After thirty minutes of preparation, Ashborne was informed that the Third Princess was currently near the border of the Kingdom of Cialefur, residing in a trade city called Leiorna.
To minimize travel time, he planned to walk to the train station and take a transit line connected to a teleportation hub. With the jumps accounted for, it would take no more than half an hour to reach the city.
At the gates of the Vaelric mansion, Ashborne adjusted his coat and turned back to his mother.
"I'll be off then, Mother."
Maelira studied him for a long moment. "Are you sure you don't want soldiers to accompany you?"
He smiled lightly. "It'll be fine. The princess has her own army to protect her. I'm just there for decoration."
She sighed, stepped closer, and fixed the crest of House Vaelric on his blazer with careful hands.
"Be safe, my son."
Ashborne mounted his horse, gave a small wave, and rode off as the iron gates closed behind him.
As he rode through the city roads, his thoughts drifted—unbidden—back to the Concord.
The trial still lingered in his mind like a shadow he couldn't shake. Before that day, he had known them only through his mother's words and scattered reports. A power whose influence rivaled even the Duskbound Imperium and the Holy Church—yet belonging to neither light nor darkness.
To some, the Concord were monsters.To others, saviors.
I can't really blame Mother for being tied to them, he thought. She was part of the Concord once… before Father pulled her away.
Only later did he learn that the High Measure herself had saved Maelira's life.
How—and from what—remained unanswered.
Reaching a town along the route, Ashborne left his horse at a stable and continued on foot.
The streets were alive.
A couple stood in the middle of the road, voices raised.
"Did you really sleep with her?" the girl shouted.
"N-no! You're misunderstanding—!" the boy stammered, reaching for her as she turned away.
A small crowd began to gather, murmurs spreading like ripples. Ashborne passed by, letting out an awkward laugh.
A little farther down the road, he passed a small church. Its doors were open. Inside, people wept quietly. At the center knelt an older man, surrounded by children—his body hunched, hands pressed into the floor as sobs wracked his frame.
A funeral.
Ashborne's smile faded.
He moved on.
Soon, he spotted a group of youths around his age sparring in a dusty clearing. Blunt blades clashed, laughter ringing between strikes. One was disarmed and pinned—but instead of anger, he laughed, helping himself up as the others joked.
Ashborne watched for a moment longer.
Life keeps moving, he thought.
Down another street, he noticed three small children begging near an alley. He reached for his wallet—then paused.
Adults using children again…
Instead, he entered a nearby shop.
"Six loaves of bread," he said, placing the coins down, "and some refreshments."
He returned to the children and knelt.
"Two loaves each," he said gently, handing them out. "And water."
Their eyes lit up.
"Thank you so much, mister!"
Watching them eat, Ashborne felt something warm settle in his chest.
As he stood, his father's voice echoed in his memory.
"People say you can't understand something unless you experience it.Loss. Victory. Love. Despair. They're right."
Ashborne continued walking as the words flowed on.
"Never judge a person by their actions alone.There is always a reason—and sometimes, no choice at all.When life corners you, morality becomes a luxury.Even if someone chooses wrong, that does not give you the right to condemn them."
He exhaled softly.
"Society calls people misfits because they are poor, because they failed, because they are different.But society forgets that it created the very conditions that broke them."
Ashborne smiled faintly.
And then—he walked straight into someone.
The impact sent him stumbling backward. He looked up to see a towering man, thick with muscle, flanked by several others.
"I—sorry!" Ashborne said quickly, extending a hand.
The man stared, stunned that a mere teenager had knocked him down.
"Watch where you're going, kid," the man snarled, slapping Ashborne's hand away.
Ashborne bowed. "I wasn't paying attention. That's my fault."
"Huh? You blind?" the man sneered, striking Ashborne on the head.
Ashborne didn't dodge.
The man grabbed his collar and raised a fist—
"Please don't hurt him!"
One of the children Ashborne had fed clutched the man's trousers. The others shouted too.
Annoyed, the man grabbed the child and threw her aside.
In less than a heartbeat—
Ashborne moved.
From the man's grasp to the falling child—not even a millisecond passed.
To the crowd, it looked like he vanished.
Ashborne caught the child midair, shielding her body with his own.
The girl opened her eyes slowly.
"T-thank you…"
Ashborne smiled and set her down gently.
"I apologized," he said calmly, removing his black blazer, "because I wanted to avoid unnecessary violence."
People gathered.
He tossed a pouch of gold at the thug's feet.
"For your healer," Ashborne said evenly. "After I break your bones."
The man screamed in rage. "Get him!"
They rushed him.
For half a second, Ashborne dismantled nine grown men with his bare hands.
Bones shattered. Bodies fell.
He caught his blazer from the air and slipped it back on.
A whisper spread through the crowd.
"Isn't that… the Vaelric crest?"
"The Duke's son…?"
The leader paled and dropped to his knees.
"Please forgive me! I didn't know—!"
Ashborne turned away.
He knelt before the children.
"Oh—right," he murmured. Father and mother asked about my fifteenth birthday gift…
He smiled.
"I'm building an orphanage," he said softly. "Would you like a place to stay?"
Their eyes filled with tears as they nodded.
"I can't take you myself," he continued, handing them a token. "Go to this place. The carriages there will take you to my family's land. Tell them Ashborne Vaelric sent you."
They bowed repeatedly.
As Ashborne walked away, the crowd blinked—
And he was gone.
Not teleportation.
Just speed beyond their sight.
Ashborne Vaelric continued toward the train station, unaware that this small moment would ripple far beyond this street.