“What if there were a third option?” A bead of sweat dripped down Tom’s cheek as he made the bold proposal.

A single misstep on his part could result in the possibility of things going very wrong. And yet, Tom couldn’t help but yield to the idea that had been gnawing away at the forefront of his mind; a fascinating possibility that he simply could not ignore.

For he had too much to gain.

“Oh?” Zirel’s expression might have been one of intrigue, but his wary gaze firmly remained trained on Aleph. “Even if I was interested in hearing you out, do you think that your companion over there would stand for it?”

Tom allowed a tense exhale to escape his lips.

“Aleph,” Tom said, finding his tone surprisingly calm as he addressed her.

There was no response and rightfully so. Aleph would not allow her attention to sway while facing an opponent that hailed from her sworn enemy’s lineage.

He allowed himself a quick glance, his gaze only lingering long enough to catch a glimpse of her expression.

It wasn’t hard to understand Zirel’s statement with the added context— to an outsider at least, Aleph’s expression was a scrunched up mask of fury and rage. To Tom though, there was something more there, beneath the veneer of strong emotions. The companion with whom he had spent the last couple of months with, fighting and training together, had never looked so vulnerable before.

There was nothing he could possibly say that would convince Aleph to give up on her hatred for the Nottrakon family, the culprits behind the extermination of her Noble Lineage; her family.

Was the Longstradia Family just and righteous in its affairs? Or was it corrupt and selfish, acting only in the furtherance of their own interests? To Aleph, the distinction didn’t matter. They were family and they were taken away from her. Then she was hunted down, forced to overcome many challenges that no child her age should have been subjected to.

To try and convince her of anything else would be no less than a betrayal.

So he just had to…

“Regardless of what you choose, I’ll fight by your side,” Tom declared resolutely, his words spoken with complete intention to follow through. Fighting Zirel would both be a tragedy and a challenge that they might not walk away unscathed from, if at all— but he wasn’t going to abandon the comrade he had fought alongside and learned so much from after all they’d gone through together.

If Tom had been looking in Aleph’s direction, he would have witnessed a distinctly new emotion stirring to life in her gaze, somewhat akin to surprise and yet, far more nuanced; if the warmth coloring her cheeks in a light blush was indicative of anything.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

And then the moment passed by, unbeknownst to Tom.

“But,” Tom continued, as his gaze locked onto Zirel’s. “Let that decision be an informed one. Know why the fourth prince of the Syrelore Kingdom spends his days disguised as an infamous dungeoneer, feared and widely reviled. Prince Zirel, if you would oblige,” Tom cast his gambit, knowing that the moment of truth had arrived. He had done all he could, considered all the variables that came to mind and now… all that remained was the uncertainty.

A few moments of discomforting silence passed by as Zirel’s piercing gaze bore into his own, reminding him that the dungeoneer before him was very much a predator with bared fangs, a force of nature unlike anything he had faced before.

“That is a rather audacious request from one who has already so thoroughly pried into my past. Truly, you’ve left me with little choice but to assume even my most well-guarded secrets to be compromised,” Zirel calmly analyzed, his tone surprisingly devoid of any bitterness as he rationally considered the situation.

Tom tried his hardest not to let his emotional fluctuations show on his visage, as he was forced to come to terms with the fact that his advantage from knowing the mechanics of [Phantom Blade] had just been neutralized.

“Though I suppose,” Zirel continued. “I have little to lose by reiterating a story you are already aware of. Hm, I should grant the heiress of the Longstradia family that grace. Very well, I will indulge your request,” He replied after giving the matter some thought, his confident demeanor unmoved, even after Tom’s declaration of aiding Aleph unconditionally.

Would he have been able to maintain his composure upon being faced with two powerful opponents, one of whom had unearthed his closest secrets through some esoteric means that he had no way to identify?

Definitely not.

Perhaps it was because Tom had experienced Zirel’s memories first-hand, he could tell that the prince’s confidence wasn’t a bluff.

“Fine,” Aleph replied. “I’ll…,” She hesitated for a long moment, her grip tightening over the crystal sword. For a second there, Tom expected her to attack, but in the end the self-control of a Fallen Noble who had braved the cruelty of the world on her lonesome won out, if barely at that. “....I’ll hear you out,” She managed to croak out, her tone weighed down by the melange of conflicting emotions she was trying to navigate.

Aleph’s grip over her sword loosened and Tom could almost sense the tense atmosphere in the dungeon crucible falling by a few degrees.

Only the sound of Zirel’s overly formal narration was audible in the crucible, as he began explaining from the very beginning. From the delicate political situation in House Nottrakon that eventually pushed him into fleeing the Noble Estate and arriving in the Nameless District of the Academic City, Renovia. He spoke of the fleeting dream he had allowed himself to indulge in, the life of a common dungeoneer starting from scratch. Spoke the names of his former party members aloud, describing the little time they had spent together as the single most exhilarating experience of his life.

And then he spoke of the Elite Guard and how they had slaughtered his party down to the last man.

Much to Tom’s expectations, Zirel didn’t explain how he had managed to slay three Elite Guards that should have been stronger than him. However, he did describe the visceral satisfaction he got upon avenging his former party, the disgust at his eldest brother’s actions so evident in his tone that even Tom would find such hatred hard to mimic.

The story of how the Fourth Prince of the Nottrakon Kingdom became the infamous dungeoneer, Riven Blackheart was a riveting one.

It also left Aleph Longstradia at a loss.