On the subject of secret realms, while I won’t make one for obvious, explosive reasons, they have become something I was greatly interested in ever since the Sage’s Realm tournament.

  — Excerpt from Notes For Newstar

  Day 6469, 10:05 AM

  An earth-aligned spiketail rumbled towards me. The creature was slow for its realm, but considering normal spiketails were big, heavily armored herbivores, moving roughly as fast as tortoises, the fact that it could run was impressive.

  Its spiked heavy armor was a great defense against other large saurians, but offered poor protection against humans. I proved it by crushing its neck from underneath, and then I darted into the jungle to search for the promised boons.

  The jungle was too uniform, as if the realm’s creator had taken a ten-by-ten yard square of jungle, then pasted it into the realm until it covered the entire area.

  Did they want the contestants to get lost or something? I thought when I spotted a pile of lumber leaning on a small wooden box with nails drawn. I stopped and reached for it, but as soon as my fingers touched the box, the whole thing disappeared.

  Could you make it gamier? The answer was apparently yes, since when I was running out of the jungle, I came across a large barrel with “TAR” written on the side. While I expected what would happen, I still slowed down to touch it, and just like the building supplies, it too vanished.

  Did I get an archer tower and a tar moat?

  I emerged from the jungle a handful of yards away from the miniature fort and saw planks roughly hammered into the already crude wooden wall, but there was no sign of the tar.

  A trihorn materialized at the spawn point and took a step, but the ground gave way, and it fell into a dirt-covered tar pit. I stopped to see what would happen.

  Based on the sloshing, the nearly invisible trap covered the entire width of the path, but it wasn’t that deep, perhaps two feet, and it was only two dozen feet long. Still, it significantly slowed the saurian, probably more than it would have in real life, and I slew it when it came out.

  The jungle dives were fun, and I found a bunch of things, including extra lives, or civilians to protect as the trial represented them. Then, there was a net to entangle one saurian in each wave, a spiked pit, which killed or crippled one monster per turn, and a bunch of other nonsense, none of which would work in the real world.

  The second most fun part were the diverse saurians, and the obvious challenges they represented, the sturdy ones, the strong ones that fought back, the fast ones that went straight for the gate, then came the packs, and then, I was out of the trial.

  I looked around, confused for a split second, then I understood what had happened, just before the announcer shouted my name. “And the winner of the second event is Dandelion Blackfist! I don’t know if we’ve ever had an unaffiliated mageknight take the first place and keep it after the second round!”

  “Based on what I’ve read,” a considerably less enthusiastic female voice stated calmly, “the best-rated unaffiliated participant had taken thirty-seventh place after the first event. So, no, we have never had one take first place in two events in a row.”

  She continued talking, but Newstar, Maelstrom, and the rest of the guys approached, and we were heading for the tavern to celebrate.

  Newstar was happily explaining how the event had gone for him and his team when the hostess in charge of our tables approached.

  “Excuse me, Lord Blackfist, there is a gentleman in a private room who would like to talk to you.”

  I nodded, excused myself, and went to the back room. The offers I had expected at the end of the tournament were coming in early.

  A burly man in a red uniform rimmed in gold sat at the table. His back was straight. He drank some strong liquor, and the fabric of his shirt was tight across his muscular chest and biceps. Considering how everything else fit him perfectly and that he was a void in mana, it meant he had the clothes specifically made that way to accent his assets.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  I held back a smirk and bowed respectfully.

  “Good day, Lord, how may I help you?”

  His attention shifted from his tiny cup to me only after I had spoken. He scanned me from head to toe and back again without saying a word, then focused back on his cup and took another drink.

  “The kingdom of Firesahun has deigned to bestow upon you a great honor. You may join the ranks of our retainers.”

  Wow, you really suck at this. He didn’t make eye contact, didn’t offer me to sit, showed not a shred of courtesy, let alone respect.

  “Thank you, Lord,” I said, straightening without his permission. “I am not interested. I bid you a pleasant day.”

  I turned around and left only to hear the cup shatter in his hand.

  Arrogant prick.

  What did he expect? That I would grovel before him and thank him for the honor? I was winning the tournament precisely because I didn’t want to do that and because I wanted a strong position for the negotiations.

  I returned to the party, but not ten minutes passed before the hostess told me I had another visitor.

  “Grandmaster Dandelion,” an elegantly dressed woman in white and beige stood from her seat and smiled at me. “No need to bow. Please have a seat.”

  I still gave her a courtesy bow, and she smiled with appreciation, then to my surprise returned the gesture.

  “I am Clear Diamondsoul,” she said as I sat. “And I must say, I am impressed with everything about you. Your record in the scribes’ guild is particularly impressive. I wondered what someone at the fourth realm had to do to earn your title, but inventing twenty-three new seals and seal improvements in less than a decade wasn’t what I had expected.”

  She smiled at me, her brilliant eyes shining with interest. “I would ask you why you didn’t use any seals in the competition so far, but the answer is obvious. You didn’t need to.”

  “Thank you for the compliments, but I’m guessing you didn’t invite me here just to offer praise.” She was a beautiful woman, with milky skin, light-brown hair, a perfect face, and a modest but fit figure.

  She flashed a perfect smile. Had I been younger and less experienced, she would have been the most tempting woman I had seen in the world.

  “I would like to discuss the terms of your joining my family’s household. Marriage with a branch line, someone like me, for example, is on the table, but it isn’t mandatory. We respect your wishes or existing obligations, if you have any…”

  She proceeded by listing amenities, annual stipends, resources, access to classified knowledge… The woman had either thoroughly profiled my personality, read me like a book as we spoke, or simply offered everything she could. Which eventually proved to be the case, when she started listing servants and retainers of my own.

  Her offer was good, but unfortunately, like every other contract with those more powerful than myself, she demanded my complete freedom in return. I would have freedom of movement within a designated area, such as a wing of their royal palace or a specific hunting spot to hone my skills, but I would be bound.

  “Thank you.” I stood and bowed again, deeper this time. “Unfortunately, I will have to refuse. My freedom is very important to me.”

  She nodded. “You should know that no royal family will give you your freedom. At least not the kind of freedom you are seeking. I am the king’s half-sister, and I don’t have any freedom. The more powerful you grow, the greater the shackles others will place on you.”

  I saw a blur of movement as she stood up from the table and approached me. She was well in my personal space, her lips against my ear, her body pressing against mine.

  “That said, we have some freedom. If you are interested, I can show you just how much fun we can have when we are unleashed.”

  Her breath was warm against my ear, and it made my skin crawl, besides other bodily reactions.

  Would it be that bad to just have a bit of fun?

  An old, familiar urge was rearing its ugly head, and I seriously considered it.

  “You’re beautiful,” Blunt said, the slut saying it to every woman nearly remotely triggering my instincts. Thankfully, the little bastard got me agitated, so I continued in a completely different direction. “But I am currently not interested.”

  It sounded weak, even to me, considering how fast my heart was beating and blood treacherously circulating through my body.

  To her credit, she stepped back respectfully, moving at a speed I could clearly follow, and nodded.

  “That’s all right. Have a pleasant evening, Grandmaster Dandelion. I hope you find someone who will meet your terms. If you do, please don’t forget me. I would love to have a private meeting with you when you are interested.”

  She kept the flirtiness in her voice, and I was proud of myself for leaving the room with my dignity mostly intact.

  Those were two. Will the others approach me as well?

  “Excuse me, Lord Blackfist,” the hostess approached me again, and it seemed that yes, it was the night for meeting royalty.