The carriage came to a halt on the cobblestone drive of the Astrea estate.
A pair of unfamiliar figures had learly been waiting for them at the front steps. The blonde-haired woman stood perfectly still in her armor, arms at her sides, green eyes serious.
The purple-haired man stood firm and tall, both hands clasped behind his back.
They both looked like interesting characters, to say the least.
Gojo felt Reinhard's gaze on him.
"Satoru, these are Carol Remendis and Sir Grimm Fauzen." Reinhard said quietly with a nod, gesturing to the pair.
Gojo met Carol's eyes and grinned. "Yo. I'm Satoru Gojo. No need for all the pomp." He held up a hand in a relaxed wave. "Just call me Satoru."
Carol's lips twitched before she nodded once, curtly.
Grimm stepped forward then, one booted foot at a time. He offered Satoru a polite nod.
Gojo noticed a pale, old scar across Grimm's throat and raised a brow, although he opted not to speak of it, he was definitely interested on the story behind it.
"...Hello." he managed. Though that single word seemed to scrape itself out.
Grimm winced, reached behind his back, and drew out a small leather notebook and a stub of pencil. With a few quick strokes, he scribbled words in precise, bold lettering and turned the notebook so Gojo could read:
Welcome to House Astrea. I apologize. Speaking is… difficult.
Gojo read the note and smiled. "No worries, man. I speak fluent scribble, after all!"
He offered his hand which Grimm clasped firmly in response.
Carol cleared her throat. "Your quarters are prepared, Satoru-sama."
Gojo waved off the honorific with a laugh. "No sama here, all right? I'm just Satoru." He let go of Grimm's hand and stepped toward Carol. The former of which returned to the woman's side and flipped to a fresh page of his notebook.
Carol led them inside. Her eyes stayed on Satoru's face, missing nothing. Satoru followed, taking in the grand hall. Shields and banners lined the walls. The air smelled of polished wood and history that Gojo was just waiting to figure out.
Grimm trailed one step behind, scribbling another note as Gojo leaned in and read over Grimm's shoulder:
This way, please, Lord Candidate.
"Heh, Lord Candidate, huh?" Gojo chuckled softly. "Yeah, I'll get used to it. Thanks, Grimm."
He grinned and gave Grimm's shoulder a friendly pat.
Grimm's lips curved in a small, proud smile.
As they walked deeper into the manor, Gojo kept glancing at Carol and Grimm through his Six Eyes.
These two have seen things, I can tell, even just by the way they walk.
Soon they reached a side chamber. On the table lay a silver tray with fresh tea and fruit.
Carol indicated a chair. "Please, rest while the servants fetch your belongings. Reinhard, stay close."
Satoru dropped into the chair and waved a hand. "Perfect. Seriously, you guys didn't have to roll out the red carpet and tea for me."
A moment later, though, he realized he actually was hungry.
"So… when do I get to meet the other candidates? And can I raid the kitchen first?"
Carol simply folded her hands and waited. Grimm flipped another page:
Dinner will be served soon. I will escort you to your room later.
Gojo raised an eyebrow at the second note and laughed quietly.
"Escort me, huh? I guess I should be on my best behavior."
He settled back, easing the tension in his shoulders.
He thought about everything Reinhard had told him in the carriage. A throne. Royal duties. It all seemed absurd. But standing here, seeing Carol's unwavering gaze and Grimm's measured calm, he felt a strange weight of responsibility.
Well, if I'm going to play king for a while, I might as well have fun with it.
A mischievous grin spread across his face.
From the corner of his eye, Carol gave him a hard look.
Gojo held up his hands in a mock salute. "Don't worry, I'll behave—ish."
Grimm's mouth twitched in amusement, and Carol's shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.
Within these grand walls, Satoru Gojo had arrived.
The Astrea estate already felt like home in one way: it was a place filled with disciplined warriors.
So for now, Gojo knew one thing:
He could handle discipline. Because he was Satoru Gojo.
—————————————
Satoru's foot slammed into the grassy field, the earth spraying as he pivoted his weight. He felt the air pressure shift——a dark-gloved fist carved a path through the space where his cheek had been a millisecond prior.
"——Urk!?"
This guy is even stronger than I thought...!
Reinhard didn't reset as Gojo had expected; instead, he surged forward, his leg slicing through the wind in a wide, diagonal arc.
In response, Satoru vaulted upward, his body coiling midair like a high-tension spring.
Using the momentum, he twisted, bringing his heel crashing down toward Reinhard's shoulder with enough force to splinter a building.
But——
A hand snapped up, intercepting the strike with the casual grace of someone catching a falling leaf.
Reinhard's fingers clamped around Satoru's shin like a steel trap. Then, with effortless strength that defied the laws of physics, the Sword Saint hurled him through the air at neck-breaking speed.
I'm starting to wonder if I'm the one with Infinity or if he is... I can't even touch him, even if we are restraining ourselves.
Satoru twisted mid-flight, slamming both feet into the ground. Earth exploded beneath his soles as he skidded back, carving two ragged, smoking trails through the pristine garden of the Astrea estate.
Then, the Sword Saint moved in an instant once again.
"———!"
Satoru's Six Eyes flared. A shadow overtook his face——Reinhard's fist was already inches from landing, a blur of motion that even Satoru's brain was struggling to track.
Then, it stopped.
A fraction from contact, the fist trembled against an unseen force. Infinity manifested like a pane of invisible, absolute diamond, saving Satoru from a very public embarrassment.
The air between the fist and Satoru's nose rippled, the space being folded infinitely.
After a long, shaky breath, Satoru exhaled.
"That's... my loss yet again."
Reinhard straightened immediately, dropping into a relaxed stance, his smile easy and devoid of any ego.
"You're incredibly skilled, Satoru. Truly. I'm sure I would be at a loss if not for my Divine Protection of Initiative, and the Divine Protection of First Attack Immunity, and Second Attack Immunity, and also Precognition, and——"
Yeah, yeah... I get it. It's bliding, dude... like literally——
"...And also the——"
Satoru stepped forward, cutting him off with a wave of his hand.
"I know, Reinhard. You tell me after every spar. You don't have to sugarcoat it." He reached up, pushing his sunglasses back into place. "Besides, listing your 'cheats' is basically just bragging at this point, isn't it?"
Reinhard blinked, looking genuinely mortified.
"Bragging? Volcanica, forbid! I was only trying to provide an objective analysis of why your technique didn't connect. Your speed is actually superior to almost every person I've ever faced."
"Yeah, yeah. Flattery will get you everywhere, you humble king."
Satoru glanced to the side, his white hair messy from the exertion.
His eyes landed upon Carol who had been watching, her eyes having been widened almost imperceptibly the entire time.
"I'll say, I've rarely had to see Reinhard fight like that against an opponent for quite a while." The blonde-haired woman admitted.
Gojo scrathed the back of his head. "Heh, well, honestly... I've been needing to fight someone like this for a while anyway."
What he didn't say... what he couldn't bring himself to admit out loud——was that being overpowered like this? It was exhilarating.
Back home, he was the ceiling. He was the Strongest. There was no one left to look up to, no one to push him to the brink.
Not even Suguru could make him feel this specific brand of I might actually die because he always had the Infinity to rely on.
It's amazing. It's thrilling.
"Satoru?"
Reinhard raised an eyebrow, snapping him out of his inner monologue.
"You have a very... intense look on your face. Are you sure you aren't injured? My fist did come quite close."
"Who, me? Nah."
Satoru waved him off, his confidence returning in a flood.
"I was just thinking that if I had actually landed that last kick, you'd be apologizing to your gardener for the new crater in the lawn."
Reinhard chuckled, a warm, melodic sound.
"I don't doubt it. Perhaps next time, I'll have to ask for the Divine Protection of Landscape Maintenance."
"See? Now you're getting it!"
Satoru laughed, clapping Reinhard on the shoulder.
"That's the spirit. Though, if you get any more of those 'protections,' I'm gonna start filing a complaint with that dragon of yours. It's bad for my ego."
"Ah——ahem, yeah. Let's call it here." Satoru dusted off his peculiar uniform, trying to reclaim his casual 'I don't care' vibe.
"Thankfully, I'd say it is about time to continue your lessons." Carol chimed in.
Gojo slouched forward with a dramatic sigh. "Yes... as Carol there said, I've still got to catch up on this world's history and all that, so... later."
He turned and began to saunter back toward the mansion with Carol behind him, hands shoved deep into his pockets.
He didn't look back, but he could feel Reinhard's respectful gaze lingering on his shoulders.
Ugh. Nothing kills a post-battle high like diving into dusty books... but hey, duty calls. If I'm gonna be a king, I at least need to know which elders' buttons I'm pushing.
—————————————
Satoru sat with one leg casually crossed over the other, a thick book resting in his hand. Around him, towering shelves stretched endlessly in every direction.
The library loomed above, cavernous and quiet, its sheer scale swallowing even the sound of turning pages despite the fact it was deathly silent.
"Hmm..." Satoru hummed, clicking his tongue. His index finger tapped rhythmically against the open page as he mulled over its contents.
I've probably crammed enough knowledge to pass for a functioning local in this world… which means—It's time to hunt.
For what, exactly? For recruits. For the 'Gojo Camp'!
He closed the book with a soft thud, placing it neatly on the desk before rising to his feet.
Without hesitation, he strode out of the library, his footsteps echoing through the cavernous silence.
As Reinhard told him, there weren't that many servants really. Though, they were all respectful as he walked by, each greeting him with silent reverence.
They shouldn't know I've been chosen for the Royal Selection yet... Then again, this feels like Reinhard's doing. He probably just told them to treat me like they would him or something.
He tapped the stem of his sunglasses, adjusting them with a tilt before his gaze sharpened——focus snapping back into place.
"I'm not looking for quantity..." he muttered to himself. "Even one person is enough——so long as they're the best of the best."
The one I'm most curious about is probably with that Emilia girl's camp... Subaru, was it?
Satoru's lips quirked into a dry smile.
The way he was acting around her before——it's obvious where his loyalties lie. My chances of pulling him over? Pretty much zero, I'd imagine.
A shame, really... I wanted to see that bundle of cursed energy he's carrying actually put to use.
"Still gonna teach him, though," he whispered to the empty hallway.
He smirked to himself at the thought, hands slipping into his pockets as he continued down the hall.
He could feel the eyes of the staff on him—wary, curious, and a bit intimidated. He didn't blame them.
Even suppressed, the Six Eyes made him feel like a predator walking through a sheep pen.
"Satoru?"
Reinhard appeared at the end of the corridor, looking like he'd just finished an afternoon of being perfect.
"You've finished your studies already? It's only been three hours. Most scholars take weeks to digest those texts."
"Well I'm a helluva fast reader," Satoru said, his grin widening. "Besides, I'm bored of theory. I want to see the capital properly. And maybe visit a certain mansion tucked away in the Mathers territory."
Reinhard's expression softened into a knowing look.
"Ah. You wish to check on Subaru and Emilia-sama?"
"Something like that."
Satoru said, skipping a few steps forward with a youthful energy that felt out of place in the stiff mansion.
"Actually, I'm thinking of doing a little 'guest lecturing.' You think that Margrave will mind if I drop in unannounced?"
Reinhard chuckled.
"Roswaal L. Mathers is... an eccentric man. I suspect he would be more fascinated by you than offended. Shall I prepare a dragon carriage?"
"Mmm… sure, why not? I'm not exactly in a hurry after all."
Satoru said, stretching his arms behind his head.
Satoru was about to take his first step toward his room when two figures rounded the corner, pushing a silver tea cart with synchronized precision. They stopped abruptly upon seeing the Sword Saint and his eccentric guest blocking the path.
They were maids—twins, to be exact.
Satoru paused, his head tilting to the side. Behind his glasses, the Six Eyes scanned them instantly, reading their flow of mana and the subtle physical tension in their muscles.
Definitely stronger than they look, heheh~ Is this world just full of freaks? If so, that's damn near perfect for me.
He didn't just see their strength; with a little bit more effort, he saw something even more amusing.
The Divine Protection of Mind Speak, huh?
Something like that made his smile widen.
"Well, well," Satoru drawled, leaning forward with his hands on his hips. "Does everyone in this kingdom come in matching sets, or are you two special~?"
The two maids bowed in perfect unison, the crisp rustle of their skirts the only sound in the hallway. They both had the same expressions but had slight differences that could just about allow Gojo to tell the difference between them.
They both bowed in unison, and then their eyes shifted to Satoru.
They seemed to be eyeing his modern attire and the way he loomed over Reinhard with a mixture of suspicion and protective duty. She clearly wasn't used to anyone treating the Sword Saint with such casual disregard.
Reinhard gestured to them warmly.
"Satoru, allow me to introduce the head maids of the Astrea household. This is Flamme, and this is Grassis. They ensure this house doesn't fall apart while I am away."
He hummed in thought; he could appreciate a hard worker, at least.
Calmly, he stepped a tad closer.
The twins flinched instinctively. It wasn't fear, but the sheer pressure of his presence. Even with his energy suppressed, standing next to him was like standing next to a dormant volcano; you just knew that if it blew, everything for miles would be gone.
"I'm Satoru Gojo. Nice to meet ya." He bent down slightly, bringing his face level with Flamme's. "You've got a scary look in your eyes for a little brat. Kinda creepy..."
Flamme's brows furrowed before she glanced down at his outfit in a way that Gojo couldn't help but find mocking.
"It's called fashion, brat! You guys are a bit behind the times here!"
Satoru teased, straightening up. He looked between the two of them.
"Well, since I'm heading out on a little field trip soon, you wouldn't happen to have any snacks on that cart, would you? Brain work makes me hungry."
Grassis looked panicked, her eyes darting to the delicate pastries arranged on the silver platter.
"Please, help yourself, Satoru."
Reinhard interjected with a smile.
Before Grassis could even reach for a plate, Satoru had already swiped a tart with a hand that moved like a blur. He popped the whole thing into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
"Mmm. Not bad~" he mumbled around a mouthful of crust.
He swallowed and pointed an accusatory finger at Flamme. "A little dry, though. You should tell the chef to use more butter in the crust next time."
Flamme's eye twitched.
Satoru dusted crumbs off his hands onto the pristine floor, much to Flamme's visible horror before he glanced toward Reinhard and smirked.
"Alright, I'm off to do some thinking. See ya!"
He walked past the twins, but as he passed Grassis, he just rolled his eyes.
"And tell your sister to relax. Frowning gives you wrinkles... lighten up!"
He didn't wait for a reaction. With a casual wave over his shoulder, Satoru pushed open the heavy doors and stepped out into the sunlight of the courtyard.
Behind him, silence reigned in the hallway for a long moment.
Reinhard watched the closing doors, his expression thoughtful and a little bit sad.
"Hmm. Satoru is powerful, certainly... but he's also very lonely. I hope you don't judge him too harshly."
——————————————
Before long, he stepped into his personal quarters within the Astrea Estate—a space so cavernous it was easily one of the largest rooms in the entire manor.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the room seemed to shimmer in greeting, sunlight dancing across polished mahogany floors and ornate furnishings that screamed old money.
"I've walked in here a dozen times already," he muttered, a playful half-smile tugging at his lips, "and it's still impressive. Never saw anything this grand back home, not even in the Gojo Clan."
He dropped into the plush desk chair with a satisfied sigh, unceremoniously kicking his feet up onto the polished surface like he owned the place——which, at this point, wasn't far from the truth.
He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
Now for the hard part...finding recruits. Besides the folks already here, and maybe a few I can count on one hand, I don't know anyone impressive enough to make the cut. I need people who won't just stand around looking pretty.
His head tilted lazily from side to side, a knuckle pressed to his chin as he let out a thoughtful hum.
...Mmm. Scratch that. I actually do know someone. That orange-haired thief girl from the slums——Felt. She was a brat, sure, but she'd be a perfect fit for the Gojo Camp. Satoru hadn't seen her fight, but the Six Eyes didn't lie; she possessed a Divine Protection. In this world, that alone put her in rare company.
Other than that maid pair and Reinhard——who for some reason was hoarding hundreds of the damn things... he hadn't seen anyone else with even one.
"My intellect honestly scares even me sometimes..." he smirked, his ego inflating in the quiet of the room. "Now then—unless she got herself thrown in a cell for stealing she should still be in the slums."
Satoru pushed up from the chair with an almost cat-like stretch, drifting toward the tall glass window. Outside, the sun hovered just above the horizon, casting long, golden rays across the sprawling Lugunican landscape.
It was a picture of absolute calm before whatever storm tomorrow decided to bring.
"I'll head there tomorrow," he murmured, watching the light fade into a deep violet. "Reinhard'll probably tag along anyway... whether I ask him to or not. He's got that 'loyal dog' vibe down to a tee."
His smirk faded slightly as a sharper thought crossed his mind.
Elsa Granhiert.
She struck him as the type to hold a grudge. And getting your ass handed to you by a teenager in sunglasses? Yeah, that was usually grounds for a vendetta. Still, he doubted she'd return anytime soon——especially not alone.
Not after the taste he'd given her of his power.
He clicked his tongue softly, his gaze sharpening behind his dark lenses.
"Guess I should keep my guard up, just in case..." he muttered to the darkening room.
A sense of absolute, unshakable confidence settled over him.
Without the messy variables of Cursed Techniques or Domain Expansions to worry about, the playing field felt tilted entirely in his favor.
"In both worlds... I'm untouchable."
——————————————
The carriage jolted over a particularly deep rut in the road, but inside the cabin, Satoru didn't so much as wobble. He remained perfectly centered, suspended in the effortless grace of a teenager who knew the laws of physics were more like suggestions when it came to him.
Yeah. I changed my mind. What are you gonna do about it? That whole recruitment mission can wait just a bit longer.
Gojo blinked, realizing he might be going insane.
"Well, other than talking to people that don't exist... it's procrastination time! Instead... I'm more interested in that Subaru guy——the one from my world."
It still felt strange. Two people from Japan, isekai'd into the same fantasy world? He didn't know when Subaru had arrived or how, but the coincidence was too big to ignore. It was like finding a specific grain of sand in a desert and then finding another grain from the same beach right next to it.
That was a trash analogy.
"Regardless... that bundle of Cursed Energy he's sitting on is just rotting."
He narrowed his eyes, a glint of genuine mischief flashing in the blue depths behind his shades.
"And I Satoru Gojo, humble as ever, refuse to let that kind of potential go to waste!"
With a smirk, he crossed one leg over the other and rested his chin on his knuckles.
"So, I'll be teaching him. No magic. None of that mana nonsense. Just the real stuff."
His tone dipped slightly, becoming more analytical.
Through the Six Eyes, he had peeled back the layers of Natsuki Subaru like an onion.
The guy was strange——physically... he wasn't actually terrible, above average, mentally frantic——but that darkness... that shadow energy clinging to his soul was unmistakable.
"He doesn't have a Cursed Technique. If he did, it'd be second nature by now——like breathing. I would've seen it the moment I arrived..."
He paused, a rare moment of silence stretching as the scenery of the Lugunican countryside blurred past the window.
"...These eyes don't lie, after all."
If there was no technique, then there was only one path for the tracksuit-wearing guy: Cursed Energy Manipulation.
Basic reinforcement. Turning that stagnant pool of darkness into a weapon.
Satoru shrugged, leaning back with a beady grin before bursting into a low, almost villainous laugh that seemed to vibrate the very glass of the carriage windows.
Outside the cabin, the carriage driver stiffened, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the reins. He didn't dare look back, his eyes wide with terror as the muffled, manic laughter of the Fifth Royal Candidate echoed from the interior.
I'm going to be such an incredible teacher. He's going to hate me. It's going to be great!