Gacha System: Reborn In The Hardest World

"Blythe…" He repeated, locking the name in his memory, finally having one to place with the breathtaking beauty. 

The wheels of the carriage rolled and rolled, though it was impossible to know where he was, considering it was a foreign world, and the windows were kept shut. 

"With that being said, the region you find yourself in is part of the Peonyvale Domain. All of this land is under my jurisdiction. I see every bit of what occurs within it–your arrival was no exception," Blythe explained, grabbing the steaming, porcelain cup that was sitting still on the stand beside her seat. 

"See every bit…? I'm guessing that's in a literal sense," Gael remarked under his breath, propping himself up against the cushioned seat. 

Blythe nodded with a satisfied expression, sipping from her cup before setting it down on a plate, "You managed to not only defeat multiple Venator soldiers, but you also held your own against a legend among the Venator: Rouge, the Crimson Prince."

"That guy I fought?" Gael recalled, foremost remembering the sensation of being stabbed from every angle. 

"Indeed," Blythe nodded her head. "It's not an easy feat, that." 

"The Venator…What the hell is their problem, anyway? Spouting all this crap about "Outlanders" and how I need to die. I didn't do a damn thing…" Gael questioned, shaking his head in frustration. 

It was his earnest feelings, left with that of his first welcome into the world of Gaia; a sour greeting, undoubtedly. Still, he couldn't help but feel some sort of relief in the fact he was found by somebody who took his side. 

Blythe looked at him with her crystalline irises, almost seeming to read him like an open book, "The Venator are a military branch serving the Crown directly, in equal power to the Knights. Some might say the Venator have even more favor than the Knights in the eyes of the King, even." 

"The Crown? You're saying those guys aren't just some villainous group? They're backed by the King…like damn heroes?" Gael processed what he was told, unable to grasp the absurdity of it. 

"There is a lot you don't yet know of this world, Gael. Don't worry, there is time to learn, all due with patience and caution," Blythe assured him with a smile. 

Even with such words given to him, something still felt off about this all, aside from the Venators or the Crown–it was the woman that sat across from him in the carriage. 

"I still don't get it…" Gael muttered. 

"What is it?" Blythe asked curiously. 

"I just don't understand–if people like me are branded as "kill-on-sight" by the King himself, why're you helping me? What's in it for you?" Gael asked. "Having me around is a risk to you, isn't it?"

A smirk perched itself on the silver-haired girl's lips as she traced her finger along the rim of the cup, glancing at him with her bewitching eyes, "You're perceptive. I like that. Of course, I am not taking you in solely out of the goodness of my heart."

"I figured," Gael remarked. 

It seemed his comment stoked a further smile from the woman as she continued on, "I see the potential in your strength. A fine gem that can be refined, cultivated into something greater–something capable of carving the path for change."

"Change?" He repeated. 

"Change," Blythe clarified. "I believe this entire country needs change. A blind, oafish monarchy should be cut down."

Clearer and clearer, he began to place just what sort of person the silver-haired lady was; focused, driven, perhaps forward, swaying between kind and cruel. 

"I'm assuming you want to take the place of that monarch, then?" Gael asked. 

Blythe smiled at the presumption, "For the betterment of the kingdom of Mastorn, it is the only choice."

"And I guess, somehow, I'll be able to help you with that," Gael said half-heartedly, not quite seeing how he would be capable of managing such a grandiose goal. 

The uncertainty brewing inside of him was magnified by the carriage wheels going over a bump in the road, churning along as he could hear the driver outside shouting at the steed. 

"Patience and caution, like I said," Blythe reminded him. "That is all down the road. So, what do you say?"

Giving it a moment to ponder the question, it wasn't as if it was hard to answer, "...Well, it's not like I have much of a choice. It's that, or I get dumped back on the road and left to hitchhike."

"I'm not that cruel, but…effectively, yes," Blythe answered with a small smile. 

"Well, I'm in then–as long as there's a soft bed and warm meals in the picture," Gael agreed with his own conditions. 

"It's settled, then. You will become my knight, Gael," Blythe said with a soft, yet authoritative tone. 

While it was all a lot to take in, the direction he was heading sounded a whole lot better than being stranded in the forest, hunted by masked men. 

'A knight, huh? Just a few hours ago, I was planning on locking myself in my room and gaming all night. Can somebody like me really be that sort of person?' He considered, leaning his head against the interior. 

It wasn't much longer until the carriage came to a stop, bringing him to the estate of the one that had saved him from an untimely demise. 

"Woah," Gael let out as he stepped out of the carriage. 

Even beneath the moonlight, it was easy to get swept away by the scale and majesty of it; the mansion guarded by colossal, pink-and-silver trees. The paved walkway was neighbored by a garden of colorful flowers of all complexions. 

Equally lavish and wondrous, the Peonyvale estate seemed like something out of this world, though he reminded himself he now stood in another. Just the courtyard was larger than the entire properties of wealthy people he'd seen in his life. 

"Come along now," Blythe said, gesturing to him to follow with a soft smile. "I'm sure you'd like supper. I know I do."

"Right. Yeah," Gael nodded, walking along the pathway between the colorful trees and flowers.