Athena's General Reincarnated in Another World

I sat in a chair along the corridor, the cold stone beneath me doing little to ease the tension coiled in my body. I watched the constant flow of people as they hurried past with purpose—nobles cloaked in embroidered finery, messengers gripping scrolls like lifelines, and officers whispering urgently behind gloved hands. Their footsteps echoed in waves, a steady reminder that the palace never truly slept.

At regular intervals, armed guards stood motionless, their armor gleaming under the flickering light of wall sconces enchanted to mimic sunlight. They were silent sentinels, each one a living monument to the power still held within these halls. It didn't matter that the royals were expected to leave the city soon—this place would remain under control.

Apsalon was the central nexus of the three kingdoms, and because of that, it would never truly sleep.

I stood and began to walk, eyes drawn to the windows as the outside world passed by in blurred silence. But my thoughts weren't on the city.

They were on her.

A quiet ache settled deep in my chest. I wasn't sure if it was because of my connection with Cylla… or something else. But what I did know—what I felt too sharply to ignore—was that fighting with her hurt more than I ever expected.

Out of everyone in this world, she was the one person I thought I'd never lose.

Maybe because she's the only one who's ever truly seen me—and still chose to stay.

Should I just go home?

My feelings for Cylla weren't like the ones I had for Chloe or Kinue. They were... different. Not more human. Not less. Just hers. I didn't love her the way people write about in stories. I loved her as she was. Her presence. Her voice. Her friendship.

Maybe that was the soul-deep love she always talked about.

It had only been a few hours since I hurt her, but every minute since felt like it stretched forever.

I let out a long breath.

Then—

"There's a strange scent… around you… it's getting closer… be careful…"

The voice echoed through my mind, low and rumbling—an ancient growl that sent a chill crawling down my spine.

Jormungandr.

I froze. That was the first time she'd spoken to me in over a year.

And just as suddenly as she came, I felt her presence fade again, slipping back into slumber.

What do you mean, a strange scent? What am I supposed to be careful of?

"Jormungandr?" I whispered inwardly. "Are you still there?"

No response.

I scanned my surroundings. Just the usual guards standing at attention, unmoving.

Then a voice rang out through the corridor.

"Nathan Evenhart?"

I turned toward the sound. A soldier in golden armor stood at the far end, flanked by others. A royal guard—of Apsalon, no less.

A small group approached, and my instincts sharpened. Something was off.

And then I recognized them.

King Charles of Apsalon.

And his son, Duncan.

Is this what she was warning me about? I thought, tension coiling in my gut. Why now?

"I'm here," I said carefully, straightening my posture.

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The soldiers stepped aside, forming a path.

"The King requests a few minutes of your time," the leading guard informed me.

I nodded.

King Charles approached, regal and unreadable, his son a quiet shadow at his side.

"Nathan Evenhart," the king said with a smile. "I believe this is the first time we've spoken directly since those... intense meetings in the war council."

He gave a short laugh, as if testing the waters of civility.

"To what do I owe the honor of your personal visit?" I asked, forcing a polite smile.

He stepped closer.

"I came for something that caught my attention," he said simply.

From a compartment in his bracer, he pulled out a velvet pouch heavy with glittering gemstones... and a scroll. Not just any scroll—this one was trimmed with golden thread, the kind used for royal decrees and contracts of the highest authority.

That's a lot of money... and that document—what is it?

"I've wanted to have this conversation for some time now, Nathan," the king said. "I've come to purchase your moon panther cub."

His words struck the corridor like a thunderclap.

Every soldier behind him turned their gaze to me.

Behind the king, his aides and nobles stood in tense silence.

Everyone knew what this meant.

When a king asks for something—personally—you don't say no.

A royal request... isn't really a request.

I met his eyes.

"My moon panther cub is not for sale."

And in that moment, I heard the shift in the air.

Gasps.

Tension.

Disbelief.

But I didn't flinch.

"How dare he?"

"What does he think he's doing?"

"He denied the king?"

Whispers erupted all around me, laced with disbelief and outrage. The air thickened like a drawn blade, heavy with judgment.

King Charles stared at me, visibly taken aback—as if, in all his years wearing a crown, he'd never heard the word 'no'.

"Silence," the king commanded.

The corridor fell quiet instantly, but their stares didn't waver. A hundred eyes bore into me, some in shock, others in growing hostility.

His expression shifted, from surprise to something more composed. Almost... amused. But I saw it—that flicker in his eyes.

He didn't like my answer. Not one bit.

"I understand how you must feel," he said, his tone now smoother, as if speaking to a stubborn child. "Having such a creature serve you must feel empowering. It's a rare thing. Only those who've bonded with a powerful familiar truly know that feeling."

Duncan stepped forward, hands behind his back like a proper prince.

"My father was intrigued by your little feline," he said with thinly veiled disdain. "Personally, I didn't see anything that impressive. My Asalon Manticore can fly—but he said your panther might be developing shadow magic. A lost element, thought to be a myth."

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch.

The king pulled out the golden-edged scroll again and stepped closer.

"As you know, Nathan, my family breeds and tames wild tigers. We have centuries of experience handling powerful beasts. A moon panther like yours? We could bring out its full potential. I've taken a personal interest in this familiar of yours."

His eyes lit up with something close to greed.

"Now that it's tamed, the soul bond can be transferred. Once that's done, the creature will obey me without question."

He was smiling.

Smiling.

I felt the vein in my temple pulse.

I held his gaze. "As I said, King Charles, my familiar is not for sale. She's... family. I care for her as more than a creature of magic. She's not a pet. She's someone I love."

"And besides," I added, voice steady, "let's be honest—no one in their right mind would trade a powerful familiar in times like these. Not with the continent in the state it's in."

The king's smile thinned. Slowly, deliberately, he handed me the scroll.

"You're right, boy. Which is why I've come with a worthy offer."

He straightened his shoulders, like a performer about to deliver his grand act.

"This document grants you ownership of ten skyhorses. Not just any—but my family's breed. No one outside House Asalon has ever held their trust. Knights ride them, yes—but the beasts only obey us."

He leaned in slightly.

"And I'm not giving you just one. I'm offering you ten."

My fingers brushed the scroll, and I forced myself to examine it, pretending to weigh the offer with cautious interest. I needed time—to think, to respond, and not escalate things too fast.

"They're all males, of course," the king continued. "We can't have you breeding your own stock, can we?"

He chuckled.

"Along with the mounts, we'll provide flight training. You can distribute them to your most trusted allies, form your own aerial squadron. Imagine it: you, soaring across your duchy, eyes on every corner of your land."

His hand clamped down firmly on my shoulder.

And then his tone dropped, filled with weight.

"And listen well, Nathan. I'm offering you something no man has ever received."

He gestured toward the sack of jewels, still held by a guard.

"One hundred more just like this. Not coins—treasures. Rare gems. Priceless relics. Enough wealth to shift the fate of empires. Even for someone like you."

He stepped even closer, voice low and commanding.

"With my personal protection, I'll turn your agricultural duchy into a military stronghold. Magical technologies, elite training, the full support of the kingdom. Your influence will become unshakable. Your legacy... legendary."

He smiled.

"So. What do you say, boy? Ready to accept my once-in-a-lifetime offer?"

For a moment, I just looked at him.

At the expectation burning in his eyes.

At the self-assured grin.

At his hand on my shoulder, gripping like a vice.

Then I raised the scroll and gently offered it back to him.

"I'm deeply honored by your offer, Your Majesty," I said. "But I'm afraid I have to decline. There isn't a vault on this continent deep enough to buy someone I call family."

The words left my mouth like steel.

The king's hand froze.

And his face—

That carefully curated smile shattered.

Replaced by a scowl as dark as thunder.