Reincarnation of Nikola Tesla in another world-Chapter 14: Authority

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Aldric and I stood inside Eldrune's Emporium, the scent of aged parchment and incense lingering in the air. The old shopkeeper himself bustled about, adjusting a stack of precariously leaning books before turning to me with a dramatic flourish.

"Ah! If it isn't my most _discerning_ young scholar! Back so soon! No doubt _thirsting_ for more eldritch enlightenment! Welcome, welcome once again to Eldrune's Emporium, where secrets are shared and knowledge is but a humble purchase away!"

I nodded, unfazed by his theatrics. Aldric, however, stared at him like he'd just sprouted a second head.

The shopkeeper's gaze flickered toward my companion. "Ah. And you've brought... a _bystander_."

Aldric frowned. "I'm not just a bystander—"

"Oh, of _course_ you're not! Perish the thought! You're merely... an _uninitiated observer_, an _onlooker_, a _non-customer_, if you will. But no shame in that, none at all! Every great journey _begins_ with hesitation! _Some_ of us merely need a little push to—" He clapped his hands together, "—make that all-important _first purchase_."

Aldric scowled. "I _have_ money, you know."

Eldrune gasped, staggering back as if the very words had struck him. "Oh-ho! He _has_ money! And yet, he chooses to merely _exist_ within my establishment? A _waste_, a tragedy! Tell me, my young _financially capable_ friend, are you truly content to _drift_ through life as a mere—dare I say—_spectator_? Or shall you, too, partake in the boundless wonders of the arcane?"

Aldric, visibly irritated, marched up to a cluttered shelf and grabbed a small glowing core encased in glass. "Fine. I'll take this."

The transformation was _instantaneous_. Eldrune's eyes _shone_ with warmth, his posture straightened, and his entire demeanor shifted into one of exaggerated reverence.

"Ah! A _wise_ choice! A truly _discerning_ young patron! One whose _taste_ and _foresight_ mark him as a soul destined for _greatness_! Allow me to introduce you properly to this fine relic, my most _astute_ customer!"

Aldric blinked. "Wait. I was a bystander like five seconds ago—"

"Ah, but that was _before_! A past life, a forgotten existence! Now, you stand before me as a true _connoisseur of the mystical arts_! Let me regale you with the tale of this artifact..."

And thus, Aldric was promptly subjected to an _intensely_ detailed and _unnecessarily dramatic_ explanation about the Core of the Whispering Deer, a magical item with questionable usefulness but _absolutely fascinating_ marketing.

I stood back, watching Aldric's face shift from confusion to mild regret.

I had to admit, it was kind of fun watching someone else get the full Eldrune Experience™.

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The beast flew through the night, its wings cutting through the clouds. Its feathers were dark and sleek, with every flap they carried it forward with speed.

On its back, Vaqihr sat in the cold wind. He raised a hand slightly, feeling something. The place was close.

He leaned in, speaking a single word into the beast's ear.

The beast understood. It pulled its wings tight and dove, the wind moving past them as they fell toward the town faster than a rain drop. The beast legs struck the ground with a heavy, wet crunch,as gust of soil curled from the site.

Vaqihr descended upon the mythical creature with the calm patience of a man dissecting a puzzle.

"Artificial," he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Someone forced this spell past its limit."

Behind him, the townsfolk watched in silence. No one spoke. No one moved. They wouldn't dare.

Then the bells rang.

A single chime echoed through the square, followed by the heavy clatter of hooves against stone. The crowd parted to give way when it arrived.

At the front rode an older man, draped in robes embroidered with the emblem of his station. His face was lined with age, but it was not wisdom that filled his eyes. It was _fear_.

The Town Chief.

He did not hesitate. The moment his boots touched the ground, he _fell to his knees_, pressing his forehead against the dirt.

The whole town was in silence.

Then—_thud_.

One by one, the rest of the town followed. Every single man, woman, and child collapsed to the ground, bowing so low that their trembling hands left prints in the dust.

No one spoke. No one breathed.

Vaqihr did not acknowledge them. He continued his work, eyes scanning the ruin, the air around him distorting as his Clairvoyance spell scanned. The streets around him flickered—burned wood rebuilt itself, shattered glass reassembled, time itself rolling backward in ghostly afterimages.

The fire. The screams. The moment the uncanny things happened.

Then a figure. A boy, standing at the heart of the inferno, untouched.

Vaqihr's lips curled slightly. _Interesting._

Only then did he turn to face the kneeling masses.

His gaze settled on the Town Chief, who _flinched_ under the weight of it.

Vaqihr let the silence _drag_, savoring the moment.

Then, finally, he spoke.

_"You may rise."_

"Why were all these guards here at the same time? chief" he asked.

His voice isn't loud, but it doesn't need to be.

The Chief licks his lips, forcing a brittle smile. "Grand Wizard Vaqihr, it is an honor to finally meet you. I am—"

"Just answer the question."

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The Chief's mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. His fingers twitch against his robe. "I... I don't know."

Vaqihr exhales slowly. Expected.

"The beast standing here isnt just any monster." He lifts his chin, letting the words settle. "It is a Chimera—the last of its kind in this kingdom. _The only one._"

The Chief's face twitches, but he stays silent.

"And yet, the Emperor himself gifted it to me." Vaqihr takes a slow step forward. His boots make no sound against the scorched earth. "Do you know why?"

Nothing.

"Because I understand even the beasts, that do not speak."

The market square holds its breath. Some people shrink back, pressing their heads lower into the dirt, as if making themselves smaller will save them from his gaze.

Vaqihr keeps his voice even.

"How many times have you sent your guards for _official training_?"

The Chief lowers his head.

"How many invitations have you accepted for feasts? For noble banquets? You never missed a single one." His tone doesn't change. But then, his next words cut deeper.

"And the annual briefings? never huh!"

The Chief clenches his fists. But he doesn't answer.

Vaqihr lets the silence fester before turning toward the gathered crowd. When he speaks, it is no longer a question.

"By the authority of the Emperor and the Grand Council, I strip you of your title. You are unfit to govern."

Gasps ripple through the square.

The Chief freezes. His breath hitches. The color drains from his face. His pulse hammers so loud, Vaqihr can almost hear it.

And then, it happens.

"This is my town!" His voice cracks, high and wild. His body surges forward, rage erasing his fear. "Who are you to take it from me?!"

Vaqihr doesn't move.

His fingers twitch.

The Chief jerks back violently, feet leaving the ground as an unseen force hurls him through the air. A crushing, invisible weight slams into his chest, driving him backward like a ragdoll.

The moment his body collides with the carriage door, the wood explodes into splinters.

He slumps forward, wheezing, limbs twitching.

No one speaks.

Vaqihr barely spares him a glance.

"Take him." His voice is indifferent, like dismissing a broken tool. "A new Chief will be chosen soon."

The guards hesitate. Then they move, dragging the disgraced man away. The onlookers remain frozen.

Vaqihr lifts a hand. The air warps, magic crackling at his fingertips as Clairvoyance expands outward.

His voice is quiet. Almost amused.

"...Where are you now, kid?"

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