I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

The journey took the better part of eight hours.

The road changed character several times — smooth near Ezakael, rougher through the mid-stretch where maintenance had clearly been inconsistent, then gradually better again as they approached Astran territory. The escort kept pace without incident. They stopped once to water the horses and eat, and the Duke said nothing during that interval either.

Julian sat with the discomfort of the journey and said nothing about it.

What he did not say — what he kept entirely to himself — was that the eight hours had required a continuous, mind-consuming effort to simply remain in the carriage.

The instinct to teleport had surfaced somewhere around the third hour.

He knew exactly where the duchy was. He could have been there and back before the horses covered another mile. The restraint required to ignore that pull was more taxing than he had anticipated.

The Astran duchy gates appeared in the late afternoon.

Julian had formed certain expectations from Kraven’s memories. The Astran family was one of the most powerful in the Hermes Kingdom. Second only to the crown in influence, the memories had said. He had anticipated something that reflected that.

What he found was not that.

The gates were medium-sized, built of stone but not imposing for a family of this standing. The walls extending from either side were solid enough, but they lacked the presence that Kraven’s memories had implied.

Julian studied them through the carriage window without expression.

Two guards stood at watch on either side of the gate.

They were beastmen — large, broad-shouldered, with the particular muscular build that came with that bloodline. Their armor was a deep bluish grey and at the chest, a symbol had been etched into the metal.

Crossed swords over a shield.

Julian looked at it carefully.

Then he looked at his own memory of the Astran sigil — the one that lived in Kraven’s recollections of the family crest, the banners in the castle hall.

It didn’t match.

He had no time to consider what that meant because the carriage slowed and then stopped entirely.

One of the guards stepped forward and knocked on the carriage door with a knuckle.

“Who’s inside.”

Julian found it immediately strange. The carriage was unmistakably the Astran carriage. The gold fittings, the black body, the mounted escort — there was nothing strange about what this was or who it belonged to. Any guard at this gate had seen it before.

He glanced at his father.

The Duke’s jaw had tightened. A barely visible thing, but visible enough.

The Duke opened the carriage door himself and stepped down onto the road.

He stood before the two guards, his head held high.

“I am the lord of this duchy,” he said. His voice was even. Controlled. “Open the gate.”

The guard who had knocked looked at him for a moment with the particular expression of someone who was bored. Then he exchanged a glance with his partner.

“The lord,” he repeated. He said it the way one might acknowledge a minor inconvenience.

Neither of them moved immediately.

They took their time. One adjusted the strap on his armor. The other looked past the Duke at the carriage as though noting it without urgency. Seconds passed that had no reason to pass.

Julian watched from inside, saying nothing.

Then the second guard spoke to the first, his voice low but not quite low enough.

“Let them through. Lord Liam said we don’t need to push it too far.”

A pause.

The first guard looked back at the Duke with the same flat expression. “You can pass.”

The gates began to open.

The Duke stood there for a moment after they started moving. His back was to Julian, so his face wasn’t visible. But the set of his shoulders said enough.

He climbed back into the carriage without a word.

The carriage moved forward through the gate.

Julian said nothing. He looked at his father once and then looked away, turning his attention to what waited beyond.

The duchy opened up on the other side of the gate.

Julian leaned slightly toward the window as the carriage moved deeper in. Whatever expectations the underwhelming gate had swallowed, the city itself corrected quickly.

The roads were well-paved and appeared to be consistently maintained. Market stalls lined the edges of the streets, well-stocked with a variety of goods and commodities. The buildings were sturdy and featured architecture distinct from that seen in the Ares Kingdom.

It was a good duchy. Well-run. That much was obvious within the first few minutes.

He watched the streets as the carriage moved.

Then people began to notice it.

It happened the way these things always happened — gradually, then all at once. A vendor paused mid-transaction, his hand still extended toward a customer. A woman carrying a basket stopped walking entirely and shifted it to her other arm without seeming to notice she had done it. Two men near a corner stall leaned toward each other and one of them nodded in the carriage’s direction.

And soon a crowd formed at the edge of the road.

People stood silently, watching the carriage pass with expressions that Julian found immediately readable. Recognition came first — this was clearly not a difficult carriage to identify. After recognition came something else.

Pity.

That much was obvious when it appeared on multiple faces in sequence.

Julian watched them from the window.

He couldn’t hear the gossips directly. The carriage muffled the sounds but he had spent enough time studying people to read the shape of a conversation.

The carriage slowed near a busier intersection to let a delivery cart cross, and in that interval the street sounds came through more clearly.

The lord’s carriage.

His own brother.

Taking everything from him.

Julian turned from the window.

His father was sitting exactly as he had been sitting for the entire journey. But something had changed in the last few minutes. The composure was the same. The posture was the same. Underneath both of those things, something had drawn tighter.

“What are they saying about you.”

Julian kept his voice calm.

His father looked at him.

The Duke held the look for a moment, and Julian could see him deciding something — whether to answer or not.

Then the man’s jaw tightened briefly. A small thing. The closest Julian had seen him come to showing frustration openly.

“After you left for Ezakael,” the Duke said, “Liam discovered something.”

He paused.

“About you.”