“So what do you think?” Kene said, as Merva and several of the guards experimented with the enchanted weapons, some swords, some spears.

  Merva was trying to time her weight enchantment with her swings, slowly gaining proficiency. Her sword hummed from the rapid shifts in weight as she moved through her forms. Eventually, she stopped and looked directly at Ester.

  “Considering the resources you had at hand, this is rather impressive, Young Master,” she said. “But I must speak honestly, and with respect. It does not hold up to what your father provides his head knights.”

  That was to be expected. Kene had been forced to piece everything together with cheap materials and without proper infrastructure. Still, with things set up like this, he could redirect the funds in his coffers toward other priorities. It freed up a considerable portion of the yearly budget.

  “What about you, Gorjan? Speak freely,” Kene said.

  Kene thought.

  Gorjan winced slightly, though he hid it well. It seemed the big man didn’t enjoy being put on the spot.

  “It’s… it’s spectacular, Young Master,” Gorjan said. “I’ve never held enchanted items before. Never thought I would. The way I can control it with my thoughts and mana, it’s… it’s quite something.”

  He extended the blade back and forth for good measure. “I can already feel that having this will increase my combat effectiveness. Though, if I may add, Young Master, its reliability is yet to be tested.”

  “I agree with Gorjan, Young Master,” Mael said. She was small and compact, with tan skin, sharp eyes, and brunette hair tied back into a ponytail. “We can only really know if we test them out in the field.”

  Kene smiled. “Of course. You are all permitted to use them during guard duty and on missions for the following week. After that, you’ll be given the opportunity to provide feedback, which will be used to improve the finalized models.”

  Some of the guards visibly brightened at the prospect of keeping the weapons longer. Henrir still wore his death glare, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth told Kene everything he needed to know.

  Kene nodded toward Merva. She returned the gesture, then turned to address the group. “You heard the Young Master. He’s doing everything within his power to ensure this raid is a success. Use the enchanted gear and report your findings as ordered. You are dismissed.”

  The guards dispersed shortly after.

  “As for you, Young Master,” Merva said once they were alone, “fortune has favored you. I’ve found a mission suited to your experience level.” Her eyes lingered on him, assessing.

  Kene smiled. “I take it this is when I finally gain some active combat experience?”

  Merva nodded. “Over the last few days, you’ve proven yourself. More importantly, you’ve shown dedication. You’re genuinely putting effort into helping with the raid. I’m still not comfortable sending you into anything major, but we can start with low stakes. You’ll be assigned to guard duty going forward.”

  She paused, then added, “I’ll also assign one of my guards to support you and monitor your progress.”

  “Thank you, Knight Merva,” Kene said.

  “Though I doubt it will be enough for you to defeat Gorjan by the duel’s deadline,” she added, her lips curving slightly upward.

  Kene thought.

  “Young Master, is everything alright?” Merva asked. “You spaced out there.”

  “I’m fine,” Kene said. “Just thinking whether fighting with my enhanced body might help me gain insight into the direction I should take next.”

  The interest in her eyes sharpened almost instantly, though she held back her questions.

  “If you discover anything,” she said, “please report it to me. I’d be interested to hear.”

  Kene gave a short nod, accepted the intelligence pamphlet she handed him, and read through it as he walked away.

  It seems like he would be hunting beasts.

  ***

  Kene wore a form-fitting gambeson, one of the enchanted spear prototypes strapped securely across his back. He stood outside his compound with Mikkel at his side, an unmistakably bored expression settled on his face.

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  He was waiting for his escort, his first official mission. Unlike in his previous era, the Adventurers’ Guild had yet to be established. For now, territorial lords and ladies were forced to rely on their own guards to handle beast incursions and dungeon breaks within their lands.

  ‘Establishing it early would be beneficial,’ Kene mused. ‘But my hands are already full with current projects. Perhaps Quach would be interested… or he may already be laying the groundwork himself.’

  This time, Kene wouldn’t merely be issuing orders, he would be participating directly. A family of Tier 1 Direboars had been causing trouble near the agricultural zone, trampling fields and devouring crops. Over the past few weeks, they had grown increasingly bold, raiding more frequently and in larger numbers. The guards stationed there were starting to struggle.

  On paper, the beasts were weak. In practice, their numbers made them dangerous. Eventually, Kene planned to restore a barrier array around the farmlands, but that would have to wait until after the raid.

  “He’s here, Master Ester,” Mikkel said suddenly.

  Kene had already noticed the approaching carriage with his enhanced vision, but he appreciated the attempt. An open wooden carriage rolled to a stop before them. One guard held the reins while another sat within, its primary purpose transport, its secondary role storage for any valuable materials harvested from magical beasts.

  ‘Sometimes I truly miss the convenience of magitech,’ Kene muttered internally. ‘This thing is painfully slow.’

  The guards dismounted and bowed. After a brief exchange, Kene was escorted into the carriage.

  Mikkel lingered, worry clear on his face. “Please be careful, Young Master,” he said quietly. “Your presence here is more important than you realise. You must stay safe.”

  “I will, Mikkel,” Kene replied calmly. “I’ll follow the guards’ directives and won’t act recklessly.”

  That seemed to ease him, if only slightly. The guards nodded in agreement, satisfied with the exchange.

  With a soft creak of wood and the snap of reins, the carriage began to move, carrying Kene toward his first taste of active duty.

  ***

  The carriage jolted along the main road of the town—Kene’s town, technically.

  Looking through the window, it dawned on him how little he had actually interacted with the citizens since waking up in Ester’s body. Aside from a few key figures vital to his projects, he had been a ghost. Ester had been no better, a shut-in who preferred the shadows of the manor to the sunlight of the streets.

  Kene realized.

  He watched the crowds part. When his gaze met theirs, the townsfolk didn't offer cheers or waves. They bowed with stiff, trembling shoulders or looked away in a panic, as if meeting his eyes might provoke him to stop the carriage and strike them down.

  Based on Ester’s memories, their fear was rational. In this era, a dispute with a Mage or a Noble—no matter who started it, usually ended with a commoner disappearing. Sometimes their entire family vanished with them.

  The thought left a bitter taste in Kene’s mouth. In his era, Mages were the shield, the final safeguard for a humanity slowly being devoured by corruption. To see them reduced to petty tyrants was a rot he intended to prune once he clawed back his former power.

  His mind drifted to the current hierarchy of this world. From what he’d gathered, the apex of power on this continent was the Emperor of Talimaar: a Mage at the peak of the 7th Circle. Initially, Kene had been perplexed. How could anyone reach such a height without the foundational rules established during the Golden Age? Then he felt the air—the mana here was so dense it was practically stagnant. With enough centuries and access to high-mana regions, one could essentially brute-force their way to the 7th Circle through sheer cultivation.

  But quantity wasn't quality. A 7th Circle Mage of this era lacked the dual-class Enforcer training, the refined techniques, and the sheer combat lethality of a Golden Age veteran who spent every day on the frontlines against the corrupted.

  Kene cautioned himself. ‘ If the Royal Family sensed a new power rising, especially one that bypassed their known laws of magic, they would snuff him out before he could even finish his climb. The Empire boasted millions of 4th Circle Mages and ten thousand at the 6th. To them, the "Enforcer" path he was building was a mere curiosity, a primitive tribal art that capped out at the 4th Circle equivalent.

  he thought. ‘ This was the reason for his secrecy. He needed to be selective about who he awakened as an Enforcer. Loyalty had to be forged in iron before power was granted; he couldn't afford a single defector leaking his secrets to the Empire for a bag of gold. He didn't want to play at being Emperor, but he was more than happy to sit on a council and steer this civilization away from the coming storm.

  Kene turned his attention away from the window and toward the guard sitting opposite him. “What is your name? I don’t believe we’ve spoken during training.”

  The guard straightened, looking surprised. “Aye, Young Master. I’m Siran Balvan, at your service.”

  “Well met, Siran. Tell me... this is my first beast extermination mission.” Kene let the lie slide off his tongue with practiced ease. “I’ve read the reports, but is there anything the papers missed? Anything I should know before we're in the thick of it?”

  “Aye, Yo—”

  “Just call me Ester,” Kene interrupted. “You have my permission. We’re going to be isolated out there; the titles are just extra weight.”

  Siran hesitated, his brow furrowed, but he nodded. “Right... Ester. We’re hunting Direboars. They’re weaker than Spikebacks, but don't let that fool you. They charge in straight lines, which is easy enough to dodge if you're fast, but they cover ground like a runaway catapult. They also have a freakish pain tolerance. Even if you put a blade through its heart, don't get close. It might not realize it's dead yet, and it’ll use its last breath to take you with it.”

  Siran exhaled, looking a bit sheepish. “That’s... well, that’s all I’ve got, sorry yo- Ester.”

  “That’s plenty, Siran. You’ve done a good job.”

  Kene already knew this of course, Direboars existed in his period as well, but building rapport was the more important objective today.

  As they passed through the town's outer gates and into the untamed wilderness, Kene reached for a mask and pulled it over his face. The townsfolk knew he was alive, but the world outside didn't need to see his face just yet. It was a precaution Knight Merva had insisted on, and Kene was happy to oblige.

  They reached a certain spot in the grass land and parked the carriage, the driver stood guard of it, while Siran and Kene moved deeper into the forest.

  “We will be venturing into where the beasts were last spotted, stay on alert and follow my lead.” Siran said.

  “I’ll do as you instruct Siran” Kene said, and both men moved.