Chapter : 13

  Ken walked in and threw his bag on the bed. He didn't unpack. He just fell face-first onto the mattress. Dust flew up into the air.

  "Cough, cough," Ken sputtered, rolling over. "So dusty."

  He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. He could see a water stain that looked like a sad face.

  He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. He checked his internal seal. It was holding strong. The ocean of mana was calm, locked away tight.

  "I fooled them," Ken thought. "I fooled the Guard, I fooled the Grandmaster, and I fooled the Princess. They all think I’m weak. That’s good. Keep expectations low."

  He yawned, a real yawn this time.

  "Tomorrow, I meet the team," he mumbled, his eyelids getting heavy. "I hope they are normal. I hope they are boring. I just want to sit in the back and read my comic books."

  He had no idea that his hope for a boring team was about to be crushed. He had no idea that the "unique" strays Finlay mentioned were going to be a headache of a different kind.

  But for now, in the silence of the crumbling estate, the world's strongest mage closed his eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of a potato farm far, far away.

  ----

  The heavy wooden door clicked shut. The sound echoed in the large, messy office. Ken Eliot was gone. Grandmaster Finlay had taken him to the Servant Quarters in the East Wing.

  For the first time in hours, Princess Iris Belmonte was alone.

  She sat there for a moment, staring at the empty chair where Ken had just been sitting. The chair was old and hard. The cushion was flat. It was a perfect symbol of her current situation.

  Iris let out a long, heavy sigh. She slumped back in her own chair, rubbing her temples. Her head hurt. It was the kind of headache that came from reading too many documents and worrying too much about the future.

  "Finally," she whispered to herself. "It is done. The Ninth Servant is here."

  She looked around her office. To an outsider, it looked like a storage room. Piles of paper were everywhere. Some stacks were so high they looked like they might fall over at any second. There were maps of the Empire, lists of monster sightings, and budget reports that were full of red ink.

  Most Princesses did not live like this. Her older sister, the 2nd Princess, had an office made of white marble. She had ten assistants to read her mail and twenty maids to bring her tea. Her older brother, the 5th Prince, had a golden desk and a view of the Imperial Gardens.

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  Iris had a view of the rusty front gate and a desk she had bought from a second-hand furniture store.

  She stood up and walked to the window. The night was dark. The moon was hidden behind thick clouds. Below, she could see the faint light of a lantern moving across the courtyard. It was probably Finlay leading Ken to his room.

  "Did I make a mistake?" she asked the glass window.

  It was a fair question. She had just recruited a commoner. Not a soldier. Not a mage from a famous academy. Not a mercenary with a reputation for killing. She had recruited Ken Eliot, a boy who looked like he wanted to sleep for a hundred years.

  She remembered Finlay’s face when she first told him to bring Ken. The Grandmaster had looked confused. He had argued with her.

  "Princess," Finlay had said, "We need power. Your brothers are hiring dragonslayers. Your sisters are recruiting archmages. We cannot win the Succession War with a boy who carries instant noodles in his bag."

  Finlay was practical. He was a warrior. To him, strength was measured in muscles and mana. He wanted someone who could smash rocks with their bare hands.

  But Iris saw the world differently.

  She turned away from the window and walked over to a large map pinned to the wall. It showed the Belmontia Empire. There were twenty-one flags pinned to it, representing the twenty-one Royals fighting for the throne.

  Her flag, the number 13, was small. It was surrounded by enemies.

  "Everyone thinks this war is about power," Iris thought. "They think the person with the biggest fireball or the sharpest sword will become the Emperor. They are wrong."

  She touched the map. She knew the history of her family. The Belmontia Empire was built on blood, but it could only survive on trust. If the new Emperor was a tyrant who only knew how to destroy, the country would fall apart. The people were tired. The commoners were scared. They didn't need a monster on the throne. They needed a human being.

  That was the problem. The Succession War turned people into monsters. To win points, the Princes had to be ruthless. They had to sacrifice their morals. They had to view their servants as tools, not people.

  Iris refused to do that.

  "I need a team that is strong," she whispered. "But more than that, I need a team that is good. I need people who won't lose their souls in this game."

  She walked back to her desk and picked up a file. It was Ken’s file. There was a photo of him attached to the front. In the picture, his tie was crooked, his hair was messy, and he had a blank, bored expression on his face. He looked completely unthreatening. He looked like the kind of person who would apologize to a table if he bumped into it.

  Anyone else would look at this picture and see a weakling. They would see a "zero."

  But Iris smiled. It was a small, sad smile.

  "They don't know what I saw," she said softly.

  She closed her eyes. The dark, gloomy office faded away. The smell of old paper and dust disappeared. In her mind, she traveled back to that afternoon three days ago.

  The heat returned. The noise returned.

  She remembered the Iron Rose District. She had been there in disguise. She wasn't wearing her royal clothes. She had worn a simple brown cloak, hiding her silver hair under a hood. She wanted to see the people. She wanted to see how the commoners lived.

  Instead, she had seen fear.

  She remembered the crowd screaming for her brother, the 7th Prince. She remembered the flashy cars and the golden flags. It was a display of power. It was meant to make the people feel small.

  And then, she remembered the incident.

  The memory was so clear it felt like it was happening right now. The sun was setting, casting long shadows on the street. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and engine exhaust.

  "That was the moment," Iris thought. "That was the moment I found my Ninth Servant."

  She opened her eyes again, looking at the dark ceiling of her office. The doubt in her chest began to fade.