An Inciting Isekai - Chapter 23 (Patreon)

Levi sat in his spot at the round table. Thankfully, he was using the guise of sleep to enter this dream world.

Isolde sat to his right, and the big giant–far taller than even Bram–sat to his left. For whatever reason, he seemed angry. He was barely holding it in. His chest violently rose up and down, like a mighty wyrm ready to break through the surface. 

What’s gotten him so angry? Levi wondered. But he knew it was best not to get in the path of a demi-god with a penchant for wrath.

Isolde offered him a nod in greeting, to which Levi–shrouded in blankets–reciprocated it in kind.

The Lord leaned forward, two intertwined hands propping up his chin. “Welcome, members of the Round Table,” The lord’s voice boomed across the table. Levi wondered just how strong he was. The fact he had given him an Arch Magus talent spoke of his potential. Was he a god?

He continued, “Our meeting begins. Please speak. Afterwards, we will begin the trading process.”

The table broke out into discussion. 

Apparently there was a big movement in one of the worlds. Perkonia was the name. An entire civilization had been wiped out by an outbreak in the Krag. To Levi, the thought of that happening was ridiculous. But it had. And it was happening everywhere. Various people, who obviously belonged to other words across the table, all mentioned how the Krag was attacking their worlds. No one knew how, or why, it was happening.

If even these people didn’t understand what was going on, what chance did Levi have of figuring it out? Whatever it meant, Levi didn’t like it. The worlds were turning dangerous. It was evident the planet he was on was on the verge of something catastrophic, as well. He just hoped that higher up people of this world were more knowledgeable, and stronger, than he was.

The giant by Levi’s side–Marro–slammed the table. The entire table quaked, but nevertheless didn’t create any sign of damage. “Darien,” he spat. If he was a dragon, fire would be ejecting from his mouth. “Get your spies out of my camp.”

“Spies?” Darien asked, completely confused.

“Do not play the fool with me,” Marro said, his bones creaking from the unbridled power under his flesh. “I know you are watching. What do you have planned?”

Darien’s confusion turned to anger as he leaned forward. “Do you take me for an idling clown that has nothing better to do than to spy on a savage? I’m delving within the God Emperor Gofrin’s tomb as we speak. Many of my men have died. This isn’t the time to be playing jokes with me, Marro.”

It was Marro’s time to be confused. “Then who is it?”

“How am I supposed to know that?” Darien grumbled.

“Marro,” a new voice spoke up. The man wore a top-hat. He sat next to Darien. He went by the alias Willow. “This isn’t the first time you have falsely accused someone of the Round Table. Next time think before opening your mouth.”

“I–” Marro said, stuttering. He nodded. “I apologise. The Krag’s unusual behaviour must be grating on my mind.” Then, he lumbered forwards. “I made a mistake, but do not warn me. A little Willow doesn’t have the strength to resist a raging storm.”

Levi practically felt the tense air tug at his shoulders.

“Darien, the Spy Master,” Isolde said, grinning, changing the subject. “It does hold an air of mystery, doesn't it? I’ve heard of worse names.”

“I’m glad you can still find amusement within any situation, Witch,” replied Darien. “A spy? It doesn’t feel very fitting.”

“How long has it been since we first arrived in this place?” Isolde asked. Levi was confused as to why they were making small talk. This was the first time. Usually each time they talked, it was to extract a piece of information from one another. Was this the same? 

“Over ten years?” Darien mused.

“Has so much time passed already?”

"Time is an enigma, Isolde," murmured Darien. "It seldom unfolds as we imagine."

“It does always seem to rule over us, doesn’t it?” 

“Usually,” Darien said with a small smile. Then, his attention turned to Levi. He felt his stomach drop, but he put on a brave face. “So, Traveller, is the Round Table as you had imagined it?”

Levi found himself calming down, instead of panicking. Was this the result of the experiences he had endured? It felt good. Wearing a facade, he said in a lower voice, “Mysterious, strange, plain. It does provide one with a sense of longing for the week to end, I suppose. Your topics are intriguing to listen to. The Krag, pointedly. Where I come from, such a place doesn’t exist. A hand covering the moon? Interesting.”

He decided to play the act of an old master. All the time watching and reading Xianxia stories spilled forth from his mind. Would they believe him? He didn’t really care if they did or not, he just needed to veil his true identity, that was all. It was also the perfect guise to obtain more information. Information that he needed.

“You aren’t from our world?” Darien asked, perking up. So did the others at the table. 

Levi shook his head. “Because of that, I am curious as to what this ‘hand’ is.”

Darien smiled. “Titan’s Grasp, we call it. It is from the Forgotten Era that spans across the worlds bridged by the Krag. I’m afraid none of us really know where ‘he’ came from. But we have ideas.”

Isolde spoke up, “‘He’, is the one who creates the bridge. ‘He’, once upon a time, was a weak, mortal man. In the Olden era, he was a hunter that was looked down on for his inability to kill. Sometime in the near future, when his tribe was trading with another village, he met a young and beautiful woman. He fell in love with her at first sight. However, he wasn’t the only one that was entranced by her ethereal beauty. He found himself in a competition to receive her love. Many men from all over the world fought to gain her hand in marriage. But ‘he’ was weaker than the other warriors. As a failed hunter, how was ‘he’ meant to fight the other, taller, stronger, older, more experienced warriors from across the lands?”

What has this got to do with anything? Levi wondered, but he nevertheless listened intently.

Isolde leaned forwards, entranced in her own story. She continued, “‘He’ was losing the battle. So, out of desperation, ‘he’ travelled further than any man dared in history to travel. ‘He’ hiked across lands of fire, traversed endless oceans, climbed the steepest mountains. And then ‘he’ found it: the Krag. Noone knows what happened within, but when ‘he’ left, ‘he’ was a different being. A god. However, time didn’t wait for him. He was gone for over 20 years. When he returned, his first, and only true love, was long married. She had four children. Some of them were as old as ‘he’ was before ‘he’ left.

‘He’ was lost. ‘He’ had fought through endless battles, endured starvation and immense thirst, experienced the worst humanity had to offer. And it was all for nothing, right? Except it wasn’t. ‘He’ held the most power anyone could ever hope to achieve. And so, ‘he’ decided to use it. ‘He’ reached up high to the blazing sun, and covered the entirety of it with his all encompassing hand, casting the world into a terrifying, deep dark, where monsters reigned supreme. ‘He’ decided to end his world as he knew it, delving the entire world into the Forgotten Era, all information, and history, was erased. The end.”

Silence hung over the table. 

Isolde chuckled. “Traveller, why do you think ‘he’ did what he did? Despite still loving the woman, why did ‘he’ decide to cast it all into oblivion?”

Levi thought about it for a while. Seconds turned to minutes, yet everyone remained silent. Finally, Levi answered. “Because although ‘he’ was a god, ‘he’ was still a man.”

“Well answered, Traveller,” Isolde said. “When the final leaf falls from the tree, what care does the gardener have for the rest of the tree?”

Levi dwelled on her words. 

“That is just a story,” Marro said. “I heard that it is just an Otherworldly God. He did it because he felt like it. That’s all. A love story? That is a flight of fancy for a lonely woman.”

“How mean, Marro,” Isolde said, pouting. “You’re going to hurt this lonely woman’s feelings.”

“I meant no disrespect,” Marro said, bowing.

“Always the simpleton, Marro,” Willow mocked. Marrow tightened his fists. 

Isolde turned to Levi. “What do you think? Do you believe in fanciful stories, or do you prefer simple explanations?”

“Stories are often dipped with truth,” Levi said. “There is no right or wrong, until the veil is unravelled, that is.”

“Well said,” Isolde said with a smile. “I’m beginning to like you, Traveller.”

“That’s a dangerous thing from such a beautiful lady,” Levi said. 

“Oh?” Isolde tilted her head. “And how do you know I’m a beauty?” She acted shocked, hands to her chest. “Or can you see me right now? Oh, I should have worn my better clothes for such an occasion.”

Levi smiled, shrouded behind his blankets. Greggory’s words flashed in his thoughts. “I don’t need eyes to truly ‘see’.”

Isolde chuckled. “Who are you really, traveller? You have a way with words. An old master, perhaps?”

“Revealing myself, now where would be the fun in that, Isolde?”

“What if I don’t like mystery?” Isolde asked.

Levi looked around the table, the backdrop nothing but mist. “Whispers of the unknown call, Mystery’s thrill enchants us all.” Levi leaned forwards. “How many of you desire the power that made ‘himself’ a god?”

Levi noticed a few of the shrouded figures shifting on the spot. It was evident that whatever stories there were about this mysterious hand that consumed the words light, they all believed one thing. Power awaited for those who found it. 

Did ‘he’ become a god from finding something in the Krag? Even if it was just a fantasy story like the epics Levi knew of, the allure of the ‘what if’, was too good to pass up.

“Trading will now commence,” the Lord spoke, everyone listened. It was the time everyone had been waiting for. But for Levi, he had nothing to trade.

***

After the trading, the people that hadn’t immediately left, entered private discussions. Levi thought he was going to leave, but Isolde had other plans.

Pulled into a private room, sat at another, smaller table. Isolde and Marro sat opposite. The two looked at him with smiles. 

“To which do I owe this pleasure?” Levi asked. 

Isolde nudged her chair closer. Clasping her hands together, she asked with a voice as smooth as honey. “We wish to recruit you into our fold, Traveller.”