Captain Tale stood before me, his armor immaculate, twin short swords resting at his hips.

  Two cloaked figures flanked him, their gazes sharp and unyielding. One wore a gold medallion that gleamed against his chest; the other, a woman, bore a silver one.

  The captain’s voice cut through the silence. “Well, let’s hear this supposed report about Leon. It’ll be the third this week, though not, I admit, from anyone dressed quite so… fine.”

  He smiled then, the weary smile of a man humoring a game he wanted finished quickly. “Oh, and if you could hand over Magus Kelv’s apprentice before you begin, that would be outstanding.”

  I smiled back, “no I don’t think I will, and I don’t think you want me giving this report out loud in front of all these people.” I gestured to all around me.

  The captains good humor seemed to fade some as he slowly drew his short swords. “I am ending the end of this game.”

  The soldier named Evan I had spoken to earlier spoke up then. “Captain he’s a champion; shouldn’t we hear him out at least?”

  Tale turned to Evan then, “Sgt. Evan, this man is a level 18, with a hostage and a man that is obviously a psychopath in rags given that he has been smiling at me weirdly this whole time.”

  Balt gave a little “oh man,” next to me, “that was my best smile, no reason to be hurtful.”

  Tale continued, “That little show he put on was probably a one of display to get in to see the duke and I don’t want to get the man’s hopes up anymore.”

  I’d heard enough. “Suit yourself. But if you don’t want to hear how Leon was dragged into an underground cavern, one crawling with monsters and the shambling dead, so be it.

  How they’re using those Blackfern bandages to poison this city from within, handing them out to nearly everyone.

  How an army, its exact location now lost to me, is already on the move, likely marching this way. Fine. Your choice.”

  I shrugged. But Tale had stopped talking and the other two apprentices had stopped with their smirks and were now looking at me intensely.

  The man with the golden medallion twitched, his hand shifting toward his side. I held my ground.

  “Look, I’m here to help you, as strange as that sounds. I even have a system quest to corroborate most of my tale…”

  I smirked at my own cleverness. “Tale.”

  Balt, catching the thought, snickered.

  “Tale, Tale. That was good.”

  “I know, right? I wasn’t sure at first. Thought it might be too corny. But then I just went for it, and it felt right.”

  “Your banter’s definitely improving,” Balt said. “But next time, I get to do the back?and?forth. I need my reps too.”

  I nodded sagely. “There’s no substitute for real?time practice, but...”

  “Oh, will you two shut up,” the golden?medallion man cut in, his voice sharp and nasally.

  I used Identify.

  My attention turned to the mana coalescing in Byron’s hands, crackling with intent.

  “What’s wrong? Afraid I’ll tell the captain that your master is likely behind Leon’s disappearance, and an undead army is about to appear on our doorstep?” I asked with a smirk on my face.

  Byron’s face twisted. He raised his hands and screamed, “Die!”

  Before I could react, Captain Tale was there. With a single, precise stroke, he severed the mage’s hand.

  The silver?medallion apprentice spun toward us, hurling a fireball to shield her companion.

  I Flash?stepped in front of her, driving a fist into her gut. She crumpled, clutching her stomach.

  Balt raised a force shield, the fireball ricocheting harmlessly away in a burst of sparks.

  Captain Tale stepped in, his gauntleted fist crashing against Byron’s skull. The mage dropped, unconscious, blood from his severed wrist spattering across the pristine white stone.

  “Sgt. Evan, fetch a mana collar and shackles.” Tale turned to me then, his expression unreadable. “It seems you’ll be getting an audience with the duke after all.”

  The collars and shackles were secured, and a dark bandage wrapped tightly around the stump of Byron’s hand, staunching the bleeding.

  Captain Tale turned to us. “Your names?” We gave them, and without another word he led us through the gate.

  The Duke’s estate rose before us. A hybrid of manor and fortress. White marble walls gleamed in the sunlight, balconies jutting out like watchful eyes over the grounds. Statues lined the walkways, their stone faces stern and timeless, while fountains whispered softly in the courtyards. Trees dotted the landscape, their branches swaying in the breeze, but the serenity was undercut by the looming presence of fortifications. Guard towers punctuated the walls, and archers stationed above saluted Tale as we passed.

  The captain walked just ahead, his stride measured, his presence commanding. As we drew closer to the great doors of the manor, I finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at me.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “What changed your mind?”

  Tale slowed, glancing back over his shoulder. “You mean why I cut off Byron’s hand and decided to bring you before the Duke?”

  “Yes,” I said flatly.

  He exhaled through his nose, a sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. “I’ve known Byron for years. He’s always been a monotone stick in the mud, always predictable, dull. But for him to lash out at you after only a few words? That was no ordinary anger. Something’s definitely off.”

  “I just told you the truth was all,” I said.

  Tale grunted, turning back toward the looming doors.

  “We’ll see. The Duke will hear your tale in full, and then he will decide.”

  We stepped through the front entrance and were met by a man with an extravagantly styled mustache. His eyes widened at the sight of the battered apprentices, but he quickly composed himself.

  “Where is the Duke, Baxter?” Tale asked.

  “In his study, Captain. He requested not to be disturbed." Said Baxter.

  “He will want to be disturbed for this.” Replied Tale.

  Without slowing, Tale continued forward. Baxter fell in beside us, wringing his hands before insisting he run ahead to announce our arrival. Tale gave a curt nod, and the older man hurried down the vast hallway, his footsteps echoing against marble floors and high vaulted ceilings.

  The manor was everything one might expect of a duke’s estate, grand, imposing, and steeped in history. Along the hallway, suits of armor stood sentinel, each forged in a different style, their polished surfaces catching the torchlight. Paintings lined the walls: scenes of bloody battles, triumphant hunts, and noble processions, their colors vivid against the pale stone.

  At the corridor’s end hung a portrait of the Duke and his wife, their expressions regal and composed. Cradled in her arms was a child who could only have been Leon as an infant, his small face rendered with surprising tenderness.

  We turned left and entered a vast chamber. A throne?like chair rested upon a raised dais, its high back carved with intricate patterns of lions and vines. Tiered stands lined the room, as though meant for courtiers or petitioners to observe proceedings. The air here was cooler, carrying the faint scent of polished marble and old incense.

  We passed beneath the shadow of the throne and continued on, turning right toward an ornate door banded with iron and etched with curling motifs. Tale stopped before it and rapped three times with his gauntleted fist.

  From within, a voice echoed, deep and commanding.

  “Enter.”

  We entered the room, prisoners in tow. The air inside was cool and faintly scented with parchment and ink, books lined the entrance on shelves and small leather couch sat in the corner of the room with a blanket thrown on the back of it .

  The Duke sat behind a broad desk of dark oak, a man in his middle years whose frame still bore the strength of a soldier. Rising, he moved around the desk and leaned casually against its front edge. He wore a white tunic paired with dark trousers and boots, clothing fine in quality but stripped of ornament, tailored for dignity rather than display.

  His steady gaze swept the room, settling first on Balt and me, then on Tale, and finally on the bound apprentices. “What is all this, Captain?” His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.

  Tale inclined his head slightly. “My lord, this man has a story you will want to hear.”

  The Duke’s eyes shifted to me. “Then speak.”

  So, I did. I told him of Leon’s rescue, of the underground cavern crawling with monsters and the shambling dead, of the true source of the Blackfern bandages spreading through the city like poison. I spoke of the portal arches and army on the move, its destination uncertain but likely here. And finally, I told him about our arrival here and the apprentice waiting on us when we exited the cave portal.

  As I spoke, the Duke’s expression changed. His eyes widened, first with disbelief, then with dawning horror. When I described Leon’s condition, he rose abruptly from his chair, the muscles in his jaw tightening. His fist clenched at his side, knuckles white with fury.

  The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint crackle of the hearth.

  At last, the Duke drew a steadying breath and turned to his soldiers. “Take these prisoners away. Secure them well.”

  The guards moved at once, hauling the apprentices from the room.

  Then the Duke looked back to us, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Riven. Balt. Please sit. There is much more I must hear.”

  The Duke was a thorough man, pressing me with clarifying questions about the initial fight with the kobolds at Blackfern. When I finished, he nodded gravely.

  “I will send a contingent to meet my cousin and my son, as well as reinforcements to Blackfern. I cannot spare many, but I will send what soldiers I can. We must find Kelv that son of a whore has a lot to answer for.”

  As his words settled over the chamber, a surge of System energy descended upon Balt and me, washing through our bodies like a tide of light.

  I immediately invested the free stat point into Spirit, bringing it up to 40.

  Another message flashed across my vision:

  “Hell yeah!” I couldn’t help but pump my fist in the air. Both the Duke and Captain Tale gave me strange looks.

  “Don’t worry,” Balt said quickly, covering for me. “That just means Riven got something good. Well? What was it?”

  I shared my screen with him. Balt’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, a passive mana regen? You are truly loved by the System. It sickens me. It hurts my soul.”

  I laughed, basking in Balt’s half?serious disgust. With this new power, I knew Regalia would last far longer. I was no longer just a glass cannon; I was becoming a warrior who could endure.

  I turned back toward the Duke and Captain Tale, then froze. A sound like thunder rolled through the manor. I knew that sound. A portal.

  Regalia flared around me as I launched into the air, streaking from the chamber. Someone had just opened a portal in the great hall, and I had a very good idea who it was.