Charles and Kaira strolled through the clan’s grounds, leaving the stone hallways behind for open-air paths.
The sun blazed high, warming the air with a pleasant heat, and the sky was clear, with just a few lazy white clouds drifting by.
It had been several minutes since they left Charles’s room, and the clan’s landscape was shifting.
Stone buildings gave way to dirt trails lined with grass, and soon they reached an open area—a sprawling green field dotted with tall trees, their leaves swaying gently in the breeze—swish, swish.
Charles couldn’t help but stop, his jaw dropping slightly.
’This place is massive,’ he thought, craning his neck to take it all in. ’This clan isn’t just a bunch of buildings. It’s... like a damn city.’
The sheer scale left him speechless.
He’d expected the clan to be big, but not this big.
Rian’s fragnted mories hadn’t prepared him for this.
"Kaira," Charles said, turning to her as they resud walking. "How big is this clan, exactly?"
Kaira, a couple of steps ahead, spun around with a thoughtful look.
"Honestly, I haven’t really thought about it," she said, scratching the back of her neck. "But... if you walked from the center to the edge of the territory, it’d probably take about two hours. Give or take."
Charles blinked, incredulous.
"Two hours?" he repeated, stopping dead in his tracks. "You’re kidding, right?"
Kaira laughed, shrugging.
"Nope, not kidding," she said. "And that’s just a rough guess. The clan’s always expanding, so I couldn’t tell you exactly how long it’d take to get out of its territory."
Charles fell silent, processing her words.
A wave of hazy mories from the ga he’d played in his old world hit him.
’Damn it,’ he thought, a chill running through him. ’She’s right. This clan was huge in the ga. That’s why the hero had to co kill Klaus. That guy was hell-bent on world domination.’
The thought made him shudder.
If the clan was this massive and still growing, how powerful was Klaus?
And, worse, how advanced was the technology in this world?
Charles rembered the television in Lira’s room—a detail that had thrown him off.
If they had TVs, what else did they have?
’Please tell they don’t have nukes,’ he thought, his stomach twisting.
But, realizing he was with Kaira, he decided to test the waters.
"Hey, Kaira," he said, falling into step beside her. "Ever heard of... nuclear bombs?"
Kaira frowned, puzzled.
"Nuclear... bombs?" she repeated, mangling the word with an odd accent. "What’s that?"
Charles let out a relieved laugh, amused by her confusion.
"Nothing, nothing," he said, waving a hand. "Forget it. Just a dumb idea."
Kaira eyed him, a mix of suspicion and curiosity in her gaze.
"Dumb?" she said, crossing her arms. "Don’t hit with weird stuff, Rian. What’re you getting at?"
Charles grinned, steering the topic elsewhere.
"What about a television?" he asked. "Know what that is?"
Kaira blinked, thinking it over, then nodded slowly.
"Oh, you an that noisy box where the humans outside blabber nonsense?" she said, her tone dripping with disdain. "Yeah, I’ve seen those."
Charles raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Why’s it nonsense?" he asked. "What’s wrong with the humans outside?"
Kaira sighed, as if the answer were obvious.
"They’re weak," she said, shrugging. "They waste their ti on useless stuff instead of training. They talk about... I don’t know, pointless things. Nonsense!"
Charles burst out laughing, unable to hold it in.
"Nonsense?" he echoed, teasing. "So what exactly counts as nonsense to you?"
Kaira shot him an indignant look, planting her hands on her hips.
"Nonsense is nonsense!" she huffed. "Don’t make spell out sothing so obvious, Rian. It’s stuff that’s totally useless. End of story."
Charles raised his hands, still chuckling.
"Alright, alright," he said. "So I’m a fool for not knowing how to define nonsense, huh?"
Kaira narrowed her eyes, but a mischievous smile crept onto her face.
"Keep that attitude, and I’ll ditch you out here," she said, gesturing at the field around them. "We’ve been walking for a while, and I bet you’d get lost trying to find your way back."
Charles laughed but glanced around, realizing she was right. They’d left the main buildings far behind, and this open area was unfamiliar.
"Fair point," he said, throwing up his hands in surrender. "No more dumb questions, I swear. But seriously, don’t abandon here. I’d end up fighting a tree or sothing."
Kaira let out a loud laugh, shaking her head.
"You’re hopeless," she said, but her tone was warr now. "Co on, the market’s not far."
They kept walking, and a few minutes later, they arrived.
The clan’s market was a bustling open-air plaza, packed with colorful tents—mostly yellow, marking the vendors.
The air was thick with scents: spices, leather, freshly forged tal, and sothing sweet Charles couldn’t place.
People were everywhere—so in apprentice tunics, others in Master garb, and a few with badges hinting at higher ranks.
Charles stood frozen, awestruck.
’This is like a festival,’ he thought, watching vendors shout offers and buyers haggle with gusto—"Ten coins, no less!" "Five, and that’s generous!"
He wandered over to a tent where a man in a yellow tunic displayed weapons.
A short sword with a black leather handle caught his eye.
"How much for that sword?" Charles asked, pointing.
The vendor, an older man with a neatly trimd beard, sized him up, eyeing his fighter’s tunic.
"Ten gold coins," he said firmly.
Charles blinked, taken aback.
"Ten?" he repeated. He nodded at a small bottle of green liquid on a nearby table. "What about that potion?"
"Five gold coins," the vendor replied, crossing his arms.
Charles nodded, thanking him with a gesture, and stepped away from the tent.
’I... have no idea how much that’s worth,’ he thought, frowning. ’I don’t have a single coin, and Dren owes ... how much?’
Realizing he was clueless about this world’s currency, he turned to Kaira, who was trailing him with an amused smile.
"Hey," Charles said, lowering his voice. "How much money do you make? Just to get a sense."
Kaira shrugged, thinking it over.
"As a Master, I get fifteen gold coins a month," she said. "But... when I was a ntor, I made eight."
Charles let out a low whistle, impressed.
"Not bad," he said. "And servants? What do people at my rank make?"
Kaira laughed, as if the question were hilarious.
"Servants get one contribution point a month," she explained. "Collect ten points, and you get one gold coin."
Charles’s jaw dropped.
"One point a month?" he exclaid. "And I need ten for a single coin? That’s pocket change!"
Kaira laughed harder, covering her mouth.
"Wow, you’re really into money!" she teased, giving him a playful nudge with her elbow. "But yeah, low ranks don’t earn much. That’s why everyone’s dying to move up."
Charles shook his head, still wrapping his mind around it.
"What about the other ranks?" he asked. "Like, what do Aspirants make?"
Kaira eyed him, amused by his curiosity.
"If I rember right..." she said, "Aspirants get three contribution points a month. Novices, five. Disciples get one gold coin straight up. Then Warriors make two coins, Guardians four, ntors eight, Masters like fifteen, and Grand Masters... twenty."
Charles went quiet, doing ntal math.
’This system’s a total scam!’ he thought, annoyed.
As they wandered through the market, Charles took in the sights.
Arena fighters laughed and joked while inspecting weapons, and at one tent, he saw a young guy buying a huge bundle of flowers for a girl, who threw her arms around him with a beaming smile.
’Well, damn,’ Charles thought, grinning. ’Even in this fight-crazy clan, there’s room for romance.’
Among the tents, sothing on the ground in one shop caught his eye.
It was a watch—not a regular one, but a sleek digital model with a glowing screen and buttons on the sides, like a smartwatch from his world.
’What the hell?’ Charles thought, stopping dead in his tracks. ’A smartwatch? Here?’
Reviews
All reviews (0)