Arc#4 Chapter 15: Days Away from Home (Patreon)

"That's neat. Someone in Anderharbor gave birth to quintuplets."

Three days after arriving at the republic, Reivan yawned from within his private office. In his grasp was the newspaper sent to him directly from the kingdom.

As expected from a nation at peace, only mundane things showed up on the papers, accompanied by some vague gossip here and there. But it was important for people like him to be familiar with the public's tone. There was also no telling how some of the seemingly ordinary events might allude to more serious concerns.

"No issues." Reivan judged, setting aside the newspaper and taking out a different sheaf of papers. Unlike the material earlier, these documents mentioned facts that the common populace was not or should not be aware of. He lightly skimmed the headlines in search of new developments.

'Signs of civilization continue to be discovered in Outland, but no actual life has been spotted... Light skirmishes with Argonia in the northern borders continue. Zero casualties for now. Seven imperial nobles were executed by the field general... Queen Stella safely gave birth to her third child... Orc merchant ship from the Sutherim Continent sighted at th— Wait a minute. Birth...?'

Reivan frowned and flipped back a few pages to the tiny little entry about his sister-in-law giving birth. "Why is the fucking font so small... I almost missed it."

According to the tiny bit of info, the mother and the child were both stable. And this time, Stella had given birth to a boy, successfully fulfilling her goal of giving King Roland a son.

'Well, I guess this means she can focus on Ascendence now. That's good.'

Something about the information was mildly concerning for him though — the boy had albinism.

'Huh... Should I be worried?'

Reivan hummed thoughtfully and reclined on his chair. To be honest, Reivan didn't think it was such a big deal. There were disadvantages to albinism, but they were in a world of swords, magic, and healing priests — there were plenty of ways to compensate.

"Valter?"

"Yes, Your Highness?" Valter responded from his spot near the door. As they were in a safe place, there was no need for him to hide in Reivan's shadow, saving energy by just standing by like an unwavering guardian. "Have you need of my counsel?"

"A little. Apparently, Stella gave birth to a boy this time."

Ever the loyal knight, Valter showed an uncharacteristic smile. "That's wonderful news."

"Right? It's great. I wanna go back and see my nephew right now..." Reivan smiled in agreement before moving on to his actual concern. "But the boy has albinism. Obviously, I don't mind something like that — family is family. But will there be problems regarding this matter?"

"Well, I can't say there aren't." Valter paused, seemingly taking a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking calm tone. "But there is no need to be overly concerned. Aizen has had a number of kings who had albinism, and they were just as wise, if not wiser, than their predecessors. And even excluding those who took the throne, there were plenty of other royals who had it in the past. I have seen a fair share as well."

"I see." Reivan sighed in relief. "That's good, that's good."

'Well, Aizen has been around for a while. It wouldn't be strange for the royal family to have seen a number of albino members. And accepted them as well.'

Now that he knew he didn't have to be especially careful around the topic, Reivan started penning a letter of congratulations for his brother and sister-in-law. Given his current location, this was the most reliable way of communication that didn't depend on relaying messages through multiple people.

After all, whether it was holostones or the dream crystals, their range wasn't long enough to reach his family all the way from another country. They could somewhat get around that by creating a chain of dream crystal holders to relay messages over long distances, but for things like this, his happiness for them could be more felt with a letter he wrote by hand.

'Thank Sormon I've been practicing my penmanship in my spare time...'

Reivan dispensed with formality or flowery words, simply conveying his delight at the birth of yet another relative. He reminded Roland to take a moment to rest from royal duties from time to time to see his children, as they were only children for a very short time.

As for Stella, Reivan gently urged her to Ascend, since an adult shouldn’t let their two-year-old kid worry about them. He expressed very explicit emphasis on his suggestion by underlining that particular part and writing it with all capital letters. Hopefully, she would get on with it and give everyone around her some piece of mind.

Finally, he naturally wrote about his desire to see his nephew in the flesh. An image could be sent through the dream crystals and maybe even a painting could be made in the newborn's likeness, but Reivan didn't want any of that. He would go there in person sometime soon, with a gift in hand.

'Yep. This is fine.'

Satisfied with the two letters, he folded them up and took out a small block of wax. Reivan instantly melted the wax with a small burst of lightning then pressed a special signet ring, stamping the letter with the royal seal.

"Clarisse," Reivan called out. "Please come in."

After a moment's delay, the door to his opened and a pretty brunette in a maid outfit entered. She smiled and bowed low in his direction before speaking. "I await your orders, Your Highness."

Feeling up for some idle chatter with his personal maid, Reivan placed an elbow on his table and cradled his chin with his palm. "How is the republic treating you, Clarisse? It's much colder here than back home, so you have to take care not to get sick."

"Indeed. I find myself dreading any time outside." Clarisse giggled, her charming blue eyes narrowing into soft crescents. "Which is why I've been assigning those particular roles to the younger ones."

"Power harassment is bad, y'know. Oh, and speaking of the new hires, are there any issues with them?"

"None at all." The veteran maid shook her head immediately. "They’re a bit nervous at suddenly being asked to go to another country, but they’re also strangely excited."

"I see... That's good. Remember to keep them away from sensitive areas in the embassy."

"Yes, Your Highness. I’ll make sure to gauge their trustworthiness properly in the time that we are here. Since the other ministers brought a few of their own personal servants, there hasn’t been a need for the new hires to do anything but menial tasks."

"Very good. Have you noticed any other problems?"

Clarisse silently mulled over her thoughts before a mischievous smile crossed her face. "There is something... But I fear that Your Highness would not like to hear it."

"Speak freely."

"As you command... Well, lately I've been having trouble with a certain prince's dirty sheets. I replace them every day, but the next morning, without fail, his sheets would have a spattering of stubborn stains again. On the other hand, Dame Mercer’s room seems to remain mostly unused…"

Reivan almost choked on nothing and sat up straight. "...Fascinating. Anyway. My sister-in-law has safely given birth apparently. I'd like you to deliver some letters to the palace."

"Understood." Clarisse bowed, her impish look replaced by a professional smile. "Should I also collect letters from the Princess and the Grand Minister before summoning the courier?"

"That's a good idea. Please do that."

"As you wish, Your Highness."

Clarisse strode toward Reivan's table and retrieved the letters before bowing once again. Then she left, leaving only the fragrance of a mature woman behind.

Reivan waited until she was gone before broaching a different topic with his guardian knight. "Has communication been re-established with all the spies, Valter?"

"Not all of them, no" Valter shook his head with a sigh. "After some light investigation, it is clear that some of them either died or took on a new identity after being discovered. It happens frequently with spies allowed to act independently. So right now, we still aren't sure of how many still draw breath."

"Why do you say some of them may still be alive?"

"There were still signs of communication attempts even after they supposedly died. So it is clear that some spies are alive, they simply faked their own deaths and changed their identities when their previous identities were compromised.”

“I see…”

“Some might simply have lost their usual modes of communication for various reasons. After all, they cannot carry spatial storage artifacts on their person while taking up certain professions. They have to resort to hiding their tools nearby, but if that entire area is compromised or they lose access to that area, then they’ll have to improvise and wait until an opportunity to contact the motherland arises."

Reivan tapped his chin and sunk into his thoughts for a moment. "Is there no hope of finding them secretly?"

"That may not necessarily be the case.” Valter shook his head. “There aren't train stations in every part of the republic, but there are quite a lot of them. We can simply send out subtle clues in the hopes they can notice.”

“I suppose so…”

“The train stations are places where people gather so our lost operatives are more likely to see the clues if we utilize the stations. In fact, some of the spies that were assumed dead actually turned up in some stations. They took a chance and carved a message in the bathroom using a special cipher. People just saw it as graffiti, but some of our knights noticed."

"Good, good..." Reivan licked his lips as he took out a stack of documents listing all of the spies who had been found, including their true and fake identities. He flipped through them one by one, memorizing each and every name before stopping at a particular one. "Valter?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“I understand why there are so many spies working at taverns and bars, but why is there also an alarming number who work as fishermen?”

Valter swept back his dark purple hair and answered like a teacher calmly instructing his disciple. “Fishermen have an easier time forming connections with sailors — who travel from port to port and even to the Pentagoria Continent. They also have the excuse of selling their catch to stay in ports for a long time, allowing them to gain insights into many things. Also, in the event of discovery, they can simply take to the sea.”

“Oh. So that’s why.” Reivan smiled and flipped through the pages some more before standing up. “Well, let’s wait for a few more weeks. Maybe more dead spies will turn up alive.”

“As you wish. I will continue to keep a lookout. Perhaps Xanth—" Valter stopped mid-sentence before clearing his throat and resuming. "Xander, I mean, can help.”

“Thanks as always, Valter.” Reivan gave his guardian knight an appreciative thumbs up before raising both arms and stretching. “Now, what else am I supposed to do today…?”

Currently, his existence as a figurehead was being put to use by having Grand Minister Greteliana meet with quite a few important figures from Arkhan.

If Reivan and Jiji hadn’t come, that would place the Grand Minister in the highest seat. And as the one who sat at the highest seat, Aizen would seem too weak if everyone and their mother could meet her as long as they came to the embassy.

But since Reivan and Jiji were present, that lowered the Grand Minister’s relative importance within the embassy's personages, subsequently allowing her to meet anyone she wanted with no negative implications to the kingdom’s honor and prestige.

Basically, Reivan’s presence was only warranted when someone really important came, or when Aizen was invited to a big event.

‘Man, politics are so fucking annoying.’

Reivan grimaced at how many unspoken things and invisible implications one had to pay attention to.

He didn’t really want to admit it, but he somewhat longed for the simplicity of the Outlands. In that accursed place, who your allies and enemies were was clear. And all you had to do was kill your enemies while making sure you and your allies survived.

Simple. Even though it wasn't always easy.

‘I’m so glad Jiji is here too…’

As mentioned, Reivan occupied the highest status in the embassy even though he was nearly useless in a political sense. This left Jiji somewhat free to maneuver on her own, and boy was she doing some work.

Somehow, two Senators who were pro-Argonia had secretly expressed their desire to become naturalized Aizenians. Of course, this was after they had shown their usefulness by helping Aizen with their authority. Reivan had secretly confirmed their sincerity by using his special ability to detect lies.

And just like that, the kingdom now had moles within the pro-imperial faction.

There was a saying that too many chefs spoiled the broth. With that in mind, Reivan didn't want to ruin anything by carelessly butting in, so he stayed put like a good little figurehead and let the capable people do what they did best.

Because of that, he was steadily running out of things to do and manage. Of course, he still had very important duties on his plate, but he wasn't nearly as busy as the people who were supposedly below him.

'What else is there to do...? Ah.'

"Speaking of Sir Xander..." Reivan tapped the table and lowered her voice. "Valter, have you received word from him about... You-know-what?"

Valter, who seemed to have instantly understood what he meant, shook his head. "There has been no good news yet. His subordinates are observing some test takers, but none of them seem too keen on their chances and are actively trying to escape our watch."

"Unfortunate. Hopefully, at least one passes... Like that guy. The one whose mother we snuck off to Aizen."

"Indeed. Perhaps I should personally go? Just to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"No, no. If he passes, then great. But if nobody does, then we abandon the plan and move on to the next one. There's no need to do too much, let's just wait and see."

"As you wish." Valter saluted before falling back into solemn silence, leaving Reivan to his thoughts.

‘I think that's all I'm supposed to do... So I’m totally free for now.’

And that meant one thing.

“Valter,” Reivan smirked and got up. “I’m going to visit Elsa for a bit.”

‘I’ve completed literally all my duties here and I’ve been putting it off for way too long!’

Reivan's heart, mind, body, and soul were longing for his red-headed companion's warmth. Three days of being so near, yet being unable to see her were torturous for him.

“Understood.” The guardian knight nodded with a neutral expression. “I’ll give you some privacy by only watching from afar. For your safety, please make sure to keep the Sword Star’s bell and the Saintess’ gift ready.”

“Of course. Ah, you’ve been tracking her, right? She hasn’t left the capital yet?”

“Yes, she seems to be a guest at another company. They seem to be discussing business as usual.”

“Then please send me somewhere close by.” Reivan nodded as he used a special mask-shaped artifact to transform into his Ken persona — the official head of Ouroboros.

Valter smiled slightly before snapping his fingers. “I hope you enjoy your time.”

A puddle of dark sludge manifested on the floor in front of Reivan and he jumped right into it.

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When Reivan regained agency, he quickly realized that he was on a very high building’s roof. It conveniently provided a perfect view of the streets below and the structures around it.

‘Bingo.’

Reivan's developed olfactory senses informed him that someone with a very familiar scent was inside the building in front of the one he was on top of. An open window was to blame for why he so easily found her. On the building’s face was a sign that announced its owner as “The Veraya Company”.

‘Oh, whoops. My clothes…’

A brief observation of the people below made it apparent he would draw unnecessary attention if he showed up still dressed as a prince. In hindsight, he should have changed before jumping into Valter’s creepy wormhole puddle. With that in mind, he checked his surroundings and noted how the building he was on was the tallest one around, meaning nobody could see him at the moment. He quickly changed his clothes to blend in with what was normal for commoners in Arkhan.

‘This should do.’

In the spirit of blending in with the surrounding people, he wore a white cotton shirt and paired it with some sturdy black pants. Completing the ensemble was a knee-length black coat made of heavy wool to stave off the cold that didn't discomfort him in the slightest. Finally, he saw no need to alter his choice of footwear, as he already wore a pair of combat-ready boots.

'A hat... Actually, never mind.'

Reivan didn’t like hats so he didn’t put one on before his body turned into an incorporeal clump of ebony mist. He snaked across the air far faster than an ordinary civilian’s eyes could perceive, rematerializing in a dark alley with a good view of Veraya Company’s building.

Although he was excited to surprise his lover with his presence, he wasn’t uncouth enough to barge in and interrupt her work. That was why he intended to wait for her no matter how long it took.

But even after thirty minutes of waiting, she didn’t come out.

‘Doesn’t seem like she’s being held there against her will…’

Valter would have said something to him if any tomfoolery was happening. His silence meant that Elsa’s business really was just taking too long.

“Ah…” Suddenly, Reivan realized that he resembled a stalker a bit too much by hiding in some dark alley, watching and waiting for a pretty woman he fancied to come out of a building.

The woman in question was in a relationship with him and he had good intentions, but waiting at the alley any more than he already did made him feel strange. So he stepped out of it and tried to find somewhere else to loiter in. Preferably, with a nice seat to park his butt on while he waited.

‘Oh, that place should do nicely.’

Noticing an empty bench near the Veraya Company building. In order to have something to do while waiting, Reivan made his way towards a restaurant close by, intending to purchase a snack or a drink. He gently pushed open the door, prompting a bell to chime and signal his entrance.

“Welcome!” A cute waitress with rich brown hair in a bouncy ponytail turned around and greeted him with a smile before her eyes widened for a moment and her tone became much more welcoming. “Please come inside, it’s warm…”

“Thank you.” Reivan nodded and walked inside with his hands in his coat pockets. He smiled at the waitress, pretending to be slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m new here and don’t really know what to order. I want to take it outside to eat or drink though. Any recommendations?”

“Oh…” The waitress tapped her chin while humming to herself. “If you want something to take out, I recommend the house brew! It’s a mix of fermented berries. A bit alcoholic though. Is that fine with you, sir?”

"Does it leave a smell?"

"A sweet smell, yes."

Reivan pondered over it for a while before he shrugged. "That'll do, I suppose."

'Not like I can get drunk from one drink, after all.'

"Coming right up..." The waitress was about to turn around to get his order, but she suddenly stopped. Her lips curled up in mischief as she gave him an impish wink. “If you're up for something a little different, you can just have me instead. Non-alcoholic and just as sweet. Oh, but I won't get off for the next three hours.”

Reivan’s brows shot up at suddenly being flirted with, but this wasn’t his first time in a big Arkhanian city, so he recovered with a calm smile. "How can I be sure you're actually sweet? Do I get a free taste first?"

"We'll see." The waitress giggled and licked her lips, batting her eyelashes again. "So?"

With how she was pushing the matter, Reivan was now sure that she was making a serious proposition. He shook his head while beating down the tiny bit of regret in the back of his mind. “Unfortunately, I don't have time. I have somewhere to be so I can’t wait that long.”

“Aww. Are you sure?”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Oi.” A different but equally attractive blonde waitress cut into the conversation, lightly tapping the first waitress on the back of the head. With a scowl, she scolded her coworker. “You’re on the clock.”

The first waitress scoffed. “You’re just jealous...”

“Excuse me? Say that again?”

“Nothing~!” The brunette played it off with a grin and turned back to Reivan. "I'll get you your drink, handsome. Wait right there."

Reivan nodded, watching her go.

The blonde waitress smiled awkwardly from beside him. “I apologize for her rudeness, sir.”

“I don’t mind.” Reivan waved it off nonchalantly and chuckled. “It’s rather flattering. Or is this some sort of sales tactic? Attractive waitresses flirt with customers to encourage patronage — that kind of thing? Does that mean you’re going to flirt with me too?”

“No, no. We don’t have such a sales tactic...” The waitress waved her hand in a panic before looking around and lowering her tone. “But… I get off a bit earlier than her. In an hour at that. How about it?”

“Uh…” Reivan jaw slackened for a bit before he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I wasn't lying. I have somewhere to be.”

The waitress seemed embarrassed at being rejected but she backed off. “O-okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Leaving those words behind, she turned her blushing face away from him and ran off, leaving Reivan feeling complicated.

‘...Should I have picked an uglier face?’

Reivan really did feel flattered, but it wasn’t like he was wearing his real face. So having women approaching him didn’t make him too happy, and it was rather troubling to keep rejecting them.

The very liberal culture concerning dating and sex within large cities in the republic was really a headache sometimes.

‘I can’t get used to how people here can just… fuck someone they only met a few hours ago… Like, how have they not wiped themselves out through sexually transmitted diseases?’

He sat down at an open seat nearby and saw a sign where all the prices were listed when he looked to the side. A quick scan led his eyes to a drink labeled as the house’s special, so he prepared the money in advance. That way, he could pay quickly when his order arrived.

Surprisingly, a middle-aged man who looked like he may have been the restaurant’s owner brought Reivan’s order to him with barely disguised annoyance. Only when Reivan paid did he look somewhat placated. The waitresses were far into the back, looking extremely dejected as they wiped off tables.

Reivan resisted the urge to chuckle at their expense before taking his drink — which was served in a glass bottle that could apparently be returned to the restaurant for a partial refund — and leaving. He found that the bench still had nobody occupying it, so he sat down and slowly sipped on his drink while waiting.

‘Good, if not a bit too sweet. I’ll give it a six out of ten, I guess.’

He idly swished the bottle’s contents around while examining random strangers with [Supreme Insight]. Filth’s existence was proof that extraordinary talent could be found in the most unexpected places. Furthermore, he was familiar with that trope in novels regarding main characters who possessed a way to see other people’s stats — those stories often had the protagonist find all sorts of talented folk who just so happened to have problems the protagonist could solve.

Of course, Reivan could only dream of having such convenient things happen to him randomly. Reality was not as kind.

That’s why he was steadily making a habit of observing literally everybody as long as he wasn’t particularly busy. After all, it seemed foolish to make a goal out of peeking at every single person in the world’s stats. For now, Reivan decided to slightly rely on serendipity, fate, and chance.

‘Average. Everybody’s average.’

It was a disappointing result, but Reivan wasn’t too bummed about it since his expectations were nonexistent. Really, even he didn’t believe he’d find someone so casually. Such timely developments were for web novel protagonists only.

And as far as he knew, Reivan wasn’t one — or perhaps if he was, the author of his life was actively looking for ways to make his life more difficult.

'Fucking asshole. Go suck on a dick and die.'

“I’m sorry. Actually, I’m waiting for my fiance…” Reivan rejected the fifth woman to talk to him since he sat down. He spent an idle few seconds watching the beautiful lady walk away before sighing.

Being hit on was flattering, especially as a man, but it really was inconvenient at times. He could barely wait to share a passionate night with Elsa after not seeing each other for weeks, and then all these hot babes just had to keep shoving their attractiveness into his face.

Elsa was taking so long that Reivan almost wanted to burst into the building and take her somewhere they could be alone.

‘Oh! Finally!’

Perhaps the beings above heard his silent horny pleas because there was movement at the Veraya Company’s entrance. An impossibly gorgeous and wonderful woman was being escorted out by a few female employees with great respect, her flowing crimson dress robes reaching past her knees. The air around her seemed to sparkle with the power of her presence alone and Reivan could swear he heard a church choir singing somewhere.

‘Beautiful.’

Reivan caught himself feeling breathless as all the lust in him flew out of his body, leaving only happiness and relief behind. Really, they weren’t apart for that long, but seeing her in person filled him with so much solace.

‘Oops. Can’t stare at her for too long…’

If he just stood still gawking at her, she would likely board her magitech carriage and leave without even noticing him. So he very slowly snuck up on her, pretending to be someone casually strolling by. Behind Elsa were a handful of female bodyguards trained up by Sir Xander, but they all recognized Reivan — or rather, Ken, Xanthus' "master" — at first glance. As they were about to alert their mistress, Reivan put a finger to his lips to silence them.

Unimpeded, Reivan got behind her right before she boarded her carriage and pretended to be someone begging for alms. “You got some change to spare, miss?”

“G-Goodness, you surprised me…” Elsa stopped midway and turned around. “I actually do have some change, just wait a… Hm?”

Without even looking at Reivan’s face first, Elsa’s gaze fell on his immaculate clothing, which was obviously not something a beggar would be wearing. Her brows furrowed in confusion as her eyes steadily rose, finally landing on his face. “Huh?”

“Got some change, miss?” Reivan repeated with a grin, arms spread out in welcome. “I can accept hugs instead of alms too.”

“Honey…?” Elsa squinted at him as if not believing he was really there. “Is that you?”

“What does it look like? Of course, it's me.”

“I mean, you could be someone wearing an illusion artifact to look like him.”

“That's... That's a really good point, actually.”

'Actually, I am him, but I'm also using an illusion artifact to look like him...'

Reivan nodded with a chuckle and took out a holostone, using it to send her a message. “There. Go and check.”

Elsa looked at her own holostone and gradually smiled. She stowed it away and stepped forward to wrap her arms around him. “It really is you… Oh, and I told you not to send strange messages in public. What were you going to do if someone saw? Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. Duh.” Reivan chuckled and returned the embrace, kissing the crown of her head and even lifting her up for a moment. He stroked her rich red hair with a big smile on his face and as her familiar warmth mixed with his own, he couldn’t help but hold her tighter.

‘This is the best.’

At this moment in time, all dirty thoughts vanished and he was just happy they were together again.

“Okay, enough.” Elsa giggled and tapped his back, urging him to let go. “We’re in public.”

“Let them watch. I don’t mind.”

“I mind...”

Reivan was forced to reluctantly let her go when she grabbed a handful of his ass. No matter how much he loved her, he simply couldn’t ever accept anything going up there — even if it was just a single pinky finger. And Elsa’s movements reminded him of her latest… attempts to do just that.

Elsa giggled at his reaction. “You’re like a scared little girl… I heard it feels good for men over there too, you know?”

“I don’t care. Nothing is ever going up there. Ever.”

“Fine, fine.” Elsa sounded amused as she climbed aboard the carriage. Once she was inside, she peeked out and then beckoned for him to follow.

Reivan nodded and got on as well.