The city gate is already far behind us, and even now I can still hear the people cheering in the distance.

  Man.

  That was even more embarrassing than I’d imagined.

  I rein in my horse, turn around in the saddle, and look Rin straight in the eyes.

  “As the Hero, I must unite all races against the Demon King Balaam and lead them into battle,” I declare.

  “That makes our next destination obvious. We’re heading for the Elven Forest!”

  Rin looks at me the way you look at someone who’s clearly beyond saving.

  Maybe I should have discussed our route with her beforehand. I’ve never been particularly good at planning vacations.

  “The Bluefang Mountains are much closer,” Rin replies, irritation obvious in her voice.

  “We’d only need a few days on horseback. Let’s go to the dwarves first and ask them to join the alliance.”

  Quick. I need arguments. I really don’t want to go to the dwarves. The women there are probably proud of their thick, bushy beards.

  “Elves are more useful when it comes to gaining the trust of the other races,” I counter.

  “Elves are just as stubborn as dwarves,” Rin says flatly.

  “One group hides in forests, the other in mountains. It makes no difference who we visit first.”

  Normally, I don’t lose arguments. With Rin, it’s somehow different.

  Alright. No choice left.

  Time for my last resort.

  A cheap fantasy story argument.

  “I was shown, in a divine vision, that our journey must lead us to the elves first,” I proclaim solemnly.

  “Otherwise, fate itself will not be fulfilled!”

  The vision did exist.

  It just had a lot more to do with my baser desires than with divine revelation.

  Sorry, God.

  If you even exist in this world.

  Rin studies me for a long moment. She still doesn’t look convinced—but eventually, she sighs.

  “…Fine.”

  Yes.

  Praise be to all those hours I spent consuming fantasy stories.

  Prepare yourselves.

  Elves, here we come!

  ***

  This was a really stupid idea.

  We’ve been riding for weeks now, and my ass is killing me.

  At least money isn’t an issue—I made sure to help myself generously from the treasury beforehand. The fate of the world is at stake, after all.

  Even with restful nights at inns, we still spend hour after hour in the saddle.

  I want a car.

  With air conditioning.

  And a radio.

  Complaining won’t help. I just have to endure it.

  Rin has been wearing that smug grin for days now.

  Go ahead, laugh.

  I still have my pride. I only groan quietly when we climb back onto the horses after breaks.

  A friend once told me he wanted to ride his motorcycle to Japan over the course of several weeks. No idea if he ever actually did it. Good thing he can’t hear me now—I’d talk him out of that nonsense immediately.

  “Arik! You don’t look so good. The forest border is only a few days away now. Can you manage?” Rin turns around and looks at me with exaggerated concern.

  “No problem. A little riding is nothing for a Hero.”

  I won’t give you this victory, Rin.

  “Oh, good. I was a bit worried.”

  Shove your fake sympathy somewhere else.

  “Once we reach the forest, it’s still another ten days to the elven village.”

  A monster. Rin is a monster disguised as a sweetly smiling young girl.

  We’re getting closer to our destination. The landscape slowly shifts from green meadows and grain fields to ever-denser forests. Monster attacks increase as well. Annoying little pests like goblins strike more often from ambushes. Truly dangerous creatures, like hunting griffins, are thankfully rare.

  Near towns and villages, some bandits also had the misfortune of crossing our path. That’s no real problem for us—but along the road, we increasingly find looted wagons in ditches and blood trails leading deeper into the forest.

  Merchants and travelers who weren’t strong enough.

  Or couldn’t afford an escort.

  In my old life, I’d been spared sights like these.

  In this world, they’re part of everyday reality.

  What’s worse is how I’m slowly getting used to it.

  ***

  “It’s surprising that a small city like Leguria has its own Adventurers’ Guild branch,” I say, breaking the silence.

  We left the inn early this morning and are now on our way to the guild. We lay awake for a long time last night, discussing how we might improve the safety of travelers.

  The growing number of attacks weighs heavily on us.

  We decided to register as adventurers.

  I don’t want to grow numb.

  We can’t save everyone—but if we can offer escort services along our route, at least one more traveler might reach their destination safely. It doesn’t interfere with our original goal either.

  “The capital is far away, and the army’s protection no longer reaches these rural areas,” Rin replies calmly.

  “People depend on adventurers and mercenaries for protection. Where there’s demand, there’s supply.”

  I know.

  I just wanted to say something.

  I’m so excited I could burst.

  I’m about to become a real adventurer.

  Adventurers are essential in any fantasy world.

  Brutal battles against monsters. Rewards for completed quests. Rough shouting and heavy drinking in the guild hall. Cold nights around campfires in the wilderness.

  A dream come true.

  And most importantly — The sexy receptionists.

  Every story has them. Beautiful women who motivate adventurers simply by existing. Flirting with them is balm for weary souls who risk their lives every day.

  Maybe one of them wouldn’t mind an adventure with me…

  An innocent smile creeps onto my face.

  “You’re thinking something stupid again,” Rin snaps.

  “If you zone out and I have to explain everything again, I swear—pull yourself together! We’re almost there!”

  The guild building is slightly larger than the surrounding shops and easy to find.

  I push open the double doors, mentally preparing myself for shouting, brawls, sweat, alcohol, and testosterone.

  I freeze.

  One look inside tells me everything.

  We’re in the wrong place.

  I turn around—but Rin blocks my way.

  “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you going in?”

  “We’re wrong. This is definitely not the Adventurers’ Guild. Let’s go somewhere else.”

  With an eye roll, Rin grabs my arm and drags me inside.

  We cross the hall and stop in front of counter number three.

  Above it, in large letters: “Registration of New Adventurers and Quest Submission.

  Why didn’t I want to go inside, despite the obvious sign?

  Because the charm of a fantasy world is completely missing.

  No shouting.

  No sweat.

  No alcohol.

  No brawls.

  Nothing.

  Just a few dozen armed people standing quietly in lines in front of dull counters. Some talk softly. Occasionally someone laughs.

  They’re clearly adventurers—everyone is armed, some bear scars—but they’re just standing there. Waiting.

  If I had to compare it to anything, it feels like standing in line at the post office.

  I stare ahead gloomily while we wait. My disappointment must be obvious.

  After a while, Rin breaks the uncomfortable silence.

  “I know I shouldn’t ask, but what’s wrong with you?”

  Tears well up in my eyes.

  “There’s no brawl…”

  “Why did I even ask?” Rin mutters, shaking her head.

  An eternity later—just as it should be in any proper queue—we finally reach the counter. Behind it stands a man in his mid-forties, smiling politely.

  “Welcome to the Adventurers’ Guild, Leguria branch. How may I help you?”

  That’s it. I’m done.

  I stare emptily into space.

  Where is my receptionist?

  Rin notices that I’m currently incapable of speech. She sighs, turns to the counter, and puts on a radiant smile.

  “Thank you very much. We would like to register as adventurers. Could you provide us with the necessary information and forms?”

  “Of course,” the man replies.

  “Please fill out this registration form and return it to me. After that, there will be a test in our inner courtyard where we assess your abilities and assign you a rank.”

  “Ranks determine which quests you are allowed to accept,” he continues.

  “Our quests are sorted by difficulty, and only adventurers with the appropriate rank may accept the more dangerous ones.”

  He pauses briefly before going on.

  “We introduced this system after too many adventurers overestimated themselves. Difficult quests offer higher rewards and therefore great temptation. Since implementing ranks, the mortality rate within the guild has dropped significantly. ”

  He gives us an apologetic smile.

  “Thank you for your understanding.”

  Rin nods, takes the forms, and drags me away with her.

  She parks me in a seating nook and sits down across from me, already filling out her form.

  After a threatening sideways glance, I pick up my pen as well.

  Name. Class. Preferred weapons.

  Just as I finish filling in the last lines of my form, a group of adventurers approaches our table.

  Finally.

  Now they’ll harass Rin in some crude way.

  I’ll step in.

  And then we’ll have a proper fantasy brawl.

  I grin to myself and pretend not to notice them.

  In stories like these, the hero always plays dumb at first—only to put his opponents in their place with effortless superiority later.

  Hopefully, there’s an audience.

  Why else would I even have overpowered abilities?

  “Excuse us,” a voice says politely.

  “May we sit here? All other seats are taken, and we still need to fill out our quest submission form.”

  The group’s leader—a muscular man in his prime with a rapier at his hip—smiles apologetically. The rest of his party follows suit.

  “No problem. We’ll move over a bit,” Rin replies immediately.

  What is wrong with this world?

  ***

  After submitting the forms, a guild employee leads us into the inner courtyard.

  All around us, adventurers are sparring and training. Steel clashes loudly. Shouts echo through the air.

  Finally.

  This feels a little more like a real guild.

  “The practical exams for the different classes take place in separate areas,” the guild employee explains as we follow him across the courtyard.

  “The melee fighter using weapons will proceed to area seventeen. The mage will accompany me to the annex on the other side.”

  “Good luck,” Rin says, smiling at me.

  “Thanks. You too,” I reply, returning the smile.

  I watch them walk off before turning toward my own exam.

  Area seventeen is easy to find. A man is already waiting there.

  He looks like a retired adventurer—still powerfully built, but with streaks of gray in his black hair. There’s a calm authority about him, the kind that only comes from long experience.

  “Arik Eiswolf?” he asks, glancing down at his paperwork.

  “Yes.”

  “Pardon my question,” he says, looking up at me, “but… the Eiswolf family, I presume?”

  “Exactly the Eiswolf family you’re thinking of,” I answer seriously.

  Seeing his reaction, I hastily add, “Please, there’s no need for formalities. I’m here to take the adventurer exam.”

  I’ve always wanted to say something arrogantly cool like that.

  The man freezes mid-bow, then straightens.

  “As you wish. Please follow me.”

  We stop in front of a long table on which a wide variety of weapons are neatly arranged.

  “Please choose one of the weapons provided and step onto the sparring field,” he explains.

  “The exam will be conducted as a training match. Afterwards, I will assign you a rank based on the abilities you display.”

  “Do I have to use my primary weapon, or may I choose freely?” I ask.

  “I recommend the weapon you handle best,” he replies.

  “Since this is only an exam and healers are stationed throughout the courtyard, nothing serious should happen. There is no rule requiring a specific weapon.”

  Perfect.

  So I can choose whatever I want. With my stats and skills, it shouldn’t really matter—but for my image as a Hero, this choice is crucial.

  I let my gaze wander over the weapons before selecting a longsword with an elegant grip and a golden crossguard.

  After a few test swings through the air, I’m more than satisfied and follow the examiner onto the field.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “The exam consists of two phases,” he says calmly.

  “In the first phase, I will attack and test your defense. In the second phase, our roles will switch.”

  He studies me closely.

  “Magic reinforcement is permitted. The weapons are blunt, but injuries are possible. This is a test—not a duel to the death. Please keep that in mind.”

  I nod.

  The very next moment, his axe comes crashing down toward my head.

  He’s fast!

  So much for restraint, he's going to beat me to death with a blunt axe! I dodge with a backward leap and lightning-fast raise my sword.

  My opponent immediately counters, his axe swinging towards me from the left. I brace myself, but at the last moment he changes angle and attacks from below—a feint. I react quickly and block the axe with my sword. The old man relentlessly attacks me.

  At one point, he briefly glows.

  Enhancement magic.

  I’m sweating now.

  My respect for this man grows with every second.

  Just as I’m about to use magic myself, he suddenly leaps back.

  “Very good. That concludes the first phase. Now, please attack.”

  He smiles knowingly.

  “It is easy to overpower someone weaker through raw strength alone. True mastery lies in controlling your power.”

  I take my stance, draw a breath, and try to follow his advice.

  It doesn’t work.

  Technically, he’s far superior. His technique is clean, efficient, elegant. In the end, I have no choice but to rely on brute force.

  I overpower him, knock his weapon away, and stop my sword at his throat.

  He looks at me with a mixture of pride and reproach.

  “The victory is yours,” he says calmly.

  “But strength alone does not make a hero. If you cannot control your power, you may one day harm those you wish to protect.”

  With that, he turns away and heads back toward the edge of the field to fill out paperwork.

  I remain standing there, sword still in my hand.

  I won.

  And yet, I feel like I failed completely.

  Until now, my greatest focus in training had been increasing my stats and raw power.

  It seems I still have a great deal to learn before I can become the kind of hero I want to be.

  A hero worthy of the fantasy world I once dreamed of.

  ***

  I return to the guild hall somewhat dejected and settle into one of the seating nooks to wait for Rin.

  My master-for-half-an-hour didn’t say another word to me. He simply handed me the necessary documents.

  Before leaving, I bowed to him.

  He responded with a knowing smile—and without another word, we went our separate ways.

  I didn’t even ask for his name.

  I’m hopeless.

  But going back now would be far too embarrassing.

  Lost in thought, I stare ahead blankly.

  Before long, Rin storms back into the hall—surrounded by a crowd. Judging by their clothes, most of them seem to be aspiring mages.

  “Please take me as your apprentice!”

  “Join our party!”

  “Marry me!”

  Nobody gets my Rin.

  She ignores them completely and walks straight toward me, her entourage trailing after her.

  The closer she gets, the more of the chatter I can make out.

  “You’re incredible!”

  “I’ve never seen magic like that!”

  “Please, at least consider my proposal!”

  This is giving me a headache.

  Rin stops in front of me as if nothing is happening.

  “Shall we finish the registration? I’m getting hungry.”

  Careful now. Don’t mess this up. I stand up casually and walk beside her toward the counter.

  “Sure. Let’s get lunch afterward,” I suggest.

  She nods.

  Behind us, the murmuring grows louder.

  “Who’s that guy?”

  “What does he want with my queen?”

  “There’s no way the great Rin would associate with someone like him…”

  I keep walking as if I don’t hear any of it. It hurts more than I want to admit. I fight the urge to cry.

  Please. Just leave me alone.

  The queue in front of counter three has long since turned into a tightly packed crowd, with Rin and me standing somewhere in the middle.

  The calm, bureaucratic atmosphere from earlier is completely gone.

  And after only a short time, I already miss it.

  I’d gladly stand in a quiet, dull line again. Fantasy charm can go to hell.

  “So,” Rin asks suddenly, “how did your exam go? Anything unusual happen?”

  I can’t exactly tell her that I failed as a hero and got scolded by my master-for-half-an-hour in the middle of this crowd.

  So I lie.

  “No. Everything went fine. And you? Anything special happen?”

  “Nope. Nothing special. Same as always,” she replies with a relaxed smile.

  That’s cruel. Now I really want to know what she did during her exam.

  At last, we reach the counter. The same polite guild employee from earlier accepts our documents and disappears briefly.

  He returns with two guild cards.

  “Here you go. These are your guild identification cards. With these, you are now officially members of the Adventurers’ Guild.”

  I take mine and look it over.

  A-rank.

  Somehow, I made it.

  I offer a silent, grateful prayer to my merciful master-for-half-an-hour.

  I glance sideways.

  Rin: S-rank.

  Of course.

  No wonder the guild went insane.

  The rank system used by the guild mirrors the general skill-ranking system of this world, making it immediately clear to anyone just how strong an adventurer is.

  S-rank is extremely rare—there are only a handful of individuals in the entire kingdom who have reached it.

  Rin became a living legend the moment she completed her entrance exam.

  That stings a little.

  I’m satisfied with my A-rank, but her instantly claiming the legendary tier feels unfair.

  This fantasy world runs on rules eerily similar to those of a role-playing game—something that suits me perfectly as a lifelong gamer.

  It’s so stereotypical that I’ve already encountered it countless times in novels and games. I was honestly a bit disappointed. I’d hoped for something more creative when I first learned about skills and magic in this world.

  At least I was reborn as a prince instead of some poor nobody who has to grind his way up alone with a mysterious skill and lots of tears.

  My upbringing was comfortable. I lacked nothing.

  My friends back home would be green with envy.

  My skills with weapons and other important abilities were trained from an early age. Unfortunately, there are no skill points I can casually distribute like in a game. Improving skills here requires intense, exhausting training.

  In other words—it’s not all that different from my old life.

  The real difference lies in my innate talent, which causes my abilities to grow explosively.

  If I’d had that back then, I could’ve skipped countless miserable nights of studying.

  With enough concentration and closed eyes, I can even see a status window showing my current attributes and skills. Not exactly helpful in the middle of a fight—but it definitely gives me that tingling feeling of being in another world.

  I’d love to say I’m already level ninety-nine.

  But there is no level system here.

  Only base attributes like Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Charisma, Wisdom, and Intelligence.

  Wisdom governs magic usage. Intelligence is exactly what it sounds like.

  Aside from the visible numerical values—especially Wisdom—it’s remarkably similar to what normal humans could achieve back in my old world.

  My stats, however, are absurdly high.

  Most of them break past the two-hundred mark.

  For comparison: a normal citizen sits around twenty. Trained soldiers or adventurers might reach close to a hundred in their specialized attributes.

  Thanks to my brutal training, I’ve also acquired generally useful skills like Reading, Writing, Riding, Arithmetic, Etiquette, and Rhetoric.

  Nothing I hadn’t already learned before.

  Well—except riding.

  But I had a driver’s license. That’s basically the same thing.

  The real fun starts with combat skills like Evasion A, Swordsmanship B, Archery C, Spear Mastery S, Blocking B, and Unarmed Combat D.

  Just like in my games, skills are ranked from E to D, C, B, A, and S.

  S-rank is practically divine—the absolute pinnacle. It’s incredibly rare, and I barely know anyone who’s reached it.

  Even E-rank isn’t bad. You can swing a sword around without any skill at all—but having one makes life much easier.

  Developing even an E-rank skill takes serious effort.

  Maybe I’m not as normal as I used to be.

  Especially when I remember that most people in this world can’t even read or do basic math.

  There’s just one problem.

  Magic.

  I’m terrible at it.

  I was devastated when I realized that the only base attribute that never climbed past fifty—no matter how hard I tried—was Wisdom.

  No matter how many tomes on magic I devoured.

  No matter how much I trained with the court mages.

  I was reborn into another world, and I can only truly learn things my old self could have learned as well.

  Sure, not quite as easily—and my movements look more like something out of a flashy action movie than anything a normal human should be capable of—but still.

  Honestly.

  A world with real magic, and the affinity of my mana only allows for bodily enhancement and illusion magic?

  Most people in this world don’t have mana at all. They live much like people did in the Middle Ages. Magical tools exist, but they’re obscenely expensive—only nobles and the wealthy can afford them.

  Capitalism follows me across worlds.

  Compared to that, I still got lucky.

  But it’s disappointing all the same.

  If I think back to the role-playing games I’ve played, I’m probably the stereotypical damage dealer.

  Exactly.

  The guy who rushes headfirst into monster hordes without thinking, while the others plan and strategize. The one who talks nonsense in dialogue scenes.

  At least I’m not the tank. That would’ve been even worse.

  I feel cheated.

  I had good grades. I even went to university.

  I’m not stupid.

  Then again, considering the circumstances of my death, I don’t really get to complain.

  At least I have the classic childhood friend at my side—the one who’s always there and will later become my loving, devoted wife.

  Absolutely essential for a proper isekai fantasy setting.

  I admit, I’m still working on the devoted part.

  An elbow slams painfully into my side.

  I grunt and glare at Rin, who is staring at me with murderous intent.

  “I warned you,” she whispers.

  “If you space out again and I have to explain everything to you one more time, I swear—pull yourself together.”

  Grumbling, I rub my aching ribs and focus back on the guild employee, who is still talking.

  “There is one more matter I need to inform you about,” the guild employee says seriously.

  “Normally, this is not relevant for beginners. However, due to your ranks, you already belong to the most capable adventurers in the kingdom.”

  Rin and I straighten slightly.

  “It is possible that the guild will directly approach you for assistance with particularly difficult quests. As members, you do not have the option to refuse such requests.”

  He pauses, making sure we’re listening.

  “These assignments are rare. They usually concern matters that affect the fate of many people. We guarantee that such quests are never issued lightly.”

  Rin and I nod.

  Arguing here would be pointless.

  He’s clearly not the one who makes these rules.

  He relaxes and smiles.

  “Thank you. Apart from that, you are free to choose which quests to accept from the quest board. Given your rank, there are no restrictions on difficulty. Conditions and rewards are always listed.”

  He gestures toward the hall.

  “If you wish to accept a quest, please proceed to counter one. You may also choose to form parties with other adventurers to improve your chances of success. I recommend agreeing on reward distribution in advance to avoid disputes later.”

  That was a lot of information at once.

  At least it gave me a momentary escape from the chaos around us.

  Until he mentioned forming parties.

  Then it got loud again.

  Rin and I push our way through the crowd, firmly ignoring everything around us.

  Her nerves are made of steel.

  At the quest board, we make our choice quickly.

  The quest was posted by a merchant traveling in the same direction as us. The pay is modest compared to other offers—but that was the whole point of this sudden adventurer career in the first place.

  He wants to depart later this afternoon.

  Perfect.

  Outside the city, a good portion of the crowd is still clinging to Rin.

  I’m almost impressed by their persistence.

  We duck into narrow side streets and manage to shake off the aspiring apprentices and overly enthusiastic marriage candidates.

  ***

  After lunch, we meet the merchant outside Leguria’s city gate.

  He owns two wagons, both packed to the brim with goods. He hopes to make a good profit in the western cities near the Elven Forest.

  Traveling with him are his wife and young son.

  I’m genuinely glad we took this job.

  I don’t want to find this family lying dead by the roadside.

  Even if I can’t understand why anyone would take their family along on such a dangerous journey.

  We depart on schedule, aiming to reach the next settlement before nightfall.

  I ride at the rear of the convoy while Rin takes the lead. That way, we can react quickly if anything happens.

  I strike up a conversation with the merchant’s wife, and the hours pass surprisingly quickly.

  Their home village was attacked by bandits. The family lost most of their possessions.

  They survived—but the fear stayed.

  With no future left in their village, they sold what little they had and became traveling merchants.

  There’s no place for them to return to.

  Danger follows them every day, but they cling to the hope of earning enough money to someday build a new, safer life elsewhere.

  The attacks during our journey remain manageable.

  Still, during the last bandit encounter, the merchant family would not have made it out unharmed without us.

  At the next settlement, our paths part. The family decides to take a longer rest for their son’s sake.

  We receive our reward—along with heartfelt thanks.

  At the local guild branch, we immediately take on the next escort quest.

  Helping people feels good.

  And traveling with others makes the conversations along the road—and the evenings around the campfire—livelier.

  We accept several more escort quests on the way toward the Elven Forest.

  Eventually, though, there are fewer and fewer travelers willing to head west.

  Before long, Rin and I are mostly alone again.

  One thing, however, hasn’t changed in the slightest.

  The endless riding is killing me.

  I have to restrain myself more and more often from asking Rin,

  Are we there yet?

  I’m not a small child stuck in the back seat.

  Besides, I can vividly imagine her smug grin.

  I will never sink that low.

  ***

  I survived.

  We made it.

  Fantasy stories never show journeys like this. In movies, it’s usually just a small caption in the corner of the screen—and then the action continues.

  Sure.

  Anything else would probably be unbearably boring.

  But damn, that was exhausting.

  I honestly thought that being a Hero—and having all my training—would make traveling easy. I can ride. I’ve learned to fight with multiple weapons. I have stamina my old self would have envied. And I look damn good while doing it.

  None of that helps when you spend endless hours sitting on a horse.

  Even the fights against roaming monsters—goblins, wolves—were little more than brief breaks from the monotony. With Rin’s fireballs, most of them were already roasted by the time I got there. I just finished off whatever was left with my sword.

  The first time, the smell of burned flesh nearly made me throw up.

  I’m sure I’ll still be hearing about that when I’m an old man.

  Whatever.

  Soon, I’ll finally see real, living elves.

  Nothing can stop me now.

  We’ve reached the western border of our kingdom. From here on, the vast forest of the elves begins—an independent realm, separate from human lands.

  “We’re being watched,” Rin whispers.

  I noticed that too.

  At least a dozen presences are hidden in the treetops. I don’t sense outright murderous intent, but caution and distrust weigh heavily on me.

  The elves aren’t a particularly welcoming people.

  Especially toward humans.

  And who could blame them?

  Only sixty years ago, the elves were forced to defend their forest in war against the human kingdoms.

  My grandfather was a great war hero back then.

  On the human side.

  That fact alone doesn’t exactly improve my position here.

  Turning back now isn’t an option. And under no circumstances do I want to hear I told you so from Rin.

  I dismount and lead my horse by the reins toward the forest’s edge.

  “Greetings!” I call out loudly. “My name is Arik Eiswolf. According to the ancient prophecy, I am the Hero destined to unite the races against Balaam. Please take me to your king.”

  Rin stands directly behind me.

  “Do you really think it was wise to burst in like that and announce your full name?” she whispers.

  “They’ll find out anyway,” I whisper back. “My chances are better if I play with open cards from the start.”

  No response.

  No reaction.

  Only the same uncomfortable feeling of hostile eyes watching us from the shadows of the forest.

  Seems there’s no helping it.

  “We’re going into the forest,” I say quietly.

  “That should force them to react.”

  Rin nods.

  We step into the sea of green.

  Less than ten minutes later, we’re lost.

  Every tree looks the same. If this were that old children’s game, every answer would just be tree.

  “Arik? You look tense. You’re scanning everything so carefully. What do you see?” Rin asks.

  “Tree.”

  “…What?”

  “Never mind. What matters is getting the elves down from the trees. I don’t want to wander around here forever. We won’t even find our way back—and it’ll be pitch-dark soon.”

  “Do you have a plan?” she asks, sounding hopeful.

  I give her my most innocent smile.

  “Oh no. I know that look,” Rin groans.

  “You’re planning something stupid again, aren’t you?”

  That’s mean.

  My innocent smile is my greatest charm.

  Still—she’s not wrong.

  I lean closer and whisper my plan into her ear.

  She stares at me like I've lost it completely.

  Then she collapses.

  “Waaaaah! We’re lost!” Rin cries out dramatically, dropping to the ground. “We’ll never find our way home! We’re going to starve!”

  Tears stream down her face, her sobbing echoing through the forest.

  It’s… impressively convincing.

  A short while later, several elves cautiously emerge from the shadows, longbows drawn and aimed straight at us.

  “Please don’t cry!” one of them says hurriedly.

  “We’ll help you. Come with us to our village.”

  I knew it.

  Elves are just men.

  And cuteness wins.

  Who could endure watching a pretty girl cry like that right in front of them?

  I was confident this plan would work in a fantasy world. I’ve read scenes like this countless times.

  Still…

  The fact that it actually works unsettles my very normal inner self more than I expected.

  Rin is immediately surrounded and gently comforted.

  Meanwhile, something unpleasant starts bubbling up inside me.

  Jealousy.

  I glare in their direction.

  That’s when the elves finally turn their attention toward me.

  Their gazes turn cold.

  Lethal.

  Before I can react, my hands are bound.

  Two drawn bows remain trained on me from both sides as we start moving.

  Great.

  Please stop that.

  I’m harmless.

  This is incredibly nerve-wracking.

  Also—could you maybe stop flirting with Rin up there?

  I’ve learned my lesson.

  You got your revenge.

  Thank you very much, Rin. You don’t need to keep glancing back at me with that smug grin.

  She’s a monster.