A Girl and her Maid

The moment Ashok's voice boomed out with the command, "STOP!" the carriage driver's body went stiff with the force of the sound. Despite the terror clawing at his insides, he had somehow managed to suppress his instincts with fear, forcing himself not to pull the reins and stop the carriage.

Alas! His fate was doomed.

Charisma was not bound by human will alone—it extended beyond that, influencing everything around him, even the animals. The horses, sensing the overwhelming pressure of Ashok's command, broke free from the driver's control. With a powerful, sudden movement, both horses reared up in the air, their hooves striking at the sky.

NEIGHHH!

The horses, still rearing with their powerful neighs, came to a sudden stop right in front of Ashok. For the first time in his entire life, the carriage driver wanted to kill his own horses, his only way of Income. How could he not? His horses just betrayed him under the someone else's presence.

"W-Where will you go, Sire?"

Ashok had already noticed the driver's fear on his face and also the intention of not stopping. He didn't feel the need to comment on it. After all, if he had been in the driver's position, he might have acted similarly. But the question remained: Would the Trait allow him to simply walk away without speaking anything?

His gaze, cold and piercing, finally shifted back to the driver. With his eyes fixed downward, as if looking down on something far beneath him, Ashok's voice rang out, laced with disdain, but carrying an undeniable authority.

"You should be grateful to your horses. Had they not defied your foolish will, you would have been nothing more than an insignificant memory."

'STOOOOP! What is with that way of speaking? Who saved whose life? Anybody, Please Stop this shitty trait right now.' Ashok was nearly banging his head on an imaginary wall right now.

Meanwhile, each word that fell from Ashok's lips was like a hammer striking the driver's chest, the sheer intensity of his presence pushing the man to the edge. If Ashok had uttered even one or two more words, the driver surely would have died of a heart attack.

With a sudden, desperate burst of action, the driver scrambled down from his seat, his legs nearly giving way beneath him. His heart raced in fear, and without a moment's hesitation, he fell to his knees, his face pressed to the ground in a near-prostration. His voice trembled as he cried out, "I AM EXTREMELY SORRY, GREAT SIRE!"

It was around 11 A.M., the peak of the day when the streets were busiest, filled with a steady stream of carriages and pedestrians rushing to their daily tasks. But amidst all the movement, there was Ashok — standing at the having caused an unexpected halt in the flow of the road by making a carriage stop and making the driver plead to him.

With nothing more than few words and presence, Ashok had created a traffic jam that blocked the path of countless other carriages. The road had come to a standstill, the sharp contrast of Ashok's presence against the normal rhythm of the street impossible to ignore. Passengers in other carriages, along with several drivers, began to notice the commotion.

Anger and frustration at getting late tugged some of the drivers and passengers. They got out of their carriages to remove the cause of the blockage. But the moment they caught sight of the scene—Ashok standing tall, his overwhelming presence filling the space, and the driver kneeling, nearly prostrated in the middle of the road—every shred of their bravery evaporated and they rushed back.

"I shall show mercy upon your impudence just for today," Said Ashok Without waiting for a response, he swiftly climbed into the carriage, eager to avoid further escalation that might attract even more unwanted attention.

The driver, his nerves still frayed from the intensity of Ashok's presence, hurriedly climbed back into the carriage.

"W-Where would you like to go, Great Sire?" the driver asked in a timid, trembling voice, barely able to meet Ashok's gaze.

"A shop by the name of Robert's Antiques, located at the Central Market,"

"Sire, if I may be so bold…" The driver began, his voice dripping with respect and caution," From the clothes you are wearing, you must be a new student to the Academy. If I am not mistaken, the Warp Portal to the Academy closes around 11:15 A.M." His words, though soft and tentative, were laced with genuine concern as he offered his suggestion.

The driver, a man who had seen many come and go, knew all too well the time-sensitive nature of the Portal. He continued, his voice lower as if trying not to offend, "The Warp Portal and the Central Market lie on opposite sides of the city, and by the time we return from Robert's Antiques, the Academy may well have closed its gates."

But did the suggestion matter? The Trait was named False Monarch. Monarchs do not need suggestions; they dictate, and others follow.

"Do as you are told." Commanded Ashok.

With just five words and an increase in pressure from Ashok, the driver immediately understood the message. This was not someone to reason with, nor was he someone whose authority could be challenged. The carriage jerked into motion, the wheels turning as the horses moved, but in the opposite direction of the Academy.

Meanwhile, everything that was happening was watched by two women inside a closed carriage that had stopped on the other side.

"Do you know who the man was and which noble house he belonged to, Maelis?" asked the girl with golden hair wearing the same uniform as Ashok.

"He was not a man, My lady. He appeared to be the same age as you, and judging by his attire, he must be headed to the Academy. But with that... banda... Ahem! Mask covering his face, it's difficult to identify which family he might belong to" Answered the woman sitting on the opposite side wearing the attire of a maid.

"It seems his power is related to the pressure he was releasing," said the girl with golden hair, her voice tinged with curiosity. "His pressure managed to infiltrate the carriage, despite the many layers of protection around us."

"That boy must have mastered it quite well. The pressure he was emitting nearly equaled that of a Peak SS Ranker, My Lady"

"Hehe! Academy would be interesting this year around," the girl concluded, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

"But why was he speaking like that?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

Maelis had no answer to that.