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Jack stopped in the middle of the street and began to hover. To onlookers, it must have first looked as if he was simply getting on his toes. Only when his feet disconnected from the floor did the people realize what was going on. From trying to avoid getting into his way, the many-faced crowd went to suddenly stand still and watch him ascend. A society built on the idea that the nobility’s supremacy was manifested in their ability to fly reacted predictably to someone who displayed that ability – especially without wings.

The Kyr that had been watching from the rooftops followed his slow ascent with stunned gazes. Mana rushed through their wings, tinting them the colour of the midnight sky, as they too began to hover. From all over the rooftops, guards and nobles concentrated on his position. Several had their hands on their weapons, but didn’t draw them yet. They reacted to the unfamiliar sight with an expected level of self-control, given the experience with the overseers.

Without a word, Jack began to fly forwards and the crowd, on the roofs and on the street, began to follow him. They were enticed by the unusual sight. After all the time he had spent in Earth’s Abyss, that reaction was refreshing. There was a level of uncaring in the magical world of his home, created by a mixture of higher power and exposure to heavily enchanted objects and information through the internet.

At home, John would have needed to rearrange an entire city block to even get acknowledgement that he was doing something. Here, he could just slowly fly forwards and the entire city had their eyes on him. It was the closest he would ever get to doing a reveal to the mundane world, he felt.

‘You are withstanding your urge to make a grandiose speech, I am proud of you,’ Stirwin’s approving voice reached his mind.

‘I’m trying to take this seriously,’ the Gamer responded. ‘Not exactly a sign of character that I played around as much as I did.’

‘Some flaws can be removed; some are part of the soul and require constant vigilance. You will manage,’ the crocodile continued to give him advice in a friendly tone.

It was definitely good for everyone around John that he had a constant reality check in his ear. Had he just gotten his will whenever he wanted to force it through, he probably would have been an insufferable person. That and he would have made disastrous mistakes based on arrogance a lot more frequently than he did.

‘Don’t they say that a ruler’s greatest skill has to be picking his advisors?’ John asked himself. ‘Pretty great for me that fundamental advisors have been assigned to me by elemental contracts. If Stirwin wasn’t doing this job, Lydia or Gnome would have to. Everyone else… has their own issues when it comes to remaining grounded.’ Even with the two he had mentioned, it was doubtful that they could serve as effective an anchor as Stirwin did. Lydia wasn’t quite as tempted by her own pride as he was, but that didn’t mean she didn’t suffer from her position of power and the corruption it exuded. Gnome was just much too agreeable to say things outright, if she could avoid it. Stirwin didn’t suffer either issue. He seemed simultaneously humble and courageous – with more than a note of savagery mixed in to give his words the weight they needed.

These things went through John’s head, while he made his double fly across the city. He landed between Velka and Stirwin. “Come with me,” Jack told the animal companions, as he walked across the bridge. Once he was past the gate and into a large courtyard, filled with military equipment for training and to fight off sieges, he was finally stopped.

“Halt!” one of the crystal harpies shouted, landing in front of Jack. A woman with a lithe body and tanned skin, her moderate breasts only jiggling slightly as she moved around. The majority of her torso was covered in tattoos, a complete picture of whirling symbols. The Gamer wondered if the lines extended past the belt of her baggy pants. Despite being loose and flexible, the cloth was remarkably stretched around her butt. Seeking to stay focused, he raised his gaze. The most prominent feature of her attractive face were her eyes. Sharp and surrounded by a black paint that served as mascara and warpaint, their blue colour was as calm as a glass of ice water in the summer.

If John hadn’t wanted to have his first ‘normalized’ intercourse with his harem, he would have tried seriously to get into her pants. She wasn’t a haremette level beauty, but she was easily an eight out of ten, and her exotic appeal was the cherry on top. Also, as Observe revealed, she was single. As it was, however, the Gamer had other things to prioritize. “If you wish so, Ellaty,” he said and stopped in his tracks.

“Do not speak my name so casually, stranger. Who are you? What makes you think you are allowed to enter the palace?” the king’s guard demanded to know. She must have been quite famous, to not be surprised that the Gamer so easily knew who she was.

“I’m John Newman, a traveller from Earth,” the Gamer introduced himself. “I arrived in your world a few hours ago. With me I bring my Magryph Velka…” The chimera looked at one of the many pebbles that were lodged between the cobblestones, as if she saw something of value underneath. Repeatedly, she picked at the ground. “…and my light elemental Stirwin.”

“A pleasure,” Stirwin greeted with a nod of his head. That did raise a few eyebrows. John had seen neither elementals nor talking animals around here, so that was another thing quite rare in this world, it seemed.

“I have read the entire history of your people,” Jack continued, “or what I could find, anyway, and decided that I know things in all walks of life that would benefit you. I am a ruler, where I come from, and a man of personal might. Politically, scientifically and magically, I can elevate your world and I plan to discuss it with your king.”

Ellaty mustered him for several seconds, her fellow king’s guards creating a ring around John. “You claim many things,” she pointed out. “Some of which I can believe. You clearly aren’t from here and you have the power of flight – despite your lack of divine wings.” She made her own stretch a little bit. It was a tiny movement, the individual crystals parting slightly and then settling together again. “Regardless, I cannot simply let you step before the king.”

“I understand, but I have other things to do today,” Jack nonchalantly responded. “I demand a conference, by the right of the last conqueror.”

Like many medieval societies, this world had a number of rarely invoked traditions based on actions of heroic figures. One such was the right of the last conqueror, who had united the eastern and western Kyr realm. To gain access to his rival, the ruler had challenged the leader of the king’s guard and won, thus gaining him an audience.

“That right is reserved for Kyr,” Ellaty responded.

“And Roykal the first, last conqueror, declared that any who could fly and beat the head of his guard should be allowed to stand before him, just as he once had before his rival,” Jack cited from one of the history books he had read. “The right is reserved to those who can fly, not the Kyr.”

Ellaty hesitated and looked over the crowd. “He’s correct,” someone yelled down from the walls. Others soon joined. Theologians, nobles and proud soldiers all joined into a choir. “What does it matter anyway? There is no way this stranger can win!” someone shouted, a sentiment that quickly grew through much of the courtyard.

Jack continued to smile. Ellaty narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his confidence. She wasn’t the only one with a brain, but it only took a couple of people to get a chant going. It wasn’t as if she could dismiss his challenge. Not without besmirching tradition and her own honour, anyway.

“I, Ellaty, first of the king’s guard, accept your demand,” she said, to the cheer of the people and Velka’s annoyed warble, as the Magryph continued to peck at the ground. She drew her weapon and the circle around them grew to simulate an arena pit. The topless harpy entered a battle stance, holding her curved sword over her shoulder, ready to immediately perform a massive cleave. As per tradition, he had to bring his own weapons if he wanted to use them. The Gamer felt confident with only this body.

Ellaty waited for him to make a move. Deciding to make this short and decisive, Jack walked forwards, hands in his pockets. The moment he was in range, his opponent moved. Her form was exemplary but her speed was too inferior to be of harm to the Gamer. Casually, he removed his left hand from his pocket and caught the weapon between two fingers.

With one tug, he pulled the sword out of Ellaty’s grasp, tossing it to the side. “We play in different worlds,” Jack said and gracefully bowed down to kiss the woman’s hand. Using all of his Charisma, he backed off from the gesture

Ellaty seemed slightly confused as to what had just happened, but only in regards to the kiss. “So it appears,” she answered. She took her loss in stride, while much of the remaining court was still silent. “You are not like the men from here.”

‘Ah, I could have her,’ he thought. ‘I could have her with just a few words and deeds of heroism. A woman like her is often looking desperately for an equal or a better. Sadly, not today and today will be all I aim to be here for.’ “Please, announce my intent to meet him to the king,” he simply requested.

“I will. It should not take long.” Ellaty stepped away, the crowd parting around her. Many even followed her as she headed towards the stone stairs on the other side of the courtyard, leading up to a large wooden gate. Wide open, he could see the hall behind it. The throne room was situated right behind the courtyard, it seemed.

While they waited, Jack bowed down to Velka, who was still inspecting the ground.

“Is there something underneath that tickles your senses?” he asked and got a drawn-out warble in response. The oddly mechanical sound of a magpie was quite good at carrying certain emotions. Distress and annoyance, first and foremost. Scratching her neck, John made her understand that one of them wasn’t necessary in the slightest. “We’ll investigate later,” he promised. Magryphs were famous treasure finders. Whatever was triggering her sixth sense, it must have been worth looking into. Even if the item was something they couldn’t keep, John wanted to train her in telling him when she sensed something.

Tearing open the pavement wasn’t exactly the path of action of a friendly guest, though, so he stayed clear of that for the moment. Instead, he waited for the ten minutes it took for Ellaty to appear again. “You are now invited to enter, John Newman.”

Jack got on his feet and gestured for his companions to follow. Stirwin had to nudge Velka into leaving the ground alone for now. Together, the three climbed the stairs and went inside.

The throne room could have been a straight copy from the Game of Thrones set. Row upon row of long banquet tables and benches stood parallel to the grey walls to John’s left and right. Banners hung between the high-up windows. On ground level, there were only doors, leading to the further out segments of the keep. The occasional carpet and animal fur decorated the ground and two currently empty fireplaces would have created warmth in the winter.

Behind the only desk whose broad side faced the entrance and up another three steps were two thrones. One was barely more than a glorified chair, having more wood and cushioning to it than anything else in the hall. On it sat a middle-aged woman with sizable, crystal wings. They still weren’t large enough to even remotely support physical flight, but they at least approached the general direction. She had been good-looking once, without a doubt, but she had not aged well and had deep wrinkles all over her face. Massive tits were just about the only thing John would have been interested in, as the medieval, red dress she wore betrayed her narrow hips.

The other truly deserved the title of throne, being a marvellous seat, fashioned from stone and decorated with gold and thick, red cloth. Six black, crystal wings, likely the remains of previous monarchs, were attached to the throne. They were all smaller than the pair of the man seated on the throne.

He was an impressive specimen of a man. Not particularly tall, nor small for that matter, but broadly built. Muscles and a barrel-like gut combined to create a man who looked like he could bench press a boulder. His face didn’t benefit from this look. He had three chins, one because of the fat and two because of the deep cleft in the regular one. His cheeks were full and round, making the upper half of his head seem small in comparison.

“King Roykal,” Jack nodded respectfully, happy to not see an incestuous blob of a man, “I’m John Newman, I travelled from another world, as you likely have been informed.”

“That I have,” the king answered, his voice a bit on the higher side. “I would demand that you bow, but you bested my greatest warrior. I have no way to force you to pay respect.”

“Do not worry, I respect you – as a fellow ruler,” Jack said. “I will hold you to the same standards as I would myself and I bring gifts of much knowledge to your civilization.”

“Good, good, we’re always eager to hear what people from the anchor world bring us.” Roykal nodded.

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Jack smiled sweetly and announced, “I do not know if I trust those words, given how many you poisoned.”

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