The next morning brought clear skies and an open road. Vel leaned against the window, watching the landscape pass outside the stagecoach. The journey had been uneventful since leaving Everfront—no obstacles or delays, just the steady rhythm of hooves and wheels.
The cleared road was empty, as Vel expected. In this world, no settlement survived unprotected. Abandoned huts lined the roadside—broken walls and fences, some crushed, others burnt—silent testimonies to those who had tried and failed to live beyond the safety of walls and guards.
Guard outposts lined the route, with soldiers monitoring their sections of road. Watchtowers perched on hilltops, their sentinels scanning for danger. Occasionally, they encountered other carriages and trading caravans returning home from Lona.
"We should reach the capital by sundown," Mora announced from her seat across from him. "Not ideal timing with the delay, but once we're inside Lona's walls, we'll be safe enough."
Vel nodded, shifting his attention to Celia and Hileya seated beside each other. After pestering him with questions about his magic for the first hour of the journey, they'd finally released him from their interrogation and found common ground in conversation about more mundane matters.
"—and that's why the folding technique is so important," Hileya was explaining, her hands mimicking the motion of folding linens. "It creates the proper corners for presentation."
"I never thought about it that way," Celia replied, genuinely interested. "At the orphanage, we just tried to finish quickly."
Their conversation shifted between domestic topics and occasional self-defense mentions, with Celia demonstrating small movements possible in the cramped coach.
Vel watched the interaction between Celia and Hileya, a thought slowly forming in his mind. After several minutes of contemplation, he leaned forward slightly.
"Hileya, have you ever thought about wielding a weapon?" he asked abruptly.
The half-elf looked up, surprised. "A weapon? No, I've never—"
"Never learned about fighting?" Vel finished for her.
Hileya shook her head, her silver braids swaying gently. "That wasn't part of my training as a maid."
Vel nodded thoughtfully. "Back in Elnor, you were relatively safe within Lady Halen's manor. But out here..." His mind flashed to the inn incident then the behemoth, how quickly things had escalated. "It's better to be safe than sorry."
He reached for his belt and loosened the sheath of the dagger Von had given him.
"How about. From now on, you will learn self-defense with me," Vel declared, extending the weapon toward her. "I can lend you this for now."
"I can help too," Celia chimed in quickly, shifting closer to them. Her sudden interest might have stemmed from not wanting to be left out—or perhaps from not wanting to leave Hileya and Vel alone together. "Everyone should know how to defend themselves."
Hileya hesitated, her eyes moving between the dagger and Vel's face. Finally, she reached out and took it, holding it awkwardly in her slender fingers. As the stagecoach hit a bump in the road, the weapon nearly slipped from her grasp.
"We'll need to find a way for you to properly carry it without ruining your outfit's aesthetic," Vel said, watching her fumble with the sheath.
"You could wear it on your thigh, with a strap," Celia suggested practically. "I know a thing or two about blade-carrying—like how the angle should be to not cut yourself when drawing it quickly."
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GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation
FantasyWhen renowned game developer Giri meets his untimely end, he awakens as twelve-year-old Vel in the magical realm of Aeonalus-his own creation. Five hundred years have passed since he crafted the world, and Vel finds himself in the village of Oakhave...
