“If this is what you wish for, then come, child,” the [Sage] said in an unbothered tone, taking another step forward. “Defy me.”

  Aiden stared at the [Sage]. Regressor or not, granted the secrets of the universe or not, he was not one to allow his hubris to kill him. When faced with a fight against a [Sage], there was only one answer.

  His hands came up and he weaved a sign as quickly as he could.

  [You have used class skill Enchanted Weave]

  …

  [You have used Weave of Lesser Speed]

  [Effect: 40% increase in movement speed.]

  [Duration: 00:08:10.]

  As energy coursed through him, the only way to win a fight against a [Sage] filled Aiden’s head.

  Run.

  Aiden had used his skills enough times since his arm had grown blackened to know that it was best to focus on ignoring the arm whenever he used the skill. What it had taught him was that on default, the maximum effect of all his weavings had increased. However, if he thought of the hand, things changed. For instance, [Weave of Lesser Speed] became [Weave of Lesser Void Speed]. And along with the very nature of the weave changing and the doubled effect, it drew too much mana from him.

  With all the mana coursing through his veins, Aiden turned, and fled.

  Before he crossed any significant distance, however, the wall ahead of him shot forward, sealing his path off and terminating his exit.

  Aiden ran into it intentionally, rolling along its length to the side in case the [Sage] had fired a follow-up attack at him. When he felt the wall shudder, he knew he had just survived an attack.

  He pushed off the wall as he noticed sparks of electricity crackling through it.

  Aiden did not turn to look at the [Sage]. Instead, he slammed a hand into the wall on the side of the hallway, carved a quick sign onto it and was gone from it as quickly as he’d been upon it.

  Turning, he ran straight for the [Sage] as his interface lit up in front of him.

  [You have used Class skill Unarmed Engrave]

  …

  [You have activated Enchantment of Lesser Gas]

  [Effect: Explosion of combustible gas]

  [Radius: 0.003048km.]

  The engraving glowed a soft blue with hints of black, then exploded in a gas of black smoke that engulfed Aiden as it blasted past him to envelope the entire space.

  Aiden was already working as he charged forward, fingers intertwining, weaving.

  [You have used skill Enchanted Weave]

  …

  [You have used Weave of Lesser Perception]

  [Effect: 50% increase in sensory precision.]

  [Duration: 00:05:10.]

  Aiden felt his senses sharpen. He saw outlines in the darkness the smoke had drowned him in. He heard the gas as it moved around him. But he sensed nothing of the [Sage].

  He wondered if the [Sage] had used a stealth skill. He couldn’t even begin to fathom just how powerful any of the [Sage’s] skills would be.

  In Aiden’s strategy, the gas would conceal him from his opponent’s view and limit the number of spells they would be willing to use.

  But that would only work against an enemy that was not a [Sage]. So, for the sake of safety, he weaved another sign.

  [You have used skill Enchanted Weave]

  …

  [You have used Weave of Lesser Resistance]

  [Effect: 50% increase in fire resistance.]

  [Duration: 00:03:10.]

  Focusing on his memory, Aiden picked out where the table in the hallway had been a moment ago. His senses lit up in warning while he realized where it had been and Aiden ducked into a roll.

  Something blasted through the smoke where he had been only a moment ago and exploded against the wall that still sealed off his exit. It left a perfect trail of untainted air from the wall to the [Sage].

  I’ll need to get rid of that wall if I want to escape, Aiden thought as he popped back to his feet, snatching the flower vase from the table. Please be the kind of vase that doesn’t have water in it.

  Judging from the weight of the vase, he felt like he was in luck. Please be stones.

  “Tell me that you have a fire resistance enchantment active,” the [Sage] said casually.

  Aiden smiled in self-deprecation at his strategy being called out so easily.

  “And if I don’t?” He ripped the flower from the vase and smashed the vase into the ground. The sound of the vase shattering filled the air and Aiden almost missed the [Sage’s] next words if not for his heightened perception.

  “If you do not,” the [Sage] said as Aiden’s heart lifted when his hand touched pebbles beneath the shards of the broken vase. “Then this is going to hurt a lot.”

  Fuck, Aiden swore. The pebbles were too small for what he wanted to use them for. I just had to pick this as the one time to not wear my soldier’s belt.

  He frowned.

  Wait! What did he say?

  Down the path in the smoke that the [Sage] had created with whatever attack he’d fired at Aiden, Aiden saw a touch of orange light. With heightened senses, he felt the spark of heat before it even erupted.

  Shit!

  His hands abandoned the broken vase and pebbles and weaved an immediate sign. Aiden focused on his blackened arm as he activated the new weaving and hoped it would work.

  [You have used Class skill Walking Canvas]

  …

  [You have used class skill Enchanted Weave]

  …

  [You have used Weave of Lesser Breeze]

  [Effect: A gust of air.]

  A sensation went through his blackened arm, as if he was being given an injection through his veins.

  Another notification lit up.

  [Trait Spatial Crack in effect]

  …

  [Weave of Lesser Breeze is now Weave of Lesser Void Wind]

  With [Walking Canvas] active, a violent gust of wind erupted around him as the black smoke that filled the hallway erupted in a rage of fiery explosion.

  Aiden closed his eyes to the bright light of the explosion and grabbed a handful of the broken vase, ignoring the pebbles scattered across the ground. With the heat affecting him while the gust of wind saved him from the effects of the flame, Aiden rolled away from where he was.

  His [Weave of Lesser Resistance] had played a part in preserving him.

  Aiden came to a stop against the other wall on the side of the hallway, panting at the thought of how quickly he’d almost lost his life.

  He’s a madman, he thought, eyes focused on the undaunted [Sage].

  Yes, his strategy was designed to prevent the use of any flammable attack by his opponent in order to avoid burning themselves, but with the [Sage] Aiden had actually been gambling on the man not actually wanting to kill him.

  It was as if the [Sage] had been willing to risk his death. As if he’s either sure I won’t be the [Hero] or simply doesn’t care.

  With the entire gas gone up in flames, the hallway was clear once more, except for the blackened walls and floor and ceiling. The table was still burning in the moment and the mirror above it was cracked so badly that Aiden couldn’t make out any useful view with it.

  The [Sage] tilted his head to the side as if impressed. “Fire resistance, and a gust of wind enchantment. At nineteen? I’m impressed.” His eyes narrowed slowly in thought. “And at the last second. You’ve gotten faster with your weaving, [Weaver]. Or is it the arm?”

  Aiden was still panting. “Will you let me go if I say it’s the arm?”

  The [Sage] sighed and raised his arm, hand held out to Aiden. “You play too much.”

  Aiden’s finger drew an engraving on one of the pieces of broken vase, and he tossed it at the [Sage’s] raised hand.

  [You have used skill Unarmed Engrave]

  …

  [You have activated Enchantment of Lesser Madness].

  [Effect: 20% disruption of ambient mana.]

  [Duration: 00:00:08.]

  [Radius: 0.002km.]

  The [Sage’s] gaze sharpened on the piece of the vase and he smiled as it slammed into his hand and shattered violently.

  Aiden watched the enchantment explode in a translucent dome as it took effect. If the [Sage] was affected in any way, he didn’t show it. Instead, he held out his open hand then made a fist.

  Lesser men would’ve lost their minds. But a [Sage] was not a lesser man. Instead of being affected, the entire translucent dome was sucked into his open hand. And just like that, it was gone.

  “An [Enchantment of lesser Madness],” the [Sage] mused. “You fight as if you’ve faced a [Mage] before. Was one of the poachers you killed a [Mage]?”

  Aiden had engraved four shards of the broken vase currently in his hands and had four unengraved pieces. With how carelessly he was holding them, in a world without classes, he would be sporting a good number of cuts on his palm.

  “Will you let me go if I answer?” he asked the [Sage], knowing the answer.

  “Not even surprised by what I’ve done,” the [Sage] mused in response. “You are as intriguing as he probably thinks.”

  The king? Valdan? Aiden had no idea who he was supposed to be.

  None of it mattered. All that mattered right now was escaping.

  Please work properly, Aiden pleaded as he channeled mana into three of the engraved shards he had.

  Then he threw them at the wall behind him.

  To his surprise, the [Sage] did nothing, simply watched.

  All three engraved shards slammed into the wall, breaking on impact. With their destruction came three notifications.

  [You have activated Enchantment of Lesser Flames]

  …

  [You have activated Enchantment of Lesser Force]

  …

  [You have activated Enchantment of Lesser Gas]

  Together, all three shards exploded against the wall in a ball of fire. The air shook and Aiden felt the heat against the nape of his neck. The walls shook and trembled.

  The [Sage] watched, curious.

  And Aiden activated another skill.

  [You have used Unique skill Pathfinder]

  He didn’t have to look back to know that his strategy had failed. The skill told him when he watched a line of what looked like breeze guide him in the direction of the [Sage].

  It told Aiden two things. The first was that the wall was not an ordinary wall because an ordinary wall would’ve shattered from the impact of what he’d done. The second was something else entirely.

  Time for plan B.

  “You are resourceful,” the [Sage] said. “Throwing enchantments about like a veteran [Enchanter]. Sadly, it is not enough.”

  A circle with geometric symbols within it as large as Aiden’s torso appeared in front of the [Sage]. The man had done nothing to indicate its arrival. There had been no gesture, no hand movement. If he had been holding a staff, Aiden could’ve said that the spell had been stored in the staff.

  Formless spellcasting, Aiden thought in terrified awe. The realm of level three hundred [Mages].

  And even then, they didn’t do it so casually. The [Sage] had done it while casually talking about something else.

  “You should pay attention,” the [Sage] said. “This spell is a time spell. Its job is to reset the time of whatever it is applied on.”

  Aiden recognized nothing of the spell’s construction. The [Sage] could be lying and he would not be able to tell.

  I just have to be careful, then. Aiden carved an enchantment onto another shard of the broken vase as he began putting his new plan into effect.

  This plan was trickier than the others. It was also a gamble.

  “You do not seem bothered,” the [Sage] said, curious.

  Aiden couldn’t say that he was. Spells like the one the [Sage] had just used were stationary. A spell cast in place remained in the position it was cast. Its effects, however, were what crossed boundaries.

  All the [Sage] had done was cancel out a part of the hallway—a small part at that. As long as Aiden didn’t venture in its direction, he would be fine.

  “You read a lot,” the [Sage] said suddenly. “You lied about the library a few times, but you do actually read quite often.”

  Aiden nodded, clasping his hands behind him. He was done with the enchantment on the shard, now he needed to draw the exact same enchantment on his palm. Normally, lower than level fifty, it wasn’t supposed to work, but the trait [Spatial Crack] was proving that it could help him cheat. And the simple fact that his mind had been able to conjure up the runes and sigils for the enchantment long enough for him to actually engrave it was giving him hope.

  “I do hope that—”

  Aiden interrupted the [Sage’s] words. He channeled mana into the shard he’d just enchanted, and with all the force that he could muster, he flung it past the [Sage] far into the hallway and straight down the path the line of wind from the skill [Pathfinder] was showing him.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  [You have used class skill Unarmed Engrave]

  …

  [You have used Enchantment of Lesser Blink]

  [Effect: teleportation across short distances]

  [Radius: 0.0061km]

  In the distance the engraving on the shard glowed a soft purple and the same glow erupted from the palm of his hand.

  Even though he knew that he shouldn’t have, Aiden failed to stop the smile that touched his lips as he blinked out of existence.

  The world vanished around him for the briefest moment, reappearing as quickly as a man blinking.

  When Aiden’s sight returned it was to the sight of the enchanted shard shattering in front of him in a purple glow and the [Sage] a good distance behind him. The line of wind from [Pathfinder] extended forward, taking a turn down the hallway to the left.

  Without bothering to look back, Aiden took off in the direction of the path.

  The air stilled around him as he ran, then a sudden sensation engulfed him.

  Aiden froze.

  “It seems like you do possess some level of external mana sensitivity,” the [Sage’s] voice echoed from behind him.

  Aiden didn’t dare move, not yet.

  “As I was saying,” the [Sage] continued. “You seem to have read and learnt a lot about how our world functions since you arrived, and I commend that. So, let me show you something new, something that most books will not be able to. You can feel it, can’t you.”

  Aiden could feel it. The mana crawling up his neck as it permeated the entire space. He could die if he was not careful now.

  I can’t win.

  In front of him, his interface told him what he already knew.

  [You have entered a Manifested World of Lvl ???]

  [?????? has spared you from effects of Manifested World ???? ?????]

  “Dispense of your fears, child,” the [Sage] told him. “Whatever your interface is telling you, I assure you that no harm will come to you from it. This is simply my way of keeping you here.”

  A [Sage’s] Manifesting World.

  Aiden had never thought he would ever get to experience one. This was the pinnacle of the level fifty Manifesting Skill: The Manifesting World.

  This was what everyone fought to achieve.

  Turning around, he found that nothing had changed in the space around them. They were still in the hallway. The mirror was still broken, and the walls and ceiling and floor were still charred. The table had stopped burning and was nothing but a crumbled mess on the floor. On the other side of the hallway, the wall still stretched out to seal of exit on that side.

  Aiden had only seen a handful of fully implemented Manifesting Worlds, and they completely warped space, affecting everything around it. But for the [Sage’s] to do nothing while the system still recognized it as a Manifesting World, was a show of control the likes of which Aiden had never seen.

  The [Sage] had applied the mana but left out the effects.

  His mana is what terrified me. Aiden could not believe his own realization. I was scared from simply sensing his mana.

  It annoyed him and appalled him. Still, his anger did not drive him to stupidity. Slowly, he turned around to face the [Sage].

  The man stood casually with his hands behind his back like a cocky teacher. He watched Aiden, not worried about the open space left to Aiden. He knew that Aiden would not run. He would not be able to.

  “I have tested your ability to escape,” the [Sage] said. “And while there are things that you could improve upon, I must say that you have passed spectacularly. So, now, I will test your survivability. You will not understand the gravity of what I am about to show you, but perhaps that is to your favor, right now.”

  Aiden had no idea what the [Sage] was about to do but he prepared himself. Right now, his life was in far more danger than whatever Valdan was about to go through.

  You need to be alive to save him.

  “Good, you’re prepared,” the [Sage] said. “Now, defend yourself.”

  Then the wildest thing happened.

  The spell construct he claimed was a time spell, the geometric circle itself, started moving.

  …

  The amphitheater was as large as Valdan remembered it. It could hold two cavalcades fairly easily.

  He stood at its center, hands clasped behind his back and the sword he’d gained as a [Knight of the Crown] at his hips. He did not wear his armor. Instead, he was clad in casual clothes, a simple black trouser with a brown cotton shirt. The shirt had a slit that ran maybe three inches down the middle from its collar. A lattice work of threads held the slit loosely together.

  It had been a while since he’d come here. In fact, he’d only been here once. And while this place was nothing but a grand fighting ground for most of those who bore the title of [Knight of the Crown], it held a ceremonial place in his heart.

  It was the place he was knighted as a [Knight of the Crown]. It was the place where he had earned his title.

  It was oddly ironic.

  And it’s the place where I’ll lose it.

  It was as ironic as it was poetic.

  Valdan turned his head, looked around. Taking the entire space in, he let out a tired breath.

  The ground of the amphitheater where he stood was covered in sand as black as night. From what Valdan knew, this was the only place in the kingdom that had black sand. Around him, he was encircled by an array of rising chairs, enough to hold at least two hundred spectators, and five hundred spectators at most.

  It looked like a place designed for spectators to clamor and rage while they watched people bring violence upon themselves on the very grounds he stood. It was funny because while there had been no crowd, the king and a few of his knights had stood there and watched while Valdan had run a gauntlet on those who bore the title of [Knight of the Crown] before him.

  Each one had tested his skill only there was no skill they wished to test before the next had walked in to test him again.

  At the end of his test, he had been exhausted.

  At the end of this one, I might be dead.

  There were only two routes that led to the amphitheater from the palace. Each one wound downwards until you were left standing in front of a door at the lowest grounds of the palace, at the very bottom.

  One of these paths was used only by the [Knights of the Crown] while the other was used only by the royal family.

  Once inside, there was an entrance into the theater grounds and an exit. Both paths stood before and behind Valdan respectively.

  Standing silently Valdan’s gaze sharpened as someone walked in through the path in front of him.

  King Brandis had arrived.

  Unsurprisingly, he was not alone. Like Valdan, he was not dressed ceremonially. There was no robe to rest from his shoulder and trail the ground beneath him. There was no crown of the finest gold to adorn his head. He wore no armor that glistened under the illumination of the light orbs that floated at the top of the amphitheater to grant light with which to see.

  No. King Brandis of the Bandiv kingdom, Fourth of his name, wore a simple white cotton shirt and brown leather pants.

  Valdan watched him approach, knowing very well that his pants were not made from cotton or any regular material. It had most likely been fashioned by some high-level tailor who had already attained their manifesting class and was at least well beyond level fifty.

  Probably strewn from some the bark of some legendary tree.

  It was the thing about anyone who had spent enough time around the king. While he owned casual clothes that looked completely normal, they were anything but normal. His simple clothes were as powerful and domineering as the crown of the kingdom.

  As Valdan watched King Brandis approach, he was reminded of something his seniors had told him once about the king. Even clad in the simplest of clothing, Brandis had a way to him, an air to him.

  He walked as a king should, with grace and control and decorum. Even when he was tired, he looked like a tired warrior. A ruler of men. Sometimes, they said, he walked even in a place as simple as a garden like a man with an army behind him.

  Valdan had seen it enough times to believe it. But this evening, his king did not walk in that manner. This evening, King Brandis walked like a man who did not want to do what he was about to do but would do it because it was something that had to be done. It was something that someone had to do.

  So Valdan stood where he was and waited for his king… waited for what would befall him. He did not wait long.

  King Brandis’ steps came to a stop in front of him and Valdan studied his face. A realization dawned on him when he did.

  He’s tired, Valdan noted.

  King Brandis’ eyes weren’t as bright, and his shoulders weren’t as broad. If the others saw him right now, they would be as worried for him as Valdan was.

  And yet, here he is.

  “Sir Valdan Dirtwater,” King Brandis said, standing before him.

  Valdan bent his head into a bow, greeting the king and his companion. “My King. Princess.”

  Elaswit nodded hesitantly, clearly confused as to what was happening.

  Brandis received the greeting with a nod of his own. “Here we are,” he said. “Where it all began.”

  Valdan said nothing. All he did was keep his head low.

  Yes, here we are.

  “I’ve never been one for politics,” Brandis went on. “No matter how hard I tried, I could never get the hang of manipulating people. It just wasn’t in my—for the love of—” Brandis groaned in frustration. “Can you please raise your head, Sir Valdan. I’m not a fan of talking to people who aren’t looking at me.”

  Valdan obeyed, raising his head. He found Brandis looking at him. Even with tired and weary eyes, the king’s amber gaze had not lost its weight.

  There had always been something about it. People were born with simple eyes that grew to become piercing over the years. But piercing was an understatement of Brandis’. There was something about the way his eyes settled on a person. He didn’t just look at you, and he didn’t just see into your soul.

  Valdan watched King Brandis’ gaze focus on him. The king watched him as if he was reading his life. As if he knew it all. As if he read it all. Valdan’s love for Melvet. The knight that had died in his hands when he’d been only fifteen that nobody knew of. The secret that had solidified his determination to become a knight—a secret that currently rested in a chest well hidden in the study in his estate. The man who visited Valdan’s estate every now and again to eat him out of house and home. His loyalty, shaken from his time spent with Aiden Lacheart.

  Brandis knew none of these, but his eyes gave the illusion of it. His eyes claimed that he knew it all and allowed it all.

  To Valdan, those were the eyes of a king.

  Brandis sighed as if tired of whatever he’d seen and cast his gaze to the empty audience around them. He did it like a tired man, like a man with too much on his mind.

  After a while, he turned bodily to take in the entire Amphitheatre.

  “I never wanted to be king,” he said, speaking once more. “Always hated the crown. I saw the things my father had to do in its name and didn’t want that life for myself. I didn’t want the weight of the crown. The funny part about it is that it wasn’t even my weight to bear.” He shook his head solemnly. “A [Knight of the Crown] free to wander the world. Now, that is weight I could’ve borne. By the gods, my brother stiffed me on this one.”

  Valdan knew what the king was talking about. There was no [Knight of the Crown] that did not know of King Brandis’ older brother.

  Naturally, he had been the one to take the crown, but as the time drew closer, he had shown more distaste in the crown. He didn’t hate the idea of becoming the king, he simply didn’t want it. So, for peace to reign, Brandis had taken the crown from his father when he had been offered it.

  Both brothers were equally capable, after all.

  Then, at his brother’s request, Brandis had given him the title of [Knight of the Crown]. With the title adorning his interface, his brother had happily strolled out of the castle gates. At least that’s what the stories said. He had thrown a sack of clothes over his shoulders, and with nothing but the simple clothes on his back and his sword on his hips, he had strolled out of the castle walls.

  At the end of every year, the brother strolled back into the city, had a simple meal with his brother and his family, then disappeared again. Once upon a time, Valdan had asked why the brother stayed for only one meal, impromptu and abrupt. The answer he’d been given from the oldest [Knight of the Crown] was simple.

  “He calls it a proof of life,” the old knight had said. “He enjoys being out there more than being in here, so he stops by every year just so that our king knows that he is still alive.”

  The king’s brother had not stopped by for the last four years now. And it had everyone worried. King Brandis and his wife, however, never showed it.

  “Sometimes,” King Brandis said, “I want to punch him in the face, just for the fun of it.”

  A chuckle slipped out from his lips and he paused as if surprised by it.

  Valdan felt bad. The King had his own issues, enough that an accidental chuckle surprised him. And all Valdan had done was cause him more worry.

  This is a chance to fight for your title, he reminded himself, but his guilt grew heavy. But is it a chance you deserve? Is it a title you are still worthy of?

  Brandis shook his head slowly, sad eyes leveled on Valdan.

  “Was I wrong?” he asked. “Did I make the wrong decision in allowing you train the young Lord?”

  Elaswit bristled at his question.

  Valdan, however, had no reaction from it. He’d always had the answer to such a question. It was an answer he’d learnt many years ago when he’d been angry at the king for the childhood he had lived. A time when the king had not even known his name.

  “What concern is a king with right and wrong?” he said easily. “His duty is only to rule, and rule he must.”

  A slight smile touched Brandis’ lips. This time, it did not surprise him. However, the fondness in it slowly aged and withered until it was gone. All that was left was a sad smile.

  “Isn’t that something grandpa once said?” Elaswit said suddenly. “At least I think it was something like that.”

  Brandis nodded slowly. “‘What concerns a king with right and wrong?’” he said, as if reciting a mantra. “‘A king’s place is to rule. And rule, he must.’”

  Elaswit looked at Valdan as if suddenly seeing him in a new light. Valdan would’ve smiled if not for the circumstances that surrounded their current situation. There was, unfortunately, nothing to smile about.

  “Witty, love,” Brandis said in a fond voice.

  “Yes, father,” Elaswit answered.

  “Every human must strive to be the perfect version of what a person should be,” Brandis told her. “They must know right from wrong and have the will to do right no matter the situation. Only a person who has perfected this to a great degree has the right to lead.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Brandis took his eyes from Valdan to look at his daughter. “Only a person that understands the necessity of right and wrong and knows how to wield them properly can lead. Your grandfather told your brother, Derenet, about the king’s duty to rule when Derenet witnessed him make a decision that he did not like as a child. When Derenet had told him that it was the wrong decision, your grandfather had asked him what concerns a king with right and wrong.”

  “So that’s when he said it?” Elaswit asked.

  Brandis nodded. “But he did not explain it to your brother. But your uncle and I were always taught its entirety. Become a person who understands and masters the concept of right and wrong, then you can become a king. Only then does the concept no longer apply to you.”

  Elaswit nodded in understanding, but it was clear in her eyes that she did not believe she would need this knowledge.

  Anyone present would understand why she felt that way. There was no one who was a part of any form of political intrigue in the kingdom that did not know that Elaswit was more like her uncle in situations regarding the crown; she didn’t want it.

  Still, she was her father’s daughter. Like her father, if her siblings did not want it, she would pick up the crown for the sake of peace and keeping the leadership of Bandiv in the Brandis family.

  Valdan knew that she would not have to, though. Derenet wanted the crown, craved it. He wasn’t a terrible option; his parents had obviously raised him well enough. Unfortunately, people feared that his hunger for the crown might lead him to do things he would not want to. People feared that should Elaswit want the crown, there might be a problem.

  Brandis sighed and returned his attention to Valdan. However, he had a look in his eyes now, a suspicion. It remained there even as he spoke, a backdrop to everything else.

  “Let us get this over with, Sir Valdan.”

  Valdan closed his eyes as he took in the king’s voice. It savored the title as best he could, breathed it in, before nodding.

  This will probably be the last time my king calls me ‘sir’.

  “First,” Brandis said. “You will not be fighting against monsters.”

  “Sir Valdan is here to fight?” Elaswit asked, surprised.

  So, she did not know.

  King Brandis hushed his daughter with a raised hand while his attention remained on Valdan and Elaswit held her tongue.

  “You will be fighting your fellow men,” he said, his use of the plural form not escaping Valdan. “You will face them, each of them of equal level as you, and they will do everything in their power to kill you.”

  “Fa—”

  Brandis shot his daughter a dark look. “If you cannot hold your tongue, perhaps I should send you back. This is neither the place nor time to lack control of your own emotions. Neither is it the place or time to challenge my decisions.”

  Elaswit’s pressed into a thin line. It showed her obedience but her disagreement. If it bothered Brandis, he did not show it. He had demanded silence, and he was having it.

  “If it is the wish of my king,” Valdan said. “Then so shall it be.”

  Brandis chuckled darkly. “Oh, Valdan. Ever the knight. It is quite unfortunate that it has come to this. However, I know you.” He stepped closer, oddly menacing. “You are loyal to a fault. It is why I cannot understand the disloyalty.”

  Shock plastered itself on Elaswit’s face at the notion of disloyalty. Her mouth opened, but she clamped it back shut.

  Valdan did not look away from King Brandis’ gaze. He was guilty of his crimes. His duty was to take his punishment.

  If my king wishes for me to die here, then here I shall die.

  He could only hope that when the news reached Lord Lacheart, he would handle it well. The boy was most likely going to rebel in some way. Valdan suspected it. Maybe even hoped for it.

  Why? He wondered. Why would you hope for him to rebel?

  The answer came to him almost immediately. He didn’t want Aiden to rebel. He didn’t think it would be wise or good for both the boy or the kingdom. But the idea of his death leading Aiden to do something unreasonable meant that his death would affect Aiden enough for him to lose his composure.

  It would mean that in even the littlest way, your friendship mattered to him.

  A small smile touched Valdan’s lips at the thought. It was gentle, fond. It was the smile of a man who would miss his younger brother.

  I’ve always wanted to know what it would feel like to have a brother.

  King Brandis’ gaze softened a little as his eyes took notice of Valdan’s smile.

  “Yes,” Brandis said. “A man should smile even in the face of death.”

  Valdan moved to attention. “It was an honor to be led by you, my king.”

  “It is good to know that you still hold some loyalty.” A dark smile stretched Brandis’ lips. “However, you do not find yourself in a predicament this easy. The men present will seek to kill you, and if they find the chance, they will. But you misunderstand, Valdan. I haven’t brought you here to die. It is not something so simple. I have brought you here to be an executioner.” He held his arms out on both sides. “Blood will be shed on these grounds, Valdan. It is my hope that yours is not the only one.”

  Valdan nodded slowly. He had been given his orders and he had received them.

  Do not die alone.

  Then King Brandis did the unexpected. He placed a firm hand on Valdan’s shoulder and spoke once more in a soft voice.

  “Do not die today, Valdan. Do not die, if you can help it.”

  Brandis dropped his hand, turned, and walked away. Elaswit hesitated before turning as well. A sad look clouded her face and Valdan gave her a reassuring smile.

  Elaswit and her father were almost at the exit when Valdan stopped their departure.

  “My king,” he called.

  Brandis stopped to look back at him. “Valdan?”

  “May I make two requests?” he asked. “In case I do not make it out alive.”

  “You will not lose your estate,” King Brandis said, attempting to preempt his request. “And she will be cared for until the day of her passing.”

  Valdan bowed his head gently in gratitude. “Thank you, my king. But that is not my request.”

  Melvet was a resourceful woman, Valdan knew this. Should she be sent packing from the estate, he knew that she would be fine. His death would hurt her, but he hoped that it would not break her.

  “Then what are your requests?” Brandis asked.

  “May I ask that she be informed of my passing and allowed to do as she pleases with what is left of me?” he asked.

  Brandis considered it for a moment before answering. “Granted. And the second request?”

  “This may be insulting of me, but dare I make the request.” He took a knee and bowed his head. “Please be kind enough as to bring the news to her in person.”

  Brandis’ gaze narrowed slowly. Suspicion bled from it. “Is there something you wish to tell me upon your death, Valdan? If so, tell me now.”

  Valdan shook his head, knowing that he lied. “Simply a request from a man who once bore the title of [Knight of the Crown].”

  Brandis frowned. “I will take the second into consideration.”

  With that, he turned and left the space, Elaswit moved with him. In moments, Valdan was left standing alone once more.

  He dug a foot into the black sand beneath him. This was the only place he’d seen in the entire Bandiv kingdom with black sand. Rumor had it that the only time King Brandis’ brother had stayed for more than just one meal, it was to have a spar with the king.

  They had done it here. And sand that had once been yellow had grown black at the end of their battle.

  Valdan had not witnessed it, and even to this day, those who had claimed they did not know what specifically had turned the sand black.

  It was a while before something changed. A while of Valdan standing with nothing but his thoughts. Most of his thoughts were of Melvet and the secrets of his life. Of a woman. Of a man. Of a corpse. Of a sword.

  Valdan had wanted for nothing but the title of [Knight]. Apart from that, all he’d ever wanted was a simple life. Sadly, complications had always chased after him. He bore the title of [Giant Slayer], gaining it in a way that he would’ve rather not.

  A complicated life you have lived, simple man.

  It was something Melvet had told him once upon a time.

  Now, here he was, a simple man in a complicated world.

  Truer words have not been said.

  “Sir Valdan Dirtwater.” The king’s voice echoed through the amphitheater. “Meet your opponents.”

  Valdan drew his sword as he sensed movement from the path the king had left through. One by one, people flooded out of it.

  He recognized each and every one of them. Men and women. He knew them even by name. Six of the nine of them he had played a part in their defeat and imprisonment once before.

  A deep scowl filled Valdan’s lips at the sight of them and he realized what the king was doing. King Brandis had ensured that Valdan would claw tooth and nail to defeat them.

  “I have promised every soul on that ground a chance at freedom,” Brandis’ voice echoed. “You are to be their executioner. Or their redemption. If they walk out of here alive, they become free men or women, forgiven for their crimes.”

  Valdan could not believe his eyes. Each of them was armed with a weapon that Valdan knew was their specialty. Swords, clubs, daggers, knives, glaives. Each enemy was armed properly.

  King Brandis had placed the worst of criminals before him. Men and women who, amongst their other crimes, had taken so many human lives and not even for the purpose of increasing their level.

  Valdan’s gaze settled on a small man that was a head shorter than him. He had a scar running diagonally across his face. Valdan had given him that scar only three months ago.

  His name was Taract, and his crime was the slaughter of an entire village. The highest level in the village had been level twelve. And he had killed them all, men, women. And the children, too.

  None of the people in front of him had any right being let back out into the world.

  Valdan’s grip tightened on his sword. King Brandis was going too far with this. He wanted to say so, he wanted to let his king know.

  This was wrong.

  But what concerns a king with right and wrong? His place is to rule, and rule, he must.

  “Valdan Dirtwater.”

  Brandis’ voice touched his ear so precisely that when Valdan turned, he picked him from the empty stands without searching.

  And the king gave him what could most likely be his final order.

  “Kill them all.”

  It was a good thing that his enemies were human. If things got too bad, he at least had the pseudo techniques that he had learnt from Aiden.

  He gave his king his answer. Taking his sword in both hands, he took a combat stance and settled his attention on Taract, the man who’d slaughtered an entire village.

  “Yes, my King.”