Niles knocked on the doors of the public bathrooms, his voice carrying an air of mock concern as he called for Winston. From within, the former court assistant eventually emerged, his expression one of utter defeat. “The eternal shame I’ve brought upon myself,” Winston lamented, his voice heavy with self-pity. “I’m ready to set sail,” he added, eager to escape the humiliation of shouting his faux bathroom emergency in front of a bustling crowd.

“Well done, Winston. Nice acting!” Niles smirked, clearly entertained by the ruse.

“Sir Niles,” Winston said with a tired sigh, “it wasn’t acting. Your plan made me so nervous I actually needed the bathroom.”

Niles chuckled, clapping Winston on the back with friendly force. “There’s a quote from Earth: ‘To confuse your enemy, first confuse yourself.’” His grin grew wider, more mischievous by the second.

Winston raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his face. “I’m sorry, Sir Niles. I don’t think I understand.”

“Good!” Niles exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious. “That means it’s working!”

Winston stared at him as though he’d lost his mind, managing a faint, “What?”

“We’ll keep confusing them until they can’t even fathom our real intentions,” Niles said, his grin unyielding.

“What?” Winston repeated, this time more exasperated.

Niles leaned in conspiratorially. “May I borrow some of your money?”

“What?!” Winston blurted out, caught off guard by the abrupt shift in conversation. Still, he begrudgingly handed over a few coins from his pouch. Niles pocketed the money with a nod of satisfaction. “All right, let’s go. We need to find an engineer before heading back to the Adventurers’ Guild.”

“But there’s not much time before the execution begins,” Winston protested halfheartedly.

“Then we’ll have to move swiftly,” Niles replied, his tone resolute.

**********

Meanwhile, Wolf and Elephant sat at a street-side vendor’s table, sipping a tangy fruit-and-honey drink with small spoons. The two Xargian guards remained mostly silent, observing their surroundings in shared exhaustion. When Niles and Winston reappeared, passing through the crowd, Elephant straightened. “Let’s stay close to them,” he muttered.

Wolf exhaled in frustration, too tired to argue. “Fine.”

Blending seamlessly into the crowd, the two guards trailed after Niles and Winston. High above, Squeaky circled like a vigilant sentinel before swooping down to perch on Niles’s head, signaling that they were being followed.

“Perfect,” Niles whispered to himself, his grin returning.

He turned to Winston, keeping his voice low but just loud enough to avoid suspicion. “We need to leave before the execution.”

Winston’s eyes widened in genuine confusion. “What do you mean, Sir Niles? Of course we need to leave—we’ve been sentenced to banishment! Don’t you remember?”

Niles nodded thoughtfully. “I think I overheard something at the docks, though I might’ve misheard.”

Winston’s worry deepened. “What did you hear?”

Leaning in, Niles whispered, “During the execution at the city square, there’ll be a signal. If it’s given, it’ll mark the beginning of a second attempt to seize the castle.”

Winston’s face turned pale. “We must tell the guards!” he exclaimed, panic creeping into his voice.

Niles shook his head. “None of them will believe us. We’re banished, as you said.”

“But why now?” Winston asked, struggling to process the implications.

“Because no one expects it,” Niles replied with a shrug. “Let’s finish our shopping, say our goodbyes, and leave.”

At that moment, Squeaky shifted from Niles’s head to his left shoulder, signaling that only one of them was now being followed. Niles’s grin turned sly as he thought to himself, Step two, check.

Wolf and Elephant trailed Niles and Winston, listening carefully to their every word. When they overheard the mention of a potential signal and a second castle assault, Wolf, being the faster of the two, broke away to report the intel. His steps were light and swift as he made his way toward the city square. The air there was tense with preparation for the execution, and guards dotted the perimeter like statues.

At the center of it all stood Dragon, the commander of the Xargian Elite Guard, her imposing figure unmistakable in her snarling dragon helmet. Beside her was Prince Xhiva, his crimson eyes scanning the preparations with an air of disinterest.

“Commander,” Wolf announced respectfully, dropping to one knee. “I bring news regarding the banished otherworlders.”

Dragon and Xhiva both turned their attention to him. “Speak,” Dragon ordered, her voice steady and commanding. “Are they causing trouble?”

Wolf kept his head bowed. “No, Commander. They’ve done nothing overtly suspicious, but one of them overheard a rumor.” He hesitated briefly before continuing. “During the execution, a signal might be given—one that could mark the start of a second assault on the castle.”

Xhiva scoffed, folding his arms. “Nonsense. That’s absurd.”

Dragon, however, narrowed her eyes, weighing the information carefully. “Do you believe this rumor to be credible?”

“I cannot say, Commander,” Wolf replied honestly.

“And why not?” she pressed, her tone sharp.

“I wasn’t nearby when they heard it,” Wolf admitted, shifting slightly, his posture betraying a hint of defiance.

Dragon’s gaze hardened. “Why weren’t you?”

Wolf avoided her eyes, his rebellious body language speaking louder than words. Xhiva’s annoyance flared, his voice biting. “Well? Answer!”

Dragon raised a gauntleted hand, silencing the prince with a calm but firm gesture. “It’s fine,” she said evenly, her focus never leaving Wolf. “Thank you for your report. Return to your duty.”

Wolf stood, bowing slightly. “Thank you, Commander.” With that, he disappeared into the bustling streets.

Once he was gone, Xhiva turned to Dragon, his lips curling in disdain. “You’re far too lenient with your subordinates,” he sneered.

Dragon paused, carefully choosing her words. “I believe that treating them as family earns their unwavering loyalty, even in the fiercest of battles.”

Xhiva’s expression twisted into a look of disgust. “That’s no way to rule. Fear is the only thing that keeps people in line. If I wore the crown, I’d command you to rule them differently.” His tone shifted, becoming darker as his eyes roved over her armored form. “And I’d have you serve me in more... intimate ways as well.”

Dragon stood unflinching, her voice as cold and hard as steel. “Then long may the current king reign.”

Xhiva’s smirk grew cruel as he began to circle her, stepping closer and closer until their gazes locked—his scarlet eyes burning with malice, her purple ones unwavering through the visor of her dragon helmet. He leaned in and spat directly into her face. “You look disgusting,” he hissed.

The square seemed to hold its breath. Dragon slowly removed her gauntlet and wiped the spit from her eye. Her voice was loud and steady, carrying over the crowd. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, my prince. The fault is mine alone.” Her calm demeanor quelled the unrest among the soldiers who had witnessed the assault.

The tension in the square began to ease—except for one soldier whose bloodlust remained palpable. Dragon’s sharp eyes found him instantly. “Excuse me, my prince,” she said evenly before leaping down from the wooden gallows and disappearing into the crowd.

Xhiva, seemingly unbothered, returned his attention to a nearby jar of smoked meat, muttering to himself.

Dragon swiftly reached the agitated soldier, wrapping him in an almost motherly embrace to restrain him. “I command you to calm down,” she whispered.

“But Commander!” the soldier protested, his voice trembling with anger. “He assaulted you! It doesn’t matter if he’s a prince. You serve directly under the king!”

Dragon exhaled softly, her voice filled with quiet authority. “Thank you for your loyalty, but I can handle myself.”

The soldier’s rage began to dissipate, leaving behind a lingering sense of frustration. His voice softened, tinged with pain. “He humiliated you. It’s not right.”

Dragon met his gaze, her expression resolute. “My dear Wolf, it means the world to me to know you have my back. But I need you to return to your mission—watching over the banished otherworlders. Ensure they don’t overstep their bounds.”

Wolf hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Commander,” he said, his voice subdued as he turned and walked away, his shoulders still tense.

As the square emptied, Dragon found herself alone, her gaze lifting to the sky. The sun hung high, beginning its slow descent. She allowed herself a rare moment of quiet, her mind replaying Wolf’s report. “Hopefully, it’s just a rumor,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city. With a deep breath, she refocused, returning to oversee the execution site.

“That’s no way to treat a lady,” came a gruff voice from behind her.

Dragon turned, her sharp eyes landing on Vulcan, the prisoner still trapped in the pillory. His rugged face bore a faint smirk, his eyes gleaming with a strange mix of defiance and amusement.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted your soldier—the one with the wolf helmet,” Vulcan added, chuckling. “He’s got guts!”

Dragon studied him for a moment before responding, her voice measured. “Sir Prisoner—”

“Vulcan,” the smith interjected, straightening as much as his bindings allowed. “And let me tell you something—a real man doesn’t insult a woman. That prince of yours? He’s got no spine. Insults are just a way for insecure fools to mask their crumbling authority. If I weren’t locked up, I’d give him a piece of my mind. Maybe even my fists!” He laughed dryly. “But, well, the times aren’t in my favor, are they?”

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Dragon exhaled, granting him the dignity of her attention. “Sir Vulcan, I appreciate your concern. However, I’ve heard complaints that you’ve been distracting my soldiers from their duties. I’d prefer your cooperation.”

Vulcan raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning wry. “You’re asking me to cooperate with my own execution? What’ll you do if I refuse—burn me instead?”

Dragon sighed, her patience unshaken. “I see your point.” She paused, her tone softening. “And you’re right about Wolf—he has guts, though he can be rash.” She bowed slightly, a gesture that caught Vulcan off guard. “I’ve heard you were among the smiths who forged our weapons and armor. Thank you for your service. I regret that it ends this way.”

A brief silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

“I believe in that rumor,” Vulcan said at last, breaking the quiet.

Dragon stepped closer, her voice lowering. “You overheard us?”

“Old I might be, but deaf I am not,” Vulcan replied, gesturing to his ears with what little mobility he had. “As a smith, you learn to listen—whether for impurities in metal or whispers in the air. It’s like baking, really, where—”

“Sir Vulcan,” Dragon interrupted, her patience thinning, “why do you believe the rumor to be true?”

Vulcan hesitated, carefully crafting his response. “Because it might help me escape,” he thought but wisely kept to himself. Instead, he offered a lie with a touch of truth. “Late last night, I was visited by two strangers. They warned me about my execution and offered me safe passage out of the city in exchange for weapons.”

Dragon tilted her head slightly. “And why didn’t you take their offer?”

“I didn’t trust them,” Vulcan said, his tone shifting to something grimmer. “And, honestly, I felt relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“To finally meet my family,” Vulcan said softly, his eyes distant. “I’ve spent too many nights alone with my thoughts, too many days forging weapons for the same people who forced us to bow to their crown.” He strained to meet Dragon’s gaze. “Were you taken as a child too? Forced to join the Xargian dogs?”

“Guards,” Dragon corrected firmly. “And not exactly. My family served as vassals to the crown. My recruitment was part of an agreement between my parents and the king.”

Vulcan looked down, his smirk fading into something solemn. “Nevertheless, I pity you.”

Dragon’s voice was steady, unshaken. “I’m honored to represent this nation.”

Vulcan exhaled, his reply barely above a whisper. “Aye, I’m sure you are.”

The conversation ended there, neither willing to press further. Dragon turned sharply and approached one of her soldiers—a towering figure in a snarling bear helmet. “Spread the word,” she commanded. “If anyone sees anything suspicious resembling a signal, they are to report to me immediately.”

Xhiva, his mouth full of dried meat, sauntered over, overhearing her words. “I told you, it’s just an absurd rumor. Utter nonsense!”

Dragon nodded, her voice unyielding. “Perhaps. But I’m ensuring we’re prepared for anything.”

On the other side of town, something unexpected but quietly anticipated by Niles was unfolding. Winston's father had laced up his worn leather shoes, bid his wife a brief farewell, and stepped out with a purpose. Niles's earlier warning about a potential traitor within the Xargian Guard weighed heavily on his mind. As a loyal subject of Xandria, he felt it was his duty to report this suspicion to the local authorities. His destination: the castle.

Upon reaching the gates, he was immediately stopped by two guards wielding spears.

“Halt!” one of them barked. “State your purpose!”

Winston's father straightened his posture. “I need to deliver a message to someone in command of the guard,” he replied firmly.

The guards exchanged glances, their stances softening slightly at the sight of the elderly man. “What’s the matter you wish to speak about?” one asked.

“There may be a traitor among the Xargian Guards,” Winston's father said in a steady tone.

The guards’ expressions tightened as they processed his words. After a brief pause, one of them gestured for him to wait. Moments later, a soldier who appeared to be the castle’s commander approached. His armor bore intricate detailing, his scarred face radiated authority, and his shining white hair gave him an imposing presence.

“I hear you have information to share,” the commander said, his voice gruff. “But first, who are you?”

The older man gave a respectful bow. “A loyal subject of Xandria, and the father of someone who once served here as a court assistant,” he answered.

The commander’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly. “What’s on your mind?”

Lowering his voice, Winston's father revealed his concern. “There could be a second attack on the castle during the public execution today, orchestrated by one of your own guards.”

The commander arched an eyebrow. “That’s a bold claim. What evidence do you have, and what’s your source?”

“Sir Niles,” Winston's father admitted, “the banished champion.”

The commander let out a dry chuckle. “That man? He’s hardly a reliable source.”

Winston’s father nodded in agreement. “True. His claim was based purely on gut instinct and some… questionable reasoning.”

“Humor me,” the commander said, crossing his arms. “What reasons did he give?”

Winston's father hesitated, stroking his chin. “First, the ease with which the enemies escaped yesterday—it felt like an inside job. Second, most of the guards are preoccupied with the execution today, leaving the castle vulnerable. And finally…” He paused, searching for the words.

“And finally?” the commander pressed.

“Because no one would expect it,” Winston's father finished, his tone uncertain.

The commander gave a slight nod. “Noted. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. We’ll keep it in mind.”

Winston’s father bowed once more before taking his leave. As he walked away, the commander muttered to his men, “An old fool, perhaps. But at least we humored him.”

Just then, a soldier came sprinting toward the group, his breathing labored.

“Commander!” he called out, urgency in his voice.

“What is it?” the commander asked, his tone sharp.

The soldier gasped for air before speaking. “We’ve received intel about a potential second attack on the castle during the execution!”

The commander frowned. “Yes, yes, we’ve already heard that rumor,” he said dismissively.

The soldier blinked in confusion. “Rumor? This came directly from the Xargian Guard’s commanding officer, Dragon.”

The commander’s expression shifted instantly, his eyes widening. He turned to his subordinates. “Authorize the use of the holy crystal immediately. From now on, no one enters without proper identification and clearance!”

The guards saluted and rushed off toward the castle. The commander, his tone now serious, muttered under his breath, “Better safe than sorry. Security is everything.”

***********

In the bustling city streets, Niles and Winston strolled casually, appearing to enjoy the day while keeping their true intentions hidden. The scent of roasted nuts and the chatter of merchants filled the air as they walked close to the towering Elephant statue in the square. This time, Niles leaned in to speak with Winston, keeping his voice low to avoid being overheard.

“We’ll split up now. Whoever isn’t followed will head to the market and buy a flag of Zairule,” Niles instructed.

Winston blinked, his confusion evident. “That’s your plan? Shopping?”

Niles let out a laugh, a bit too loud for their covert operation. He gasped theatrically for air, slapping Winston’s shoulder. “Winston, you crack me up!” Then, his tone shifted to a near-whisper. “You know what they say: the enemy of our enemy is our friend.”

“Are they, though?” Winston asked, raising an eyebrow.

Niles smirked. “At least for today.” His gaze darkened slightly as he recalled the chaos Zairule caused during their failed coup at the royal ball. “Stupid Snake-Eyes,” he muttered under his breath, cursing the first prince of Zairule.

Clearing his throat, Niles continued. “Here’s the plan: Squeaky will keep an eye out. If we’re both being followed, he’ll land on my head first, then on yours. If it’s just me, he’ll perch on my shoulder. If it’s only you, he’ll land on yours.”

Squeaky, ever attentive, chirped in understanding and took off into the sky. The duo parted ways, each keeping an eye on their tiny airborne scout. Before long, Niles noticed Squeaky flying toward Winston, signaling that only Winston was being tailed.

“Perfect,” Niles thought, pivoting toward the shopping district they’d passed earlier. His destination was a textile shop that appeared to sell flags.

Inside, a middle-aged woman with dark, curly hair greeted him warmly. “Welcome! What can I help you with?”

“Hi! Do you sell flags here?” Niles asked, flashing a friendly smile.

“Of course! Which one are you looking for?” she replied cheerfully.

Niles pretended to deliberate. “Good question. What flags do you have?”

The woman beamed. “Oh, we’ve got all of them!”

“Great! I’m trying to learn about different nations. Could you show me a few?”

She laid out six flags on the counter, starting with Xandria’s: a vibrant red banner featuring a yellow dragon surrounded by black flames along the edges. Niles admired it but moved quickly to his goal.

“How much can I get for this?” he asked, holding up a modest pouch of coins.

The shopkeeper counted the coins and frowned. “I’m sorry, that’s not enough for most of the flags.”

Niles feigned disappointment. “It’s my dream to own a flag as beautiful as the ones you sell. Is there anything you can do to help?”

The woman hesitated, then brightened with an idea. She picked up a flag with a yellow background and a green serpent coiled at its center. “This is Zairule’s flag. Honestly, after their betrayal at the royal ball, I don't think anyone wants to buy it. Did you hear? It was a massacre!”

Feigning shock, Niles gasped. “That’s terrible! I hadn’t heard.”

The shopkeeper continued talking about the event, her voice brimming with indignation, while Niles politely listened and handed over the coins.

“Thank you for such wonderful service!” Niles said, flashing a brilliant smile.

“That’s what we do here! Come back anytime,” she replied with a grin.

Tucking the flag securely inside his tunic, Niles stepped outside just as Squeaky flew down to perch on his shoulder. Winston’s voice echoed in his mind, courtesy of Squeaky’s long-distance communication skill. “Are you ready, Sir Niles? I’m waiting at the Xandria School of Architecture.”

Niles frowned. “I have no idea where that is,” he muttered. Turning to Squeaky, he asked, “Can you show me the way?”

With a cheerful chirp, Squeaky took off, leading Niles through the city like the world’s first GPS.

**********

Niles and Winston quickly regrouped. Winston glanced at the sky, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. “We don’t have much time. Honestly, we need to go.”

Niles, ever the optimist—or perhaps just habitually last-minute from his days as a field sales agent—shrugged with an easy smile. “Relax. We’ll make it work.”

They entered the building, and Niles wasted no time, approaching the first person he saw: a young scholar dressed in white robes, her arms straining under the weight of heavy tomes. “Excuse me, do you work here?”

The woman blinked, shifting her load slightly. “Well, yes. I organize books and clean.”

“Perfect,” Niles said, diving straight in. “I need to speak with one of your engineers—someone fast, creative, and, ideally, easily impressed. Got anyone like that?”

The scholar stared at him, processing the oddly specific request. “Uh... that’s a bit unusual, but…” She paused, thinking. “There’s Tesla. He’s brilliant but not very social, and… a bit gullible.”

Niles grinned instantly. “That’s perfect! Both the name and the gullibility.” He turned to Winston with a devilish smile, his eyes sparkling with a plan already forming. Winston, in contrast, paled visibly.

The scholar led them down a corridor to a heavy wooden door. “Here are his quarters,” she said before leaving them alone.

Winston eyed the door, then Niles, his expression wary. “Is this going to be more or less humiliating than the toilet debacle earlier?”

Niles chuckled, pressing down the iron handle. “No idea. But I’m sure it’ll be fun!”

He flung the door open. “Tesla!”

At a cluttered workbench, a young man around their age sat hunched over, papers and pens scattered around him. He was so deep in thought—or exhaustion—that he nearly missed their dramatic entrance. His wild gray hair stuck out in every direction, and he rubbed his bleary eyes as he registered the intruders.

Before Tesla could ask questions, Niles stepped forward, pulling out the royal brooch given to him by Xander. Straightening his posture, he projected an air of authority, grinning like a politician on the campaign trail.

Niles then begun his speech. “Listen, the name’s Niles—amazing name, by the way, everyone’s talking about it. I’ve been summoned, okay? From another world—huge deal, believe me. And together, we’re going to do incredible things, tremendous things. We’re going to unravel the mysteries of this world—nobody’s done it like this before—and take engineering to levels you wouldn’t believe. The future? It’s going to be spectacular. You’re going to love it!”

“Huh?” Tesla blinked, his gaze shifting to the royal brooch.

Niles didn’t miss a beat. “Tesla, I’ve heard remarkable things about you. In fact, no one in the court has been praised as much as you have,” Niles began, his tone dripping with conviction.

Niles locked eyes with the engineer. “We need you for an expedition—an extraordinary mission on the Flying Turnip at the docks. It’s fully funded by the Xandrian royal crown. Mark my words: this will be the adventure of a lifetime!”

Tesla’s tired eyes lit up, and he began gathering his papers. “You’ve heard that much about me? You really trust us engineers?”

“Of course!” Niles exclaimed, his enthusiasm unwavering. “I have tremendous respect for engineers. You might’ve heard that I work with them often. They’re brilliant, and frankly, they love working with me too.”

Tesla looked almost childlike in his excitement. “This sounds too good to be true!”

Niles sealed the deal by handing Tesla the money he’d received earlier from Winston. “Here, a little advance for expenses. My associate Winston—one of the finest court assistants I’ve ever worked with—will accompany you. You’ll have everything you need to prepare. I’ll see you on the ship!”

Tesla, beaming, practically shouted, “Yes! I’ll do it!”

As Tesla and Winston began gathering supplies, Winston threw Niles a look of pure exasperation. “Seriously?”

Niles whispered back, “What? It worked. And didn’t you say we didn’t have much time?”

With a resigned sigh, Winston muttered, “Fine. We’ll see you on the ship.”

Niles gave a jaunty wave as they left, his grin returning. “No time to waste—later!”

As Tesla and Winston disappeared down the hall, Niles trailed behind for a moment, chuckling to himself. “I can’t believe that actually worked. I should’ve tried this approach earlier. Let’s hope Tesla doesn’t regret this too much later.”

With Squeaky confirming he still wasn’t being followed, Niles redirected his steps to the adventurer’s guild. Inside, the gloomy atmosphere was unchanged. He spotted Polly and approached her with a wide grin.

“Niles,” Polly greeted him, her expression serious. “I spoke with Vulcan. He wants to be rescued, but the security around him is tight. I’m not sure how we can pull it off.”

“That’s exactly why I’m here,” Niles replied, his grin widening. “Is everyone here today who was here yesterday when we discussed their skills?”

Polly tilted her head. “Yes?”

“Perfect,” Niles said, leaning closer. “I have a plan. Let’s huddle up.”

Excitement danced in his eyes as he prepared to share his scheme, his enthusiasm contagious.