Bog Standard Isekai

The trip to Prinnash was mostly peaceful and uneventful, even compared to the last couple months he’d spent in Blackcliff. Without a workshop or even enough space to get a good workout, he’d been forced to concentrate solely on his illusions. He spent most of his days sitting on the deck watching the movement of the ocean while threads and split minds worked on his magic, often summoning different shapes and colors inside his and Sion's cabin when it was empty.

He worked on his battle programs, mainly creating and integrating new strategies based off the new data he’d gotten from facing Zilly and Davi. That always gave him mixed emotions; he didn’t want to see anything good about the way they’d gone about their boneheaded send-off, but he already had a hundred ideas of things he could’ve done better and new spells he could try.

A lot of his time was spent in refining the spells he already had. He could summon his mirror men even faster now, as well as make them walk and move naturally.

Perhaps the most exciting development was the core of the Fire Jelly. He found he could pump truly extraordinary amounts of light magic into it and then release it all at once. He could store his entire Mana pool and then focus it all into heat, giving him a viable heat attack for the first time. Using the Language, he’d kind of been able to transform that light magic into a laser, but it had lost so much energy in the process that he’d barely been able to use it to light dry kindling on fire.

The breakthrough had come when on a port day he found a [Gemsmith] who could reshape the core into a cylinder that would fit into the laser he’d made. With the new core, the laser turned into a burning beam of light that could travel miles before dispersing in the atmosphere.

Better still, if he completely closed it off, he could pump the mirror with energy and then release it all at once, shooting a fairly powerful flame attack that moved at the literal speed of light.

If he really wanted to burn things, he could always make a big parabolic lens and hang it in the air, but those were hard to aim and weren’t really practical in a combat situation. The new laser was an ace in the hole.

Sion spent most of his time working in his room, but he always had time to chat or to play a board game when Brin went to see him. Rhun was restless to the point of being unbearably annoying. He challenged Brin to a duel at least once a day, and Brin complied about once a week. He beat the upstart [Warrior] every time.

For his part, Marksi spent most of his time in the ocean. It always made Brin’s heart leap to his throat when he saw the little dragon jump into the water, but Marksi was quick as a fish in the water. He took to making webs between his fingers and toes, and elongated his body again so that he could half swim and half wriggle through the water like an eel. He’d even started to move his eyes further to the sides of his head, but transformed back to normal after Sion told him it made him less handsome.

The Captain wasn’t happy the first time he saw Marksi jump off the ship, but was mollified when he came back with a big fish to share with the crew, especially since it meant he wasn’t killing any more cats.

There was one exciting day when Marksi returned with a Fire Jelly in his claws, but when Brin cut it open he found that this one didn’t have a beast core. Not all of them did; that was usually reserved for older, stronger beasts.

When they reached Aberquay, Rhun got drafted the second he stepped foot off the deck, to his obvious delight. Sion was given a writ that promised Rhun would return to duty as his body guard when the war ended, whenever that was.

In the meantime, Brin was good enough protection to get Sion from the docks to his family’s branch in town. Sion used the contacts of his family’s business to provide information on the state of the war and it quickly became clear that their original plan of sneaking past the army to get to Cadwy’s family would be near impossible. Sion worked out a plan anyway, but the trip would be overland, without a caravan, and take several months.

It would take less time to just find Galan’s Order, join a Lance, and then wait to find his half siblings until they were given some leave time. Brin decided that’s what they’d do.

The next leg of the journey was a military caravan. When Brin showed them Galan’s letter, they’d insisted on bringing him the entire way, though he wasn’t sure if that was for his safety or so that he couldn’t slip away.

They traveled through a long, wide valley that wrapped around a steep and circular mountain range that was completely dotted with stone forts and walls. He learned that Prinnash guarded the mountains very thoroughly, because the other side of the range was Arcaena’s territory. They insisted that there was nothing to worry about, though, because the mountain range was bigger than it first appeared. The few towns they passed on the way through seemed unbothered, but the caravan didn’t actually enter the towns so he didn’t get a chance to see how they really lived.

When they finally arrived at Galan’s Order, Brin knew it had to be the place because he knew the way his luck went. The castle was total garbage. It was so old and worn down that it was hard to even tell what it might have originally been built for. It might’ve been a cathedral, a reinforced keep, or an office building for all he knew. The main building was several stories tall and mostly intact, but the crumbling sides let him see straight into some of the outer rooms. There were the visible remains of wings built to the sides in a star pattern, but most of those were little more than the outline of walls on the ground. All sorts of tents and temporary shelters had been erected in their place.

The ancient keep looked farcical, but the army mustering below it looked very real. Rows of well-disciplined soldiers marched in ranks, running drills. There was a dizzying array of strange and miraculous weaponry, so much that Brin couldn’t begin to guess what all of it did. Well, no, he could guess. Those had to be siege towers, right? And trebuchets were pretty straight-forward, but there was also ballista and what looked like battering rams, except covered in arcane runes and magical gems that somehow made it look high-tech.

“This is it, sirs,” said a page from the caravan. The boy was pre-System Day, maybe eight or nine, so the army had him running errands. He was visibly relieved that Brin had actually followed him to report for duty and hadn’t tried to make a run for it. “The commander is just inside. I have to wait outside, though.” He gave Sion a significant glance.

“I should depart here as well,” said Sion.

Brin had seen this one coming from a mile away; Sion definitely wanted to meet Galan, but he’d slit his own wrists before asking Brin for a favor that big.

He grabbed Sion by the bicep and half guided, half shoved him along. “Nonsense. Until I’m sworn in, Galan is just a friend. No more, no less. I’m sure he’ll want to meet all my friends, though I seem to be running short on those lately.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly…” Sion couldn’t hide the growing grin and made no move to resist Brin’s bullying.

“You can. You wouldn’t force me to face a legendary [Knight] like Galan all on my own?”

“Well, if you insist,” said Sion, and Brin let him remove the hand on his arm.

Marksi scampered along in front of them as if he owned the place.

Inside the keep, they immediately drew stares. They were not dressed in servants livery and not in uniform, and Marksi stood out no matter where he went. Whenever someone looked like they were about to challenge him, Brin asked them for directions to Galan, and they’d given him directions to his office. The inside of the keep looked the same as the outside, all broken and decaying. Brin had to ask for directions three times, and it was actually Galan that found him.

The [Knight] saw him as soon as he turned a corner and his face lit up in a big smile. Galan was exactly the way Brin remembered. He dashed down the corridor and squeezed Brin in a hug.

“Brin, lad, look at you! You look… you look as if you’ve seen some trouble, with those scars. Lumina warned me about that, never fear. From what I hear, those are marks of valor! Bear them well. And who is this?”

“This is Marksi!” Brin said, lifting up the dragonling. Marksi chirped happily.

“A fine companion, I am sure! But who is your other friend?” Galan asked, patting Marksi on the head.

“Galan, meet my friend Sion Wogan,” said Brin. “He’s a [Merchant] and a brave man. He’s had my back through many dangers.”

Sion suddenly looked as if he had trouble speaking. Galan shook his hand. “Well met, friend. Wogan… do you know a High Lord Damisco?”

“Yes of course! I think of him as my very dear uncle!” said Sion. “He serves… that is to say, he owns–”

Galan held up a hand. “I know how Prinnash works. He serves the Wogan group as a figurehead.”

“Yes, but I do not lie when I say I think of him as my very dear uncle. In fact, this is one of the men I respect most in the entire world,” said Sion.

“We served together, fifteen years ago it must be, in the Downing Campaign,” said Galan.

“Indeed? And how could my dear uncle Damisco have neglected to share this with me? You must tell me the story, so that I might properly shame him when I see him next!” said Sion.

“I’d like that,” said Galan.

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A woman stepped out from around Galan. They’d probably been walking together, but she hadn’t decided to run forward when Galan had.

“This really is a main branch Wogan? And they just let you wander in here unescorted? Unbelievable. And to cap it all off, a dragon. For sure, great idea, [Knights] and dragons are famous for getting along so well!” She looked at Brin. “Next you’re going to tell me you’re a prince of Arcaena.”

Brin chuckled nervously. That was uncomfortably close to the truth.

“This is Brin the Mistaken. I told you about him. And yes, meet Sion Wogan. Sion, Brin, this is Lyssa, my adjunct,” said Galan.

Lyssa gave the sarcastic imitation of a curtsy. [Inspect] called her Lyssa Lethonen and said she was a [Lieutenant], but didn’t give much more than that. She had the affect of someone who didn’t care how people saw her, but Brin couldn’t help but notice she was dressed as cutely as a military uniform would allow. She was wearing a necklace and earrings, just enough makeup to look natural, and while he wasn’t an expert on women’s hairstyles by any means, he was pretty sure that her wavy, layered hair was meant to look simple and easy while actually being devilishly tricky to pull off.

She was attractive, all things told, but in a venomous manipulator sort of way. She sighed and said to Sion, “Well, if you’re here anyway then the damage is done. We should have a chat. You’re going to help me cut through some of this Prinnashian obstruction.”

Sion shrugged. “I will do what I can.”

In Sion-speak, Brin thought that meant that he saw a real opportunity here, but he didn’t want to be seen jumping on it too eagerly.

“Hey, whatever happened to that shipment of supplies we brought up here?” Brin asked. “The stuff we bought with all of Hogg’s money.”

“Sitting at port, due to the aptly-named Prinnashian obstruction,” said Sion.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Sion, maybe you could help with her stuff, and she could help with that?” Brin suggested.

“I suppose that’s fair,” said Lyssa.

Sion rubbed his hands together. “I’d be all too delighted! Establishing a working relationship with a new wealthy client from a foreign nation? Twist my arm, why don’t you?”

“I’d be all too delighted!” Lyssa said, mimicking Sion in a mocking tone. Then she actually did twist his arm, pushing him away and down the hall. “This way. We can start now.”

As she pushed Sion in front of her, walking away, she sashayed a bit. She definitely hadn’t been walking like that when she’d approached before. Yeah, Brin was certain of it now. She was totally into Galan.

“I apologize for her. She’s usually not so… assertive,” said Galan.

“No need. But what’s going on with her?” Brin asked. Hopefully Galan would just say that they were an item and he hadn’t just walked in on something complicated.

Galan looked pained for an instant. “It’s not my place to say. I’m not sure if she even knows that I know.” He looked away, seeming conflicted, and whispered so quietly that only Brin’s illusion magic let him hear, “But she must!”

Great. Brin had just walked in on something complicated. He’d have to dedicate a few Invisible Eyes to this mystery.

Galan shook his head. “Never mind. I apologize again. It truly is well to see you again, young man! Come! We have much to discuss.”

Brin worried things would be awkward with Galan. After all, he called him a friend, but in reality they’d hardly spent a full day together before they’d split up and hadn’t seen each other in more than a year. But Galan had a calm, soft-spoken manner that made him easy to talk to. They walked in a circuit around the fortress and Galan showed him around. The servants areas, the places where [Knights] trained, the general mess and the officer’s cafeteria. He showed Brin a room where he’d be staying, and warned him that once he was a part of a Lance, the accommodations would become drastically worse.

“When will that be?” Brin asked. “When am I joining a Lance, I mean?”

“That will depend on a few things. Most especially will be your own capabilities.”

“Right.” Brin nodded. “You want to see what I can do? Or would it be simpler if I were to read out my status sheet?”

Galan frowned, looking embarrassed. “A demonstration would be most welcome. You… you know you shouldn’t offer to read your status to everyone who asks.”

Brin shrugged. “You’re not everyone, Galan.”

That seemed to mollify him. Galan said, “I thank you, then, for the confidence, but there is no need.”

He felt a little bad, because he hadn’t actually intended to read his full status. He would tell Galan he was an [Illusionist] if he could be absolutely certain no one would overhear, but he didn’t want to tell anyone else, especially not Lyssa. If he was really going to survive in a Lance, then he needed his comrades to trust him, and it was hard to trust an [Illusionist]. It would be better if they thought he was a [Warrior] who could control glass.

Galan led him to a larger room that might’ve been a ballroom in ages past but now had turned into a training room and sparring arena. A few men were already practicing, and there was a crowd off to the side, but no one looked twice at Galan and Brin when they entered, except to salute at their commander before going back to what they were doing.

“So what did you have in mind?” Brin asked.

“You favor the spear, correct? Perhaps show me the spear form, and then we can think about finding a sparring partner for you,” said Galan.

“Sure,” said Brin. He’d had to leave his Bog Standard spear outside the fortress, obviously, so he selected one from a rack. Its blade was dull, which was fine. “Do you mind if I…? It’s better if my weapons are at least partially glass.”

“Do as you will,” said Galan.

Brin pushed some mana into it, covering the spearhead with a thin layer of glass. Then he gave a small wince as he split a quarter of his mind off from the rest, so that he’d be able to run some threads without speeding up time. He stepped back and stood with his legs far apart and his arms out wide.

Main: run Ironman_ver1.5

Task Manager: Summoning glass armor

Since his Task Manager was now another mind inside his own head, he could feel it work. Lately, it was hard to think of it as a separate mind at all, and more like what it should be. It was him. It was all him, and he was simply able to think about more than one thing at once now.

He summoned some quick pieces of glass, letting the Directed Threads follow the optimal patterns he’d long since drilled into them. Pieces of arm guards rose into the air, paultrons, a breastplate, and armored pieces on his thighs and shins. They didn’t come close to covering him fully, and that didn’t matter since protection wasn’t the main point.

The main point was movement. Now that each of these pieces of armor were controlled by a Directed Thread who already knew their orders, they could work together to make him stronger.

He started the spear form, and the armor moved with him, making him stronger and faster, pushing against him to halt momentum and even gravity when necessary. He could turn sharper, move one part of the spear form was a long jump and stab, and when he did it, his armor pushed him along in the air, giving him a twelve-foot leap that was as easy as jumping from the curb onto the street had been in his past life.

When he finished, he noticed that a few of the soldiers had turned to watch, and felt a bit of satisfaction. He didn’t know if his raw physical stats were up to snuff with a [Knight] his age, but he felt confident that his physical stats being bolstered by his Magic would be good enough to get by.

Galan was stroking his chin and nodding. “Yes. Yes, I believe you’ll do quite nicely. Your Magic must be truly staggering to be able to summon that much glass so quickly.”

“I do my best,” Brin said with a nod, though sweat dripped down his back. That hadn’t actually put much of a dent in his Mana, but it was still the upper limit of what a [Glasser] should be able to do in an entire day. He could only hold so much Mana because of [Mana Well] and his extra magic per level from [Illusionist].

“Despite your strong magic, it seems like your physical stats aren’t far behind. Any Lance will be lucky to have you.”

“Did you want to see a spar?” Brin asked.

“No need. But perhaps you can show me one more thing,” said Galan. “Try tossing the spear against one of the dummies. At full power, if you please.”

Brin could do that. This is what his fake [Glass Invocationist] was supposed to be good at, after all. He ended all the threads working to put magic into his armor, and then started concentrating on his spear. He summoned more glass onto the head, making it thicker and longer, and then when he was confident it was big enough to hold a sufficient amount of magic, he started chanting.

“” He threw the spear with all his might the seconds that the spell started to take hold, and together both physical strength and magic propelled the spear with incredible power.

It landed like a missile. Both spear and target exploded in a shower of splinters.

A few of the soldiers applauded, and more than a couple glared at him angrily while picking splinters out of their skin.

“Yes, I know just the place for you,” said Galan.

Despite saying that, it was five more days until Galan found the place for him.

Brin spent the time waiting in abject boredom. With no official posting, he wasn’t quite a soldier and wasn’t quite a guest. He ate with Galan, Lyssa, and Sion in the officer’s cafeteria, which was the high point of his day, since the rest of his time was spent idle. He could spar with the soldiers, but he could tell his uncertain classification made them uncomfortable and they didn’t really want him there. He could stay in Galan’s office, but Galan was gone most of the time, coordinating the upcoming invasion with the other leaders. Lyssa and Sion let him sit in on their discussions, but there wasn’t much he could add.

His one saving grace was a stack of books Galan dropped off in his rooms. They were titled Military Codes of Disciplines of The Knightly Orders of Olland, split into five volumes. They were a great introduction into what Brin’s life would be like in the Order, but they were dry. The only way he could convince himself to read them was to split his mind into four and take turns, but splitting too much meant he couldn’t understand anything.

As a break from that, he spent more time than he probably should have using Invisible Eyes to spy on everyone. The fortress had defenses against such things, of course, but since he was already inside he was able to get past most of them. It was sort of like cybersecurity in his old world. It was a lot of work to secure a computer against hacking over the internet, but it was near impossible to stop a hacker who had physical access.

He tried to figure out what was going on with Lyssa, but didn’t make much progress other than catching her throwing wistful glances at Galan when he wasn’t looking. The reports on her desk were mostly logistics and requisition reports, nothing that would point to a diabolical plot. She didn’t launch into a Disney villain monologue song the second she was alone in her room, and she also didn’t fiddle with her hair while singing a love song and gazing at Galan’s framed picture. Brin didn’t make it a habit of watching women while they were alone in their rooms too often, so maybe it happened while he wasn’t watching.

His spying at least let him know what the delay was. Galan wanted to put together a high-powered super Lance of all the best men from Olland, so that he could be sure Brin would be safe no matter where they were called.

The Lance that was currently being formed was not that Lance. It was to be led by a moderately-talented [Knight] whose career was being held down by his hotheaded wildcard of a best friend. Prinnash had insisted on filling the rest of the team, and they’d filled it with losers. So Galan was trying to delay and put Brin on the next Lance after that, though questions were being asked about what Brin was doing here at all.

No one told Brin about the insane duel and the death of two men, but of course he’d been watching it all with an Invisible Eye. It was a stark reminder that the world he was stepping into would be much harsher and less forgiving than Hammon’s Bog had been.

Two days after that, a harried and exhausted-looking Galan called Brin into his office, which was worrying, because Brin was pretty sure Galan was immune to getting tired.

Without preamble, Galan said. “Let me ask simply. Shall I put you where I want you, or where I need you?”

All things considered, he’d love to be on the super Lance that Galan dreamed of, but he didn’t know if that was ever coming. He was sick of waiting.

“I’ll go where you need me,” said Brin.

Galan frowned and nodded. “Then so be it. Brin isu Yambul, from this moment on I am your superior officer. You will salute me. You will stand at attention. You will address me as sir.”

Brin stood up straight and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s time to meet your new Lance.”