The carriage jerked gently as it began to move with the rhythmic 'thubs' of hooves on the grass.
While inside the plush cabin, Nico sat with a strained smile plastered on his face, looking directly across at Commander Dove.
"Let me first begin by apologizing for Alaric's behavior towards the esteemed Greater Dragon," Dove began, her gaze shifting briefly to Nom-Nom, who was currently occupied with poking the expensive leather seat cushion, fascinated by how it squished under her finger. "To disrespect someone he does not measure up to even half of... was just shameless. Rest assured, he will be appropriately reprimanded."
[Here we go again...] Nico sighed internally, bracing himself for another round.
Nom-Nom didn't even look up from her investigation of the upholstery. She just flashed a big, distracted smile, "Oh, Master shut him up... and he said sorry too... so it's fine."
Nodding with a relieved smile, Dove turned her attention back to Nico. "Apologies to you as well, Nico. As you may have gauged from the bout, despite his potential, Alaric lacks experience. But he is one of our most promising new recruits. If there is anything that could be done…"
"Well, if you insist," Nico cut her off with a cheeky grin, "Take me out to dinner sometime."
Dove paused before letting out a sound that was somewhere between a smirk and a chuckle.
Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "You want me to take you out on a date, and pay for it too?"
"Why not?" Nico countered, leaning forward slightly with a half-smile. "Does the Commander have to have a man to pay for all her dates?"
Dove's eyebrow ticked slightly, a sign that he had successfully teased her.
Seeing his victory, Nico laughed out loud before leaning back into the cushions and saying, "Fine, we can figure the details out... later."
"Now, backing up a bit," Nico said as his voice dropped to a more serious tone, "You said he's a new recruit."
"Indeed," Dove nodded, seemingly unaware of the shift in the air. "… He's been with us for a month now. He comes from a long line of knights loyal to the crown."
Nico stared at her flatly, giving her a look that very clearly asked: Are you stupid?
[Why the hell would she bring a new guy into this?] Nico thought with a deep frown.
[What's stopping him from spilling his beans to his family? A family that is loyal to the throne...]
It didn't add up. According to the document Amaya had given them, only the General, Dove, and their close associates were acting entirely without the knowledge or approval of the crown in this smuggling of 'three Pantheon operatives' inside their own borders.
Bringing an outsider, especially a rookie with noble ties into the fold wasn't just risky...
[That is beyond stupid...]
Seeing the incredulous look in Nico's eyes, Dove softly chuckled as she leaned back, casually crossing one leg over the other, looking entirely unbothered by his silent judgment.
"This was also a little test of his loyalty to the Knights," Dove explained smoothly, with a voice carrying a sharp undercurrent. "… He will be kept under close watch. If he follows the pledge of secrecy he made to me this morning, I'll know I can trust him with sensitive matters such as this one. If not..."
She paused as she brushed a speck of dust from her uniform, "Well, Amaya pays him and the people he's told a late-night visit."
Nico's eyes widened slightly by the end of her sentence. The implication was clear. It wasn't just a test; it was a win-win scenario for Dove. Either she gained a loyal subordinate or figured out the extent she could use Alaric.
"Damn..." Nico muttered with a sigh, "That's smart... and convenient."
Dove offered him a small, knowing smile.
"Dark Magic, though vile and outlawed," she said softly, "… is a great boon when wielded by the right hands."
[Dark magic… doesn't Peko also have Darkness Affinity?]
Turning his gaze toward Peko, who was sitting beside Dove and staring out the window, Nico caught the faintest curl of her lips.
She shot back a quick, meaningful glance at him before returning her attention to the passing scenery.
[Holy shit!] Nico screamed internally, though his face remained a mask of polite interest. [Peko will be able to do that too!]
The implications were massive.
Initially, Nico had assumed Amaya's terrifying ability to manipulate minds was a unique innate talent or perhaps a closely guarded state secret.
But Dove had just confirmed it was "Dark Magic."
And if it was Darkness... Peko could master it.
Unlike Nom-Nom, who had only received the most basic "starter pack" of knowledge as the Ancestral Wisdom of her bloodline.
Peko was walking around with a literal encyclopedia of spellcraft imprinted on her DNA. She had access to thousands of spells, provided she gave the time and hard work required to master them.
[I can just imagine it...]
Nico damn near floated off his seat at the possibilities. No more messy and complicated cover-ups or schemes.
Just a snap of Peko's fingers, and he could erase inconvenient memories from people's minds entirely. Or maybe even implant new ones.
It was the ultimate "Clear History" button for reality.
He was deep in a fantasy of erasing Alaric's memory of the duel and replacing it with a memory of him dancing in a tutu in the middle of it, when Dove's voice yanked him back to earth.
"I've been meaning to ask," she said, her eyes studying him with curiosity. "What exactly is your class? That was the first I've ever heard of a 'Magus Infinitum'."
[Lady, I don't even know what a class actually means. I just came up with it on a whim… though I do have an idea of what a class is…]
But of course, he couldn't say that.
[Okay… play it cool…]
Staring into her bright blue eyes, Nico let out a confident smile and asked, "Before I answer that... tell me, Commander. What does a person's 'Class' mean to you?"
"What does it mean to me?" Dove repeated, blinking in confusion at the sudden reversal as she frowned in thought before answering, "Well... to me, a Class is a quick-spoken way to generalize the skill set a person possesses. Take Alaric, for example. He is a dual-class practitioner…a War Mage and a Swordsman."
[So it is kind of like video games… just a softer version,] Nico noted.
Nico took a deep breath before trying to compose his features into a mask of profound wisdom.
"To me, a Class is a declaration of one's ideal self," Nico said with a soft voice, "Let's take Alaric's example once again. An ideal War Mage is someone who can level armies with a single spell… If I say I am a War Mage, I am referring to the ideal I am chasing. My Tier merely reflects how close I am to reaching it."
Seeing Dove nod with a seriously contemplative expression, Nico quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
[Okay, she bit…]
-Ding!
{Host, got to hand it to you. Your knack for bullshitting is truly something to be studied.}
[Oh, shush up… I need to concentrate… can't fumble here.]
Ignoring the system's snark, Nico flashed a whimsical smile and continued.
"So when I said my Class is Magus Infinitum… I declared the ideal I am striving toward… An Infinite Mage. Someone who can keep fighting until the job is done. Someone who will always be the last one standing… even when faced against foes far more powerful and far more numerous than himself."
Dove looked at him in stunned silence, replaying his words in her head. It sounded poetic, almost noble, as though straight out of a heroic tale.
But logic quickly caught up to her.
"But... how?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
It all sounded good on paper, but what he described was biologically impossible.
[Can't exactly tell her about the Infinity…] Nico let out an internal sigh.
"You probably know the background I gave back at the Border," Nico replied, letting his smile dim slightly. "I really did take potions my whole life… that sapped my mana, forcing me to pressure my core into recovering faster than the drain rate just to keep my heart beating."
Dove's eyes widened in horror. "But... no one can survive that! The strain on your core will cripple it!"
"Indeed," Nico nodded solemnly. "Out of a batch of seven hundred... only I survived."
The air in the carriage grew cold as Dove stared at him, trying to reconcile the relaxed young man before her with the survivor of such a gruesome experiment.
"There really is no cruelty that is beneath Pantheon," she whispered as her hands slowly curled into fists.
Looking up, she asked, "But… how did you survive?"
"Through sheer grit..." Nico replied, leaning back. "And a certain phobia, I suppose."
Nico saw the flickering doubt in her eyes. She believed the horror, but she didn't buy that 'grit' and 'phobia' allowed him to survive.
[Let's... add in a bit of truth.]
"Let me be real with you for a second," Nico said softly as he slowly lowered his gaze before taking a quick, unnoticeable glance at Peko and Nom-Nom.
"That phobia…" Nico continued as he let out a whimsical chuckle, "I've got people behind me, Commander... people who have clung their hopes onto my shoulders, trusting that so long as they stand behind me, nothing will ever be able to harm them."
Nico looked back up before staring into Dove's with an intensity that burned through all doubts.
"And to make sure nothing ever can... I need to be able to fight forever. And to fail is that phobia."
In the corner of his vision, he saw Nom-Nom stop fidgeting.
Even Peko turned from the window as both of them stared at him in a silent realization passing between them that they understood exactly who the "people" he mentioned were.
With a soft chuckle to break the tension, Nico ended, "Maybe that's why I got what I have..."
Dove sat there, completely stunned. She had expected arrogance or secrecy, but she never expected this level of conviction.
"So, Commander Dove," Nico said with utmost sincerity. "Let me assure you... When the Night of the Red Moon comes, I will fight with the entire city behind me."
Dove looked at him for a long moment, searching for any sign of deception but found none.
Taking a deep breath, she extended her hand across the cabin.
"Very well," she said with a certain softness entering her eyes that hadn't been there before, "I will hold you to it."
Nico reached out and took her hand, expecting a firm, military shake. Instead, he felt warmth.
Despite the calluses on her palms from years of sword training, to him, her hand felt incredibly soft.
And as she gave him that very first warm smile, Nico instantly malfunctioned.
He felt his heartbeat accelerate with a sudden thumping in his chest, while he got lost in the curve of her lips and the warmth of her grip.
And a long beat later, a small, awkward cough snapped him out of it.
Dove was looking at their joined hands with an eyebrow raised, "The... hand."
"Yeah! Right! Sorry..." Nico yelped, immediately letting go as if he'd been burned while heat rushed up his neck.
[Ahhh... it felt so nice!] Nico screamed internally, his mind traitorously replaying the texture of her hand and the sight of her smile.
"You were just thinking of something perverted, weren't you?"
Dove's voice cut through his thoughts as she glared at him, but there was a very slight pink tint on her cheeks.
"N-No, of course not!" Nico stammered.
"Your face is all red," she pointed out deadpan.
"I... got sensitive skin!" Nico blurted out before quickly turning his head to stare intensely out the window.
"Pervert," Dove whispered, not believing him even for a second.
But as she leaned back into her seat, crossing her arms, she found herself smiling faintly again.
And slowly the realization dawned on her that she didn't quite hate it.