The trip to the next Gate took nearly a month, and it wasn’t without its challenges. The Map made it clear that the continent we were on was huge, but only crossing it drove the point home. Even with the wind boosting our speed, a balloon wasn’t a plane. The slow pace was frustrating. If the next few Gates weren’t viable, we’d be stuck here for another winter, and that was not an appealing thought.

    We flew above more than thirty cities, their numbers increasing toward the continent’s center, where the population was denser. The cities were diverse, but they all had walls—though even those varied. One city had a metal and stone wall encircling it, with people moving in and out of the surrounding hills. Mahya, spotting the rails and carts, figured they were mines. We considered stopping for a visit until we saw a man whipping one of the cart handlers. That killed the idea fast. Sure, we enjoyed helping, but we couldn’t fix the entire world.

    Another difference was the traffic between cities. We spotted groups traveling in carts pulled by dogs and others moving on foot, all in large numbers and armed to the teeth. That part annoyed Mahya, since the wind located far fewer dungeons than usual. Over the month, they’d only cleared five, and she kept muttering about “stupid locals stealing her dungeons.”

    Every time she complained, Al and I exchanged a knowing smile, but kept quiet.

    In the seventh city we flew over, someone with high Perception spotted the balloon despite the obfuscation being active. He shouted, pointed, and a group immediately tried to shoot us down. Idiots.

    Oh, look, travelers crossing our continent. Let’s kill them. Jackasses!

    They annoyed Mahya so much that she dumped half the sand from her Storage and turned to me. “Tell the wind to give them a good scrub with the sand.”

    I laughed, but went along with it. They deserved a good scrub.

    The wind responded immediately, whipping up miniature sand tornadoes that engulfed the shooters. Two of them tumbled off the wall, while the rest scrambled for cover.

    Mahya nodded in satisfaction.

    The tenth city we flew over was under siege. Spells crackled through the air, arrows arced over the battlements, and bullets rattled against the stone. Fighters clashed below, their movements frantic amid the chaos.

    "Should we help the city under attack?" I asked, watching the battle unfold.

    "No," Mahya and Al said in unison.

    "Why not?"

    Al folded his arms, his gaze steady. "Because we lack the necessary context regarding the events that led to this altercation. The besieged city may very well be the aggressor in this conflict."

    Yeah, he had a point. Without a better grasp of the situation, jumping in was a bad idea. We flew on, leaving the battle behind. S~ea??h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    The twenty something city we flew over was breathtaking, a vast expanse of elegance and grandeur that stretched out beneath us. From above, it looked like something out of a fairy tale, its sprawling mansions reminiscent of the Loire Valley in France, where I had once wandered with Mahya and Lis.

    Between the opulent estates, lush gardens spread in every direction, their carefully manicured hedges forming intricate patterns. Wide, tree-lined boulevards wound through the city, connecting elegant squares where fountains sent shimmering arcs of water into the air. Almost every intersection boasted towering sculptures.

    "Does it remind you of something?" I asked, tilting my head toward Mahya.

    She laughed, a spark of nostalgia in her eyes. "Of course. France. That’s where I visited my future home."

    Al glanced between us, his brow furrowing. "Your future home?"

    "We lived in Paris for a while," I explained, waving at the grandeur below. "Mahya decided she would model her future home after the Palace of Versailles. Then, when we visited the Loire Valley, she couldn’t decide between Versailles and a chateau she saw there. I don’t remember its name."

    "Chateau de Chambord," Mahya said, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. Her gaze drifted toward the city below, lost in some far-off vision. "And I still intend to do it. Just many, many years from now, after I explore a few galaxies first."

    She grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

    "I am unfamiliar with those places," Al said.

    "I’ll find pictures to show you," I said. "You need to see them to truly appreciate the grandeur of her ambitions."

    Mahya shrugged, her expression nonchalant, but her eyes still filled with that far-off dream. "If you dream, dream big."

    "While you dream, should we visit this place?" I asked.

    Rue peered down, his ears flicking. "Rue not care."

    "It is beautiful," Al said, as he studied the city below.

    Mahya shrugged. "I''m with Rue. Whatever you decide."

    We landed a few miles from the city, and I set up my house. After a quick search in the library, I found the picture books I had bought in Versailles and the Loire Valley.

    Al flipped through them while Mahya leaned in, practically glowing with excitement as she gushed about her future plans. She pointed out architectural details, debated color schemes, and went on about which elements she would absolutely have to include in her own estate one day.

    Al, however, barely reacted. After a while, he closed the book with an almost bored expression and said offhandedly, "This is nearly as opulent as the palace I grew up in. Of course, it lacks the enchanted conveniences and is considerably smaller, but it is nice enough."

    Mahya froze mid-sentence, eyes locked on him. Her mouth hung open, utterly speechless.

    I laughed. Pretty sure that was the first time she actually internalized the fact that Al was a bona fide prince.

    By morning, they boarded the swords, and we flew to the city. We landed in a quiet side street, found a group of locals, and listened closely to their speech. The language was nothing like the ones we had learned so far. It was harsher, filled with guttural sounds, heavy consonants, and plenty of ch and gh sounds that made it feel rougher on the ears.

    Once we felt confident enough with the basics, we left the city, flew to a spot a few hundred meters from the gate, and spent some time practicing. Satisfied with our progress, we walked back to the city.

    “Glamor yourself to the local dogs,” I told Rue.

    He nodded and did it.

    Four guards stood at the gate, two armed with swords and two with rifles. As we approached, we saw two groups leaving the city, but no one entering.

    One guard stepped forward and raised a hand. "What is the reason for your visit?"

    "Trade," Mahya said.

    "A hundred gold per head," he stated flatly. "And your dog can’t enter the city limits. We have special kennels for dogs."

    Before we could respond, another guard leaned in, resting a hand on the speaker’s shoulder. He whispered just loud enough for me to hear, "The little man is a healer, the tall man is an alchemist, and the girl is a powerful warrior."

    I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Little man? Sure, at 5’7, I looked short standing next to Al’s 6’2, but I wasn’t that short. Most people in this world were around my height, some a little taller—including the guards standing right in front of me.

    The guard’s demeanor shifted instantly. His stern expression melted into a broad smile, and he gestured toward a side door leading to a structure just beyond the gate.

    "Please, distinguished guests. Wait here, and we will send a message to the king."

    Al''s brow lifted. "To the king?"

    "Of course, of course," the guard said eagerly. "Important guests like you should meet with the king."

    Mahya and Al both turned to me. I checked my Luck, but it was silent, a flat line with no pulse jumps.

    I gave a slight nod.

    The guard led us to a waiting room furnished with couches. "Please wait here," he said before stepping out.

    Nearly three hours passed before he finally returned. In the meantime, the three of us read books, passing the time in silence. When the guard reentered, his eyes widened comically at the sight of us casually holding books. Without a word, we put them in our backpacks and stood.

    Outside, five uniformed guards waited, each carrying a variety of weapons. One of them stepped forward. "Please follow me."

    They led us a block from the gate to a massive structure that looked like a barn or stable. Inside, the resemblance was even stronger, with rows of half-height doors dividing the space into stalls. The guard walked ahead and opened one door, revealing a pile of blankets on the floor.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    A young man arrived just then, carrying two bowls—one filled with water, the other with raw meat. "Your dog can wait here," he said.

    Rue trotted inside, sniffed the meat, and, apparently satisfied, began to eat. "Coo''ed meat ''s be''er."

    The three of us snickered, drawing puzzled looks from the guard and the stable boy.

    We simply shook our heads. No need to explain.

    The guards led us to the largest mansion in the city. Or maybe it was the palace. As we walked, they positioned themselves around us. It didn’t feel threatening or restrictive, but more like they were shielding us. Still, the formation made me uneasy. My Luck remained silent, still as clear as a lake.

    The palace was huge. White marble walls caught the sunlight, their polished surfaces almost too bright to look at. Carvings covered the archways, everything from mythical creatures to battle scenes, like someone had decided that every inch of stone needed to tell a story. The entrance was lined with towering columns, each wrapped in gold and silver. Water ran through carved channels in the floor, leading to a massive fountain where a stone beast stood frozen mid-roar. The air carried the scent of flowers and incense, with a hint of something metallic underneath.

    A guard led us inside, through long halls that seemed designed to make visitors feel small. The waiting room they brought us to was a far cry from the last one. Everything screamed wealth. Velvet-covered chairs, a table inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and tapestries so detailed they probably cost a fortune.

    The wait wasn’t long before the guard returned, his expression unreadable. "The king will see you now."

    We followed him through the palace, passing towering columns and walls draped with tapestries that looked expensive enough to fund a small kingdom. In some halls, paintings and weapons lined the walls, while every intersection boasted tables cluttered with decorative vases or sculptures. The marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of golden sconces, and the entire place had a faint scent of incense and polished wood.

    It was the kind of grandeur meant to impress visitors. Personally, I wasn’t impressed. They had crammed too much into too little space. The individual pieces—the paintings, the tapestries, the sculptures—were undoubtedly beautiful, but the sheer volume of them made everything blur together. There was no sense of balance, no room to appreciate any one thing before another piece fought for attention. It was excess for the sake of excess, and instead of feeling grand, it just felt cluttered.

    At the end of one hall, two massive doors loomed ahead, each carved with battle scenes and rulers who probably thought they were more important than they actually were. The guards stationed there pushed them open in perfect sync, revealing the throne room beyond.

    The place was massive. Overhead, a domed ceiling, painted with stars and swirling constellations, shimmered as if enchanted. The floor was an elaborate mosaic, and banners edged in gold lined the walls.

    At the far end, sitting on an ornate throne that looked both uncomfortable and ridiculously expensive, was the king.

    He was tall, with dark, piercing eyes and a neatly trimmed beard. Everything about him screamed authority, from the way he lounged like he owned the world to the way his fingers tapped idly against the armrest as he studied us.

    The guards flanking us didn’t say a word. We didn''t either.

    "You are unusual travelers," he said. "Few cross our lands unseen, and fewer still arrive with such reputations."

    Mahya lifted her chin, arms crossed. "And what exactly do you want from us?"

    The king smiled, a practiced expression that carried just enough warmth to seem genuine. "I wish to offer you a place here, within my kingdom. I will grant you a home together, or separate residences, should you prefer. A clinic for the healer, a laboratory for the alchemist." His gaze flicked to Mahya. "And a place within my King''s Guard for a warrior of your caliber."

    I frowned. "And in return?"

    "Nothing beyond what any citizen owes," he said smoothly. "A fair tax. Fifty percent of your income."

    Just as I opened my mouth to say no, my Luck stirred. It wasn’t a sharp warning, not an urgent alarm, just a quiet nudge. A beware.

    That was enough.

    “We should accept,” I sent telepathically to Mahya and Al. “My Luck sent me a warning, so we need to play along.

    Mahya’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she gave the barest of nods. Al''s expression remained neutral, but I felt him stiffen.

    I turned back to the king and inclined my head slightly. "Your offer is generous. We accept."

    The king''s smile widened. "Excellent."

    A guard stepped forward. "I will escort you to your quarters."

    We followed him through winding corridors to a suite of rooms, more lavish than I had expected. Rich rugs covered the floors, and carved wooden furniture gleamed under the soft glow of the lamps. Everything reeked of wealth and comfort.

    And yet, something was wrong.

    Bars lined the windows. I checked them with my mana sense. Solid iron. I extended my awareness beyond the door. Four guards stood outside, motionless. I checked the door. Locked.

    “The bars are iron, the door is locked, and there are guards outside,” I said.

    Mahya cursed, Al looked annoyed. Yeah, I was in agreement with both of them.

    Mahya knocked on the door, and a guard stuck his head in. "Yes?"

    "We want to go see the city. We just arrived and were immediately whisked to see the king," she said.

    "You can''t. The king sent for a mage. After you swear your diligence and the mage binds you, we''ll let you out. Not before."

    Mahya looked like she was about to punch him. I put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. She turned to glare at me, and the guard closed and locked the door.

    "Why''d you stop me?" she snapped.

    "Let''s not start a fight, and use our heads instead," I said.

    “Put your potion masks on, prepare the potion guns, and turn invisible. I will take care of the rest,” Al said.

    We did as instructed. Al knocked on the door.

    The guard opened it and leaned in. Now, he looked annoyed. "You need something?"

    Al shot him. Mahya yanked the door open the rest of the way. I took out another guard while Al and Mahya handled the remaining two.

    We turned invisible and slipped into the palace corridors. We moved fast, twisting through halls and passageways, doubling back when we heard footsteps. Half an hour later, we found an empty room with an open balcony and flew straight to the kennels.

    Landing on the roof, I sent to Rue, “Turn invisible and join us. We''re getting out of here.”

    Mahya didn’t stop cussing the entire flight to the kennels and out of the city. "Arrogant son of a bitch. Who does he think he is? Bind us? Make us swear elligence?" She mimicked the king''s tone. "Only fifty percent tax. Asshole. I want to shove the taxes down his throat until he chokes and then pull them out of his ass along with his intestines."

    She barely took a breath before moving on. “And those guards? What kind of idiots lock up their guests and think that’s fine? I’d love to wring their arrogant necks and twist them into a pretzel. And this whole damn world! Always the same—power struggles, kingdoms, people playing their little games. Ugh! Just once, I’d like to land somewhere that doesn’t immediately try to screw us over.”

    The wind whipped past as we flew, but it wasn’t enough to drown her out.

    Mahya wasn’t done. “And another thing—”

    “You’re gonna run out of breath at this rate,” I cut in.

    “Then I’ll just take a damn breath and keep going.”

    We landed outside the city and slipped into the cover of the trees, moving on foot toward a clearing where we could take off.

    Maya wasn’t done yet. "I''m tired of this cursed world with its horrible people. I''ll gather my cores and we''ll get out of here. I don''t want to see or hear any more sons of bitches who think they''re kings or supreme rulers."

    She pointed at me and then at Al. "From now on, we have a new policy. No matter how good or promising a place looks, we’re not landing and going to visit. We have enough places to visit. This world is only for collecting cores and nothing else. Got it?"

    "I have a better solution," I suggested. "You have enough cores. Let''s just get out of here."

    Mahya turned to me, eyes narrowing. If looks could kill, I’d already be on the ground, stone-cold dead.

    Her face cleared, and she jabbed a finger at me with enthusiasm. "I have an even better idea. You should go visit the arrogant king at night and tax him a little. Give him a taste of his own medicine."

    "Why me?"

    "Because you''re an expert in acquisitions."

    "Hey!" I protested. "You could specialize in them too. All you have to do is join me on the taxation expedition."

    "I''m better at punching," she said with a shrug. "And if I see that bastard king, I''ll punch him. Taxation is a much better punishment."

    There was no point in arguing with Mahya, and to be honest, I didn’t really want to. The king’s behavior pissed me off too. I could understand that he wanted three useful citizens, and if the standard tax in his kingdom was fifty percent, his offer almost made sense.

    What angered me was that he tried to imprison us. He had no right. If we had refused, I might have understood an attempt to keep us here. But we agreed to his offer. Locking us up after that felt like a betrayal.

    So yeah, he did deserve punishment.

    At night, I flew to the palace and found an open window leading to an empty room. Slipping inside, I activated my Luck, focusing on finding the most valuable thing in the palace. There was no time to empty the place the normal way.

    Luck pulled me toward the basement. Of course. Why is it always the basement?

    At the bottom of the stairs, four guards stood in front of a massive iron door, three heavy padlocks securing it.

    I gave the guards a solid eight hours of sleep and coated my sword in mana before swinging at the first padlock. The iron gave way, but not quietly. The clang echoed through the basement, and I tensed as footsteps pounded down the stairs.

    Two more guards. Great. They joined their friends in dreamland before they could do more than blink.

    Taking my time, I sliced through the remaining padlocks with quieter, controlled cuts. The door creaked open, revealing several chests and shelves lined with a variety of valuables. I slipped inside and closed the door. The vault was pitch black, and I wasn’t about to light it up. Relying on my mana sense, I swept everything into Storage and slipped away before anyone else showed up.

    The loot pleased Mahya, but also disappointed her.

    The chests were filled with gold and silver coins, which she had no complaints about. The rest of the haul, though, was mostly ornate tableware set with gemstones and weapons embellished with gold and more gems.

    Her disappointment came from the fact that there were no cores.

    She rifled through everything twice, scowling as she checked the last of the items. "Seriously? Not a single core?"

    I shrugged. "Guess the king wasn’t hoarding them."

    She huffed, crossing her arms. "What kind of greedy tyrant doesn’t stash a few cores? Waste of a good heist."

    Another challenge we faced that month was the constant attacks from various creatures whenever we landed at night. Most of the time, it was the flying snakes. One night, the pack was so massive—over a hundred—that we had to throw everything we had at them. Lightning, spell after spell, swords, Al smashing them with his shield, telekinesis—everything. And even with all that, we still ended up with quite a few bites each.

    They didn’t paralyze us, thanks to Al’s potion and my spell, but damn, did it hurt.

    After twenty-eight days in the air, we finally reached the southern shore. The Gate stood less than five hundred meters from the water, anchored by two massive rocks sunk deep into the sand.

    We arrived in the late afternoon, so I set up my house, and we agreed to cross the Gate in the morning.

    When the sun had completely set and darkness fell, an unexpected sight awaited us.

    The shoreline had transformed. Pools of water left behind by the retreating tide glowed with an eerie, ethereal blue, scattered like fragments of the sky across the sand. At first, I thought it was just bioluminescence, like the glowing algae I had seen once on television. But as I activated my mana sense, the entire scene came alive in a way I hadn’t expected.

    The glow wasn’t just light; it was mana.

    Frowning, I crouched down, dipping my fingers into one pool. Tiny motes of magic pulsed in the water, shifting and flickering like fireflies trapped beneath the surface. Focusing, I traced the source, expecting some enchanted residue or magical runoff from a nearby dungeon.

    But it wasn’t that. It was plankton.

    I blinked, staring at the shimmering particles swirling in the shallow water. Plankton contains mana? That was a first. I had seen plenty of magical creatures, plants, even some bizarre fungi infused with magic, but never something so simple, so tiny, as plankton. And yet, here it was, glowing with an undeniable mana signature.

    I scooped up a handful of water, watching as the glowing particles clung to my skin before slowly drifting back down. If this were normal for this world, it raised a whole new set of questions. Could it be harvested? Used? What kind of ecosystem had evolved around mana-rich plankton?

    Standing, I glanced back at Mahya and Al. "This entire shoreline is packed with mana," I said, still trying to wrap my head around it. "It''s in the plankton."

    Mahya raised an eyebrow. "Plankton?"

    I nodded. "Yeah. Tiny organisms in the water. But they’re infused with magic."

    Al folded his arms, considering. "That is unusual."

    Understatement of the year.

    I turned back to the glowing tide pools, watching as the gentle waves sent ripples of light across the sand. This world never stopped throwing surprises at me. I was even getting used to it.