In the next breath, Tyrek whirled his spear in a figure-of-eight so fast that it blurred, then snapped the spear into a fixed pose and lunged hard at Thomas.

The boy was ready for him, having sparred literally thousands of times with the man by now. Thomas’s skin was already coated in his invisible mana armor that he could conjure on demand. As Tyrek flew in fast, Thomas riposted the lunge with a firm block before somersaulting backward.

Tyrek flung a dagger at the boy’s face, but the lad was already gone, dashing to Tyrek’s side and thwacking his throwing arm with the side of the spear.

Has he gotten faster? Again?

Tyrek’s years of experience allowed him to predict Thomas’s next strike. The speed of the attack was so fast that he couldn’t manage a complete block, but he still deflected most of its power, repelling Thomas’s spear while receiving jarred muscles in return. The guard backpedaled, anticipating Thomas’s advance, right before the boy sprang into the gap and executed a furious multi-stab attack that Tyrek himself had taught him, years ago.

The attack was flawless in its execution, but it left Thomas overcommitted. Tyrek spun to the side, aiming a thrust at the boy’s unprotected flank. He put his full strength behind the jab, only for his spear to be knocked away at the last moment.

Damn.

Every royal guard in their dwindling group had been a previous assassin with a lifetime of experience. Yet for the last three years, none could land a single hit on Thomas. Tyrek had hoped to change that today.

Time to change things up a little.

He leaped back to give himself space and then flung a handful of broken metal spear tips to the floor. He had already checked using his own poor excuse for mana sight and was fairly certain that the vicious barbs should be invisible to Thomas’s perception.

Thomas heard the tinkling sound they made when they hit the floor and tilted his head. “What are you up to, old man?”

“Nothing you would enjoy, I’m sure,” said Tyrek, launching another dagger directly at Thomas’s face. He had to lure Thomas closer into the small field of jagged spear tips and some ranged attacks should do the trick.

The boy reacted at the last minute, wheeling his spear into an arc that knocked the dagger back in Tyrek’s direction, but the captain was already gone, strafing sideways and launching more daggers.

Thomas flung out an arm, conjuring a translucent wall of mana to materialize in front of him that blocked the daggers midair. Then the boy pushed his wall forward so that it toppled to the ground, laying directly on top of the narrow band of spear tips. He then strode calmly over his own mana wall, completely unharmed by Tyrek’s trap.

Dammit.

Before Thomas could step off of his fallen wall, Tyrek engaged him with a barrage of jabs, desperately trying to interrupt his advance. In response, Thomas merely launched himself into the air, his body stiff as a board and tumbling end over end, to land solidly on his feet behind Tyrek’s back.

The captain plunged the butt of his spear backward as he spun around but Thomas easily knocked it aside. Then the boy came at him in fury, drilling him with a clever combination of feints and jabs that immediately put Tyrek on the back foot.

The guard had one last trick up his sleeve and hurled a fistful of fine dust into the air. The dust was pure mana, ground down into powder form, and it instantly became an opaque cloud. With Thomas blindfolded and using his mana sight as his only method of vision, he should be effectively blinded. Tyrek wasn’t completely confident in the trick though, having been thwarted so many times by the boy.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The royal guard sidestepped to the left of the cloud, then earnestly pitched wild strikes into it.

Just give me one hit.

The cloud slowly cleared and Tyrek’s frown deepened when he saw Thomas’s body had simply … disappeared? What in the four hells?

Tyrek felt a sudden pain on his neck and froze.

“Yield.”

The boy had the captain’s own dagger pushed firmly against his carotid artery. When had he gotten that dagger? Tyrek was confident in the boy’s healing ability, but if he pushed him now, he had no doubt Thomas would make a bloody mess of his neck.

“I yield,” Tyrek said, sighing.

The old captain broke from the fight, leaning heavily on his spear, sweat dripping from his brow. “Nice work, runt. Not sure how I lost you at the end there. Thought for sure that mana cloud was gonna work.”

Thomas merely slinked off his blindfold, then stood there grinning like a fool.

“Not even going to tell me what you did?” said Tyrek.

“C’mon. Let me have some secrets.”

“Hmph, fine. But you owe me one last favor—I still haven’t tested this poison yet.”

Thomas froze. Tyrek’s experiments typically involved pain. Lots of it.

“Err, what do you want me to do, exactly? Just stand here like an idiot and let you stab me?”

Tyrek rubbed his stubbly face with his palm, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hmm, yeah, that’s actually not a bad idea. I was only going to have you drink it, but I like your way much better.”

He lunged at Thomas with the spear before he could get away. The poison-tipped weapon stopped about an inch from Thomas’s skin as his mana armor kicked in, emitting a glowing silver sheen about a foot in diameter. No matter how hard Tyrek leaned into the attack, it wouldn’t penetrate.

“Goddess of Fates boy, how many layers are you running at now?” said Tyrek, easing off his attack.

Thomas puffed his chest with pride. “This is with my mana armor at three layers deep. I can do five in a bind.”

“Well, nothing for it then,” said the grizzled ex-assassin, and he flicked a glob of poison from the tip of his spear straight into Thomas’s mouth and down his throat.

The boy immediately fell to his knees, gagging and croaking with a raspy voice. “Tyrek! Ugh, that tastes like bear piss! I can’t believe you just did that!” He choked and coughed, his tongue fully extended from his mouth.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like you’ve never been poisoned before. Just think of all the wonderful experience you’re gaining right here.”

“Ugh, it’s so gross. You know I have full poison immunity! Why would you do such a—”

There was a whump sound as Thomas’s unconscious form hit the floor. Tyrek calmly walked over and checked the boy’s pulse before nodding to himself. Then he tossed a bottle to Robert.

“Looks like that recipe should do the trick. There’s enough there to put a hundred wyverns to sleep. You might want to dilute it a little.” He glanced at Thomas. “Only a little though. The boy’s immunity is probably halfway through making this one obsolete too, just like the others we’ve tried.”

Robert nodded with a grim look on his face, his hands shaking slightly. “Six more months, I think. I won’t last much longer than that anyway.”

“He’s been ready for years, Robert. There’s little more we can teach him. Your boy is the most powerful weapon I’ve ever seen, and I’m damn proud of him. You’re delaying the inevitable and prolonging his suffering in this place.” Tyrek paused, carefully choosing his words before proceeding. “Frankly, you’re being selfish … sire.”

“FINE,” said Robert, allowing some heat to enter his words. “Three months then. Just let me cherish the time I have left with him.”

Tyrek raised his hands and bowed his head in a placating gesture before backing away. The king was understandably protective of his time with his son, but Tyrek saw things differently, with his eyes pinned firmly on the future.

In only three months’ time, they would execute their plan. Even if it cost them their lives.