We left Veridale the next morning with sun on our backs, warm bread in our packs, and just enough optimism to guarantee we'd regret it.
There was something peaceful about traveling without monsters for once. Just a dirt road, chirping birds, and a cart pulled by a mule who only responded to eldritch commands. (Velis named him Thespian because he made dramatic groaning noises on hills.)
We didn't talk much. Not in the brooding, "dark pasts" kind of way. Just the quiet of people who didn't need to fill every moment. It was nice. Suspiciously nice.
So of course, it didn't last.
---
By the time we reached the outer gates of Aurevalis, the capital city of the kingdom of Astralein, my optimism had already developed three stress fractures.
The city rose in perfect symmetry—concentric rings of marble and enchantment, bisected by a river and polished so aggressively it could probably reflect moral failings. Banners flapped from every spire, each embroidered with house sigils, guild crests, and slogans like "Strength Through Harmony" and "Order is Magic.".
Iria stood tall beside me, hand resting on the hilt of Edelbrecht, expression noble and unreadable.
Velis yawned into her sleeve.
And I stood there, wearing last week's cloak, a magic suppressor ring that probably still thought I was a minor cataclysm, and the looming certainty that something bureaucratic was about to ruin my day.
I was right.
"State your name," said the guard at the checkpoint.
"Kaname Hitoshi."
Pause.
"Oh. *You're* the anomaly."
He flipped through a glowing ledger. It flashed once, then scrolled to a page titled:
> HITOSHI, KANAME (THE ANOMALOUS ENTITY):
>
> * Status: magically unstable
> * Role: hero-adjacent
> * Restrictions: do not let him near containment glyphs or reality stabilizers
I sighed.
The guard slapped a glowing sigil-pass onto my wrist and muttered something about "contingency classification 7-B."
Velis got a scholar's permit, which came with a scroll that insulted anyone who read it without her permission.
Iria received... applause.
Of course she did.
---
We entered the capital and were immediately swallowed by the noise—merchant stalls yelling about enchanted kitchenware, nobles riding self-steering carriages, bardic buskers whose instruments floated behind them while they posed dramatically for tips.
Every inch of Aurevalis felt curated. Not a city so much as a stage play pretending to be a city.
And us? We were summoned here to report on "heroic progress." Which meant there'd be meetings. Panels. Committees.
I already missed the pie contest.
We were directed to the Hero's Reception Wing of the palace—an unnecessarily gold building attached to an even more unnecessary courtyard where someone had enchanted the grass to hum faintly in chorus.
Inside, we were greeted by an overworked scribe who asked us to sit while they "finalized hero briefings."
This turned out to mean "wait in a room full of very uncomfortable chairs next to people you don't want to see."
Because they were there.
The Other Two.
Hero Number One: Ren Arashi
Surrounded by a cluster of attractive attendants, all vying for his attention while he sipped from a crystal chalice and nodded solemnly like he was receiving divine secrets from his grape juice.
He saw us and waved. "Ah! Brother Kaname! Have you finally unlocked your second awakening?"
"Still working on basic locomotion," I said.
Hero Number Two: Kuroblade Nightshade
Wearing a half-cloak, half-scarf abomination, sitting atop the back of a chair like a crow. He hadn't blinked since we entered.
"I have felt the ripple of your soul's resonance," he said. "It sings in broken chords."
"That's just heartburn," I replied.
Velis ignored them both. Iria gave them the knight's version of a nod: a short, crisp glance followed by silence.
---
A royal assistant eventually escorted us into a long hall filled with aging nobles, council mages, and one guy asleep behind a curtain of hair.
A tall man in fine robes stood at the head of the table.
"Lord Chancellor Derys," the assistant announced. "Here to oversee hero deployment planning."
Derys looked like a man whose favorite meal was protocol and whose soul had been legally notarized.
He adjusted a scroll and spoke.
"Heroes, your performance has been noted. The Demon Lord's activity is escalating. We believe enemy forces are attempting to sabotage internal defenses."
"Define 'sabotage,'" I said.
"There have been... incidents. Magical supply diversions. Missing ritual stockpiles. And an unusual amount of correspondence from certain noble houses to distant provinces."
Velis blinked. "You're being infiltrated."
"We are," Derys said carefully, "investigating all possibilities."
"Right," I muttered. "Because noblemen are famously unbiased when investigating themselves."
He ignored me.
---
Later that day, we were finally given lodging in the guest barracks—spacious, clean, and completely bugged with magic scrying runes.
Velis disabled three within the first hour.
"This isn't a watchful eye—it's a smokescreen."
Iria agreed. "If the enemy hides behind banners, then we must read the banners anew."
That night, I left the inn to get air.
I didn't expect to witness a robbery.
---
A man bumped into a passing merchant in the shadows of a closed bazaar.
One hand disappeared beneath the man's cloak.
A purse vanished.
And so did the thief.
Except—not quite.
Because Iria, who had followed me "to ensure my safety," tackled the figure into a stack of crates.
There was a crash. A muffled curse.
Seconds later, she hauled a cloaked man out of the mess, holding him by the collar like a damp cat.
"Explain your actions," she demanded.
"Dramatic coincidence," he said. "I tripped into opportunity."
Velis appeared silently at my side, arms crossed.
"I recognize you," she said. "You were in Veridale."
The man blinked. "Never heard of it."
"You dropped a coin at the festival. Demon-forged alloy. Wrong continent. I saw you vanish into the crowd."
He smirked. "Sounds like I have a twin."
"Who matched your height, gait, and charm-averse swagger?" she said, dry as sand.
He paused.
Then grinned, lopsided and shameless. "Alright. So maybe I noticed you. Hard not to, really. Knight, scholar, anomaly. You're like a walking calamity buffet. I got curious."
"You were following us," Iria said.
"I prefer 'investigating with flair.'"
I folded my arms. "You trying to rob us too?"
"Not this time."
"We're taking you to the guard."
"Sure," he said, already walking with us. "Just don't take the west checkpoint. The officer there hates my face."
He strolled ahead, utterly unbothered.
Velis and I shared a glance.
This was going to be a problem.