A few days had passed, and despite asking around, Lance and I hadn’t had any luck finding the redheaded girl, or as I liked to call her, “Claw-girl.” We had tried asking the locals at Vermilion Post—mostly rough-looking hunters, soldiers, and drifters who weren’t particularly keen on conversation. A few of them had seen her, but none seemed to know where she was at any particular moment.
Lance, not surprisingly, wasn’t too thrilled about the search. “We don’t really need her,” he said for the third time that day as we walked through the crowded post. “She could be a hindrance. We’re doing fine on our own.”
“Sure,” I said, scanning the faces of people around us. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have another pair of claws to practice against, right?”
Lance shot me a look but didn’t say anything more. I knew he wasn’t a fan of relying on others—especially not someone he still didn’t fully trust—but I had a feeling Claw-girl could be useful if we brought her in. Plus, I couldn’t shake the sense of connection I had with her, thanks to the bond created by my blessing. I knew she was close, but couldn’t pin her down. Whether she liked it or not, we were linked now.
We were heading back toward our corner of the camp, a little secluded spot we’d claimed for ourselves, when I spotted a familiar figure ahead of us. Her hood was up, but I knew it was her. I grinned and broke into a jog, catching up to her.
“Hey!” I called out as I got closer.
She scoffed, clearly annoyed, and pulled her hood down to reveal her fiery hair. Her expression was a mix of irritation and resignation. “What do you want?” she asked, her tone sharp.
I could feel through the bond that, despite her tough exterior, she wasn’t as bothered by my presence as she let on. I smiled, standing next to her now, almost as tall as she was. “Just wanted to check in. How’s the new blessing working out for you?”
Her eyes widened for a split second before she quickly grabbed my arm and yanked me aside, away from the crowded area. She hurriedly pulled me into a more secluded spot near the edge of the camp, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard.
Lance followed, his arms crossed, clearly not happy with the situation. His eyes narrowed as he watched her carefully.
Once we were out of earshot, she let go of my arm and turned to me, her voice low but dangerous. “What do you want?” she asked again, her gaze briefly flicking to Lance with clear distrust.
I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. “We have an idea,” I said. “Something that might help with advancing Champion’s Physique. And we could use your help.”
Her eyes narrowed, clearly intrigued despite herself. “Go on,” she said cautiously. “But if you’re dragging me into something stupid, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
I grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s not stupid. Though we can’t meet here. Too many eyes, too many ears. We’ll have to do this outside the post. And…” I hesitated for a moment before adding, “You can pay us back this way.”
She crossed her arms, her gaze calculating as she considered my offer. After a moment, she nodded. “Fine. But you better don’t waste my time.”
I could feel Lance’s silent disapproval behind me, but I ignored it. “Great. We’ll meet later this afternoon, just outside the post. Sounds good?”
“Fine,” she said, her voice clipped. She shot one last wary glance at Lance before turning and walking off, her hood back up as she disappeared into the small crowd.
I watched her go, a satisfied smile spreading across my face. I knew this was the right move.
Lance, on the other hand, wasn’t convinced. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You better hope this doesn’t backfire, Argus.”
“Relax,” I said, still grinning. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Lance didn’t answer, but his expression said enough.
Lance paced back and forth, kicking at the dirt with each step as we waited in the woods just outside Vermilion Post. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows through the trees, and the air was filled with the sounds of distant wildlife.
“She should’ve been here by now,” Lance muttered, irritation clear in his voice. “I told you, we can’t trust her.”
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I leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching him. “You don’t have to trust her,” I said with a chuckle.
Lance shot me a glare. “It’s both our heads on the line, Argus. We’re risking a lot here.”
I nodded, knowing he was right. “Relax. If she’s got any bad intentions, I’ll know.”
He sighed in defeat, but before he could say more, a hooded figure approached through the trees. I smiled, recognizing her, while Lance narrowed his eyes again, clearly on edge.
“Let’s all take a walk,” I said as she approached, keeping my tone light. “It’ll be fun.”
She scoffed, her face hidden beneath her hood, clearly not in the mood for games. Lance looked equally annoyed, but I didn’t care.
“We’ve been thinking,” I continued. “Champion’s Physique seems to advance faster if one is ‘damaged and repaired.’ But—”
She stopped walking and cut me off with a sharp scoff, folding her arms. “So, what, you brought me out here to suggest we torture each other?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Not quite. But we do need an extra sparring partner.”
She raised an eyebrow, tilting her head toward Lance. “What, is something wrong with Mister Pretty Boy over here?”
Lance’s face twitched, clearly ready to respond with more than words, but I stepped in. “He’s good. Better than me, actually. But… there’s a slight inconvenience.”
She looked at me, unconvinced. “An inconvenience?” she echoed, suspicious.
I held out my arm to her. “Here, give me a little cut.”
She looked confused for a moment, then a slow grin spread across her face. Her hand transformed into those black claws of hers, sharper and more dangerous than mine. I couldn’t help but notice how lethal they looked, but I said nothing.
She moved slowly, clearly enjoying the moment, but just as she was about to strike, she hesitated. Her grin faded. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. Go on.”
She shrugged and gave me a shallow cut on the forearm. I flinched slightly, more out of reflex than pain. For a second, she looked amused, but then her smile vanished as she glanced down at her own arm. There, a faint version of the same cut appeared on her skin. She stared at it, baffled.
Lance stepped forward, drawing his sword. “Watch this,” I said, nodding at him. He made a quick, shallow cut near the first one, but nothing appeared there, and then, without hesitation, showed her his arm, where the wound had appeared.
“See?” I said, smirking. “That’s the problem with us sparring.”
Her eyes darted between me and Lance, completely lost. “What… How? Can you just copy and store blessings? What kind of unfair blessing do you have?”
Lance stiffened, clearly not wanting to reveal too much. “You don’t need to know, in fact—”
But she interrupted him, not backing down at all. “I damn well deserve to know if you want my help,” she growled, her eyes locked on Lance’s.
They stared each other down, neither willing to give an inch. I sighed, breaking the silence. “Fine. You can know, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
Lance spun around, incredulous. “A promise? Are you kidding me?”
I gave him a look, one that I hoped conveyed the trust he needed to give me right now. After a moment, he grumbled and turned away, sitting down on a fallen log, arms crossed, clearly frustrated.
I turned back to her. “Promise?”
She rolled her eyes but nodded. I could feel through the bond that she was telling the truth. “Fine. I promise,” she said.
“Good.” I took a deep breath. “The truth is… I’m a king—”
But she burst into laughter, doubling over with loud belly laughs. Between gasps, she managed to say, “You almost got me! You guys got to be the weirdest group of weirdos I’ve ever met!”
I frowned, irritated, and glanced at Lance, who just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than he should.
I sighed and removed my bandana, then peeled off my gloves, exposing the marks on my wrists and fingers. I pushed my brown hair back to reveal the mark on my forehead.
Her laughter died slowly as she stared at me, the color draining from her face. “You’re serious?” she asked.
“Dead serious,” I replied, my tone flat. “Now, do you want to stop laughing and listen?”
She swallowed hard, then walked over to the log and sat beside Lance, still looking pale. “Right. I’m listening.”
I explained everything—the blessings, their powers, the nobles after me—everything. By the time I finished, she was rubbing her temples, clearly overwhelmed.
“So, let me get this straight,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “You’re the rightful king of Helenia, the nobles are trying to kill you, you somehow got a blessing that lets you collect more of them, and you need my help because Mister Marquess over here can’t hurt you?”
I smiled, pleased. “Yes.”
She stared at me, then at Lance, then back to me. “You’re both crazy.”
I deflated a bit at that, but before I could say anything, she continued. “Even if I can hurt you, every time I do, it’ll hurt me too.”
“Exactly!” I said, perking up. “That’s the point. It’ll make Champion’s Physique advance faster for both of us. We can heal, so it’s fine.”
She sighed, clearly exhausted by the whole thing. “Fine. I’ll help. But meet me tomorrow—I really need a bit of sleep now.”
She walked away, leaving us behind. Lance turned to me, clearly still concerned. “What if she goes around telling everyone?”
I smirked, pointing at my left wrist. “I know she won’t. The same way I also know you’re not as bothered by her as you pretend to be.”
Lance flushed slightly, turning away, his arms still crossed. “Shut up, Argus.”