A breeze of cold wind made Jace shiver. 

Liut jumped down from the horse, no longer shielding Jace’s back with his warmth. Nightfall had crept up. With a shudder, Jace huddled into his cloak and looked up, watching stars glistening in the sky.

So many and so bright, Jace simply couldn’t stop staring.

He had never seen so many stars before. Even when it was pitch black, the real world never showed him the faint glint of the galaxy swirling with bright little dots light years away.

He was not keen on astrology, but he recognized some constellations. Did it mean they were still on Earth? That the physics worked according to the laws humanity had discovered back in his world?

Lost in his contemplation, Jace squealed when two hands clutched his sides and lifted him off the horse. Like a sack of potatoes. Did potatoes exist here? Were the continents discovered?

Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the endless shimmer of night sky and glanced at Liut.

“You didn’t answer me,” Jace whinged, hugging himself to warm up.

The horse shook its head, blowing and grunting. Liut gently patted its muzzle, cajoling the steed to stay still as he tied it to the tree.

Sparsely littered, larches and oaks grew thicker as they neared the foot of the mountain range. Liut raced them past the wide empty plains, as far away from Lodgerod as was possible. In the distance, the forest was denser, darker. Jace turned away from it, refusing to think what may lurk there.

“Didn’t answer what?” Briefly, Liut glanced at Jace over his shoulder.

“About the gods of the West and the East and so on. Are they real?”

Horse unsaddled, Liut brushed over its back with his palm.

“Haven’t met them,” he deadpanned.

They stopped by a wide, tall oak. A huge tree branch lay beside it, snapped from the tree so long ago the leaves had withered.

Jace huffed. “There are magical creatures roaming the woods and screeching wailers stealing children, it’s fair to assume the gods might be real.”

Liut walked up to the dried-up branch.

“If they were real,” he said and unsheathed the sword strapped to his back with a metallic swish, “those wailers would probably not steal children.” With one swift move, he snapped the branch in half, blade cutting through the wood as a knife through butter.

Jace bit down on his tongue. While Liut was wielding his sword, he didn’t feel like arguing.

“You have a point,” he quickly conceded. Seemed like the grim realism of deities being useless should be considered as a set premise for the time being.

With nothing better to do, Jace sat by the tree trunk and made himself comfortable, leaning against it.

“So, back to the legend,” he picked up their conversation that fell short. He was nosy like that; he kind of forgot how curious he used to be. “The Celestial Overhost granted humans knowledge and made them into an orderly society. Sounds rather nice so far.”

Liut hacked another piece of wood away and threw a few logs into a heap by his side.

“That’s how it should sound,” he confirmed. Another chunk fell victim to his blade. “The legend then tells the stories of how the Five Kingdoms came to exist.” Swish, the steel glistened under the pale moonlight. “Each was established under the watchful eye of the Celestial Overhost so the humans would stop infighting.” The logs creaked as Liut threw them onto the growing pile. “They needed to be united to face the real war with the Demons.”

“But there’s only one kingdom now,” Jace interrupted. He remembered leaving a long comment lamenting this rather lazy worldbuilding.

“That’s another story, though that one I believe in.” Liut cut off another thick block. “About Michear the Invader, who united all the kingdoms into one in the wake of the Great Famine.”

Jace watched the wide back of his savior for the day and smiled.

“You’re pretty smart,” he couldn’t help but point out. “All these legends and stories, even back then—you told me about the legend of the Stonerose Caves. How do you know so much?”

Liut snorted, flicking a glance over his shoulder.

“Believe it or not, but I paid attention to my history lessons and I’ve read a book or two.”

Giggling, Jace tucked his chin into the cloak’s collar and looked up with a wide grin.

“And here I thought you were only good in bed. Have you read some interesting books on male coupling, too?”

With a smirk, Liut turned back and raised his sword.

“That’s from hands-on experience.” He hacked through the wood. “Is that all that goes through that pretty head of yours?” Liut sent Jace a telling side-eye.

Not insulted in the least, Jace shrugged.

“Mostly, yes,” he agreed. “But now I’m genuinely curious about this legend, so do continue.”

Shaking his head, Liut sheathed the blade and bent down to gather the logs.

“I won’t go into detail about the Five Kingdoms.” He brought the wood to the pile and threw it down unceremoniously. “But in short, they thrived with the Celestial help and kept preparing for the War of Realms.” Inspecting the mess of variously sized chunks, he chose a few twigs with dry leaves shivering over them. “And, well, eventually, it did happen.” Liut looked up to meet Jace’s eyes. “The Discarded Demons tore the gate to the human realm. Darkness fell upon humanity.”

Jace held his breath. The gust of wind rustled the grass. Far away, the heavy trees creaked and hissed.

“Demonic army full of terrible creatures stepped into our world. Three-eyed snakes,” Liut continued, voice low, “luerks and buernhounds, marching corpses…” Crickets chirred, an owl hooted in the distance. Jace wrapped the cloak around himself tighter. “And screeching wailers.”

A lonely, eerie wail howled from the woods.

Eyes wide in terror, gripping the cloth, Jace shuddered and pressed himself deeper against the tree, a shiver running down his spine.

Liut bit his lip, silent laughter shaking his shoulders.

What was so funny!?

“It’s a bird,” he snorted.

Jace pursed his lips into a thin line and glared.

“Fuck you, I know it’s a bird,” he muttered.

Jace, in fact, absolutely did not know it was a bird.

“Don’t be scared, it’s safe here,” Liut placated. He threw some sort of powder over the neatly folded twigs and the flames rose up, bright and warm and, finally, Jace breathed out. “Better?”

Jace tipped his chin in a short nod.

“Though you’re right to be afraid. Unlike the gods, all those creatures are real.”

Calmed by the warmth of the fire and the fact that the best slayer of those creatures was now fixing the flames for him, Jace took a ragged breath and tried to relax.

When that failed, he started talking again.

“So the Demons got into the human realm. Did the Celestial Overhost leave once it happened? Since, well, they already prepared the humans and imparted the knowledge.”

Liut unfastened his sword and placed it close by as he sat behind the fire, crossing his legs.

“No, they didn’t leave,” he replied. “The joint army of humans and the Celestial Overhost fought for hundreds of years, generations born and killed in the War. The population of both was receding while the army of Demons remained strong. No matter how many of those creatures were killed, they still needed less time to grow up and replace the fallen. That’s where the root of the Remnants takes place.”

Frowning, Jace watched the flames dancing in front of him. His thoughts raced and the dots were connecting until he widened his eyes as the realization settled in.

“Really? They started copulating with humans?”

Liut nodded.

“Yes. Though those born were not as strong as pureblood Celestial Overlords, they were still a match for lower Demons and could easily subdue demonic creatures.”

“Lower Demons? There were ranks?”

Well, there should have been, it was a setting of a power fantasy novel.

“Supposedly,” Liut shrugged. “It’s a legend, after all.” He threw another log into the fire, sparks rising up and twisting until they dimmed into nothingness. “Some variations have different Demons, some simply describe their army as a horde of demonic creatures laying waste to everything they passed through.”

“Makes sense,” Jace agreed. “So the humans and these Celestial beings now had a bunch of hybrids fighting for them, and they still lost?”

Enchanted by the tale, Jace relaxed and leaned in, eager to hear more.

“Not exactly. Then the legend would fail to explain why we as humans still exist, wouldn’t it?”

Damn it, Liut really was too smart.

“What’s that face for?” Liut snorted.

“Nothing.” Jace pouted. “Then if they didn’t lose, where did the Celestial Overhost disappear to?” He stared at Liut, intent to learn the end of it.

Laughingly observing Jace’s antics, Liut smiled wider.

“They came to a stalemate,” he shrugged. “Now that both parties were equally matched, the war kept dragging on with no visible victor in sight.”

With a huff, Jace leaned back and crossed his hands.

“Well, that is anticlimactic,” he complained.

Still smiling, Liut added more wood to the fire and shook his head.

“Then you will be even more disappointed to learn that, in the end, the Celestial Overhost and the Discarded Demons made a peace pact.”

Indeed, Jace was thoroughly disappointed by such a lackluster finale. Who even came up with such a lame legend? They needed to read up on Greek mythology. Though, Jace reasoned, local foils for gods who decided to impregnate humans and produce overpowered offspring was an example of a standard well-preserved.

“A rather frustrating outcome for an epic legend,” Jace concluded. “So, they all just what? Abandoned the human realm and left humans to rebuild after wreaking havoc on their lands?”

“That’s right. See, you, too, are very smart,” he said, akin to placating a child.

“Don’t flatter me.” Jace scowled. “I am rather sure in my cognitive ability.” He did graduate with honors.

Liut quietly laughed and nodded a few times. He started laughing more, Jace noted somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Of course,” Liut reassured, still with that tender note of an adult agreeing with the kid that the dinosaurs, or more like dragons, were very cool. “And you correctly predicted the ending. After the Celestial and Demonic beings returned to their own realms, they didn’t bother to take their weapons with them. The Demons left behind their creatures, and the Celestial beings left behind their children born from humans. Countless magical artifacts used by both sides to fight in the war were left scattered all over the world.”

“Oh, I know that!” Jace exclaimed. “The Dark Brotherhood were the ones collecting them and ensuring they did no harm,” he proudly stated. This part of the story he knew all too well; the hunt for the artifacts was an ongoing plotline.

“Correct,” Liut affirmed.

“So—” Jace shifted in his place, immersed in the conversation—“The Remnants of the Celestial Blood are descendants of those very first half-bloods?”

“Yes,” Liut gave a short nod. “Now you’re all caught up,” he announced with faux ceremony. “There were no sightings of anyone of that sort for centuries, majority of the records were lost during Michear’s conquest. Even if they ever existed, their blood must’ve thinned so much that they’re nothing more than regular humans by now.”

The fire crackled and a sole cloud hid the moon above.

Jace wondered why the author of The Venerable One Has Found His Way wrote Liut to be so skeptical about the Remnants. Did Jace royally fuck up by not killing the damn virgin and becoming the real, breathing example?

Or was this whole side-plot solely kickstarted by his transmigration and he led the protagonist on a goose chase?

Fuck. Jace felt the beginning of a throbbing headache.