Sir Janus burst into the pavilion. He had ditched his elegant black Imperial Knight suit for his old grease-stained beige fencing uniform. His beard, previously neatly trimmed, now resembled its usual bird-nest unkempt style, hiding the gruesome scar on his neck. The tournament aides tried to intercept him, but Sir Janus bulldozed through them like a buffalo charging across a cornfield.
“Move aside. I’m a damn Imperial Knight,” Janus grunted as another pair of aides moved to cut him out. He, indeed, didn’t look like an Imperial Knight. In fact, he seemed pretty much intoxicated.
Sir Janus effortlessly knocked over an empty bench as he stumbled through the pavilion. Even the Master of Ceremonies lost track of his words and turned around to see what was causing the commotion. I assumed Sir Janus was searching for Captain Kiln, but to my surprise, he approached me. Meanwhile, the Master of Ceremonies called the final fight—Firana versus Belya Nara, the daughter of Lord Nara.
Firana sprung to her feet and walked to the weapons rack.
“We need to talk, Scholar,” Sir Janus mumbled, putting his heavy hand over my shoulder before I could follow Firana. He was totally intoxicated.
Considering Firana’s confidence was through the roof and the fact we had already secured a victory in the bracket regardless of the outcome, I guessed she wouldn’t miss the last-minute pep-talk.
“I have a moment,” I replied, then asked Ilya to check on Firana in my place. With a nod, Ilya approached the weapons rack, but Firana signaled her to return to the bench. Despite Firana’s gesture, Ilya wrapped her arm around Firana’s neck and whispered a few words in her ear.
I wondered if it was a threat or advice. I hoped it was the latter.
“Come with me,” Janus slurred, guiding me outside the pavilion under the noble teams' glances.
We walked around the Great Hall, passing through a dim corridor into a small cobbled yard where the guardsmen exercised away from prying eyes. Janus looked around, making sure we were alone. Suddenly, any signs of intoxication vanished from his face. I couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t brought Captain Kiln along with us. If this impromptu meeting was due to the last attack on the orphanage, I expected her to be present.
“What’s the matter? I should be in the arena overseeing my team,” I said.
“Did you know Darius Holst has a Silence Hex?” Sir Janus whispered.
The question caught me off guard. The only people who knew about the Hex were Elincia, Captain Kiln, and me. I hadn’t expected Holst to be flaunting the mark around. I examined our surroundings. We were alone, and even the roaring sound of the crowd had vanished.
“I saw the hex engraved in his flesh,” I replied, but before I could ask any questions in return, Janus continued with his interrogation.
“Did you tell Izabeka about it?” Sir Janus’ tone became more urgent by the second.
“Of course I did. Don’t you find it alarming? There is someone out there who wants me dead. Captain Kiln might be the orphanage’s only real lifeline,” I replied.
Sir Janus stroked his beard as he walked from side to side in the corridor.
“Do you trust high-borns, Robert?”
For a moment, I was unsure what to answer. I trusted nobles just enough to take their word at face value. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have negotiated our place in the tournament with the Marquis and Prince Adrien.
“Captain Kiln wouldn’t betray us,” I cautiously replied. I couldn’t say the same of the Prince or the Marquis with complete certainty.
Sir Janus nodded as if he vaguely agreed. His questions, however, were starting to make me nervous.
“Izabeka might be one of the few nobles with a little bit of honor left, but she is loyal to the marquisate,” Janus said in a hushed voice. He glanced around once more before continuing. “I need your help, Robert. I think you and I might be standing on a snare.”
I shook my head, puzzled by Janus’ words. The orphanage enjoyed the royal family's support, and the Marquis had even offered me a title if I won the tournament. We even had Risha and Astrid back at the manor protecting the kids. The orphanage couldn’t be in a better position.
Did all this have to do with the last attack on the orphanage? At first glance, the operation didn’t seem orchestrated by someone closely connected to the high ranks of the nobility; the attackers were too weak and too sloppy. Even the Marquis had access to several level 40 warriors within the Guard and the Sentinels, and he was a low-ranking noble in the grand scheme of the kingdom.
“What does Holst’s Silence Hex have to do with anything?” I asked, trying to unravel Janus’ words.
He shook his head, disappointed.
“Come on, Scholar, use your brain. Silence Hex is a high-level spell. Historically, nobles have used it after ordering their subordinates to commit unlawful acts, to clean their tracks,” Janus explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I think the Marquis put the Silence Hex on Holst. Izabeka isn’t stupid; she will connect the dots and realize that whatever Holst did, the Marquis ordered it.”
An indirect order. The Marquis couldn’t tell Captain Kiln that he had ordered Holst to attack the orphanage, but she could deduce it via the Silence Hex. For better or worse, loyalty was Captain Kiln's most important trait, and her allegiance to the marquisate went further back than her friendship with the orphanage. The Kiln, Holst, and Abei families had roots in Farcrest since its foundation. It wasn’t just blood that bound the families; it was history itself.
“Why are you telling me this now? Do you think Captain Kiln is going to betray us?” I asked.
“I don’t think Captain Kiln would betray us. I think we are stepping on a trap, and if she realized it, she might be too loyal to warn us,” Janus said.
His words weighed on my shoulders.
“Listen, Scholar. We are in the eye of the storm, but no matter what happens with the Farlands campaign or the new trade routes, nobles will still have to deal with each other. We, the lowly commoners, are expendable.”
A tale as old as history.
Suddenly, Janus surrounded himself with black mana and disappeared. Shadow Step. I looked around, but he was nowhere to be found.
“I’m good at sneaking into places, hearing things. It has helped me navigate nobility affairs since I got my Advanced Class,” Janus said, standing a few meters behind me. “I believe Kellaren Odrac-Aias has been working with the Marquis all this time. The Aias family has been a vassal to the Marquis of Farcrest for three generations, and I don’t see Tauron letting that bond disappear. Too much wasted military power. If Kellaren proves to be a better investment than we are, our position in Farcrest hangs by a thread.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“But Kellaren is working with Lord Osgiria,” I pointed out.
“And what makes you think the Marquis isn’t playing both sides?” Janus interrupted me. “If the Farlands campaign succeeds and a path into the Kingdom of Tagabiria opens, new commercial routes will appear. Farcrest will be the most important city in the kingdom, but it can be more. The Marquis could be happy and benefit from tariffs… or he could assemble his own routes. And who is the most capable person to establish those routes?”
“Lord Osgiria,” I muttered. The man had the knowledge, the contacts, and the supplies to establish and monopolize the new trade routes. The Osgirians had already done that once by controlling the southern frontier.
Janus’ suspicions made sense. Even Captain Kiln admitted that a Silence Hex was a high-level spell, but at the same time, its mere presence was a powerful indicator that someone wanted to keep a secret. Captain Kiln’s assurance that the Marquis wasn’t a tyrant but a pragmatic person seemed weaker now. I had been inclined to believe Kellaren was behind all the incidents the orphanage had suffered, but Captain Kiln might not have been aware of his relationship with the Marquis.
“I’m still not sure the Marquis is working with the Osgirians. That would be high treason against the royalist faction,” I said.
Other than a vague plausibility, Janus’ theory had many holes.
“The last attack on the orphanage didn’t make sense,” I added. The Marquis was gaining popularity with the royalist faction because of me and the orphanage. Even now, we are beating Team Nara into the ground. So far, Prince Adrien seemed satisfied with my performance, which reflects well on the Marquis. Why would the Marquis risk all he had already accomplished with the royal faction?
Janus nodded. “It didn’t make sense until I found the missing link. Firana,” he said, lowering his voice.
A shiver ran down my spine.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.
Far away, the crowd roared. The fight had started.
“Kellaren needs Firana to rebuild the Aias Mercenaries and bring them back to their old numbers, and you are the only one anchoring her to the orphanage,” Janus said. “The Marquis tried to sabotage the orphanage for fodder for the royal army before. Now, he might be the one trying to kill you. He needs to sever the bond between Firana and the orphanage. If Firana takes charge of the Aias Mercenaries, the Marquis will have enough loyal and experienced manpower to escort huge caravans at a very low price before anyone else.”
It made sense. Early investors always get the best returns. The Marquis controlled the Farlands with the Sentinels and defended the city with the Guard, but he lacked an armed wing to operate outside the frontiers of Farcrest. The new path between Ebros and the Kingdom of Tagabiria would change the inner politics of the kingdom forever, and I didn’t doubt everyone wanted to take their part. The Marquis had been preparing the ground for the big moment for years, and he could turn his back on the royal faction if that benefited Farcrest the most.
There was only one piece missing in Janus' story.
“How does this affect you?” I asked.
“Before the old Marquis picked me up, I was a street rat when Farcrest was a hellhole where criminals were sent to die, Robert. A bunch of newcomers will not want what I have built for myself,” Janus grunted. “We can’t touch the Marquis, but if we break the link between him and the Osgirian dogs, we will put him in a position that favors us.”
Whether Janus was right in his assessment of the political situation or not, getting Kellaren out of the picture sounded like a win-win situation. Despite Kellaren being closely related to a series of crimes against royal troops, Captain Kiln’s investigation wasn’t going anywhere. Janus seemed like the kind of man who didn’t care about working outside the law.
“Do you have anything we can use against Kellaren?” I asked.
“Just fragments of conversations and circumstantial evidence, I’m not going to lie. But I believe Kellaren holds receipts of all the shady business he had conducted since the death of the Aias leadership,” Janus smiled. “If we find those ledgers and letters, we could sever the tie between the Marquis and the Osgirians and strengthen the alliance between him and the royal faction.”
So far, our survival strategy has been preparing our defenses and hoping for the best, but that will not work forever. It would only take one word from a powerful lord to wipe the orphanage out of existence. It might be time to take the offensive.
The crowd roared again.
“I need proof,” I said.
“I only have my word. It’s not like I can record conversations,” Sir Janus replied, looking around and lowering his voice until it was a little more than a whisper. “I’m not asking you to believe me; frankly, I might be wrong. I hope I’m wrong. But if my suspicion is right, we are in big trouble. Look, Robert, I’m not asking you to betray the Marquis. I’m just asking for your help to expose Kerallen.”
I nodded. It seemed fair enough.
“I assume we are infiltrating the Odrac-Aias stronghold?” I said.
“Yes, we are infiltrating Kellaren’s manor in the Southern District. The tournament is the perfect distraction. We should wait for further rounds when the stakes are higher, and the matches are more exciting. I will let you know,” Sir Janus said, turning around and walking towards the Great Hall. I did the same but in the opposite direction.
Before I could turn the corner, Sir Janus stopped me.
“And tell the Aias kid not to show off. The better she performs the juicier the target she will be for Kellaren,” he said.
That would be difficult.
The situation remained almost the same. As long as I was useful for the royalist faction, the orphanage would be safe. However, I didn’t expect the Marquis to be flirting with the opposite side, considering how close he was to the Prince. What worried me was Firana. Whether she liked it or not, she was an essential political piece on the board.
I hoped Janus’ was wrong, but at the same time, I knew it was a vain hope.
I returned to the pavilion just to find the crowd going wild.
A sandstone spike emerged from the ground, but Firana jumped out of the way, putting on an acrobatic show and falling light as a feather. Dozens of sandstone spikes and columns emerged from the ground. Stone debris was scattered around the arena as if a giant had decided to topple part of the Great Hall.
Belya Nara kicked the ground, sending a two-meter solid sandstone wave toward Firana. The ground undulated under Firana’s feet, but with the help of [Windrider], she jumped over the stone wave and used the sandstone spikes to propel herself toward Belya.
The crowd roared.
Belya raised her mace and blocked Firana’s shortsword before unleashing a whirlwind of sand. Firana retreated to avoid the sand and waited until the spell lost power to lunge again. A slab of stone stood where Belya was a moment earlier. Firana stopped in her tracks, but the stone slab crumbled, revealing Belya’s mace. The surprise attack almost got Firana, but the girl contorted in a seemingly impossible movement and cartwheeled out of reach.
“What’s the score?” I asked as I sat on the bench between Elincia and Wolf. Ilya was standing on the edge of the arena, yelling instructions. She reminded me of the soccer coaches from the big European leagues.
Elincia instinctively searched for my hand; her’s was sweaty.
“Five barriers down each. Belya Nara is surprisingly talented. She hasn’t stopped casting skills since the start of the combat,” Zaon replied, his eyes glued to the combat.
“Don’t let Ilya and Firana know you compliment other girls,” Wolf joked.
Zaon shuddered and focused back on the combat.
Firana circled Belya, looking for an opening, but the Nara girl was comfortable controlling the center of the arena where the sandstone spikes were sparser. Firana was forced to slither between the sandstone spikes, one eye on Belya and the other on her surroundings. Then, she disappeared. Belya Nara looked around, but Firana wasn’t behind the sandstone spikes anymore.
The nobles in the VIP box stood against the rail guard, burying Ginz in a sea of taller and more muscular bodies.
Belya Nara looked up and summoned her defensive sand in a whirlwind, but Firana used Aerokinesis to disturb the spell before it could gather enough force. Firana landed feet first on Belya’s shoulders, sending her to the ground. The barriers around her body protected her from the impact, but Firana seized the moment to slash one of her barriers. Belya cushioned her fall, turning the ground into fluid sand, and swung her rock-covered mace, but Firana effortlessly pushed off her back and repositioned.
“Blind her! Stick her with the pointy end!” Ilya yelled from the sideline.
“You got it, boss!” Firana yelled back as she cast Aerokinesis with her foot and kicked a substantial amount of sand at Belya’s face.