“Looks like we have a winner,” said the queen with hungry eyes.

For once, Seth wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were fixated on his opponent, ready to react in case he made a move.

“That’s preposterous!” said the king. “Hector is a swordsman. Of course he couldn’t contend in hand to hand with that monster.”

“Excellent suggestion, Your Majesty.” Alastar stole two of the guards' swords and threw them towards Hector and Seth. ‘No idea what is going,’ he thought while pulling out his book. ‘But, this is definitely worth a closer look.’

“Are you ready?” asked the queen when Hector finally got up. “Begin!”

“Argh!” the hero cried as his stomach and intestines spilled across the floor.

“It’s because he doesn’t have armor!” Alastar 'thought' out loud. “Give these two some armor, so the hero may show his full potential.”

“Round three,” Helena muttered once the two were properly equipped. “Begin.”

Instead of charging, Hector began shivering uncontrollably while keeping his distance. His armor began to rattle and his sword started moving as if it had a life of its own.

‘Arm,’ thought Seth before slicing one of them off. ‘Balance,’ came next before he cut off the enemy’s leg. ‘Neck...’

“Wait!” Alastar stopped him right as the blade touched Hector’s skin. “Since we’re deciding which Hero is better suited to protect the princess, shouldn’t they fight with all of their powers? I mean it’s only fair.”

“… Yes,” the king mumbled. “My son wouldn’t have lost if he had access to his powers!”

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“Are you ok with this deal, Sir Seth?”

“Sure,” the warrior answered in a daze. His coping persona was knocking at the forefront of his mind, but this reminded him too much of his past. It was too similar to his original form, too similar to the bodies he had inhabited in some of his most gruesome lives.

“Last fight!” announced the Queen with some concern in her eyes. Seth got to keep his armor and sword, while Hector was healed back to full power. “Begin.”

Once again, the two warriors stared at each other. Momo was biting his tail in frustration, while Alastar was furiously taking notes.

‘Hector is at least level 65 while Seth should be less than 30. In this rushed human form, Seth’s control over ambient mana should be limited, while his opponent has full access to his skills and abilities. This match’s result should be clear as day, except…’

Hector was trembling. Even with all his power, skills, and equipment, he couldn’t help fear the man who beat him thrice.

“Interesting,” Seth mumbled while siphoning mana out of his core. “This is like… magic.”

Suddenly, his normal persona returned and his eyes regained their color. His body lost its tension and the expressionless mug was replaced by a cheeky smile.

“My love, has the match started already?”

“Yes… A minute ago.”

“Then, why is he standing there like he’s about to take a shit?” he pointed towards Hector.

“Seth, her majesty’s hand is on the line,” said Alastar while holding in a chuckle.

“Ooh,” he remembered. A moment later, Seth sprinted towards Hector, funneled all the mana he could inside his fist, and punched the Hero so hard he flew out of the palace through half a dozen walls.

“Why didn’t he react?” Seth wondered.

“My boy!” cried the king while running through the holes left by his son. Hector’s party members followed soon after.

“That settles that,” the queen shrugged matter of factly. “The walls’ reparation costs will be taken out of my stepson’s allowance, and my beloved daughter will be entrusted to you.”

“Can I not care for you instead,” said Seth with his most charming smile. Unfortunately, since his body started shrinking back to his original form, both his lips and his eyes were now covered by his trousers.

“Take care of my little girl,” chuckled Helena. “And, I’ll let you try your luck with me next. Fail,” she warned. “And, I will hunt you down. Not a single hair on my daughter’s head must be hurt. Understood!?”

“Of course, my lady,” said Seth while cutting down the pants into more suitable garments. A few steps back, Alastar was thinking about experimenting on his master while Momo was thinking about killing him.

‘Not a single hair,’ the squirrel sniggered. ‘My freedom is close.’