[LitF] 30. Lost in the Future (Patreon)

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[A/N: Yes, this chapter's title is the novel's title.]

Music. That was the trigger to push Arthur's elemental comprehension an extra step.

The truck had an LP player, which worked similarly to the restaurant's jukebox. A tiny steel needle turned scratches on a vinyl disc into vibrations. The vibration was turned into electricity that traveled through wires and made the speakers work. Speakers. A wonder of metal, coated paper, and magnets. Magnets, which could do much more than he had expected.

Arthur had felt them working in the restaurant, but focusing on them now let him notice the antenna in the truck picking up electromagnetic signals for the first time. Wireless ones. Metal wasn't directly involved with electromagnetism, but the receiver was metallic, and thus it was within his power to feel and magically affect.

"Do you like rock'n'roll?" Jorge yelled over the song to be heard. He didn't need to, of course. Arthur could control his hearing perfectly, and separating sounds was well within his capabilities.

"Yes!" Sophie replied before anyone could.

Jorge chuckled. "You got a keeper in that lady, kid! My wife also..."

Arthur let a small part of his brain pay attention to Jorge while still being astonished by what he was feeling and understanding. He guessed he could decode the electromagnetic waves if he had a frame of reference, but Jorge wasn't making any moves to touch his radio, and Arthur didn't know if it would be rude to comment on it.

Unfortunately, all transmissions disappeared less than a minute later due to mana. As low as the ambient mana levels were, the energy significantly interfered with wireless signals. They had momentarily been within range of whatever transmitter had sent the earlier signals but were now past it.

Arthur looked around, but the road—which had narrowed into two lanes—was surrounded by a thick forest. There was nothing special in sight to his physical eyes, Mana Sight, or domains. Well, nothing besides the liquid mercury "wire" running underground, tightly bound inside a plastic and metal thin tube.

The prince could feel the electric signals moving through the quicksilver and how mana had trouble affecting them. Mercury was the best mana-resisting metal, only losing to an alloy, voidsteel. Working with liquid metal sounded like a hassle, but quicksilver lost the anti-mana properties when solid. That wire was connected to the telephones in the restaurant, inn, and machine shop.

From there, he had wondered how those electromagnetic fields could affect life and death. He could immediately tell that a plethora of diseases could be affected or created by said waves. He extrapolated many possibilities, from what he conned microwaves to strong radiation, but he would need to experiment to be sure.

Yet, just what he could feel and guess with great certainty was enough to push his life understanding about half a percentage and his death understanding a percentage and a half—which ended up pushing it two percent up because he had been close to improving already.

Electromagnetism could be a very lethal tool indeed.

| Metal: +1% → 51%

| +100 free stat points → 100 total

| Death: +2% → 27%

| +200 free stat points → 300 total

He added the 300 points to wisdom, pushing it to 9,450.

Only six percent to go to reach max wisdom.

* - * - *

As the truck moved, traffic worsened until it stopped altogether. Jorge cursed and kept talking. The vehicles moved for a few minutes now and then, then stopped again to wait for the cars coming from the other side.

Only half an hour later did they get to the front of the line and saw the reason for the jam, which other truck drivers had let Jorge know by blinking their lights in a specific pattern: a dungeon had been found.

Jorge's mood had soured since he explained what the blinking lights meant. He turned off the LP player and didn't speak until they saw the orange-clad road worker holding an orange flag beside a cordoned area. The League's symbol was drawn on the flag and the worker's uniform, both worn down.

Arthur frowned as he looked at the area. A few cones stood in the middle of the road and prevented traffic in half the road. A mere rope was placed on them to prevent anyone from trespassing on what was supposedly a dungeon area. That did not look safe, especially with only an unawakened around.

He guessed the awakeners would be closer to the dungeon itself, protecting it from unauthorized entry. Dungeons were nation-level strategic resources, after all.

"There is the League," Jorge complained. "What do you think, kid? Are they lying like the Herald Times says?"

"Lying?" Arthur asked.

"Ah, you're not from these parts. You know the Herald Times?" Arthur shook his head. "The best investigative newspaper in the capital, their other issues notwithstanding. These past months they have been pushing this story about the League lying to us all along and how it makes us less safe. Take this stop. What's the point in messing with traffic? Say a monster comes out of the dungeon. It's safer to run over it instead of staying still, right?"

Arthur felt every part of that truck and knew for a fact that it wouldn't survive a hit against a level 30 monster. Maybe not even a level 20. The monster might get injured or even die, but the driver wouldn't fare better. The accident would sow chaos, other vehicles might crash, and whoever was coming would get blocked and die anyway.

Instead, if the unawakened tried to run on foot and left the strange enchanted vehicles behind, the monsters might pause just enough for some to get to safety. Lowering traffic near the dungeon wasn't much safer, but it was definitely better than the alternative.

"I suspect this vehicle wouldn't remain whole if it hit a powerful monster," the prince replied cautiously.

Jorge nodded. "That's what the League said. But the Herald Times replied with a question: when's the last time a powerful monster was sighted in a new dungeon?"

Arthur forced himself not to tense. That was crucial information for him. They were talking about dungeons, monsters, and historical data. "When?"

"Around seventy years ago. They don't tell you that in school, do they? The last overflow? Over two hundred years ago. That's if we can even believe the League's records in the first place. Isn't it convenient that strong monsters disappeared right about the time photography became widespread?"

Arthur frowned. That man couldn't be... Could he?

"Are you disrespecting the sacrifice of those who fought to protect the world?" the prince asked without hiding what he thought of that from his voice. The ride might be convenient, but some things couldn't be swallowed, culture gap or not.

Jorge looked surprised at Arthur's stern voice. "Listen, kid, I know you're a cosplayer, you like that medieval stuff, but the truth is the truth. Not that I'm saying the Herald is speaking the truth, or the League is lying. Dave's a bigot, and guess what? He loves the Herald. They are outright racists, and I don't trust a poisoned well. But they got me thinking, and I'm interested in the answer to their questions, understand? I'm just a truck driver. What do I know about all this?" He gestured to the traffic jam. "I just want to know if there's a purpose behind all this."

Arthur nodded slowly. Jorge was lying; he agreed with the Herald Times. But he wasn't entirely sure about it, and he had a point: he was just an unawakened; what did he know?

If anyone had to be taken to justice for spreading such outrageous lies, it was that newspaper. Why was it allowed to keep disseminating such absurdities? Were republics this chaotic that lying was acceptable? But even if it was, the League didn't bow to local laws. Lying about the League was a crime because the distrust might make sow chaos in a time of great need. Why weren't they doing anything about it?

The prince needed more information to understand the locals. "I see," he replied. "But I also noticed that you didn't answer my question."

As much as Jorge had a point, Arthur would not continue in that truck if he offended Arthur, many of his beliefs, and all of the awakeners in the past who gave their lives to protect the world. The prince could never accept that.

Jorge looked uncomfortably at the distance for a time, then sighed. "How about I just tell you what the Herald said, and you decide for yourself if such people deserve our respect?"

"I want to know what they said," Arthur answered, "but I'm also interested in your opinion."

The driver smiled awkwardly. "Damn, kid. I never noticed you're that fierce. This is that important to you, huh?" He sighed again. "Alright, let me start by saying I'm sorry. I can tell you're ready to protect the League just like my father-in-law protects our military, and I'll tell you what I always tell him: I didn't mean to offend no one. I just like to discuss things, you know? Hear the different sides of the story. Actually, you know what? How about this? I'll tell you what the Herald says, and you tell me what you think about it?"

The prince squinted his eyes. The man was avoiding answering. But he had said he was sorry, which would suffice for now. If Arthur couldn't convince Jorge of the errors of his way, he would leave then.

"You can start," Arthur said.

"Alright. So, awakeners." That was the first time the prince heard the local word for awakeners, but he got it from context. "According to the Herald, they were just magitech engineers who got lucky in the past. They used nanomachines and all kinds of enchanted shit to pretend to be powerful. But the magitech messes with the mind, you know? All those nanomachines, they ain't healthy for you. That's where the so-called mana sickness comes from."

The prince couldn't believe the man spoke such dumbassery with a straight face. He even had trouble determining where to start counter-arguing against such weak lies.

"Jorge, I have a very rudimentary understanding of magitech..." That was the new name for enchanting, it seemed. "...but can we agree that enchantments can be used by anyone?" He knocked on the truck's panel. "This is an enchanted machine, isn't it?"

"Oh, I see where you're going. The Herald talked about it. They have special enchantments to only let some people use their stuff. It's like those enchanted rings in the past, you know? It dissolves if it leaves the user's body, too. You can't get your hands on it."

"So the nanomachines use a one-time use enchantment?"

"Well, yes and no. We can't take it out to reuse it, but they can. They got lucky in their magitech, remember? It's very advanced."

"How convenient that the core of their breaking news, that they can't get their hands on it, already makes it impossible to prove," Arthur said sarcastically.

Jorge chuckled. "You're just being salty."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Alright, let me ask this: how many awakeners have come out and revealed the truth since ancient times or since the newspaper started this story?"

Jorge got excited. "Three!"

"And they showed their awakener powers to the public and specialists in a controlled environment?"

"Of course, not. They are ex-awakeners. They got betrayed, had their nanomachines removed, and came to tell the truth for everyone!"

"If nanomachines can be removed, why is mana sickness an issue?"

"They got theirs out before they got sick. It's after they get sick that the nanomachines can't be taken away."

"Why not just periodically remove the nanomachines before anyone gets sick? They will die anyway, and dead people aren't usable resources, just like someone with no nanomachines."

"They gotta keep a narrative, you know? About the mana sickness. So they let some of them die."

"And they keep that narrative alive because...?"

"To keep us afraid! Our magitech is getting closer to theirs. They want to regulate it and prevent others from getting nanomachines in low-mana regions. They control all the high-mana areas, don't they?"

Those words were music to Arthur's ears. The way Jorge put it sounded like low-mana regions were big, but there were high-mana areas out there. And they were occupied by awakeners.

It soothed his heart a little. The lack of awakeners since he came out of the dungeon felt... unnatural. Now, at least he knew why: they kept to places where they wouldn't grow mana-starved.

It also suggested his low-mana region was permanent and that there was a hierarchy between different sectors of the world based on their mana density—a hierarchy that the unawakened in the Herald Times resented. That required extra investigation. Or asking the League when he got to their branch, he guessed.

For the last hour or so, Jorge had been mentioning Arthur's being a foreigner more and more when the prince showed his ignorance. What if he figured out the truth and ran away or shouted out the truth to passersby? Arthur couldn't have that. He had to get to the League on his own, and attracting attention could hinder that plan. He didn't want to take the man hostage until they arrived at the League's branch but would do it if he needed.

Arthur didn't want to show his ignorance, so he changed his approach, "You mentioned ex-awakeners. Do they have verifiable proof of them using awakener power?"

"Yes, all three do! They have pictures and audio recordings!"

"And that proof was verified by neutral third parties?"

"I... don't know?"

"So, no. If it were, they would tell the public, and you would know. Last question: how can awakeners appear in all nations worldwide, all claiming they awakened the same way, yet the truth never came out for thousands of years? If these three ex-awakeners were willing to speak now, others should have, too."

"That's easy. No one dared to speak against the League until the Herald did."

"In other words, this is what you're telling me: some hidden magitech was highly disseminated in the past. We know that because there were awakeners all over the world. It was held by different organizations. We know that because awakeners fought each other. Those organizations were from different nations that also went to war against each other. Said magitech is so advanced that even now, as we ride a marvel of enchantments, you can't get your hands on it or reproduce it. Everyone who found out about it was silenced in the past. But somehow, a newspaper found three people willing to speak the truth after thousands of years of secrecy, and the evil League just let them?"

"Well... Yeah."

"Why did the League let them?" Jorge had no answer to that question. Arthur continued, "I want to point out that everything that would prove such notions can't be verified. They only need to find one nanomachine and have it studied. I'm absolutely sure many awakeners would be willing to have their bodies analyzed under trusted surveillance to let anyone try to find said nanomachines." Arthur would be willing to. "Why don't the Herald Times do that?"

"Well, the awakeners are all into it, aren't they? They say they'll get analyzed, but it's always with some organization on their side behind their backs. If they're so strong, why do they fear getting alone with the Herald's investigative team?"

Arthur couldn't believe those words. Was Jorge that dense? "Are you really asking me why they would fear getting alone with people who are calling them liars?"

The driver got on the defensive. "Nothing wrong with it if they aren't lying."

"Would you give yourself to Dave, let him study you without anyone you trust watching over it, and then let him claim whatever he wants about you?" Again, Jorge didn't answer. "Listen, Jorge. I'm telling you that they cannot produce any evidence that can be verified by a neutral third party. That all their arguments are theoretical. Do you know what isn't theoretical? Awakener power. You can't kill monsters with a theory. Awakeners are real and needed to protect us from monsters."

Jorge had one last thing to say to that. "What killing monsters?" He gestured with his head to the very non-awakener League worker. "Does that guy looks like an awakener? Like he's killing anyone?"

Arthur frowned. "But awakeners are dealing with the dungeon, right? Or coming to deal with it?"

The driver looked at the prince as if he was an idiot. "Why would they? The dungeon will just go away on its own."

"What?"

"Kid, where are you from?" His eyes widened in enlightenment. "Ah! That's why you believe the League! You're from a country where they still tell you awakeners close dungeons, aren't you? South Karnar? Shavon? Well, here's the truth for you: dungeons go away on their own. We just gotta wait it out."

Arthur's mind, with 9,450 points of wisdom, froze for a moment. He couldn't assimilate what that man saying. It made no sense at all.

"What?" the prince repeated.

Jorge chuckled. He sounded his truck's horn to have the car in front of him give him space, then pulled over. Trees surrounded the road, but he found just enough space between a few to park his truck.

"Let's go," he said while turning his vehicle off. "I'll show it to you."

He stepped off, and Arthur looked at his people before they followed.

Jorge approached the League worker with the flag. "Hey, pal. Tough place to work, huh? They didn't even get you any repellents."

The worker was barely in his twenties and skinny, with short brown hair and brown eyes. The orange uniform was too big for him, and he was sweating heavily. He was also full of red spots on his face where insects had bitten him. His clothes didn't protect his head.

He spat on the ground. "Ma told me to get a job at Pizza King, but Luke told me I was too good for that. Well, I'm here, and guess where Luke is? The fucker got a job at Pizza King instead. He's got an air conditioner." He slapped his neck when a stilt landed on him. "I got this shit."

Jorge chuckled. "Let me guess, your sweetheart works there?"

The guy paled in realization. "Fuck Luke."

Jorge laughed harder. "Listen, pal." He gestured to Arthur and the others with his thumb. "This bunch of cosplayers never saw a dungeon closing before. I'll take them to have a look, and a couple of fifty bills will fall from my pocket. You'll be distracted picking it up and won't see us go past you. What you say?"

The guy's eyes shone with happiness. "A hundred bucks? Really?" Jorge gave him a pointed look, and the boy's eyes widened. "I mean, what? I can't hear anything. I'm all alone here."

Jorge chuckled again and moved on. As he had said, he took his wallet from his pocket and let two fifty bills fall on the ground. Then, he turned to Arthur and asked, "What are you waiting for? Let's go." He smiled. "Don't worry about the money; you got it for me by making Dave shut up, didn't you?"

The prince had never witnessed corruption before. Yet, here it was, happening in broad daylight. He looked at the traffic jam, but although a few people were looking that way, none seemed too interested, only bored.

He looked from the worker to Jorge. Arthur was an awakener. He was part of the League by default. He had just seen bribery occur in front of him and was legally required to subdue both people and take them to the League to pay for their crimes.

"Master," Tamara said cautiously, "I suggest we look first and make decisions later. We'll have no trouble tracking either of them if we want to."

The prince thought for a moment, then nodded. Indeed, he could capture the corrupt people later. He walked on.

Jorge walked more or less at random. A few minutes later, Arthur felt and saw the dungeon before they could see it through the trees. It was a wooden portal on a particularly thick tree. He could only see the access corridor inside, nothing else.

Weirdly enough, there was slightly more mana in the dungeon's surroundings than he had felt since leaving his last dungeon. In the dungeon itself, the mana levels were much higher. Arthur wouldn't be mana-starved inside.

That made no sense. Dungeons were parasites. They sucked mana from the world. Why would there be more mana inside that dungeon than outside?

He understood it when it came to the level 95 dungeon he had left. It had been around for a while, absorbing the planet's mana. However, this was supposedly a recent dungeon. It shouldn't have had enough time to accumulate as much energy as he saw in the corridor.

A bored orange-uniformed worker sat on a folding chair a few yards away from the entrance, reading a newspaper. He was not worried about monsters. That, too, made no sense. Even if that dungeon might not be close to overflowing, no unawakened should feel that safe that close to it.

Jorge stopped when he saw the wooden frame. The worker saw them at the same time. He looked at their directions, shook his head, and returned to reading.

"Someone found the dungeon and told the League," Jorge said. "They got here and closed the area, so the dungeon should've been here for many hours already. Dungeons usually go away within six hours, and we got stuck in traffic for two. I bet the dungeon will close in an hour or so. Two, tops."

"It will just... disappear?" Arthur asked disbelievingly.

Jorge chucked. "Yeah. Keep watching."

Arthur would not keep watching. He would get in there and see what was going on. Or so he planned.

The moment he stepped ahead, prepared to put Jorge and the worker to sleep, the corridor disappeared, and the wooden door frame just crumbled into dust.

Only the tree remained as if there had never been a dungeon entrance on it.

Jorge's eyes widened. "Wow! We got lucky, kid! That was a fast one! See? No awakener. Dungeons go away on their own. We need no League, do we?"

The prince had no answer to that. He knew he was looking at something impossible. Yet, hadn't he told Jorge to believe the evidence?

When someone destroyed a dungeon core, Fate itself safely pulled awakeners out of it. However, no one appeared here and now. No awakener had destroyed that dungeon.

The sitting worker said to himself, "Finally," put his newspaper in a pocket, stood up, folded his chair, grabbed it, and started walking towards the road. Not in their direction, but likely where another worker was posted, further down the road than where Jorge had stopped.

That was it. No interest. No surprise. It was just business as usual.

Arthur could only reach one conclusion: this wasn't the League of Fated Races he knew. Something was very wrong with everyone and everything in the world.

Suddenly, the prophecy about a great calamity felt much more foreboding. If these people didn't care about monsters and dungeons, they would be crushed by any random dungeon overflow. If the closest awakener was too far from here, how many people would die before they arrived?

And no one seemed to care about it?! No, in fact, the unawakened appeared to want the League to cease existing?!

Jorge turned his back to the crumbled dungeon. "Let's go, kid. The traffic will clear soon enough. I miss my family."

Mr. Mustache chose that moment to make a fuss. He had woken up and wanted to get off Sophie's arms. She let him, and he disappeared into the forest.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you just going to let him go?"

She shrugged, feeling sad but not too much. "Cats choose their owners. He didn't choose me, did he?"

"Cats are territorial," Tamara interjected. "Force it to stay with you in a house, and it'll become part of their territory. It'll live with you if you treat it well. It's pure instinct. You shouldn't judge an irrational animal's actions as if it were human."

Sophie didn't reply.

Arthur took a last glance at the destroyed dungeon and followed Jorge. There was no need to rush for answers now. The prince was sure he could figure out the truth after arriving in the city.

As for riding with the man... He guessed Jorge had a point. If dungeons disappeared on their own, there was a good chance that either things nowadays were different from the past—the actual truth—or that the League had lied to everyone. The prince couldn't blame the man for picking the most exciting alternative, could he?

He also couldn't just imprison the corrupt unawakened. Not now. He had to get to the League first and see what exactly the organization created to protect the world had become.

The world had become bizarre, and he shouldn't be making any important decisions before he understood it better. Not even if ignoring the bribery made him very uncomfortable.

As the achievement title had said, he was indeed lost in the future.

They were almost back to the truck when Mr. Mustache returned holding a dead rodent in its mouth. He placed it by Sophie's feet, purred, and scrubbed himself on her legs.

The girl laughed happily and picked the cat up. "He went out to feed me!" she said in triumph. "He's caring for me! He thinks I can't hunt and went hunting for me!"

Arthur could feel Mr. Mustache had also emptied his bladder. "Well? Are you going to just throw his caring gift away?" He gestured to the dead rodent. "Go ahead. Have a taste."

Sophie rolled her eyes and ignored the prince, who chuckled.

They got back in the truck with no issues. Soon enough, another worker came from the other end of the road. The one who had been sitting by the dungeon rode a small pickup truck beside him, who picked up the cones and placed them on the truck.

"So, kid?" Jorge asked provocatively when they were back in the vehicle. "What do you think about the League now?"

"This League is nothing like I heard," Arthur admitted sincerely. "But the Herald Times' story still seems far-fetched to me."

The driver chuckled as he turned the engine on. "Suit yourself. I bet you'll change your mind when I show you the news. They have this theory on how the nanomachines work... I can't explain it, it's complicated, but it makes too much sense. You'll see."

The prince feared that the nanomachines might make so much sense that someone might actually build them and rewrite history.

Yet, what worried him the most was: why wasn't the League doing anything about it?

He kept silent for a while as Jorge kept talking. Seeing the dungeon get destroyed for no apparent reason had been too unsettling.

* - * - *

"...she being a half-monster and all. But I swear, what does my great-great-great-great-great grandfather have to do with my girl protecting a friend at school? They're fucking racists, is what I tell you. Fuck this state."

Jorge had somehow started talking about his "little girl's" school days. She was currently eighteen years old. Jorge himself was fifty-eight. Arthur guessed she was little in comparison.

The prince hadn't heard the word "half-monster" before but, once more, guessed the meaning by context. And it opened a great venue of approach for him.

"Half-monster?" he asked.

The driver looked sideways at Arthur. He had tensed when he entered the subject of his daughter being forced to visit a psychiatrist after hitting a colleague at middle school. He had known it would be a touchy subject.

"You heard Dave, didn't you?" Jorge asked.

"I heard him call you 'kindred,'" Arthur replied. Jorge tensed even more. "But it doesn't mean half-monster in League dialect."

"Of course not. It's a slur. Who the fucks know how it started? It's what bigots call us nowadays. As if we're some sort of separate race because one of our ancestors fucked a monster hundreds of years ago. Pardon my language, girls."

He was still closely watching Arthur's reactions. This was a very touchy subject for him.

"Then I'll be careful never to use that word," the prince replied. "Thank you for teaching me."

Jorge relaxed a little. "They were right, ya know? Cosplayers really are more open-minded. I guessed by your girlfriend's red lens. Sorry I ever thought bad of you guys. "

It was Arthur's turn to get tense. "You noticed her eyes?" he asked. "It is such a small detail."

"A girl like yours makes heads turn, kid. With all due respect, of course. I got my Vivian already and wouldn't want anyone else in this world."

Arthur believed the man. He had talked a lot about his wife.

The prince looked back at Sophie. He had more or less gotten used to it, but she was gorgeous, wasn't she? Indeed, he had seen no one get even close to her beauty ever since he left the dungeon.

Fate, he was a lucky guy.

She raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, and he just winked at her.

The prince would never demand her to hide her features. If half-monsters were prejudiced against in this world, and it caused issues for Sophie, he would burn the world down. It was one thing for them to come after him for his father's mistakes. He could even ignore corruption to a point. But no one would be allowed to hurt Sophie.

No one.

The truck trembled a little as he got angry, and his metal domain reacted to it. He quickly stopped it and widened his eyes in wonder. That was a first.

Was... Was this how he was supposed to start a calamity?

Arthur suddenly felt terrified of his power and his willingness to fall for Sophie. Then again, would it be falling if he protected her from racism? His heart calmed.

He didn't mind starting a calamity if the world deserved it.

"Master, are you alright?" Tamara asked.

She could easily guess he had been responsible for the truck trembling. The road was even, the wind was light, and they weren't moving too fast; the blockade was gone, but there was still a traffic jam. Only a metalmancer could've made the vehicle shake, and if it had been an enemy attack, Arthur would've reacted.

"I am," he replied. "I was testing a magic idea."

"What language are you even speaking?" Jorge asked.

The prince answered the truth, hoping he could learn something from the subject, "Carnan."

"The name rings a bell. Which country speaks it?"

"It's the old human tongue spoken in the Central Plains around twelve hundred years ago. More specifically, I'm using the Hucatoi idiom with the Golden Kingdom accent. The Golden Kingdom was the widespread alias of the Kingdom of Scaria."

Arthur felt the man's brain work. He was tempted to make him sort through his memories more easily but decided it would be unethical.

So, he waited and waited, until Jorge found what he was looking for.

"I barely recall hearing about the Golden Kingdom in my school days. Isn't it that country that got screwed in the Orichalcum War? Everyone betrayed them. Poor bastards. Then again, if they were going to find the largest deposit of orichalcum ever, they should've named themselves something less obvious than the Golden Kingdom, right?"

The prince felt Tamara and Graham tense up. They had understood the words Scaria and orichalcum. He turned to them and saw what people nowadays would describe as deers caught in headlights.

"Yes, that's them," Arthur said, not taking his eyes off his people. "What was that country's current name again? Something with Shia? Or was it On-something?"

"Nah, kid. It's Avaria. Heh. Funny how you would defend the League earlier. They're the ones who got the best deal out of the war, aren't they? After the king betrayed his country and everything."

Arthur's heart started beating furiously.

The largest deposit of orichalcum ever found. A prophecy the day Arthur was born. His father's anger when he picked an element in his awakening—metal. Old allies betraying the kingdom. Grand Knights betraying their king. His father's focus at training and protecting the crown prince.

Arthur didn't know the details or how everything was connected, but one thing became crystal clear at that moment: somehow, his existence was more closely related to the war that saw the end of the Golden Kingdom than he had ever thought.

And Graham and Tamara knew about it.

"The League did get the best out of it, didn't they?" the prince said, taking his eyes off his people. He would talk to them later. Now wasn't the place or time for that conversation.

"The way I see it, that's downplaying it. More orichalcum than they know what to do with, and the region with the third-highest mana concentration in the world. They even have that Institute to pretend they're trying to help us all with research and stuff. Who cares if the world's mana levels are lowering? I mean, even if it's true—and I don't trust the League no more—only the damn League would care. Can't pretend to be all-powerful if their nanomachines make them crazy, can they? We common people can do just fine with magitech."

Another thing became clear to Arthur: the League was dying. Maybe partly for the same reason the Golden Kingdom was gone: too many riches and insufficient power to protect itself. The sharks smelled blood and were starting to bite.

The prince wondered if the unawakened would rise against what remained of the League or if another group of awakeners would step up to "save the day" first. Whatever the case, while he might've missed the first Orichalcum War, it was evident that he had returned right on time to fight the second one.

The only remaining questions on that front were if he cared enough to join it and, if so, which side he would support.

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