My class Death Knight is just barely legal…

I felt kind of small around the four tier 6’s that occupied the room. Any classer that reached that tier would have a large amount of points placed into constitution, which made them look like they weren’t even human anymore. It would be more accurate to compare them to trolls. Only the guild head of the witch hunter’s guild, Rashid, seemed to break this stereotype.

The man that I now knew as the king of Roa, however, seemed to take this idea to a whole new level. He was sitting on a couch built to seat three people, yet he alone filled it up.

After my uncle introduced him, his smile widened and he gave a small wave in our direction.

If Cerion was as surprised by his identity as I was, he didn’t show it. Since we were here on official business, he had donned his ‘noble demeanor’ as I called it. With a polite smile, he bowed at the waste.

Momentarily hesitant, I moved to copy Cerion’s bow.

The large man just held out his hands and chuckled.

“No need to bow, youngsters. I hope you don’t mind if I joined you all in this conversation. I had some time to spare today, and since this meeting somewhat concerns me as well, I decided to come.” he placated us calmly.

Guild head Rashid cackled. “Don’t lie, Randal. You were just bored with your palace’s politics and decided to come here to play around!”

The king laughed quietly, while my uncle chuckled along, dissipating the tension that had settled in the room.

“Well, don’t remain standing on my behalf! Sit, sit!” the royal continued, gesturing for us to sit down next to our respective family members.

Thankfully, my uncle wasn’t quite as well-built as the king, and there was plenty of space on his left for me to sit down. Cerion similarly joined his father. Now that we were all present, my uncle took the lead again, seemingly unaware of his majesty’s presence.

“So, Arthur. How did your dungeon run go? From what I have heard it was your second ever dungeon clear?” he inquired.

From his tone and way of speaking, I noticed that he had the same habit as Doran, where he always seemed to speak in a slightly official tone.

“It went fine, I think. We managed to clear it and got some great rewards, as well as maxing out our tier 2 levels at level 50. We had some trouble with some of the bosses’ gimmicks, but in the end we reacted in time before we were defeated.”

“Impressive. Not many classers can fight above their tier. On top of that, you two headed into that dungeon alone, completely outnumbered. If we sent parties made up of 25 tier 2 aspirant royal guards, none would return alive. Should I have known this would happen when your uncle informed me of your request?” the king responded mildly, rubbing his chin in thought.

Cerion moved to respond.

“In truth, the tier difference was a noticeable issue in our fights. The monsters outside of the city weren’t a challenge, but each of the bosses in the inner city heavily outclassed us in almost every way, other than intelligence. Because of that, each battle turned into a race against time, where we had to find our opponent’s weakness before they made mince-meat out of us.”

Hearing this, the old man sitting to my left laughed, clearly enjoying our struggle.

“Good thinking, sending them to the city of tears, Robart! The only way to push them to the limit is to make them stare death in the face!”

I frowned. That sadistic old man just loved this, didn’t he.

“Seeing Arthurs stat screen, I was confident he would survive, at least.” my uncle joked lightly.

“Cerion is not so weak that he would die in a dungeon, either.” Duke Rass added stoically.

The person in question, though, turned red, no doubt remembering the incident involving the mind control, which could have meant his end if not for my interference.

Wisely, we both stayed silent.

“What did you think of the environment?” the king asked with a smile.

That question struck a note with the naturally curious Cerion, who started a tangent.

“It was positively spectacular! Such an alien environment…” he began.

Used to his behavior, I just tuned out the conversation for a few minutes, since I had heard this all before. Eventually, though, I heard my name being called. I rewinded what I had been asked in my head, thinking for a moment before responding.

“And you, Arthur?”

“It felt like a kid playing with its toys.” I replied curtly, uninterested in the hows and whys.

The king took my response seriously, however, and hummed in thought for a moment.

“An apt description. The reason for the dungeon’s strange behavior isn’t actually that abstract. The [City of Tears] is an artificial dungeon, made with a one-time-use tier 5 system item. It was created by my family to behave in the way it does, all to test and challenge out guards and soldiers. It’s meant to show that not all monsters behave, move and think in the same mindless pattern. It’s a great way to counter complacent mindsets and is, therefore, a valuable learning opportunity. When your uncle came to me with your request, I felt it fitting to give you two such an opportunity as well.

I don’t quite know how my ancestor got it to imitate human behavior, though, or where it got the inspiration to use ancient language and create statues from…” he finished with his calm, deep voice.

Cerion seemed positively shaking in excitement at this information. The idea of curated dungeons was no doubt an interesting subject of study for him.

The stoic duke interrupted the conversation before Cerion could start asking questions again, though.

“Shall we talk about why we are actually here?” he said.

Cerion rubbed the back of his head embarrassedly, used to his father’s blunt approach.

Noticing the change in topic, my uncle took control of the conversation again.

“Of course. Now, as far as I understand, this budding friendship between the two of you started when Arthur headed to the Duke’s coldwater palace on the plateau, carrying a sword previously owned by one of the Duke’s loyal knights, correct?”

I nodded along to his explanation.

“Indeed. On one of my quests, I came across a necromance that had enthralled the corpses of several warriors and a mage. I defeated him in battle, but noticed one of the raised skeletons not obeying the necromancer’s commands. Instead, it simply sat there and waited for the battle to be over. After this aforementioned battle ended, I picked up the only belonging this skeleton had held onto and decided to get it appraised, which led me to the Duke’s palace.”

“The guild leader of the Reito witch hunter’s guild contacted me about the situation beforehand, which led to me trying to do a background check on him. I found out very little, save for the fact that he was somehow connected to you, Robart. Once he arrived, and I had confirmed his involvement in my knight’s demise, I offered him one chance to ask me for a favor. Instead of asking for a tangible reward, he asked for my support.”

The king looked at me, surprised by my actions.

“You asked for his support? Why?”

“I didn’t know my uncle’s identity. This is just the second time I’m meeting him. Before, I thought he was just one of the subordinate guards. I didn’t really want to get involved in politics at all, I would rather have just focussed on my class level and skill progression, but my affinity forced me to set up some contingencies, just in case. I didn’t know who to turn to, so I sought out the duke for help.”

“Right, I see now. A curious situation, by the way, your affinity. That system error benefitted you quite a bit. I remember a report about your situation, coming from a class appraiser, but I didn’t pay much attention to it at the time. Look at how far you’ve come in just a few months!” the blond man said kindly.

My uncle just sighed.

“I am sorry you felt you couldn’t turn to me, Arthur. Don’t doubt that I, too, will support you, as long as you uphold chivalric values.”

I smirked a little when I heard how seriously he took such an outdated custom, but quickly readjusted my attitude, since, at its core, I did agree with those values.

“So you accepted young Arthur’s request to worm your way deeper into the royal faction, Rass?” the hunched-over guild head said mockingly.

“Isn’t that why you are here as well?” Cerion’s father shot back instantly.

Rashid burst out in a fit of laughter, amused by his words.

“It is, actually!” he finished.

My uncle just shook his head and sighed at their antics.

“We must keep in mind the repercussions of officiating this alliance, however. Duke Rass has always leaned towards the Royal faction, but adding the witch hunters’ guild and possibly the church with it would form a genuine power block formed by 6 tier 6 classers, if you include the bishop and the army’s marshall. While the mercenary and adventurer guilds won’t react for fear of creating tension with the church elsewhere on the continent, the Aristocratic faction will no doubt become more desperate for a win. The royal tournament is the perfect stage for them to turn the tides and end this alliance before it even starts. Are you sure now is the time for this, my king?” Robart asked, his question directed at the large man sitting across from him.

The large man just sighed and lightly shook his blonde mane.

“I’m afraid we don’t have any other choice. The geopolitical scene of the entire continent is slowly shifting, with countries and empires uniting and breaking apart seemingly every few years. If Roa wants to stand strong amidst the escalating chaos, we must show a unified front, which we can’t achieve as long as Duke Borko and Archduke Cerithal are against my rule. If it just came down to political differences there would be no major issues, but I’m afraid the Archduke holds a grudge that exceeds his patriotism for our country. I hope to convince Duke Borko to switch sides in a few years. For that to happen, all of the aristocrat’s hope must be snuffed out.” he half-whispered menacingly.

It seemed that our King wasn’t a lion without teeth, after all.

“I wouldn’t worry if I were you, Randel. Even with no royal princes or princesses participating in the tier 2 bracket, we have a lot of talents participating in the tournament this year. There’s no way we lose!” Rashid said, stretching out on his couch.”

“It’s pronounced ‘Randrusal’, Rashid.” the king sighed.

“That’s what I said.” the old man replied stubbornly.

“Regardless, I’m still a little worried. My son will be participating in the tier 3 bracket, but I can’t rely on him for gaining us the necessary momentum. Even with his talents, he won’t be able to compete with the old monsters that stalled at the peak of the third tier for the last few centuries.

That means that dominating the tier 2 category is the only way to gain the necessary prestige to get this little alliance into the public eye.” he finished.

At this, we all turned pensive.

After a moment of silence, I spoke up.

“Though the guild head might have put it rudely, he is correct in his assessment. Cerion and I make for a great team, so barring exceptions, we are practically guaranteed to win the doubles tournament. As for the singles tournament…”

Judging from the older men’s expressions, the wicked grin on my face was enough to convince them of my confidence.

I had a sword to win and a lot to prove, after all.