I looked up at him.

"This… if this is true, and we can harness its power—"

"We could increase MP or SP," Griffith finished.

I nodded. But it was more than that. If this was real, we wouldn’t just be increasing our energy reserves. We’d have access to the precursor of the system’s energies.

I had no idea what that actually meant.

But it couldn’t be bad.

"I tried surrounding it with my own power," I continued. "It stopped its influence on Thea, but as soon as she woke up, it broke free. Easily."

Griffith shook his head.

"Forget about harnessing it," he said. "At least for now, focus on safety. Make sure you can consistently cut off its influence first."

I frowned. "Is there anyone who can help you with isolating it? I ca—"

He held up his hand, cutting me off. "I’m not at that stage yet. And I’ll wait until a mutual benefactor of ours reaches it. Then, we’ll help each other."

"Mutual bene—"

Oh.

I looked up at the man wearing a knowing smile.

"The Fifth is a weird man," Griffith said. "I’m glad you met him, but I would’ve introduced you two soon enough."

"You know about Drake?" I asked cautiously.

He nodded. "Careful calling him that. Or rather, don’t even mention his title around anyone except him or me."

"Understood."

I thought about my upcoming exploration mission tomorrow and hesitated. "Is it possible to meet with him today? He wants to see me tomorrow, but I have a mission."

Griffith shrugged.

"Make a scene at the Hall of Heroes. He’s in charge there. He’ll show up."

…Did I just get permission to break the rules?

I turned, ready to leave, when a bulky hand stopped me.

I looked back to see his orb in his palm.

"You gave me information. Valuable information," Griffith said. "I thought you were a better merchant than that, kid."

He grinned at me.

I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly, pulling out my own orb with my other hand. "I wish I could live up to your expectations, but I don’t even know the worth of information."

"Guess I won’t help, then," he said. "I’ll negotiate if it’s too high. Name a price."

I took a deep breath.

Alright.

Spiritual Reservoir Formation was originally three hundred points, though I was now selling it for thirty, not that it mattered, since it was old info now.

Grand Carving and Grand Channel had been worth four hundred to Griffith.

Body Refinement, once completed, was one thousand.

And I had just saved his life by warning him about the danger…

I mean, a thousand points can literally buy you the right to commit murder here.

I guess that’s the value of a life.

"A thousand points," I offered.

He stared me down.

For a moment, I felt smaller than usual.

Then—

"Deal."

We did the exchange, and just like that, I was another thousand points richer.

Wait…

Didn’t the prince say he isn’t made of points?

Either he lied…

Or, something even more likely, Griffith isn’t just some normal tank.

As I turned to leave, he called after me.

"A valuable life is worth much more than some recruits," he said. "You made a mistake."

…Yep.

He’s special, alright.

I stepped outside and took off, ready to take in the nightlife of the Hall of Heroes.

I arrived before long, and honestly, it wasn’t much different from usual, just lit up with lanterns and most stalls closed. It was not as empty as I expected, though. I looked up at the board I hadn’t paid the slightest attention to.

The ranking board.

In small text, the screen read the names of a hundred different recruits. These were my targets. I didn’t know how many of us were here at once, but it was not a small number. And these were the top among the third-year recruits. Who knew… maybe even someone younger like me was up there.

I didn’t bother reading them. I was too low down to care…for now. Instead, I simply registered for another fight.

Soon enough, my name was called, and I entered the spatial gate, its doors sealing shut behind me. I rolled my shoulders, getting ready for a battle.

It probably wouldn’t be too difficult.

As soon as I stepped inside, my opponent stood on the other side of—

"I surrender."

My thoughts short-circuited.

…What?

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Oh. Must be a healer.

Without waiting, I returned and registered for another fight.

Most people would be thrilled to fight a healer. Free win, easy ranking boost.

But honestly? I wanted to make a scene, and waltzing into the Hall of Heroes just to rack up wins against people who immediately forfeited wasn’t the kind of scene I wanted to make.

I would look insane.

Thankfully, when I got called for my next match, the guy in front of me did not look like the surrendering type.

He grinned when he saw my status, or rather, my lack of one.

I glanced at his. Didn’t look like the usual warrior classes.

Barbarian.

Either way, I wanted this over fast, so I ran up to him just as he charged at me, club raised high.

The fight was over before it even started.

His eyes widened at my speed.

I raised my hand, using my new skill, Silencing Current was a fitting name, I think, and pointed it at him. A stiff breeze rushed over his chest, and for a moment, he froze in place.

I yanked the club from his grip, shoved him down, and sat on him.

It didn’t take long.

"Continue the fight or face serious consequences," a terminal droned from above.

I smiled sweetly. "No."

"You have been wa—"

A different voice interrupted.

"Move, idiot."

I immediately recognized that voice.

"Alright, stop messing around. Go through the door," Drake commanded.

I sighed and got up, stepping off the poor guy beneath me.

"Uhhhh, sorry, man," I muttered, handing him his club back.

He looked at me, stunned, then awkwardly raised a hand. "No problem," he mumbled before turning and stepping back into his gate.

I sighed and entered my own, ready to meet with the Fifth Prince again.

The small box shifted, and when the doors opened, I stepped into a familiar-looking room. Same table. Same man.

Drake sat calmly, watching me.

"Is there something you need, Peter?"

"I, uh. Yeah, your majes—"

"Don’t." He cut me off smoothly. "I introduced myself to you as Drake. Use it."

I swallowed. "Well… Drake, I plan to go on an exploration tomorrow, so I can teach you the methods now… or you could just ask Griffith."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Why don’t you teach me? Give us some time to… change our opinions of each other."

Something about the way he said that made me wary, but I ignored it. He motioned toward the training area on the side.

"You’ve cultivated before?" I asked as we moved.

"Only a bit. Enough to sense and absorb external energy and make it my own," he admitted.

"Alright."

I hoped he was sharp enough to follow along because I was about to give him the worst explanation in history.

I started with Spiritual Reservoir Formation, breaking down its uses, purpose, and how it eventually led to the formation of the Grand Channel.

…Or at least, I tried.

I fumbled through my words, backtracked on key points, and at one point, I think I might have contradicted myself completely.

Drake didn’t stop me once.

When I finally managed to piece together something that vaguely resembled a coherent lesson, I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly.

"Uh, does that make sense?"

To my surprise, he picked it up fast. In just a few moments, he had already formed a reservoir, then looked at me expectantly.

Oh no.

"Alright, Peter," he said, standing up. "Enough playing around with those bottom-rankers. Let’s do some real fighting."

I immediately tried to think of an excuse.

"Um, well, you’re a royal. I can’t hit one, can I?"

He laughed. "You think you can hit me?"

There was silence.

I could hit him.

No. I would hit him.

That smile on his face…it was familiar. Too familiar. Arrogant. Charming. Not in a good way. Something about it felt… demonic.

I shifted into a defensive stance as he walked to the other side of the room.

"So, what’s your blessing?" I asked, noting how he wasn’t approaching.

Drake smirked. "Something that barely makes me qualified to be a legitimate son."

Overshare.

But before I could respond, he rushed me.

Immediately, he was already in my face.

I had already forgotten. This guy didn’t just match my speed, he exceeded it.

He threw a quick jab at my face, followed by a hook to my side. I moved back, just barely fast enough for his fist to graze past me.

The way he moved. It felt… strange.

Like this room.

Modern.

He was hopping lightly on the tips of his feet, weight shifting smoothly with every step.

The fight continued, with me constantly backing away, dodging his advances. Every time I tried to counter, he was already closing the gap, keeping me from setting up a technique.

I needed an opening.

Finally, as I sidestepped another quick jab, I lifted my hand, releasing Silencing Current.

The air rushed toward him, and for a brief moment, his momentum slowed. His face twisted in confusion, his steps hesitating.

But just as I moved in to strike, he snapped his leg up.

A front kick.

I barely saw it before it slammed into my chest.

The force flung me backward, my feet leaving the ground.

I crashed hard onto the floor, the impact rattling through me.

"Yep," I grunted. "I'm done."

A hand extended down toward me.

"Not bad for someone who doesn’t even have their system yet," Drake said.

I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up with effortless strength. My chest still ached as I dusted myself off.

"For the next steps, I can explain them now, or you can ask the commander when you get there," I said.

"I’ll just focus on one thing at a time," Drake replied nonchalantly. "I’ll be finished with this stage in a couple of days anyway."

Suddenly I remembered something. "Actually, I just thought of something else."

Drake raised a brow. "What’s up?"

"Do you have a way to contact my friend?" I asked hopefully.

Without hesitation, he walked over to what looked like his kitchen and pulled something from a cupboard.

"Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem," he said, tossing it in his hand. "As long as he signs up for a match, I’ll just have an alert set on his name."

"Oh." That was… surprisingly accommodating.

"Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks."

"You hungry?"

"Huh?"

"Are you hungry?" Drake repeated. "I’m gonna make some food."

I blinked. "One. Always. Two, a prince that cooks?"

He chuckled. "You don’t seem to know much about nobility here. Just like you, I had to go to battle. My brothers and sisters did too. We’re not totally helpless."

"So you all have to take care of yourselves?"

Drake paused, grabbing a knife and cutting something I couldn’t see past the counter.

"No… not all of us," he admitted. Then he gestured toward the table. "You can sit."

I took him up on the offer.

"So, I heard some things about you," I said casually.

Drake didn’t look up. "Oh?"

"A kind and soft prince. Not a great reputation."

"Soft? Me?" He laughed. "I guess compared to my family."

"You got any non-crazy family?" I asked.

He hummed in mock thought, then shook his head resoundingly.

"Nope. Even the nice ones are pretty crazy."

Then he glanced at me.

"You’re pretty familiar with that, right?"

I frowned. "What?"

He looked up, expression unreadable. "Oh, you don’t know."

I sat up straighter. "Know what?"

"I figured he was trying to reenter noble society, considering how much time he's been spending with Lyra again."

Something cold settled in my stomach.

"Who?"

Drake’s smirk widened.

"Elric."

I froze.

"Yeah," he continued, cutting something on the counter again, completely casual. "Lyra got along with him so well when they were young. A shame about what happened to her family, though."

My head was spinning.

"Hold on. Back up." My voice turned sharp now. "Elric is—?"

Drake finally turned to face me, and in that moment, I saw it.

The smile.

They both had it.

Then he said it.

"My baby brother."