Close Call

Coughing numerous times, the Captain of the Guardsmen groaned, annoyed by the cold he'd been subject to for the last few days. Nothing had been happening, making him incredibly bored, though he had to admit that he was somewhat happy that his life wasn't in danger.

While traveling on his steed past the snow-covered trees that towered over them, he looks back at the carriage his Lord is staying in. Magic-imbued wood that protects the inhabitants from all sorts of weather. Jealously filled his heart, but he knew better than to get upset over something like this.

At that moment, he felt it: the cold embrace of death. That horrendous feeling and terrible chill going up his spine told him something was wrong and that it was right behind him. Turning around quickly, he took out his sword in preparation for battle. 

Scanning the environment, he froze. Not just him, but all his men too. The carriages all around ground to a halt as they stared at one location: his Lord's carriage. It radiated without a doubt the stench of death. They had to act; no, they needed to act. Whatever was happening within the carriage, their Lord was likely in danger, yet they couldn't move. Whatever was inside was just too terrifying to the point that their instincts were going haywire, warning them that no matter what or the cost, they should not approach.

It felt like hours until the putrid scent of death finally faded away. Regaining courage, he slowly descended from his horse and carefully approached the carriage. He signals his men to be ready for battle and takes a deep breath before knocking on the prestigious door.

...

Fiddling with the Essence Detector in his pocket, Aldrik finally manages to store enough dark mana within the object, causing it to glow an eerie blue.

'Few, alright. This should convince them, though I doubt it'll convince a Dark Mage. Thank God there's none among them.'

Opening the carriage door, the Captain stares at him momentarily before gazing within with sword drawn.

Scanning the inside of the carriage, the Captain places his sword back into his sheath. "Apologies, my Lord. Are you well? I, well, we detected a hazardous presence within your carriage."

Silently praying that this works, Aldrik shows the Captain the essence detector. "It's this thing. It's filled to the brim with death, though it appears to have mostly been drained by me opening it earlier."

Throwing it to the Captain, he activates the Essence Detector, and dread washes over him. It is not as strong as before, but it was undoubtedly from the same source. Confirming the Lord's alibi, the Captain speaks,

"I understand, my Lord. I do not know what happened to this Essence Detector, but shall I have it destroyed?"

Aldrik nods before slowly approaching the Captain and whispering into his ear, 

"Keep this under wraps. I don't want anyone finding out about this little defective product from my family."

He nods firmly, understanding the gravity of his family's reputation being at stake as they manufacture these Essence Detectors. 

"As you wish, my Lord. This product shall be destroyed, and I'll take this secret to my grave."

Nodding once more, Aldrik returns to his carriage and closes the door. Sighing a breath of relief that the Captain bought it, he silently thanked his God for probably choosing this vessel for him. Who knew how convenient it would be to be from a wealthy family that makes magical products?

Gazing outside the window, he notes the carriage finally moving. The fact he couldn't even tell whether it was at a standstill or not was impressive. Even in his old world, such a level of magic was at most theoretical. 

'Theories in my old world are probably facts in this. Perhaps here, I can become even stronger than my old body. However, I'll never choose to become a Lich again this time. I'll find a new, stronger bloodline that'll make the Outer Kings shiver in fear. Mmm, I love a good plan.'

Moving to a lying down position, he conjures a mirror before himself. 

'Hm. It seems I lost almost all my powers except for my soul-bound abilities. Thank the Dark God that I took so many useful ones...'

Gazing at his new body, he made keynotes about its appearance. His skin was milky white and as soft as a pillow. His hair was long and black, and his eyes were deep and gold. He gazed down to examine his body stature and simply sighed. This wasn't a fighter's body; it was a spoiled kid's body. 

'Ah well, all I have to do is hope this body's potential is high.'

...

As days turned to nights, and nights turned to days, they had finally arrived at the South Port. Stepping outside his carriage, the cold breeze swept by, reminding him that they were still up in the far reaches of the north.

Looking around, he counts at least twelve other carriages, of which he recognizes none. Walking past the mediocre buildings, he appears before a green tent. This is where he had to be, and since he was the first one here, he gets to skip the line. 

Entering, he sees a middle-aged man with an old lady talking. Noticing Aldrik's presence, they coughed, welcoming him inside.

The old lady spoke with a dry but delighted voice, "Alright, I'm sure your father taught you what to do before you came here. Just place your non-dominant hand on my hand, and we can measure your potential." 

As Aldrik approached, the middle-aged man stopped him. "Lord, may I have your name and rank before we continue?"

Thinking to himself, Aldrik audibly sighs and speaks with tire. "Let's get this over with. It's been a long journey, and I haven't even indulged myself with food yet. I am the son of a Viscount, and my name is Alexander Heathcliff."

The middle-aged man nods as he gazes at his notebook and then warmly smiles. "Ah, you're on the list. Thank you for your attendance, Lord. You may now continue."