That Time an American was Reincarnated into Another World

The Talerrias and I stepped out from the spinning rings of the teleporter, entering the city proper. 

The Whetted City was the home of the Raven Family; they had been on the land for so long it was basically an ancestral home, and they owned nearly everything within its jurisdiction. 

The Raven Family wasn’t just a martial powerhouse; with nothing else, their earliest attempts at establishing a separate martial school would’ve been run roughshod over by the Magisterium and jealous nobles. Their economy was practically entirely self-sufficient: rich mines supplied rare minerals and metals to feed their rapidly expanding smithies, surrounding fertile lands meant various outrunning villages could supply the urban center with food, and geographical isolation meant any competition would be a hefty, and unsound, investment. All this led to an incredible independence from the Kingdom; with nobody capable of stunting the Raven Family’s growth economically, socially, or otherwise, the Whetted City would make a perfect isolated bastion. 

And all that wasn’t even mentioning the support the Talerria family gave them as allies. It really seemed like the Raven Family and its city was the perfect place to live.

Contrary to stereotype, the city wasn’t all brutalist and practical; we stepped out of the Teleporter Nexus to a marble pagoda dozens of stories tall, gilded trims adding just a touch of brilliant gold. 

Massive sculptures perched on ledges drew my eye to the murals. Each level had stories etched across its surface. Depictions of sweeping battlefields, furious tangles with ferocious beasts, and portraits of great men and women of the past sprawled across pure white marble. 

Each piece was inlaid and accented like the trims were, and I couldn’t help but compare it to Roman architecture despite the distinctly Asian pagoda resemblance.  

From the Nexus we walked into the strangely empty central plaza before the palace, the center of the entire city where only a few dozen people hurried about. Some were simply passing through while others were admiring or paying respects to the five titanic statues in the center. 

They all stood a little over 100 meters tall, one prominent from the rest. A plaque at its foundation bore the erratic Crest of the Raven Family’s founding ancestor. 

That ancestor was dressed in primal gear, hoisting a spear up in victory while gazing menacingly off into the horizon, as if warning anybody who might show his family hostility that his deceased spirit might just come back once again to destroy them if they dared to attack. It was clear that, back then, he had fought long and hard to carve out a place in the world for him and his descendants. 

To his side was his wife who held a bow, almost the perfect picture of Artemis. She stood slightly behind him, one hand on the bow and another cradling her husband’s arm. 

Surprisingly, the next statue wasn’t anyone in the Raven Family but, as I learned from the plaque underneath, was actually the founding ancestor of the Talerria Family.

She cradled a wooden staff, metal entwined around a massive chunk of roughly-hewn crystal shaped like a beast’s heart. Despite the rather stern aura the staff put out, her face was gentle, eyes closed and undisturbed under thick obscuring robes. 

The final two, who stood behind the two women, were both men and prior Chiefs of the family who preserved the Family and City through catastrophic battles. One drove back the Scourge; the other, rebellious families seeking the easy disposal of a rival. 

Those two Chiefs, or Generals, flanked the two women and faced the East and West, two Guardians against all that might threaten the Raven Family, a symbol of their perseverance. 

It was a majestic display that inspired pride in the hearts of all who looked upon it. It seemed these people were artists as well, because I’d never seen more masterfully carved sculptures in my life. 

Even I found myself feeling a wave of valor rising up into my chest as I stared at those five statues. And all around us, children and their parents would bow their heads in reverence, a silent collective pride rising from around us. 

“Are you alright?”

I felt Umara tug my arm from the side, causing me to tear my gaze away and look down at her. 

“Yea, I’m fine.”

“Come on then.”

“Right.”

She pulled me along, the rest of the family already walking off. 

From the Plaza we got a carriage which brought us to another area of the city. And it was during the drive that I couldn’t help but sigh. 

Umara nudged me, making me glance at her, her face filling with concern. 

I glanced at the others inside the carriage before suddenly asking Umara a question, breaking the silence. 

“What did you think of those statues?”

“Me? Well I’ve seen them several times before. This isn’t my first visit.”

“I mean conceptually. What do you think when you see something like that?”

“Hmm…”

She paused for a second, forced to consider her response for a little longer by the expectant gazes of her family, apparently interested despite the spontaneity of the question. 

“...I suppose I think about how amazing the artists were to create such a thing. Same with the Palace. It’s no wonder that the Raven family is famous for their artistic skill as well. Why? What do you think?”

Umara masterfully deflected the bulk of attention back to me, raising the question as to why I had asked in the first place.

I gazed out the window, avoiding eye contact as I also formulated my words. 

“Well, I think about the Raven Family itself. When I hear about their sheer dominance, their hold over precious mines, their skill in art and weapons production, their mastery in martiality, and then the legends surrounding all of their historical figures, I can’t help but feel that it must be an incredible privilege to be a part of that family.”

“...Elaborate.”

Umara probed further, not completely understanding. 

I rubbed my chin. 

“It’s a matter of prestige and pride. Could you tell me that, after gazing upon those statues, you don’t feel any sense of glory? You can practically see the Aura of valor radiating from the stone. It’s a symbol of conquest, of triumph against all odds and a sign that everything those ancestors fought for bore fruit. I mean, just look at them now. Look around and tell me that all this isn’t exalted by their children, their subjects? And if you were a part of that family, how could you not feel endless pride in it? Just think about how good it would feel to have that kind of pride in something, anything.”

“...”

A strange silence settled over the cabin as I finished, minds racing to process my statement. 

The Duchess responded.

“I do hope you’re not trying to imply that the Talerria family doesn’t carry the same pride. Our founding ancestor holds a similar position of prestige with them.”

“And yet you don’t have the same statue in your own city.”

She went silent for a second, perhaps a bit caught off guard by my blunt rebuttal. 

I continued before she could take offense to it.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not questioning your pride or your respect for your ancestors. I’m just saying that there’s a clear difference in how the two families carry themselves. As soon as we stepped out of that teleporter, I could clearly feel that everything around me fell under the jurisdiction and influence of the Raven Family. As far as I’m concerned, this place is its own society independent from the Kingdom itself. They don’t have statues of the King. They have statues of their famous warriors, generals, and Chiefs. When you’re here, it feels like this family would go to war against anyone who dared to threaten them, even if it was the Kingdom. No other city has made me feel that way.”

“...That’s true.”

The Duchess nodded slowly, mulling over my words a bit longer. 

What the Raven Family had done by putting up all of the statues, monuments, and art was distinguish itself from everyone else. So unlike them, every other noble family were mere leaders of a city beneath them. They weren’t a part of the city itself. 

If the Talerria Family were to suddenly be kicked out of the City of Joffrun and get replaced by another noble family, close to nothing would change. Perhaps some economic policies might shift, but otherwise, everything would proceed as normal. 

But removing the Raven Family from the Whetted City was impossible unless you razed it to the ground, completely erasing every fragment of influence they had. Such a thing would be necessary because their image was quite literally plastered everywhere through their art and culture. 

The difference was striking. 

In this light, who really owned their city?

Duchess Talerria was the City Lord of Joffrun. But did her city reflect that? Did her city tell its inhabitants that her family was the one who had developed it from the ground up? Did her city know of her family’s sacrifices and battles that had led them to attain the power they held today?

No. All they had was a little ancestral hall behind their estate, removed from the people. And who cared about that?

Who would really care if they were replaced one day? Other than their own family, who truly cared about the Talerria name?

I was almost certain that everybody we passed by on the carriage had at least one or two stories about the Raven Family legends. 

I knew the Duchess understood all of this as she frowned while pondering.

Then, it was Duke Ikhor who spoke. 

“I suppose then, the only question a family such as ours would need to ask would be whether we feel it's necessary to do something like the Ravens.”

“That’s true. Maybe you don’t. I had just been thinking about it because seeing those statues was rather inspiring. It’s amazing what art like that can do for a city or nation’s pride. And it’s amazing what that kind of pride can do for its people.”

“Mm, indeed. I’d actually never thought of such things before, at least like that. You’re quite the thinker, eh? Then again, you are a Summoner. I’m not sure you can help it.”

I just hummed in response, the conversation fading as we arrived at our destination, replaced by ever more enthusiastic cheering. The stadium before us was as grand as all the other monuments in this city, called the Golden Bowl. It looked like it was built from the shattered chunks of marble boulders and then fused together into a single construction by pouring liquid gold between the gaps. However it was made, it looked as rich as it was creatively envisioned. 

Primarily used as an arena for battles and tournaments, the Golden Bowl was in close proximity to and owned by the Martial League, the Raven Family’s famous martial arts college. Only now, because the school was on break, it had been repurposed as a racetrack. 

I walked beside Umara as we entered the Bowl, a butler under the Raven Chief meeting us at the entrance. 

He was sharp, looking more like a guardian than a butler, and carried a huge battleaxe on his back. He greeted us, forming a perfect right angle at his waist. 

“A pleasure to have you with us, Duchess Talerria. The Chief awaits you in the host’s suite. Allow me to guide you all.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded, the butler snapping to attention and leading us in. 

We were met with the roars of thousands of people as we rose beyond the confines of the structure’s halls, emerging onto a large set of stairs providing access to the stands. 

At the topmost tier was the suite, which we headed straight into to meet with the Raven Family Chief. 

I felt a surge of expectations from within. Based on everything I’d seen, my standards for the leader of this city were sky high. 

My Aura responded to my curiosity and anticipation, probing outward, opening itself, trying to pick up any shred of the powerful presence that should reside within the suite. 

And it found the anomaly when we entered. 

“Ah, Talexia, Ikhor. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise, Ironheart.”

The Duchess smiled as she went to shake the Chief’s hand. 

At his side were two individuals, a woman and a man. 

The woman was a head shorter than the others. She carried a prickly presence, as sharp as her blade, and she didn’t do much to conceal it. It was like she could cut me with her gaze. 

An atrocious strength abounded within the man. It was like his muscles exerted power upon gravity itself. He seemed heavy, like a Hummer compressed into a man. 

As for the Chief himself…

I felt nothing. 

He was a black hole, exerting no force upon his surroundings or making me feel any particular way. He seemed powerless, completely ordinary. 

But it was precisely because my Aura could pick up nothing that I felt a significant level of apprehension. I almost hesitated to approach, my mind instinctively going into overdrive in an attempt to either get a read on the slightest bit of his power or figure out a way to flee, which I knew was impossible. 

I froze behind the group, Umara turning toward me in concern. 

I felt her Aura reach out toward mine, opening up the connection for my Telepathy, letting my mind into hers. 

(What’s wrong?)

(...Can’t you feel it? The Chief’s Aura.)

(No, I can’t feel anything.)

(Exactly…)

I struggled for a few seconds, scratching my head as if to stimulate my fading senses. It felt like I was getting sucked into his Aura, like I didn’t want to look away; I knew that feeling was unnatural somehow. 

Umara looked back at the Chief, but feeling my stress, she looked back and took my hand in comfort. 

I muttered inwardly as I finally turned my gaze. 

(What a fucking monster. He might be worse than Apocryon.)

(Who’s Apocryon?)

(The most dangerous individual I’ve ever encountered. He has the most powerful Aura I know of, yet this man feels to be at least on his level, if not higher. I guess the differences would only be in how they wielded it, not necessarily their power. I at least don’t feel like I’m going to die in front of this guy.)

I took some subtle deep breaths. It felt like my ears were ringing, and even though my vision was fine, I had a hard time focusing on anything. That Aura seemed to scramble the senses, an incredibly advantageous tool for any knight to have, yet I was sure that was nowhere near the extent of its abilities. 

(He’s coming.)

“Hm?”

I almost panicked, raising my head in alarm at her words, yet I couldn’t actually seem to see him coming. 

Until his hand touched my shoulder, all my senses returning to me in full clarity. 

“Sorry about that. Are you okay now?”

The man smiled in front of me. He was only a bit taller than me, but his build was much stockier. 

He wore a nice set of casual clothing, his vest seeming to bind him in and his medium length gray hair flowing freely around his shoulders. 

Umara had told me that the Raven family, contrary to their namesake, had predominantly white and gray hair. There were several people within the suite who had the same hair as him, obviously from the family. It was almost like their indicator of royal blood. 

I quickly composed myself, realizing that several people were staring. I must’ve been acting strangely. I could barely remember anything from when my senses were scattered. 

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Heh, there’s no reason to apologize for having such a keen Aura. I normally don’t have to reign it in because those who can sense it in the first place are also at such a high level that their senses can withstand it. So I suppose you’re the outlier here.”

“I guess…”

I gave him a grim smile as he chuckled, returning to his seat. 

At the front of the suite behind the glass window, there were several rows of seats that people used to view the field down below. 

His seat was in the middle of those rows, a smooth path carved out before him for his exclusive viewing pleasure. 

“I’ll be sure to control myself. You have my apologies. Please, come relax. The Races are just getting started.”

He motioned to the whole family, Talexia and Ikhor taking up a seat beside him while Umara, myself, and her sister sat beside them. We had our own row to ourselves. 

From there I was able to calm myself and look out the window, finally seeing what these races were all about. 

On the ground at the starting line was a row of slim winged creatures. Their hardened leather almost looked like a carapace at first glance, giving me the impression that it was some insectoid creature. 

But they were definitely regular animals, only their body structures were incredibly streamlined for quick flight. 

Their riders looked like a bunch of knights, and their gear was designed to sit flush with the creatures they rode, like a professional sports bike racer. 

They practically lay across the backs of their Gliders, as Umara eventually informed me. Their heads were positioned directly behind the Glider’s own and their legs fell just on top of the base of their long tail. Curiously, their tails had an interesting flap on them, almost like a sharp rudder. Their pointed snouts were also rather ferocious. 

“Riders, to your marks.”

An official stepped atop a stand, raising a small staff into the air. 

All the riders moved their Gliders just before the starting line. There were only 5 lanes on this track and each lane had a staggered line. 

Once staged, the official’s staff glowed. 

“Get set.”

The Gliders stilled as their riders lowered, their wings unfurling, tensing with explosive strength.

The arena filled with a nervous silence, the cheers of the audience reducing to a low rumble. For a few seconds, the hum pervaded, then the official brought his staff down. 

With a sharp explosion, all the Gliders shot forward with shocking speed, the wind being kicked up all around them, leaving behind a plume of dust. 

I watched as their bodies shot down the 200 yard long straightaway. Slight gaps began to appear between each one. Then they hit the curve, and the difference in speed became apparent. 

Their bodies tilted, their heads only a foot or two above the ground, and yet they didn’t touch it with their taloned feet. 

The tips of their talons only came down between each stroke of their wings, stabilizing them before they shot off with another burst of speed. Each did their best to retain their momentum, but at least along the curve, it took far more agility in order to turn while maintaining such a high speed. 

Wings flapped as they made their sharp turn before landing on the next straightaway. The first one to hit the straightaway was able to put an even larger gap between them and the others. It was clear that clearing the turns the fastest was the key to victory. 

First place gradually widened the gap until they completed the lap, shooting across the finish line, the rider rising from the Glider with a cheer. 

“Winner! Number 49, Gabal!”

The stadium roared with the excitement, joy, and groans of tens of thousands, their infectious energy bringing a smile to my face. 

It was bigger than a football stadium, and, with magical engineering, it was as tall as the professional stadiums on Earth. It could easily hold just as many, perhaps even pushing a hundred thousand. 

Every city needed a great source of entertainment, and it seemed rather clear that this place, despite being owned and utilized by the Martial League, was the venue of choice for the city’s citizens. Whether it was races like these or battles in the arena put on by the knights during tournaments, the stadium turned activities into foci of entertainment. 

I settled into my chair, my smile widening as the next race went off.