Jeffery POV

Jeffery had been waiting all morning for this particular carriage, and honestly, the waiting was beneath him. A man of his importance shouldn't have to stand around in the dust like some common guard. But the payoff would be worth it. Oh yes, it would be worth every tedious minute.

Three goddamn hours he'd been standing here, pretending to do actual checkpoint work like he gave a shit about proper procedure.

That mysterious person had been very clear, however. Stop Theodore from entering the city; make him reveal his trump cards. Simple enough instructions, really. Jeffery didn't need to know who that person was—the less he knew, the better, probably—but anyone who could promise the kind of rewards he'd been promised had to be someone important.

He'd never have to work another day in his life after this.

The best part was that he had complete immunity. That person had connections all the way up and had promised Jeffery he wouldn't face consequences. Jeffery could do whatever he wanted today.

He'd already tested it a little. That merchant earlier with the silk shipment, Jeffery had confiscated half of it as "evidence of smuggling." The man's protests had been music to his ears. What was he going to do, file a complaint? Against Jeffery, trusted checkpoint official acting on orders from someone so high up Jeffery didn't even know their name? Please.

The silk would fetch a nice price in the city. Not that he needed the money after today, but why leave profit on the table? His mother hadn't raised a fool.

Another carriage approached. Jeffery straightened up, squinting against the sun. Normal looking. Merchant class. Not the one he was waiting for. He waved it through without even checking papers because honestly, who cared? After today he'd be rich enough to buy and sell a dozen merchant caravans.

"Sir?" Jenkins approached nervously. "The men are wondering about lunch rotation—"

"No lunch," Jeffery snapped. "Not until I say so."

"But sir, we've been here since dawn—"

"Did I stutter?" was all Jeffery said, and he enjoyed the way Jenkins flinched. These Rank 3 guards thought they were hot shit just because they could throw a few fire balls or whatever, but they still answered to him. "Get back to your post."

Jenkins slunk away. Jeffery smiled. Power was intoxicating, even this small taste of it. Soon he'd have real power. The kind that came with money and connections and not having to actually work for a living. He'd be able to do whatever he wanted.

And speaking of whatever he wanted...

His eyes drifted to the carriage that had just rolled up. Royal crest on the door. Too fancy for some Rank 2 nobody, that was for sure. That mysterious person had warned him about the crest, said Theodore might try to pass himself off as actual royalty. The audacity of it made Jeffery want to laugh. Did the fool really think checkpoint officials were that stupid? That they'd just see a royal crest and wave him through without questions?

Well. Most checkpoint officials were that stupid. But not Jeffery. He was different, special, and destined for greater things than stamping papers and collecting bribes. Though he did enjoy the bribes. They were like little appetizers before the main course of real wealth.

He yanked open the door and... well, hello there.

Two women sat inside. The first one—gods above and below, that pale skin, that black hair falling like silk. She sat there all composed and perfect like she'd stepped out of one of those fancy paintings rich people hung in their houses.

The other one was different but just as appetizing. Tall, tan, with this wild red hair that made Jeffery think of fire and other hot things. Sharp features that promised she'd be fun to break. Both of them just sitting there, probably kidnapped or coerced by this Theodore character, as per the information he'd gotten. The poor things probably didn't even know they were in danger.

Good thing Jeffery was here to save them.

The actual Theodore was... disappointing. Just some guy in nice clothes trying to act important. Rank 2, just like that person had said. Jeffery could feel it, that pathetic little aura barely worth noticing. How did someone like that get his hands on women like these? Had to be criminal activity. Trafficking, probably. Or blackmail. Something disgusting and vile that Jeffery would heroically put a stop to.

"Good afternoon," Theodore started with this annoyingly polite voice. "We're traveling to the capital for the tournament. Our documents are—"

"I'll be the judge of what your documents are." Jeffery let his eyes linger on the black-haired beauty. Gods, those eyes. Were they blue? Gray? Hard to tell from here but he'd find out during the private inspection. Then the redhead. Then back to Theodore with the sneer the fool deserved. "Rank 2, are we? Bit above your station to be traveling in such refined company."

Theodore handed over some papers. Jeffery didn't need to look at them. Forgeries, obviously. He knew that whatever documents Theodore produced would be fake. The man was a criminal mastermind, apparently. Well, not mastermind enough to fool Jeffery.

He tore the papers in half.

"Oh dear." Jeffery smiled, enjoying this more than he should. Which was wrong, he should enjoy it exactly this much because he was exposing a dangerous criminal. "Forgeries. Clearly forgeries." He pointed at the royal crest. "And this! Impersonating the royal family? Putting their crest on your carriage? That's a hanging offense, you know."

"That's the real crest," Theodore said in this slow, careful way like he thought Jeffery was stupid. "I am Theodo—"

"Don't lie to me, boy." Yes, that's good, someone whispered, put him in his place. "I know criminal activity when I see it. Trafficking these poor maidens under false pretenses. Disgusting."

The black-haired woman finally opened both eyes. The full weight of that gaze made Jeffery's mouth go dry.

Had Jeffery been his normal self, he would've realized long ago that something was off since he met that mysterious person he couldn't even remember the face or gender of. First, his memories were all fuzzy. Two, he was far more unreasonable than usual. Three, he had these suspicious preconceived notions in his head he was oblivious to.

Alas, he was enthralled by that sweet, sweet voice in his head, whispering words of encouragement.

"Listen," Theodore sighed. "There's obviously been a misunderstanding. We're happy to pay the standard inspection fee and be on our way. What's the going rate?"

"Oh, you'll be paying much more than that. In fact, I think a private inspection is in order. Just to ensure these ladies aren't being coerced."

That's when Theodore's whole demeanor changed. The polite mask slipped and underneath was... nothing. Just flat, empty calm that some tiny animal part of Jeffery's brain didn't like at all.

"I'm going to give you one chance," Theodore said. "Take a reasonable fee. Let us pass. Everyone goes home happy. But if you demand a fight, I'll gladly give it."

Jeffery laughed. He couldn't help it. The sheer stupidity of this criminal threatening him? Him? With three Rank 3 guards right there? And Jeffery himself, also Rank 3, though he didn't advertise it. Let criminals think he was just some paper-pusher. Made it more surprising when he showed his true power.

"You'll fight me? A Rank 2 nobody?" He waved at his guards. "Seize him. Bring the ladies for proper questioning."

Theodore stood up and stepped out of the carriage. Just stood there like he thought he could take on three Rank 3s. The fool probably didn't even understand the power difference. A Rank 3 was exponentially stronger than a Rank 2. Three of them? It would be like a child fighting grown men.

Jeffery had seen it before. Rank 2s who thought they were hot shit because they could beat other Rank 2s. They had no idea what real power looked like. A Rank 3 could destroy a dozen Rank 2s without breaking a sweat.

"Get him," Jeffery ordered.

The first guard, Jenkins, moved forward with the confident stride of someone who knew he was about to win. He reached for Theodore's shoulder, probably planning to just grab him and force him down. Simple, easy, exactly what should happen when a Rank 3 dealt with a Rank 2.

Except...

Theodore just sort of... stepped. It wasn't even a real dodge, it was more like he was adjusting his stance. Jenkins's hand went through empty air. The guard's momentum carried him forward and then Theodore was somehow in exactly the wrong place—or right place, depending on perspective—and their shoulders bumped.

Jenkins went down like a sack of potatoes.

"What are you doing?" Jeffery shrieked. His voice might have gone a bit higher than he intended but this was unacceptable. "You're Rank 3! How can you let a Rank 2 do that to you? Disgusting!"

Jenkins scrambled back to his feet, face red with embarrassment. The other two guards exchanged glances. Laughing, they all moved in together and surrounded him properly. Three trained Rank 3 guards against one Rank 2 criminal. This would be over in seconds.

Theodore still just stood there. Hands in his pockets, for the love of—did he think this was a joke? Was he mocking them? The sheer disrespect of it made Jeffery's blood boil. When they dragged him down, Jeffery would make sure to kick him a few times. For the disrespect. For making this harder than it needed to be.

All three guards lunged at once.

Theodore swayed.

That was the only word for it. He swayed like a tree in a gentle breeze and somehow none of the guards touched him. Morrison's grab missed by inches. Hendricks stumbled past, arms closing on nothing. Jenkins, still off-balance from his earlier fall, managed to trip over his own feet.

How?

Jeffery rubbed his eyes. Maybe the sun was getting to him. Maybe he was seeing things. That had to be it. Three trained guards couldn't all miss at the same time. That wasn't how reality worked.

The guards regrouped, circling again. They were being more careful now, Jeffery noticed. Moving slower. Watching Theodore like he was dangerous. Which was ridiculous. He was Rank 2. They could sense it just like Jeffery could. That weak little aura that said 'easy target.' They'd underestimated the criminal. It happened. But luck only went so far. You couldn't dodge forever, especially not when you were outclassed this badly.

But they were spooked. Jeffery could see it in their eyes. They'd probably never seen a Rank 2 move like that. Hell, Jeffery had never seen a Rank 2 move like that. Because Rank 2s didn't move like that. They couldn't.

"Stop playing around!" Jeffery barked. "He's one man! A Rank 2! Are you guards or children?"

That got them moving. Pride was a wonderful motivator. They went in again. More coordinated this time. Morrison from the left, Hendricks from the right, Jenkins straight on. Even if Theodore was some kind of agility specialist—which was impossible at Rank 2 but whatever—he couldn't dodge in three directions at once.

Theodore took a single step backward.

Morrison and Hendricks collided where Theodore had been standing, almost as if something pushed them. Their arms tangled together, curses flying as they tried to separate. Jenkins's fist swept through empty air so hard he spun himself around, stumbling into the other two. They ended up in a tangled pile of limbs and curses.

Jeffery was growing suspicious. He was sensing mana movement from Theodore, which had to be what allowed him to do all of this, he just didn't know how he did it.

This wasn't possible to begin with. Jeffery knew what he was seeing but his brain refused to process it correctly. A Rank 2 couldn't move like that. Couldn't just casually sidestep three higher-ranked fighters like they were children playing tag. The power difference was absolute. Insurmountable. It was like saying water could flow uphill or fire could be cold.

But there was Theodore, still standing there with his hands in his damn pockets while three Rank 3 guards picked themselves up off the ground for the second time.

How? How was this possible?

Theodore looked at him with flinty eyes.

***

Alrighty, then, see you on August 11th if not earlier! Take care.

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