161 Provocations

The banquet came first, unexpectedly lavish for people who had yet to prove anything. Long tables overflowed with roasted meats, spiced stews, and piles of fruit I didn’t recognize. The prince moved through the hall with a smile, greeting each of us like honored guests rather than hired blades. It put me on edge. Acts of generosity from people in power usually hid motives sharper than any dagger. Still, Amelia ate quietly under her hood, and I followed suit while keeping an eye on the prince, his guard, and anyone who stared longer than necessary.

After the feast, the prince wasted no time. We were ordered to depart immediately, riding under torchlight as the capital shrank behind us. The prince and his royal guard rode on impressive horses, followed by several ranked soldiers with polished armor. The rest of us walked along with the infantry. I didn’t complain.

With my Enhancer ability, I could probably ride a horse like an expert if I studied it for ten minutes, but blending in mattered more. If we made ourselves look too capable, questions would follow.

We marched steadily through several nights and reached a massive encampment by the northern gorge by dawn. Dozens of banners fluttered around the perimeter, each bearing a different noble family’s crest. Tents covered the landscape like a patchwork of colors, and the air buzzed with the chatter of soldiers from all corners of the kingdom. This expedition wasn’t a small-scale prince’s parade. Instead, it was a full military collaboration. Whatever this dragon was, it had everyone rattled.

“I wish we had time to do some research,” I muttered as we passed supply wagons and wounded scouts. “Books, maps, old stories, anything helpful. But looks like hearsay is all we’ll get.”

We set up our tent along the row assigned to mercenaries. When night duty assignments came around, Amelia and I made sure to pair up. It didn’t take much convincing; the officers seemed relieved that two volunteers were willing to cover the outer patrol route, especially in dragon territory.

We walked along the trench line, torches crackling in the cold wind. The moonlight cast sharp shadows across the rocks.

“What did you get so far?” Amelia asked, adjusting her quiver.

“I heard it’s a red dragon,” I said. “Only confirmed sighting in the past five hundred years. That means it’s either ancient or part of a species that reproduces in cycles. Supposedly it’s over twenty feet long, breathes fire, and loves eating people.”

Amelia smirked. “Almost the same as me.”

“Minus the fire vomiting.”

“Plus the sarcasm,” she said before shifting to a more serious tone. “Also, the royal guard.”

“What about him?”

“People say he’s new. And he hated the prince before this. Apparently, he used to be an apprentice to the chief of the royal guards. A comfortable path to a prestigious future. Then one day, he quit everything and became the prince’s personal guard instead.”

“That is weird,” I admitted. “Every prince has a dedicated guard assigned since childhood, from what I’ve heard. Why break that tradition for one guy?”

“That’s what bothers me,” she said. “Someone who abandons status, comfort, and future prospects to become the shadow of a prince? It doesn’t make sense. Not unless something happened behind the scenes.”

“What’s his name?” I asked. “And what power does he have?”

“Abner,” she answered. “And as for his power? I don’t know. That’s supposed to be your job.”

I let out a long sigh. “Right… noted.”

The more I learned about this kingdom, the more uneasy I became. Apparently, it was a strict rule for every royal guard to keep their ‘gifts’ a secret, even from each other. That meant Abner’s ability wasn’t just unknown to us; it might not even be known to the prince’s closest advisors. Hiding powers was practically a cultural norm here, which made it difficult to guess what we were dealing with. The secrecy felt dangerous. If Abner’s gift was anything like Continuity’s or remotely close to the Entity’s abilities, one wrong step could send everything spiraling.

Part of me wanted to act immediately. Sneak into the tents tonight, possess Abner while he slept, peel out memories, and understand what we were dealing with. Or I could bypass subtlety completely, slip into Prince Grant’s mind and end this quietly, making it look like the dragon got him. The opportunity was there. My powers had never failed me before. Yet something twisted unpleasantly in my gut every time the idea surfaced. Maybe Amelia’s hesitation rubbed off on me. Maybe I’d learned my lesson from Continuity. Or maybe it was just the simple fact that I had no idea what Grant’s power truly was. After surviving the brink of annihilation, I realized some abilities weren’t meant to be touched without caution.

So I shelved the idea for now.

We finished our patrol and returned to the campfire assigned to the mercenary group. The fire crackled in the cold night wind, sparks drifting upward. We sat down, intending to rest for a moment, when someone approached with heavy, confident footsteps. The redhead woman with the burn scar across her cheek dropped onto a log beside us, stretching her arms lazily before giving us both a look far too bold for the hour.

“The name’s Renry,” she said casually. “So, do the two of you fuck?”

I blinked, taken off guard. “No… and please, call me Nick.”

“I’m Amelia,” she said, somehow managing to keep her voice level while her emotions spiked in flustered chaos. “What do you want? Our shift isn’t over yet.”

Renry shrugged with a bored expression, poking a stick into the fire. “I wanted to have fun. Honestly? I was hoping for a threesome.”

I stared. Amelia froze. Renry didn’t blink.

This woman had an admirable level of shamelessness.

Renry leaned toward Amelia with a grin. “So, how about it? Want to come to my tent? I’ll show you a good time.”

“H-Huh? What? No. Absolutely not,” Amelia stammered, eyes wide. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

“I think I’m asking exactly the right person,” Renry said before turning her attention to me. “No offense. You’re handsome enough. But I prefer her. Unless you want to join too.”

“S-Stop,” Amelia muttered, ears burning under her hood.

“Shame,” Renry sighed as she stood and dusted off her trousers. “Anyway, a little advice, Miss Amelia, stay alert. World’s getting uglier by the day. Make sure you don’t end up killed… or raped. Well then. Nighty-night.”

She strolled off without a care.

Amelia exhaled a shaky breath. “…What do you think about her?”

I shrugged. “I think you want to go back to our tent early.”

“W-what are you talking about? Don’t try anything funny.”

“I’m teasing you.”

She glared, but my expressionless face probably made it look like I was being serious. She huffed and looked away.

The campfire crackled quietly between us.

“I’ll confront the royal guard tomorrow,” I finally said. “If I provoke him into a duel, I can gauge his abilities before we make any moves.”

Tomorrow came with the same stale air of waiting. Orders were strict: stay put, stay sharp, and stay ready for departure. In reality, that meant we sat around doing nothing while soldiers tried to stave off boredom by sharpening blades or retelling the same tired stories. From what I gathered, several noble houses were still on their way to join the expedition, and until they arrived, we weren’t moving an inch.

Boredom wasn’t just killing morale. Instead, it was the perfect opportunity for me.

I spotted Abner speaking quietly with a small group of soldiers. His posture was rigid, his armor polished, and his expression unreadable. A textbook royal guard. The kind of man who looked like he’d bend steel before he bent protocol.

I raised my voice. “Hey, you!”

Abner turned slowly, brow lifting. “Excuse me?”

I walked toward him, tilting my head just enough to provoke without crossing into open hostility. “I heard you’re good with a sword. Fight me.”

Before Abner could respond, one of the mercenaries, Ernesto, the swordsman who had passed the prince’s test stepped forward. “You’re wasting your time,” he said. “I challenged him earlier, and he refused. If you want a fight, I’m available. Name’s Ernesto—”

A soft ‘shk’ cut him off as a dagger pressed against his throat.

“Don’t interfere,” Amelia whispered.

Ernesto chuckled, unimpressed. “You really think that dagger can hurt me? Go on. Try.”

The tension drew eyes from every direction. Before anyone could break the moment, a calm voice cut through the gathering silence.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Prince Grant stepped out of his tent, posture graceful yet commanding. His presence alone quieted half the camp.

Abner bowed quickly. “Your Highness, this insolent mercenary dared challenge your authority. I will discipline this mongrel and remind him of his place.” He drew his sword with rigid precision. “Soldiers, apprehend the woman—”

“I got her,” Ernesto said as he swept Amelia’s legs, pinning her with casual ease. “She’s weaker than she looks.”

My empathy brushed against Amelia’s mind and found only calm certainty. She was fine. This was all part of the plan.

I reached out telepathically, keeping the message simple to avoid straining myself. “You did good. Leave the rest to me.”

She didn’t respond verbally, but I felt the acknowledgment. Her presence helped the mood, though she did it by acting as the foil.

I lifted my sheathed sword and presented it to Abner, bowing just enough to make it seem respectful rather than submissive.

“I come not to insult you or question your honor,” I said clearly, letting my voice carry through the camp. “I only want to ensure the success of this hunt. I am a warrior, as is my partner. Fighting is our craft. But I cannot ignore what is whispered everywhere.”

A ripple of murmurs began. Good. People were listening.

“You are a royal guard,” I continued. “You had a secure future in the palace. The path to becoming Chief of the Royal Guard was open to you. Yet you left that path to serve the youngest prince.” I paused long enough for the implications to sink in. “Your decision spreads dangerous rumors. That the Royal Guard is divided. That neutrality is lost. That you have chosen a side.”

Abner’s jaw tightened. “You dare question my loyalty?” He stepped forward, fury trembling under his armor. “You? A mercenary?”

His eyes flashed with a faint glow of blue flickering like a spark under the surface.

Ah. There it was.

A hint of his power.

“Correction,” I spat back at Abner, “a warrior.”

The word struck harder than the tone. At that exact moment, Amelia twisted under Ernesto’s hold and struck his throat with a clean, sharp jab. His grip broke as he choked from his throat getting hit. She flipped him onto his back, pinning him as easily as swatting a fly. The soldiers around us murmured, surprised. Excellent… Our little fiction of being wandering warriors hungry for trials was taking shape. Let them think we were glory-seekers dreaming of knighthood or land. Misunderstandings didn’t matter. They only needed to look believable.

Prince Grant stepped forward, expression tight. “Enough of this nonsense. My former royal guard died in service. When I asked for a replacement, Sir Abner volunteered for the position. The politics behind that decision do not concern you. In fact,” he added sharply, “I could have you executed for slandering my guard.”

His tone was firm, but his eyes were calculating.

And with how close I stood, their thoughts were loud.

Abner’s mind churned beneath the surface: “He knows too much about the implications of my leaving the Royal Guard. Why bring it up now? Is he a spy? No… intel already checked him. The report said he lived in a remote village and came from the northern tundra. Barren lands and mutant beasts… so he’s a wandering warrior after all…”

The forged history Dr. Time created was working flawlessly.

Prince Grant’s thoughts were even more cautious: “A warrior from the north? That fits his behavior. But how does a foreigner know our court politics? Suspicious. Sir Abner isn’t wrong to doubt him. I can test this man through Abner. Their gifts will reveal themselves soon enough during the dragon hunt, but these two…Amelia and Nick, is it? They hid their abilities in the assessment. I don’t like unknown factors.”

I raised my voice so the nearby soldiers and the prince could hear every word.

“I stand by my beliefs,” I said. “If I am to trust someone I fight beside, I confront them with my fists and steel. That is how warriors measure honor. If Sir Abner accepts, the duel will raise morale. A clear show of strength before the hunt.”

A wave of murmurs spread, quickly shifting into excitement.

I continued, “If I lose, I will kneel and press my forehead to the ground before you, Prince Grant, begging forgiveness for my insult.” Then I turned to Abner. “If I win, I ask only for your friendship, Sir Abner. Nothing more.”

The crowd reacted instantly.

“Fight!”

“Fight!”

“Let them duel!”

“Honor duel!”

The chant rippled across the camp, soldiers pounding shields, mercenaries grinning, and a few nobles watching with glittering curiosity. Once the blood got hot, no one wanted it to cool down.

Prince Grant rubbed his temple and let out a long, tired sigh. He clearly didn’t want this. But the crowd had already taken sides, and denying them now would only weaken his authority.

Finally, he raised his hand.

“Very well,” he said. “I permit the duel.”

And the camp erupted in cheers.