False Monarch

'If I am not wrong, the rent was 20 Silvers, and the market price for the mirror should be around 10 silvers' thought Ashok. Thinking of his Inventory, he retrieved a single gold coin and flicked it across the counter with practiced ease, the soft metallic clink echoing faintly in the stillness of the room. The coin tumbled, spinning end over end, before landing with a soft thud just beside the girl's unconscious face.

'This should cover the cost for the customers. Though it won't make up for the mental damage they've endured. But then again, I don't have much to spare right now. Even the fee of the Warp Portal to the Academy is 1 Gold Coin.'

The moment Ashok took the first step out of the Inn

[Attention Level: Maximum]

[False Monarch]

'How? I have just taken a single step? A SINGLE STEP? Then how in the hell is the Attention Level at the Maximum?' questions keep popping into questions mind but his body and aura had already started to shift according to the Trait.

Ashok's back automatically straightened, his posture shifting in an almost imperceptible yet powerful way. His shoulders squared, relaxed but commanding. His movements became deliberate, each one calculated, and with a subtle tilt of his head upwards, he seemed to look down on everything around him, a display of dominance. It was the perfect stance of a Tyrant, embodying authority without a single word spoken.

Ashok's red eyes, now steadied glowed with a faint but unmistakable light, a piercing brilliance that seemed to cut through the air itself. The next step he took was slower, almost deliberate, but it was flawless. His gait was perfect, a rhythm that demanded attention.

Ashok's gaze swept across the road, his red eyes piercing through the bustling scene in an instant. The carriages, their wheels creaking on the cobblestone, were the only things in motion, rolling steadily along the road. The passengers inside them were staring at him, their eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and unease.

On the opposite side of the elevated trail, pedestrians walking to their daily tasks, had frozen in place, their attention fully captured by his presence.

As he took another slow, deliberate step forward, crossing the threshold of the Inn and stepping fully onto the road, Ashok's gaze shifted to his side of the trail. The people on his side were also watching him, as if waiting for something, but keeping a careful distance— fearing to come close to him, yet drawn to the force that radiated from him.

The Warp Portal was only five hundred meters away from the Inn, but with every step Ashok took, the journey became harder. It wasn't the physical exertion that wore Ashok but the weight of the gazes that seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. He couldn't tell whether it was because of his False Monarch trait or the Overwhelming Charisma that made him conscious of every gaze, as though he was being observed under a magnifying glass.

'PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME. LOOK SOMEWHERE ELSE. THERE IS SO MUCH TO LOOK AT IN THE ENTIRE WORLD BUT JUST STOP LOOKING AT ME.'

Ashok was screaming in his mind but his outward composure remained unshaken. His expression was calm, his steps as perfect and deliberate as ever. As he walked, the pedestrians instinctively shifted aside, making way for him.

Whispers began to ripple through the crowd, low enough to remain unnoticed by most, but loud enough for Ashok's sharp ears to catch.

"Hey! Who is that kid?"

"Just look at his skin. It looks so good and shiny."

"Why is he hiding his face like a bandit?"

"Isn't he wearing the clothes of the Academy, but what's the reason to hide his face?"

"Are the students of the Academy this fearsome these days? What is this pressure I'm feeling from him?"

"Maybe he's the New Hero Chosen by the Church."

"Nah! I've seen the Hero. He doesn't release this kind of pressure. I'm sure this kid is either a Third or Fourth Year."

Ashok hadn't even walked a hundred meters yet, but the weight of the attention was already beginning to crack at his mental fortitude. Each word, each hushed comment, every wondering glance felt like a physical pressure against his mind. His mental strength was beginning to fray under the sheer volume of gazes and the constant undercurrent of whispers that followed him.

In the room of the inn, enclosed in the four walls, he had felt above everyone. But now, outside, it felt different. It will take time for him to get used to this Charisma in the public.

'This will not do. If I had to endure this kind of attention every single day at the Academy... then forget about getting stronger than the main characters. I would die from the mental damage. Change of plans. The Artifact takes priority over the Academy.

Entering the Academy late? It's not harder than taking the next step right here.'

Ashok's gaze fell upon an open horse carriage—a Barouche—approaching him from the opposite direction without any passenger. The elegant vehicle was moving smoothly along the cobbled street, its wheels creaking softly with every turn. His intention had been simple; he wanted to stop the carriage without drawing too much attention. But as the moment arrived, something inside him shifted, and the command left his lips with an undeniable force.

"STOP!"

Everyone who had heard his command, whether they were pedestrians on his side of the street, the carriages passing in the opposite direction, or even those further down the road, had stopped.

.....

A few moments earlier, the carriage driver had already felt the intense, burning weight of Ashok's gaze. Anyone could tell that Ashok was clearly aiming to get on his carriage, but the driver, overwhelmed by an unexplainable fear did not want to stop the carriage for Ashok. The weight of Ashok's gaze was so penetrating to him, it felt as if Ashok himself could burn him alive with nothing but his eyes.

'No! I won't stop. I can't stop. I won't take him. Not today.' were the thoughts of the Driver.