A few minutes after sailing towards Vyzar

As soon as the meeting finished and everyone in the room got to their respective duties on the ship, it immediately sailed off, accompanied by the other four ships. Just as Connor predicted, his leg started aching like it was about to explode, but thankfully he managed to arrive in the room with the maps and compasses just in time before he would eventually pass out thanks to the pain. Yuri just helped out as best as he could when it came to go full sail, switch weights and be at standby for any orders the Captain would need to make.

As for Donovan and Zagul, let's just say the Lacerta was very keen to truly understand what the hell a Twinsoul is, and of course he would drag along the Zealous Human. He just joined the “crew”, as Connor would say, being the newest member of it also meant that he was the least trustworthy. Sure he agreed in taking him along for the plan, but until he can say without a shadow of a doubt that Donovan can be trusted, best to keep him at close range.

Not to mention, Hughes is still not reliable. If he could use his protective magic on other people, why didn't he say so when they met? Why did he reveal himself in the first place? Connor doesn't need to allow the Star Soul to leave his body, as far as he can tell, so leaving on his own volition didn't make sense. Henry was not going to reveal himself in such a complicated situation, especially regarding a sensitive topic. So, if Hughes will give half-answered explanations, he will need to be proactive and search what a Twinsoul is for himself. And of course, Donovan will be alongside him.

Why? Because he wants to. Why else?

The problem is that he is on a ship with limited documentation. This limited information is stored in the Captain's personal office, which by extension, means that either the Captain or the Foreman have access to it. Zagul will need to do plan A: Ask permission to see the documentation, praying that it has something useful, which is very unlikely, or, plan B: Steal the very unlikely information. With his set of skills, or lack thereof, it's a complicated predicament that he set for himself. But being honest, the smallest possibility that Hughes might be a problem, instead of a solution, made him not sleep. Ever since he revealed himself, Zagul couldn't really trust Hughes.

Hell, he can't fully trust Yuri, imagine a floating Star that comes out of an Elf's ass.

“Are you sure this is wise?”, Donovan asked in a repressed anxiousness.

“I don't know.”, Zagul sneered, “And that's what doesn't sit right with me.”

“I too want to know what a Twinsoul is, but to risk the smallest security that I have? That you have?”, Despite not knowing for more than a few minutes, Donovan showed concern for the Lacerta.

“Keep that religious ass-licking sympathy inside yourself, Donovan.”, Zagul growled, “I need answers, and I am going to get them.”

Donovan could only give a resigned frown to Zagul. If he is truly going to pursue this path, might as well ensure that shit doesn't hit the feet, “Fine. But we leave if things go south, right?”

“Are you ordering me around?”

“Right?”

They stared at each other, the visual standoff ensuing. Zagul needed to admit that despite being bruised, cut and broken, Donovan's stare didn't have an ounce of fear, which made him click his tongue.

“Alright, I get it.”, Zagul diverted his gaze, “Human prick.”

“So you are racist.”, Donovan chuckled.

“Hard not to be.”, The Lacerta shrugged.

They finally arrived at the ship’s deck, the salty air of the Arno Sea greeting his nostrils and the sun ever so lightly burning their skin at the sudden exposure to sunlight. As they were feeling before, the wobblingness of the ship made it tricky to navigate, but they eventually got used to it as they walked to the Captain, who was currently at the helm.

“Cap’n!”, Zagul called out, “Where is the Quartermaster?”

Zhivko Polanski, the Captain, looked at the Lacerta. Captain Zhivko Polanski is a tall, muscular Eldorian with piercing hazel eyes and a weathered face marked by a life at sea. He has graying chestnut hair tied back, a thick beard, and a stern yet just demeanor. Dressed in a dark woolen coat with brass buttons, a white shirt, knee-high leather boots, and a tricorn hat, he commands respect and attention.

Zagul couldn't care less about the man, but paid attention to the clothes he wore.

“Way more expensive than what I am using.”

“I believe he's at the Office.”, Zhivko said without sparing a glance.

“I appreciate it, Cap’n.”

The Office was just below the helm, so they immediately entered it. The Captain's Office aboard the brigantine is a modest yet highly functional space, nestled just behind the Captain's private quarters near the stern of the ship. The room is compact, designed to make the most of every inch available, reflecting the efficient use of space typical of naval architecture. Upon entering, they saw a solid oak desk secured to the floor, its surface cluttered with navigational charts, a brass compass, and a well-worn logbook. The desk's drawers are filled with essential tools of the trade: sextants, dividers, and a collection of nautical almanacs. A sturdy, bolted-down chair sits behind the desk, its legs reinforced to withstand the ship's movements. In front of said table was a chair and in that chair, was Connor, already doing paperwork.

“Hey.”, Connor said, but quickly refocused on the papers.

A Healer was there, taking care of his leg for the time being.

“Where is Richardson?”, Donovan asked, “We need to talk to him.”

“There.”, Connor pointed without looking.

“Stay still for me. Your leg won't recover if you move that much.”, The Healer complained.

Connor could only groan.

Without sharing another word, The Lacerta and Human walked to the door, which was probably the personal room of Richardson, an assumption that was confirmed once they opened the door. Richardson was taking a few notes with a pencil on his desk, but elegantly stopped and turned to face whoever appeared.

“May I help you?”, Richardson said with a smile.

“I hope so.”, Zagul said, rolling his eyes, “Can I come in?”

“Sure.”, The Foreman pointed at the bed inside the room.

As Zagul entered the room, Donovan was denied entrance by Richardson, who then closed the door. The Lacerta sat down on the bed and lowered his head to the Foreman.

“Master.”, Zagul almost puked saying this word, “I'd like to make a request, if that is possible.”

Richardson waved his hand upwards so that Zagul raised his head, “What that request would be?”

Despite being allowed to lift his face, Zagul politely refused the gesture, “I want to check the local stored documents to understand what Connor species is.”

“Connor?”, Richardson raised a brow in smug curiosity, “And why would you of all people want to learn about him? To be more racist?”

“There are somethings I just don't understand about him.”, Zagul tried to play it off as just annoying curiosity and confusion, “He doesn't even act like an Elf.”

“He is a Wood Elf. I understand your uncertainty with him, but why should I allow it?”

That made Zagul slightly wince. Truly, Richardson didn't have any reason to allow this, nor he could see any advantage to do so unless Zagul provided a sufficient reason. Then again, what could he offer? He probably already searched what he could about the Wood Elf and their history of Warmongering, so pointing that out would be more detrimental than beneficial. The Boxing Stuff that Connor has didn't ring any bells to Zagul when he first heard about it, so maybe offering that might be beneficial. But would it though? An unknown Martial Art would spike his interest? Improbable would be the most likely scenario.

“Hiebcom Zagul.”

That name made him stop thinking.

“Pardon?”, Zagul now looked at Richardson and his smile. His mischievous and despicable smile.

“That is your name. The name of a forgotten noble of a forgotten land.”, Richardson said as he turned back to his notes, resuming his scribbling, “You can't provide me a reason to allow you, but you have my curiosity. What can you find about that Wood Elf, I wonder? If you of all people have a reason to do it, then I might as well watch it.”

Gritting his teeth, Zagul could only nod to his master, “This one is grateful.”

“You may leave. The documents are in the storage room near the loggings, hard to miss.”

Zagul heard it, but already closed the door. He thought he had covered his origins, covered every track or evidence of his existence in the last decade. But apparently, Richardson knows. Donovan looked confused at Henry, who was fuming in silent rage, but still very much unstable.

“Did it work?”, Donovan asked carefully.

“A little too well.”, The Lacerta muttered, “They are in the storage room.”

“Good, we'll have no problem there, I guess.”, Donovan looked at Connor, who was still very much pissed at the paperwork, “See you soon, Connor.”

“Yea-Yea-Yea.”, He didn't even properly answer them.

As they left the office room and got back again on the deck, as if this day wasn't already an unpleasant experience, the duo just got in the way of the person Zagul didn't want to see for the entirety of this sailing. Maybe the world decided to fuck around with his fate or something, because there is simply no other explaination.

“Oh, a Lacerta. It's been a while since I saw one of you.”, Fynsell said in her dismissive tone.

“Pardon me, Lady Fynsell. I apologize if I have intruded upon your enjoyment of this lovely day at sea. I will take my leave at once.”, Zagul bowed immediately and Donovan could only replicate the etiquette.

It was a rare occurrence, no, a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence for a commoner to see the nobles or even a highly influential person in the flesh, instead of just hearing about them. That was used a lot by the nobles themselves since they could just disguise themselves as commoners and visit the cities they wished. Nobles, wanting or not, are just like Gods and it's mandatory to treat them with the utmost respect, unless you like being beheaded.

Fynsell blinked, “Such courtesy coming from a slave. How… delightful.”

Her voice carried a mix of surprise, disgust and intrigue. Zagul didn't want to see any noble with that mix of emotions, since it never ends well for the person that has their attention.

“It is only natural to speak to a noble with the utmost respect. To do otherwise would be disrespectful, something I would never even contemplate.”, Zagul defused the situation, hoping to just get going with his stuff.

“Well, at least he knows his place.”, Jay'Ky commented offhandedly.

Fynsell smiled, “You, slave. Play chess with me.”

Zagul's eyes twitched. He could deny the offer thanks to the rune, but he really doesn't care about this stupid Elf. What a terrible time to have something else to do.

“As you wish, Lady Fynsell.”, Zagul complied, albeit angry.

“I'll search for any documents while you…”, Donovan looked at the True Elf, “...good luck.”

----------------------------------------

“That should be enough work on your leg for this week.”, The healer commented as he got back to his seat at his desk, “If I work more it will only tire the both of us.”

“Hmhmm.”, Connor just grunted.

“I'll be leaving now.”

And just like that, Connor was alone. With paperwork. A loooooooot of paperwork. Paperwork is just mind-numbing. Each form looks like the last, and filling them out feels like an endless loop. It sucks the life out of you, and the clock seems to be stuck. Every time you finish a page, it feels like the stack of papers only gets bigger. There's no creativity, no excitement, just the dull routine of writing the same info over and over. He craves something interesting to break the monotony, but all Connor gets is more paperwork.

“Seriously, Lad. It's not as near as unbearable as you feel like.”, Hughes tried to lift Connor's spirit up.

“When you are a martial artist with considerable prowess, anything as paused as this is… dull.”, It seems it didn't work as the Star Soul intended.

Connor proceeded to continue the paperwork, as well as looking after the maps and route the ship is taking. Upon inspection, the Vyzar Continent was really well charted with great details, showing a bunch of countries that the Wood Elf wasn't sure how to pronounce. There was the Shadehill, The United Confederation with the four countries. Edhelraen, Viteros, Pokulsk and Cingriry. There are some other countries here and there, but the most notable one is the other coastal country of Lapinaniz, apparently a port country with routes to another continent. That puzzled Connor since Vyzar was said to be the main continent, so why was there another continent fully charted as well?

“Connor?”, Richardson said.

“That be me.”, He said, grateful for a change of pace.

“Tell me, what would you ask if you became the champion of the Colosseum?”, He asked as he sat down on a chair.

“Are you really asking me that?”, Connor said exasperated.

Really? From his perspective, the only logical thing for a slave to ask is for freedom.

The Foreman laughed at the reaction, “Well, if your objective is so set in stone, then allow me to ask. What are you going to do after that?”

“After?”, He asked confused.

The usual smile that Richardson had became softer, almost… longing for something, “I plan on retiring, returning to my family. I have left them in a shaking situation, but now I have an opportunity to go back.”

“Your family, huh? I wish I had someone to go back to.”, Connor said in a sad sigh.

“As sad as that is to hear, you didn't answer the question.”

Connor thinks about it, “I don't know. There is a lot to do and the overwhelming amount of options doesn't make it easier.”, He then looked at Richardson giving a sincere smile, “I guess I would have my own family. Maybe get a wife, a house in the center of a kingdom and join an army. That or be a mercenary.”

“Interesting. Most people want to leave the populated areas, build a house in the outskirts and live with the retirement money.”, Richardson chuckled.

“What about you? What would you do?”

The Foreman takes the locket that was resting in his neck and opens it, looking at the picture inside it, “I'd return home, pay for a decent school for my son, buy the biggest cake I could afford on the bakery store and fuck my wife from sunset to sunrise.”

Connor could only whistle in awe, “Someone is hungry.”

“Not hungry, Connor.”, He smiled at the Elf, “Just… I miss them. And I'd do anything to see them again.”

“Be my guest. It's not that I can stop you from doing it.”

They heard a commotion coming from the deck, “Seriously, this match is insane!”

“He has already lost his queen!? What a joke!”

Richardson got up, “What's that noise?”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“I dunno.”, Connor got up, “Mind if I check it?”

“You just want an excuse to not do paperwork.”

After being called out, Connor shakingly pointed at the door, “Can I?”

Richardson sighed, “Sure.”

“Oh, Thank God.”

They left the Office, the sun and salt immediately making themselves known. The deck was flooded with people, slave or not, around a table near the main post, which was odd since even the marines that were working were paying attention to what was happening on that table. The Captain who was still on the helm was also sparing a glance and giggling to himself, and that raised even more the already lifted eyebrow that Connor and Richardson have.

They pushed their way on the crowd and Connor needed to evaluate the situation with a both shocked face and a loading screen type of expression after he saw that, not only is there a Chess game being played, but also that Zagul and another Elf is playing it. The woman, who was in a very unique and extravagant clothes in shades of blue, was being guarded by a very vigilant and mean looking guard in leather armor, or what Connor assumed was leather, with horns in his head.

From Zagul's perspective, this was the worst case scenario. They started the match with slow and well planned moves, pawns dividing the pieces with knights moving from the sidelines to lower the adversary's pieces. Unfortunately for the Lacerta, Fynsell was very much playing a low-risk-low-reward strategy, picking up moves that seemed to be ineffective or “safe” as to lure him into a false sense of security.

This inadvertently led to Zagul using his more powerful pieces prematurely, thus losing them. He has now only three pawns, one bishop, one rook that he can use to “castle” the king and one knight. He just lost the Queen when he put the King in check, but a well hidden bishop was enough to protect the most important piece in chess. The only thing Zagul did take that was a “win” in this game was the Elf's Queen, but looking at how this game went, Zagul might as well forfeit.

“Chess? Interesting.”, Richardson commented while stroking his chin.

“Zagul? What is happening? Why is everyone around this game of…”, Connor looked at the table, “Chess?”

Fynsell noted how the Wood Elf spoke fluent Petruvian. Hmmm…

“Show more respect, slave.”, Jay said with authority, “You are interrupting private business.”

Connor looked at the horned tanned man, then ignored him, turning back to the Lacerta, “Well?”

The Magna immediately gritted his teeth in anger as he was completely thrown aside by a slave. But, since Fynsell herself didn't say a word, he decided to keep his mouth shut.

For now.

“I agreed to play a game of chess with Lady Fynsell, Connor.”, Zagul said, not looking at Connor, “Before we started, Lady Fynsell suggested we make a bet.”

Connor noticed that this was not how Zagul spoke. He was terrified about what would happen if he said something that could have the minor chance of having a double-meaning, restraining even his gaze towards the chess board.

This wasn't right.

“A bet? What for?”

Before Zagul could say anything, Fynsell herself answered, “Oh, just a thing, an idea that I got thanks to this gecko over here.”

She said all that with a smile on her face, finishing that sentence with a malicious laugh to the ears of Connor.

“And you accepted it?”, The Wood Elf turned to Zagul.

He didn't reply.

“My God you accepted it.”

“It's not a big deal, really.”, Fynsell said, looking at Richardson, “The bet was simple, if he won, I'd tell him what I know about the Wood Elves. If he lost, I'd make him my personal slave.”

Connor clenched his fist, “Is that so?”

“Do you have a problem with it, slave?”, Jay said, putting his hand in the hilt of his sword.

“Several.”, Connor said, meeting the state with equal ferocity, “In fact, I would like to switch places with Zagul and play a game of chess myself.”

The crowd that surrounded the table, was very quiet about the exchange of dialogue up until now. They laughed at the gall of the Wood Elf who, supposedly, challenged a noblewoman to a game of chess. Richardson on the other hand was very interested in the idea, it would show the mental capabilities of Connor, a battle between two races of Elves. The Magna was fuming in rage, but even so, he waited for his Lady to speak, and hopefully put the slave back in his place.

“Ha! You? And what would I gain from this?”, Fynsell cackled, “You know very well that I am not going to change the bet I made with him.”

“Did I ask you to do that?”, Connor said with anger in his voice, shocking the crowd and pretty much everyone else.

“Connor, Lad, I don't believe this is a wise choice. She is a noblewoman, and we'll get ourselves into trouble.”, Hughes tried to warn Connor.

“Shut up, Hughes. I'm not letting my friend get humiliated.”

Here is the scene: A slave, talking up to the same level or even higher, to a True Elf, a noblewoman of one of the most, if not the most powerful nation of the Main Continent. That was unprecedented, and quite frankly, very dangerous.

Fynsell managed to put herself together enough to answer the Wood Elf, “Very well, what do you propose?”

“To increase the bet.”, He shooed Zagul out of the chair, “I am betting myself and the secrets of my race.”

“Oh, that got my attention.”, She said as she crossed her legs, “Of course, that means you will ask something else for your prize. But why should I allow this?”

“You sound afraid of losing.”

The entire crew went wild, with “YOOOOO”s and “DAMN”s all around the place. Jay was about to strike the slave where he stood, Fynsell felt her pride being attacked, Zagul was sweating all over, but Connor… he was calm. Eeriely so.

“Humor him.”, Richardson said after being quiet all this time, “C'mon, it will be fun.”

“I hate that smile.”

“I will tell you my wish when I win.”, Connor said, now sitting on the table.

“If you win.”, She said, prepared to give the pieces back to Connor.

He refused the pieces, “No. When I win.”

Now, that was uncalled for and at the same time, an insane decision by Connor. He was offered the opportunity to restart the whole game with all the pieces, but instead, he opted to continue the game that they played before. Zagul was honestly questioning Connor's sanity much like every other marine surrounding the table. Nevertheless, Fynsell smiled at the bravado this stupid slave was making. A courageous fool, but a fool he is still.

The previous game resumed, with Connor moving… the king?

“What are you doing, Connor?!?”, Zagul shouted in desperation, “Now your King can't castle!”

“Why the fuck would I want to hide?”, Connor said while looking directly at Fynsell's eyes.

“You better know what you are doing.”, The Lacerta begrudgingly complied.

Fynsell gave a small snort. No way this stupid idiot is besting her in chess. Well, Richardson said it was going to be fun, even though she was reluctant before she is now inclined to believe it. Maybe she will toy with him for a bit, play with her food, after all she needs something to enjoy on this ship. It's going to be a stressful month towards Edhelraen, so she might as well have as much fun as possible. Fynsell looked at the board and moved one of her bishops forward, threatening a check on the Wood Elf's King.

Connor immediately moved his knight closer to his last three pawns.

“Alright, a fast player I see.”

Fynsell moved her pieces, using a more bold strategy than before, medium-risk-medium-reward to face this next opponent, and it proved to be an interesting set of movements. As she thought about her next move, Connor would only look at her, barely looking at the board, with the same angry stare as before. She couldn't read his mind, but could guess that he was cursing her to all known and unknown gods. No matter, soon he would be put in his place.

The True Elf moved a pawn forward after a brief analysis, only for said pawn to be killed by the previous knight. A surprising move, not because of the possibility of the pawn being taken, but because the so-called “Connor” actually went through the risk of taking it. And as soon as Fynsell finished her movement, the Wood Elf immediately made it. That was weird, since there is no way someone would have this quick thinking while not looking at the board.

She looked at the board and the Knight could mãe a move that could take either a Rook or the other bishop she has. A few of her pieces would be too far away to make counter procedures, especially after the loss of her Queen, but alas, she can at least take one of them out of danger. However she can also put the King in check with the Bishop she moved previously. And that's exactly what she is going to do.

With her hand, he put the bishop two squares away from the king, but still in line, “Bishop, G4.”, A smile appeared on her face, one of pure satisfaction.

And that smile was immediately shattered when the Rook who was in G8 took the bishop. Connor, still looking at Fynsell, made the move without breaking eye contact or making a sound. A few people of the crew groaned in pain seeing another important piece be taken in just two moves. Sure, a pawn is not that big of a loss, but a bishop was quite a piece, being useful for traps on the board, and even a deadlier weapon combined with the knight.

But what bugged Fynsell was not the fact that Connor managed to take an important piece of hers, but that he never stopped staring at her. Even Jay was unsure how to properly address the situation, since the slave was playing normally. His gaze wasn't one of lust, thinking on the many ways to take her on bed, or vile and disgust as in how he would torture her. He was focused on something and what that is, he has no idea.

Fynsell's face initially registered shock as he realized the move. However, this quickly transformed into a wry smile, and she let out a chuckle, acknowledging the lucky move with a look of amused resignation. The True Elf stood firm to such threats and continued moving her pieces, taking one out of the immediate danger and preparing another for the eventual takeover of the board. Connor moved his pieces with equal prowess, almost mimicking the strategy his opponent was using.

Fynsell chuckled as soon as she realized it, “Imitation is the biggest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”

“True.”, Connor said, easing his brows, “However, be it as it may, I am not plagiarizing your moves, as they are full of shit.”

Again, the crew made noises similarly to what a street gang would do when someone answers on the same level.

Fynsell clicked her tongue. He seemed calm doing this! How is he not desperately thinking on how to beat her and take her pieces? And what's it with him making a move instantly after she does her own?!? She has to think about the ups and downs of each move before making them, look at the board and carefully maneuver the pieces avoiding every mistake. And even so, after all this thinking and planning, she is the one losing pieces every three or four moves? Preposterous!

“Pawn D2, Check.”, Connor said, putting his pawn near the King.

“Nice move, Connor.”, A Slave said in the crowd.

“Wow, you really are good at this, huh?”, A marine said with amusement.

Said pawn was being covered by the Rook all the way on D8, ensuring that the pawn would be safe if the king tried to attack it. Fynsell was visibly frustrated with the turn of events, losing important pieces here and there, she was reduced to a single knight and a single bishop. Connor lost a pawn and a bishop, but he still has all of the two pawns, one of them ready to kill the king. She looked at the board, the only true safe move is to put the King from E1 to E2, but that would leave a free path for the Pawn to evolve and become whatever piece the Wood Elf would desire.

Reluctantly, Fynsell was about to move the King, when she spotted the Knight in a very secluded position, able to kill the pawn. She did it and, unsurprisingly, the Rook took the Knight, making her sacrifice buy some more time before she could reliably attack. The pawns she had were close to reaching the last layer of the board, but Connor would do something about them, even with just a knight all the way, he would be able to stop her advance. Even so there was still one piece that would be able to put this stalemate to a much more favorable side, the bishop.

She moved the bishop towards the King, once again, putting it in check. This time, for what felt like forever, Connor finally moved the king away, so that meant she could properly plan what to do next, even if he would never stop staring at her. At first, that was something inconsequential, barely an inconvenience, then it was annoying, then unnerving. But right now? It was horrifying how he can just stare at her and still play chess and be totally in control of the game.

The moves became slow, more defensive minded, Connor moving his King carefully while Fynsell tried to trap the Wood Elf at all costs. She was so focused on this task, slowly regaining control over the board that she couldn't help but sigh in relief. She had to admit that Connor was a difficult opponent. Maybe if he took the offer to start the game all over, this battle would be something way different, with more stakes than this match.

Zagul was watching the intense mental battle unfold with a pained face. He felt a surge of gratitude and admiration for his friend, who had stepped in to defend his honor, even though his life was now on the line. His eyes were fixed on the board, following each move with bated breath. He clenched his fists unconsciously, his knuckles bleeding, as the tension in the deck mounted. Each strategic play, each clever counter, was met with a mix of anxiety and awe. As the game progressed, his heart pounded, and he couldn't help but lean forward, completely absorbed by the fierce duel before him.

He was so immersed in the look of Connor, never leaving the True Elf, that he was surprised when Connor made the next move.

“Pawn, C1. I would like the Queen, please.”

Those words made the entire ship erupt in excitement.

“No way!”

“He actually did it!”

“What the hell, man!”

Fynsell was so focused on the other side of the board that she was just as confused as Zagul. She then checked her side of the board and the two pawns were right there. One on C1 and the other on B2, just waiting patiently for his turn to evolve. Fynsell's eyes widened in alarm. A flash of realization crossed his face, followed by a furrowed brow as he grasped the implications of the move. For a moment, she just sat frozen, unable to mask her shock.

Then, arrogance resurfaced, twisting her features into a sneer. She leaned back in his chair, arms crossed defiantly, refusing to acknowledge the brilliance of the move. And it was indeed quite brilliant, drawing the attention of your opponent to the prospect of victory, while at the same time making moves that ensured yours. That proactive thinking. Genius in fact. Despite the undeniable shift in the game's balance, she scoffed, muttering under her breath, her pride refusing to accept the looming defeat.

“Unacceptable.”, She muttered, “How did you do these moves?”

Jay saw the tense and angry and frustrated that his Lady was making, and this time he didn't hesitate in grabbing his sword, “Stop! Reveal your foul tactics this instant!”

He pointed the sword to the Wood Elf, who didn't even blink, even though he was, quite literally, at the edge of the sword.

Connor didn't turn his face, side glancing the sword, then side glancing the Guard, then bending his neck away from the sword, “You accusing me of cheating?”

“That’s the only explanation for these circumstances.”, He claimed, sword still pointed at Connor.

“Alright, prove it.”

Jay clicked his tongue, “You are a slave, that is reason enough. No slave should have this level of skill in such a complex game.”

Connor grimaced in utter confusion, “What? Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Don't make fun of me, Slave.”, He pressed the blade on his neck, something that Connor didn't want at all.

The Wood Elf raised his hands, “Right, first of all, it's not a complex game. Easy to learn, hard to master? Sure. Complex? No. Secondly, if you, a guard of this person over here, accuse someone else, you must present two things.”

“My Lady is not just a person.”, Jay growled, but thankfully removed the blade from Connor's throat.

Fynsell sighed, but put a hand in her chest, “I am Fynsell Nyëthilhand, eldest daughter of the Nyëthilhands, engineer, magical student, owner of the Epson County and a renowned assistant of innumerous inventors. I am the woman who created the Engine, and I am personally watching over this ship, the delivery of important documents and goods necessary for Caeledrisc. You should show more respect, slave.”

She straightened up, her posture becoming more rigid and imposing. Her eyebrows arched and her mouth set into a firm line, exuding an air of authority. A hint of irritation flickered in her eyes. She tilted her chin slightly upward, her gaze sweeping the room to ensure everyone grasped the gravity of her words. Her stance was confident, almost haughty, as she waited for the recognition and respect she felt she deserved. A very “I am important” declaration.

Connor looked at Fynsell, “Cool. I am Connor.”

The total indifference and sarcasm in his voice was… something.

“Why you-!”, Jay was about to kill this slave right now.

“As I was saying, you need to offer two things in order to accuse someone of something.”, Connor raised one finger, “First, a motive. Everyone does something thanks to a motive, a reason they can base their decisions on.”

Jay snorted, “That's easy. You want to cheat because you want to win. You haven't specified the wish you want, and since you are putting both your life and the life of the gecko over there…”

“...put two and two together and there you have it.”, Fynsell completed the sentence.

“Alright, now there is the second thing you need.”, Connor said, showing now two fingers, “Proof. Undeniable proof that I cheated in the game.”

“That's easy to do.”, Richardson said in an amused smile.

More towards the whole exchange than the actual suggestion.

“Go on.”, Connor gestured to him to continue.

“Connor, have you cheated in this game, in any conceivable way?”

“Nope.”

“There you have it, Lady Fynsell.”, Richardson said with a playful bow.

“What!?! How does this prove his innocence?!”, Jay shouted to the Foreman.

“Because of this thing here.”, Connor pointed towards his neck, the rune peacefully sitting there.

Jay could only stomp the ground, muttering under his own breath, the muscles in his face contorting and his veins showing thanks to the insufferable amount of rage he is feeling. Of course he wouldn't have cheated, because that stupid rune wouldn't let him cheat. And now, the guard and the royalty of the ship, look like two idiots because of this oversight.

Fynsell sighed, “I forfeit. I can't beat you.”

“My Lady! You can still turn the tables and win!”, Jay pleaded with Fynsell, bemused at her sudden decision.

“I lost, Jay. He played me with fewer pieces and still managed to foil every move I made. There is no denial of that.”

She didn't admit it because she had honor. She admitted because her pride was fucking destroyed in public. The entire ship saw the game and how the royalty accused a slave of cheating because they were losing. Losing to a slave. It was already humiliating enough, but to be taught a lesson after falsely accusing said slave? That was even worse. If she even contemplated continuing playing, she would only make this be a death sentence to her reputation. The Wood Elf won, whether she liked it or not, he had control over the situation all the time.

And then she started loathing Connor.

“Alright, then I will tell you my wish now.”, Connor said with a bored face.

Reluctantly, Fynsell got up, “I am listening.”

“He is going to ask her to go to bed.”

“Nah, he is going to punch her with no repercussions.”

“What about his own freedom? That seems nice too.”

Comments like these were raised in the crowd, and she couldn't deny any of them. Fynsell agreed on anything, so she is going to keep her word.

“I want you to apologize to Zagul.”

What?

“What?”, Fynsell said.

“What?”, Jay said.

“What?”, Zagul said, suddenly being brought up to the conversation.

“I want you to apologize to Zagul, for trying to humiliate him and for trying to make him your personal slave. That's all I want.”, Connor repeated, his voice stern and stoic.

Just like Galadar…

Fynsell gritted her teeth, her lips pursing as she used every fiber of her being to remain calm in this situation, “I… apologize to you, Zagul, for… trying to do these… horrible… things to you.”

Zagul could only nod, giving an awkward and suspicious smile.

“Thank you.”, Connor's face softened, “Now, Henry, let's get going. I am starving.”

And just like that, they left the crowd.

A crowd that was going to have a lot to talk about.

And I mean a lot.