While Niles continued his conversation with Vulcan in the forge, something sinister was unfolding within the castle walls.

A soldier, clad in the unmistakable helm of a snarling lion, one of the elite Xargian Guard, stalked through the castle’s corridors. His heavy boots echoed against the stone floor, each step purposeful.

Reaching his destination, he slammed the wooden door open without hesitation. The sudden noise startled the woman inside—a doctor, hunched over her desk, her quill snapping mid-stroke. She gasped, standing quickly.

“Where is my prey?” His voice was low and sinister, an almost guttural growl.

“E-excuse me?” she stammered, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge of the desk.

“The injured guard,” he said, his tone cutting like the edge of a blade. “I was sent to claim his life. Where is he?”

The doctor swallowed hard, but to her credit, she didn’t shrink entirely. “I’m sorry, Sir Lion, but that man has already been… attended to.”

The Xargian Guard wasn’t satisfied. He stepped into the room, the light from the hallway catching the edges of his imposing armor. “Where. Is. He?” he demanded, his voice taut with impatience.

“I told you,” she replied, her voice wavering but steady, “He’s already been attend—”

She didn’t get to finish. The door slammed shut behind him with a deafening crack, the latch rattling under the force.

“I’m this close to leveling up,” he murmured, holding his thumb and forefinger just a hair’s breadth apart. His tone was calm, almost conversational, but the malice beneath it was palpable. “That guard was promised to me. By royal decree. None shall come between me and my prey.”

With a deliberate motion, he unsheathed his sword. Flames burst to life along the blade, their glow illuminating his lion helm and the doctor’s terrified face.

“Unless,” he continued, his voice darkening, “you’d like to offer yourself instead.”

The fiery blade traced a slow, taunting circle in the air around her, the heat licking at her skin. He tilted his head, the flicker of flames reflected in his visor. “You’re beautiful,” he said, almost admiringly. The tone could have been complimentary if not for the malice dripping from every word. “It would pain me to burn such a pretty woman.”

The doctor trembled, her knees threatening to buckle, but she held her ground. “I-I don’t know where he is,” she insisted.

Through the slits of his lion helm, his gaze locked with hers. He caught the flicker of hesitation—a crack in her defense as her eyes betrayed her. He nodded slowly, sheathing his sword. The flames extinguished, but the oppressive heat still lingered in the room.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, almost kindly. “You don’t know anything. I understand.”

Relief flickered briefly across her face—until his gauntleted hand shot out and clamped around her throat.

The air rushed out of her lungs, her desperate attempts to breathe reduced to shallow gasps. He leaned in, his grip firm but not crushing. Not yet.

“Let’s try this again,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with malice. “I’ll let you go in a second, and we’ll start over. Does that sound fair?”

Her wide, panicked eyes screamed her answer.

“And one more thing,” he added casually. “Don’t scream.”

With that, he dropped her to the floor like a discarded doll. She collapsed in a heap, coughing and gasping for air, her hands clutching her throat.

He squatted down beside her, his tone suddenly light, almost playful. “I told you I wouldn’t burn a beautiful woman like you,” he said with mock reassurance. Then, his voice turned cold. “But don’t mistake that for mercy. I don’t care who I prey upon, so long as I level up.”

She stared at him, terrified, her breath still ragged.

“Xhiva,” she finally rasped, her voice dry as sand. “Xhiva took him. He made me promise not to tell anyone. Please… don’t tell him I—”

The Lion Guard patted her trembling head with mock affection. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

He stood, his massive frame casting a long shadow over her. Without another word, he turned, opened the door, and slammed it shut behind him.

The woman slumped against the wall, trembling, as the soldier’s heavy footsteps echoed away into the distance.

He had a new destination now—the quarters of Prince Xhiva.

Luck within bad luck—Xhiva was, in fact, just one room over. Normally, the corpulent prince preferred the solitude of his private chambers, but today was an exception. He had stationed himself with the injured Felix, joined by the other summoned champions, Roy and Gustavus.

At the moment, however, his focus was entirely absorbed in a card game called Plump—a chaotic pastime Gustavus had introduced.

“Alright!” Xhiva declared, his voice brimming with overconfidence as he slammed his cards on the table. “I’ll take three tricks this round!”

Gustavus snorted, shaking his head. “Seriously? That’s weak.”

Roy chimed in, grinning, “Yeah, a prince should aim higher than that. Aren’t you supposed to be, like, exceptional or something?”

Xhiva furrowed his brow, his pride wounded, and stared hard at his hand of cards. After a moment of deliberation, he straightened up, a smirk curling on his lips. “Fine,” he announced with exaggerated grandeur, “I’ll take six tricks!”

Both Roy and Gustavus burst into mock applause, their enthusiasm dripping with sarcasm.

“Now that’s the spirit!” Gustavus said, grinning ear to ear. “Go big or go home!”

“You’re finally acting like royalty,” Roy added, barely containing his laughter.

Buoyed by their teasing praise, Xhiva leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug expression. He even rubbed his nose with one finger in a show of princely arrogance. “I’m glad you’re both coming to appreciate my greatness.”

The game resumed, and with every card played, Xhiva’s confidence crumbled further. By the end of the round, he had managed only two tricks—far from the six he’d boasted about.

Roy and Gustavus erupted into howls of laughter, clutching their sides.

“Two tricks!” Roy wheezed, his stomach aching from laughing so hard. “Xhiva, you’re terrible at this!”

Gustavus, tears in his eyes, held up the scoreboard he’d been diligently maintaining. Xhiva’s column was a streak of black marks (plumps)—proof he’d failed to hit his target every single round.

The corpulent prince hunched forward, his shoulders drawn up defensively as he tried to hide his frustration. His cheeks flushed crimson, though whether from anger or embarrassment was unclear.

“Shut up,” he muttered, though his gritted teeth only made Roy and Gustavus laugh harder.

Outside the room, the boisterous energy spilled into the hallway. Curious passersby lingered, drawn in by the high-pitched laughter and muffled jeers, whispering among themselves about what kind of chaos was taking place behind the closed door.

Xhiva might have been terrible at Plump, but for Roy and Gustavus, the day had turned into an unforgettable comedy of errors.

**********

Back at the forge, Niles wrapped up his conversation with Vulcan, the smith. He had placed an order for a customized weapon—a design foreign to this world but familiar to him from Earth: a halberd. Vulcan, who had been distracted with casual conversation and an unexpected camaraderie, suddenly asked, “And how exactly are you going to pay for this?”

Niles didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll come back tomorrow with a small down payment—and I’ll introduce you to my courier,” he replied confidently, flashing a grin that made Vulcan pause. The smith, caught off guard by Niles’s unshakable assurance, could only smirk and nod. “See you tomorrow then.”

As Niles exited the forge, he was certain Xander had been listening in from just outside. Without hesitation, Niles turned to the prince and said, “Xander, I need to borrow some money.”

Xander chuckled knowingly. “So I heard. You’re the first person I’ve met who’s managed to haggle with Vulcan and leave him smiling.”

Niles returned the grin. “By the way, how does the economy here even work? You know, just for reference.”

Xander raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You managed to barter without even knowing the currency system? That’s… impressive.” He relaxed his posture and began to explain:

* 10 copper coins = 1 silver coin

* 10 silver coins = 1 gold coin

He elaborated, “A castle guard earns about 20 silver a month, while a castle assistant, like Winston, makes closer to 30 silver.”

Hearing this, Niles couldn’t help but reflect on his world, comparing blue-collar workers to white-collar salaries. One revelation struck him harder than the rest—customized weapons were expensive.

“And how much does a prince earn?” Niles asked with a smirk.

Xander took the jab in stride, smiling faintly. “I manage.” They both chuckled, easing into a comfortable rhythm.

After a moment, Xander added, “Still, I’ll see what I can do. It depends on the strategy meeting later today with my father and our vassals.”

Niles nodded and then shifted gears. “Vulcan’s attitude toward you was way out of line. With customer service like that, he should be thrilled anyone even bothers to show up.”

Xander’s expression softened, his voice calm. “We all carry demons within us—but we must also remember the angels. That’s the balance we must strive for.” He hesitated before adding, “I admit, I took it personally. A lesson for me to reflect on.”

Niles’s eyes lit up. “Whoa, that sounded poetic!”

Xander laughed, the unexpected compliment catching him off guard.

As they walked, Xander asked, “So, where to now?”

Niles considered for a moment before answering, “You’ll make a great king, Xander. I’m sure of it.” The sincerity in his voice left Xander momentarily stunned.

“Anyway,” Niles continued, grinning, “I have no idea where to go next. Got any suggestions?”

Xander pondered the question before offering, “Perhaps the Adventurers’ Guild?”

It was as though he had struck gold. Niles’s face lit up. “Perfect! I didn’t even know you had guilds. Let’s go!”

With a shared sense of purpose, they headed toward their next destination.

Little did Niles and Xander know though. The Xargian guard known as Lion, after tirelessly hunting for Xhiva, had just overheard the prince’s unmistakably loud voice echoing down the hallway during their card game. The commotion outside the room, fueled by curious onlookers trying to eavesdrop, only added to the noise.

Lion didn’t hesitate. He shoved the lingering spectators aside with little effort, clearing a path for himself. Without a moment’s pause, he raised his gauntleted fist and pounded hard on the door, the sound reverberating like a command.