Whoosh. Whoosh. Slash.
My fist tore through the air toward Dagur. He barely managed to block, but the force sent him flying backward, skidding across the dirt. I barely had time to exhale before Alvin charged from behind. I sidestepped fluidly, then spun into a horizontal kick that slammed into his ribs, sending him tumbling across the field.
I frowned, lowering my stance. "Get up."
Groaning, the two men looked at each other and slowly climbed to their feet. They were bruised, breathing heavily, and clearly running on fumes. We'd been at it since early morning, and though I didn't say it aloud, I was proud of how long they'd lasted.
I hadn't chosen them by accident. While Viggo and Nala were brilliant strategists, they didn't offer the kind of physical challenge I needed. I was training not to unleash more power, but to contain it. Ever since my strength began to evolve, controlling it became more important than flaunting it. One wrong move and someone could die.
As I steadied myself for another round, footsteps echoed behind me. I turned instinctively.
"Erik, what's going on?" Rapunzel asked, walking toward the training grounds with Nala at her side. The morning sun caught in her golden hair, still braided from the day before.
I nodded to Nala in silent greeting, then looked to Rapunzel. "Sparring," I said evenly.
"Sparring?" she echoed, tilting her head. "Is it fun?"
"It has its moments," I replied, the corners of my lips twitching into a faint smile. "Would you like to join?"
Dagur choked on his breath. Alvin blinked at me like I'd grown a second head. Even Nala raised a questioning brow.
"Really?" Rapunzel beamed. "I'd love to!"
I smirked, amused by her enthusiasm. "Nala, find her something a bit more suitable. Less… colorful."
Rapunzel looked down at her flowing pink dress, then back up with a pout. "Huh? Why?"
Before she could protest further, Nala had her by the wrist. "Come on, Princess. Trust me—you'll thank me later."
As they disappeared into the castle, I turned back to Dagur and Alvin. "You two—rest. That's enough for now."
They slumped like collapsing tents, sighs of relief escaping them as they trudged toward the shade near the edge of the training grounds.
Dagur flopped onto his back. "Finally."
Alvin leaned against a barrel, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I thought you said this was sparring, not surviving."
I didn't respond. My eyes were on the horizon, where the morning haze still lingered over the trees.
Ten Minutes Later
"Erik, I'm back!" Rapunzel called out as she skipped onto the training grounds, now dressed in more practical attire—a simple tunic and trousers, her long hair braided tightly behind her.
I turned to face her. "Get ready to spar," I said plainly.
"Okay! But…" She tilted her head. "Um… how does sparring work?"
A vein throbbed in my temple.
Behind me, Dagur and Alvin burst into quiet snickers. Nala sighed and stepped in with a patient smile, beginning to explain the basics of stance, movement, and awareness to the eager—but clearly clueless—princess.
A few minutes passed. Rapunzel's expression shifted from excitement to uncertainty. Finally, she raised her hand.
"Erik," she said, voice quiet. "I… I don't want to spar anymore."
My brow furrowed. "What?"
She shrank back. "W-well, I'm not really strong. And I don't have any training. I'll just get in the way…"
I stared at her in silence for a long moment, then softened my expression. "Come forward," I said gently. "You'll learn along the way."
"I-I… I don't want to," she stammered, and then her eyes welled with tears. "I'm sorry…"
I clenched my fists, forcing down the frustration rising in my chest. No. Calm down. She doesn't know. She's not a soldier. She's never had to fight.
I let out a quiet breath. "Fine," I said, voice calm.
She blinked at me, surprised. "Really? Are you sure?"
I gave her a dry look. "Yes. I'm sure."
There was a beat of silence. Then she brightened slightly and asked, "T-then… can I have some more honey?"
I stopped mid-step, my blood pressure immediately spiking. "What happened to the jar I gave you yesterday?"
"Oh, I… I ate it all," she admitted, wringing her fingers guiltily.
My eyes narrowed. "That jar was supposed to last three weeks."
"Well…" She looked away. "This morning there was toast. And, I don't know… I just had to have the honey with it. But once I started, I couldn't stop…"
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Eating too much honey isn't good for you," I said sternly.
That was a lie. The honey I created was no ordinary sweetener—it was crafted from thousands of exotic, enchanted flowers, each selected for its restorative and nourishing properties. It would never harm her. But I wasn't about to encourage her gluttony.
She deflated, visibly shrinking with guilt, her lower lip trembling.
I sighed again and turned away. "I'll be heading out—around the kingdom and into the mainland. Do as you please. Nala, stay behind."
The others nodded and dispersed. Only Nala and Rapunzel remained behind me.
I glanced back at Nala. "Will she be useful?" I asked under my breath.
Nala smiled faintly. "Yes. Her healing abilities are rare—and powerful."
I nodded once. "You may go."
She gave a small bow and left.
"Rapunzel," I called without turning.
She perked up slightly. "Yes?"
"I'm going to explore the kingdom and the lands beyond. You can do whatever you want."
And with that, I walked away. My boots crunched against the dirt path, steady and unhurried.
After a moment, I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind me. I stopped.
"…What are you doing?" I asked, still not looking back.
"You said I could do anything," she said cheerfully, "so I'm following you."
I was quiet for a moment. Then, without a word, I resumed walking.
And, of course, she followed.
Two Hours Later
"Hey Erik, that looks fun—let's go over there!" Rapunzel said, pointing toward a lively part of the town square, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement.
"No," I replied flatly, my tone calm but firm. "I need to inspect the entire kingdom today."
She darted in front of me, forcing me to stop mid-step.
"Please?" she pleaded, staring up at me with wide, exaggerated puppy eyes.
I stared at her for a long second, jaw tight.
She's wasting time, I thought. But…
I exhaled sharply. "Fine. But keep it short."
"Yay!" she grinned, grabbing my hand briefly before skipping ahead. "I promise it won't take long."
I followed as she led me through winding alleys and down a sunlit path until we reached a small open square. There, a group of children were laughing and chasing one another—the same group she'd played with the day before.
"Hey guys! I'm back!" she called out. "Let's play something fun!"
The kids cheered and ran over, surrounding her with joy. She was immediately swept into their game, laughter echoing across the square.
I stood back, arms crossed. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty.
My fingers twitched with impatience. I could feel the minutes bleeding away, my itinerary slipping further out of reach.
I turned on my heel without a word and started walking toward the kingdom's gates.
Step. Step. Step.
"Erik!" came Rapunzel's voice, followed by hurried footsteps. She ran after me, breathless, and jumped in front of me again, pouting. "Why did you leave?"
"I have responsibilities," I said, not bothering to hide my irritation. "I don't have time to babysit children—or childish adults."
Her pout deepened into a glare. "I'm not childish. I just know how to enjoy life. You might want to try it sometime."
I didn't respond. I blurred past her in a burst of speed, leaving a gust of wind in my wake. Her voice faded behind me as she tried to chase after me.
"Ah—!"
I stopped instantly.
I turned to find her on the ground, cradling her foot, eyes glassy with pain.
I sighed deeply and walked back.
"What is it this time?"
"My feet hurt," she whimpered, trying not to cry. "I think I reopened my wounds…"
Of course. I should've expected that. I summoned the Rumblehorn mentally and knelt beside her, gently lifting her into my arms.
The dragon landed with a deep thud, its nostrils flaring as it waited for instruction.
I moved to place her on its back, but she squirmed.
"No!"
I paused. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"The dragon scales are too hard… It hurts my butt," she muttered with a stubborn pout.
I stared at her, mouth twitching slightly. Was she serious?
I exhaled a long, resigned breath. "Fine."
I gave the Rumblehorn a treat and gestured for it to return to its post. The great beast snorted softly before lifting off again.
With Rapunzel still in my arms, I turned and began the walk back to the castle.
She rested her head lightly against my shoulder, her voice quieter now. "Sorry…"
I glanced down at her. "For what?"
"For slowing you down. And… for the honey."
I almost smiled—but didn't.
Gothel
I pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside, Rapunzel cradled gently in my arms. The room was quiet, dimly lit by the fading orange light of dusk bleeding through the window. I moved toward the bed and laid her down with care.
"We're here," I said softly, brushing a lock of golden hair from her face. "I have a question for you."
She sat up slowly, her eyes searching mine, and gave a hesitant nod.
"Where's the tiara?" I asked. "I'm planning to scout the mainland—and check the tower while I'm at it."
She hesitated, glancing away for a moment before answering, "It's… under the floorboard at the stairs."
I nodded and turned to leave, but paused when I caught the look on her face. Her eyes were downcast, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Um… c-can you not hurt Mother?" she whispered, almost too softly to hear.
I froze mid-step. "You mean the witch who kidnapped you?" My voice was sharper than I intended.
"Y-yes," she replied, barely audible.
There was a long silence. I looked at her—really looked. Her hands trembled, and her lips were pressed into a thin, anxious line.
"You're a fool," I said at last, my voice calm but cold.
"I know," she whispered, her eyes glistening.
I watched her for a moment longer. The weight of everything hung between us—her pain, her loyalty, her confusion. Finally, I sighed and turned away.
"Fine," I said, heading for the door.
"Thank you," Rapunzel said quietly behind me.
I didn't look back, but the words lingered with me as I stepped into the darkening hallway, the door clicking softly shut behind me.
Later That Night
I moved silently through the forest, the only sounds coming from the soft crunch of twigs underfoot and the distant rustling of nocturnal life. My eyes scanned everything—the glint of moonlight on rivers and ponds, the curve of branches, even the way the bushes shifted in the wind. I was scouting. Searching. Watching.
Eventually, I stood before the narrow path that led to the clearing where the tower stood—Rapunzel's tower. The trees parted like sentinels, revealing the towering stone spire in the distance. I stepped forward, muscles tense, senses sharp.
The clearing was quiet. The rock walls still shielded the tower from the outside world, keeping it hidden from those who didn't know where to look. But something was different. I could feel it.
I approached and stopped at the base of the structure. There—where yesterday there had been no way up—were newly revealed stairs. Jagged stones and scattered pebbles littered the area, evidence that the obstruction had been moved recently. Someone had cleared the way. My eyes narrowed.
I activated my heightened senses, listening beyond the wind, beyond the trees. Nothing.
Without a word, I ascended.
Inside, chaos. The tower was in shambles—furniture overturned, broken glass glittering in the moonlight, books torn from shelves and strewn across the floor. I swept the room with my gaze, then moved swiftly to the stairwell Rapunzel had once pointed out.
It was open.
And the tiara—gone.
I cursed under my breath and turned on my heel, racing back through the woods. I didn't stop. Not until five minutes later, when I saw light flickering in the distance. A building—maybe a cabin, or a tavern tucked away in the trees. The kind of place no one would stumble upon unless they knew where to look.
I stepped up to the door and pushed it open.
Eyes met mine. Dozens. Every head turned, silence falling like a dropped blade. Rough men, cloaked figures, travelers with dirt-streaked faces and twitching fingers. This was a room full of dangerous people. Good.
I stepped inside, shut the door behind me, and faced them.
"I'm looking for someone," I said, voice calm, unshaken.
No one replied.
I continued, "A witch."
Still silence. But now they listened.
"She's taken something from my people. Whoever finds her will be rewarded handsomely."
They didn't move. But their eyes flicked to each other.
I raised my hands. With a flash of gold, coins shimmered into existence, conjured from my inventory and dropped at their feet. The sound was sharp in the silence.
"This is just an appetizer," I said. "Whoever finds the witch gets ten times this amount."
That got their attention. Eyes widened. Breaths caught. Greed was always louder than fear—at first.
"She has long black curly hair. Or she had. By now, she may have aged—rapidly. White hair, sunken skin. She uses magic to stay young, and she's desperate without it. She wears a deep red velvet gown, has a sharp face, and stands tall. Remember that."
I paused—but before I could say more, two men stood and approached. They looked like twins—one with an eyepatch and a sword at his waist, the other carrying a blade across his back. They had the build of mercenaries and the overconfidence to match.
They stopped a few feet from me. The one with the eyepatch grinned.
"And what's stopping us," he said, "from taking it off your corpse?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I raised a single hand—slowly—resting my fingers gently against his chest.
"What are you do—"
He didn't finish.
With one sharp movement, I struck. A one-inch punch. Silent, fast, precise.
He flew back like a ragdoll, smashing through the tavern doors, crashing into a tree outside. His body crumpled to the ground, unconscious, a perfect imprint of my fist etched into his chest.
The room froze.
Mouths hung open. Some men swallowed hard. Others backed away. I let my hand fall back to my side.
"Anyone else?" I asked, eyes scanning the stunned crowd.
They shook their heads in unison—vigorous, wordless.
Good.
"I will return in the morning," I said firmly, my voice echoing slightly in the silence.
I turned and stepped toward the door, hand reaching for the cold iron knob—when a hesitant voice broke through the stillness.
"W-wait…"
I paused, my fingers just brushing the metal, and turned to see who had spoken.
It was the other brother. The quieter one. His eyes darted between me and the floor, nerves twisting his expression.
"What is it?" I asked, my tone sharper than before.
"I-I know where the witch is," he stammered.
My gaze darkened. I took a step closer. "Where is she?"
His eyes flitted toward the shadows outside. Slowly, with a trembling hand, he pointed in a direction just beyond the edge of the clearing. My eyes followed.
There, half-shrouded in the gloom, stood a figure cloaked in a heavy hood. Her face was lost in shadow, but her presence was unmistakable.
Without hesitation, I moved—silent, sudden, and swift.
In a blink, I was before her.
She gasped, stumbling back as I reached out and pulled back her hood. The fabric fell away, revealing a pale face twisted in fear. Her wide eyes met mine, and I saw the truth in them.
She was the one.
Her lips quivered, but no words came. None were needed.
Her fear told me everything.
"Gothel," I said, my voice cutting through the air like tempered steel.
She froze mid-step. Her eyes widened, flicking around the tavern as if someone might come to her rescue. "W-What do you want?"
"The tiara," I replied, voice steady, devoid of emotion.
Her hands shook as she fumbled through her satchel, clumsy fingers brushing over trinkets and scraps until, at last, she pulled out the object of interest—a silver circlet, finely wrought and unmistakable. Its polished surface caught the dim lantern light, gleaming like a promise of power. She held it out to me with trembling hands, like a peasant offering tribute to a deity she dared not anger.
I took it without ceremony, without thanks. "It's good that you understand," I said coldly, releasing my grip on her wrist.
She staggered back, cradling her hand, too afraid to respond.
I turned away, her presence no longer worth my attention.
At the bar, a man waited—nervous, eyes darting. I tossed him a small leather pouch. He opened it slightly, the warm flicker of gold catching in his eyes.
"T-Thank you," he stammered.
I gave no reply. My cloak whispered behind me as I stepped out into the cold night air. The streets of Corona were still and empty, the moonlight casting long shadows along the cobbled roads. I moved silently through them, the tiara secure in my grasp, my thoughts already turning forward.
This problem was dealt with. A loose end tied. One month left in this kingdom, then on to the next.
"System," I said aloud as I walked. "What is the next kingdom?"
Host, the closest kingdom is Arendelle.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
Arendelle… The name was familiar. I couldn't place it, but something tugged at my memory. A Disney movie, maybe? I never watched shows—too inefficient—but the name had weight.
I pushed the thought aside.
There would be time to reflect later.
For now, I needed to begin preparations. The mainland would need to be scouted. Any threats assessed. I would dispatch the dragons first—fast, efficient. Then the men.
When I reached the castle gates, the guards stepped aside without question. The halls were quiet, though torchlight flickered against the stone walls. I spotted the King and Queen approaching, their steps light, their conversation hushed. They paused when they saw me, then bowed with deference.
"Hello, my lord," they said in unison.
I gave a nod and held out the tiara. "The witch will no longer be a concern," I said flatly. "She should be dead by now."
Their eyes widened. They exchanged a glance—relief and unease mingled in their expressions—before returning their gaze to me.
"Thank you," the Queen said softly.
The King added, "We are in your debt."
I said nothing more. I turned and walked on, my footsteps echoing through the stone corridors like distant thunder.
It's better to keep moving. I've seen the way the people look at me—and at Rapunzel. Whispers behind closed doors, wide eyes in open courtyards. I hold no interest in her. She reminds me too much of Moon.
That same fragile light. That same innocence I want to protect.
She was more like a younger sister. Or a child.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
I exhaled slowly, grounding myself in the present. No time for ghosts.
It had been days since I last visited the fleet. I wondered how they were faring. Hopefully, still sharp. I have no use for soldiers who grow dull in peacetime.
The scent of salt and steel greeted me as I approached the docks. The rhythmic clash of blades and the bark of commands echoed across the training ground. I paused at the overlook. Below, the men moved with precision—no sloppiness, no hesitation. Good.
Viggo stood at the edge of the formation, arms crossed, eyes sharp. He spotted me and approached without delay. When he reached me, he dipped his head in a short, respectful bow.
"What brings you here, my lord?" Viggo asked, voice steady.
I watched the soldiers for a moment longer, then spoke.
"I wanted to see if my soldiers had gone… soft," I said, my voice calm, almost dispassionate.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips. "I'm not foolish enough to let their training lapse, my lord."
I nodded. "Good. Make sure it stays that way."
He inclined his head again. "Of course."
I turned slightly, casting a glance toward the riders' stables. "And where is Nala?" I asked.
Viggo's mouth twitched in amusement. "Last I checked, she was on a date… with Dagur."
I paused, raising an eyebrow.
"Hm. I suppose love truly is blind."
He gave a quiet chuckle but said nothing. I pushed the thought aside, locking it away for another time.
"I want you to assemble a scout wing of dragon riders," I ordered, my tone shifting to steel. "They're to sweep the mainland—thoroughly. But they are not to cross any borders. I want detailed reports. Threats. Terrain. Movements. Everything."
"Understood. When do you want the report?"
"You have until the end of the month. No later."
"Yes, my lord."
I nodded to Viggo and turned away, my cloak whispering behind me as I walked. The sea breeze was growing colder, laced with salt and the distant cry of gulls.
What now?
I had already seen everything the kingdom of Corona had to offer. The stalls. The food. Even the mainland held no more curiosity for me—not that they were worth much. I had tied the loose ends.
And yet… there was a lingering sense of incompletion. A silence that felt too still.
"What's next?" I muttered aloud.
Host, might I suggest completing remaining achievements?
My brow rose.
"What kind of achievements?"
There are several minor achievements still available in this kingdom. While they are lower in difficulty and yield fewer points, they still contribute to your progression.
"Fine," I said, slowing my steps. "What are they? And how do I complete them?"
Host, you have completed 2 of 5 achievements in Corona. The remaining three are as follows:
Famous Chef (Rare): Prepare a meal that satisfies a large number of the people.The Kind Man (Rare): Assist a young girl in finding her lost cat.The Savior (Epic): Investigate and dismantle a human trafficking ring operating from the slums beneath the old market.
I stopped walking.
The first two… trivial. Time-consuming, perhaps, but nothing difficult. Reputation boosters, more than anything.
But the third…
"A trafficking ring?" I repeated quietly, eyes narrowing.
Affirmative. Intelligence suggests activity in the lower districts—discreet movements, vanished orphans, unmarked caravans leaving at night. The local guard suspects corruption within their ranks. No progress has been made.
Of course not. Corruption ran deep in kingdoms like these. Too much comfort. Too much trust.
"Send the details to my head," I commanded.
Data incoming.
A small glow flickered at the edge of my vision as a map expanded across my interface, highlighting alleyways, hidden routes, and reported disappearances. The lower districts were a maze of crumbling stone and forgotten souls—perfect for filth to fester unnoticed.
"I'll handle it myself."
Would you like to track the other achievements as well, host?
"No," I said. "Mark them for later. This one takes priority."
Understood. Achievement 'The Savior' now active.
I turned toward the city, boots echoing on the stone path as I headed for the shadows where even the guards refused to patrol.
The people saw me as a ruler. A warlord.
Note: what up guys if you've reach here then congradulation. but should also notice the story is the same. so im here to tell you why. im fucking lazy. i couldnt get myself to rewrite. so i've just decided to revise it using ai and repost the others. but after this i promise that the next chapters will have at least 2000 words and i will post every week. though if i finish multiple chapter in a week i will be posting more. thank you.