Reivan had agreed to far too many things in his lifetime, but this?

This was probably one of his dumber decisions.

"Remind me again why I’m doing this?" he muttered, adjusting the high collar of his traveling coat as he stepped out of the carriage.

Beside him, Sylpkx smirked. "Because you have a chronic inability to say no to interesting problems."

"Ah. Right. My tragic flaw."

Garm, stretching after the ride, let out a deep chuckle. "It’s not that bad. At least this time, we’re getting paid for the stupidity."

That was debatable.

The favor Cassian had asked for was supposed to be simple—take out a noble in the Kingdom of Nivaris, a political headache that the Reapers couldn’t afford to assassinate themselves.

Except, of course, nothing was ever that simple.

Because the noble in question wasn’t just any noble.

Lord Cedric Vael was a well-connected diplomat with enough ties to Nivaris’ ruling elite that killing him would be like throwing a torch into a dry forest.

It wouldn’t just remove an obstacle.

It would ignite an entirely new war.

Reivan had no intention of being the idiot who started an international incident.

So, instead of silently killing the man, he was doing something far riskier.

He was going to outmaneuver him politically instead.

Which was why he was now in the capital of Nivaris, dressed as an official trade envoy, walking straight into the heart of noble politics for a kingdom that wasn’t even his own.

Truly, his ability to make fantastic life choices was unparalleled.

The palace of Nivaris was beautiful, in the way that only places built with an excessive amount of money and questionable priorities could be.

Everything was ice-blue stone, silver accents, and banners that gleamed under the flickering glow of mage-lights.

And more importantly—every noble in sight looked like they wanted to stab someone.

"Feels like home," Sylpkx muttered, eyes flicking across the crowd.

Reivan sighed. "Unfortunately."

Their first challenge arrived within minutes.

A familiar voice called out from across the hall, loud and completely lacking the subtlety required for politics.

"Well, well, well! If it isn’t the legendary Sir Reivan himself!"

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Reivan froze.

Sylpkx raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You have fans now?"

Reivan very much did not.

Turning slowly, he found himself face-to-face with one of the game’s minor NPCs.

A blond-haired man in overly extravagant noblewear, his expression caught somewhere between genuine excitement and absolute mischief.

Elias Greythorne.

In the game, Elias was a mid-tier noble with way too much free time and an obsession with finding “interesting” people to befriend.

And Reivan?

Reivan had just been added to his list.

"Sir Elias," Reivan said carefully. "A pleasure."

Elias grinned. "Oh, the pleasure is mine! I must say, I never expected to meet the man behind so many delightfully scandalous rumors!"

Reivan’s entire soul sighed.

Sylpkx, of course, was smirking. "Scandalous, huh?"

Elias nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Why, just last week, I heard that you personally took down an entire mercenary army with nothing but a knife and a bottle of expensive wine!"

Reivan blinked. "…What?"

Elias sighed wistfully. "Ah, you’re being modest. But don’t worry, I won’t pry."

That was not what was happening here.

But before Reivan could correct him, Elias continued, far too cheerful for someone discussing assassinations.

"Anyway! You must allow me to introduce you to some important people. After all, one doesn’t simply walk into Nivaris without making a few strategic friendships, yes?"

Reivan, internally, was debating whether to flee.

Unfortunately, Elias was already dragging him deeper into noble society before he could escape.

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

The night was both a success and a disaster.

On the positive side, Reivan had managed to gather useful information about Lord Cedric Vael.

* Cedric wasn’t just a politician—he was funding mercenary groups on the side, possibly planning something bigger.

* He was ruthless, but his biggest weakness was his obsession with appearing untouchable.

* The nobility didn’t actually like him—they feared him.

Which meant Reivan had an opening.

On the negative side…

Elias had somehow managed to make Reivan the center of attention.

At one point, a drunk noble started calling him “The Ghost of the Eastern War,” which was horrifying because that was not a title he had ever claimed.

Sylpkx, of course, was having the time of her life.

"Who knew you were such a legend?" she teased as they left the ballroom.

"I didn’t!" Reivan hissed.

Garm, who had somehow acquired a massive roast turkey leg from the banquet table, took a thoughtful bite. "Y’know, I think you should lean into it. Act mysterious. Maybe start wearing a hood all the time."

Reivan glared at both of them.

They were not helping.

But at least now he had a plan.

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

The next day, Reivan set things into motion.

Instead of assassinating Cedric, he would break him politically.

Cedric’s power relied on his unshakable reputation. So all Reivan had to do was make that reputation collapse.

Step One: Expose his illegal funding.Step Two: Spread rumors that he was losing favor with the nobility.Step Three: Force him into a political misstep he couldn’t recover from.

It would take subtlety, patience, and careful planning.

…Or, alternatively, one well-placed lie in the right noble’s ear.

Reivan preferred efficiency.

And so, with the help of Elias, an overly dramatic misunderstanding, and a particularly aggressive game of political manipulation—

By the end of the week, Cedric was finished.

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

Cassian met them outside the city after the chaos had settled.

The Mercenary King looked genuinely impressed. "You took him down without a single drop of blood. I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you."

Reivan sighed. "I try to avoid unnecessary murder."

Sylpkx smirked. "I don’t."

Cassian chuckled. "Well, either way, I owe you one."

Reivan raised an eyebrow. "You owe me? I was under the impression I was repaying a favor."

Cassian’s grin widened. "That’s the thing about power, Sir Reivan. Once you prove you can do something, people start asking for more."

Reivan sighed deeply.

Of course they did.

Because nothing was ever simple.