Matthew gave Aidan a brief glance, his eyes softening just a bit. "Rest for now, Aidan—you won't get the chance once we reach the Dark Forest," he said, his tone more gentle than usual.
After a short pause, he added, "I can send Zane if you'd like. Sometimes it's better to talk to someone your own age for a while."
Aidan glanced at Matthew, a quiet uncertainty stirring in his chest. The way Matthew spoke, softening his usual tone, made Aidan pause.
Aidan didn't answer—just gave a quiet nod, his thoughts elsewhere. It had been days since he last spoke to Zane. He might as well catch up a little.
Matthew stood up, his armor catching Aidan's eye. Now that Aidan was looking, he realized how different it truly was. Until now, he hadn't been close enough to see just how sleek and refined it was.
It wasn't bulky or heavy like a knight's. It was lean, built for speed—each plate shaped to move with him, not weigh him down. The metal shimmered with a deep, electric blue, and thin lines of light pulsed just beneath the surface, like veins of lightning trapped in steel.
When Matthew moved, the armor moved with him—quiet, smooth, controlled. Every step gave off a faint hum, the air around him tingling with static.
He didn't look like a man in armor. He looked like a storm, barely held in check.
Matthew's boots thudded lightly against the floor of the carriage as he crossed to the right side. With a practiced motion, he swung the door open.
But instead of wind rushing in or the creak of hinges, a surreal stillness greeted them.
Outside, the world blurred past in motion—trees and distant fields streaking by in a silent rush. The carriage glided smoothly along.
For a moment, Aidan stood up as well, closing the distance between them as he moved towards the door.
Matthew didn't react. His posture remained the same, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the doorway. A single strand of his dark hair shifted in the breeze, but he didn't so much as glance over.
From his perspective, it didn't matter what Aidan did—the carriage was master-level spell-proof and far more than he could interfere with.
Aidan stepped forward, his boots brushing softly against the wooden floor. He came to a stop beside Matthew, the two of them framed in the open doorway.
Outside, the world breathed.
Wind swept in, curling around their legs and tugging at the hem of Aidan's cloak. Fabric fluttered softly in the breeze.
Beside him, Matthew glanced over, his eyes unreadable.
"I'll take my leave," he said.
And then he was gone—not a step, not a sound, just a shimmer of light and a faint crackle in the air where he'd stood. Empty space.
Aidan didn't flinch. His gaze drifted past the open door.
The faint sound of hooves reached him—steady, distant, but growing closer. He looked around.
The guards were already in place. Not just around his carriage, but all the others too—a tight formation, riders mounted on tall, sharp-eyed Zephyron, their armor catching the sunlight in flashes.
Out of the corner of his eye, Aidan spotted Matthew again—now mounted on his own Zephyron. The beast moved with sharp, fluid steps, its dark mane rippling in the wind. Matthew shifted in the saddle, guiding it with a slight pull on the reins.
He was heading off, cutting through the line of riders.
Toward Zane, if Aidan had to guess.
He kept his eyes on the movement, but he knew the truth—the only reason he could track the guards at all was thanks to his aura. Without it, they would've been a blur, too fast, too sharp for his eyes to follow.
They weren't just standing watch. They were ready to move at a moment's notice.
One more thing caught his eye.
How the guards were riding. No servants. And even the person driving the carriage was a first-rank being.
Aidan shifted his gaze slightly, eyes drifting across the long line of carriages ahead.
Now it made sense.
It wasn't just supplies. The extra carriages weren't for resources—they were for other people, non-guards.
He exhaled quietly through his nose.
The air outside felt alive, sunlight falling gently on him.
Inside the carriage, the silence had been heavy, still. Out here, it broke apart.
Just as Aidan drew in a quiet breath, about to turn back and wait for Zane, he felt the carriage start to slow beneath him.
He glanced ahead.
The mountains were falling away now, the sharp ridges giving way to flatter ground—and beyond the horizon, a town.
Even from this distance, its sheer size was impossible to miss. Massive stone walls stretched wide across the land, catching the sunlight like old bones. Towers stood at intervals along the perimeter, and though the details were still hazy, the shape of it loomed unmistakably.
So this was the patrol point.
Aidan stared at the town on the horizon, the wind brushing against his face. A flicker passed through his eyes—not quite anticipation, not quite nostalgia. He didn't move, just stood there, cloak billowing gently behind him as the carriage rolled forward.
Aidan's fingers curled slightly at his sides. He hadn't stepped into a town like this since his rebirth. Not as a noble. Not with guards and enchanted armor and titles weighing on his back.
Back on Earth, he used to walk through crowds unnoticed, wallet light, dreams heavy.
And now, even surrounded by all this power, he found himself wondering… what would it be like to just be a face in the crowd again?
Aidan couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be how he used to be. Just a boy walking through a town, nameless in the crowd.
The carriage began to slow, and with it, the wind lost its sharp edge. The blur of trees and sweeping fields outside softened, shapes settling into focus. What had once been streaks of color now became individual trunks, rustling leaves, scattered rocks—details Aidan could finally see without relying on his aura.
Suddenly, a voice broke the quiet hum of the moment.
Aidan turned, his gaze drifting toward the sound.
Zane appeared, drawing closer, mounted on a Zephyron of his own. The creature's coat was a deep brown, sleek and strong, though smaller than the one Matthew had ridden.
Zane guided the beast with ease, the creature's steady gait a stark contrast to the more fluid movements of Matthew's beast.