Dragged to Another World… and I Took the Goddess with me!

The knight departed after stating the report's origin, and the man dismissed him with a flick of the wrist.

Finn's eyes glued themselves to the scroll. His brain immediately raced back to what Arsenio had told him about "filing a report."

Could this be it?

"Pardon me if you will," the man murmured, breaking the seal and scanning the parchment. His brow lifted. "Oh…"

Silvara leaned slightly closer, expression betraying curiosity, but said nothing.

"Well, this is… certainly a change of things." He read a little further, tone sharpening.

"What is it, sir?" Silvara asked.

"It is true." He looked directly at Finn now. "This man was at the Wizard Tower. He fought back demon soldiers on his own. And… it says here he defeated the giant demonic chicken the higher ups have been hunting."

The scroll lowered. Both the man and Silvara turned their gazes on Finn, the supposed demon-slaying hero—only to behold a ragged mess of a man in torn clothes, sitting like a homeless kid caught shoplifting.

The sight was less epic savior and more homeless raccoon that stumbled into a church.

Finn squirmed under their stares.

The man rolled the scroll back up. "Well then. This changes things quite dramatically. And here I thought I was about to interrogate you about your purpose here."

'Thank you wizard man!' Finn screamed in his head, silently worshiping Arsenio's bureaucratic blessing.

"Wait," Finn raised a hand, "what am I doing here?"

The man cleared his throat, covering his mouth with a polite cough. "Ahem. My apologies—I meant your purpose in this area."

"Ohhh. Why didn't you just say that?" Finn relaxed. "I came to the slime cave for Slime Melo, that's all."

"That isn't exactly… well, never mind. Please continue. Why exactly were you deep in the cave with Seraphina—of the Sacred Blades of Hope?"

Finn leaned forward with the eagerness of a drunk man about to start karaoke. "Oh, sure. Where do I start?"

And so he explained. The fall into the hole, the horrors they faced, even the giant cocoon. But he left out one name—Lysithea. He wasn't about to drag her into this. The less they knew, the safer she would be. He just prayed Seraphina wouldn't be interrogated either.

"And that's how we ended up here… Wait, where is Seraphina?"

"She is resting," the man replied. "Exhausted from fighting and travel in the caverns."

"Oh, wow. So she gets to rest, but I get interrogated? Very cool."

"My apologies," the man said, "but you must understand—the information we had about you did not paint a flattering picture, especially under these circumstances."

Finn blinked. Accused again? For things he didn't even do? Wait—what were the actual accusations?

"What am I even being accused of?!"

Silvara jumped in without hesitation. "Fraud. Public indecency. Stalking. Harassment of women. Stinking. I could go on."

"When did I ever do any of those things?! Why does everyone hate me hereeeeee?" Finn buried his face in his hands.

The man ignored his whining, glancing at Silvara, then back at Finn. His expression was unreadable, until finally he spoke:

"Finn Wiggles. For the time being, you will be placed under the careful watch of the Haus of Silbertraum. My agents and I will oversee you directly. For now, it is only Silvara and myself stationed here. More will arrive soon. Be prepared."

"So now I'm being babysat by some government agency that wears maid outfits… what has my life even come to?" Finn dragged his hands down his face—then froze. A realization struck. He gasped, eyes wide.

"That means… multiple hot maid women will be looking after me."

He muttered it like he'd just discovered the universe's greatest secret.

Both Silvara and the man just stared at him in silence, wondering what possibly went on in his head.

Finally, Finn nodded to himself. "Okay."

That was all. No protest, no further explanation. Just "okay." The thought of more hot maids arriving had completely destroyed whatever resistance he might have had.

The man coughed once, straightening. "Well, since everything has been decided—allow me to properly introduce myself." He pushed the barrel aside and rose to his feet, his voice shifting to a tone of weight and authority.

"My name is Theron Ashveil, head of the Haus of Silbertraum. From this day forward, you will be under the direct eye of myself and my subordinates. I will be watching your every move, Mr. Finn Wiggles. I expect… much from you."

The words carried iron, finality.

Finn blinked, mouth hanging open. Then, in his softest voice, he whispered again:

"…maid outfits though."

Silvara covered her face with her hand.

For the first time in years, Theron Ashveil—the man who had faced monsters and demons without blinking—felt the faintest pang of regret and wariness.

"Wait, so what's going to happen now?" Finn asked.

"We will go see your friends, of course," Theron replied.

"What about my clothes? I can't be seen walking around in this…" Finn tugged at the tattered remains clinging to his body—the last scraps from his life on Earth.

"Oh my, how careless of me. Yes, you'll need new clothes first. From there, we can move forward." Theron glanced at Silvara, giving a subtle nod.

"Right away, sir," she said crisply, before leaving the tent.

Theron turned his gaze back to Finn, who looked far more excited than the situation warranted.

"Is there something on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just… I might finally get to leave this hellhole and be free."

Theron raised a brow. "What do you mean? Have you lived here most of your life?"

Finn shook his head. "No. Well, yes? I mean—we came from beyond the wizard towers. Past the barrier. Me and Majestria nearly died twice out there! Can you believe that? Never again. Nope. I'm staying on this side forever." He nodded to himself like he'd just made a solemn oath.

Theron froze, uncertain he'd heard right. "You were beyond the wizard towers… in what we call the Death Zone?"

"Yep."

Theron didn't bother pressing further. From Finn's behavior alone, he knew this wasn't a demon spy or monster in human flesh. No, this was something else entirely. A man with fewer brain cells than sense. A monkey in human form, acting only on feelings. Part of him pitied Seraphina for being stuck with him.

Instead, he explained, "Once matters here are settled, we'll take you to the capital of the Sapient Kingdom, where the queen resides."

That lit Finn up like a firecracker. Finally, he'd get to see cool medieval stuff. Maybe even—if the gods were merciful—some coffee.

He'd been desperate to see a real city ever since Moistvile. Hopefully it was beautiful. Hopefully it wasn't filled with absurdities, like castle towers shaped like rods or street vendors named Dufockle who asked if giants used the spires as playthings.

Just the thought of it all made Finn shiver. He prayed there was more to this world than unfiltered horniness or absurd things.

Finally, Silvara returned with a folded set of clothes in her arms. She handed them over without a word.

Finn grinned, heart light, for the first time in days.

Then he unfolded the clothes.

His smile vanished.