Rowan oscillated between disbelief, mild dread, and utter elation as he left the mage tower. Things had gone unexpectedly well with Tamara, and the novel feeling of mana swirling around in his chest was evidence of that.

He had so much more of the energy to work with all of a sudden, it was sort of ridiculous. The sensation wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, but it was almost overwhelming. Newfound power aside, he had other things to consider. Most notably, the feelings he was now interpreting from the shifty old mage.

There was nothing alarming, but the smug bite of her satisfaction was more than a little discomforting. Rowan also felt more than just a little vindication from her, which was not an emotion he’d expected to feel.

There was something there. Something he wasn’t fully understanding, even though he now had a literal direct line to the woman’s innermost feelings.

Rowan was so distracted by his musings as he entered his manor that he nearly walked straight into the princess. She was waiting for him with a stormy expression on her face.

“Ah, I apologize,” Rowan said, already dreading whatever their interaction would lead to. “I assume you are waiting for Blake, right? He’s probably not going to be back for a couple more hours.”

That was an understatement, but Rowan didn’t care. If the woman chose to haunt the halls waiting for her fiancé to return, it wasn’t his problem.

As he went to go past her, however, she made her determination clear. She was waiting to bother him.

“I’m not waiting for Blake. I’m still happy to spend time with him — even with his ridiculous insistence on sticking with that party you introduced him to — but the reason I stayed is because we need to talk.”

Rowan’s first impulse was to make a hasty excuse and make a run for it. That’s also what his second and third impulses were. Unfortunately, after looking the princess in the eye, he got the feeling it wouldn’t work.

She looked oddly composed and determined. Her usual arrogance and empty bluster were gone, and the only thing left reflected in her eyes was a steely sort of spirit that he’d never associated with her before.

“Fine. Let’s talk.” He was annoyed at being cornered, but there was really nothing he could say.

They walked under a tense silence to a small, nearly forgotten library. It was one of the manor’s designated meeting rooms, which supposedly made it ‘safer’ than the rest of the house even if he still didn’t understand why.

As they sat down at opposite sides of the table, he watched as her resolve began to crumble.

“I’m listening.” Rowan’s voice was the perfect blend between bored and obnoxious. As he was hoping, it made her sit up straight in her chair.

It still took her a couple of moments to get the words out.

“Blake trusts you, for some reason,” she opened, her tone tinged with more than a little bitterness, “and I have come to accept that. This means that we need to… work together.”

Rowan’s first instinct was to taunt her again. He chose to be better than that, just for Blake. “I’m… glad that we can move past our issues. It would make Blake miserable if we continued fighting.”

“Yes, quite.”

Another silence. Rowan sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Can I just ask why? Why do you hate me so much? Any why did you really want to talk?”

“I mean, you were supposed to be…” The princess took a deep, steadying breath. “You weren’t supposed to do better than Blake.”

“You mean, you were upset that when we finally met, I wasn’t some useless sap who couldn’t even reach Blake’s feet?”

“No! Yes! I mean, Blake shouldn’t have needed your help to begin with! That wasn’t the plan at all.” She slumped over in her chair, and a bad feeling took root in Rowan’s stomach.

“The plan?” The pit in Rowan’s stomach steadily grew more uncomfortable. He had a feeling that this was related to the king’s scheming. “Amanda? What plan?”

She winced and looked away. “Blake was supposed to be the competent one. He was supposed to be the one to kill the demon king. To rally the people to him. You weren’t even supposed to be here!”

“Why, Amanda? Why is it so bad that I’m not failing? Is it because of my patron god?” Rowan pitched his voice lower, keeping it gentle.

“The kingdom isn’t in a good spot right now…” Amanda admitted, still refusing to meet his eyes. “A lot of the original nobility is upset, and the peasants aren’t exactly happy either. This wasn’t a good time for the demons to reappear. It’s like — like someone is plotting against us. The king thinks so, at least.”

The king. Not father, or dad, or whatever. The king. Rowan found the wording very interesting.

“Are you saying the king thought I had something to do with it? Why?”

“Not you, in particular. However, it’s suspicious that you appeared right when the people could be roused into a rebellion with the right leader put in front of them. Most of the lower classes still worship Aristaeus.”

“And so he wanted me out of the picture, or at least as weak as possible.”

“That’s right.”

Rowan eyed the woman again. He would have thought that the admission would make her feel better, or at least less nervous. Instead, she looked even more on edge than before.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about? Nothing else? Because I’m really not upset. I mean, I’m not happy, don’t get me wrong. But I kind of knew that the king wasn’t happy with me already. Hard to miss that when he forced us into combat to the death on day one in the name of the prophecy.”

If anything, his attempt to reassure her made her look even more miserable. Rowan noticed her eyes and the way she was gnawing on her lower lip.

“The prophecy… it wasn’t real.”

“What?” Rowan was stunned.

“The prophecy wasn’t real. There was no prophecy.”

“You mean to tell me he just forced us to fight for, what? His entertainment?” Rowan’s voice had gone decidedly dangerous, which he realized a moment later when she looked ready to bolt for the door. “Wait! Sorry, just, I need a moment.”

Rowan focused on breathing, eyes closed. He rubbed his temples. He could practically hear feel his heartbeat through his eyelids. Slowly, his hands unclenched, but he didn’t even know when he’d closed them around his chair’s armrests.

He winced a little when he saw the damage his fingers had done, the perfect impression of his hand impressed into the sturdy wood. If he’d squeezed any harder, he would have shattered the chair.

“Okay, okay. Now, why would your father do that?” Rowan asked.

“Heroes are dangerous,” the princess stated quietly, still not looking him in the eye again.

Considering the fact that his expression was probably the manifestation of anger, Rowan didn’t blame her.

“Dangerous? You steal us from our world and force us to fight your battle, and we are dangerous?” Rowan half-yelled.

“It’s… It’s a pretty well documented thing, actually. Heroes often turn on the kingdoms who summoned them, and things are bad enough as they are. We need the heroes, yes, but that doesn’t mean we have to like them. Or get along with them.”

“So you mean to tell me that you don’t actually love Blake?”

“No!” the princess roared, eyes blazing as she finally faced Rowan properly. “I do! He’s the best thing that happened to me my whole life! He could have been cruel, or violent, or neglectful, but he’s not and I want to help him and you’re not helping with that and —”

She clamped her mouth shut suddenly, looking pale again. At least she didn’t break eye contact this time, Rowan thought.

“How am I not helping, Amanda? And you don’t have to look at me like I’m going to strike you down for your impunity. I’m not exactly a saint, but I’m not going to hurt you either. I don’t think I’ve ever been violent towards you,” Rowan said.

He didn’t tack on a ‘yet’ both because he didn’t want to threaten her and also because he was starting to believe that she cared about Blake.

“You haven’t been,” the princess admitted. “And you’re trying to help Blake. It’s just… you don’t understand. He’s supposed to be out there, winning. He’s supposed to have an army. Not you. Why do you have an army?”

She was starting to sound like a broken record, and Rowan was becoming more and more confident that there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“Why is it bad that I have an army? And why is it so important that Blake be the one to have an army?”

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Because… because that’s what the king wanted. He wanted Blake to prove he was the chosen of Sarina. To prove that the kingdom chose right. Your success is giving the rebels ammunition.”

Rebels. That was the very first time she brought them up explicitly, and Rowan could see the moment she realized it too. The flush of her cheeks, the panic in her eyes. Something told him the rebels weren’t supposed to be common knowledge.

“I promise you, I have nothing to do with rebels. Neither I, nor my fiancée’s family, for that matter. I’m just trying to do my job. I’m going to stop demons from killing a whole lot of people, and help Blake recover. I really don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Rowan watched as the princess bit her lip again, and he was struck by how childish she looked. She looked more like a chastised child than the princess of a kingdom.

“Is this why you tried to commandeer my army so many times? Why you tried to get them under Blake’s command?” Rowan asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was quiet, resigned. “He needs to rebuild his army and start making achievements soon.” To Rowan’s ears, she sounded desperate.

He leaned back, hand tapping away at the table as he contemplated things. She was desperate. Far too desperate for a princess who was simply upset about the state of her kingdom.

In fact, Rowan strongly suspected this whole situation wasn’t about the kingdom at all. She always framed those parts of their conversations as her father’s demands and expectations. She’d never once stated that she cared about that.

The only thing she seemed to care about was Blake.

“So… there’s something you’re not telling me. I get that the king might be disappointed. I guess I even understand why he was upset to see three heroes instead of two. However, you still need us to kill the demon king. Why the hostility? Why are you so worried about Blake? He needs to recover before he can be useful.”

The princess froze, her eyes shining with panic and briefly flitting towards the doors. “I…” She trailed off, breathing more heavily. If Rowan didn’t know better, he would have thought she was about to have a panic attack.

He leaned forward, and this time, his voice came out lower as he tried to sound soothing. “Please, help me understand. You know I care about Blake. What’s happening here?”

“I can’t tell you,” she whimpered, eyes wide and panicked. “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. I just, I need you to help him get better soon. I need him to show the kingdom that he can still fight. Please.”

“Okay, I promise. I promise. Calm, now.” Rowan rushed to reassure her, noticing the edge he’d driven her to. He felt more than a little flustered himself. He’d never been good at reassurance, or any kind of moral support.

The princess nodded. “I’ll do everything I can to help Blake. Everything. I don’t care what I have to do, but I’ll keep him safe. I love him. I want him to stay with us. We’re supposed to get through this, and have a family. Be happy. I just want us to be safe.”

There was just one problem with it all.

If she was so desperate to help Blake, why was she pushing him straight towards the demonic wastes before he’d even earned his class back? If she was so desperate to get him out there and racking up achievements, then there could only be a single reason for it.

She was convinced he’d be in more danger if he stayed at Rest’s Remorse and did nothing.

That, more than anything, was enough to send a shiver of fear down Rowan’s spine.

—

Calming a frightened princess was an involved affair, and Rowan eventually resolved things by dumping her in the kitchen. She was surrounded by plenty of desserts and a couple of servants to fuss over her.

The woman still looked a little shell-shocked and more than a little traumatized. She was nibbling on a cookie when Rowan finally made his escape.

He had intended to head straight to Olivia’s lab so they could discuss things together, but Henry tracked him down before he could. The man looked as poised as ever, but there was a hurried quality to him that almost threatened to break that composure.

“Lord Rowan, sir. You have a guest waiting for you. I directed him to your study, but you might want to see him at your earliest convenience, sir,” the chamberlain said.

Reluctantly, Rowan changed course. “Who is it that can make you so flustered, Henry?”

“The Mercenary King, sir.”

Well, Rowan thought, that would do it.

—

Rowan found his guest sipping on a dainty cup of tea that looked ridiculous in his massive hands and waiting patiently.

The moment Rowan opened the doors of his study, the Mercenary King zeroed in on him with uncanny focus.

There was an intensity to the man that Rowan had seen once before.

Typically, the Mercenary King was stoic, withdrawn. Rowan had the privilege of seeing his relaxed, jolly side while they were marching, but there was none of that here. Rowan had last seen this level of laser focus moments before the man led Rowan’s army in a charge against the monsters.

“Lucius, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Rowan hoped that invoking his name instead of his title would make the man relax. If anything, the man looked even more focused.

“I come to you with a request, and to discuss our future cooperation. I’ve given this a lot of thought and I believe that I’ve found the best way forward for us both.” The Mercenary King put the tiny teacup down carefully, then crossed his arms across his chest as he watched Rowan take his seat across from him, brow furrowing briefly at the cold, weirdly formal tone.

“I’m listening. I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help. We’ve fought together, and I know that you didn’t need to help us. That means a lot more to me than I can put into words.” Rowan meant it, too — but he did reflect the same frigid tone right back.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Lord Rowan. In that case, I want you to make me one of your [Knights].”

Rowan‘s world flipped upside down for the second time that day.

One of the few people aware of the full extent of his class and its effects was asking him to use that same class on him.

Rowan opened his mouth to ask questions, then thought better of it.

Lucius looked, for lack of a better word, determined. He knew what he was asking for. And if he’d decided it was still worth all the hassle? Rowan would not deny him. It wasn’t like the proposition was all bad.

“I accept. Whatever you need, you’ll have it,” Rowan said solemnly, then sent the invite to the mercenary.

The man cracked a small smile, relief and something else warring on his face. “Thank you, lad. Let me take a closer look at this.”

It only took Lucius a couple of moments to make his way through the menu that would make him a [Knight]. When he did, Rowan gasped.

A wall of energy slammed into him, almost making Rowan double over as his body creaked and shook. A sense of vitality, solidity, and resilience washed over every inch of his flesh. It almost felt like his body had ballooned outwards, only to condense back down to its previous size at a much higher density.

There was a secondary change to his mind and mana pool too. Both grew a little, but it was the speed at which his mind made connection and the speed of his mana regeneration that were really boosted.

Vitality and wisdom then. Rowan found the main stats of the man known as the Mercenary King surprising, but he wasn’t about to complain.

He may have gotten the evolution of the mind stats from Tamara already, but the boost to his vitality was going to be invaluable.

Already, he could feel that his body could hold a ton more energy. In response, Gluttonous Banquet’s own limits surged upwards, letting him save up even more energy for future use.

Of course, his soaring mood was somewhat dampened when the link between him and Lucius was finally complete, and the Mercenary King’s emotions slammed into his own.

Vindication, relief, quiet self-satisfaction. These positive emotions, mostly caused by Rowan accepting the man as his [Knight], were by far eclipsed by what lurked underneath. Anguish. Worry. Regret. Disgust. A gaping chasm of helplessness. And all of it seemed to have something to do with Rowan.

The hero could tell that much, clear as day. His eyes fixed on the Mercenary King’s, and he could feel the man willing him to understand.

There was something deeply, bitterly wrong. Lucius knew full well of Rowan’s ability to peek at his [Knight’s] emotions, and the man was doing his very best to encourage him to do just that.

“What were you hoping to discuss? Our future campaign to put those legendary demons down, perhaps?” Rowan exuded casualness and amusement.

The hero knew that they should be safe. The manor was home to more than a few epic tier individuals. The baroness herself had an assassin-based class and could notice intruders with plenty of advance notice. In spite of that, the sheer turmoil Lucius was feeling immediately put the hero on edge.

“Yes, exactly. I know that you’ll have to venture out sometime soon, Lord Rowan. The job ahead of you won’t be easy. In light of that, I’d like to offer up my own mercenaries as backup. If you’ll have us, we’ll join you so we can put an end to this demonic threat.” The contrast between what the mercenary king felt and what he said was horrifying.

Rowan swallowed, taking a few moments to parse his way through the Mercenary King’s emotions.

“Ah, I didn’t expect that. I hope you know I mean no disrespect, but I was under the impression that you couldn’t move without royal approval. The situation with Blake was, as I understood it, an exception. One made possible by the royal request to assist the hero in question quickly.”

“These are trying times, lad. Of course, we can’t always move only on the king’s say-so.”

Rowan felt each emotion like different ingredients in a dish. The bitter twist of a lie. The regret over its necessity. Then, heady satisfaction.

“I understand. I appreciate it, truly. Having you there to assist us will be a major boon, since I know that you’ll help keep us safe. Your abilities will be invaluable for anything we plan to do. On that note, do you have any suggestions on the way we should approach hunting down the demons?”

“You can leave your back to me. If you hand over command of your army, I’ll keep any lower-level threats from intervening in your battle against the enemy leaders. It’ll keep you fresh and ready to face foes to assure your victory.”

Bitterness, again. A sour taste, along with a pinch of horror.

“That does sound good. However, I would like to remind you that my party won’t be alone. We’ll have Blake and his party with us as well. Are you sure you want to leave us to deal with the leaders of the demonic army while you take care of everything else on your own?” Rowan tested the man.

A swelling wave of disgust. Of anger and supreme annoyance. All of it tinged by vicious self-satisfaction. “Yes, of course. I know how close you and Hero Blake are, so it doesn’t surprise me to hear you’ll be fighting side by side. Regardless, I’d still like to do my part.”

“Of course — We’ll be happy to have you. Your speed boosts alone will be invaluable. I see no issues with placing my soldiers in your hands, so I’m looking forward to what else you can do with them.”

Amusement, now, and a curl of relief.

“Thank you for your trust, Lord Rowan. I look forward to seeing the demonic forces shattered. I’m confident that you’ll be facing the demon king in no time, so we can bring a close to this crisis as quickly as possible.”

Annoyance, disbelief, resignation.

“Thank you for your sincere trust in my abilities. I’m sure that my new epic tier class will allow us to make it through this unscathed. After all, I’ve finally caught up to my peers. That has to count for something, right?” A plastic smile slowly crept up Rowan’s face, stopping just before his eyes.

Lucius answered in kind, a swirl of pride and worry coming through their bond. “Then I’ll leave you to continue making preparations. I believe it won’t take much longer for you to be ready to rout the demons, then?”

“Correct. We need several more weeks, but that will pass in no time. I’m sure you’ll be impressed by all the progress we’ve made by then.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me, my lord?” The mercenary king gestured at the door, and Rowan readily nodded.

“Go ahead. Contact me at any time if you need assistance to prepare. Potions are something I can assure you we can provide, at the very least. At superlative quality, too. My fiancée has been hard at work so even the weakest of our soldiers have the best chances of survival possible.”

That, at least, wasn’t double speak. Olivia had devoted a stunning amount of time and effort to making the most of her epic alchemist class. While it was highly geared towards combat, it still let her surpass her past accomplishments as an alchemist.

“Thank you, I will keep that in mind.” The Mercenary King nodded, and then he was finally gone.

Rowan immediately collapsed in his chair, a tired sigh escaping his lips as he placed his hands on his face. If his chat with the princess wasn’t enough, then Lucius’s visit was the final nail in the coffin.

The Kingdom of Rhys was not their friend.

He’d known, or at least suspected that, for a very long time. The question that gnawed at him was the why of it all.

Why be hostile to your own summoned heroes from the start? Why try to sabotage the people who are supposed to help you protect your kingdom? Why make a potential enemy where you could have had a valuable ally?

Rowan didn’t know, but he resolved himself to find out.

Once the demon king was dead, the king was next in his crosshairs. And he really didn’t care what Blake’s princess had to say about that.