The door opened.
Commander Valerius stood there, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He looked tired and annoyed. He saw who it was, and his expression did not change.
"Huh?" he said, his voice a low grumble. "What the fuck do you want, Prince Ivan."
"I need to find Jin," Ivan said. He got straight to the point.
Valerius scoffed. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing orange in the dark hallway. "He's gone. Left on one of his 'trips'."
"Where?" Ivan pressed, stepping closer. "It's important. The Devourers are in the Golden Plains."
"I know," Valerius said, blowing a stream of smoke to the side. "The First Legion is mobilizing. It's not your concern."
"It is my concern! My brother is leading them into a trap!" Ivan said, his voice full of desperation.
Valerius's eyes narrowed. The lazy annoyance was gone, replaced by a sharp focus. "What did you say?"
Ivan repeated his warning about the ambush. He used his "I read it in a book" lie again. He described an enemy that used swarming tactics and lured armies into narrow passes.
Valerius was silent. He looked at Ivan with a new, analytical expression. He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving Ivan's.
"Even if that were true, I can't help you," he said finally. "To Jin, those trips matter more than the entire kingdom. And where he goes is a secret I'm not allowed to share."
"Please, Commander," Ivan pleaded, his voice cracking. "My brother... Alaric... he won't listen to me."
Commander Valerius looked at him sharply. "Do not disrespect the Crown Prince, Ivan. I will not allow it. I will not tolerate it, even from you."
"I said my brother is in real danger!" Ivan shot back, his frustration boiling over. "Don't you understand!"
Valerius just stared at him for a long, hard moment. Then, he turned and walked back into his office. "Come in, Prince. And close the door."
Ivan entered. The office was sparse. It was a soldier's room. Maps covered one wall. Weapon racks lined another. There was a simple wooden desk and two chairs.
"The First Legion is the pride of the Empire," Valerius said, his back to Ivan as he looked at the maps. "They are the sharpest sword in your father's arsenal. Are you saying they are not capable of handling this?"
"A sword is useless if you swing it at empty air," Ivan said, his voice firm. "They are walking straight into a trap, Commander."
Valerius turned. He unrolled a large map of the Golden Plains on his desk. It was covered in markings and notes. "You said the ambush would be in a narrow pass. Show me."
Ivan walked to the desk. He used his memory from his past life. He scanned the detailed map. He found the spot. He pointed to a thin, winding canyon carved through a series of hills. "Here. The Gilded Canyon."
Valerius stared at the map for a long time. He traced the path of the canyon with his finger. He was silent. The only sound was the ticking of a clock on the wall.
"This is the fastest route to the affected region," Valerius noted. "Alaric will almost certainly choose it."
"Exactly," Ivan said. "It's the logical choice. That's why it's the perfect trap."
"If you are wrong," Valerius said finally, his voice a low murmur, "and I act on this... my career is over. I will be court-martialed for interfering with a direct order from the Emperor."
Ivan hesitated. His memory was not perfect. The timeline had already changed. What if he was wrong? What if he sent Valerius on a fool's errand and ruined the one powerful man who might actually listen to him? The weight of the decision was immense.
He pulled his hand back from the map.
"Actually..." he said, changing his plan on the spot. "I will go. As a scouting party. A small party of students. You just have to approve this."
Valerius looked up from the map. He stared at Ivan as if he had just grown a second head.
"So," he said, his voice full of disbelief. "You want me to trust you to lead some kids to their death. Tell me, Ivan. Have you lost your fucking mind?"
"No," Ivan said. "I'm the only one who knows the danger. I can guide them."
"Guide them? You failed the survival test. You were eliminated against a simple fucking bear. You are a fourteen-year-old boy with no field experience. You would be a liability, not a leader."
'This fucking stone head won't understand,' Ivan thought, his own frustration reaching its peak. He had tried logic. He had tried pleading. Nothing worked.
He made a desperate, foolish decision.
"Then I will go alone," Ivan declared. "I don't need your approval. I am a Prince of this Empire. I can requisition a horse and supplies."
"No, you can't," Valerius said flatly. "Not without your father's seal. And he will not give it to you for this."
"Then I will sneak out."
"And be caught by the city guard before you even reach the gates," Valerius countered, his voice full of cold logic. "You are being a child."
"I am not a fucking child!" Ivan yelled, his control finally snapping.
He immediately reached into the small pouch on his belt. He was going for his knife.
But before his fingers could even close around the hilt, Valerius moved.
He was a blur. One moment he was behind the desk, the next he was in front of Ivan.
A powerful kick slammed into Ivan's chest.
He flew backward and crashed into the weapon rack, sending swords and spears clattering to the floor. He slid to the ground, gasping for breath, pain exploding in his chest.
Valerius stood over him, his expression cold and utterly unimpressed.
"Do you think a month of training would be enough to negotiate with me using your physical strength, Ivan?" he asked.