Chapter 37: Best Spell, Safe Haven Portal?
Chapter 37: Best Spell, Safe Haven Portal?
Vali was an idiot.
Not because he lacked basic intelligence, but because he belonged to that dense, unimaginative collective who genuinely believed the Healer was the weakest of the Mage classes.
People only looked at the obvious spells. Sure, magic like Raise the Dead, Full Healing, Group Breath of Life, Remove Curses & Afflictions, or Radiate Healing Aura were incredible assets on a battlefield. But they weren't the reason a Healer should truly be feared. No, the real spell capable of crushing an Elemental Mage or turning a Summoner green with envy was a piece of 6th Circle magic known as Safe Haven Portal.
What made this specific spell so utterly broken compared to the standard teleportation and gate magic used by other classes? A complete lack of distance limitations. Normal spatial magic capped out at a maximum range of a thousand miles. Safe Haven Portal laughed at that boundary.
The mechanics were simple but profound. A Healer had to cast the spell once to "anchor" a deeply familiar location. From that moment on, subsequent castings would instantly snap the Healer—and up to one touched creature per Circle level—back to that designated anchor. The only hard restriction was cosmic geography: it required the caster to remain on the same plane of existence. You couldn't leave a isolated Secret Realm to jump back to the main continent of Myst. But if your anchor was firmly set in the Balder Kingdom, and you suddenly found yourself stranded a hundred thousand miles away in the uncharted territories of the East, a single incantation would instantly span the abyss.
It was a logistical nightmare for enemies, and extra busted when paired with a Summoner who possessed a Healer in their arsenal—a mobility trick King Owen actively exploited with his Valkyrie. Add a high-tier Mage into the equation alongside that Healer, and the vast world of Myst practically became a backyard.
"I missed you, Loki."
Sylvia stood before me with a radiant smile, her arms thrown open. I stepped into her embrace, holding her with extreme, almost fragile care. Sensing my hesitation, she gave me a playful, vice-like squeeze that belied her gentle words.
"I'm pregnant, haha, not dying or made of glass."
Her dazzling, silver-glowing blue eyes shone with genuine, unbridled thrill at my return. I ran my fingers through her curled silver hair, exhaling a soft sigh.
"Can't help it," I murmured, leaning down to kiss her plump lips. "I know absolutely nothing about being a father. I still can't quite believe we're having a child, Sylvia dearest. I love you."
As the kiss broke, a faint pang of competitive disappointment washed over me. Despite all my tireless efforts—and really putting my lower back into the labor of love—I had only managed to get Sylvia pregnant so far. Still, I was technically ahead of most men our age, and currently tied with my brother Thorin, who also had one cooking in the oven.
We moved to the sitting area, my two wives immediately flanking me. On my left, Shade had settled back into her default, cool ice-queen persona. Her face was a mask of impassive, android-like calm, but her hands told an entirely different story, gripping my arm with a desperate tightness. A textbook kuudere. Sylvia, meanwhile, leaned gracefully against my right side, maintaining the poised, reserved posture of a highborn noblewoman in front of the attending servants and Thorin.
Taking the lead, my first wife began explaining exactly how the two of them had managed to arrive so quickly.
"The Sky Postage Service is run by a pair of Healer sisters belonging to a branch family of our Sky clan," Sylvia explained, accepting a cup of tea. "They are shrewd merchant women who manage their branch estate and handle the high-speed mail corridor running from the Sky duchy capital straight to the Balder royal capital. It's how Father managed to intercept us before we sent you two off to the Royal Academy."
She took a elegant sip before continuing. "The royal court and upper nobility heavily rely on them to transport critical intelligence and high-priority mail between the cities. There is a steep, fixed price for every single parcel. Only a select few individuals, like our family and the royalty themselves, are permitted to travel personally via the sisters' Safe Haven Portal magic, which they have permanently anchored to both major cities."
Sylvia leveled a pointed, amused look at me. "Since you two entirely forgot to write to us using this mail network, we decided to take an overnight trip to see you and explain the service properly. Now, you and Thorin can send correspondence home at least once a week. Oh... and we also brought updates on your father’s current, rather hilarious dilemma."
That caught Thorin's attention. He paused mid-sip. "What happened to Father?"
Sylvia's grin widened as she pointed a finger between the two of us. "Nearly ten highly influential duchy noblewomen are actively trying to marry your father right now, including several prominent bachelorettes from the royal capital."
I blinked, thoroughly bewildered. "Father? Why him?"
"Because his last two children with commoner women produced two absolute monsters," Sylvia laughed, gesturing to us. "The nobility wants powerful bloodlines. They can't legally marry either of you due to your status as minor nobles, which makes your Knight father the absolute perfect catch."
Thorin and I exchanged a flat look. In perfect, synchronized apathy, we voiced our collective lack of concern for the old man's romantic ambush: "Oh. Okay."
Sylvia chuckled at our identical reactions. "We had lunch with him earlier, and he mentioned you’ve been causing quite a bit of trouble lately. What exactly have you been up to, dearest?"
Thorin promptly set his teacup down, gave his stomach a theatrical rub, and stood up to leave. "Pardon me. Bladder is full." With a swift look that practically screamed, 'Can't blame me for leaving you to the sharks this time, Loki,' he masterfully retreated from the wife encirclement.
Left alone with my inner circle, I looked at Sylvia and Shade. They were my light in this world, and I hid nothing from them.
Well... almost nothing. I conveniently omitted the details of the hot-spring shower scene with the Amazon hottie. Minor information, really. I also "accidentally" glossed over the part where I slapped Lisa Swallow’s rear, though in hindsight, I probably could have spun that into a chuckle. Maybe.
Before diving into the heavy political intelligence, I signaled Sylvia to erect a soundproof magical barrier. Once the privacy wards flickered to life, I laid bare everything I had experienced, learned, and deduced over the past seven days.
"So, that sums it up," I concluded, rubbing my temples. "Ayala, Lisa Swallow, Lana Balder, Leandra Breeze, Vali and his mother, and finally... the King, whom I strongly suspect to be a dreamer with memories like mine." I kept Thorin’s own past-life dreams out of the debrief; family secrets stayed within the bloodline.
Shade looked visibly overwhelmed. The sheer volume of dangerous intelligence I had excavated in a single week was staggering. She didn't care in the slightest about my minor romantic mishaps; her heart melted only for me, leaving her entirely focused on my immediate safety and our future security.
Sylvia, however, was already analyzing the political chessboard, her mind locked onto Albion Castle. The revelation surrounding the mysterious death of her cousin, James Sky, and the shadow operator pulling the strings—Angelica—had recontextualized everything. Modern chess was a staple of the western kingdom, while Chinese chess dominated the East; Sylvia was playing both.
She met my gaze and gave a firm nod. "Until we uncover more pieces, I won't breathe a word to Father about what you discovered regarding Count Swallow and his daughter. But Loki... if you suspect King Owen of being a dreamer, it is highly probable he already suspects you."
"Yeah," I admitted, wrapping an arm tighter around her. "But past lives are just that—the past. It doesn't mean he and I share the same ultimate goals or want to protect the same people in this life. You two are my absolute priority. Everything else can be dealt with if it tries to disrupt our peace."
A playful, dangerous spark lit up Sylvia's eyes. Beneath the table, the tip of her boot gently tapped my shin. "Shade, my new Count here is officially under my jurisdiction tonight. What do you believe his mandatory duties should entail?"
Mage Captain Winter turned her icy blue eyes toward me, a sudden, burning desire cutting through her usual stoic facade. She spoke with the deadpan precision of an android. "I believe the Count's strict duties should consist of full-body back massages, a lavish romantic dinner, and spending the evening reminding us exactly how much we mean to him. If he refuses, we teleport him into the street to sleep on the cobblestones."
Sylvia nodded in solemn approval. "A flawless strategy. After dinner, our husband will remain with you for the first half of the night, and then relocate to the master bed with me for the second half. See to it that you perform your fatherly obligations, Loki. My child is going to need a younger sibling."
I pulled both of them tightly against my waist, glancing toward the distant silhouette of the palace. "Thanks for the noble title, King Owen," I muttered dryly. "The duties are brutal, but the benefits are fulfilling."
With that, the three of us headed upstairs to the baths.
Inside the secured depths of Albion Castle, within the private quarters of the 7th Queen...
Leandra Breeze, the stunning elf queen, actively maintained a series of powerful protective wards. The defensive magic was specifically calibrated to keep out any auditory or scrying methods employed by Angelica. Across from her sat her student, Lisa Swallow. The young woman’s mid-length blonde hair fell forward, completely obscuring her face as she buried it in her hands, her skin flushing a deep, mortified crimson.
Leandra listened to the school report with rising astonishment. Based on the sheer operational details Lisa was providing, the Queen could now definitively confirm her husband’s running theory: Loki was indeed a fellow dreamer. The bizarre, highly specific questions the boy had asked about the royal palace menu had finally given him away.
Lisa, entirely oblivious to this cosmic subtext, would have kept her mouth shut if she had known King Owen and Loki were currently locked in a silent game of three-dimensional chess.
"You exposed your own secrets to him after a single class?" Leandra asked, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Are his charms truly so potent that you would completely disarm yourself?"
Lisa lifted her head, pouting fiercely as she brushed a stray blonde lock behind her ear. "I know! It was incredibly rash, but... he's terrifyingly sharp, Teacher. He would have figured it out anyway. He just... he makes you feel like he's someone you can genuinely rely on. Is that strange?"
Leandra felt a pang of profound empathy. She had felt the exact same way when she first met Owen. Keeping Loki's ultimate secret close to her chest, she offered a reassuring smile.
"Some men, even at the tender age of eighteen, possess a maturity and cunning that far outstrips their years. The moment I met Loki, I knew he was cut from the same cloth as my Owen. He isn't a bad lad, Lisa. Trust your instincts if you want to rely on him. You've only had Ayala and myself to confide in for the last century. Besides, it seems Ayala has already accepted him as an equal when it comes to the matter of children."
Lisa’s face flared an even brighter shade of red. The mention of Ayala triggered a sudden, volatile memory. Being a lightning-element mage, her temperament was naturally rash, explosive, and prone to immediate action. The words bypassed her filter entirely.
"Damn it! I completely forgot that little jerk slapped my ass! I'll get my absolute revenge on him, just you wait!"
Leandra’s eyebrows shot up. A deeply amused, knowing smile spread across the elf Queen's face.
Realizing exactly what she had just blurted out, Lisa panicked. "Teacher! It’s not what you’re thinking at all! Um—I have to go! Long Range Teleport!"
Crackle-pop!
A violent surge of yellow electricity enveloped her, and within a fraction of a second, the vacuum pop of displaced air signaled her hasty retreat back to her family estate.
Amused, Leandra waved her hand, dissolving the security wards. The moment the magic faded, a hidden cabinet door beside the master bed clicked open. King Owen stepped out, looking thoroughly embarrassed and entirely naked.
"Wife," Owen grumbled, quickly crossing the room. "Why couldn't you just make your student wait until we were actually finished? Why do you insist on making your King hide in a cupboard like a common pervert?"
Leandra simply pointed toward the mattress, her smile radiant. "Go lie down and wait for me to bathe. If I had turned her away, she might have run into real political trouble, and I would have felt guilty. Making you wait a few minutes is perfectly fine, isn't it? Besides, she just brought you definitive confirmation regarding Loki."
She stood up, stretching her elegant form. "Who would have thought your eccentric plan to smoke out fellow countrymen by introducing your favorite past-life foods to the kingdom's menu would actually work? I am continually impressed by my husband."
Owen crawled beneath the heavy covers, clearing his throat defensively. "To be fair, I mostly did that because I genuinely missed eating those foods. If I knew it would expose my own background first, I never would have risked it. But whatever, it worked out."
Leandra paused on her way to the bath, glancing back. "Are you upset that he managed to charm Ayala so quickly, while you couldn't?"
Owen laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "Nah. Envious? Absolutely. Upset? Not at all. Ayala is arguably the only likable Amazon on this continent, but it’s not the end of Myst just because she isn't in my court. Still, this Loki must be something truly special to beat her so decisively that she accepts him as an equal. I'll admit to a tiny bit of jealousy there."
"Will you summon him to the palace then?" Leandra asked. "To openly discuss your past lives?"
Owen shook his head, his expression softening as he looked at the woman he loved above all else. "He haven't made a single move to initiate contact with me, so we let it be. Sometimes it's far better to let meetings happen organically rather than forcing the hand of fate. In the grand scheme of things, those are just past-life dreams. Right now, I am the King of this realm, and he is a young, rapidly growing Hero."
He pulled the blankets up to his chin. "Me trying to force a friendship with a young man of his profile will only draw dangerous, unwanted scrutiny to both of us from factions like Angelica's. So far, he seems to be a good guy. Let's not pressure him."
Owen then gave the mattress a significant pat, a mischievous grin breaking through his serious demeanor. "More importantly... are you going to keep your King waiting forever? I believe tonight is officially a game of Twister night!"
Miles apart, bound by parallel fates and separate worlds, two men spent the remainder of the evening playing entirely different kinds of games.
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