Chapter 20: His Departure and World on Fumes

Aaron had spent the past three years preparing for his journey into the dungeon. He was restless, constantly pushing his body and mind to their limits in an attempt to strengthen himself and recall as much knowledge and as many skills as possible before descending into the dungeon.

Abigail had left for the academy two years ago, just days after turning fifteen. She had tried to defer her admission so she could wait two years and enter the academy alongside Aaron. However, their father had immediately reprimanded her, harshly warning her never to put her life on hold for anyone.

Left with no choice, she had departed for the academy.

Now, it was Aaron’s turn.

His father, who spent most of his time at the barracks and was rarely home, had returned the previous night specifically to accompany his youngest son to Ravstas Academy—the most prestigious academy in the world.

The night before, Mr. Goldilock had told Aaron how highly Damien had impressed his examiners during his entrance examinations. Three years ago, they had called Damien a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Since then, he had gone on to prove them right by becoming the best combatant in the academy in his third year.

Aaron had been genuinely surprised. His brother had managed to elevate the Goldilock name to a level Aaron could never hope to reach.

Out of curiosity, he had asked about his sister’s accomplishments, only for his father to respond dismissively.

"She struggled a bit during the entrance examinations. Compared to Damien, she’s still struggling at the academy."

Aaron had been infuriated by that reply.

He knew perfectly well that the only reason the sister of the academy’s best combatant would struggle was that her brother couldn’t be bothered to let her benefit from his status.

It was an annoying revelation, but hardly an unexpected one.

With a bored expression, Aaron stood before his mother as she gingerly wiped the scabbard hanging from his waist.

"Don’t walk around with a dusty scabbard. Your sword is a reflection of your character. You don’t want those rich city children looking down on you."

Aaron rolled his eyes with a tired sigh.

"It’s not dusty, Mom. It just isn’t well polished."

Susan immediately dropped to her knees and squinted at the scabbard, inspecting it from different angles.

"Oh, my baby..."

She reached for another black rag beside her and began scrubbing the scabbard with considerably more enthusiasm than the situation warranted.

"You should make sure it’s properly polished. Those city folks can be bullies sometimes."

Aaron raised an eyebrow.

Wait... Why does she casually have a polishing rag by her side?

Before he could dwell on the question, his mother abandoned the scabbard and began tightening the belt around his waist.

"Also, your scabbard is quite loose. You’re a swordsman. Your sword should fit snugly against your waist."

Aaron wanted to tell her that it was already tight enough. He also wanted to step away and put an end to the unnecessary fuss.

But he knew she was simply being overprotective.

He was about to leave, after all, and she wouldn’t see him again for the next five years. Her possessiveness and excessive concern were understandable.

With no intention of making things more difficult for her, he offered a small smile and watched his mother fuss over his belt as though he were a four-year-old.

A loud, exaggerated groan suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

It came from his father.

Standing a few meters away, Mr. Goldilock finally lost his patience.

"Susan, leave the boy alone! He’s no longer a child. You’re spoiling him too much."

His mother tilted her head, met his father’s gaze, and frowned deeply.

"You don’t get to tell me how to treat my baby. He’s still a child."

Aaron gave her a strained smile.

I died at sixteen, and I’m currently fifteen. A thirty-one-year-old soul is neither a boy nor a baby.

At that moment, Madam Judith—Damien’s mother—intervened, cutting through the growing tension between Susan and Mr. Goldilock.

"Let the boy go, Susan. It’s only five years. He’ll be back before you know it."

Susan shot her a sideways glance before returning her attention to Aaron’s belt.

"W-Wait... I’m almost done."

Madam Judith gently rested a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.

"His belt is perfectly fine, Susan. Just let him go."

Susan froze for a moment.

Then, slowly, she nodded in resignation and rose to her feet.

She looked at her son with undisguised concern. Aaron smiled back confidently.

"I’ll be fine, Mom."

Her expression grew somber.

"Promise?"

Aaron’s smile faded. He met her gaze with a more serious expression.

"I promise."

As mother and son held each other’s gaze, Madam Judith placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder and offered him a gentle smile.

"I wish you the best. And tell Damien I’m proud of him."

Her smile faltered.

"Also... T-Tell him to write to me. He hasn’t written a single letter in the past two years."

Aaron’s brows rose slightly.

He hadn’t expected that.

"I’ll tell him. I promise."

She studied him quietly for a moment before nodding and stepping away.

Then Mr. Goldilock’s impatient voice rang through the house.

"Enough with the goodbyes, women! The train leaves at nine. We’re running late!"

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the house, leaving Aaron behind.

Aaron’s brows shot up.

Is... Is he leaving me behind?

"Wait, Father!"

He hurriedly picked up his box, readjusted the scabbard hanging from his waist, gave his two mothers a final, grateful glance, and rushed after his father.

He had no idea where the academy was or how far it lay from the little town he called home. However, according to the game, today was the day of the Awakening Ceremony.

Which meant that, in just a few hours, his ordinary life in this world would come to an end.

Aaron watched in wonder as he and his father walked along the town’s busy streets.

Compared to Earth, the technology in this world was considerably less advanced. However, that didn’t mean it lacked achievements of its own.

He had always believed there were no cars in this world.

Surprisingly, he had been wrong.

There were cars.

They were called wheels.

Although the wheels were little more than cubical contraptions fitted with enormous tires, they were still a sight to behold.

They were slow, plain, and powered by steam. Wherever they went, they left thick trails of smoke in their wake.

They were hardly environmentally friendly, but the government permitted and even endorsed their use because, at the very least, they could get people from one place to another. Aaron had mixed feelings about them. He admired the ingenuity behind their existence while simultaneously condemning the pollution they produced.

What an interesting world.

Before long, his father announced, "We’re here. The train should arrive soon."

Aaron stopped beside him, and the two waited.

Moments later, a deafening horn forced Aaron to lift his head.

And there it was.

A black, dilapidated, rusty old train came hurtling toward them. It looked so unreliable that Aaron genuinely feared it might either derail or veer off the tracks and plow straight into the innocent civilians waiting to board.

He swallowed hard.

As the train drew closer, his eyes widened.

There was a familiar sight trailing behind it.

Thick, black fumes.

The smoke was so dense that people instinctively covered their noses as the train approached.

Another dangerous innovation that had apparently been approved simply because it could get the job done.

Aaron scrunched up his face in irritation.

What’s wrong with this world and fumes?!

He glanced at his father.

The man stood perfectly relaxed, seemingly unconcerned by the approaching monstrosity.

Aaron raised an eyebrow and turned his attention back to the train.

Maybe... I’m just overreacting.

He hesitated.

Ma-Maybe.

With that thought, he covered his nose and calmly waited for the train to arrive.

A few moments later, it finally came to a halt.

Along with the other waiting passengers, Aaron boarded the train with his father. Their destination, Ravstas Academy.