The banquet had ended, but the echoes of whispered words and suspicious glances clung to Damian like smoke. The royal capital was radiant under the night sky, lanterns swaying gently along marble streets, but he could feel the weight of eyes trailing him as he and his team left the palace gates.
Elara walked quietly at his side, her expression unreadable, though her hand occasionally brushed the hilt of her staff. Rowan, however, was less subtle.
"Oi, Damian," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. "Don't tell me you didn't notice. Half those nobles were practically foaming at the mouth. You've made a storm."
Damian kept his gaze forward. "I noticed."
The AI's voice chimed inside his head, calm and precise.
"Assessment: 74% probability multiple noble factions will attempt recruitment, manipulation, or elimination. Recommend heightened vigilance."
"Recruitment, manipulation, elimination, huh? That's all?" Damian muttered under his breath, lips barely moving.
Elara's sharp eyes caught the whisper. "Talking to yourself again?" she teased lightly, though her tone carried curiosity.
"Something like that," Damian said flatly.
They returned to their inn, a modest but secure place in the capital's merchant district. The moment the door shut behind them, Rowan leaned against the wall and folded his arms.
"Alright, spit it out. That wasn't just some banquet. What in the hell was that tension between you and those nobles?"
Damian thought back to the confrontation the way one particular noble, draped in violet robes, had locked eyes with him during the feast. His words had been polite, his smile gracious, but beneath it Damian had felt venom.
"They're curious," Damian said finally. "And curious men in power are dangerous."
Rowan snorted. "That's putting it lightly."
Elara spoke next, her voice calm, like ripples on water. "The nobles and the court are fragmented into factions. Some loyal to the King, others seeking power for themselves. When someone like you appears, Damian strong, mysterious, and clearly not from any known lineage they won't rest until they figure out which side you stand on."
"Or erase me if I don't pick a side," Damian finished.
Elara met his gaze, her silver hair gleaming in the candlelight. "Exactly."
The AI's voice slipped in again, almost like a warning.
"Recommendation: Strengthen position through controlled reputation growth. Avoid unnecessary exposure until Level 10 milestone is achieved."
Damian exhaled slowly. "Then I'll do what I always do focus on getting stronger. Let them scheme all they want. When the time comes, no faction will be able to control me."
Rowan grinned wide, clapping him on the back. "That's the spirit! Still, don't think you're walking alone in this. If anyone tries anything, they'll have to go through me first."
Elara gave a small smile of her own. "And me."
For a brief moment, warmth flickered in Damian's chest. It was unfamiliar, unsettling… but not unwelcome.
Still, his gaze hardened as he turned toward the window, looking out at the glowing spires of the capital. Somewhere beyond those lights, he knew, enemies were already moving.
And sure enough
In the dark of a nearby alley, three shadows watched the inn.
The thief girl leaned against the wall, twirling a dagger between her fingers. "So, the banquet boy returns to his inn. Funny, isn't it? The first time we spotted him was after he bought that ridiculous outfit from that dusty little shop. Thought he was just another lucky adventurer back then."
The noble-robed man chuckled, voice smooth as silk. "And yet here he is, drawing the King's attention. That little purchase wasn't a whim it was a declaration. He's growing, and quickly."
The silent swordsman rested his hand on his weapon, eyes narrowing.
The noble's smile widened. "He embarrassed us once when we tried to test him. That was our mistake. This time, we'll be ready. And when the mask he's wearing finally cracks, we'll see the truth of what he really is."
The capital slept, but the shadows of power had already begun to stir.
And Damian unaware of how quickly the storm was forming closed his eyes that night with a single thought in his mind.
If they want to test me… let them come.