There was a long pause. The question took Verity by surprise, and he wasnât sure how to answer. Usually, in these types of stories, the main character rarely revealed that he was from another world, and kept to the story that he was from a âfaraway landâ. He had also seen stories where being from another world resulted in discrimination, or even hatred, at times.
As those thoughts crossed his mind, Verity remembered Eleanorâs words. He was panicked back then, and barely focused on what she had said, but her voice still echoed in his head. She had called him a âPlanewalkerâ and had been planning on selling him for obscure purposes. Whatâs more, Verity clearly remembered her mentioning that because of his status as a Planewalker, he should never go to the Holy Temple. Hence, there was clearly a stigma associated with the existence of other worlders. He could only imagine what would happen to him if he was caught.
The more Verity thought about it, the more he felt that the safest option would simply be to pretend he was a lost traveler from far away whoâd set out to become an adventurer. It sounded plausible, and it was difficult to fact-check. He had no doubts it could pass as his story, and it would allow him to protect his real identity for as long as possible.
â...â
It was, of course, the most logical option, and yet, it didn't feel right.
â...Should I really just lie?â
It seemed safe, and he could always tell her the truth later, when they knew each other better.
But Verity shook his head.
What was he thinking? Wouldnât it be hypocritical of him to want to be the disciple of someone he could not be honest with? If he lied now, and she ended up uncovering the truth on her own, their relationship might worsen unnecessarily. Plus, Verity had not sensed any ill intent in the question, just simple curiosity. Verity genuinely felt that she wouldnât chop his head off the moment he admitted to coming from another worldâ¦probably.
âAnyway, if sheâs asking, itâs because she knows already.â
Verity ultimately sighed. âYes, I am.â
There was a moment of silence before Evangelina acknowledged the answer.
âI see. That explains the strange clothes.â She said bluntly.
âAh right, Iâm wearing jeans and a t-shirt.â
âAnd the accent.â Evangelina added.
â...I have an accent?â
Evangelina shrugged. âDonât we all?â
âPff.â Verity couldn't help but snort. âI didnât picture you as the type to make jokes.â
Evangelina looked away without replying, and since she was not saying anything else, the conversation seemed to be reaching its end, but her tone suddenly darkened as her lips parted.
â...Change of plans.â The light almost seemed to flicker more intensely. â...If that Vandervite girl has already reached town, then the Holy Order knows of you.â
A cold shiver ran down Verityâs spine. This was the most serious he had seen her. â...Will I have to hide?â He asked.
âNo.â She replied. âI can vouch for you with my authority, but youâll at least look the part.â She looked him up and down. âLetâs start with the clothes.â
She pulled a pouch from her cloak, flipped it upside down, and three items of clothing fell from it: A gray tunic, brown pants which seemed to be made of linen and a pair of leather shoes.
âPut this on.â She ordered.
Verity raised an eyebrow. âYou just carry menâs clothing on you?â
âNo it was for-â Evangelina seemed to wince for a moment, before grunting and clicking her tongue. âJust put it on!â She snapped.
âYes Master!â Verity replied, startled.
A few seconds passed in utter silence.
Evangelina frowned. She had given the kid the clothes, but for some strange reason, he was not getting dressed. He simply stared at her, a confused expression on his face. Evangelinaâs patience thinned as the seconds passed without any action from the boy. âIs this kid slow?â She wondered.
âDidnât I tell you to put it on?â She asked.
She expected the boy to snap out of his apparent stupor, but he instead scratched the back of his neck, and seemed almost embarrassed as he gathered the courage to speak.
âSeriously, what is up with him!?â
Evangelina frowned, now irritated. âSpeak! What is it!?â
Verity wasnât sure how exactly to say this, so he took a deep breath and said it the simplest way he could. â...Arenât you going to turn around?â He asked his master.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Her eye twitched. She would have hit him on the head if he really was her disciple, but she held back. She could only clench her fist, and grind her teeth as the boyâs words echoed in her head.
âAre you a man or are you not!? Stop acting like a sheltered maiden and change, damn it!!â
When Verity did not move fast enough, she stomped her foot, extinguished her spell, and turned around. âThere! Now change before I really get angry!â
âAre they less prude in this world or something..?â Verity thought to himself, keeping his mouth shut as to not anger his master any further.
He rapidly cast aside his former clothes, only keeping his underwear, and put on the ones Evangelina had given him. They were old-fashioned for modern Earth standards, resembling the clothing of the medieval period, but, against all odds, they were extremely comfortable. Verity was shocked by how soft the fabric felt against his skin, and the leather shoes heâd been given were even more comfortable than the running shoes heâd been wearing.
âAre these made with special materials? Or maybe theyâre items!?â
It really was in cases like this, that the [Appraise] skill might have been useful. Verity made a mental note to acquire it as soon as he got the chance.
âIâm done!â He announced once heâd laced his second shoe.
Evangelina snapped her fingers, grunting as she did so. â[Light]â And when she turned around, her student reappeared before her eyes. She studied him up and down, scrutinizing his new set of clothes.
âHmph, at least you donât look half-bad.â She said, still irritated by the previous ordeal. âNow, get some sleep. Weâll be passing by a friend of mine in the morning before returning to town.â
âYes Master!â Verity saluted instead of cupping his hand in his fist this time. He still wasnât sure which gesture was appropriate, so he was going through all those he knew until he obtained a satisfactory reaction. Evangelinaâs raised eyebrow told him all he needed to know.
âNot that one, got it.â
Evangelina sighed, and retrieved a large coat of fur from her dimensional storage. It seemed to be the processed fur of a large animal. It bore grand blue stripes and the coat itself was made of silver, as if the animal it belonged to was a mis-colored tiger. She instructed Verity to sleep on it, and so he did, laying down and using his former clothes as a pillow.
He was more than happy to get some rest after all that had happened. His body was fine thanks to Evangelinaâs potion, but his mind was incredibly tired. He closed his eyes, and he fell into a deep slumber.
Or at least heâd have liked to, but Verity couldnât sleep. As soon as his eyelids fell, the nightâs scenes replayed in his mind constantly, especially Ashâs last gargle of blood before the light faded from his eyes.
His stomach twisted.
âI had to kill him! What else was I supposed to do!?â
âBut what if he was telling the truth? What if he really was going to leave you alone?â
âDo you honestly think that was true!? You saw it!! He couldnât even tell me what color my eyes were!â
âSo what!? It was dark! He could have simply missed it!â
"Even then, he was trying to kill you to begin with, donât you remember?!!â
Verity shook his head. âShut up, all of you!â He whispered to himself, turning and tossing in his attempt to sleep.
Both voices were his, but because of his poor social life, Verity often tended to argue with himself when he was troubled. It had always been a pointless endeavor, as the side that won was always the side Verity wanted to win. Still, he couldnât help it. He needs to validate himself.
Killing Ash was the right choice, and Verity knew that, but despite that, killing someone wasnât easy. It wasnât that Verity regretted killing Ash, or thatt he would have done any differently if he had the chance to do it again, but it still weighed on him.
As much as he would have liked to, Verity wasnât like the heroes in those web novels, where the main character who lived in the 21st century was able to murder anything and anyone with little to no moral burden.
The most ironic part is that heâd dreamed of this scenario for many nights, fantasizing about slicing through his enemies with lightning or fire covering the blade of his weapon.
But now that it was happening to him, he struggled to accept the blood on his hands.
Verity scoffed. âIdiot.â
No matter how hard he tried, he couldnât sleep. The image was too vivid, and the guilt too strong. He wondered how long it would take until he was at peace with it.
As he was about to curse himself once more, a voice broke through the darkness. âYou know kidâ¦â Evangelinaâs voice resonated. â...Iâve lived a life where Iâve had to do a lot of things I didnât like.â
Verity opened his eyes, catching a glimpse of her face illuminated by the light. Her sharp features, even further enhanced by her spell, seemed almost melancholic as she spoke.
âAt times, I had no choice.â She continued, her tone even but distant. âOther times, I couldnât control my own emotions, and sometimes⦠It was by accident.â She brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking into the distance. âBut whenever I doubted myself, or wondered if I was the right person for the task, there was only one thing that, if anything, let me forget about it all for a moment.â
â...And what was that?â Verity asked.
A faint, almost wistful smile curved her lips. âMy spear.â She stood up, and pulled the obsidian spear from her cloak. It was darker than anything around them, and yet it shimmered against the dim light.
âI swung my spear.â She said, her voice firm. âUntil I could no longer remember my worries.â
She began, splitting through the air with a sharp, deliberate motion. âEveryone has their demons,â She murmured. â But when my spear is in my hands, at least I can fight them off.â
She took another swing, and then scoffed, her usual sharpness returning. âOr at least thatâs the way I see it.
She continued, performing a basic kata with the spear. One sheâd practiced at least a million times. Decades upon decades of repetition. Each movementâs precision was surgical, and even though they were merely for show, each strikeâs lethality was unmistakable.
Verity watched, in awe, despite his lack of knowledge of martial arts. He understood that she was doing this for him, although he felt sheâd never admit it. So, without wasting another moment, he grabbed his spear, the weight of it strangely unfamiliar in his hands.
âIâll try it too.â He said, his voice quiet but resolute.
Evangelina didnât look at him, focusing on her swings, but he felt faint approval from her. âSuit yourself.â She told him.
He clumsily imitated her swings, raising and lowering his spear half a beat after Evangelina. They moved together, but they were incomparable when it came to wielding the spear. One had reached the peak of swordsmanship, while the other had barely touched one before. Yet, surprisingly, both of their figures seemed to overlap, resembling each other in more than just technical skill.
âThank you, Master.â Verity said, glancing at Evangelina mid-swing.
She snorted. âThis isnât for you, Iâm just training. And Iâm not your Master, kid.â Another swing cut through the darkness. â...But I could show you a few simple swings if you ever feel the need to use your spear.â
"...I'll take you up on that offer."
Both of them swung their spears until the two suns rose.