Breaking the Multiverse for You

At the center of the camp, Edran, the senior mage of Armond, stood by the protective formations. He was a tall man with sharp features and an aura of quiet competence. He greeted Magda with a formal bow.

Edran: "Your Highness, welcome to Armond's camp. These formations have been carefully maintained to repel beasts and weaken stronger threats. The aura nodes are reinforced weekly to ensure stability."

Magda knelt by one of the glowing glyphs, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of the runes.

Magda: "The layering is efficient, but the distribution is uneven. This creates blind spots that could be exploited by faster or more intelligent beasts. May I?"

Edran nodded, curious. Magda adjusted the frequency of the aura flow, her crimson eyes glowing faintly as she infused the runes with her mana. The lines brightened and began to spread more evenly across the formation.

Edran (impressed): "A remarkable adjustment, Your Highness. With this modification, the formations will require less maintenance and provide stronger coverage."

Magda (smiling): "A small improvement, but one that could make a difference."

Drifter, observing from a distance, sighed yet again.

Drifter (to himself): "Now she's fixing our formations. At this rate, I'll need to request royal quarters. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if the Duchess herself showed up next."

One of his aides chuckled.

Aide: "You have to admit, sir, she's impressive."

Drifter: "She's trouble. The kind of trouble that attracts more trouble. Mark my words, if the Emperor shows up next, I'm resigning."

The soldiers who had been gawking nearby couldn't contain their admiration.

Soldier #1: "She's not just gorgeous—she's a genius."

Soldier #2: "Definitely out of our league."

Magda, having finished her adjustments, turned to Edran.

Magda: "The adjustments should hold, but I'd recommend reinforcing the central nodes with triple-layered runes. That should ensure durability during beast tides."

Edran nodded, clearly impressed.

Edran: "Thank you, Your Highness. Your expertise is greatly appreciated."

As Magda walked away, the soldiers stood straighter, inspired by her presence. Drifter, however, looked like he could use a drink—or ten.

Back in the barracks, Micheal sat with Breeze curled up at his feet. He adjusted his manbun, which had come loose during the day's chaos.

Micheal (to himself): "She's here. What now? Do I just avoid her? No, that's cowardly. But what if she's angry I didn't call?"

Breeze yawned, oblivious to his master's turmoil, as Micheal sighed deeply, bracing himself for whatever the next day would bring.

The evening sun cast a warm glow over the Rowdy Barracks as the recruits returned from training, their chatter blending with the clatter of equipment. Micheal, his messy manbun barely holding together after the day's drills, stood near the entrance, adjusting the straps of his improvised armor. His shining blue eyes, tired yet sharp, scanned the yard absentmindedly as he cradled Breeze in his arms.

Breeze wiggled free suddenly, its sharp nose twitching at an unfamiliar yet familiar scent. Micheal didn't notice at first, distracted by the day's exhaustion. The intelligent little wind-dog darted forward, weaving through boots and gear with surprising agility.

Micheal (startled): "Breeze! Where are you going now?"

The wind-dog bolted straight toward a group of figures entering the camp. Among them was Magda, her off-white robes catching the light, the imperial insignia on her chest subtly gleaming. Her crimson eyes, scanning the area with calm authority, contrasted with her serene demeanor.

But Breeze wasn't drawn to Magda herself—it was her mana. The wind-dog's sharp instincts had picked up on the mana signature emanating from Magda. It was identical to the pendant Micheal cherished, the very one that never left his person. The pendant, a token of love crafted by the Emperor for the late Empress, radiated a unique warmth that Breeze found irresistible. It had learned quickly that Micheal drew a hard line when it came to the pendant.

The little wind-dog had learned early on that Micheal was fiercely protective of the object. While it was always surrounded by a comforting aura of warmth and mana, any attempt by Breeze to paw at or chew on it had been met with stern reprimands. Micheal, otherwise patient, had made it clear that the pendant was off-limits, in fact the only time Micheal had ever raised his voice against Breeze was when Breeze touched his pendant.

Despite its intelligence, Breeze couldn't resist the pull of the pendant. Now, sensing the same mana signature radiating from Magda, it was determined to investigate.

Breeze darted straight toward her.

Micheal (panicking): "No, Breeze! Stop!"

But it was too late.

The tiny beast skidded to a halt directly in front of Magda, sniffing at her robes and yipping excitedly. Magda froze, her crimson eyes widening in sheer terror.

Magda (stammering): "What... what is that thing?!"

She stepped back, clutching Calista's arm for support, her composure unraveling.

Magda (voice trembling): "Get it away from me!"

Micheal, who had been frozen in shock the moment he recognized Magda, finally snapped out of his daze.

Micheal (rushing forward): "Breeze, stop it!"

He scooped up the little wind-dog, who squirmed in his arms, still trying to reach Magda.

Calista, holding Magda steady, sighed as she tried to calm her.

Calista (soothingly): "Your Highness, it's just a puppy. It won't hurt you."

Magda (still shaking): "That doesn't make it any less terrifying!"

Edran, his expression stern, turned to Micheal.

Edran: "Recruit von Shelb! Control your beast before it causes more chaos."

Micheal (flustered): "I... I didn't know she was scared of dogs. I'm so sorry!"

He held Breeze tighter, the little pup whining in protest and casting forlorn glances at Magda.

Claude, leaning casually against the barracks door, couldn't resist throwing in a comment.

Claude (grinning): "Leave it to the Prince to terrify the lady with his chaos beast."

Micheal glared at him but didn't respond, too preoccupied with keeping Breeze still.

Magda, her composure slowly returning, gave Micheal a long, unreadable look. Her crimson eyes softened slightly, but her trembling hands betrayed her lingering fear.

Calista (disappointed): "Your Highness, I had no idea you were afraid of dogs. I wish you had mentioned this earlier."

Magda (sighing): "It's not something I'm proud of."

As the recruits in the barracks began whispering among themselves, Micheal tried to contain the situation.

Soldier #1 (whispering): "Who is she? She's got a royal air about her."

Soldier #2 (grinning): "And she's scared of a puppy?"

Micheal, his ears turning red, glared at the group.

Micheal: "Show some respect. She's a princess, for Emperor's sake."

The whispers stopped abruptly.

Soldier #1 (blinking): "Princess?"

Soldier #3 (stammering): "Wait... like... the Princess?"

Claude's jaw dropped as he looked between Micheal and Magda.

Claude: "You're telling me she's a princess?!"

Magda sighed, clearly annoyed.

Magda: "There's no need for all this formality. I'm here as a Mage Tower representative, nothing more."

Despite her protests, the recruits' behavior shifted immediately. They straightened up, their casual demeanor replaced with awkward attempts at respect.

Soldier #2 (nervously): "Your Highness... uh, I mean, ma'am, your robes look very... clean."

Claude (muttering): "Real smooth, mate."

Micheal, meanwhile, was visibly annoyed by their sudden fascination with her. He could already see the wheels turning in Claude's head, and it irritated him to no end.

Claude (teasingly, whispering to Micheal): "So, Prince, care to explain why the royal mage looks at you like you've got secrets?"

Micheal ignored the question, too busy calming Breeze, who kept glancing longingly at Magda ready to pounce on her given a chance.

Edran cleared his throat, trying to bring some semblance of order back to the situation.

Edran: "Your Highness, if you're ready, we should continue the inspection. Recruit von Shelb, make sure that beast stays confined."

Micheal nodded, still holding the wriggling pup.

Micheal: "Yes, sir. Breeze will stay out of trouble."

As Magda and her group moved away, Claude leaned closer to Micheal again, his grin widening.

Claude (whispering): "So, Prince, care to explain why the royal mage looks at you like you've got secrets?"

Micheal shot him a warning look.

Micheal: "No. I don't. Now drop it."

Claude chuckled but didn't press further, though his curious gaze lingered on Micheal.

Meanwhile, Breeze let out a small whine, its intelligent eyes darting between Micheal and Magda.

Micheal sighed, rubbing his temples.

Micheal (to Breeze, muttering): "You're going to be the end of me, you little troublemaker."

As the lively group from the Rowdy Barracks led Magda and her entourage toward the Mage's tent, Micheal found himself walking slower than usual, keeping Breeze tucked firmly under one arm. His shining blue eyes, weary yet striking, flicked toward Magda now and then, but he made sure to stay at the back of the group. His messy manbun barely held together, strands of his long hair falling haphazardly around his dirt-smeared face. Despite his rugged appearance, his armor—personally improvised with aura-threaded enhancements—gave him a determined, if slightly disheveled, air.

Breeze, however, was less subtle. The little wind-dog wriggled restlessly, its intelligent nose twitching as it repeatedly glanced in Magda's direction. Micheal had noticed Breeze's earlier fascination with Magda, he didn't want to risk another mishap. He kept the pup securely away from her, mindful of her fear of dogs, even though she hadn't voiced it aloud.

Magda, trailing behind the others, seemed lost in thought until her crimson eyes caught sight of Micheal. She hesitated, slowing her pace further as her gaze lingered on him. Micheal, preoccupied with keeping Breeze in check, didn't notice her approach until he felt her presence beside him. Startled, he almost tripped, fumbling to steady Breeze.

Claude, walking a few paces ahead, nudged Garrick with a knowing smirk.

Claude (whispering): "Oh, he's doomed."

Garrick (grinning): "Absolutely."

Magda glanced at Breeze briefly, her hands tightening around the edges of her robes. Micheal immediately picked up on her discomfort and adjusted the pup in his arms, keeping it further from her.

Micheal (softly, almost apologetic): "Don't worry. I'll keep him back."

Magda didn't respond, but the subtle tension in her shoulders eased. They walked in silence for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Finally, she glanced at him again, her tone quieter than usual.

Magda (hesitantly): "You never called."

Micheal froze mid-step, his face turning a deep shade of red. He stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush.

Micheal: "I—uh—I tried! I gave you missed calls... lots of them!"

Magda raised an elegant eyebrow, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly.

Magda: "And then you vanished."

Micheal glanced away, his grip tightening on Breeze as he searched for an explanation.

Micheal (awkwardly): "I... I switched off my com-tab. I thought... I should focus on being here, you know? Put myself in the shoes of the soldiers."

He hesitated, his voice lowering as he continued.

Micheal: "But mostly... I was scared. Scared you'd laugh at me."

Magda's expression softened, though her eyes remained steady on him.

Magda (gently): "Why would I laugh at you, Micheal?"

Micheal (grinning nervously): "Because I'm... well, me. And texting you? That's worse. Barnaby loves hacking my com-tab. The last thing I wanted was for him to read my messages to you."

A faint chuckle escaped Magda, her lips curving into a soft smile. She reached into her robes and pulled out an envelope, handing it to him.

Magda: "You're braver than you think, Micheal."

Micheal hesitated before taking the envelope, their fingers brushing briefly. The warmth of the gesture made his face heat up all over again.

The moment was short-lived as they rejoined the bustling group ahead. Edran in the Mage's tent, the camp mage, was in the middle of an exaggerated presentation, holding up a jug of golden liquid with reverence.

Edran (booming): "Behold! Mead from the Imperial Mage Tower! A gift from the heavens! Do you fools realize how rare this is?!"

The soldiers exchanged skeptical glances, some muttering under their breath.

Soldier #1 (muttering): "Still just mead, right?"

Edran's sharp ears caught the comment, and he glared at the offender.

Edran (indignant): "Just mead?! This elixir was brewed by the finest alchemists in the capital, aged with mana-infused herbs, and blessed by the Emperor himself!"

Claude leaned over to Garrick, barely suppressing a grin.

Claude (stage-whispering): "Bet it tastes like every other mead."

The soldiers burst into laughter, Micheal included. Edran huffed, pouring the first cup with exaggerated care.

Edran (dramatically): "Fine! Let the skeptics try it first. Watch as your taste buds ascend to a higher plane of existence!"

Micheal was handed a cup first, his comrades watching him expectantly. He hesitated but took a sip, the rich warmth of the mead spreading through him.

Micheal (grinning): "Alright, I'll admit—it's good."

Claude (teasing): "Good enough to make you brave enough to talk to the royal mage?"

The comment earned Micheal a round of playful jeers. Garrick clapped him on the back, almost making him spill his drink.

Garrick (grinning): "Don't worry, Prince. Liquid courage is on your side tonight!"

As the group settled in for an evening of drinks and camaraderie, Claude leaned closer to Micheal, his grin mischievous.

Claude: "So, Prince, care to share why the royal mage keeps looking at you like she knows all your secrets?"

Micheal's face turned crimson, and he waved him off.

Micheal (grumbling): "Drop it, Claude."

Claude (chuckling): "Not a chance. Let's toast to the Prince and his mysterious royal connection!"

The group raised their cups in mock celebration, their laughter echoing through the Rowdy Barracks. Micheal groaned, burying his face in his hands. Breeze, perched on his lap, let out a small yip, wagging its tail.

Micheal (to Breeze, muttering): "Oh, come on! Not you too."

The members of the Rowdy Barracks in the Mage tent were in full revelry. Soldiers clinked their mugs, laughter rang through the air, and Garrick's booming voice challenged Claude to yet another drinking contest. Micheal, however, was unusually quiet, nursing his drink with a distracted air. His blue eyes kept flickering toward the envelope Magda had handed him earlier, now tucked securely inside his tunic.

Claude noticed Micheal's unease and leaned in, his fox ears twitching mischievously.

Claude: "What's the matter, Prince? Afraid the letter's a love confession?"

Micheal nearly choked on his drink, his cheeks turning an alarming shade of pink.

Micheal: "It's... it's nothing like that! Just—just important Mage Tower stuff, probably."

Claude: "Oh, sure. Because love letters always come with imperial seals."

The barracks roared with laughter as Garrick pounded the table.

Garrick: "If it's official, why not share it with the unit?"

The Mage's tent buzzed with laughter and conversation as the evening stretched on. Micheal had barely managed to make it through the teasing from Claude and Garrick about his encounter with Magda. He still felt the weight of the envelope tucked securely in his tunic, a mix of curiosity and nervousness gnawing at him.

Inside the tent, Edran had moved on to what could only be described as a passionate sermon about the quality of the Mage Tower's mead.

Edran (raising his mug): "You fools don't even know what you're drinking! This isn't just mead—it's liquid heritage! Brewed with mana-infused honey from imperial hives, aged in enchanted barrels for decades. You should be thanking the Mage Tower for every sip!"

Claude, leaning back in his chair, nudged Garrick with a grin.

Claude (whispering): "Think he's drunk or just always like this?"

Garrick chuckled, his sharp claws tapping against the table.

Garrick: "Does it matter? Either way, I'm getting another round."

Seeing his chance, Micheal slipped out of the barracks with Breeze trailing behind. He didn't need Claude and Garrick digging into the contents of the letter, especially after the day's teasing.

Outside, the cool evening air provided a welcome reprieve from the rowdy atmosphere. Micheal crouched under the long shadow of a tree hidden from his fellow recruits, the soft glow of the setting sun on his face. Breeze settled at his feet, its intelligent eyes watching him curiously.

Micheal took a deep breath, carefully broke the wax seal, and unfolded the letter. His tired blue eyes skimmed the elegant handwriting, his heartbeat quickening with each word.

"Dear Micheal,

By the time you read this, I hope you are well and in good spirits, though I imagine camp life must be quite the adjustment. I debated whether or not to write, unsure if my words would reach you—or if you'd even want to hear them.

When I first came under the care of your family, the matron spoke often of the men of House von Shelb—heroes, warriors, and legends. She painted them as paragons of valor and strength. Yet, I began to wonder how much of their heroism was a choice and how much was a burden. Those tales, grand as they are, must cast long shadows.

But you are not a shadow, Micheal. You are your own person. I have seen glimpses of your determination, your kindness, and your ingenuity. Do not measure yourself against the tales of others; the legacy you build will be your own, and it will be extraordinary.

I trust your actions, Micheal. More than that, I believe in the man you are becoming.

Take care of yourself. And remember, even in the harshest moments, you are not alone.

Yours faithfully,

Magda"

Micheal stared at the letter, his chest tightening with emotion. Magda's words weren't just kind—they were freeing. For the first time since he'd arrived at the camp, the weight of expectations felt lighter.

Micheal (murmuring to himself): "She trusts me..."

Breeze let out a quiet yip, nuzzling against Micheal's leg. He chuckled, scratching behind the pup's ears.

Micheal: "Alright, little troublemaker. Let's get back before they drink all the mead."