Glimpse of Eternity [A Reincarnation Isekai Fantasy]

Sometimes, Reivan thanked his lucky stars that reality wasn’t as eventful as fiction. Because their squad splitting up had been the perfect opportunity for fate to spice things up needlessly.

It didn't take much effort on his part to come up with possible developments. He’d be alone with an attractive young woman he was pursuing, so rom-com hijinks ensuing would have been an annoying but appreciated development. They could have also suffered an ambush from the monsters they were supposed to kick out of their very homes. Or they could have stumbled upon a villager with a lost child along the way.

Thankfully, nothing happened.

After a short trip of about thirty minutes on their surprisingly fast hoverboards, Reivan and Mira arrived within view of the village. Even from afar, they could see the warm orange lights leaking out of windows and the trails of black smoke from their chimneys that may have been for cooking or simply to stave off the blasted cold that Arkhan was eternally plagued with.

Regardless of their utility, Reivan found himself wishing that the Tower invented a flying implement similar to the broomsticks from a certain story about a boy with a lightning scar instead. Or even a flying carpet. Because as short as the trip was, his feeble mortal knees did not enjoy having to stand like a statue for half an hour while going forty to fifty kilometers per hour.

Mira herself had complained incessantly despite her superior physical prowess. If Reivan wasn’t working on seducing her, he would have already snapped and told her to shut up about five times by now. Thankfully, he didn’t do something that would have wasted weeks of progress. Sometimes, it amazed him how far a man's patience could be stretched when they were chasing skirts.

“Finally! My knees can rest,” she griped as the light of scrying on her right eye flickered out in the darkness, her hoverboard easing to a halt. “Seems we didn’t need to rush here after all.”

“It’s better this way,” Reivan answered as he gradually came to a stop right next to her. “Now we can stay and prevent anything from happening. Or help mitigate damage, at least. It’s not like we’re all that great.”

“Oh, don’t be such a downer. C’mon, let’s say hi. Let’s go slow so they don’t get spooked.”

Even from far off, they could see scattered villagers here and there, talking to their neighbors from across different sides of a wooden fence or momentarily coming out of their houses to retrieve firewood from a nearby stack. So if the smoking chimneys weren’t enough of a clue that everything was fine, they now had inconclusive evidence that the village wasn’t under monster-induced duress.

Also, there were what appeared to be two middle-aged men—village militia they assumed—armed with outdated rifles standing guard by the wooden archway that served as the village entrance. The archway seemed a bit useless, however, given that the fence surrounding the village was merely three feet high. Even a child could climb over it with enough grit and effort, much less a monster motivated by hunger or bloodlust.

Reivan and Mira were spotted rather quickly given how they were waving around glowing wands while surrounded by wisps of flames that they had conjured for warmth, causing the guards to tense and ready their weapons. However, they must have quickly realized that the incoming pair were battlemages because the two men quickly relaxed.

Surely, wearing combat robes and riding hoverboards was enough to clue them in.

“You do the talking,” Mira whispered loudly as they neared the militia. “I’m shy around strangers!”

 

 

Reivan grimaced at her blatant attempt to get out of doing work, but he couldn’t really do anything about it. Besides, he had agreed to be the effective leader, though that was when he still had the misconception that their captain was utterly useless. She wasn't, however. Just lazy. And a little insecure about being a leader.

‘There needs to be a renegotiation of duties soon.’

In any case, Reivan continued forward as Mira slowed to a halt, putting on a friendly smile as he raised both hands. “Good evening, misters. We mean you no harm.”

“Battlemage.” One of the men inclined his head in respect. “We was told you'd be coming. But we didn’t think you was coming today though…”

“Ah, well... We came as fast as we could. It would be a tragedy if we dallied for a day or two and ended up arriving too late.”

That seemed to go over well with the two men, who shared a look and nodded.

“These’re good kids, they sent us,” the one on the left said.

“Right.” The other grunted, cocking a brow as he gave the battlemages a suspicious glance. “I thought there’d be more’n two.”

“The rest are trailing behind us,” Reivan chimed in. “The two of us went ahead. Just in case.”

“You got a badge or somethin', sir mage?”

‘Oh. Right. Probably should have gone with that first.’

Managing to hide his embarrassment at such an oversight, Reivan pulled out a tiny bronze badge with the engraved figure of an owl on a tree branch, glowing in pulses of purple light. It was one of the lesser-used articles of possession so he almost completely forgot that he’d been given one.

“Seems real,” One of the guards commented with a look that made it obvious that he was just acting like he knew what he was talking about. “You got a name, mister mage?”

“Clover Salwyn.” Reivan then gestured behind him. “The woman behind me is Mira Serandina.”

“Right then. Guess you folks can come in. We’ll lead you to the elderman so they can set ya up.”

“Thank you. And may the cold winds bring warm tidings to you.”

“Same to you, mage.”

With that cursory greeting out of the way, Reivan gestured for Mira to come along as one of the militia escorted them inside. Of course, they decided to go on foot from here, carrying their hoverboards under their arms given how full their spatial storage artifacts were. Thankfully, the boards were practically weightless despite being completely made of metal.

“Good work back there,” Mira elbowed him with an impish grin. “Should’ve shown the badge first though.”

“I know, alright?” Reivan grumbled back.

“Don’t worry about it, our squad leader made the same mistake back then.”

“That's good to know. Would've been even better if you'd warned me, don't you think?”

“These types of things are supposed to be learned through experience.”

Reivan rolled his eyes. “That’s a load of bull.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

As they were led through the village of Florris, Reivan got to appreciate the quaint atmosphere for all its good pros and cons. Surprisingly, the houses, though small and made of wood and stone, looked clean and sturdily made. Their boots also didn’t have to get slathered with mud and manure given how there was a network of stone-paved paths that connected every place of import to everywhere else.

It was nice, actually. And a whole lot less stinky than Reivan anticipated. Actually, there was a pleasant scent of warm milk and freshly baked bread wafting in the air that stoked his appetite along with the relaxing symphony of bustling houses.

“You kids are just in time.” The man leading turned toward them as they walked. “The cruds should be just about ready tonight.”

‘The what now?’

“That sounds lovely.” Mira smiled, throwing a glance at Reivan as if to get him to agree. “Right?”

“Uh, yeah… Of course.” Reivan nodded with an awkward smile. In many cases, ignorance should be amended by simply acknowledging it. But in this particular situation, he didn’t want to appear like the only idiot. He’d just have to wait and see what the hell cruds were and make his decision.

Along the way, their escort warmly made conversation with them about all sorts of subjects, most of which were about how great the village was. It came off as a bit boastful because that was precisely what it was, and the man was being entirely unapologetic about it. Which was fine, in Reivan’s opinion. A little pride never hurt anyone.

It also helped him paint a better picture of the place they’d be staying in for a month.

Eventually, he and Mira were led through a set of wooden stairs that led to an elevated area in the village where everything was noticeably better. The houses were all stone and they were all two or three stories with pristinely maintained hedgerows separating every house’s territory from its neighbors.

Obviously, this was the rich part of the village.

‘Why am I not surprised…?’

Even in villages, it seemed, there was a gap between rich and poor. But then again, what did it matter to him?

There was no clear way to distinguish which house belonged to the most important person in the village because, honestly, any of them would have fit the bill. If they didn’t have a guide, they would have been utterly lost.

They did though. Have a guide, that is. As such, they were escorted to the current elderman’s house without any issues. Truly, it was great when everything worked out without strange or surprising plot developments. Maybe it was boring for anyone spectating him, but he sure as hell loved it when absolutely nothing but good things happened.

Anyway, the elderman’s house was amongst the bigger ones in the rich neighborhood. It was only two stories tall but was especially wide, so it was actually bigger than the rest. Painted a clean white and with a friendly puppy wagging its tail while leashed to a pole near the door, the house looked like a good place to live in.

“Wait here,” Their guide gestured for them to stay behind before easily opening the wooden gate to the elderman’s home. With a smile, he gave the puppy a pat on the head as he knocked. “Excuse me, elder. Them battlemages arrived early!”

‘Why’s he knocking if he was just going to shout anyway…’

Mira, on the other hand, focused on something else. “Look, Clover. That puppy’s adorable. I always wanted a dog, but I was scared it wouldn't get along with Boop. But anyway, you think it’ll let us pet it?”

“Take this more seriously…” Reivan shook his head in exasperation before shrugging. “Well, if it does, I wanna do it too.”

He was, after all, a lover of dogs. Passing up the opportunity was not in his nature, even if he was playing a character at the moment.

The door soon opened to reveal a beautiful young woman who was quite obviously not the elder. She was probably blonde, though the cloth she wore to cover her hair hid it well. And even when he wasn’t trying to notice, she also had an absolutely fantastic set of assets on her chest. Really, they were just kind of there, so he wasn’t to be blamed for being made aware of their existence.

So the pointed glare he could feel coming from beside him was wholly unwarranted.

Reivan cleared his throat and looked away from the conversation happening by the door, suddenly finding the stars in the sky incredibly interesting.

“Good for you, Clover.” Mira elbowed him a little harder than she should have. “Aren’t you glad a beauty like that’s around?”

“I didn’t even say anything…” He rubbed his arm where she struck. It hurt more than his manly pride wanted to admit. “And there’s no need to get jealous. Didn’t I say I wouldn’t play around while we were having a thing?”

“You did say that…” Mira squinted at him before looking away. “Fine. Also, who says I’m jealous?”

“Your actions do.”

“Shush. Be quiet, minion. They’re coming.”

Reivan shut his mouth but he felt very pleased overall. His eyes then turned toward the door again, where their guide and the eye candy were already finished with their conversation. They were indeed coming, which was a convenient development for Mira.

“Good evening, esteemed guests from the Tower.” The girl gave them a polite smile and an awkward attempt at a curtsy. “I’m Verbena, the elderman’s daughter. My apologies, but my father turned in early for the night so he’s not quite ready to welcome you yet. We’d love for you to come inside to warm up while he makes himself presentable though.”

“Thank you.” Reivan placed a hand on his chest and bowed before readjusting his glasses. “My name’s Clover Salwyn and this is Mira Serandina. There are others, but they will arrive tomorrow. Or later in the night, if they get lucky by finding a stagecoach that’s willing to travel at this hour.”

“Unlikely.” Verbena giggled before stepping aside. “Please, this way.”

Reivan and Mira thanked and bid their farewell to their middle-aged guide before ducking inside the elderman’s home at Verbena’s invitation. The interior was made of polished wood in contrast to its stone exterior, and the hallways were illuminated with magitech lanterns that radiated a warm orange light.

“I hope the trip here wasn’t too difficult?” Verbena politely inquired as she sat them down in what was probably a guest parlor. Which was quite unvillage-like for a house to have. “Uncle Ba—I mean, the man who guided you earlier told me that you rushed here in worry of our welfare. On behalf of the people of Florris, I thank you.”

“We’re just doing our job,” he replied.

“And we appreciate it,” she smiled at him. “Ah, you’ll find that my father is very slow, especially when he’s just awoken. Would you care for a meal? Or have you already eaten?”

“We wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Not at all, it would be our pleasure to host you. We couldn’t possibly offer much compared to the city, but we have mead, milk, bread, and butter that I made myself. There’s also crud. We were just about to have dinner, actually. Why not join us?”

Given how he’d already refused once, it would be rude to do so any more than this. As such, Reivan respectfully bowed his head. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to go around.” Verbena clapped her very soft-looking hands, dimples on her smooth cheeks. “Please, come this way. My sister has already set the table, I believe.”

They all got up and Reivan was once again stabbed by Mira’s glare, to which he merely replied with a wink and a pucker of his lips to make her stop, punching his arm with barely any force.

Joining them on the table was Verbena’s sister Verina, who was apparently twelve, and her little brother Viklin, who was five. As for their mother, Reivan was just about to write her off as dead because novels ruined his brain, making him think everyone had a tragic backstory. But apparently, she was alive and well. The elderman's wife was currently in Varros, managing a business of some kind in the elderman’s name and acting as the village's representative there.

Oh. And a bit of casual inquiry revealed that Verbena was actually the same age as Mira.

They didn’t make them the same in the villages, it seemed. Or maybe Verbena was an outlier, given her little sister was tiny even by twelve-year-old standards. Mimi and Jiji certainly weren’t that small when they were twelve, and they were malnourished from a life on the run in the eastern continent.

Anyway, the following meal was nice and filling. Bread with warm milk and butter. There was honey too, and boy was that great. Reivan was also treated to a mug of the best mead he’d ever had—which was really saying something because he’d tasted the very best Aizen could offer.

Also, Reivan came to discover that “crud” was just cheese, only made from the milk of something other than a cow. It tasted quite different from cheese but was made in the same way and looked alike. The taste was a bit… strange if Reivan was being honest. Particularly the strong smell it gave off was too pungent for his picky nose. He much preferred cheese. Normal, good ole cheese from amazingly normal animals called cows. Sometimes goats.

It seemed Arkhan in general agreed with his opinion because crud was a type of food that mainly circulated in villages where the beasts it came from were raised. Which was rare, so it was an acquired taste for locals.

As it turned out, Mira’s hometown had a few nearby villages that traded it in from time to time, which was why she knew about it. Crud was never served in their restaurant, however, because it was too smelly. She liked it though, so Reivan gave her his portion.

There was a bit of an incident where Verbena mentioned she was a dairymaid, and that working with milk all the time gave her very soft hands. She had innocently demonstrated this by letting him feel them, much to Mira’s annoyance. The grumpy captain had wasted no time in stepping on his boots, which barely affected him because of their defensive enchantments.

After the meal, Verbena led them to a study on the second floor, where the elderman was waiting by the window.

‘He’s younger than I anticipated.’

Thirty years old, give or take. Maybe halfway to forty. The elderman was most definitely Verbena’s father given his slicked blonde hair, fair skin, and handsome features. Perhaps this was what aging like fine wine meant, Reivan mused. He was also insanely tall. A rough estimate put him at six foot eight. Reivan saw plenty of tall people and Aizen'n's average was pretty up there too. But this guy was on another level.

'Verbena wasn't that tall though... Ah, did all her height go into... Uh, never mind.'

“A pleasant evening to you two,” the elderman said. “I apologize for making you wait. I wasn’t really in a state to meet guests, you see.”

“No apologies necessary.” Reivan smiled and accepted the invitation to sit. “It’s our fault for arriving at night.”

“Oh, but you did so for our sake. Nobody in Florris will fault you for such kindness. Thank you.”

“I hardly deserve the credit. It was our squad’s captain that urged us to hurry.”

Mira stiffened upon having the spotlight turned on her, pinching Reivan’s thigh as she smiled at the elderman. “It ended up being for naught. But I’m glad that there was never a need.”

“Indeed. Peace and quiet is wonderful.” The elderman chuckled before extending a hand to her. “Where are my manners? I’m Vultario Craywin, and I am this village’s elderman. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Mira Serandina.” She shook his hand.

Reivan then moved to take it next. “Clover Salwyn. Vice-captain.”

Vultario gripped his hand firmly before letting go, a kind smile on his face. “I’m glad they sent us such capable battlemages despite the mundanity of our village’s issue. Makes me feel like we aren’t paying those taxes for nothing.”

With the introductions out of the way, the elderman pulled out a very simple map that featured the village and its surroundings. Really, simple was a bit of an understatement because the village was portrayed as a circle. Everything else on it was drawn with the same level of simplicity.

“May I ask about how much you know about what we need from you?” Vultario inquired.

“We’re to send away monsters that have made a home close to the village,” Reivan answered. “But try not to hurt them because they’re also beneficial to the village.”

“You have the basic gist of it, then. Which is honestly enough, for this isn’t all that complicated. Just not something ordinary people can do.”

“We were told that the elderman would explain more.”

“And so I shall.” Vultario then pulled out a book, and in contrast to the lackluster map, this one had very refined illustrations of plants and creatures within. He flipped to a page and showed it to them. “This is what you’ll be sending away. Oh, and calling them monsters is a bit much… They’re as much a resident of these lands as we are.”

Reivan nodded and pulled the book closer to their side of the table so he and Mira could get a better look.

The creature was, quite frankly, a strange caricature of a child.

According to the notes on the page, the villagers called them “Vladeken” and they could at most get tall enough to reach someone’s knees. Though the sketch on the book had no color, a note mentioned they had grayish skin, beady red eyes, and dull nails. Strangely enough, Vladeken didn’t have a mouth, ears, or a nose but they could hear and smell. As for eating, they mainly subsisted on morning dew that formed on their skins. Vladeken tended to build small igloo-like burrows out of earth-molding abilities that they innately had.

For the most part, they seemed entirely harmless.

They were actually beneficial because their waste—which, really, was just piss because they didn’t eat anything solid—had extremely beneficial effects on the soil. When the Vladeken eventually left, which they always did after living anywhere for a year or two, the area that was once their burrow would be absolutely filled with all kinds of mushrooms and herbs that the villagers would harvest for years.

Another boon was the scent of their waste. It was absolutely atrocious to just about every other creature except humans Vladeken, warding off dangerous monsters and even snakes or wolves from settling in the vicinity of the village.

“If letting them live around here is so great,” Mira tilted her head. “Why do you want them sent away at all? Do they make a lot of noise or play pranks?”

Vultario shook his head. “No, they don’t do anything of the sort. They generally keep to themselves and are practically incapable of making a sound. The Vladeken are nice, all around. Everybody likes them.”

“Now I'm even more confused, then.”

“It’s because while their waste is unattractive to almost everything else, they are also extremely attractive to certain species of insects.”

Apparently, these insects also weren’t harmful by themselves. But the problem lay in the fact that the Vladeken had just made their home on a particularly important field of flowers that the village beekeepers have their bees pollinate in. And some of the insects that the Vladeken attract were invasive to the bees, crippling the honey-making capabilities Florris possessed.

‘Honey…’

“Ah. The mead.” Reivan recalled what he had drunk a few minutes ago. It would be a while before he forgot that. There was absolutely no way that wasn’t the village’s specialty, sold for large profits.

“You seem to have taken a liking to it.” Vultario smiled, a bit smugly despite his age. “Our village is quite proud of it. I’d be happy to send you off with a bottle of our finest when this issue has been resolved.”

A bribe. Blatantly so, too. But Reivan would not comment on it. He liked the mead, after all. Having more wouldn't hurt anybody.

Reivan cleared his throat. “There’s no need for that but it would be rude to refuse such a thoughtful gift.”

“Right. Rude…” Mira looked at him skeptically from the side before turning back to the elderman. “Are the Vladeken truly harmless? If so, why can’t the villagers just fend them off without calling up battlemages?”

“They are harmless but they are also incredibly stubborn.” Vultarios gestured at the very crude map. “Forgive me for this, but the more detailed map of the village I once had was ruined by termites. They had a couple of years to eat it all up before I noticed it earlier.”

‘Oh. So that’s why.’

Honestly, Reivan just thought there wasn’t a map at all. “How are they stubborn?”

“The Vladeken have natural abilities to mold earth,” the elderman said. “So even if we come over to destroy their hovels, herding them somewhere else, they’ll just come back and rebuild them in a couple of minutes.”

“Ah… that sounds incredibly troublesome.”

“Indeed it is. We don’t really want to hurt them either, and though they are quite capable of hurting us by simply making a very deep pit under our feet, they don’t. So really, we’re at a bit of an impasse. We can’t just let them stay where they are, else our bees will get devoured by the insects they bring here.”

Reivan nodded. It truly was a dilemma. They wanted the Vladeken around because they warded off more dangerous creatures and left behind a treasure trove of natural resources after a year or two—just not where they were right now.

“This here is the village.” The elderman pointed at the circle, then pointed at an X-mark a bit to the west. “This is the field they’ve settled down in. They’ve only been there a week, but they’ve already built their hovels. They're even building walls, last time I checked. Historically, this means they’re there to stay.”

“What if,” Mira tapped on the map. “We destroy their hovels. And at some point, they just decide not to rebuild anywhere near Florris?”

“The chances of that are slim.” Vultario shook his head. “We’ve interacted with the Vladeken for centuries and have come to understand a little bit about their behaviors. Generally speaking, they’ll stick around after having their homes destroyed. And once they get bored of the process of rebuilding on the same spot and having it destroyed, they’ll just move somewhere else nearby and build. That’s how it’s always been.”

Reivan hummed in thought before posing his own question. “Is there a precedent of Vladeken hurting anyone?”

“None… Oh, there was one.”

Apparently, the lone incident involved a drunken man who was known for beating his wife and children. So the incident with the Vladeken, where the man lost an eye and had a few fingers broken, ended up being the last straw that broke the camel’s back. The man had gotten kicked out of Florris for disrupting the peace.

So the general understanding was to simply not be an asshole and the Vladeken wouldn’t do anything past slinging mud at you.

‘Wait a minute… Destroying their homes unprovoked counts as being an asshole, right?’