CHAPTER 136: CONFRONTATION

The walk to the palace felt different this time.

Mostly because Ariana wouldn’t stop staring at Oliver. She walked a half-step behind him, clutching her staff, looking at him like he was a rare specimen in a museum.

"So," she whispered, leaning in. "In your world... do you really have carriages that move without horses?"

Oliver sighed, adjusting his collar. "Yes. They’re called cars."

"And... and boxes that let you talk to people across the continent instantly?"

"Smartphones. And yes."

"And... giant metal birds that carry many people"

"Yes. They are called aeroplanes."

"Aeroplanes... Cool. I also want to fly but flight magic is so hard and consumes so much mana."

Ariana gasped softly. "That’s incredible. Do you have infinite mana there? Is that how it works?"

"No mana. Just electricity and science."

"Science..." she repeated the word like it was a holy scripture.

Isolde, walking on his other side, laughed. "Look at that. You’ve got a worshipper now. She looks like she’s about to ask for your autograph."

"I don’t need a worshipper," Oliver grumbled. "I need her to act normal. If she keeps looking at me like I’m a god, people are going to get suspicious."

Seraphine, trailing behind them, chimed in. "Analysis: Subject Ariana displays symptoms of ’Hero Worship Syndrome.’ Probability of rational thought decreasing by 40%."

Ariana flushed red. "I—I’m just curious! It’s another world!"

Oliver stopped at the intersection leading to the noble district. He turned to Ariana and Seraphine.

"Alright, this is where we split up. You two go find us a new inn. The Silver Quill is burned—everyone stares at me like I’m a zoo animal since the Princess visited."

"Understood," Seraphine said. "I will locate a lodging with optimal privacy and multiple escape routes."

"Just... a quiet place is fine, Sera," Oliver said.

Ariana nodded vigorously. "Leave it to us! Good luck at the palace!"

She waved enthusiastically as she dragged Seraphine toward the merchant district. Oliver watched them go, shaking his head.

"She’s never going to let this go, is she?"

"Nope," Isolde smirked, linking her arm with his. "Now come on. Don’t keep your other girlfriends waiting."

****

The Palace Garden

Oliver and Isolde were escorted to the same private garden in the west wing. But this time, it wasn’t just Elisha waiting.

Sitting around a white circular table were three other familiar faces: Amy, Sophia, and Lisa.

They looked different out of their armor. Lisa wore a simple navy dress, Sophia was cleaning her glasses with a cloth, and Amy looked tired but managed a small smile when they approached.

"You’re here," Elisha said, brightening up. "Good. I was thinking of visiting you again if you didn’t show up."

"Oh, please spare me from that," Oliver said, pulling out a chair for Isolde. "I’m already moving inns because of your last visit. I don’t want to be homeless by next week."

The girls laughed. It was a light, genuine sound that eased the tension instantly.

"Come on, sit," Elisha said, gesturing to the empty seats.

Oliver sat down. He looked around the table. Four beautiful women—a princess, a saintess, a mage, and a rogue—plus Isolde, the former princess of a lost empire. And him.

If my old classmates could see me now, he thought wryly.

"So," Oliver started, accepting a cup of tea from a maid. "Why did you want to see me? Just for tea?"

"It’s about the plan you mentioned," Elisha said, her expression turning serious. "The ’scalpel’ strategy."

Oliver nodded. "Did you run it by the others?"

"I did," she said. "And everyone liked it."

She gestured to the three Hero-party members.

Lisa nodded firmly. "It makes sense. In the last raid, we were tripping over each other. Too many people, too much noise. A smaller group moves faster."

Sophia put her glasses back on. "I agree. I saw how you fought in the dungeon... and how you saved us on the stairs. Your judgment is sound. I trust your plan."

Amy looked at him, her eyes lingering on his mask for a second before she nodded. "Same for me. We almost died because of the chaos. We need order."

"See?" Elisha smiled, looking satisfied. "I have also informed my father. He hasn’t given his final decision yet, but the reports from the survivors were clear. The mass-assault strategy was a failure. I think his ruling will be favorable."

The conversation shifted after that. The heavy talk of strategy faded into idle chit-chat. Lisa complained about the palace food being too bland, Sophia talked about a new spell theory she was reading, and Elisha asked Isolde about her dress.

It was nice. Normal. For a moment, they weren’t heroes or adventurers—just people sitting in a garden.

Then, heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel path.

"So this is where you’ve been wasting time."

The atmosphere shattered.

Oliver didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The arrogance in the voice was unmistakable.

Daniel and Jason strode into the gazebo. They were dressed in their casual training gear, but they carried themselves like they were wearing crowns.

They stopped at the edge of the table, looking down at the group with open annoyance.

"We have a strategy meeting in the war room," Daniel said, his eyes locking onto Amy. "Why aren’t you there?"

Amy shrank back slightly in her chair. "I... I wasn’t told about a meeting."

"You should have known," Jason scoffed. "We’re prepping for the second expedition. Or do you plan on slacking off again?"

Daniel stepped into the gazebo, ignoring Oliver and Isolde completely. He acted as if they were invisible servants.

"Get up," Daniel ordered the girls. "Stop playing tea party with these mercenaries. We have work to do."

Lisa frowned. "We were discussing strategy right here, Daniel. Better strategy than just charging in blindly."

"Strategy?" Daniel sneered. "Listening to a freelancer? What does he know about being a Hero? We are the ones who have to clear the dungeon. You three are support. Your place is with us."

He reached out and grabbed Amy’s arm, yanking her slightly.

"Come on. Stop embarrassing us."

Amy winced. "Daniel, you’re hurting me—"

Clack.

Oliver set his teacup down. The sound was soft, but it cut through the noise like a knife.

"Let go of her," Oliver said.

Daniel froze. He turned his head slowly, looking at Oliver with a mix of shock and rage.

"Excuse me?" Daniel said, his voice low. "Did the hired help just speak?"

Oliver stood up. He didn’t draw a weapon. He didn’t flare his mana. He just stood there, calm and solid.

"I said let go," Oliver repeated. "She’s not a dog you can just drag around on a leash."

Jason stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "Watch your mouth, mask-face. You think because you got lucky in the dungeon you can talk to us like that?"

"Lucky?" Oliver laughed. It was a cold, dry sound. "Is that what you call it? While you were screaming at hallucinations and wetting your armor, I was dragging your party members out of the abyss."

Daniel’s face flushed red. "You insolent—"

"You call yourselves Heroes," Oliver interrupted, stepping closer to Daniel. He was slightly shorter, but his presence felt heavier. "But look at you. You bully your teammates. You blame everyone else for your failures. You treat people like property."

He looked pointedly at Daniel’s hand, which was still gripping Amy’s arm.

"A real leader doesn’t need to force people to follow him," Oliver said quietly. "They follow because they trust him. Right now? No one here trusts you."

The words hit hard. They hit deep.

Daniel released Amy’s arm as if he’d been burned. He stepped back, his hand drifting to his sword hilt, his ego bruised and bleeding.

"You don’t know anything about us," Daniel hissed. "You’re just a nobody hiding behind a mask."

"Maybe," Oliver said, crossing his arms. "But this nobody is the reason you’re still alive to complain about it."

Isolde stood up then, her mana flaring just enough to drop the temperature in the gazebo by ten degrees.

"I think you boys should leave," she said, her smile sharp as a razor. "Before this tea party turns into a funeral."

Daniel looked at Oliver, then at the girls who were staring at him with disappointment, not admiration. He realized he had lost this round.

"Fine," Daniel spat. "Stay with him. But when we go back in, don’t expect us to save you."

"We wouldn’t dream of it," Oliver replied.

Daniel spun on his heel and stormed out, Jason trailing behind him like an angry dog.

Silence returned to the garden.

Amy rubbed her arm where Daniel had grabbed her. She looked up at Oliver, her eyes shimmering.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Don’t mention it," Oliver said, sitting back down. "I just hate guys who think being strong gives them the right to be pricks."

Sophia adjusted her glasses, looking at Oliver with new respect. "You really aren’t afraid of them, are you?"

Oliver shrugged, picking up his tea.

"They’re just people," he said. "And right now? They aren’t even very good ones."