The Royal Capital Karsion
Karsion, the royal capital. It was the starting point of Oath of Eternity and the city with the most features. It was also home to Astra Academy, where one could spend three years building stats that would help throughout the entire adventure. …But honestly, none of that mattered right now. The truly important part was that only the capital held any clue to the protagonist’s whereabouts. It was the only place where I could figure out whether the main story was still around the academy entrance arc or if it had already ended and the protagonist’s party was deep into their adventures. Of course, even that wouldn’t give me an immediate answer. I wanted nothing more than to leap out of the carriage and run straight to the protagonist’s estate, but…
After all, the protagonist’s family held quite a high position in the game’s setting. No matter how much of a country bumpkin I looked like, the adult world was cold and ruthless. If I wandered around and got my head lopped off by some gatekeeper, it would all be for nothing.
‘Now that I think about it, this is ridiculous.’
I rested my chin on my hand inside the carriage and muttered inwardly. Wasn’t this kind of story usually about an ordinary kid from a commoner family rising up to become a hero? How was it fair for some noble brat born with a silver spoon to waltz through the elite track and steal the protagonist’s spot? This was straight-up commoner discrimination.
As if uninterested in my complaints, the carriage wheels that had been rolling smoothly over Karsion’s polished stone streets came to a sudden stop. I peeked out from under the carriage’s cloth cover. Tilting my gaze upward, I saw a crude sign that read “Weapons & Armor Shop.”
A black figure hurried out from behind the glass window with such speed that “frantic” was the only word for it. The figure drew closer, flung the shop door open, and stepped out.
“Oh, Esmar! You’re finally here!”
“Yes, I’ve arrived.”
The voice calling Esmar’s name belonged to an old man short enough that, in about three years, I might actually catch up to his height. They seemed to know each other; Esmar greeted him warmly in return.
After glancing around as if looking for something, Esmar asked, “Is it just you working today, old man?”
“Aye, sent the grandson off to that academy thing or whatever it’s called.”
“Ah, so he’s already sixteen…?”
They weren’t running the shop alone, apparently. While the old man mentioned his grandson and Esmar commented on his age, the equipment that had been piled inside the carriage was steadily being carried into the shop, one piece after another. Then the old man’s eyes met mine as I sat inside the carriage. He elbowed Esmar in the side while moving the weapons and armor.
“Didn’t know you had a kid too.”
“Ah, this one? He’s from some far-off village… hup.”
Esmar answered flatly and kept hauling goods with a grunt. After lugging a considerable amount inside with plenty of groaning, he returned to the carriage and continued.
“His parents asked me to look after him for a bit, so I’ve been showing him around these past few days.”
The old man nodded repeatedly, looking convinced. “Right, no wonder he didn’t look anything like you… If he were yours, he wouldn’t be this well-behaved.”
“What?”
There was a definite sting in the old man’s words. After we finished moving everything from the carriage, we took a short rest inside the shop. I had doubted whether it would all fit, but the surprisingly spacious storeroom swallowed it all up. With the goods moved, it was time to settle the bill. The light clink of coins scratched at my ears.
“How many was it again?”
“Six of the big ones. I brought them ready.”
Six gold coins changed hands right in front of me, passed to Esmar without ceremony. Even though only a few coins were exchanged, the transaction carried an odd tension. The amount involved was far heavier than the casual conversation suggested. Half of those coins would have been enough for my entire family to move to the center of a nearby city without issue. No matter how expensive a mercenary escort was, there was always a reason to hire one.
Once the deal was done, the old man dragged out a few chairs from behind the counter, offered us each one, and sat down on his own.
“Whew, ever since that grandson of mine got dragged off there, it’s been killing me.”
I took the offered chair and sat. The sudden complaint seemed to refer to the academy he’d mentioned earlier. More than that, “dragged off”… what did that mean? I hadn’t read any of the setting details, so even when they spoke like it was obvious, I couldn’t follow. I only knew that the three years were for training stats…
I sat quietly and simply listened to their conversation.
“From sixteen to nineteen, right? That’s the mandatory period.”
“Exactly. Losing one pair of hands during the day is killing me.”
“Well, that’s what happens at your age.”
“Hey! Watch your mouth. Anyway, living in the capital isn’t all sunshine and roses either.”
Amid their joking banter, I picked up bits of information about a world I’d never cared about before. The academy period ran from age sixteen to nineteen. It seemed every citizen of the capital had to attend during those years. The reason was probably to give uneducated citizens basic common sense? A country boy from the outskirts like me had no way of knowing. Still, giving ordinary people a chance to learn was a good thing. Esmar seemed to agree.
“At least the capital provides the opportunity to learn something. That’s worthwhile.”
“Hah, worthwhile for nobles and rich folks, maybe…”
The old man snorted and draped his arm over the chair back, grumbling. The academy had looked decent enough on the game screen, so why was he so dissatisfied? The explanation that followed cleared up my confusion.
It was the same place in name only. Nobles and commoners used completely different buildings, meals, and even education. The only things they shared were the issued uniforms and a single entrance into the academy grounds. Even the uniforms required a hefty personal expense, so the uniform itself became another line dividing the privileged from the commoners.
As if that weren’t enough, the old man kept going.
“Plus, my grandson told me… during outdoor activities, when they do mock battles, they pit our kids against theirs under the excuse of ‘practical training’ and use them as training dummies.”
‘Mock battles…? Ah.’
The familiar term floated through my mind as I listened. Mock battles were a mandatory weekly event. They were low-difficulty fights meant to practice combat skills by knocking down the opposing student. Unless you deliberately threw the match, the opponent’s stats were so low that you could win just by mashing the attack button. Turns out, that was because the students on the other side were all commoners. I had been happily thinking, ‘Free stat event~’ without knowing any of that…
‘I feel incredibly guilty now…’
I swallowed the belated remorse and glanced around. The old man wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“Anyway, I don’t like that academy one bit.”
After mentioning all that behind-the-scenes detail, he kept his sour expression. Seriously, the early three-year academy arc had such a nasty setup? This world was sloppy enough about equipment equipping, yet it obsessed over weird details like this. While I sighed at the alien logic of this world…
“Hey, don’t they have stock in there?”
“Looks like they just got a new shipment. Let’s grab something before it’s gone.”
Two men’s voices drifted in from beyond the thick glass window, pointing at the shop. They had been loitering outside and now walked straight in. From the light armor covering only vital areas and the seams of their leather outfits, anyone could tell they were mercenaries. When the two entered, the old man, who had been sitting and complaining, pushed himself up with his knees.
“Welcome. What are you looking for?”
“Two short daggers and two decent longswords each?”
I watched the transaction blankly from my chair. Back in Windren, a dagger had cost ten silver and a longsword fifteen. Here, the dagger was fourteen silver and the longsword eighteen. Even here, distribution fees were no joke.