Lancelot has heard from the other Champions that figuring out what Jacob is thinking is impossible. They were, apparently, all amazed by the fact that Jacob suspected Nimirea. Yet, Lancelot, who among them all spent the most time alongside Jacob, has never once misunderstood the Leader of the Champions.

  In fact, he clearly remembers when Jacob asked Lancelot to research more about Nimirea’s past. In that exact moment, his Boss’s facial expression had told him everything he needed to know.

  Now, there is a very similar expression on his face.

  And Lancelot has found a fool-proof way to figure out Jacob’s thoughts.

  “Boss, what are you thinking?”

  Asking.

  Just asking the man.

  Something that, apparently, the other Champions are not great at doing—whether it because of pride or… who knows what Champions think, Lancelot reasons, feeling his stomach grumble.

  “An Infernal comes and attack me,” Jacob says, pensive. “Another one, apparently not even an Infernal, a Blood of Devils comes—a Sacrifice, they called him—and he shows off how strong he is to me. Yet, he doesn’t challenge me. But then, why would a normal Infernal who has a low chance to beat challenge me and the one who’s clearly guaranteed to doesn’t?”

  Spending so much time by Jacob’s side, Lancelot has also learned how to figure out his complex, sometimes luck-relying, deduction process.

  “So, Boss, what have you deducted?”

  Asking.

  Jacob is more talkative than he wants to admit. He loves explaining his deductions. He knew about his suspicions of Nimirea before any other Champion did.

  Jacob looks around for a moment and Lancelot is pretty sure he’s using some Skill to check their surroundings.

  “I’m pretty, my friend, that my status must have changed at the Infernal court.”

  “Isn’t that obvious?” Lancelot frowns. “What else did you expect?”

  “Of course, I expected trouble, right? Now, though, we’ll find out very soon if it’s big.”

  Lancelot, once again, has a flawless method to get to the bottom of Jacob’s thoughts.

  “Which is?”

  “Watch Iskara’s reaction,” Jacob mutters. “If she’s angry at this, chances are that she’s a great actor or that things are still manageable. If she stays silent…”

  Lancelot sees the young man beside him shake his head.

  “What?”

  “If she stays silent, Lancelot, we’ll have some problems in the future. And don’t ask me why for now.”

  “Why can’t I ask?” Lancelot frowns.

  “Let me be a little mysterious,” Jacob frowns back and scoffs. “You can’t know everything.”

  “Heh, whatever,” Lancelot shrugs and his stomach grumbles again. “Can we go eat something else after the meeting?”

  “Sure,” Jacob nods as they enter the same dining hall where Jacob met with the Champions after they all passed the Champion’s Trial.

  All the Champions, well, the ones who passed the Trial, so the old Champions, are here.

  “Jacob,” Vyrrak is the first to turn from a conversation with Orrivane.

  Lancelot sees much admiration in the Dragonkin eyes in a way that hadn’t been there before.

  I guess Vyrrak and Jacob are better friends now, Lancelot thinks. Does Vyrrak know something more about him? Why is he looking at him like that? He has a wife, right?

  Yet, Lancelot’s eyes are now firmly glued to Iskara, who barely looks at Jacob before calmly avoiding her gaze.

  Holy—

  Lancelot’s eyes go wide.

  Now, granted, he has no idea what Jacob means with ‘we’ll have some problems in the future.’ But she did react in a way that makes Lancelot trying to think what Jacob’s thinking.

  Iskara is a Princess.

  She’s an Infernal Princess.

  So…

  He spaces out for a moment before focusing again as Jacob gathers the other Champions at the table and he just stands back.

  The Infernal guy, Lazerketh… is an Infernal. Iskara—Princess Iskara—is an Infernal. She has authority, I suppose, over him… responsibility, maybe? Would she feel responsible if Jacob got attacked by an Infernal? And wouldn’t she know almost immediately, too?

  Suddenly, Lancelot seems to realize something and he has to fight his own face not to show it.

  He thinks that Iskara knew about this, somehow. He told me that if she reacted, it would be plausible for her that…

  Lancelot frowns.

  Plausible what? That she’s… against it?

  A Light spell goes off in Lancelot’s mind.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Jacob thinks that Iskara’s approved of this! Or that, at the very least, she’s fine with it! With her not showing any particular emotion, there’s a good chance that she’s not angry at what happened! Consequently, that means that she’s…

  Lancelot’s head starts hurting a little.

  But why? Why would she want Jacob to be hurt or lose his position? Doesn’t she likes him? The Boss does have his weird charms, I suppose. And yet, she wants him to lose the position? Is this some convoluted mating ritual?

  Lancelot hugs his chin with his fingers.

  If this was something Iskara did in good faith, I’m pretty sure the Boss would tell me. Well, he would tell me if he thought it was in good faith. Because he loves gloating about things like this. So, that must mean he thinks it was not done in bad—sorry, good—faith.

  The young Squire’s head is spinning and he approaches a waiter coming with food and snags a giant piece of turkey covered in gravy and an entire loaf of bread. He gets a lots of stares, even from the Champions, and Jacob himself facepalms at this scene, but Lancelot just gets back pensively to the back of Jacob’s chair.

  So, he thinks that she didn’t act in good faith. But why? Why would she not act in good faith toward him? He saved her life, no? So…

  Now that food is getting to his stomach, just to be instantly obliterated and absorbed, his thinking gets sharper.

  If this was me, I suppose I, personally, wouldn’t have any problems, but my family would. They would get very mad at Jacob—and I would feel very weird about that. If they were super-powerful-Infernal…

  Lancelot almost chokes on the turkey, his eyes going wide.

  He thinks she was ordered by her family to create trouble for him!

  * * *

  I look across the table at Iskara, smiling at her.

  She hasn’t said anything. This means the chances that her family was involved in all of this and she’s either accepting or been made compliant are very high. Of course, I cannot know for sure, but I would go as far as to say she’s not doing this willingly. If she was, she would try to dissimulate.

  “So,” I say, looking at the others, “the Headmaster just decided to make our lives harder. But, don’t worry, I’m sure this—”

  “Jacob,” Zibrek interrupts me abruptly. “I don’t feel comfortable being here.” She rises from her chair. “I’m not a Champion anymore.”

  “Sit,” I say, looking at her. “If you don’t want to be a Champion anymore, that’s your business. I gathered you all for a reason.”

  “I didn’t say that I don’t want to,” Zibrek frowns at me.

  “Then, don’t be shy about it,” I say. “I’ll help you and Boomgar get your spots back.”

  “Lad,” Boomgar says, “Champions are made out of their strength. If we relied on anyone of you, it wouldn’t make us Champions.”

  “Boomgar,” I say, “there’s a Cult of people who’d probably eat the heart of infants for each other—the Dark Champions. If you want to be a Champion and fight those people, you’ll have to accept some help. If you don’t, get out.”

  Everyone does a double-take.

  “Jacob,” Asterion says. “Given the situation, shouldn’t we be careful with our own?”

  “I am,” I reply to the Highblood. “I’m saying, if you two want it, we’ll get it.” I stare down Boomgar and Zibrek. “If you two think that in my books you’re not Champions anymore just because you lost, get out. This is the Generation of Legends. Have some damn pride.”

  * * *

  Lancelot feels very nervous at the way Jacob is talking to two people that he’s pretty sure could blow this entire room to smithereens. But then, when he sees the fire that was just ignited in the eyes of the two ex-Champions, he immediately changes his mind.

  “That being said,” Jacob says. “We have things to discuss. First of all, do you have any idea why the Headmaster is doing this?”

  The Champions turn around to see if anyone has a good idea.

  That’s a good question, Lancelot frowns. Jacob just mentioned the Dark Champions… he usually strings things along. Maybe that?

  “He plans to replace the weak with the strong,” Iskara says.

  Jacob waits for others to speak.

  “Maybe he wants to test us?” Kai proposes.

  “True warriors emerge from a thousand fights,” Asterion nods at that. “Maybe he wants us to become stronger and even if we temporarily lose our position?”

  “I guess the lad is going to tell us that is nothing of the above,” Boomgar smiles.

  Zibrek’s eyes, now, go wide.

  “Unity,” she says.

  Jacob smiles at that and Lancelot nods along, snatching more food that comes through the door from whoever organized the lunch.

  “Zibrek, would you mind explaining?”

  “As Jacob said,” the goblin girl takes the lead and explains, “the Dark Champions are extremely united as far as we know. We, instead, are splintered. We each have our own factions, political affiliations, and personal interests. Not to mention we come from very different backgrounds and have, for the most part, different characters. The Dark Champions, instead, have unity, they share the same purpose, they all probably have stories that are very similar to each other. They can all easily relate to each other’s struggle. So, based on Jacob’s reaction, my guess would be that the Headmaster is doing this for unity.”

  Lancelot sees his Boss nodding along.

  “So, the Headmaster wants us to get closer?” Sabrina Margrave asks. “That would be…”

  “Smart,” Orrivane takes over. “A very smart move. I’ve been challenged twice this morning alone. And I expect stronger and stronger people to arrive. A Champion’s spot doesn’t hold that much significance for most. But the Generations of Legend? Everyone knows how pivotal that is to any era. It means that something huge is about to happen, and that the Champions that are going to survive are going to wield unimaginable power.”

  “This also creates the perfect condition for the Headmaster to recruit way more students and induct them into the Academy, forging a new generation of Knights based off on the Generation of Legends. It’s probably the smartest move at his disposal.”

  “He doesn’t expect us to let go and turn away from each other, then,” Zibrek frowns.

  “I’m not sure I would go that far. The Headmaster probably considers us, to an extent, inconsequential still. We’re weak, barely starting off. He didn’t show anything that would have helped us figure out that we need to help each other. Our characters are being tested, essentially. And I don’t think he’d tear his hair if we don’t pass the test. I believe the Headmaster to be a much more removed character now that I initially considered. He cares about justice on a much larger scale than we’re currently considering or have experienced. It’s hard to even start to comprehend how that man thinks.”

  “Jacob,” Orrivane frowns. “I have something to say.”

  Jacob nods.

  “I was approached by a Dark Champion who tried to recruit me. A woman. A Void Mage, by the way. I told her to fuck off, but… yeah. I think this should be discussed openly if we’re talking about unity.”

  “I know,” Jacob smiles.

  “You do?” Orrivane frowns. “That they’re trying to turn some of us?”

  “Of course,” Jacob says.

  Lancelot from the side, almost slaps his head, recognizing his smile immediately.

  He’s bluffing! He had no idea! Is this another plot?! Why is he lying?!

  “We can discuss who the Dark Champions have approached at another time,” Jacob says. “There’s something more important at stake.”

  Is there?! Are they approaching us now?! Will they approach me too?! Are there even Dark Squires?! And why does the name Dark Squire sound so cool?!

  “We can win this game that the Headmaster is playing. And we can win against the Dark Champions too. I have a decent plan. But whether it works has nothing to do with talent and everything to do with what you’re willing to lose. This is not about titles anymore. If you stay here, you accept that you might die for people who are not your blood, not your race, and not your friends. If what you want is influence, or protection, or a clean legacy, then leave now and let someone braver take your seat. I am asking you to choose whether you want to stay small for the rest of your lives. If you want to be worthy of the Generation of Legends, this is the cost required of us. Sit here if you can afford it.”