They didn't blindfold me or tie me up. But they also didn't talk much.
The knights brought me to a stone fortress tucked at the edge of the forest. Not too big—just enough to house a garrison. The walls were mossy. The air smelled like old wood and metal.
They gave me a room. Stone walls, one bed, one small window. A tray of food was left on the table—some kind of stew and a slice of coarse bread.
No locks on the door.
Which somehow felt worse than if there were.
I sat on the bed for a while, staring at the wooden bowl. I didn't touch it. Not because I thought it was poisoned. I was just… tired. Tired in that deep, hollow way you can't fix with sleep.
Voices murmured beyond the door. Muffled. A lot of them. I pressed my ear against the wood, but I couldn't make anything out.
Nothing but low mumbling. Too many people talking over each other.
Hours passed.
They came in one at a time. Knights. Men in robes. Some old, some young. They asked strange questions. Some normal. Some that made no sense at all.
"What king do you serve?"
"Have you ever come into contact with cursed relics?"
"Did you use any methods to kill the serpent?"
I just answered as honestly as I could, which mostly meant saying "I don't know" a lot.
They tried to take a drop of blood but the needle bent. Made me hold glowing stones. Held scrolls near my head and watched the way the paper wrinkled.
It went on through the night. I didn't sleep.
By the time the sun bled through the window, I felt like a peeled fruit—raw and open.
The door creaked open.
She stepped in, the princess, dressed in a dark cloak now, with her hair tied back. No guards behind her.
"Good morning," she said, calm as ever.
"Morning," I croaked. My voice sounded like it had gravel in it.
"I hope they weren't too rough with you."
I gave her a look.
She smiled faintly. "Fair. I'll make this simple, Ark." She said my name carefully, like she was still testing the taste of it. "I'm returning to the capital today. And you're coming with me."
I blinked. "I am?"
She nodded. "You're an anomaly. No one can agree on what you are. But you saved one of my people. And I'm curious."
She stepped closer, folding her arms.
"And when a Virellian is curious, we investigate thoroughly."
I had no idea what that meant, but I was too tired to argue.
She turned, heading back toward the door. "Rest. We leave at noon."
Then, just before she left, she paused.
"And Ark?" she said without turning.
"Yeah?"
"You're not a prisoner. But don't run. If you do… a certain woman will find you first."
She left the door open behind her.
They gave me a cloak. It was too big. It dragged at the sleeves and smelled faintly of incense and leather.
We left around noon, just like she said.
The princess rode at the front, surrounded by her guards. I was near the middle, on foot. They didn't offer me a horse, but I didn't mind. After everything I'd survived, walking felt… comforting. Normal.
Trees lined the path, tall and clean and green. The sky was blue—really blue. Like the kind you see in postcards but never in real life. It still didn't feel real. Too soft. Too calm.
No red. No twisted shadows. No monsters waiting behind every rock.
The girl I saved—turns out she was a servant—rode in one of the rear wagons. She hadn't spoken to me again. Just stared sometimes, like she couldn't figure out what kind of thing I was.
I didn't blame her.
The knights stayed quiet. Their eyes always flicked back to me, like they were expecting me to snap and tear someone in half.
Honestly, I didn't even blame them either.
I kept my hood up and my eyes forward.
Hours passed.
The forest gave way to hills. Hills gave way to fields. Every once in a while, we passed farmers or hunters who bowed their heads when they saw the princess's crest. Some kids stared wide-eyed at our convoy. None of them looked afraid of me, which felt… strange.
Back home, I used to imagine what it would be like to live in a fantasy world.
Turns out it's mostly dirt, armor chafing, and horses that don't like you.
Sometime near dusk, we made camp in a wide clearing. Tents went up fast. Fires flickered. Food was passed around.
The princess didn't speak to me again. But I saw her watching, from across the campfire.
I sat with my bowl of stew, legs folded, cloak wrapped tight. I didn't talk. Didn't eat much either.
Just listened.
Laughter. Cracking firewood. Stories shared in quiet voices.
It was the first time in months I'd heard people laugh and not think they were losing their minds.
And for a second, just one, I almost felt like a person again.
Ahh, got it. So the girl mistook Ark for a type of monster that's more mythic or creepy—like twisted creatures in urban legends—humanoid but unsettling, and rumored to appear where divine protection is absent.
Here's a revised version of the scene to match that:
---
I was sitting under the shade of a crooked tree near the edge of the log at the campfire, watching the stars like they were something foreign. A breeze passed, and for once, it didn't stink of blood or rusted air.
The stars... they shine so bright. Maybe because this world have no light pollution at all?
Where is this place? It is definitely not the earth I know.
Soft footsteps approached.
I didn't turn. Not until she cleared her throat.
"Um… excuse me," she said.
I glanced over my shoulder.
It was the girl I'd saved from the serpent. She looked more composed now, her dress cleaned, a satchel over her shoulder. But her eyes were hesitant.
"I… I came to apologize."
I didn't say anything.
She stepped closer, wringing her hands. "Back in the forest—I called you a monster. I thought you were… one of them."
My brow twitched.
"There are rumors," she continued. "Of things that show up where there are no holy wards or churches. Places left… unblessed. People call them whispering demons. Tall, twisted, wrong. They don't bleed. They don't speak. They just kill. And you—when I first saw you, I thought—"
Her voice faltered.
Wait..... aren't these the monsters I had always fought?
I looked at my arms. Bare. Scarred. Covered in faint traces of dried black ichor that never seemed to wash off.
She wasn't wrong to be afraid.
I probably looked like something dug up from a nightmare.
"I was wrong," she said, quickly. "You saved me. And… thank you. Truly."
I stared at her a moment, then gave a short nod. "You're welcome."
She offered a small smile, more awkward than warm. "I'm mina. I serve Princess Lana."
"Ark," I said. "Just a student. Kind of."
She looked like she wanted to ask more but didn't. Instead, she just bowed her head lightly.
Then she added, almost embarrassed, "You still look… a little terrifying."
I huffed a breath. Might've been a laugh. "I've been told."
She turned to leave, pausing only once. "Still… I hope they realize you're not what you look like."
As she walked away, I stared after her, the words echoing in my mind.
Not what I look like?
Maybe I am changing into something too.
Lost in thought, when I noticed someone moving quietly through the tents. My grip tightened on my spear. Not again.
She stepped into the flickering light, a slight smile playing on her lips. It was the princess.
"You almost scared me," I muttered, raising an eyebrow.
She laughed softly, unbothered by my suspicion. "I just wanted to get away from the guards for a bit. Needed some air."
I watched her carefully, waiting for her to say something else.
Finally, she sighed and gave a small bow, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Since we're here, I suppose I should properly introduce myself. I'm Princess Lana Virellian, the third princess of the Kingdom of Elaria."
The title hit me harder than I expected. Somehow, it made this strange place feel even more real.
I nodded slowly, trying to match her calm. "I'm Ark."
She smiled warmly. "Glad to see you're still holding onto that stick of yours. You and that stick seem inseparable."
I gave a small shrug, the weight of it oddly comforting. "It's kept me alive so far."
"That stick? Really?"
"Yeah"
Lana raised an eyebrow. "You must be from far away. Your way of speaking… and the lack of manners — it's surprising you're even standing here before a princess."
I paused, then said flatly, "Apologies. I didn't intend to offend."
She smiled, amused. "It's just... unusual. You don't sound like anyone from around here."
Inside, I realized something strange — we spoke the same language. Different world, same words. If not, I'd probably be doomed right now.
But I kept that thought to myself and nodded silently.
Lana looked at me, eyes sharp.
"So, what core do you have? After killing that serpent with just a punch, you must be strong."
I blinked. "Core?"
She gave me a confused look, like I said something dumb.
"Don't tell me you don't even know your core. Everyone knows their core. It's basic—like breathing around here."
I shrugged, trying to sound casual.
"Never really paid attention to that stuff."
Lana raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised.
"That's... honestly pretty rare"
Gotcha! Here's a more natural way Lana would explain the core rankings without naming it a "power system" and keeping it casual like she's talking to a longtime friend:
---
Lana blinked, surprised.
"You don't even know your core level? Everyone around here knows theirs. It's common sense."
She leaned back, then began listing off the ranks.
"Clear core means your energy's still sleeping—basically nothing. Gray core is barely there, weak and barely noticeable. Crimson core—that's where your power really starts to wake up, but it's wild and unstable."
"Amber core means you're starting to get control, getting stronger but still growing. Emerald core is where most skilled fighters are—steady and sharp."
"Azure core is high-level, where your energy flows smooth and strong. Violet core is rare, tapping into deeper power."
"Silver core is almost legendary—your power can actually affect the world around you. Gold core is the top for mortals—heroes, kings, the strongest."
"And then white core… that's on another level. Almost deity, but still human."
She gave me a look.
"Not knowing yours? You're flying blind here."
Lana shrugged like it was obvious.
"Oh, and there's two kinds of core users—enhancers and mages."
"Enhancers use their energy to boost their bodies—strength, speed, endurance. Basically, they turn their own body into a weapon."
"Mages, on the other hand, use their cores to cast magic—fireballs, shields, all that flashy stuff."
She gave me a sideways glance.
"Most people pick one or the other, but some rare folks can do both."
Then she yawned with no care in the world at all.
"I guess I am sleepy now,I was just out for fresh air but thank you for the chitchat"
The night passed quietly.
No monsters. No screaming. Just the steady crackle of a campfire and the soft murmurs of guards on watch.
By morning, we were moving again.
The convoy stirred with the first light of dawn. Servants packed tents with practiced hands, knights mounted their horses, and the royal carriage waited at the center, still draped in the blue and silver colors of Elaria.
I sat near the back, awkwardly perched on a supply wagon. No one had offered me a horse—and honestly, I didn't expect one.
The princess, of course, remained inside her carriage. I didn't see her, but I felt the occasional weight of her gaze through the small curtained window. Watching. Studying. Like I was still a puzzle they hadn't figured out yet.
We traveled for hours. The landscape gradually shifted—twisted trees gave way to farmland, rough dirt became cobbled road.
And then… I saw it.
The capital.
White stone walls shimmered in the sunlight, tall and proud. Banners fluttered in the breeze, and towers reached high into the sky, their golden tips gleaming like the sun itself.
Even from here, the city pulsed with life.
People lined up at the gates, carts filled with goods, merchants shouting, children running barefoot.
But when the guards spotted the royal insignia, everything stopped.
The gates parted without hesitation.
The convoy rolled in, slow and grand, like a procession of power. I followed in silence, suddenly aware of the dirt clinging to my skin and the ragged state of my clothes.
It was loud inside the walls. Voices, hooves, bells, footsteps. Too much, too fast. My fingers curled tighter around the shaft of my stick—my so-called "spear."
I was back in civilization.
And yet… I'd never felt farther from it.