Although the three of them's life in the forest had been idyllic since Nana created the refuge in the great tree, Joel knew the time had come to return to civilization. His commitment to the Cult of the Dawn remained, as did the promise he made to Liria. Sooner or later, he had to contact the organization's agents and request their extraction from that world in order to return to the headquarters. Only there could Ariel and Liam receive the magical education and proper training they deserved.

  However, Joel couldn't let his guard down. Although more than two years had passed since they entered the forest, he had no way of knowing if they were still looking for him. Therefore, before taking any risks with the others, he decided to first explore alone. His objective was clear: to reconnoitre the surrounding kingdoms, gather information on recent events, and, above all, try to locate the Cult of the Dawn agents. An emergency checklist that every member must memorize before their deployment to the field.

  Ariel and Liam weren't happy about the news of their departure. Although they had both grown enormously in skill, courage, and maturity during their time in the forest, Joel remained a pillar in their lives. However, for him, leaving them in Nana's care in the tree was the safest decision.

  Before leaving, Joel made sure they lacked absolutely nothing. He left them a huge amount of supplies: preserved meat, water, grain, canned goods, candy, and so on. He left them a wide variety of food obtained from hunting animals and created with his skill. It was one of the greatest benefits he had gained from his dream memories: the ability to replicate not only weapons, but also the luxuries of their modern lives.

  An example of a luxury that the children took advantage of is when he created a portable video game console for each of them. They both quickly learned how to use it, even learning the language of the menus and text without much effort. Before long, they were competing and cooperating as if they'd grown up with technology at their fingertips. Joel gave them a bunch of new games and batteries before they left. He knew it was only a small consolation, but if he had learned anything in all his dream lives, it was that even small pleasures could help them cope with waiting and loneliness.

  Joel left one day at dawn, when the sky had just begun to turn golden and the shadows still slept among the roots of the great tree. On the dining room table, he left a perfectly decorated chocolate cake, a luxury he rarely allowed himself to replicate due to the high energy cost involved. But Ariel adored him, and he knew it. He didn't need words to express his affection for them and disliked melodramatic goodbyes, so he left only a note on the same table. He spoke only to Nana, asking her to take good care of the two siblings and explaining that he would return as soon as possible with news and a plan for their safe escape.

  He knew that leaving the brothers was a heartbreak. But it had to be done, for the safety he could offer them in that refuge was limited, and he couldn't postpone his duty forever.

  Before embarking on the journey, Joel carefully prepared his disguise. He crafted himself a sober but functional outfit, much like that of an itinerant merchant. Neither too poor to inspire pity nor too opulent to attract thieves. He grew a wispy, trimmed beard and dyed both his hair and facial hair a light brown with a dye conjured from his memories of the modern world. He also cut his hair shorter than usual, completely changing his recognizable appearance.

  Beneath his cloak, he designed leather holsters fitted to his torso, on both sides, where his pistols would rest. His inspiration came from those Wild West movies he still vividly remembered from his dreams. The intention was clear: to allow for a quick draw if necessary. On his belt, his katana remained firmly secured, discreet but ever-present. He wasn't going to underestimate the outside world, even if he tried to camouflage himself in it.

  His destination was one of the last towns he had visited during his escape, more than two years ago. With a steady and efficient pace, it took him only four days to reach the vicinity. The landscape had changed seasonally, but not enough to disorient him. And as he descended a hill in the morning mist of the fifth day, he spotted the first houses with sloping roofs and smoking chimneys.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  There were no visible traces of the former state of emergency that, at one time, had put the region on edge. The streets were quiet, the markets bustled with activity, and routine took precedence over memory. Apparently, enough years had passed for the waters to calm. Joel didn't detect any uncomfortable glances or inquisitive questions. His merchant's attire, coupled with his confident demeanor, worked perfectly. He was welcomed with open arms by the locals, always eager to exchange goods or hear news from abroad.

  Subtly, in scattered conversations, Joel managed to piece together some of the picture he had left behind. According to local residents, the emergency that hit the region at that time lasted about two months, followed by half a year of strict surveillance. However, that was history for most. The incident had occurred in a remote area, and over time, attention shifted to new concerns. For them, it was a stain on the past.

  Reassured by the apparent normalcy, Joel soon fully embraced his new identity. He bought a horse-drawn cart from a local and ended up loading it with local agricultural products. Nothing too valuable, but enough to justify his future travels.

  Once ready, he set off for the nearest city, determined to integrate himself as a trader, while calmly and cautiously gathering the information he needed. His mind was constantly on alert, evaluating every sign, every word, every face. But for the first time in a long time, the outside world didn't seem to be against him.

  The route took him through several scattered villages, and he soon encountered problems that, as he would later discover, were a daily occurrence for merchants in rural areas. The first appeared in the form of the so-called "road patrols": small groups of armed guards, in shabby uniforms and on horseback, who moved along the main roads with the official mission of "maintaining order."

  In practice, they seemed more interested in striking up conversations with the merchants they passed—conversations that, curiously, always led to the possibility of receiving a donation or small gift.

  Joel had no experience with these customs, and his first encounter was awkward. The patrol leader, a man with a sparse mustache and a smile that didn't reach his eyes, asked him a couple of vague questions about his cargo, its origin, and its destination. Joel, unsure whether to be polite, evasive, or direct, eventually admitted that he was new to the business.

  One of the guards, younger and less patient, decided to cut him a little slack:

  "Look, sir," he said, crossing his arms, "this works simply. Everyone pitches in with something small... and we happily risk our lives to keep the bandits at bay."

  The message was clear. Joel, after a brief hesitation, took out a couple of silver coins and placed them in the patrol leader's outstretched hand. The gleam of the metal seemed to immediately soften the tense expressions; there was laughter, pats on the back, and a "bon voyage" that sounded more like a warning than a courtesy.

  As they resumed walking, Joel realized that this was just the first invisible toll he would have to pay if he wanted to navigate those roads without problems.

  And so it was, for soon another problem appeared: huge holes appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the road, so perfect that it was obvious someone with magic and too much free time had made them. Joel got out of the carriage to inspect it, and as if they had been hiding behind a bush practicing smiles, several “friendly” individuals appeared, offering their repair services.

  For a moment, Joel seriously considered putting a bullet between each of their eyes. The disguise had worked too well, as all of them, without a single wizard capable of detecting his Level 4 magical potential, truly believed he was a poor, clueless merchant.

  In the end, he took a deep breath, paid them a few coins, and let them perform their "miraculous" repair. Not because they deserved it, but because he wasn't in the mood for attention... yet.

  Then, just as the city loomed over the horizon, Joel came across the "pleasant" surprise of a huge security checkpoint blocking the entrance. Guards everywhere, checking merchandise, interrogating people... and he, without realizing it, had been caught in a line that seemed to move slower than a snail with a hangover. There was no escape: he would have to go through the damn checkpoint.

  His instincts screamed that this smelled fishy. He mentally prepared himself to run, to jump over a horse, or even to cut his way through with his sword if something really went wrong.

  When his turn came and the guard asked for his business ID, something he didn't have and didn't know he needed, Joel simply thought, "Fuck it, let's try to solve this the way everything seems to work around here."

  He settled back as if annoyed by the inconvenience, recalling several gangster movies where the protagonist "fixed" things with a few bills and a cold stare. He took out some silver coins and offered them, revealing a bit of his magical aura, and with the most dangerous smile he could muster. He wouldn't take "no" for an answer, leaning toward the guard as if telling him that refusing would be... unhealthy.

  And it actually worked. The guards, with a mixture of discomfort, fear, and forced respect, accepted the bribe as if it were a poisoned gift and let him through. Joel drove his wagon into the city calmly, as if he'd always known this was the way to do it.