When Fantasy Glitches

Magnus awoke feeling much better than he did yesterday. Though he still couldn't say that he was at a hundred percent, he was definitely less sore.

The first thing he noticed when he got up was a new set of clothes placed on the desk, something that hadn't been there when he drifted off. Assuming one of the others had left them there for him, he quickly got dressed and stepped outside, entering a sprawling open area.

The makeshift home where he'd spent the night was a solitary room, leaning against a tall cliff for support. Scanning the vicinity, Magnus observed numerous similar structures, all built with the same design.

Oh right, Mia said that this was the bandit's camp.

The camp had its own rudimentary stable, a large fire pit surrounded by logs serving as makeshift seats and tables, and a wall made of sharpened logs, forming a semi-circle from one end of the cliff to the other, held together by rope and sporadic metal reinforcements.

A singular gate provided entry and exit, with the dense forest enveloping the camp on all sides.

While exploring, Magnus was caught off guard when he suddenly heard a voice say, “This place is pretty big despite being built by a bunch of bandits, ey?”

Startled, he quickly jumped back while turning around, spotting that the voice came from none other than Gerald. Of course, this left him even more surprised than he was a moment ago.

“Wha- how did I not hear you coming up behind me?”

"As much as it pains me to admit it, not every situation calls for a grand entrance; subtlety has its moments," Gerald said, though the sincerity of his advice was quickly overshadowed by Marcos's interjection as he walked over to them.

"That's rich, coming from you, especially after the Caliborn fiasco." Gerald quickly defended his actions with a retort.

"Those noblest bastards had it coming and deserved every bit of chaos we brought to their doorsteps. Besides, it's not like any of them died, though they probably won’t be walking anytime soon."

“Yes, and because of that, we nearly got arrested and demoted. We got lucky that Mia’s… you know what, never mind, I would rather forget about the whole thing. I'm going to go help Mia out with the horses.” Marcos cut himself short while shaking his head, leaving a slightly curious Magnus behind and an annoyed Gerald.

After a brief wait, the sound of hooves clattering against the earth broke the silence. Mia and Marcos emerged from the stables, leading a quartet of horses by their reins. Each horse radiated vigor and strength, their coats a glossy spectrum from golden brown to deep ebony.

But a headcount revealed a glaring mismatch in Magnus’s eyes.

Wait a minute...

Gerald wasted no time in claiming the largest horse for himself, while Marcos busied himself with strapping their necessities onto another. They were traveling light; a day’s journey meant they didn’t need to bother with setting up a camp, so they just packed a few essentials out of caution rather than necessity.

“Uh, hey, Mia,” Magnus said while walking over to her, who was busy adjusting her horse's saddle.

“Hmm? Oh, what is it, Magnus?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you brought over four horses, but, um… I don’t exactly know how to ride one,” he confessed, gesturing towards the unclaimed steed. Mia paused in the middle of what she was doing, her gaze darting between Magnus and the horse.

“Oh, right…” She had completely overlooked the fact that Magnus had probably never even ridden a horse. With a slight frown, she mulled over it for a second before a light bulb went off.

“Well, I guess you can ride with someone,” Mia suggested, immediately conjuring in Magnus’s mind the less-than-ideal image of himself sharing a horse with Marcos. The thought alone—a vivid picture of him awkwardly clinging to Marcos as they rode—was enough to send shivers down his spine and the urge to jump off a cliff.

Absolutely not. Nope, that’s not happening. I'd rather ride with Gerald than do that, even if I doubt I could even wrap my arms around him.

Setting aside the more mortifying options of Marcos or Gerald, Magnus’s preference veered naturally towards Mia. Voicing this, however, earned him a sharp glare from Marcos and an amused, all-too-understanding look from Gerald.

Yet, Magnus couldn’t deny the truth of the matter.

Their journey alongside Mia made one thing crystal clear to them all: Mia was breathtaking. It wasn't just her striking eyes or the sculpted physique honed from her military service; every aspect of her carried a strange charm, one not easily found back on Earth.

So with that decided, they all got atop their horses and set off from the bandit hideout towards the road where their journey had initially been interrupted. The return to familiar ground was pretty quick, and in just a few minutes, they were already back on the dirt path again.

“Ow…” Magnus grimaced, unable to suppress his discomfort. He had previously thought that a journey in a suspension-less cart was the pinnacle of discomfort, but riding horseback introduced him to a whole new level of aching, especially with his injuries. Even at a gentle trot, each jolt sent a sharp, unwelcome shudder through his body.

Mia glanced back at him after hearing that, offering a mix of empathy and encouragement.

"It's normal for horseback riding to feel awkward at first," she reassured, "but you'll get used to it once you figure out the right posture. Just try not to fall off when we pick up the pace."

Magnus managed a nod, accepting that her advice pretty much boiled down to holding tight and bearing with it.

To distract himself from the torturous ride, Magnus decided to spark up a conversation. "So, Mia, you're able to use magic, right? Does that make you a mage, or something like that?"

Mia chuckled lightly, dismissing the title with a wave of her hand.

"Me, a mage? Hardly. I've not earned such a distinction. I'm merely luckier than most." Her modesty and direct refusal only deepened Magnus's curiosity, but before he could ask further, Gerald chimed in from beside them.

"Don't let Mia's humility fool you. Spirit Naturalists, like her, are born with a unique connection to the world's spirits. It's an incredibly rare gift—something like a one in ten thousand chance at birth. And Mia? She's exceptionally talented, even amongst-" Mia shot Gerald a look, causing him to stop talking before letting out a sigh and continuing.

"As I was going to say before I was interrupted, explaining this is a bit tricky without knowing exactly what words you're familiar with, but I'll do my best anyway. Spirit Naturalists, as Gerald mentioned, have a natural talent for connecting with spirits, who act sort of like managers of different aspects of the world. This connection doesn't hinge on language or spoken words; it's more about the intentions we carry, our concentration, and our mental state.”

She paused, searching for the right words.

"Training to interact with spirits takes time, effort, and a lot of discipline, especially to do it under pressure. Your emotions, thoughts, and motivations—they can all interfere with your connection to the spirits, making it harder to communicate with them or even distorting the connection entirely."

Magnus's eyes sparkled with an unbridled fascination.

"I think I get it, so your affinity is with wind spirits? Does that mean you're a wind spirit naturalist, then?" Magnus felt like it was pretty obvious Mia had a connection to the wind, especially after seeing her ability to manipulate arrows from a distance, her unnatural agility, and her weird foresight.

But Mia ended up correcting him with a gentle smile: "You're partially right. I do have a high rapport with wind spirits, but it's not about control. We, as spirit naturalists, are not bound to any one type; if I wanted, I could communicate with flame spirits as well. However, my ability to communicate with spirits isn't because I possess some kind of extraordinary talent; it's just that the spirits are fond of me, more so than they are of normal people.

This bond is universal, not confined to a specific category of spirits, and the extent of what I can ask from them hinges on how great that bond is. Just like how some people naturally mesh better with certain social circles, I find it easier to understand and relate to wind spirits, likely due to my personality and fighting style, so I call on them most often. It really all comes down to preference."

Magnus's initial intrigue took a sharp turn towards bewilderment as he listened to Mia's explanation.

Hold on a second. So, basically, the spirits just decided they vibed with her, and so they let her request their assistance? It’s all just based on their personal liking for her? But that's... so random. It's not tied to anything concrete—not even genetic talent or some other biological factor.

It’s all just based on the mood of the spirits. So, if they just one day decide, 'fuck you,' they could essentially cut off a spirit naturalist connection entirely?

Mia's smile in response to Magnus's mix of confusion and realization pressed her to continue.

“Anyway, I started my training quite young, around six years old. If spirit naturalists neglect their bond during their formative years or fail to maintain these interactions, their natural affinity begins to fade. While you can't enhance your innate connection beyond its initial level, you can preserve it,” she explained.

Magnus now grasped the gravity of Gerald’s earlier comments. If one's affinity with spirits and ability to request aid from them were measures of a spirit naturalists power, then that affinity itself was akin to a countdown, progressively ticking down from the moment of birth.

Grasping the art of spirit communication when you were young meant you could 'freeze' your affinity while it was still closest to its peak.

So in the end, the caliber of a spirit naturalist hinges on two factors: the age at which they start their communication with the spirits and their naturally born affinity level. If Mia started her communication with them at six and her inherent affinity was pretty high, then there was no doubt she was probably talented even as a child.

Still, the idea of hearing the voices of intangible beings the moment you are born is beyond me; I'd probably end up going crazy or something. Though I guess it also means that spirit naturalists are pretty much destined to be child soldiers. For Mia, she was basically indoctrinated at the age of six...

"What's with the gloomy look, kid?" Gerald and Mia's curiosity was piqued by the sudden change in Magnus's demeanor.

"Ah, it's nothing; I'm just trying to wrap my head around everything. It's a lot to digest." He was never one for deep thinking, but this world and his brief time within it had altered his worldview a lot already. Even in some ways, he couldn’t directly realize himself.

"Well, try not to overthink it," Mia advised.

"It took me years of studying to even begin to understand the complexities of the system spirits are part of. Once we reach Arlcliff City, you'll have plenty of opportunities to digest this kind of stuff at your own pace." Magnus found solace in her words, his anticipation for their arrival in Arlcliff growing; it was, after all, what he was looking forward to the most.

During the remainder of their journey, Magnus decided to stick to more simple questions. Mia had made it clear: even if they dedicated the entirety of their remaining journey to discussing the nuances of spirit naturalists and the spirits themselves, they would barely graze the surface.

The scope of what there was to know was simply too vast. So, instead, he focused his inquiries on understanding his more immediate surroundings, which Mia and Gerald didn’t seem to mind, while Marcos remained as distant as ever.

Still, he kept a mental note to himself to look into spirits a bit more in the future when he had the chance.

•

After hours of traveling on horseback, Magnus, just as Mia had said he would, gradually got used to how bumpy the ride was, so much so that he started to doze off. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from his healing injuries or the rhythm of the horse's gait, but eventually, he ended up falling asleep again.

It was only when he felt a soft tapping on his head that Magnus's eyes fluttered open.

“Magnus… Magnus,” Mia whispered. As soon as he woke up, he quickly straightened himself and realized he had not only fallen asleep, but while he was leaning up against Mia's back, he had accidentally drooled on her. Embarrassed, he quickly went to wipe it off with his sleeve, though Mia seemed far from bothered and instead teased him about it.

“I almost didn’t want to wake you, given how peacefully you were sleeping. But I thought you’d want to see—we’ve arrived,” she said. The lingering haze of sleep and embarrassment he was feeling seemed to vanish as Magnus leaned to the side and caught a glimpse of what was in front of them.

The forest that had been following them throughout their journey was finally receding, giving way to a scene bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, transforming the sky into a canvas of light.

The path they had been following started to tilt downhill, leading to a vast expanse of open plains. Farmland stretched into the horizon, while ahead, Arlcliff City stood majestically, its skyline reaching up high.

Multiple dirt paths conjoined onto their own, winding from every direction. In the distance, there was a large river that seemed to flow without end, weaving itself around the countless buildings in his view. Some were built within the walls of the city, while others merely surrounded it.

Magnus was utterly captivated, his gaze locked on the sight before him in sheer awe. Arlcliff City was unlike anything he had seen before—its existence felt similar to the feeling he got when he saw digital artwork of grand fictional cities back on Earth, although this of course had a much bigger impact on him.

“It’s…” Words seemed to have failed him, which caused Mia to subtly nod as she spoke.

“I felt the same when I first came here. Arlcliff City is not just any city—it's among the largest and oldest in the Batis Kingdom, a testament to the kingdom’s legacy of innovation, standing tall for nearly a century.”

As Mia talked about the city's history, they continued down their path. Even though the city was in view, reaching it still took quite a while. Its towering walls, rising nearly three hundred feet into the sky, looked to be constructed of a unique white stone that shimmered with a golden hue under the sun's embrace.

Despite the city's size, the roads leading to it were surprisingly sparse, populated by a scant number of people who yielded the main road to the few passing horses, carts, and caravans.

Well, it is a big city; it probably has multiple gates. Still, this place is ridiculously huge up close; it’s more like a mountain than anything else. She said it was built nearly a hundred years ago, but how do you even begin to make something like this without machinery?

The only guess that made sense to him would be that it was built not just through labor but with the help of magic, which would just make the city even cooler in his mind.

Man, if only Wendy could see this, she would have lost her mind. I mean, I was into classic fantasy, but she’s an absolute fanatic for this kind of stuff.

As they approached the city gate, Magnus noticed that it was nearly half the height of the walls. Iron bars could be seen raised high, ready to be dropped at a moment’s notice to seal the entrance, and the gate itself was wide enough that there would never be an issue with conjunction unless the road they were on was flooded with people.

Magnus’s attention slowly shifted to the ten guards stationed on either side of the gateway. Clad in heavy armor and armed with halberds, their stern gazes and formidable stance left no doubt about the fact that they took their jobs seriously.

Jeez, even if they're not on Gerald’s level, they could definitely be bodybuilders back on Earth.

Near the gate, an elder gatekeeper, clipboard in hand, noticed their approach and gestured for them to halt. Mia, Gerald, and Marcos obediently reined in their horses as the gatekeeper called out for their details.

“Names, occupations, and reasons for entry?” He inquired, his pen poised over his list, ready to record their answers.

But instead of responding normally, Mia reached for her belt, retrieving a metallic insignia depicting a manticore. Presenting it to the gatekeeper, she introduced herself with authority: "I am Mia Reiheim, Captain of the 23rd Eastern Border Defense Company. We need to report to Major General Arbarth immediately." As Mia spoke, the expression on the older man’s face immediately changed from casual to respectful as he took a step back.

The guards, having also overheard Mia's introduction, adopted an even more rigid posture, their attention sharpening.

"Forgive me, please, go right through." The gatekeeper hastily shifted his demeanor, his voice now laced with profound respect, as he gestured to the guards to let them pass. Mia responded with a nod, and together they all started making their way into the city.

As they passed by, Magnus threw a glance over his shoulder at the guards and the clipboard-clutching gatekeeper.

I guess being a captain is a pretty big deal if it makes people react like that. But in any case, at least I’ve finally returned to civilization. Now I’ll have a chance to actually figure out where exactly I am. And more than that, I’ll have some time to figure out how to use the Command Console.

I mean, technically, I've already done it once, even if I wasn’t fully conscious during it, so how hard can it be?