Ruling is not universal.

  Narathan, Earth, and Mersia are three realms mentioned by the Traveler that are completely devoid of magic. I’ll use them to demonstrate my point.

  Imagine an absolute ruler in one of these worlds —someone who could depopulate their nation with a snap of their fingers, or just as easily transform it into an eternal paradise.

  A moment’s thought reveals such a figure to be impossible.

  Even one of the famed nuclear strikes would be unfeasible without scientists, engineers, and soldiers.

  A despot may command much, but without others to enact their will they are about as powerful as a knife without a blade.

  The sharper minds among you may have already arrived at the key question:

  What happens when magic enters the equation?

  -Excerpt from Introduction to Ruling, Lecture I by Alon Thomson

  The sound of a familiar ding stirred Kerek out of his daydreaming.

  He departed the elevator swiftly. The metallic beast waited for no one.

  Bob was already waiting for him, leaning on a wall. As he drew closer his colleague's eyes at last registered his approach.

  "Hey, how did the training go?" he asked him jovially. Bob's practice must've involved much less beatings.

  "I learned the basics of wielding a shield today. Much more versatile weapon than you'd think."

  "Oh, and I thought you got into a habit of carrying frisbees around," his colleague said, referring to the shield clasped to his back.

  Kerek rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous that your instructor gave you nothing. What can I say? Not everyone can be a talented star pupil like me."

  Bob shot him a disturbed look. He probably questioned if his faculties came out of the training unscathed.

  Now that I think about it, I did get bashed in the head with a shield.

  "Anyway, how did your training go?" he asked Bob.

  It was a good change of topic that would hopefully distract him from doubting his mental capacities.

  "Well, while you were playing a knight I was practicing my shooting skills. We went to the range."

  "There it was everything from hitting stationary targets to a full-blown shootout with the Ent."

  "Even though the instructor constructs are smaller than their warrior counterparts the arcane rifle still looked comically little in its arms."

  Kerek chuckled, Bob was right. Even imagining it was ridiculous.

  "Wow, did you give up on your personal capabilities completely and decide to be a gun-wielding minion forever? Good for you," Kerek provoked.

  "Shut up! Of course, we did more than just gun practice."

  "Yeah? Pray tell."

  Bob looked slightly embarrassed and started fidgeting. "What is it?" Kerek pushed.

  "Well... I've been considering enrolling in Arkana, so we've been practicing external mana manipulation."

  That surprised him. It must've shown as Bob gave him another fidgeting performance.

  This won't do.

  "What are you a little girl? Be proud of yourself man," he said and gave him a few slaps on the back.

  Their chatter continued while their legs brought them further into the hallway.

  It was a different floor than the one where Kerek trained. Though, it looked completely the same.

  The only real change was the lack of uniformity shown by the doors.

  Some were metallic, some wooden, and others yet from materials he had never seen before.

  Even their shapes were ranging from unadorned and plain to frivolously decadent.

  "We're here," said Bob before seeking reassurance: "You changed your bullets for blanks right? I'm no bulletproof Ent."

  "Yes, I did. Same rules as always?" That meant one good blow or a shot anywhere above the knees and elbows would score you a win.

  Bob gave him a nod and then pointed at the door: "Ladies first," he ordered in a jovial tone, giving him a slight bow.

  His temper flared up, but he still walked through the door without complaining.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  The enchantment would separate their place of arrival and he was looking forward to the silence.

  Crossing the entrance revealed a swampy terrain. The door slammed shut behind him, sealing his escape route.

  The game was on.

  Kerek crouched down and crept forward silently passing by many fallen trees.

  He followed something resembling a path. Were it not for his waterproof combat boots his feet would be long swimming.

  The water gurgled, the insects sang, but Bob was nowhere to be seen. It must be one of the bigger biomes.

  His friend was banned from cycling for the duration of the fight to make it fair.

  His footsteps veered off the trail into a more muddy part of the swamp. Kerek didn't plan on losing.

  He smeared mud all over his armor and helmet, but even his face wasn't spared.

  Even his equipment got the mud bath treatment.

  Kerek still wasn't satisfied. The next few minutes were spent collecting moss and small sticks for his camouflage.

  Crooked twicks were methodically stuck to his helmet. His hands moved them around with utmost carefulness.

  Patches of moss already cloaked him from head to toe.

  Finally pleased he didn't return to the path, but instead waded through the muddy terrain.

  The environment slowed his already cautious movement almost to a halt.

  Undeterred Kerek continued his silent march, wet and dirty visage reminiscent of a swamp monster.

  A loud croak from his left made him stop in stillness.

  His body filled with adrenalin while his ears and eyes strained to catch the culprit of the sound.

  Without cycling not even his half-baked mana sight was available to him.

  No further such sounds could be heard, nevertheless, he forced himself to remain still for one more minute.

  Nothing happened and that made his paranoia flare up. Instead of continuing his crawl, he remained in his statue-like pose.

  It was impossible to say how much time had passed when he resumed his march.

  A pistol in his left hand and a sword in his right. Here his ambidexterity came in handy.

  When he was around 80 feet from the trail he started going parallel to it.

  Hopefully this way he could see anyone using it well before they noticed him.

  A slick piece of rope wrapped itself around Kerek's neck.

  It was only his alertness that let him put his pistol-wielding hand between it and his throat.

  It tightened painfully, the metal of his gun pressing into his skin. However, thanks to his quick thinking oxygen still filled his lungs.

  Doing his best to not panic, but not managing it completely, Kerek struggled to free himself to no avail.

  The water around him splashed, but the mud that went up to his knees was making every movement difficult.

  Realising how vail his attempt was he switched strategies.

  Instead of continuing his struggle, he raised his sword and brought it down with all his strength.

  He heard a yelp of pain, but the flexible nature of the rope let it survive the strike mostly unscathed.

  Undeterred Kerek did his best to hack the rope apart. I'm getting a sense of Dejavu for some reason.

  He pushed down the feeling and continued his wide slashing. The screaming continued, now with an even greater intensity.

  With an unexpected snap, the rope tore. Kerek unable to stop the momentum of his last wide slash ended up rolling in the mud.

  Huffing and cursing he got up and froze. What he thought was a rope revealed itself to be a slick red appendage covered in spikes.

  Blood leaked from where it was cut off, the same as the back of Kerek's neck and his left arm. The tongue did a number on him.

  In the distance, a wounded froglike monster was hopping away.

  More surprising than the ambush itself was the door jutting out of the swamp.

  Confused he opened it. After seeing the familiar hallway on the other side he walked in.

  Inside the corridor, a healer was tending to an unconscious man. Curious Kerek walked to them, his moody boots leaving one hell of a trail.

  Laughter burst out of his lungs. The healer cast him a judgmental glance but he paid her no mind.

  Instead, he focused on holding onto the wall. His legs weak from laughter which soon turned into a coughing fit.

  Some of the mud must've entered his mouth during the howling.

  Kerek couldn't take it anymore, he dropped to the ground and half choking, half laughing rolled on the floor.

  Soon mud-caked stone was the standard in this part of the corridor.

  At some point, the healer tried to tend to his bleeding wounds but soon gave up.

  Finally, the last vestiges of hysteria left him. He stopped his rolling and checked up on Bob who was now awake.

  His body was covered in nasty cuts resembling the ones on Kerek's neck.

  That almost made him explode again, but with an enormous strength of will he held the laughter at bay.

  "A serious duel. Let's measure our strength against each other!" Kerek parodied, amusement apparent in his voice.

  "Oh, great warrior which opponent took you down? It must've been a fight of the legends," his mocking continued.

  "I Let my guard down!" Bob almost screamed, his voice laced with frustration. "How was I supposed to know there'd be monsters in a dueling arena?"

  "I let my guard down. How was I supposed to know?" mimicked Kerek in a baby voice.

  "And it's not fair. You know well I'm no melee fighter and I couldn't even use my gun as it was loaded with blanks.

  "Counterargument: You've gotten your ass handed to you by an overgrown swamp frog."

  "At least I'm not looking like a swamp ghoul's bastard child," retorted Bob.

  "Are you okay? How are your wounds?" asked Kerek with as much fake sympathy as he could muster.

  "Fuck you," replied Bob, noticing the smirk hidden in his tone.

  "Sorry to interrupt your bonding time, but Mr. Kerek I need to treat your wounds now," the healer said before nonchalantly drenching him with a water spell.

  It was still a far cry from being clean. Nonetheless, it was much better than before.

  One more ball of water hit his face. He was about to complain but then thought better of it.

  The healer smirked and started treating his wounds.

  His injuries were pretty shallow, so after a few minutes of casting his body was back in peak condition.

  Bob had it slightly worse, he lay healthy but spent on the ground.

  Healers cast spells that relied on stimulating the body in low-priority cases and that took its toll.

  With her job finished she left them alone in the muddy corridor. If it weren't golems who did the cleaning they'd surely get an earful.

  Kerek supported his exhausted friend into the changing room.

  At this point, his old uniform was nothing more than a set of muddy drags.

  Surprisingly, or maybe not, there was a special container for such occasions in the changing room.

  Without any sentiment, he chugged his clothes in it and entered a shower.

  Standing under a trickle of warm water was nothing like what the healer subjected him to.

  Getting the leftover mud and dried blood out of his skin felt divine. When he was finished he waited for Bob.

  He'd been feeling lightheaded, exhausted, and dizzy since the healing.

  They took the elevator together this time. His colleague's weakened form leaned on the wall, while Kerek whistled happily.

  "I thought it'd be easy, but I didn't expect to win without lifting a finger," he commented. Bob ignored him.

  "Are you finished with the report?" the loser questioned. Not yet was the predictable answer he received.

  "Then how about we get an office room and finish them before we call it a day? No need to spend our free time writing reports."

  "Sounds good. You're in no condition to do anything else anyway and I'll have an easier time relaxing with the work finished."

  So, that's what they did.

  Britta happily pointed them to an unoccupied office where they could appreciate the beauty of paperwork.

  Kerek and Bob wrote it dutifully and with great care.

  Better to not have a disciplinary meeting over a lousy report.

  Two guardsmen were small prey before the monster called bureaucracy.

  Once the two of them were finished they brought their reports to the reception.

  When they clocked out they looked more haggard than after getting out of the swamp biome.