Allira, Allyson, Theresa, and I followed General Kitch onto the training grounds. The space was alive with motion, soldiers sparring with swords, practicing formations, and pushing themselves through drills across the wide field. As we approached the central arena, a loose group of soldiers stood waiting. Upon our arrival, they quickly snapped into formation.

  Theresa stayed with Allyson, while the three of us got closer to the assembled soldiers. General Kitch stepped forward, voice clear and commanding.

  “Attention! As you already know, you’ve been selected as the finest swordsmen in the kingdom. For the next week, we’ll be joined by special guests, experts here to evaluate your skills and help shore up any weaknesses.”

  He gestured toward Allira and me.

  “This is Earl David Robertson and his wife, General Allira Robertson. Don’t underestimate them. They are both master-ranked swordsmen.”

  He gave me a nod. “Earl?”

  I stepped forward, letting my gaze sweep across the ranks. My Analyze skill activated instinctively, giving me a flicker of names and stats. Most hovered around level twenty-one, with a couple breaking into the mid twenties. Strength and agility scores mostly landed in the high teens, not bad for professional soldiers. Still, Allira could mop the floor with them.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” I began. “You were promised world-class swordmasters to help refine your form, expose your weaknesses, and teach you new techniques. And instead… You get me.”

  A few chuckles rippled through the group.

  “For all you know, I’m just a wandering bard doing a side gig to earn lunch money.”

  That got more laughs.

  “Now, the good General and I made a little wager to see if you are really the finest swordsmen in the kingdom. Here is the gist. If six of you, his best of you lot, can land a single hit on me, I’ll buy lunch. Not just for General Kitch, but for all of you. Which,” I added, eyeing the crowd, “is going to be a costly lunch.” The cheer that erupted was instant. Soldiers always like a challenge, especially when food is involved.

  “But…” I held up a finger. “If I hit each of the chosen six before any of you can tag me, then he buys lunch for me and my wife.”

  “Just so you know,” Allira added sweetly, giving Kitch a sideways smile, “we have very expensive taste.” There was a round of laughter, and even Kitch smirked. He shook his head and turned toward the ranks.

  “Well, Earl,” Kitch said, his tone half-amused, half-impressed, “since I personally watched you dismember several trolls single-handedly, I suppose it’s only fair I make this interesting. I’ve got six here who should at least give you a decent workout.”

  He moved through the ranks, selecting his best. One by one, the chosen soldiers stepped forward, each squaring their shoulders with pride as they entered the practice circle. They ranged in level from twenty-two to twenty-five, well-trained, confident, and focused. A solid group.

  I retrieved a practice sword from the rack. Lightweight, balanced, not bad for a training weapon.

  Standing just outside the circle, I glanced at Allira. “Fast or slow?”

  “Fast,” she said without hesitation, flashing a grin. “I’m starving.”

  I chuckled. “Fast it is.”

  I stepped into the ring. Kitch had seen me fight before and still volunteered six of his best. That either meant he trusted them… or he wanted to see something.

  Kitch’s voice rang out. “Rules are simple. If you, Earl, get tagged, just once, lunch is on you. If any of my people get tagged, they’re out. If all six go down and you’re still standing, I’ll foot the bill.”

  I rolled my shoulders, loosening up. Across the circle, the six soldiers exchanged quick glances and hand signals, then spread out in a staggered formation. They were going to try to box me in. Smart, but too slow. Kitch’s assistant raised the whistle and blew. I stepped forward immediately, no hesitation, right into the trio directly ahead.

  The first went wide-eyed as I closed the distance. I brought the wooden sword around in a horizontal arc and cracked it into his ribs. He staggered.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  3,250 XP to next Skill Level

  Before the second could even lift his guard, I pivoted and struck his thigh with enough force to knock him sideways to the ground.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  2,900 XP to next Skill Level

  The third, a female soldier, adjusted fast, raising her blade, but I was already inside her guard. I dipped low and swept my sword behind her leg, catching her just above the knee. She crumpled.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  2,725 XP to next Skill Level

  Three down. I didn’t wait. My perception flickered, danger on the right side.

  I dropped my weight and brought the blade up just in time to block a strike. The fourth soldier had flanked me and was swinging downward. I rotated my wrist, caught the angle, and struck hard across his shoulder in one fluid riposte.

  Four down.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  2,550 XP to next Skill Level

  I stood up straight, the training sword resting loosely in my hand, and looked around at the aftermath. Four of the kingdom’s best were limping or crawling out of the circle. The watching soldiers were whispering, some openly gaping. Across from me stood the last two.

  They’d taken the long route, circling counterclockwise while I had moved clockwise, meaning I’d saved the best for last. Both were level twenty-five. The highest in the group. Good swordsmanship, good footwork, and they hadn’t broken position even as their comrades fell.

  This would be the real fight. I raised a hand to halt the two remaining soldiers, giving the others time to crawl or be helped off the field.

  “Thank you,” I said calmly as I stepped closer.

  They tensed, eyes sharp, watching my every move. I held my wooden sword loosely, lifting it into a casual defensive stance. I could see in their posture that they planned to strike together, overwhelming me with simultaneous attacks. Clever. I could only block one. But I had other plans. I moved first.

  Closing the distance, I feinted toward the soldier on the left, parried his instinctive counterstrike, and twisted behind him. His body now blocked his partner from attacking me. I kept my momentum going, looped around, and tagged the second soldier from behind.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  2,375 XP to next Skill Level

  One left. I stepped back and gave the final opponent some breathing room. He looked around, watching as healers tended to the others now sitting along the edge of the circle. His jaw tensed. Then he charged.

  I parried. He struck again. Another parry. We went back and forth, four full exchanges. He wasn’t bad. In fact, he was holding up better than the rest.

  “Good,” I said mid-swing. “Loosen your grip. You’re holding too tight, you’ll wear yourself out.”

  He adjusted. I nodded.

  “Better. Much Better… Less emotion…”

  Our blades clacked again. Then I shifted into offense, increasing pressure. He moved well, reacting faster than before.

  “You’ve got talent,” I continued. “But one habit’s going to hold you back.”

  He hesitated, just for a moment, and that was all I needed.

  I stepped into his guard, caught his blade with mine, and pressed forward, pinning his foot under mine.

  “You overextend.”

  I knocked his weapon aside and tapped him hard on the thigh. He dropped to the ground, winded, stunned, as a healer rushed to his side.

  [DING]

  175 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  2,200 XP to next Skill Level

  “Not bad,” I said with a smile after the ringing in my head subsided, then turned and walked back to Allira.

  “What took you so long?” she teased.

  I shrugged. “Teaching moment.”

  Allira stepped forward and addressed the formation of watching soldiers.

  “So… what went wrong?” she asked. “Why couldn’t six trained soldiers land a single hit on one man?”

  A few murmurs passed through the group before someone called out, “He’s a sword master. We’re not.”

  “Anyone else?” she pressed.

  Another voice replied, “General, he’s faster and more skilled than we are. We never had a chance.”

  Allira nodded. “True, but not the real reason. You could have had a chance. The final two showed it.” She turned to face them all, hands on her hips. “If you’d attacked together, coordinated, swarmed him, you might have landed a strike. Not guaranteed, but possible. Instead, you came one at a time. Predictable. Isolated. Easy to dismantle. It’s human nature not to want to get hurt. You have to fight that nature even in this controlled environment.”

  She looked over the group with a sharp gaze. “For the next week, we start with fundamentals. Basics. Footwork, timing, coordination. We’ll find where you’re weakest, and we’ll sharpen those edges until you’re something more.”

  She glanced back at me.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be helping too. And trust me, David doesn’t like to hold back. That was him holding back.” I can see the shock on the soldiers’ faces at what they saw.

  I leaned in to Allira. “Time for that meeting with the King. You got this?”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  She shook her head, but I smiled. “We’ll be back as soon as it’s over.”

  “I want everyone to pair up. We’re running some drills…” I heard my sweet General yell as I helped Theresa into the waiting carriage. I followed her in, settling across from General Kitch.

  “You know, as long as I’ve been attending these meetings, they’ve never been exciting,” Kitch said, leaning back against the headrest. “I suspect that’ll change today.”

  “We’ve got a few minutes. Can you explain the setup? I’d rather not walk in looking like a complete fool,” I said, chuckling as I took Theresa’s hand.

  “Well, Earl, there are now six groups, including you. Seating is based on rank. The King sits at the head of the table. The Baron used to sit to his right, and I sit to his left. Opposite us are the Arch Mage and the Bishop. Since you’re an Earl, you’ll take the seat to the King’s right, pushing the Baron down. That alone will disrupt whatever plan he arrived with.”

  “Once we’re settled, the recorder will list the unresolved issues from the last session. We’ll debate those, maybe settle a few, then move on to the budget, trade balances, and taxes. Honestly, most of it’s boring, until we hit the military budget.”

  “Sounds like a simple meeting. So where’s the problem?” I asked.

  “Winsket always tries to manipulate tax and tariff changes in favor of the aristocracy. They’re already wealthy, not your level of wealthy, but rich by Eldros standards.”

  “My level of wealth?” I looked at him, then glanced at the Princess.

  “David, do you even know what you’re worth?” Theresa asked.

  “No, not really.” I shrugged. I hadn’t thought much about it. “Seraphina usually takes care of that part, so not really…”

  “Earl, you showed me that dragon scale in the Vaults. Based on the amount you said you had, that alone makes your personal wealth greater than the entire kingdom,” Kitch said.

  “Well then, Princess, I guess you married a rich guy,” I said as she leaned against me. She playfully hit me and started chuckling.

  “I see money doesn’t mean much to you,” Kitch commented.

  “Not really. I still have that quest to find the Towers and close the rifts. If we don’t shut those down, it won’t matter how much I have. Also, those scales, if they are worth what you say, don’t put food on the table.”

  “True,” Kitch agreed as the carriage slowed to a stop.

  We stepped out and followed the General toward the conference room. It was the same chamber where I’d first met King Theron, on my very first day in Eldros.

  As we approached the table, King Theron was already seated at the head, reading over a few papers while nibbling on a light snack. The other chairs were still empty. I guided Theresa to the seat beside her father and took the one to her right.

  When the King looked up, his eyes widened at the sight of his daughter.

  “Theresa, you look lovely,” he said.

  She did. She wore a soft yellow dress that Seraphina had picked out for her. The white trim added a refined touch and, more importantly, concealed the silver markings that had started spreading across her body over the last few days. I’d noticed they had nearly doubled in size over the past week. Just that morning, I traced them with my fingers while she lay beside me, and she giggled in response.

  As we sat, a servant arrived with tea and snacks for both of us. I opened my satchel and pulled out my sketchbook, ready to work while I listened to the King and his daughter talk. I started scribbling in the Engineer’s script, the one I use when I don’t want anyone else reading over my shoulder. This design needed to stay private. I was working on a prototype inspired by Wonder Woman’s bracelets. Just one for now. I wanted to get the design exactly right and had just begun noting key elements when the chamber doors swung open.

  A group of flamboyant figures entered. I immediately recognized one of them, Baron Winsket, dressed in a deep red suit and carrying the same ornate cane he had at the dance. His gleaming bald head stood out, no matter how much he tried to conceal it.

  He stopped when he saw us already seated, clearly taken aback. He said nothing, but his expression said plenty. He walked around the table, pulled out the chair beside Kitch, and dropped into it.

  The last to arrive were the Arch Mage, Bishop Varent, and another man dressed almost identically to him. Another Bishop? Possibly. All three took their seats quietly. As they settled in, my analytical skill activated, and blue panels appeared over each person at the table, displaying their basic details.

  [Name: Eadwig Winsket]

  Level: 10

  Class: Merchant 3

  Title: Baron

  Level ten? After all this time, and that’s all he’s managed? I suppose numbers don’t always tell the whole story. But across the table, another profile caught my attention:

  [Name: Gisbert Renat]

  Level: 30

  Class: Priest

  Title: Bishop of Eldros

  Leader of the Order

  So, this is Renat, the one who sent Inquisitor Hermmons after me in Vaelthorn. Is he the Ernst Blofeld to my James Bond? Is my Doctor Evil to my Austin Powers? Maybe. But then again, he hasn’t made a move since I arrived in Eldros. He may be more of a Dr. Evil type. Baron Winsket broke the silence, pulling me out of my mental detour through classic spy villains and Austin Powers references.

  “Your Majesty, there seem to be more attendees today than expected.”

  “Yes, Baron,” the King replied without looking up from his papers. “I invited Earl Robertson. And my daughter is studying business, so I thought this would offer some practical perspective before she heads to Vaelthorn next week.”

  “Earl Robertson? I wasn’t expecting you here,” Winsket said, turning to me.

  “Well, since I have some interests in this kingdom, King Theron wanted me involved,” I replied.

  “Interests? I’ve not heard of any ventures that would concern you.”

  “My tower is in your capital. That takes up quite a bit of real estate,” I said.

  “Tower? What tower?” he asked.

  “The only black tower in the capital,” the Arch Mage cut in. “Also, sire, if I’m correct, he’s the owner of the airships, is he not?”

  “Yes,” the King replied, handing Theresa a paper marked with a royal seal. “This is the deed for the airships. How soon can we expect the first one to be renovated?”

  “Roughly six weeks,” I said.

  “Airships? You own the airships?” the Baron blurted, his voice pitching upward.

  “Baron, relax,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Yes, my family owns the airships, as of a few minutes ago. All bought and paid for…” I rested a hand on Theresa’s arm as I spoke, and I saw the moment the Baron’s expression shifted, the realization slotting into place about what our relationship meant.

  “As I mentioned, we’ll be renovating the current fleet and adding new ships into service. Actually… Theresa,” I said, turning to her, “How about we name the first one after Seraphina?”

  She brightened. “Hmm. That sounds wonderful. Shouldn’t we surprise her with it?”

  “That would be fun, wouldn’t it?” I turned back toward the King. “When the fleet expands, I’d like Karethuun to be the first addition.”

  “That will make Queen Aleryn very happy,” the King said with a pleased nod. Then he shifted his attention. “Now then, Baron, what’s on the agenda?”

  The Baron fumbled with his papers, suddenly very aware he wasn’t steering this meeting anymore. His influence, once solid, was slipping through his fingers like sand, and Kitch was enjoying every moment of it.

  “Yes, my lord. We have an import issue at the docks and the matter of the increased military budget,” Winsket replied.

  “Let’s begin with the military budget,” the King ordered.

  “Yes. There was a fifteen percent increase over last year’s budget, with no change in manpower levels,” the Baron stated.

  “As we explained before,” General Kitch said, “that increase was tied to a specific operation and can’t be separated from its purpose. It was also agreed that the budget would return to its prior level after the mission concluded.”

  “It’s all that demon nonsense, isn’t it?” the Baron said dismissively.

  I looked up from my sketchbook and shook my head. A glare from across the table caught my eye. It came from the man dressed like a bishop, but not Bishop Varent. His stare burned into me. Who exactly was Renat? I’d need to ask Varent when I saw him next.

  “Let’s move on to the import issue,” Winsket said quickly. “Currently, we have a trade deficit with both the Heartian Theocracy and the Erean Kingdom. We’re importing more raw goods than we’re exporting. At the last meeting, we discussed raising tariffs and landing fees.”

  “May I, King Theron?” I asked.

  “Yes, by all means,” the King said with a smile.

  “Thank you.” I turned to the Baron. “You’re suggesting raising tariffs and landing fees because we’re importing more than we’re exporting. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. We want to slow down incoming goods to allow trade to balance between our partners and us,” he said.

  “Alright. Then, let me ask: How would you describe the current state of the kingdom’s economy? Good? Bad? Somewhere in between?”

  “It’s good. Very good, in fact. That’s why we should raise fees, so we can capitalize on the increase in trade,” he said, sounding quite confident.

  “And you propose to raise tariffs across the board? On all goods?” I pressed.

  “Yes. All goods,” he repeated. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

  “Because I want to understand how much damage you’re planning to do to this kingdom’s economy, and how badly you want the people to turn against the King.”

  “What?” Winsket snapped. “This is standard policy. It seems, Earl, you don’t understand how we do things here,” he said slowly, with deliberate condescension.

  The King raised a hand, silencing the table. “Earl Robertson, what’s your view on this matter?”

  “Well, sire,” I began, “in a strong or growing economy, it’s generally unwise to raise tariffs or landing fees across the board. You’ve indicated that the economy is doing well and that exports are proceeding as expected. If we follow the Baron’s suggestion, it will choke off the supply of incoming raw materials, which are essential for industry and infrastructure. That will halt progress.”

  I continued, “Worse, your trade partners will retaliate. They’ll raise tariffs on your exports, which could lead to a decline in outbound trade and harm local producers. What you should consider instead is targeted tariffs. Lower overall tariffs to encourage trade flow, but raise them selectively on specific domestic products you want to promote locally, assuming local producers can meet the demand. If not, you risk shortages. There’s no one-size-fits-all solution. You have to be strategic. If you mishandle this, the economy will falter, and your people will feel it deeply. And they won’t stay quiet about it.”

  “Is this true, David?” King Theron asked, locking eyes with me.

  “Yes. If it were up to me, I’d begin by making a complete list of imported and exported goods. Skip any individual trades valued at one gold or less; they’re too small to evaluate properly. Focus on tracking trade quality and volume. Once we gather that data, evaluate each item on its own. Then apply specific trade rules and let them run for sixty to ninety days. Anything shorter won’t provide reliable data for meaningful analysis.”

  “That sounds like a solid plan,” the King replied. “Baron, follow the Earl’s advice. Collect the data and send it to him. At next week’s meeting, we’ll review the results and decide from there.”

  “But, sire, how can we trust him?” the Baron asked, clearly agitated.

  “It’s not a matter of trust,” the King said. “What matters is his reasoning. Blind faith in economic policy is a dangerous approach. We need facts to support or reject proposals. Baron, compile the data and deliver it to Earl Robertson immediately.” With that, the King rose, etiquette prompting the rest of us to stand as well. “That’ll be all for today. Earl Robertson, we look forward to hearing your recommendations next week. Baron, get him the information. Good day, everyone.”

  [DING]

  [New Skill Tree unlocked – Economics]

  [New Skill achieved – Trade Sovereignty (Tier I) - lvl 1]

  You may now perceive trade pressure, tariff efficiency, and economic leverage.

  Improper use may destabilize markets.

  Proper use may reshape kingdoms.

  I saw the concern on Theresa’s face as she looked at me. I was just trying to understand the magnitude of what had just been given to me. Economics? I had taken a minor in that during my undergraduate studies to be in the same classes as Elizabeth, but that was so long ago. I wasn’t very good.

  I smiled and leaned toward her. “I got a new skill. I’ll explain later…” She relaxed upon hearing that and clenched my hand in acknowledgment.

  King Theron patted Theresa’s shoulder as he passed, followed by his three aides. I watched them go. Two of them didn’t carry themselves like typical aides. I quickly activated my analysis skill. Just as I suspected, soldiers were both in their mid-twenties. But what really caught my attention was the red dot blinking on my HUD.

  I felt the weight of the hatred before I heard Bishop Verant’s voice.

  “Princess.” He bowed slightly. “Earl. It’s been a few days since we last spoke. I trust all is well after your return from the north?”

  Beside him, Bishop Renat said nothing. He just stared at me, unblinking, unmoved. The red dot had to be him. Was he a threat?

  I started to plant my feet and get ready when… “Yes,” Theresa said, reaching out to grab my arm. She could feel the tension building in me. “All is well. Just spending time with my new family.” She squeezed my arm again to bring me back to center.

  “Yes… Setting up training with General Kitch and preparing for the trip back to Vaelthorn,” I added, clearing my throat.

  “Excellent. Oh, this is Bishop Renat,” Verant said. “He serves under Archbishop Ligier, the head of our church. He wanted to observe one of our economic meetings.”

  I extended my hand, but Renat only nodded, keeping his arms folded behind his back. I have a new name… Archbishop Ligier. Is he involved in the incident with Inquisitor Hermmons, or is it a solo act?

  “Bishop, we should be going…” he said flatly before turning and walking toward the exit. Verant gave a slight shrug and followed after him.

  “We should be going too, David,” Theresa said. “Aria picked up a book a few days ago. She wants to show us something she found in it.”

  “Show us?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s she planning to show?”

  Theresa was about to respond when Baron Winsket approached, appearing hesitant and unsure.

  “Excuse me, Earl…” he began.

  “Yes?” Theresa responded before I could speak.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

  “No, Baron,” she said with a perfectly straight face. “We were just talking about sex.”

  “Sex?” he echoed, eyes wide.

  “Yes. My husband is very… open to new experiences. And my sister-wife, well, she found something intriguing in a new book. Almost instructional,” she said calmly, then paused, noticing the Baron’s stunned expression. “Are you alright?”

  “I… didn’t realize you were married,” he said, struggling to regain his composure.

  “We were wed under the stars last week,” she said, pulling me close. I remained still, watching her work. “What was it, dear?” she asked me sweetly.

  “Divine,” I said, playing along.

  “Yes. Just divine,” she repeated dreamily. “It felt like the Gods themselves had blessed us… the stars were so magical…”

  For once, the Baron was speechless. He watched as Theresa buried herself against my side, all warmth and affection.

  “Baron, what was it you wanted to ask?” I said, breaking the silence.

  One of his staff stepped forward. “Earl, sir, we’d like to know where to deliver the data the King requested?”

  “Leave it with the staff at the entrance of the Black Tower,” I said. “She’ll be there with two Golems. It’ll reach me.” He bowed, then watched the Baron back away, without another word.

  “That sort of ended on a sour note,” I said, watching the Baron drag his cane behind him as his staff hurried to keep up.

  “Yeah,” Theresa replied, her eyes following the Baron’s group. “Pretty much the same as the few times I spoke with him, lots of buildup, and then… nothing.”

  “David,” General Kitch said, appearing at my right side. “I assume you’ll be staying in town for another week? Can I get you for a few more days of training then?”

  “Looks like it,” I replied. “But before we get too comfortable with that idea, we should check with Allira. More days of training are fine by me, but I don’t want to speak for her.”

  “Fair enough. It would benefit us either way. If I may ask, what’s your swordsmanship level now? It’s over thirty, isn’t it?”

  I glanced around. Only the Arch Mage stood nearby. No one else was close enough to overhear.

  “Fifty-one,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Hit that during the fight with the last demon general.”

  He blinked. “Fifty-one? Gods, man.” He rubbed his jaw, processing. “You just keep breaking the rules.”

  “I amaze myself,” I said with a grin. “I thought fifty was the cap. Now I’m wondering, does it go to a hundred? At fifty, I got the title SwordMaster. What would one hundred be? Master SwordMaster? Guess I’ll find out. Hmm. At two hundred, would it be Master Master Master SwordMaster? That’s a lot of masters…”

  Kitch stared at me, then let out a long sigh and shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.”

  “You can be both,” I offered with a smirk. “Come on. How about we treat a friend to lunch?” I offered.

  “Friend? I thought I was buying lunch,” Kitch replied.

  “You, sir, are closer to a friend than anything else. And after hearing that budget discussion, I’ll buy you lunch,” I chuckled, and he joined in.

  “But,” I added, “we’ve got to grab Allira first.”

  “That would be a wise decision, my dear,” Theresa said with a smirk.

  I turned to the Arch Mage, who had been quietly observing with amusement.

  “Arch Mage, lunch? My treat.”

  The Arch Mage gave a soft chuckle and a nod. “I’d be a fool to decline. Besides, it’s been too long since I dined in good company.”