Despite my large, comfortable bed in the palace, I found myself unable to sleep, thoughts about the reformations I was attempting to make rolling around in my head. In particular, I was struggling with how to better utilize the Church and the healers in the Kingdom, and how to make sure we could reduce the cost of healing and creating more access without putting the healers at risk.

Learning and using healing magic safely had been trivially easy for me. I had direct access to my information, specifically HP and MP, and I had controlled for the amount of harm I was healing when I first learned it. I had also self-healed, and with so little damage, that made it practically impossible for me to die while learning the skill, as I was recovering my own health with my magic. Even if I had over-burned my MP to the point where I was spending HP, it was being recovered by the same spell.

Did priests self-heal? How did they learn, initially? I would have to ask and get more information, now that I was working with the Church instead of maintaining a full barrier of separation, concerned about being labeled a heretic.

If they did not already, self-healing was a good way to teach new priests, although it did require a bit of self-harm in a controlled setting in order to manage it. Otherwise, they would have to wait for a natural injury, and it would have to be minor enough that they only required a small amount of healing.

Beyond acquiring the spell, the danger to priests was not having a clear idea of how much MP they could afford to spend, not knowing their limits, and attempting to heal severe damage on other people, to the point of putting themselves at risk. I was fairly certain trained healers would fairly quickly come to understand their limits and only cast enough healing that they could manage, and more severe injuries probably required several healers casting smaller heals together to save the patient.

Part of the reason the cost of healing was so high was the risk to and therefore rarity of healers. If I could make healing safer, then the Kingdom could train more, and all that was needed to make it safer was a bit of information. Knowledge was power.

I got out of bed and moved to an area where I could do some work, pulling out a gold coin from my inventory, as well as my 8-point magic circle and my slate to start taking notes as I deliberated the best way to make what I imagined a reality.

3-point magic was information magic, and I had already used it to create enchantments when I had experimented in the past. I was a little concerned about sending 3-point magic out into the world, at least in a way that could lead others to discovering how to use it. Knowledge was power, but that was a double-edged sword, or possibly a nuclear warhead. I had no idea how widespread 3-point magic might unintentionally change things for the Kingdom, and I was busy enough already with the changes I was making intentionally.

That was why I had only ever dared make 3-point magic enchantment engravings in the north, with Ivar. Now that I had 8-point magic as well, I could more precisely modify the arrangement of elements, especially pure ones like solid gold. This let me bypass the need to do actual engravings, instead shaping the material the same way I had shaped stone magic circles as a child with 4-point magic.

Making my own artifacts was only half the puzzle, however. Most enchanted items displayed the enchantment clearly, as it was etched on the surface, and they could be read and studied by others. I did not want people to even see the 3-point magic circle, and especially not the enchantment control ring that encircled it. Perhaps I could obfuscate the control ring with script from my double-advanced Literacy, as not many would have that skill, but that was a gamble and I did not have 100 SP to spare on the skill.

The issue with traditional engraving was that it had to be done on the surface. Can an enchantment be engraved into the inside of an object? With my 8-point magic, it was theoretically possible.

To begin my midnight experiments, I magically cut the coin into a series of flat, incredibly thin discs. After sketching some ideas on my slate, I finally came up with a potential enchantment that could work for what I needed.

Unfortunately, what I needed was not just information, but a way to display it. For that, I would need 5-point magic as well, to create an illusory display.

With a 2-point circle, I believed I could create a magical circuit between the two, using the information from a 3-point enchantment to feed a 5-point enchantment, but getting the control rings right was incredibly tricky. My first few experiments failed, but thankfully, with 8-point magic, I could simply recycle the same piece of gold until I got it right.

I might need double-advanced literacy for this after all, I thought after the third failure. Maybe a more advanced enchantment skill, too.

Still, I had an overall good feeling about the project, and I planned to revisit the idea until I got it right. I would need more SP, though, which meant I needed to level up or plant some skillfruit trees near the capital to keep my supply intact.

I was still waiting to hear back from Rena after sending her a letter to know what was going on, but if I was going to be starting another skillfruit orchard and quadhorn barn near the capital, I would probably need some Guild help. I needed trustworthy tamers, which meant a proper Guild presence in the capital.

Comforted that I had the makings of a plan forward in place, I went back to bed for the night. There was so much to do, and there was always more coming at me.

* * *

“I’ve been challenged to a duel?” I asked. “Can… they even do that?”

“Yes and no,” Nodel answered. “The challenger has no legitimate claim to the throne nor any special circumstances that grant such a right, but they’re claiming that neither did you, so it’s a justified duel to claim right of might.”

“Who is it?”

“Some wealthy fool who was required to free a lot of slaves. He complied, but he clearly holds a grudge about it, and wants to return to the former status quo.”

“Is he strong?” This question was asked to Atlessoa, who I knew would have checked him out for me given the situation.

“He’s not particularly weak,” she answered.

“Oh, he’s plenty weak,” Nodel said, glancing down her nose at Atlessoa. “Maybe you just aren’t strong enough.”

“Want to find out?” the assassin shot back, the two glaring daggers at each other.

“Enough,” I said, glad I practiced my stately and commanding tone. The two fell silent, but I still saw a lot of side-eye. I actually would like to see a fight between the two, if I was certain they wouldn’t kill each other. But we’ve got more important business to deal with. “Should we dismiss the duel, or accept it?”

“If we dismiss it, he could drum up support and it could grow into a larger problem. If we accept it, it might set a precedent and you might be dealing with many more duels.”

“Unless you crush him,” Atlessoa added. “He’s strong enough that if you obliterated him, it might encourage others to give up the idea.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

That’s… harsh. And I don’t particularly relish the idea of killing someone ruthlessly as a show of force. Although the experience would be good, and I need the SP from a level… no, I can’t think like that.

“Grant him an audience. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.” And if not, well, I had ways to be intimidating that would leave more of an impact.

* * *

The duel had to be public, to avoid the same issues from reoccuring. To be fair to my challenger, the specifics of how I took the throne were, technically, not legal. It was important that I win this duel publicly so that it put the issue to bed.

My opponent was an older man named Giral, and he was a respectable level, but not enough that I was worried. Instead, I was a bit confused how he figured he stood a chance.

“No offense, Giral, but you don’t strike me as someone who could have won the Tournament of Talents,” I said from across the arena. “What gives you the confidence to challenge me?”

“You only won the tournament with your beasts!” he shouted, and a smug grin appeared on his face. “And that was how you defeated King Rugnor! In a fair duel for the throne, you cannot use your beasts and claim you have the right of might to lead!”

I turned back to look at the collection of powerful beasts displayed behind me, just outside of the ring. I had not planned on using them anyway, merely using them as a show of strength, but it appeared that Giral had made an assumption about my powerset, and did not believe the hype about my actual skills.

“My understanding was that your complaint was borne due to the freeing of your slaves. So, I may not benefit from the backs of my beasts, which I tamed and trained myself, but you want to benefit on the backs of your slaves? That hardly seems fair.”

“Th-that’s different,” Giral said, faltering slightly.

“I agree. The Velgeins you enslaved are people, like you or I, with thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams. They have the same right to life and freedom as you. Why not just join the Tamers Guild? You can build your wealth using tamed beasts, who would otherwise lead a harsh, mindless life in the wild.”

The Earthling in me cringed a bit at that. No one on Earth would ever have called me a vegan, but I did like animals then and the beasts of my new world, and did prefer to see them treated fairly and with respect, and that their deaths had meaning, providing sustenance for others. The lifecycle of animals in the wild was harsh, though, and I did believe there was an acceptable middle ground to be found in how they could live alongside humans. There were bigger, more obvious issues to deal with than the ethics of beast taming and animal rights, though.

Giral responded, spouting some nonsense about his right to his slaves, and I quickly studied the audience as I listened. A few heated gazes led me to appraise them with my double-advanced 3-point magic and ping Atlessoa with some quick telepathy about the names of those that seemed to be a problem. I could tell that, if Giral lost, there was a queue of people who would leap forward demanding their own duels.

I would have to break that will before it came to that.

“Fine, I won’t use the beasts. Any other terms?”

Giral smirked and shook his head, and Nodel stepped forward, announcing what we had decided about the duel. “The king has accepted the requested duel from Giral Pargusson. The duel shall be to the death, or until the challenger concedes, withdrawing his claim and accepting King Pilus Horuth’s right to lead our Kingdom.”

I saw momentary confusion on Giral’s face, as the addition of concession was unusual. Honestly, I did have to acknowledge the gumption of the man, risking his life on this, but he could hardly complain having a means to survive the duel.

Raising my hands, I stated my reasons. “A king serves his people, and to kill one of my own citizens would shame me. I will continue to fight until I am killed or until Giral withdraws, but I will not take his life.”

The crowd murmured, and I saw some of the parties I had been concerned about furrow their brows, thinking. Giral only laughed, and took a ready stance.

“The duel begins… now!”

I casually strolled forwards, to the center of the arena, closing some of the distance between myself and my opponent, who finally looked hesitant. Then I turned, looking away from him, and looked out at the spectators.

“A king must have the strength to be the shield between those that would harm the Kingdom and the people that he protects. If I cannot take a blow from Giral, what right do I have to lead?”

Hesitantly, Giral took a step forward, then another. He was carrying a decently made arming sword, as was fairly common in Horuth, and when he was only a few steps he sped up into a run, and whipped the sword down at my neck, taking the easy opening I had given him.

The sword shattered against me, shards of high-value steel skittering across the arena’s stone ground. Shame, it was a nice weapon. I had reached into its structure with 8-point magic and created fracture lines that would cause the weapon to fail violently against a barrier.

I turned back to him, using all my willpower not to snicker at his stunned expression. Then I glanced at Nodel. “Would you please get Giral another blade?”

As I turned back to the man, the dagger he had pulled from his belt came hurtling at my face. It sunk into my eye to the hilt, and Giral stepped back with a grin spreading across his face.

His grin faltered when I failed to react. “Ooh, sneaky. Well played.”

I pulled the dagger from my eye socket, then tossed it behind me. My eye was unharmed.

Giral’s face contorted as his brain ramped up into overdrive trying to figure out what had happened, before he pointed and exclaimed. “Illusion! You’re using an illusion!”

“Oh? Indeed I am. I wasn’t going to admit to it unless you caught on,” I said from behind the man, my knife appearing at his neck and my illusion in front of him disappearing. It had actually been a surprising on-the-fly challenge to create a gap in my illusion’s barrier to accept the dagger the way I had, but I was happy with the effect.

Giral had frozen solid at the feel of steel on his neck, but I withdrew my knife from his neck and stepped around him, returning to my side of the arena.

“You did know that I was also a mage, right? It was pretty clearly expressed at my coronation.”

The man’s mouth made some small movements as he worked to regain his voice. “Propaganda… but no, you have some skill as an illusionist. Still, your illusions can’t harm me!”

“Not entirely true,” I said, and unleashed a magical flashbang right in front of his face. Giral crumpled to the ground as he was blinded and deafened, screaming through the ringing that was likely happening in his ears.

I looked over to the side, where Nodel had retrieved a blade for Giral. “And could we get the man some healing? He can’t exactly continue like this.”

After healing and rearming Giral, the confidence he previously displayed had disappeared. I could see fear in his eyes, but he was determined to continue. “Fight me like a man!” he screamed.

“Sure,” I said, and lifted my hand. Light began to glow above me, and as it reached a crescendo, forcing the audience to blink or be blinded, I pulled a specially prepared blade out of my inventory into my hand.

The light faded, and I brought the blade down, leveled at Giral. It was a massive greatsword, a claymore on steroids, far larger than practical for most even when used two-handed, but I wielded it with relative ease with my double-advanced strength. I swung it lazily through the air a few times, displaying my control over the massive hunk of steel that was as much club as it was sword, and I saw Giral pale. “Ready when you are.”

I had to admit, showing off was ridiculously fun. The chatter from the audience, full of gasps and exclamations of surprise, put a large grin on my face. I had spent so much time hiding what I could do, but I was the king, and if I wanted to hold that position, people needed to know that I was not to be underestimated.

My foot raised off the ground, and I stomped it back down as I stepped into a stance, wielding the greatsword like it was a simple arming sword. At my stomp, I pulled the stone of the arena around me upward, jagged shards and spears of sharp stone arranging into a violent arrangement of promised pain around me, and the arena cracked and split in a jagged path towards Giral, who threw himself out of the way in fear. I lit my skin up until I glowed like gold in sunlight, my hair ignited into an inferno and my eyes shining like blue beacons of icy death. The sky darkened, and thunderous booms erupted from above as I whipped up the winds around us. My beasts bellowed from behind me.

“Come now, Giral, and whoever else dares challenge me!"

Giral was shouting something into the wind, and so I let it come to a rest. The skies calmed, as did my illusory presence, and I returned to normal as I heaved the greatsword over my shoulder and walked forward out of the mess of jagged stone towards the man who lay on the ground.

“I concede,” he repeated, trembling, and I nodded over to Nodel, who shook herself out of her momentary surprise to step forwards.

“Giral Pargusson concedes and acknowledges King Pilus Horuth’s right to lead! Does anyone else dare to challenge the king?” she declared, and I glanced around to see if the possible conspirators would step forward. It appeared that they had lost their nerve after my display. Nodel met my eyes, and I nodded. “Then let this be the last. All hail the king!”

The rest of the crowd, previously struck mute, erupted into cheers.