While Arya basked in his self-congratulation over his "undeniable greatness," Mara was already far too absorbed in her own little world to even hear his bullshit. Interestingly, this thing seemed very interactive. Every piece of information about her was written in detail with no room for confusion, as if it could read her thoughts.
Touch of Reality Lv1
Even my skill has a level? So this really is like a game system... I can grow stronger as I progress.
Her lips curved into a small smile as she read further.
Touch of Reality - Make and build anything you want with available materials. The only thing that's holding you down is not your imagination, but your experience. Go join raids, kill monsters, and do side quests!
It seemed like leveling up was a demand from the system. And of course, Mara would like to do that. She was eager to test her skills and see what she was capable of.
"Brother, are we close to the gate yet?" she asked at last, glancing up from her parchment. Arya had gone strangely quiet after his loud boasting earlier, his attention fixed on the path ahead.
"Mm," Arya replied with a curt nod. "But we'll head to the city first."
Her face lit up. "Ah! Are you going to buy me proper hunter's attire for the raid?"
"Hm...?" Arya hummed noncommittally, his expression unreadable.
.
.
.
No. To Mara's dismay, they weren't headed to the gate at all.
"W-what do you mean I can't go to the raid?!" she cried.
A man in his twenties stepped forward, attempting to calm her down. But Mara slapped his hand away with a sharp glare. "I want to go too! I—I'm a hunter!" she insisted, her voice rising in pitch.
"It's too dangerous, Princess—"
Mara glared at him again. Of all the insults her brother could've dealt her, this was the worst. Arya had refused to let her join the raid, and instead, he left her under the watch of a man. At an inn.
A man.
At an INN.
Oh, she doesn't give a damn if this damn inn costs him like 10 gold, or everything in this hotel is made out of gold, high-quality woods, and mattresses.
Mara couldn't let it slide. She grabbed the man's sleeve so hard his shoulder jerked. "You either take me to the gate or I'll go myself."
The man, whose name she hadn't even bothered to learn, paled. "Princess, you don't understand! Arya would have my head! It's not a picnic out there, it's a slaughterhouse!"
"And does he think I'm some porcelain doll who'll shatter at the first sign of danger?" Mara scoffed, her carefully crafted facade of politeness crumbling. "I'm a Prodigy now! I have a right to test my abilities!"
A sudden, chilling calm descended upon her, a predatory stillness that made the man's breath hitch in his throat. An idea, audacious and reckless, sparked in her mind. Her gaze locked onto his, a subtle, almost manic smile curving her lips.
"Fine..." Mara purred, her voice deceptively calm. "If you're all so insistent on treating me like a child..."
The knight swallowed, suddenly very aware of her stare.
The next thing he knew, the poor man was pinned to the floor, wrists and ankles bound behind him so tight he couldn't wiggle. He lay there, helpless and bleary-eyed.
"Princess! Please, this is madness!" The muffled plea was punctuated by the frantic shuffling of limbs against the wooden floor. His eyes, wide with a mixture of fear and mortification, followed Mara's every move.
Ignoring his pathetic whimpers, Mara descended the creaking stairs, the leather pouch containing Arya's "emergency funds" swinging jauntily at her side.
She descended the stairs and, reaching the stables, she found the air thick with the scent of hay and horse sweat.
"I need a mount,"
The stable keeper, a man with a suspicious squint, eyed her with open skepticism. "Hold there, young lady! These steeds are the property of paying customers! They're not for hire!"
"I need it," Mara retorted, tossing the pouch of gold at his feet. The coins scattered like glittering jewels across the dirt floor. Ignoring the keeper's sputtering protests, she threw open the nearest stall and expertly saddled a sturdy-looking mare.
With a leap, she was in the saddle, her heart pounding in her chest. The horse, startled by her impetuousness, snorted and pawed the ground. Mara gripped the reins tightly in panic.
"Farewell!" she called over her shoulder, and with a flick of the reins, she urged the horse forward, galloping out of the stable and into the crowded city streets.
"Hey! Come back! That ain't yours!" The stablehand's cries were swallowed by the city's bustling noise as Mara navigated the streets.
Mara, completely unprepared for the sudden burst of speed, nearly lost her grip. She clung to the horse's rein, her body bouncing awkwardly with each stride.
"Whoa! Easy, girl!"
She had no idea what she was doing. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest as she fought to maintain her balance. This was nothing like the graceful rides she had envisioned in novels or historical dramas.
Despite her lack of skill, Mara managed to stay on, propelled forward by a potent combination of desperation and sheer dumb luck.
"Fuck..." she muttered, her triumphant mood faltering slightly. "I haven't the faintest idea where this damned gate is."
As if summoned by her desperation, the familiar golden parchment materialized before her, its ethereal glow illuminating the path ahead.
The nearest gate is 2000m away.
Mara grinned, tightening her grip on the reins. "Perfect. This must be it"
-
The village at the edge of the city should have been peaceful that morning, its stone church and scattered homes resting beneath the shadow of the mountains.
In the village square, a jagged crack had split open above the ground, glowing faintly with an unnatural light. Raising panic and uproar through the crowds.
Royal soldiers moved swiftly, forming lines to guide the people away. They shouted calm but firm orders.
Arya stood a short distance away with his party, silent and imposing, his gaze fixed on the growing fissure. The other members of his elite team busied themselves with final preparations. Checking their gears, sharing potions, and mages whispering buff spells under their breath for the other hunters.
Then, the thunder of hooves split the noise, shattering the tense silence. A horse, ridden with reckless abandon, charged into the square, scattering people in its path before skidding to a halt directly in front of Arya.
Mara, her face set in a furious scowl, practically leapt from the horse's back, landing with an ungainly thud. Dust swirled around her, clinging to her borrowed clothes and tousled hair.
"Brother!" she bellowed, her voice carrying across the square.
Arya was visibly shocked. He watched, dumbfounded, as Mara stormed towards him, her eyes blazing with righteous indignation.
"You tricked me! How dare you!" she accused, her voice trembling with anger.
Arya blinked, momentarily stunned by her sudden appearance. "What?!" He snapped back, his own temper flaring. "You can't be here, Mara! It's far too dangerous!"
"You left me behind with a man! Now you'll pay the consequence!"
Arya's brows furrowed. "What consequence?! Don't be ridiculous—this isn't a place for you!"
"I'm a prodigy too!" she shouted, her voice ringing across the square.
"Listen to your brother!" Arya's voice thundered, sharper now, though fear flickered behind his eyes. "This is for your own sake!"
The argument froze the air. Soldiers and villagers alike backed away nervously, watching the siblings quarrel in the middle of the chaos. None dared interfere—until a tall woman in a blue cloak stepped forward. She positioned herself beside Arya, her muscles straining her clothes, and stared at Mara with a stern gaze.
"Princess, an unregistered prodigy is prohibited from entering the gate," she stated, her voice cold and unwavering.
Mara stopped, her anger momentarily deflated by the woman's words. Of course, she knew that. Well, at least she had expected something like that. Still, she could always abuse her power as the Princess, pull rank, and demand to be allowed to pass. But then, Arya reached out and held her back, his grip on her shoulder firm yet gentle.
"There, you hear her, right? Not only is it dangerous for you, but it's also illegal to enter without registering. Come on, Mara, you're old enough to understand this isn't a playground," he said in a low tone, his voice gentle yet firm, as if wanting his words to penetrate her stubbornness.
His words pressed against her anger, forcing it to falter just slightly. She clenched her fists, trembling, her lips pressed thin.
A massive shadow loomed over them. A burly knight in full armor stepped forward, his helmet under one arm, his voice deep and respectful. "Sir Arya," he said, bowing his head, "the gate is about to break."
Arya's expression hardened. He nodded once, then pulled Mara closer, gently but firmly shielding her with his body. His arm locked around her shoulder as the fissure blazed brighter and brighter.
In a matter of seconds, the gate finally exploded with a deafening boom, the force of the blast sending shockwaves rippling through the air. A blinding flash of light erupted from the fissure, followed by a shockwave that sent debris flying in all directions.
Arya wrapped his arms protectively around Mara, shielding her from the worst of the blast. He held her close, his body a bulwark against the raw power unleashed by the gate.
Mara gaped in both awe and fear, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer spectacle of the explosion. Her body shivered, a strange mixture of terror and excitement coursing through her veins.
The parchment suddenly appeared before her eyes, its golden surface glowing.
[Enter the Gate, Mara.]
The words seemed to resonate within her mind, bypassing her conscious thought. It was as if the parchment was trying to lure her inside, to pull her into the swirling chaos of the gate. And, to her horror, it was working. Her eyes glazed over, her pupils dilating as she stared, transfixed, at the vortex.