The morning sun relentlessly scorched Isaac's skin. His legs ached, yet he pushed forward.
4 hours and 17 minutes… Phew… Who's gonna carry the boats… And the logs…
Yet it was the Thalionic Spiral that commanded the sky.
The blackened iron peak is a monstrous conductor of electricity. It drank the sunlight, the dark metallic surface radiating decades worth of energy that churned the air above into a swirling vortex of low pressure in which a constant storm formed around it.
Whether Isaac should be thankful for the shade or be terrified of the storms would be dependant on his caution to not lay a single cell within striking radius. Like iron filings drawn to a magnet, the clouds clung to the Spiral's crown. Lighting. Lightning and lightning. Constantly reverberating in the distance.
Still… That fact could never sway Isaac from experimenting.
Oh my days~ I don't give a shit about running T-T…
As a physicist.
Well… was an upcoming physicist.
How could such a man as him resist what would be considered a wonder of the world back on Earth?
I just wanna go into that fuckass spiral to experiment man…
That fucking spiral could act as a gigantic neutrino radiator.
I could make kilometre-wide Casimir cavities to probe vacuum fluctuations.
The options. All the options…
NO! LOCK IN!
I gotta run to the Institute before I get fucked in the ass again by ḧ̶̝̫̩̰̲̮̭̒̒̆̇̊́̇̄́́̑̑͝i̵̢̡̧͍̳̰͔̺̟̮̳̯̙̜̊̈́̊͂́̕m̸̡̧̼͓̹̅̑̅̉͒͐̀̿̈́͛͆͘͝.
For now, the ideas and numbers rang in Isaac's skull like a merciless countdown.
Just four damn hours. Four hours till safety.
Let's go!
Stamina: 9% |
"Wind Walker."
Isaac's Clause-Construct snaps into place again.
How long?
Right. Thirty minutes of this shit. Then back to joggi一
He zoomed out of 'render distance'.
.
.
.
ETA: 3 hours and 47 minutes.
Isaac struck the dirt shoulder-first, rolling to disperse the force before his knees fractured. The impact rattled his teeth, worse than most punches he received in the past. Yet he rose again before the pain could take root.
One foot.
Then the other.
The rhythm of his machine running on fumes, driven forward by nothing but his will.
Stamina: 43% |
Good enough, Cardio time.
I guess you could say… I'm crossing fields.
He began whistling peculiar tunes as he began jogging once more.
It drew the attention of ḩ̴̨̢̨̰͙͎̖̪̠̦̤͔̖̦͚̼̯͕̞̫̞͈̜̩̝͓̜̪̖̭̭̪̮̗̘̣̊̾́͗̇̉͗̀̈́͗̆̆̽͒̽̋̎͆̇́̂͗̉͛̈͂͒̅̚͘͜͜͠į̵̡̧̨̻̙͙̺̱̖͈͚̪̩̞͕̦̯̟̣͈̟̙̫̗̰̩̩̱͖̯̯̤͙͕̮̰̖̲̟͓̯̘̝͙̉̆͋̈̑̈̃̓̑̾̔̑̉̓͒͐͂̒̏͌́̏̓̉̉̀̆͘̕͝͠͝m̸̢̢̧̛̱̮͖̟͈̠͈͉̪̟͙̖̪̫̺͍̰̗͙̭͕͚̱̙͓̲͆̑̒̈́͑͊̈́͂̄̈́̑́̉̀̌͊͊̔̚͘͜͜ͅͅ…
.
.
.
.
.
Hah… Hah… One more cycle.
The end of this rotation between jogging and Noësis brought Isaac beyond the Thalionic Spiral and the wastelands that clung to its shadow. Now he moved through the grassy plains that stretched outward from the capital.
Finally…
The road appeared, the path of merchants and travellers winding in and out of the capital's gates, a certain sign that his ordeal neared its end.
Hell yeah.
One more round. No more. No less!
One final push, until my mana runs out, and after that, just my raw stubbornness.
…
Ah shit… My lungs are burning…
Each cough Isaac sounded tore his throat. Raw and dry. Water would have been a luxury. Yet when he lifted his gaze in search of the sun, it was no longer the sky that held his attention.
I'm here…
The gates towered before him. To call this fortress that hosted the Institute anything but magnificent would be insufficient, insulting almost.
This is The Capital of Elenos, huh?
Once, I only saw this in pixels and lore text.
Here, it stood as reality.
But, Shiii. It's cool. Instagram worthy.
Isaac reached for his pocket to snap a picture. He patted his pants and remembered.
Wait a minute… How am I gonna survive my daily life without social medi一
Oh…
…
I wonder how she's doing back home. All the savings in my account should be transferred to her by now, I hope.
Maybe she threw me a nice funeral? I hope all my friends attended it…
Tsk… There goes my mood. Fuck… Some good books would fix this.
Reality steals his breath.
Although the game primarily had the setting in the Institute. This capital was not just a school of Noësis. It is the sovereign city of Thaumitonic Study; its walls were the cutting edge of Science x Noësis.
150 square kilometres. Total citizen count. About 2,075,600?
God knows it's been so long since I saw the digits.
I mean, it is the beating heart of the Elenos Kingdom, funded by the royal family's bottomless coffers. They too should reside in the capital.
In a mansion?
Nah. A house the size of a castle is more like it.
Was it made of marble at the edge of the city?
Eh… I ain't gonna fuck with them… For now.
They're monarchs amongst kings, so entrenched in power that the other lower nobles hesitate before their influence.
A damn dynasty of kings wearing scholar's robes.
I know the Principal was powerful. Hell. 'Powerful' is a child's word for what he is. A Mage who rewrites history between sips of tea. All that pretentious, generic old man grandmaster shit.
Yet even he knocked and knelt at their mansion.
When the Monarch of House Elenos speaks, damn near every continent holds its breath.
They'll eventually show what they're capable of, so I don't need to keep hyping them.
And I…
Isaac halts his jogging to reach for the towering walls.
His narrative sanctuary.
He stands there, a nameless speck of dust clinging to their gates.
Hoping to be let in.
That means two things:
Behind thes… Wait, why the fuck would this capital need a generic isekai wal—
Okay focus… Behind these walls, I might survive. So long as ḧ̵̨̡̛̭̺̪͓̠̝̼̺͍̹̲͕̮̳́̃͂̕͘͠ę̶͕͖̺͉̪̳̦͈̥̤̠͇͕̲̔̍ͅ doesn't warp reality and fuck me up.
Second options? If I don't get in, I'm COOKED, WALLAHI!
No middle ground. Do or die.
Isaac forced his aching legs forward.
The guards snap to attention, swords tilting down as a threat.
The force of the unsheathing blows wind past his face, a hair follicle had just been cut.
Bloody hell…These sons of a bitches…
Their battle-hardened gaze acts as watchmen and overseers of this fortress. They are no ordinary sentinels, no tin suits from some backwater kingdom's army.
The Magesterials of the Ivory Seal.
All moved like living swords, their uniforms a display of opulence.
White as the moon. Gold is like a shining star. Blue as deep as the night sky.
Hmmm… Damn generic… I bet one of these guys would be named Kevin. K.
The clothes hummed with 'enchantments' of the highest order of fabric technology. What Isaac might mistake for royal finery is battlefield Alchemy, silk that resists and returns.
But the true threat lies beneath the fabric.
Each Magesterial is a Mana Swordsman, their very existence a damn mockery of mortal limits. They're damn physical monsters who cut their problems as easily as flesh.
The kingdom's razor edge, deployed only when bloodshed requires artistry.
Or… As the fucking guards of the Capital.
Now blocking Isaac in his path, they stand utterly still.
It terrifies Isaac.
Real fighters I've fought fidget. Breathe. Hell, blink.
These motherfuckers? Shit… They've probably already foreseen all the ways to cut me up.
For the heartbeat, they stand frozen in this exchange.
First, the rustle of his robes.
"Halt."
A single syllable. Flat. Scary…
"Pft…"
FUCK! It's still funny, even if this is a foreign world; the dialects remained universal. Well, that's a given since the game had an English dub.
But shit, I just laughed in this guy's face.
Their expressions furrow as the silence between order and execution begins tilting ever so slightly to the right.
"Speak."
Isaac swallowed hard. He hadn't felt adrenaline on this level even while running away from the Rotshade Canopy.
Calm down and then speak in a scared manner.
"I'm lost. I'm seeking refuge."
A half-truth wrapped in desperation. The lie tastes bitter to them, but fear makes it smooth.
"Proof." The lead guard raised his arm. "Name yourself."
Hmm… I don't have any identification or knowledge of this body's backstory.
Every second of this silence tightens the noose that will hang him.
Their fingers are curling around hilts. They're gonna kill me if I don't respond anytime soon.
Easy. I'll gamble everything on a lie,
"Sorry, I can't provide proof. The last I remember, I awoke in a village in the Southern Rotshade Canopy. I ran toward that spiral, thinking it was shelter."
A dry, humourless laugh to try to lighten the mood
"Really bad idea, I know. My apologies. I then ran till I saw a path and followed the road here."
Let another heartbeat of silence pass. Then, in a friendly tone
"I'm Isaac Wong."
Simple, I'll use my old name.
That'll prevent any mishaps where I confuse a new name and my old one.
But the guards don't move. They don't react. The air between Isaac and the Magesterials crystallises from the tension.
…
Silence. He doesn't look pissed. Perhaps I made an error trying to seem friendly to them. Or was it the use of an Earthly na一
"Where was the village?"
"About 144 kilometres in that direction."
Ah shit…
The words slipped out of Isaac's mouth in the midst of haste and thoughts.
Would this world utilise the same units of length as Earth? If not, then I'm fucked again.
I could play it off as a native slang to a foreign kingdom… Maybe?
…
The silence between them stretched heavy. Within Isaac's mind, overrides of possibilities collided, each a projection of how the Magesterials might respond. He twitched his fingers in anticipation of an all-out battle.
It's meaningless…
Almost all led to the same conclusion: his untimely demise. No matter how he traced the lines of probability, the outcome remained. To face one of these guards in combat is to die with no hope of victory.
And still, Isaac clung to hope that words triumphed over force. And mostly that his words were not too foreign, not too misplaced. Perhaps he could foresee one narrow path that explains the current silence.
Though. It would cost him a bruise upon his pride.
"And you walked here?"
Fuck you. I knew it. Look at that snicker.
"Yes"
"Time taken?"
"About 7 hours total"
No point lying now.
"144 kilometres… in 7 hours?"
"Correct"
The Magestrial's face turns curious.
And then a mocking giggle.
A hit on Isaac's pride.