REALISTIC ISEKAI: I didn't read this in my novels!

The rune-lit room fell silent, the steady beeping of the monitors accompanying it. Andor's eyes flitted to Clark every now and then before she spoke:

"I'll have to tell Kurt and Victoria Valyn before we take any further steps. His condition is stable now, so we have a bit of time on our hands."

Kaelith nodded. "You can use the teleportation arrays."

Andor's expression was unreadable as she replied, "Yes, Elder. I'll be taking my leave now."

The door clicked softly, the sound echoing in the room before an elder spoke, "If this succeeds, we gain a bridge to the humans. If it doesn't, we either gain a foe on par with the Crimson Blade or a corpse."

Even Kaeilth didn't refute his words; Tharivol pressed his hands to his forehead. "Fenrel, is this a good idea?"

Fenrel closed his eyes and rested his back on the chair with his eyes closed. "There are no truly good ideas in this world. Recklessness is the only path that has ever borne success. To burden the young, brimming with life, is cruel—yet effective."

The elders sighed heavily, and Tharivol added, "He shouldn't regain consciousness for the next five days, but with how unpredictable this boy's actions are, I say we should ensure everything is prepared in the next two or three days."

Kaelith engraved a few more runes on both sides of his cheek before walking towards the door. "I have other things to do. The children will be called here to inspect him. Caleth will be supervising them."

The same man who was instructed to call Andor stepped forward with his head bowed, his green hair glowing softly in the dim room. "I'll do my best to please the elders."

Small hums of approval sounded from the elders before they stood up, straightened their robes, and left the room.

Caleth's green eyes lingered on Clark for a moment longer. "I wonder what kind of monster you'd become," he muttered as he left the room.

....

Back in Vossier, the streets were filled to the brim. Children perched on their parents' shoulders, vendors left their stalls unattended, and even the most stubborn old men abandoned their dice games on the corners. Everyone had their eyes fixed on the wide stone road that led to the city gates.

The Regulators clothed in white armor stood at either side, their expressions stern as they controlled the crowd.

"Stay back! Lady Miriam will be here soon! We're going to pound you harder than you'd ever imagine if you cross the boundaries!"

"What in Uriel's name are you saying?" A female regulator whispered.

"Calm down, Elaine, they need to know that we're not messing around" He explained, his eyes never leaving the crowd.

"Or you're just nervous." Elaine replied, deadpan.

".....I will exercise my freedom of speech at this juncture."

The excitement was palpable in the atmosphere as flags bearing the Rothschild symbol were constantly waved in the air.

A few hours later, a golden carriage rolled up the streets, muscular horses ornamented with shining armor neighed as they approached.

The excitement was heightened to a higher degree, screams from men and women alike charged the atmosphere.

"Lady Miriam! We love you!"

"Long live the Rothschilds!"

"I want to have your babies!"

Similar chants were going on around the place and the smile on Miriam's face as she waved was....fake.

'Where is Clark? I thought he'd be here to welcome me. Or maybe he's here but I just can't see him?'

Miriam stretched her neck just a little while retaining the regal smile on her face.

The screams intensified and the surrounding Regulators had to release their auras to maintain the peace.

"Lady Miriam, is something the matter?" A voice called out.

Miriam turned her head calmly and faced her attendant. "It would be disgraceful not to show my care for the people after they gathered with such excitement."

What a lie.

"As gracious as ever, Lady Miriam."

Miriam looked out the window, her boredom finally showing on her face.

'He's not here...'

"What was that, Lady Miriam?"

Miriam frowned in confusion. "I didn't say anything."

The attendant bowed, his white hair fluttering as they alighted. "Must have been the wind."

As they alighted, the crowd already left behind, their eyes settled on a towering building. Its facade was dressed in polished stone and trimmed with gold accents, tall arched windows glowing warmly within. A red carpet unfurled across the entrance, the kind of welcome only wealth could afford.

Miriam didn't show any change in expression and calmly walked into the building, her attendant lifting the ends of her blue robe.

A young man stood at the door with a smile plastered on his face. "Welcome to the Virsch House. We hope your stay is a splendid one."

Miriam hummed softly as she entered her room, sinking into the bed while her attendant arranged her things and left. Her gaze swept the lavish furnishings, searching for any sign of surveillance, until it caught on a jeweled golden cup resting on the shelf. Confused, she lifted it—inside was a folded note, penned in elegant handwriting. The signature at the bottom made her pause.

"Matthew? What is he writing me a letter for?" She muttered as she unfurled the letter.

Her expression changed to that of annoyance as she mumbled the contents of the letter:

Though our paths crossed only briefly, your presence lingers in my thoughts as though you've left an imprint on the air itself. The Virsch empire may house countless wonders, yet none shine with the grace you carry so effortlessly.

If fate is kind, may it grant me the honor of your company beneath gentler hours than these. Until then, know that the gilded halls of the Virsch House are brighter for your being here.

—Matthew Virsch

"What the fuck is this?"

Miriam crumpled the paper and burned it to ahses in her hands. "Is he some kind of wandering bard?"

Miriam walked to the window that displayed the view of the city, her face still showing annoyance.

"Maybe I should go to Vossier inn. Brindlebrook isn't too far from here and I could go in the cover of the night."

Her face burned crimson as she imagined meeting Clark after such a long while, how romantic it would be when the moon illuminates their forbidden meeting, the danger that came with it, the words that would come out of his lips.

Poor girl didn't know the guy she was day dreaming about was currently grappling with life and death.

...

In the Regulators headquarters, tension hung in Fryn's spacious office.

Biktriv lounged in the guest seat with his legs crossed, Starek waited at the far end of the room wearing a stony expression, while Fryn stood squarely before the desk.

Waiting for the drop of sweat on Fryn's face to fall on the document placed on the desk, Biktriv spoke, "How is the investigation with the case going?"

Fryn flinched unnoticeably and asked, "Is it the S ranked battle that took place two days ago?"

"No. The battle I had with my resonance channel this morning. Of course it's the S ranked battle!"

Fryn's eyes flitted nervously to Starek while Starek desperately avoided eyes contact, his expression showing no signs of breaking.

'Tsk, traitor,' he thought as he answered Biktriv. "There were no reports of any bloodied or badly injured man during the time of the attack. The Night Walkers assigned to the mission also reported nothing."

Biktriv's thick fingers drummed on the desk, his expression grave. "So you're telling me we've got an S-rank threat on the loose? And if your theory is correct, he can suppress his rank to F so perfectly that no one can see through it?"

Fryn gulped. "It hasn't been ascertained that he's a threat at the moment. After all, we haven't received any reports of similar nature the past few days."

"Is that supposed to be an excuse for not executing your task properly?" Biktriv replied, his eyes piercing into Fryn's.

"N—now that I remember, one of the Night walkers mentioned something about the Valyns acting suspicious when he inquired about the whereabouts of Clark Thompson."

"...And have you investigated these claims? The Valyns are highly respected so make sure everything you're telling me is the absolute truth."

The tension rose to higher levels at the solemn warning. Fryn glanced at Starek and this time Starek met his gaze and gave him a thumbs up, his expression stony.

Fryn took a deep breath and nodded.

"The reports from the Shadow Inquiry Unit suggest that Kurt took Clark in after discovering his immense talent — and the fact that he was a battle mage."

Biktriv leaned forward on the table, his gaze sharpening on Fryn.

Finding a bit of confidence, Fryn pressed on.

"They were later spotted at the training grounds in Brindlebrook, Clark's former home. The Dragon Ball Tournament incident marked a turning point between them. Clark fell into Soul Dissonance after facing three of Volen Academy's D-ranks. Kurt was expected to finish him off… but somehow kept him alive. How Clark survived remains unknown, since they were cut off from the crowd at the time."

He paused before continuing with a steadied voice. "Clark eventually left Kurt's home and returned to Vossier Inn. The timing matches perfectly with his clash against Matthew Virsch."

"So, they have or had — a close relationship?" Biktriv summarized.

"Yes. Very close," Fryn admitted.

Biktriv's expression darkened. "Then we'll have to bring in Kurt Valyn and his wife for questioning."