Liam's Point of View

  My name is Liam Sefernde, and in my 21 years of life, this is by far the most absurd experience I've ever had. Seriously, I can't believe what's happening right now.

  Amelia—the ordinary woman sitting across from me—looks unremarkable.

  She could blend into any crowd with her simple clothes and plain features.

  But don't let that fool you.

  This woman has so much mana radiating off of her, it feels like I'm trying to breathe through a straw while sitting next to a boulder.

  Last night, as I got close to home, I felt a blast of her synthesis from miles away. It nearly knocked me out on the spot. I barely made it through the door without passing out from the sheer pressure.

  And now? Now I'm sitting here, pretending not to notice how casually she's sipping tea like none of this is a big deal.

  Oh, but it gets better. Thailon—yes, THE Thailon, the great hero, Mr. Legendary Save-the-World Guy—just walked in. And not just him. He's got Caelum, the fifth of the Hennessy Family, trailing behind him.

  Let me spell that out for you: the Hennessy Family, known for their ridiculously high-priced healing magic, sent their most notorious family member, Caelum, the guy who charges a small kingdom's fortune to cast a healing spell. They just strolled in here, in broad daylight. And these two? They're disguised. Not very well, mind you. I'm pretty sure the sunglasses aren't helping, but no one else seems to notice.

  Amelia looks up from her tea. "Did you find something?" she asks, sounding like she's inquiring about the weather.

  "Yes," Caelum says, as if they didn't just infiltrate a place that we've been struggling to get information on for months.

  "We'll be able to infiltrate tonight." Then he casually plops down next to Amelia like it's the most natural thing in the world.

  Amelia pats his head. PATS. HIS. HEAD. And Caelum? He just sits there, all chill and unbothered, like some obedient dog.

  I'm sitting there, mouth hanging open, while my brain desperately tries to reboot.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Is this real life?

  Thailon, meanwhile, slides a floor plan across the table.

  "We got this," he says, all cool and composed, like they didn't just pull this information out of thin air. It took them an hour to get what we couldn't manage in three months.

  Amelia, smiling like a proud grandma, says,

  "Good job, child," to Thailon—THE Thailon. And he just nods, like,

  "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Like am I in a dream?!

  And here's the kicker. She looks over at me and says,

  "We couldn't have done this without your help." My immediate reaction is to wave it off because, come on, I barely contributed. But also? I'm not sure what's real anymore. I probably did something without realizing it.

  Then, things get weirder (because apparently, this day hasn't been strange enough).

  Caelum, who's known across the land for his no-touch, no-nonsense policy, suddenly leans his head on Amelia's shoulder like it's nap time. I blink rapidly, wondering if I've somehow slipped into an alternate reality where all the rules I've known are now upside down.

  "It must've been tiring," Amelia says softly, brushing a hand through his hair. Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how this Caelum is the same guy who supposedly once punched someone for bumping into him.

  Thailon, like a concerned older brother, grabs Caelum's shoulder and nudges him back upright. "Sit properly," he mutters, like he's scolding a kid who keeps slouching at the dinner table.

  I'm sitting there, trying to make sense of this bizarre power dynamic, when Thailon shifts gears, back to business mode.

  "We need proper attire to enter the black market," he says. "Only high-status individuals are allowed in."

  That's when Amelia—because why not—casually waves her hand, and a glowing screen pops up in front of her. Yep, just your average "summon magical stuff" kind of day. She scrolls through the system like she's browsing an online shopping catalog and then—poof—out pops a shimmering Level-R gown that would cost me more than my entire life savings to even look at, let alone wear.

  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

  I glance at Thailon and Caelum, expecting them to share my reaction. But nope.

  Nope.

  They're just sitting there, all calm and collected, like this is totally normal. As if summoning a gown worth more than a kingdom's treasury is a casual Tuesday activity.

  "Oh, that won't be a problem," Amelia says, as she holds up the gown with a smirk. "We'll blend in just fine."

  Blend in? BLEND IN?! I'm trying not to hyperventilate. Nothing about this is blending in! She just summoned a gown out of thin air in a crowded trading post!

  Something doesn't add up. This is the most absurd thing I've ever seen in my life. I'm supposed to be helping these legends, but instead, I feel like I've accidentally wandered into some kind of cosmic joke where the universe decided, "Hey, let's mess with Liam's perception of reality."

  But as I sit here, watching Thailon and Caelum take orders from Amelia like she's the queen of the world, it hits me: I'm in the middle of something way bigger than I thought. Amelia isn't just an ordinary adventurer, and whatever her deal is, it's far beyond what I can wrap my head around.

  She's dangerous. Like, "reality-warping, summon-an-R-tier-gown-in-public" kind of dangerous. And I'm just along for the ride, trying not to get crushed under the weight of it all.

  I hope I will be okay.