My Return Ticket
Far off in the distance, an enormous giant came into view. At first, I thought it might be Cron, the leader of the Black Horse Knights, but the guy had appeared in the front yard of the lodging for regular invitees, not the VIPs. Emerging from beyond that meant he wasn't a VIP either—one who couldn't even take a palace carriage from the assigned quarters to the grand ballroom.
'What the fuck?'
Ivan Hellenger's eyes widened. From the back alone, he'd mistaken it for some monster or summon. Compared to the people around it, the figure looked like a robe haphazardly draped over a beast or summoned creature.
That was the moment.
The word "monster" conjured up images and memories.
'Uh—!'
The subjugation expedition to the Dead Sea. That mad bastard they'd encountered just before reaching Monster Island!
Ivan fixed his gaze on the distant hulking form and frantically gestured to his adjutant behind him.
"Pull it out, quick!"
"Which one—"
"The sketch of that monster fucker, hurry!"
"Here it is, young master."
"Telescope too."
"Yes, sir."
Ivan snatched the telescope and paper from his adjutant.
Flutter!
One hand holding the sketch aloft, Ivan peered through the telescope at the man. He tilted his head back and forth, comparing repeatedly to confirm if it was the same person....
Hmm.
Wearing an ambiguous expression, Ivan tilted his head and tapped his adjutant's shoulder.
"Take a look at this. Doesn't that fucker seem like this guy?"
"Pardon?"
"Go see for yourself and confirm."
"Ah, yes, young master."
The adjutant took the telescope and sketch from Ivan and checked the distant man's face. He too tilted his head several times.
"Huh! I... don't really know."
He looked just as puzzled.
"It kinda gives that vibe, but it's a bit iffy to say it's definitely the same person."
"Right?"
"Yes. Though at a glance, it does look similar— tsk, I can't say for sure either. But who is he, anyway?"
"Why ask me?"
"My apologies. Still, to get invited to the royal ball, he must be tied to some prominent family or group at least."
"Whatever, look again. The size matches pretty well, doesn't it? The fucker looks like a straight-up monster right now."
"Sorry, but it's hard to say definitively because back then, there was nothing around to compare him to...."
"Sigh."
Ivan let out a groan and nodded. Fair enough. The guy they'd spotted in the middle of the Dead Sea had looked massive, sure, but with no one nearby for scale, it was hard to gauge just how big. Plus, that body back then was insanely muscular—dense muscles so packed that a needle wouldn't pierce them, with heat haze rising around it like the air was warping. And bizarre currents had crackled over him like lightning without a cloud in the sky.
Above all, that overwhelming pressure and presence—!
Even recalling it now sent chills down his spine. But the guy standing there now, grinning slack-jawed alone, had a totally different vibe from that bone-chilling memory.
'What the hell, he looks like a total dimwit—'
From the robe's outline, he seemed tall and built, but who knew if it hid the same violently sculpted body from before or just a fat pig with a big frame.
"Well, we'll know up close. Prepare just in case. Memorize that sketch good."
"Yes, young master."
He said that, but honestly, Ivan felt no real threat. It wasn't just because this was the safest spot in the Carbon Kingdom.
No way, he thought. A guy with that kind of power standing there? If he'd made a name for himself, word would be out already. And if he had, he wouldn't be ambiguously hanging around a regular invitee lodge without VIP treatment—no carriage from the palace.
Ivan chuckled softly and shook his head. He headed toward the carriage parked in front of the VIP lodging.
The exclusive privilege for VIPs only: a ride to the grand ballroom in a royal carriage. Sinking into it, he drifted back into his swelling delusions.
"Let's go."
"Yes, sir."
To become the star of this ball.
At that moment, the hour hand on the central clock in the grand ballroom ticked forward.
Ding—! Ding—! Ding—!
Beneath it, the silver bell engraved with the Carbon Kingdom's crest began to ring. The official start of the ball, recorded by the bustling palace scribes.
Fwoosh—! Fwoosh—! Fwoosh—!
Along the silk road embroidered in crimson and gold, the endless rows of incense candles on either side ignited, filling the hall with flickering golden light.
Rumble—!
The two massive doors at the end of the silk road swung open, and the royal orchestra's melody seeped out slowly.
After the regular invitees filled their seats came the VIPs of the ball.
Carriages arrived one by one before the grand ballroom—from the VIP lodgings to the hall itself. Even for intra-palace travel, the Carbon Kingdom treated its VIPs accordingly.
Glamorous dresses and crisp tailcoats. The invitees, clad in their ball attire prepared for this night, wore varied smiles.
Entering one by one, they waited in the vast corridor until the herald announced their names and titles, granting entry to the ballroom.
They arrived in a huge dome lined with countless tables at the edges. Each moment descending the stairs upon entry let them announce their presence to those already seated at the tables, heads raised.
Step, step.
With VIPs already arriving in droves, a handsome man in a splendid tailcoat appeared.
Woooaaah—!
Amid the gentle cheers below, whispers rippled among some invitees.
"Is that Ivan Hellenger?"
"He's hot."
"Not bad-looking."
"Got skills too, right?"
"Isn't he tipped as the next Swordmaster?"
"Famous since the academy days, I bet?!"
"Comes from a lineage of magic swordsmen, after all."
A hollow chuckle tugged at my lips as I overheard.
'That Ivan Hellenger fucker—'
The guy already drew this much attention, so why the hell was he hamming it up even more to play protagonist?
'Hm?'
I swear our eyes met just now as he descended the distant stairs. Did he recognize me? Nah, probably not.... Whatever, didn't matter. Even if he does, what can you do about it?
More pressing was—
Grrrooowl—!
My damn stomach growling from hunger.
From last night till dawn, I'd done a full-body cycle on the palace gym equipment for the first time, crashed into bed exhausted, slept through lunch, and skipped the pre-ball banquet.
'Fuck.'
Fine, I admit it. Yesterday... I kinda lost my mind.
Come on, how could I not go nuts over the first real gym in this world? And then spotting a promising sprout—no, potential training partner!
Cron's face lighting up at the massive weight increase after I showed him proper form was still fresh in my mind. Hell, maybe he'd even be my training buddy in this godforsaken world—
But I snapped out of the fantasy quick.
'What bullshit. Gotta get the hell outta here ASAP.'
...That was close.
Anyway, skipping the pre-ball banquet? Zero regrets.
And I wasn't the only one.
"Hoo... ah..."
Nadia at my table, patting her belly with a forlorn look. She'd been unable to eat a thing since yesterday's meat bun eating contest. Even after dozing off from food coma, her stuffed gut kept her from wandering out.
"Hans."
"Feeling better?"
"My stomach still feels like it's gonna burst..."
"Told you I'd take your place."
"Hngg..."
Nadia slumped, mumbling regretfully with a truly wistful expression.
"They said there was kingdom-style premium steak at lunch banquet... I really wanted that..."
"Eat it tomorrow."
"Hngg..."
But her regret wasn't just that. Today's lunch was the spot to mingle before the ball. Seating arrangements tied heavily to those meals.
Thus, groups at nearby tables were already chatting away.
Head bowed low, Nadia whispered thinking I couldn't hear.
"I wanted to make friends too..."
Friends, huh. First time here, it wouldn't be easy for her.
Sure enough, she'd just tried. Peeking toward the next table gossiping about capital fashion trends.
'Hi? I'm Nadia, wanna be friends?'
All she got back was perfunctory greetings and awkward smiles.
I saw it, though—their eyes rapidly scanning her outfit, hair, and whole getup the moment she spoke. And the glance at me mid-chew on the table snacks behind her.
'Those types pick friends by status...'
Yesterday was casual; today kicked off the main events. Unlike curious invitees roaming palace facilities, the real players who saw that as tacky showed up proper today.
I shook my head at the group subtly ignoring her greeting.
Woooaaah—!!!
Not just them—cheers erupted from other tables too.
"It's Cron!"
The Black Horse Knights leader, Cron, had arrived.
"That's the Black Horse leader?"
"So cool..."
"Look at that confident stride."
But was it my imagination? Cron's shoulders seemed more slumped than yesterday, his entrance lackluster.
"Huh."
Nadia perked up at the familiar face, eyes sparkling—then blazed even brighter at the next VIP descending to the central hall.
"Kyaaaah!"
"Fabiaaan!"
"Look at that smile!"
"How can anyone be that handsome?"
"He's gorgeous."
"Totally my type..."
Golden Knights captain Fabian. His entrance drew cheers from the women that echoed to the lofty dome ceiling—unprecedented volume.
And after him.
Again and again.
Among the continuing VIP entries, only one more drew that level of roar.
Kyaaaaaah—!
The Northern Duke. Silver-haired hunk entering last before the royals.
Last in line meant the kingdom valued the Dead Sea frontline fighter that much.
'Whatever, next.'
I wasn't waiting for some Northern Duke.
After all VIPs entered.
The moment everyone rose to bow in welcome.
Pop—!
Faint starlight dust fluttered down from the soaring dome ceiling.
Click, clack.
Finally, the Carbon royals began entering.
'Here she comes—!'
At last, I could see her.
'My... return ticket!'
The princess of the Carbon Kingdom, who gathered information on Ascension.