Henderson clutched the letter in his hands tightly, the force making it crinkle, fingers digging into the paper.

His eyes were so wide that they looked like they would pop out of their sockets any moment now. The young woman behind Arzan walked to the light. Her walk emanated a certain grace only a noble would’ve been trained to, but the aura— it sent chills prickling down his spine.

He knew who she was— Princess Amara.

She moved steadily with an almost haunting calmness. Her posture was regal even though she wore a plain commoner’s dress.

Behind her, a timid maid trailed. Her eyes widened and darted as if afraid even to breathe too loudly in her mistress’s presence in this situation.

The scene that unfolded made it seem like a nightmare he wished to wake up from.

To make things worse, his dead lover’s body lay sprawled on the floor. Her body slack, eyes open and glassy with death. She somehow looked older now that she was dead. He looked back up, not allowing his mind to drift from the singular, all-consuming fear clawing its way up to his throat. Because right now, it didn’t matter that she was gone; the greater horror was walking right in front of him.

When Hendrerson first heard of Count Arzan’s battle against the beasts, he dismissed the young noble’s rise as a tale exaggerated by rumour— a figurehead with a few skilled knights and a small claim to fame. Nothing more than that. He’d never once considered that Arzan would have artifact-bearing warriors, let alone drive forward with a power that swept away his defenders.

Arzan— he’d dispatched a second-circle Mage with a single blow. That image played in his mind over and over and over. At this moment, he realised Arzan wasn’t just a rumour. He was a tempest.

Henderson’s flimsy barriers were nothing against it.

It wasn’t as if he was counting on his walls and forces all along. He’d devised a desperate plan— one he hadn’t imagined he’d actually need to put into action. Fake letters. Bluffing that Prince Eldric and Princess Amara had recognised him had been the boldest stroke, a risk he’d taken with the wild hope that it would buy enough time for Duke Lucian Kellius and Prince Eldric to notice him for real, see the fit to sponsor his claim in the City of Veridis.

But never, not in his darkest nightmares, had he imagined that the princess herself would appear on his doorstop, in the flesh.

The cold pit in his stomach churned as she came to a stop just below the place he stood, her chin raised, her eyes piercing straight into him. If looks could kill, he would be six feet buried.

As soon as she walked and questioned his words, he recognized who she was. Henderson had been to the balls in the capital early in his life, so he recognised her from one of those. Back then, there had been a smile on her face when she had greeted nobles all around her, but now, there was only a scowl looking back at him.

His breath caught in his throat, a pathetic, strangled squeak managing to escape. “P-Princess Amara… you are here… actually…”

The scowl deepened as he spoke. Her gaze, cold as frost, slid to the letters in his grasp.

Henderson tried again to open his mouth to claim his innocence, his lips forming a weak, unfinished denial, when Princess Amara’s scoff cut through the air— disdain thickly layered in her voice.

“What?!” she said. “I have never issued a letter of support to you, whoever you are. Nor to anyone else. And I can assure you”—her gaze slid over his hand once again– “That if any such letter were in existence, I would have known the man I gave it to. Perhaps, I should inspect those,” she added, narrowing her eyes. “To see what I have written in those letters that I don’t remember sending.”

Henderson felt his insides twist. His mouth went dry, as he watched her turn away from him, already dismissing his presence as if he were nothing more than a bug she’d swatted aside.

Her attention shifted to the man clad in fine robes, who had yet to make a move. He still hovered in the air, watching Princess Amara carefully.

“Baron—Count Arzan,” she said, almost forgetting his new title. “I apologise for our second meeting being under such… circumstances.”

Count Arzan floated gracefully to the ground. Henderson’s gaze darted to him, seeking some sign of reaction, but Arzan’s expression remained composed. Still, there was a hint of something in those eyes— something that seemed just on the edge of a laugh, as if he felt the absurdity of the scene but had the restraint not to show it.

Arzan dipped his head in a bow, and offered a smooth smile. “Princess Amara, come out it’s good to see you again,” He greeted warmly, his tone lad with a casual familiarity that made Henderson’s skin prickle. “You look far more radiant than the last time we crossed paths.”

Princess Amara’s expression softened just a touch, though her eyes remained fixated on him with sharp interest. Before she could reply, Arzan turned, his gaze hardening as it settled on Henderson.

“Now,” he said, his voice sounding unhurried, “let me take care of this pest.”

Let me take care of this pest, the words rang in Henderson’s mind. Finality, that was what came to him— and then pressed down on to his very bones. Cold panic seeped into his chest, spreading through him like a Mage had just froze him. He felt as if he had no escape, but a small part of his mind still looked for one, a chance— any chance.

Could he even try to hold his ground against Arzan and his knights? Did he have any hope of stopping the approaching Count? Those questions troubled him.

His vision flickered to the scattered remains of his forces, lying defeated on the blood-soaked earth, whimpering, moaning and in so much pain and then moved to Esmira’s lifeless body beside him, her face frozen in that last moment of terror.

His hand tightened on his sword, the reality crashing down around him, heavy as iron chains.

There was nothing left. He was alone, surrounded by his failures, his dreams of victory reduced to blood, bones and lifeless souls.

Arzan soared forward, his movements looked extremely measured, his figure demanding attention, but all the while exuding a calm that only intensified the dread pooling in Henderson’s gut.

Each second felt like an eternity as despair clouded his mind.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I… have no choice. Not now, not ever with someone who is strong like…. That. There’s no ounce of fear in his eyes, no ounce of doubt in his strides.

In one final, desperate motion, Henderson’s fingers went slack. The sword clattered to the ground beside him, the metalling ring punctuating the air. Slowly, he lowered himself to one knee, his head bowed. The taste of bitter surrender filled his mouth, disgusting his very being.

“I… I surrender,” he choked out, his voice coming out barely more than a whisper.

Arzan stopped in his tracks immediately, his robes moving to the wind. He looked at him with his eyes narrowed.

“Good.” That was all he said at first. “At least you know when to give up– unlike many others.”

Henderson barely had the chance to breathe—a sigh of relief before he saw it— a flash of movement in Arzan’s hand, followed by a sudden, sharp crack.

A whip, blazing and swift, arced through the air toward him, and Henderson’s world snapped to blackness before he felt the blow.

***

Kai sighed, his gaze drifting over the field as the blood and the disruptions were getting cleared.

Am I cursed to forever contend with nobles and their schemes? He wondered, feeling the heaviness of yet another political entanglement settle on his shoulders.

If anything, Veridis had been far too easy to reclaim, too smooth a victory over the forces of Henderson, who was now shackled in chains and put on display in the middle of the city— a constant reminder for the people to know what would happen if you decide to become a traitor for your own land.

And yet, even as he showed no leniency for Henderson, he had chosen a different path for the men who stood against him.

He had ordered his Enforcers to avoid any lethal strikes, knowing that these very men would soon fall under his banner. Injuring them but sparing their lives sent a message— one of strength tempered with mercy. Now, a steady stream of guards lined up for treatment, receiving hastily dispensed healing potions, while medics worked to patch up their wounds. The scent of the potions mingling with the sweat, dirt and blood of the battlefield created an oddly sombre atmosphere.

As he watched, he felt the crowd’s eyes on him. The city people had gathered in numbers, their faces showing different emotions and questions. Some people gossiped among each other, feeding into the curiosity, hope and trepidation. They looked his way, searching for answers, guidance, and maybe the intentions of the new ruler.

Kai knew he would need to address them, deliver a speech that would both erase their concerns and secure his authority in Veridis.

It was the first step in earning their trust, establishing a foundation that could stabilise the city.

But he noticed that not all eyes were on him, many eyes were also drawn to Princess Amara, who sat off to the side with her maid close by, both flanked by two of his guards.

Her presence alone was enough to set the rumour mill ablaze. It hadn’t helped that she had openly declared her identity, an impulsive move that had only fueled the whispers that were now spreading through the crowd.

His mouth pressed into a thin line. He had half-expected Amara to appear eventually, knowing her condition would worsen with time. But he hadn’t expected her arrival here, in the middle of a reclamation, surrounded by half-healed soldiers and gossiping cityfolk.

I guess it would take more than a few words to handle this situation with what it demanded— grace, calmness and strategy.

At least the timing, though inconvenient, offered some advantage. Her presence lent him a legitimacy he hadn’t anticipated needing.

Her involvement, however unplanned, would assure people of his status, of his standing within the kingdom’s hierarchy. But he could already feel the unspoken expectations that were settling over him, the strings that nobles and royalty alike would no doubt try to attach. And questions— he felt so many questions being thrown at him, though no one dared to speak them up.

Ah, this all is just too much— but what can I do now?

He exhaled, straightening.

Killian stood at his side, his eyes tracking the crowd before landing on the princess sitting nearby. “What are we going to do now?” he asked.

Kai didn’t miss the look in Killian’s eyes— his knight wasn’t just asking about the city. “Take over Veridis, persuade the citizens that a change in leadership is the best thing for them.” he replied smoothly, “We’ll start community kitchens here, keep the streets safe, and make it clear that things are going to improve. I will give them my promise.” he paused, giving Killian a knowing look. “But I know that’s not what you’re really asking.”

Killian nodded. “I meant Princess Amara.”

Kai glanced at Amara, where she sat under the watch of his guards. “I can’t exactly stop her from being here, you know. Her reasons for coming here are her own, but the nobles will know about it within a month. The crown will hear of it in a week or two, depending on how her disappearance is handled. From her appearance, I’d wager she sneaked out without a guard— a princess alone, showing up unannounced without anyone hovering over her for protection? That’s bound to turn a few heads.

“It could become a headache. But we need her to stay in Veralt for a while,” Kai said.

Killian nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we discussed that before. But do you think she will agree to it?”

“I will see about that. At least she came to me on her own, just as I expected.”

His mind went to their last meeting, when she had been so close to losing her life. He had left Amara that night with only a temporary solution to her ailment.

Since then, he knew she would seek him out again, especially as her condition worsened, and truthfully, he had counted on it. Amara’s ailment had offered him a perfect opportunity— a need he could fulfil, a bond he could reinforce in the future. Because she would be useful in the months ahead, her presence would lend legitimacy and sway.

It was a necessary step for what he had been working towards. And Killian and Francis knew about it, but the only thing was that Amara had arrived sooner than expected. It complicated things, but well, he had to work with this.

In the end, he hadn’t thought her appearance would be so… public.

Yet as he watched her with the crowd casting curious glances, talking about her as if she wasn’t even there, he knew he’d handle it somehow. He’d planned this for far too long to be thrown off now.

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Amara was making her way towards them after saying something to the guards.

Killian immediately dipped into a bow, stepping back in a posture of respectful silence.

She looked at Kai with some sort of assessment, as she stopped before them.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, her voice carrying a touch of irony, as if she knew precisely the effect her presence had caused. “But I wanted to ask if you plan to stay in Veridis for a while.”

Kai gave a courteous nod. “Not for much longer, Princess Amara. I’ll be holding a speech to outline the changes, then appointing an administrator to handle the city’s day-to-day affairs, along with my own people to keep watch. After that, I’ll be heading back to Veralt.”

She tilted her head, considering her words. “In that case, would it be all right if I travel with you? The merchant I arrived with lacks a carriage fit for long journeys. It’s just… uncomfortable.”

Kai gave a respectful nod. “It would be my honour, princess.” He looked at her more closely, allowing her gaze to soften just a fraction. “How is your heart now?”

Amara’s smile faltered just slightly, though she quickly masked it with a nod. “It’s… manageable. But it’s weakening, I feel it strongly. I’m sure you already guessed.” She glanced around before taking a small step forward. “We can speak more about it when we’re somewhere more private. For now, though, I have a few questions.”

“What kind?”

“Oh, just the kind that satisfies curiosity.”

She smiled a little at her own words.

“Huh?”

“Word of defence against the beast wave has reached every corner of the capital. It’s the talk of every ball, the subject of every noble’s interest. But I’d rather hear the tale from you, Count Arzan, than let myself be swayed by gossip and rumours. So, would you be kind enough to tell me the whole tale?”

***

A/N – You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep