"My name is Thereon Snowstride, and I fought with your father in Lunaris. I am sorry for your loss."

  The words should have meant something. They should have stirred some connection to this world Albrecht had found himself in. But all they did was cement the cold weight of dread in his stomach.

  He wasn't the man Thereon thought he was. And if that fact came to light…

  Thereon exhaled as he sheathed his sword. The golden letters etched into the blade shimmered briefly before vanishing beneath the scabbard.

  He continued to study Albrecht, his sharp eyes missing nothing. Then, almost as an afterthought, he asked:

  "Did you not receive Vance's letter? I assumed you already knew, but judging by that expression, I take it you never got it."

  Albrecht forced his face into something resembling composure.

  'Think. Don't act lost. Don't let him suspect.'

  His heart was still pounding, but he straightened his posture, willing himself to breathe evenly. If Thereon was dangerous enough to kill three men in the blink of an eye, Albrecht needed to handle this carefully. A single misstep could be fatal.

  "Yes, you're right," he said at last, forcing a steadier tone. "I never got the letter. What happened to him?"

  It was the safest response he could think of. A son should want to know about his father's death. If he played this right, he might learn enough to survive whatever he had been thrown into.

  Thereon watched him for a moment longer, as if weighing something, then nodded.

  "Of course," he said, his voice softer now. "Let's talk, kid."

  Thereon sat down in the chair one of the dead thugs had been using. He shrugged off his coat, revealing a build that was still solid with muscle despite his years. Then he began to speak.

  "Your father, Vance, died roughly 1 month ago. He was fighting against the rebelling dwarfs at Lunaris. He was fulfilling his duty as a mage of Valoria. From what I could gather, they were only a small force of around 50 men to crush a simple uprising. No real Valorian army, no high-ranking commanders. Just your father and a handful of mercenaries meant to put down a rebellion."

  Albrecht swallowed his unease and slid a mug of beer across the counter. His hands trembled slightly, but he kept listening.

  "They must have assumed that it would be an easy victory. But the dwarves had a trump card: an exiled group of dragons."

  Albrecht's heart skipped a beat. "Dragons?" He tried not to sound too shocked, but the very idea of it felt impossible.

  Thereon let out a tired chuckle, shaking his head.

  "Not the big ones you hear about in legends, but dangerous enough. Green-scaled, sharp-eyed, and smart. They weren't supposed to be there, but somehow, the rebels must have convinced them to fight."

  Albrecht's grip on the counter tightened. Dragons. Mages. A whole fantasy battlefield. This was nothing like the world he knew.

  "The mercenaries weren't hired to fight dragons," Thereon continued. "Most of them ran. Can't say I blame them. They signed up to put down a rebellion, not face a bunch of fire-breathing lizards."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "What happened next?"

  "Your father was a mage of Valoria. That meant he served at the Emperor's pleasure. He wasn't forbidden from using his magic, but he needed permission."

  Albrecht narrowed his eyes. "Permission? Even in battle?"

  Thereon gave a slow, knowing nod.

  "That's how it works for Valorian battle mages. Their magic is an extension of the Emperor's power. It's not just a rule. The emperor restricts them from using magic with his or, in most cases, borrowed authority."

  He further added:

  "The battlefield showed no traces of human magic, so as far as I can tell, he was never allowed to use his magic. He was killed without putting up a fight."

  "But why would the emperor do that?"

  Thereon exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable.

  "Impossible to say for sure. Maybe the Emperor simply wanted him dead. Maybe there was a deal with the dwarves. Or maybe there's something else we don't know about."

  Albrecht forced himself to stay composed, but the thought of dragons, mages, swordsmen, and some kind of conspiracy was simply overwhelming. Also, the relationship between Vance, this body's father, and Thereon was unclear.

  'Were they comrades? Friends? Rivals?' he thought.

  Whatever they had been to each other, Thereon seemed to trust him, or at least trust who he thought he was. And maybe, just maybe, Albrecht should trust him in return.

  He took a quiet breath and finally spoke.

  "Could I… learn from you?" His voice came out steadier than he felt.

  "My father never taught me magic. We didn't see each other much, especially in the last few years."

  Thereon watched him with unreadable eyes. Albrecht tried not to shift under the scrutiny, but the silence stretched unbearably long. He forced himself to stay still, even as nerves twisted in his gut.

  Then, at last, Thereon exhaled and spoke.

  "Are you sure you want someone like me teaching you?" His tone was calm, but there was something heavy beneath the words.

  "I won't pretend to know what your father had in mind for you… but if he wanted you to be a mage, then perhaps you should study at a magic academy."

  He straightened slightly, his sharp gaze lingering on Albrecht.

  "I'm a Swordman, so I can only offer swordsmanship. Maybe a few elementary spells. Nothing more. You should definitely think about it before making the decision. I will stay until tomorrow."

  Albrecht didn't expect to be disappointed by this. In fact, Therion's desire to teach him was good news.

  But he had actually hoped to learn magic, maybe because of books he had read on Earth or the story about Vance. On the other hand, the thought of one's own magic being restricted didn't sound that great.

  He had no one else. And Thereon seemed strong, even if Albrecht could only compare him to the three thugs he effortlessly killed.

  Compared to Earth, Thereon would obviously be something like a superhuman. So Reinhard couldn't afford to be picky.

  "Thank you, Thereon. I'll think about it. Also, you can have the best room. It's the least I can do after you saved my life."

  Thereon nodded. "That will do."

  Albrecht exhaled quietly, masking his relief.

  Thereon stood up, stretching slightly before stepping toward the door.

  "I'll be back this evening. Think it over, Albrecht."

  Albrecht stiffened. That name.

  'It can't be a coincidence that my name here is the same as on Earth.'

  As the old man stepped out, the door creaked shut behind him, but Albrecht barely noticed. His thoughts swirled.

  A ripple of unease crawled through him, mixing with the countless unanswered questions clawing at his mind.

  'Is this some kind of reincarnation? A cruel trick? The afterlife?'

  He didn't know. But he was determined to find out.

  Outside, dawn was breaking, golden light spilling through the tavern shutters in soft, scattered beams. It should have felt comforting.

  But It didn't.

  Albrecht exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drifting to the bloodstains still streaking the wooden floor, along with the dead bodies.

  The day stretched ahead of him, directionless, uncertain. He had no roadmap, no guide to this world.

  For now, all he could do was move forward.

  And hope that trusting Thereon wasn't a mistake.