The Gate Traveler

The next seven days of sailing after clearing the fever-dream frozen portal passed without any special incidents. I piloted the boat at night, slept for a few hours, and worked on the looting spells the rest of the time. Sadly, I still didn't figure out the progression aspect, and it drove me crazy. Every time I thought I was getting close, the thought process slipped through my mind like smoke. I had a tail of an idea that kept escaping me, flickering just out of reach, no matter how I chased it. However, at least I managed to reduce the mana cost of all of them from the 200–350 range to a much more manageable 100–150. It cost me a great deal of mortification to see the mistakes I'd made in the past. There was a whole lot of facepalming, cringing at my own logic, but I bit the bullet, acknowledged my previous stupidity, and powered through. All the new spells got the [Upgraded] tag on my profile, which felt like something, at least. I even created the new versions for Al and Mahya, and got a lot of thanks and congratulations.

Mahya, Al, and Rue got tired of playing games. Well, that's what they told me. Personally, I thought it had more to do with the fact that Rue won all their tournaments without cheating, not even once. Their last straw was the Rummikub tournament. They'd been keeping score by tallying the cubes left on each tray, and by the end of it, both Mahya and Al had racked up over two thousand points. Rue, somehow, had only about three hundred. That finally broke their spirit. They didn't argue or make a big deal out of it. They just muttered something about it being time to focus and that games were for children or some nonsense like that, then quietly retreated to their own projects.

Rue's reaction was smug. "Mahya and Al sore losers. Rue proud winner." Then he trotted off with his tail held high, clearly satisfied with his undefeated streak.

I didn't want to disappoint him and tell him he probably got the Luck Trait from me, and that was the reason for his winning. It was better to let him revel in his awesomeness.

Mahya went back to working on her idea of using mosaic to create interchangeable ritual circles. Al asked me to clear the boat galley and barbecue our meals, then took over the galley to experiment with something. He didn't say what, just gave me a look that clearly said "don't ask."

We'd been sailing for ten days already, using both sails and engine power, and still hadn't reached the first intersection of the two rivers, so we had to stop and recalculate our expected travel time. With more understanding of the distance based on our progress so far, we concluded that we'd likely spend about two months sailing toward the Gate. This world was enormous, and the continent we were on was the largest by far. Once we had the final time estimate, we had a short discussion and agreed that we'd stop and visit any cities along the way, as long as they looked interesting and there wasn't any fighting going on.

We did see fighting here and there, but it didn't touch us. Sometimes we spotted smoke rising in the distance, or caught glimpses of flashing lights and the faint echoes of explosions. Once or twice, we came across the aftermath of a skirmish along the riverbanks—burned trees, broken boats, and scorched earth.

Once, we sailed past a bend just in time to see two ships in the sky firing at each other with cannons. Bright spheres of glowing energy arced overhead before exploding midair. The noise rolled above us like thunder. I ducked instinctively, watching the distant flashes.

"Should we turn around?" Al asked.

Mahya shook her head. "They're not aiming at us."

A few other times, we saw ships exchanging mana bombs from afar, the blasts lighting up the sky for a moment before fading. Once we saw a ship fall from afar.

Flying ships passed above us regularly, and I even learned how to tell which ones belonged to "our" half of the empire and which belonged to the other, just by looking at the soldiers on board. The ships themselves looked identical, but the uniforms and insignias gave them away after a while.

There was also more soldier traffic on the river. Not just the big military ships we'd seen earlier, but now even smaller boats, each carrying anywhere from five to thirty soldiers or hopefuls, passed us regularly. The hopefuls were easy to spot. All of them had mismatched armor and weapons, and they kept shouting things whenever they sailed past. Usually, it was stuff like "death to the usurper," "the empire is only one," or "victory or death." There were a few other exclamations thrown in, but those were the ones I heard most often.

Every time one of those boats passed, I just shook my head and sighed. It was sad to watch all those young people go off to war because two brothers couldn't talk like grown-ups and insisted on resolving their differences with the lives of their subjects.

Another effect of the war was the rise in prices. From the first day of sailing, we didn't really stop in the towns and villages along the way, but during those ten days, we did pass three big cities. We sailed into each harbor, went ashore, and bought fresh food. Yes, I had a ton of supplies in my Storage. But all the harbors had people selling various kinds of delicious river fish, and that I didn't have. Of course, we could fish ourselves, but not at the speed we were moving. With the schedule we were aiming for, tossing a line in the water wasn't exactly practical. Personally, I didn't want to slow our progress, and I preferred to just buy fresh fish when we had the chance. After a short negotiation, Mahya and Al both agreed with me.

The price of fish continued to climb with every city we stopped in. At the first port, a single fish cost one gold. By the time we reached the second, it was already three. In the third city, the merchant barely blinked when he asked for ten gold.

I stared at the fish on display, then at the price marker, then back at the fish again. It wasn't even grilled.

"Nope," I said flatly, turning away. "Next time we want fish, we're catching it ourselves."

Mahya raised an eyebrow. "If I recall correctly, you're the one who complained about collecting too much money before we left Earth."

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I pointed at the overpriced fish, which cost as much as a second-hand car. "The prices in this world have healed me from that temporary insanity. I'm cured. Completely."

Al glanced at the fish, then at the two of us, and gave a slow nod. "We are certainly capable of fishing. It can even be a rather pleasant activity on occasion."

On day ten of our sailing, we came across the first sign of trouble. A line of boats stretched across the river, blocking our way forward. They weren't merchant ships or fishing boats, but military. Dark sails, soldiers in matching uniforms, and a pair of floating platforms with mounted cannons made it very clear we weren't getting through without a chat.

We slowed and drifted closer. A sharp whistle rang out, and a group of soldiers stepped to the edge of the platform, watching us approach. At the front stood a man in polished armor, a red cape flowing behind him, as if he thought this was some kind of parade. When we tied the boat to the platform, he stepped aboard without waiting for an invitation.

He didn't introduce himself. Just planted a foot firmly on our deck and said, loud enough for half the river to hear, "You there. By order of the Imperial High Command, you are hereby conscripted to fight for the glory of the Emperor."

Mahya blinked at him. "Come again?"

He gave her a flat look. "The Empire needs able-bodied fighters. Refusal to serve is punishable by arrest. Attempting to flee may be seen as desertion—or espionage."

I rubbed my temple. "Great."

Mahya held up a hand. "One moment." She turned and walked calmly into the saloon of the boat. I heard drawers opening and some rummaging.

She returned and handed him a document.

"Guild quest," she said smoothly. "Urgent assignment. A monster horde near the town of Devrin. North side. We're en route."

The commander stared at the paper. "The glory of the Emperor outweighs the safety of a few peasants."

"Of course it does," I said, nodding like I was agreeing with him. "Which is why we'll report to the nearest army outpost the moment the quest is complete."

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. After a long pause, he handed the paper back.

"Fine," he said curtly. "Move along. But if I hear of deserters matching your description…"

"You won't," Mahya said, smiling sweetly. "We believe in the emperor and the good fight. We need to finish our quest, and then we'll rush to join the army."

He gave her another suspicious look but didn't say anything.

As we pulled away, I caught the tail end of a conversation on the deck behind us. One of the younger soldiers leaned toward him and whispered, "Why'd you let them go?"

The commander grunted. "I'm not about to tangle with the Adventurers' Guild over three nobodies on a boat. Not worth the paperwork."

I didn't turn around, but I allowed myself a grin.

The next night, we sailed past a burned town. Some ashes were still glowing red. In the early hours of the morning, we reached the next town.

It was crowded. Tents, carts, and makeshift shelters spilled out from the riverbanks, and the docks were packed with people, too many for a town this size. Refugees. Even from the water, I could see the signs. Torn clothing, soot-covered faces, wounded limbs, and a hollow look in their eyes.

I dropped anchor immediately.

"Al," I said, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up. Some people need my help."

He groaned, rubbed his face, and sat up. "What time is it?"

"Too early. But I'm going to shore."

Without waiting for an answer, I flew off the deck and landed near the outer edge of the crowd, where a few people sat slumped against crates and barrels. The smell of burned cloth and dried blood hit me the moment my boots touched the ground. I didn't ask questions. Just knelt beside the nearest injured woman and began casting.

Word spread quickly. People gathered around, watching in silence as the wounds closed and pain faded from faces twisted in shock. Some started crying. Others just stared.

A few minutes later, Al landed beside me and handed me a handful of potions.

"Mahya is watching the boat," he said, already moving to the next patient.

I nodded. We worked for a while, saying little to each other. The line of wounded never seemed to end. Most injuries were burns, smoke inhalation, and broken limbs. A few were worse—deep cuts, missing fingers, or head injuries.

I heard shouting and barking. Rue.

We looked at each other and took off toward the riverbank.

When we reached the dock, a scene had already erupted. A group of men—at least a dozen—were trying to climb onto the boat, shoving past Rue and yelling at Mahya. One of them had a sword drawn. Another was holding an axe.

Rue growled and lunged, his size alone enough to knock two of them over. Mahya held her sword and stood like she was daring them to take another step. "Back off," she said coldly. "This boat is not up for negotiation."

Two more men charged.

Rue met them mid-step, teeth bared. One fell screaming into the water. The other crumpled under Rue's weight with a yelp and a very clear snapping sound. Mahya swung her sword and cleanly cut off the hand of the man who tried to bash her head in with the axe.

Someone shouted, "They're attacking us!"

Another voice, panicked and loud, cried, "They hurt our people! Kill them."

I met the eyes of a boy I'd just healed. He shrank back behind his mother, who clutched him protectively, her glare fixed on us like we were monsters.

That was it.

"We're done," I said.

Al gave a tight nod.

We left without another word and didn't treat anyone else.

I sat at the edge of the deck, staring at the water slipping past the hull in rippling lines. For a while, I just watched, letting the silence sink in.

This sailing trip was nothing like our last one.

Back in China, being on the water had felt like freedom. Quiet days under open skies, the rhythm of waves and wind, the joy of exploring something new. We'd laughed, traded stories, eaten delicious food, and stopped in cities for shopping. It was fun.

But now… now I was learning the price of war firsthand.

At first, I sulked a little. I moped over the fact that the fun was over, that this amazing world we'd barely begun to explore was already being ruined for us. But that disappointment had faded into something heavier. Sadness. And a kind of quiet anger, not the burning kind, but the slow, hollow sort that comes from watching something wonderful get poisoned by stupidity.

We passed scorched riverbanks, saw refugees limping along muddy roads, their lives packed into whatever bags they hadn't lost in the fires. Soldiers barked orders while children cried behind them. People sold fish at triple the price, and no one even blinked. The world kept turning. Commerce moved on.

And all of it, every broken boat, every burned town, every shot-down ship, was because two powerful men couldn't sit down and speak like adults. Because their pride and ambition demanded blood instead of compromise. It was madness. A collective insanity masquerading as strategy. I kept thinking how war was always painted as a necessary evil, but here it was, playing out in front of us, and all I saw was cruelty dressed up as duty.

Philosophers back on Earth had tried to put it into words: that war is the failure of reason, the breakdown of humanity, the ultimate expression of arrogance and fear. I didn't need their writings to understand that anymore. Not when I could see the cost of it drifting past me on the riverbanks and reflected in the eyes of those who had nothing left.

This world was still great. Still beautiful. But now I was learning that even beauty wasn't immune to the reach of war. And that was the saddest part.