The tour with Stell eventually ended and Luka pointed him in the direction of Jear for an interview. The Elven Consort sat on the ground floor level, talking with people about her daughter and answering any questions about the hotel.

  From a cursory glance, Luka could tell the attention was annoying her. She was a pseudo-immortal who lived alone in her husband tree for decades at a time—in other words, she was the very definition of an introvert. But she was also a new mother who loved to talk about how cute her child was… even if she got some strange looks for it.

  “Come on,” Luka said to Franky, pulling him out of the crowded interior and around the back of the World Tree. “I was thinking here is good.”

  They stood in a mostly flat, grassy field. The area was part of Ressen’s ring of cleared forest and yet saw minimal gardening by her. Her moat pond and arch-covered walkway extended around her circumference, but that was about it. Walking all the way around her took a while, and few park guests truly cared to, making the area perfect for hosting the various mounts hotel guests might ride to town.

  Franky adopted a predatory smile. “It’s perfect.”

  Luka nodded in agreement. “I’ll build a fence and a few shady barns. Can you grab Leo and Sebby? I want to ask them what kind of entertainment they’ll want. Chew toys and maybe a few climbing perches.”

  “That sounds—” The orc froze, reeling back in surprise at a sight across the way. There, in the closest layer of the forest, was a dire-emu.

  Olive the emu was Eve’s mount and incredibly dull. It wasn’t her fault; emus had the smallest brains to body-size in the animal kingdom. But, as Luka had come to learn, Olive was a special bird.

  She trotted out of the forest with a silver and gold… beast on her back. It sat atop her like a rider, clutching her feathers as if they were reins. Olive noticed Luka and Franky watching her, freezing in place like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar. The thing on her back gently pulled her feather trying to get her to move, but no. She stood petrified.

  “I… think we should go check on her,” Franky mumbled, stepping toward her. Luka followed.

  As they neared the creature on her back, it stood on its stubby back legs. About the size of a fat cat, it was stripped like a tiger but with the face of a capybara. It made up for a lack of claws or talons with bucked teeth that would be perfect for chopping down logs. It eyed Luka and Franky as they walked, almost affronted that they’d approach.

  It also wore a tiny golden crown atop its head, jewels of all colors shimmering in the morning light.

  The creature’s annoyed expression turned soft. “Ah, you must be my welcoming party.”

  Both Franky and Luka froze.

  It just spoke, they both thought, looking at each other. Slowly, they turned back, finding the little guy to have crossed its stubby arms impatiently.

  “Well?” it asked. “Are you going to announce my presence to these lands or will I have to take my trusty steed to find someone proper?”

  In Luka’s short time in this world, he’d experienced many strange, strange things. From odd races to literal gods, he adapted to it all like a savant. Even his daughter and son-in-law questioned how he was able to flow with the surrealness so easily.

  This was not one of those times.

  His brain short circuited, his mouth sputtering half-baked thought of wonder mixed with strange utterances of surprise and confusion.

  Franky filled in. “Are you… are you a Gilded Beast?”

  “The peasants in these lands are a little slow it seems,” the beast muttered dejectedly. It shook its head slowly before regaining its composure. “You are correct, sir. Are you not the welcome party for this great tree here?”

  “We are.” Franky stole a glance at Luka, who was still bug-eyed. “We just didn’t expect someone of such renown would visit so soon.”

  The creature shrugged. “My fellow monarchs wander our lands often enough. I just happened to be close by when,” it gestured at Ressen, “she appeared.”

  “What is going on?” Luka whispered, finally recovering.

  Franky leaned over. “This is a Gilded Beast.”

  “A what!?”

  The beast cleared its throat. “Allow me.” It stood tall on its back legs, puffing its chest. “I am King Orris Argentpaw, Gilded Beast to these lands and Monarch to the Beasts of Embers.”

  Franky, still leaned into Luka’s ear, said, “When they said a princess was coming, I expected something different.”

  Orris scoffed. “I am no princess!”

  Something in Luka’s mind finally switched on. He adapted, finally able to roll with the talking opossum king wearing a literal crown. “Ah, then we are going to be graciously visited by two royals. How lucky.”

  Was it really lucky? Luka didn’t think so. He had too much to do, and dealing with… whatever was happening right now was not what he wanted to be doing. Still, he couldn’t offend a Gilded Beast, whatever that was, until he knew more. He sighed internally, wishing Tram or, honestly, Jear was here. They’d handle this easily enough.

  At Luka’s words, Orris flinched. “A Princess of Embers is here? We must meet! Take me to her!”

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “She’s not here yet.” As a World Walker, Luka missed much of the important context of events such as this. He didn’t know the history, culture, or emotions behind a Gilded Beast.

  “Very well,” Orris stated flatly. “Take me to my chambers.” He hopped from Olive’s back, landing in the grass with a thud. “Good steed.” He patted her on the leg. “You have served me well.”

  Olive refused to make eye contact with Luka or Franky. Instead, she slowly inched away, then sprinted off, chirping for her rider. Would she find Eve or get distracted by a butterfly? It was anyone’s guess.

  “What are we standing here for?” Orris asked, tapping his stubby foot impatiently. “I wish to retire from my long journey.”

  “R-right.” Luka was, again, at a loss for words. Just what do they do in this situation? Does a Gilded Beast require a full VIP floor?

  “This is perfect,” Franky said, taking on a smile. “We needed a ‘hotel’ for the beasts staying at the World Tree. Who better to have a say in its construction than a King of Beasts!?”

  Luka blinked rapidly then looked down at Orris. “Is that something you’d be interested in?”

  The king rolled his eyes. “Are you saying my chambers are not built yet? What kind of operation are you running?”

  Franky knelt. “Nothing of the sort. See this man here?” He gestured at Luka. “This is a World Walker. He can build anything you can imagine in moments. Just tell him what you want, and he will make sure it gets done.”

  Luka looked as if he smelt something foul. “Really?” he muttered. Franky shot him a warning look—obviously Gilded Beasts were important. “Fine. But I do have stuff to do today. We’ve got VIPs and divine envoys arriving soon.”

  Orris raised his chin. “They are of no consequence. My chambers are your only responsibility, otherworlder.”

  Luka sighed as if the world was burning, shook his head, and walked toward Ressen’s base. Guess I’m building a small castle in the mount stables, he thought.

  He took deep breaths, his magic flaring to life. Today was already going to be stressful enough and now he had to deal with this.

  He just hoped there wouldn’t be any more surprises.

  ***

  Hell broke loose around noon.

  Luka heard the trumpets first, followed by the sound of marching soldiers. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his head aching from overexerting his magic. He stood in front of Ressen, a small, but very detailed castle between them. Gilded Beast King Orris lounged lazily inside, dictating his every wish for his personal chambers. Down to the patterned floor tiles and the specific angle of each of the spires, he had something to say about all of it.

  And Franky had left to find Eve, so Luka didn’t know if he had to follow the little rodent’s every whim. Were Gilded Beasts important? He simply didn’t know.

  “Ah, that must be my royal sister,” Orris said, popping up. His little crown always remained on his head, even if he laid draped across his regal bedding. “I must prepare.” With the declaration, a vial of liquid magically appeared in his hand. He uncorked it, drank the liquid, gargled, and spat. “Minty fresh.”

  Luka could only shake his head—but he stopped when a shadow swooped overhead. Glancing up, he found a duo of winged monsters.

  “D-dragons!?” He had never seen a dragon, but occasionally someone in the park mentioned them. They existed here, but as Luka understood, they were more people-like than monster-like. Whatever that meant.

  Orris snorted. “Dragons? No, my dear boy! Those are wyvern! They must belong to the princess!”

  “Belong?”

  “Wyvern riders are only affordable by the most esteemed high society members!” The rodent considered for a moment. “But I suppose your ignorance is understandable. Someone of your standard would never know the wealth needed to cultivate wyverns.”

  Luka shook his head and stood. He was so done building a castle for this creature. That was when a figure limped from the treeline—a bloody, bruised figure. Defiance and fear shown on the young man’s face as he B-lined toward the World Walker.

  Batty Barns was the park’s head of security… and also a former street gang leader. If he was beaten, that could only mean one thing. His former boss was here, a crime lord and a VIP to the park.

  “Luka!” Barns yelled, waving and grimacing from his blue face.

  “Barns!? What happened!?” He yanked the air firm with his magic, forming a soft invisible chair for the man to sit on. He guided him down, noting Barns’ shirt… it wasn’t the usual park threads.

  “What? Oh, my face, yeah.” Barns shrugged as if his eyes weren’t almost swollen shut. “I was expecting this, don’t worry.”

  “You were expecting to be beaten!?”

  “Yeah, of course. You don’t leave the underworld without an exit beating, everyone knows that.”

  “Even your team?”

  “Yeah, but don’t worry. I took their beatings for them. We’re all good.”

  Luka stood stunned. He could roll with gods, princesses, even a talking arrogant rodent, but this? This wasn’t right. He rolled his artifact ring around his finger, activating its recipe magic.

  Requirements for a Potion of Healing (high grade):

  1 oz of life essence

  1 oz of mystic honey

  1 oz of boiled water

  1 oz cherry juice (for flavor, optional).

  He would go to Sol right now and have her brew the recipe. Barns would be healed within the hour—the injured man grabbed Luka’s arm, ripping him from his inner thoughts.

  “That’s not why I came looking for you,” Barns said, pained. “You have guests—”

  “The princess!” Orris said, amused from a few steps away. “We know.”

  Barns stared at the rodent. “Luka, why is there a talking raccoon?”

  “R-raccoon!?” the Gilded Beast demanded. “I will have you know, I am a descendant from the First Beast!”

  “And was the First Beast a raccoon?”

  “She was an opossum, you bleeding idiot!” Orris stomped his foot, a hand-fan appearing in his little fingers. He aggressively fanned himself as if it were the summer months. “Backwoods servants…” he muttered. “Making my heart race…”

  Luka shuffled a little, so he stood between them. “Ignore him,” he whispered. “We know about the princess. I was on my way to her when I saw you come out of the forest.”

  Barns shook his head. “No, not her. Our new outfitters are here.”

  “What?”

  The security guard pulled at his bloodstained shirt. “Followers of God Hyrin. They came with a few crates of park uniforms for us. Said they were payment for—”

  “Opening a barbershop in the park, yeah.” Luka sighed. “Everyone’s here at once, huh?”

  When it rains, it pours, he thought.

  Barns then opened his mouth. “Oh, and Tram’s looking for you. The WHEEL broke down and people were jumping from the gondolas after ten minutes. Goddess Tippy’s blessing lowered them to the ground safely, but they’re making a fuss about the inconvenience.”

  Great! Just great! Luka trudged to the park, shaking his head.

  “Also, those mages here from the Guilds are here.”