Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Chapter 27: Tales of the Lost Otherworlder

Wenlianna stares idly at the rough, imperfect, carbon-scored diamond in her fingers. It represents the first of a wild string of successes that have all but singularly boosted the Grand Duchy of Stalvaltan to a level of wealth competing with the Empire itself, let alone any of the other kingdoms. Although, waging the suppression of the revolution in Bromlund quickly made use of much of that wealth, the Stalvaltan territory was now more influential and more powerful than ever.

And, all of it starts with a single, man-made diamond.

No… she thought. It started much earlier than that. 

She'll likely never forgive him. The King Regent from the same world as Daniel, King Rikuto Tachibana, sent Daniel to the edge of the world. He sent him to the very front lines of the war with the demons. And, he did so to pacify noble fathers and sons who only saw Princess Erimaya as a thing to besmirched by the hands of another man, rather than a life that Daniel saved through techniques his world teaches to children where practical. 

And now, several months later, the news has finally reached them.

Daniel faces off against a dragon and its vanguard alone and hasn't been seen since.

Aramellianna's intelligence forces weren't fast enough to reach Fort Peony before it was evacuated, and they naturally stayed at the main garrison to aid in shoring defenses in preparation for desperately holding off the dragon… only for it to never arrive.

Given that there were no signs of the dragon being felled by the otherworlder, and no signs of his death being put on display, it’s entirely possible they knew of his otherworldly status and took him prisoner. Just as Wenlianna and so many in the kingdom and the Grand Duchy had their lives vastly improved, Daniel’s wisdom could accelerate the demons the same number of decades or centuries ahead of where they are now, if given the time and resources. 

And, given how he was treated both in the kingdom and more importantly at the fort, it’s entirely possible he advertised his otherwolder status the moment the vanguard arrived, and some in the intelligence branch believe he even may have done so in exchange for ceasing the invasion, given what they all knew about his personality. While this is noble at face value, the detriments of the demons gaining access to the technology inside Daniel’s brain are potentially unfathomable. Especially if the dragons can be made truly invincible through his efforts. It already takes an army to defeat a single dragon -and only the dragon itself-. And, that’s still if they’re lucky to begin with. A dragon armed with something Daniel could create…

Or worse, the rest of the demon army becoming as tough or comparable to dragons…

Wenlianna squeezes her hand around the diamond, praying softly. Daniel wouldn't try to harm anyone. If he did agree to go willingly, she has no doubt he did so with the truest of good intentions. 

Strangely, though, the Dawnseer died suddenly in her sleep after crying out in agony for a long moment, unable to be awakened. Given the stream of worsening visions involving the man wielding a terrifying magic staff slaying a dragon and allying with death itself before ‘erasing the horizon’, it was likely an even more clear vision of the same events. Unfortunately, there is no way to know for certain if the visions are related to Daniel or Rikuto, or to someone else now that she’s passed on. They were originally summoned to this world BECAUSE the Dawnseer began having the premonition. But, it seems even attempting to divert a river can be the exact path to the flood to be avoided. 

It’s possible the Dawnseer didn’t prevent the premonition; she directly played into it coming true. And, unfortunately, it could have been that realization that caused the Dawnseer to not awaken ever again.

Regardless, Wenlianna is not a particularly superstitious person. She understands magic has many capabilities beyond natural limits. However, the future is something dubious at best. To believe one can clearly see the future, and then alter it, is to assume one can move all of the water out of the ocean. Physically, it should be possible, but it isn’t practical in the slightest. There is nowhere to put the water of the ocean. And, likewise, there is nowhere to put all of the possibilities of the future and claim with certainty that it can be controlled in any meaningful way. The premonition is either accurate, but unpreventable in the sense that doing nothing could just as likely have caused it as doing something. Perhaps the Demon Queen would have been the one to attempt a divine summoning if the kingdom hadn’t. Perhaps the Empire. Perhaps it could have been spontaneous. If Daniel or Rikuto actually are the subject of the premonition, then their hostility could be easily rationalized, having been yanked to this world out of the blue with no obvious way to return to their world. If the premonition is depicting Daniel or Rikuto, it’s a rod of their own making for the world that dragged them in. 

Knock knock knock.

Wenlianna jumps a little, pulled from her ponderings by a knock at the door. She states with her dulled tone, “Enter…”

The door opens, revealing the head maid. She bows, stating, “My Lady, the Grand Duchess has asked for you to come to the reception room.”

“What is it?” asks Wenlianna, her once-vibrant personality dulled by the absence that grows heavier by the day.

“She would not say. She instructed me to inform you, my Lady, that she will be perturbed if she has to come get you herself.”

Wenlianna sighs. Once upon a time, she and her mother had a rather benign neglect for each other. Wenlianna has never been a noble at heart; she’s a scientist and a dreamer. Daniel’s arrival, specifically, exacerbated her proclivities towards reclusive behavior in her research. And, her mother allowed all of it. Powerful mages can circumvent many of the stigmas and drawbacks to maturing beyond the normal marrying age in most cases, or they end up never seeking marriage and children to begin with. Knowing she could never stop her eldest daughter’s obsession, Aramellianna stayed out of her way, and even enabled her.

But then, since Wenlianna’s retirement from the Royal Court and Daniel’s arrival at the estate, Aramellianna has been more insistently more intrusive into Wenlianna’s day-to-day. Though, the spirit of her obsession has definitely lowered, so…

The young former Court Magic Artisan sighs. She has no reason to object. She wasn’t doing anything productive anyways. Most of her current projects are either on hold or ‘cooking’ themselves, such as diamonds, which take time to form while under the appropriate conditions. She’s been making a mix of large and small diamonds of blue and white, making magic crystals and jewelry as appropriate.

Wenlianna makes her way into the reception room of the estate, where messengers and guests are generally guided to for making announcements to the Grand Duchess and her family and retainers. She curtsies politely in her lab smock, as there’s an audience that isn’t just her mother and sisters. “Grand Duchess, please excuse the delay.”

Aramellianna waves her over casually, “Drop all that and come over here, Wenlianna. There’s something we need you to look at.”

Wenlianna nods obediently and walks over. The apparent soldier of the Stalvaltan Reconnaissance Corps, ‘Wyrmeyes’, presents an object to Wenlianna. Her eyes widen. Daniel left his ‘cell phone’ behind and had shown her how to operate it. She’s still translating his language, and it appears there are more than just a single language present on his device, but as long as she keeps it charged and doesn’t break it, it is a precious source of wisdom.

And, one of the things that he mentioned he hoped he would never make… She recognizes the small, single-ended tube. She snatches it from the soldier, and she inspects it. It was obviously handmade, but it matches the exact design of the gold-colored metal objects that feed the weapon Daniel was reluctant to make. Her eyes begin to water, and she sharply asks, “WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS!?”

The soldier recoils a little in shock from the sudden spark of passion coming from the small woman. Her sudden flash of emotion is surprising, though her obvious small frame is no threat to the seasoned soldier. “My Lady, this was found on the western wall of Fort Peony, near where the wall had been melted.”

Wenlianna starts to scramble towards her lab, but she halts herself when she realizes she’s still in mixed company expecting her input on what it is. She flinches in several directions as her brain tries to summon an answer to her burning question. She flinches and then uses a trick he taught her; her index finger knuckle is close. She gapes in surprise. 

Aramellianna asks, “What is it, Wenlianna? Use your words.”

“Th-This is a trick he taught me to make basic estimations for measurement. He once told me about a weapon in his world that could attack at range, but wasn’t a bow or ballista, could penetrate stone, metal armor, and even possibly… dragon scale. But, the diameter of a bullet would be about half an index knuckle…” She demonstrates her makeshift measurement. The opening of the casing was almost as wide as her index knuckle. And, the tube itself was as long as her hand from fingertip to wrist.

“What are you saying, Wenlianna?” asks the Grand Duchess with a sense of seriousness in her tone.

“The best way to explain it is… this is like an arrow for Daniel’s weapon. Or rather, the bowstring to propel the arrow.” She looks at Aramellianna, saying with her own tone of seriousness. “An arrow built by an otherworlder hoping to be able to penetrate dragonscale, if he needed to.”

Everyone in the room is surprised by this statement; military advisors to the Grand Duchess, her equivalent to a Prime Minister, other advisors and leading soldiers, and the Wyrmeyes advanced recon soldiers who had been the ones to search Fort Peony thoroughly for signs of Daniel. They had been able to send messages back to the Grand Duchy, but they only just returned, allowing them to show the peculiar item that no one at the fort could identify, other than that Daniel had made it.

Only Wenlianna had seen one, and only in picture form, in Daniel’s phone, which only she knows about or how to use.

The Prime Minister remarks quietly, “If… that is part of his dragon slaying weapon, then…”

Aramellianna nods as she too, agrees with the building notion. “Yes. Who died, and who departed westward after?”

Wenlianna squeezes the shell casing as she holds it to her chest, tears forming in her eyes. Once more, her hope has been renewed. This is almost as good as a letter from Daniel himself. If he made a dragonslaying weapon, then… The reason the dragons never attacked further…

A small smile spreads across her lips. She murmurs in reply to her mother and the Prime Minister, “He’s alive.”

***

“HOW COULD HE STILL NOT BE FOUND!?” The Dragon Lord boomed, and his voice rumbled the castle. All present, including the handful of surviving dragons, flinch in fear. In thousands of years, there have only been two dragons slain in the entirety of their history prior to the Dragon Lord’s brother’s disappearance. Dragons struggle to raise hatchlings to adolescence, let alone adulthood. Their abilities, lacking control, are just as dangerous to a dragon’s own self as to their enemies. Venoms can kill in seconds, flames can melt flesh and scale, and teeth can pierce and tear. Many hatchlings accidentally kill themselves long before they gain the intelligence or wisdom to control their own powers.

As such, their number are few, but their lives are long. At present, there are twelve dragons, not including the Lord’s brother and the Green Forest Dragon who was collecting tribute from various villages. 

Witnesses saw the Lord’s Brother slain with their own eyes, and torture and magic proved they weren’t lying.

And, as if to add depth to this mystery, the Green Dragon, and the second eldest dragon in existence, has disappeared. He was merely collecting tribute from villages of lesser races, including the felines, some lesser demon races, and sacrifices from the goblins. However, around half of the villages reported turning in their tribute, while others desperately pleaded for mercy, as he had never arrived at the normal time.

The servants kneeling before the Dragon Lord say nothing. There is no excuse to be made. Nothing would satisfy the powerful, aggressive red dragon as he paces in place in fury. Flames swirl from his mouth and his skin begins to glow in lines between his scales.

He wasn’t only searching for news of this “Apostle of Despair”, but the Green Dragon as well. Both haven’t been seen in weeks, and the disappearance of a second dragon can only likely mean one thing.

Smoke and fire bursts in puffs from the Lord’s mouth as he roars, “FIND THIS APOSTLE AND KILL HIM! BRING THE SHATTERED REMAINS BEFORE ME!”

The servants nod and dash away. The Lord paces again in impotent fury. There’s nothing he can do. With the ability to kill a dragon, the apostle’s magic power should be off the charts. Other than the dragons gathered in his mountain stronghold, the Demon Queen, the feral Feldrok, a frail elderly leaf-eared human in the east, and a sea creature slumbering deep in the inaccessible depths are all that he can sense from their magic sources who even remotely compare to himself, other than the Devourer, but that last one goes without saying. 

This ‘Apostle of Despair’ exists. Of that, the Dragon Lord is certain. Otherwise, his own brother would still be alive. That his body is being defiled by those filthy humans… It makes his skin hiss with searing heat.

Regardless, he cannot make a move until he can find and destroy this wretched sorcerer. They can’t afford to lose any more dragons, especially given that he and one other are the last surviving males, and the remaining ten dragons are all female.

“My Lord…” It was the eldest dragon female, the Pearlescent Dragon, shimmering like a star in daylight. She is mature and reserved, as well as wise. Unfortunately, she is no warrior the way some of the others are.

“What?” snarls the Lord.

“I think… it is in our best interest to consider the possibility…”

“WHAT POSSIBILITY!?”

“The possibility that we may… need to negotiate with this Apostle…”

His eyes nearly burst from the sudden pressure he feels in all of his body. He flashes close to her, snarling with a dark smoke rolling from his mouth. “You DARE suggest such a pathetic idea? This CREATURE is nothing more than a human. A lowly mammal with a lifespan of but a mere blink. I would NEVER debase the great dragon race so low.”

She doesn't flinch. She is the only one who didn’t, even considering she was the target of his motion. He didn’t harm her, and perhaps, some deep part of her knew that he couldn’t actually afford to do so.

As such, her reply nearly shatters the castle itself from how sharp, cold, and impudent it is. “Then, being debased by being slain is acceptable?”

The air seems to turn cold. The Lord has no reply. His jaw begins to waver as his anger and stupefaction swirl through his mind. 

He snarls in a low voice, barely containing the actual rage threatening to roil out of his body. “If you speak these words again, I will kill you. Do not test me.”

She bows her head without a word.

The Orange Dragon, one of the middle seniority dragons, but youngest of the greater dragons, speaks cautiously, “My Lord, my servants have mentioned the lesser races murmuring of something that… may displease…”

“Out with it,” growls the Dragon Lord, not yet taking his anger-filled gaze on the Pearlescent Dragon.

“There is a being the lesser races are calling the ‘Feldrok Sorcerer’, my Lord.”

The Dragon Lord snaps his gaze to her, and Amber Dragon, his primary mate, nods in agreement. “I have heard the same, My Lord…” murmurs the last surviving male. “It is likely this ‘Feldrok Sorcerer’ is the Apostle.”

The Dragon Lord thinks for only a moment. “Round up anyone who has mentioned the Feldrok Sorcerer and bring them here. GO!”

The dragons bow, as well as their servants, and they all retreat from the Dragon Lord’s den.

He stares out at the land far below their mountain. Somewhere out there is a being somehow related to the Feldroks, and yet…

It’s impossible. Soon, even the last of the Feldroks will be… No. It’s a bluff. This being will prove to be nothing more than a human.

***

It’s a last ditch effort. She has lost him. Not that she ever had a bead on him, since she never realized he had been summoned until it was too late. But, she needs to find her lost summon. She has to make her mistake right.

Ryukana knows she is stained with this mistake for the rest of all eternity. She’ll never forgive herself, and she doesn’t expect anyone else to either. Least of all does she expect Daniel’s forgiveness. She hasn’t had a moment’s rest since she learned of it. She has been scouring everywhere she could; tracing every little clue she could find. She found the Chi’rinnis town, but they feigned ignorance. The same happened at a village of the tiger-like Dattakoriens. She could tell that his name prompted a reaction, but he had more loyalty than the suspicion she garnered, even taking the forms of each respective race. It took her days to find each of the villages, but knowing that they became especially suspicious of her when she mentioned Daniel’s name proves he’s still alive, or was recently enough to have come to these villages.

The problem now, is…

“Where is he… I can’t let this go on. Come forth, my faithful Observers.”

Ryukana waves her hand. She’s standing on the precipice of the mountain. Neither the cold nor the lower oxygen will have any effect on her or the Observers.

And, in an instant, all twelve of her Observers materialize around her. “Yes, My Lady.”

“Command us, and it shall be done.”

She hesitates. This is it. If I admit it now, everyone will learn of… NO! I WILL make this right. Finding my lost summon is far more important.

She clears her throat and straightens her posture. “My Loyal Observers; there is a crisis I have been trying to keep quiet, but it appears to be beyond my power.” All of them look up in shock with wide eyes. They flinch, quickly looking back down.

She adds a surprising revelation, “No. You have every right to be surprised. I have made a grave mistake. Daniel’s summoning was not according to plan. I was careless with the summoning power and pulled him in while summoning Rikuto. As… you undoubtedly know, I spoke to Rikuto, gained his acceptance, assigned him appropriate abilities, and transferred him. However, Daniel… I had no idea he had transferred until… it was brought up to me at that time I asked you about him.”

The Observers were silent. A few shared silent glances, mostly with those across from each other where it would be subtle enough not to be noticed.

“Think what you want. Say what you want. Tell whom you want. But first, I need your help. I need help finding him. I have no way of finding him through my power. I don’t know why. I have lost his trail, and he’s in dangerous territory. As a human in the territory he’s in, he’s likely to be killed the instant he’s spotted. So, please…” She bows to the Observers, causing them to recoil in shock. “Please help me find him and return him to his world safely. I need your help. I need to search.”

There’s a long, awkward silence. The gods and goddesses were exactly that because they were divine. To have made such a mistake, and then to admit to it on behalf of a mortal…

Gram declares without a hint of doubt after the awkwardness threatens to grow into a tangible being, “Leave the search to us, My Lady.”

The others quickly snap into unison, proving an unfaltering loyalty in spite of their confusion and concern. “Yes, allow us, My Lady.” “We shall find him.” “I dedicate my being to protecting the displaced hero, My Lady.” “I do as well.” One after the other, all twelve of the Observers pledge their all to finding and recovering Daniel.

Ryukana sighs in what little relief she can scrounge. “Thank you all. While I need you not to destabilize this world through any offensive intervention if possible, I permit you to use any stealth and defensive strategies available to you to find and retrieve Daniel of Earth. His safety is of the utmost priority."

All twelve Observers confirm once more, "Yes, My Lady!"

"Go forth, and I, too, shall continue the search."

They bow once more, vanishing into thin air. Ryukana stares out over the vast lands of the ‘Demon Wildlands’ as this world’s denizens call them. She can see a massive black stain on the land far to the west, as if the very land itself is being consumed. It’s likely related to whatever threat the people of this world tried to perform the specialized magic in the first place. Some worlds are secretly given the secret to performing a summoning ritual to help keep their world stable.

She murmurs softly, trying to listen to the world as a whole. “Daniel… Please be okay. Tell me where you are, and I shall come.”

Suddenly, as she listened quietly, a sound that doesn’t belong in this world yet rang out and echoed through the sky, reaching the ears of the goddess. From this distance, it was little more than a sharp double-crack with a long trailing echo.

The world Rikuto and Daniel come from, Earth, had ranged weapons that send a projectile at supersonic speeds using a small explosion. Those two distinct cracks were the supersonic crack of the explosion, followed instantly by the bullet itself breaking the sound barrier, or vice versa, depending on the direction of the shot and which one’s supersonic report was reaching her the sliver of a second sooner.

Somewhere in this world, a firearm -a big one by the sound of it- was just fired. She scans the relative direction desperately.

OBSERVERS!

Yes, my Lady. We heard. We shall search diligently in that direction.

Good. Please do. And hurry. If he’s moving,... She trails off her telepathic thought. If he’s on the move again, and they don’t find his trail, they’re not the only ones who might find him thanks to his weapons.

***

She has always been a slave. That will never change. She is pathetic and weak and ugly. She heard that every day since she was a tiny child. She’ll never understand.

All she does understand is that if she is killed in this place, no one will care. No one will remember her.

The Citadel is a massive structure, and its interior is like a labyrinth simply because of its massive size and interior darkness. It’s said that the Citadel was once the fortress of the Feldroks, and the ancient beings gave the structural technology to the humans and other races. Humans and dwarves were the two races specifically that made prolific use of the designs, as war-mongering races that they are. 

But, there are statues and other decorations scattered all around the Citadel, indicating the castle didn’t serve only the purpose of war.

However, it’s dark. Very dark. Her own eyes adjusted, but it’s still hard to see across the hallways, let alone from one end to the other. Her rusted and worn-down sword is stained with blood now, the remnants of the few weak creatures she was able to defeat; a handful of feral goblins and imps, bog crabs in the few water pools around the cavernous castle, and some kind of frail, human-looking creature that was more emaciated and underfed than she is.

Fortunately, she’s stronger than they all were, but she’s far from the strongest being in the fortress.

Now, her sword is all she has. She’s panting and trying to catch her breath, and her stomach burns with hunger as her dry throat scratches at her senses. She can’t leave the Citadel, especially since she made it finally. She was given orders to conquer the Citadel, and now that she’s entered its perimeter, the effect of the enslavement spell will prevent her from leaving, as that would be a violation of her orders. She must fight until she is victorious or die.

She was going to eat one of the feral goblins, but a towering ogre appeared and caught her off guard, slamming her in the shield and shattering it once and for all. She was able to scramble away, but the ogre set to eating the creature she had just killed, just like all the other times. Every creature she defeated in the Citadel seemed to attract more, and stronger creatures, and she couldn’t defeat them. Not with her original strength, and not with her diminishing strength now that she’s starving and exhausted.

Desperation starts to claw at her mind. She is currently spying on the ogre as it lumbers around, dragging its massive club. Her arm still aches fiercely. It’s probably broken and useless to her now. Her tail is a giant ball of fur, but it can give her some defensive protection if she’s fast about putting it between herself and an attack, but like anything else, it’s tattered and weak with her poor health and nutrition.

Her eyes water in anger and sadness as she watches the ogre enviously and hatefully. 

So enviously and hatefully, she loses control of her anger, and she screams as she runs towards it. She tries to jam her sword into its spine, but it turns, surprised by her charge. It batters her aside with a single swing of its club. She screams as she slams into the wall nearby.

She struggles to rise to her feet. Her orders compel her to. She has to conquer the Citadel or die. Until then, she has to fight.

She slumps to the ground, losing what little strength she had. She pants as she watches the giant lumber towards her slowly with its stupid grin on its face.

“Aren’t you a big bastard…?” remarks a male voice from nearby with sarcasm in his voice.

Just as both she and the ogre look, a medium-sized figure between the three of them jumps in, spearing a sword of his own into the ogre’s neck. He is quick to slash to the side, using his weight, and he intentionally slips under its club-arm as it tries to swing in reflex at its attacker.

The newcomer wrenches his sword from the otherside, using the ogre’s backswing for additional leverage and strength as it now tries to swing back across and pivot.

Its own strength helps the warrior and carves through its neck, taking its head clean off.

The lifeless body of the ogre slams to its knees before her, and then flops to the ground next to her as the head rolls like a stone a few yards away.

The newcomer straightens himself and looks around, like he’s listening. Or,... Can he not see very well?

Her eyes widen once more. A… human? That… staff… it’s so… strange…

With that, she loses strength and falls unconscious.

***

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