Astra's inner domain was unlike any other—he had known this for as long as he could remember, yet he had never spoken of it aloud.
Trust was a rare and brittle thing for him. He had grown up on the outskirts, in streets steeped with hunger and betrayal, among people who would sell a soul for the stale crust of a loaf. In such a place, secrets were survival.
Now, he stood upon the threshold of that secret world—his inner domain. Here, reality folded upon itself, time scattered and slowed, and the very air seemed to recognize him.
The celestial expanse above stirred at his arrival. Stars did not merely shine; they shifted, their brilliance bending as though alive, twisting and undulating in response to an unseen rhythm. The heavens quivered, galaxies unspooling in slow, deliberate spirals, their vast arms stretching toward the abyss. Light bled into darkness like ink poured into deep water—an ancient stain spreading through infinity.
In the distance, nebulae bloomed: veils of violet, gold, and deep crimson drifting through the void in a slow, hypnotic waltz. Their colors bled together like the dying breath of distant stars.
It felt as though the universe itself was holding its breath for him. Every shimmer and flicker in the boundless dark was an invitation to touch the unknown, to claim the power that lingered there.
Below, an ocean of infinity stretched into the abyss, a surface of black glass so perfect it might have been carved from obsidian. It was still—not lifeless, but waiting. The faintest ripples tremored across it, as though some colossal leviathan stirred far below. This was not the restlessness of wind or tide—it was a movement born of purpose, and it was aware of him.
No shores. No horizon. Only a vast and eternal sea, pressing against the edges of his mind, pulling at him with the promise of truths buried deeper than memory, deeper than time.
Above it all, his core pulsed—a single radiant star burning brighter than the galaxies that surrounded it. It was more than light; it was a living presence, the echo of a thousand lifetimes compressed into one heartbeat. Its glow was a piercing white-blue, so bright it fractured the fabric of the void around it, sending shivers of reality rippling outward. The hum of its power resonated in his bones, its rhythm one he could neither resist nor escape.
And there, suspended within that expanse, hung his sun—the manifestation of his mana core. But this was no sun of warmth or spring; it was a sun of stillness, of eternal calm. It bathed the cosmos in a dim, strange light that seemed to slow time itself. It felt cold. Distant. Untouchable. Yet it anchored him here, the axis upon which his entire power turned.
At the fringes of sight, shadows moved—tendrils of half-remembered fears and forgotten dreams, winding between the starlight. They beckoned like ghosts with the answers to questions he had not yet dared to ask.
The air thickened. The void seemed to lean in closer, as if waiting for him to decide something only he could decide. His inner domain was vast and beautiful, but also lonely—an endless, hollow cradle for potential yet unrealized. It was a place of creation and destruction, always expanding, always straining toward the unknown.
Then, the coin appeared.
Astra's fingers closed around it, and it pulsed—deep and resonant, like the sound of a door unlocking somewhere far beyond sight. The stars flickered. The shadows whispered more insistently. The infinite sea shivered. The Pawn coin shimmered in his grasp, casting lines of information, possible paths, visions of futures not yet written.
Mana reacted to him in strange ways. To some, it appeared as numbers. To others, as shapes, colors, sounds, even scents. It was a language without a common tongue—personal, intimate, different for every soul.
For Astra, mana was alive. It spoke not in words, but in impressions, in flashes of instinct. It could hint, it could warn, it could weave fragments of truth into the mind if one knew how to listen. The coins harnessed this magic, stabilizing the chaos, directing the current of calamity, standardizing what would otherwise be raw entropy. But advancement—true advancement—demanded more. It required understanding mana in its rawest, wildest state.
The thought sent a thrill racing through him.
Excitement welled in his chest, impossible to contain. The mana around him seemed to pulse in answer, as though it too anticipated the path ahead. The first step had been taken, and the infinite expanse waited for his will to shape it.
The shadows in Astra's domain awoke before anything else.At first, they stirred like a windless flame, thin ribbons of black unfurling from the edges of infinity. Then they began to coil and twist upon themselves, moving with a wild, almost ecstatic energy, like dancers in the throes of some forgotten ritual. They touched him—not like a thing touching flesh, but like thoughts brushing against thoughts, as if the shadows themselves were alive and aware of his presence.
They embraced him.
The stars overhead followed suit, answering in their own language. One by one, they brightened, their cold brilliance sharpening until the constellations looked carved into the fabric of space itself. Some shimmered faintly, like memories on the verge of vanishing; others flared with sudden intensity, as though the awakening of his power rippled across the whole sky.
Then the ocean moved.
It began with the smallest disturbance—a whisper of motion across its glassy surface, the faintest suggestion of a ripple. But the stillness had been so perfect, so absolute, that even this single tremor felt like a heartbeat returning to a long-dead body. The ripples widened, deepening into waves that rolled with a deliberate rhythm, not random, not wind-driven, but aware. The sea was answering him.
And at the heart of it all, the star began to burn.
It had always been the brightest thing in his inner domain, but now it grew almost painfully luminous. Its white light cut across the void, drowning the gentler glow of the constellations, outshining even the mirrored shimmer of the ocean. Heat radiated from it, yet Astra felt none of it—instead, a coldness sank into him, seeping deep into his bones. The brighter it burned, the more the chill took hold.
He had never seen his inner domain like this. Not in dreams, not in meditation, not even in the rare moments when his mana surged beyond his control.This was it—the complete, unrestrained manifestation of his potential.
The strength of the shadows.The depth of the ocean.The unreachable fire of the star.
All revealed to him now because of his Pawn coin.
The shadows spoke first.
Not with words—at least, not in the language of the waking world—but with something older, more instinctive. Their movements were speech. Their stillness was meaning. They drew closer, wrapping around his legs and arms, brushing against his neck and face, their presence both protective and possessive. They knew him. They knew the S-Rank affinity to shadow magic that coiled through his veins like dark lightning. And they welcomed him, as if to say, You are ours. You have always been ours.
The ocean's voice was different—slower, deeper.It was not urgent. It did not clamor for his attention. It simply… was.
Its rolling swells and still depths mirrored his A-Rank affinity to water magic. He was not a water mage in the technical sense, but he could feel the way it called to him—not with the fervor of the shadows, but with the quiet inevitability of tides. Its surface shifted to reflect his thoughts; its depths pulsed in answer to his heartbeat. It was patient. Ancient. It would wait for him to understand it fully, even if that understanding took a lifetime.
But the star… the star remained a mystery.
It was not hostile, nor was it welcoming. It simply was. Bright. Constant. Untouchable. An S-Rank affinity, yet unlike the shadows or the water, it had no desire to meet him halfway. He could feel its vast strength like a mountain at his back—unmovable, absolute—but it gave no hint that it might ever bow to his will.
And that unsettled him.
His other affinities whispered more quietly. Fire—C-Rank—lurked beneath it all, faint as the glow of a coal buried in ash. It would burn if fed, but for now, it slept. Light—A-Rank—felt closer, almost natural, and yet… muted. It existed as a counterbalance to the shadows, but it lacked their intimacy. It was like having a blade in your hand that was perfectly sharp, yet refused to cut when swung.
On parchment, his talent was the stuff of envy. In reality, it was raw ore—valuable, yes, but useless until refined.
Astra was painfully aware of this.He had no master's training, no scars from battles fought and won, no experience in testing his magic against another's will. His education came from scavenged scraps—old tomes, broken theories, stolen glimpses of the mana network's archives. He understood magic in principle, but not in practice. In a real fight, he would be like a scholar trying to swim in a storm—knowledge without instinct, theory without survival.
But that feeling remained. That unshakable sense that there was more to him. Something beyond the tidy metrics of letter rankings and measured affinities.
And it had everything to do with the star.
The shadows tightened around him now, their excitement spiking. The ocean's ripples grew sharper. The coin in his palm thrummed, mana coursing through it in strange shapes and impressions—symbols only he could perceive. Mana's language was never the same twice; for one mage, it might appear as numbers; for another, as colors or voices. For Astra, it came as shifting geometries of light and shadow, each configuration carrying meaning he could not always put into words.
His pulse quickened.
The coin was a key. He could feel it. But a key to what?
"There has to be a way," he murmured, his voice low and certain, the words swallowed by the abyss around him. His gaze fixed on the burning star."A way to make you hear me. A way to make the stars… heed my call."
And in the stillness that followed, he thought—just for an instant—that the star flared brighter.
As for Astra's combat skills… there was not much to boast about.
His swordsmanship was a crude, unfinished thing—shaped by necessity rather than instruction. He could cross blades with most warriors of his rank and walk away alive if luck favored him, but luck was fickle, and skill had a way of deciding whether the survivor stood or fell. His coin, ever blunt in its appraisals, loved to remind him of this fact. Inefficient stance. Unstable footing. Telegraphed swing. The criticisms were endless.
His Mastery for Basic Swordsmanship, a skill book he had bought for 30 silver standards was [5/7]. Terrible.
Hand-to-hand combat was a different story. Life in the outskirts of Duskfall had been a perpetual education in brawling—one paid for in bruises and split lips. The streets and taverns had been his training ground, and his instructors came in the form of mercenaries, thieves, dockside drunks, and the occasional traveling master too far gone in ale to care who they fought. He had learned from all of them, often at the cost of a bloodied nose, and built a respectable arsenal of techniques from many schools and none. He could hold his own without a blade, and often preferred to.
Intermediate Hand to hand combat was [3/7]
But none of that—not fists, not steel—was what haunted him.
It was the star magic.
The very phrase carried weight. Even in thought, it felt dangerous to name it.To Astra's knowledge, no one alive possessed it—not openly, at least. The only references he had ever uncovered were whispers buried in the dust of history, fragments of accounts in which nameless exiles wielded impossible power on ancient battlefields. No diagrams of their spells. No listed incantations. Only vague descriptions of effects so varied it was impossible to tell where truth ended and myth began—teleportation without sigil or anchor, destruction on a scale that erased fortresses from the earth, distortions of space that swallowed entire companies without trace.
The records were evasive to the point of deliberate censorship. Pages that should have contained tactical breakdowns instead offered poetic abstractions. The outcomes of these battles were listed, but not the means. And yet, Astra was no naive child—he had grown up knowing the world's darker machinery. He had seen how kingdoms erased inconvenient truths. How a day was enough time for a people to vanish, their memory ground into nothing.
Flaunting his star magic would be suicide. That much he understood.A mage who displayed an affinity that rare would vanish before nightfall—whether into the hands of a kingdom, a cult, or the grave was a matter of chance.
The coin had confirmed as much in its own infuriating way.
It recognized the affinity, but gave him almost nothing of value—no beginner techniques, no guidance on shaping the star's power. Instead, it buried him in the usual assortment of quest objectives: mana circulation exercises, elemental control drills, basic spell refinements. All useful, all generic. The kind nobles received were different—tailored techniques, hand-forged sword forms, military-grade battle strategies, even arcane formations passed down through bloodlines. But those required coinwork commissions, and such commissions were priced for the wealthy.
He could buy quests, yes—but the quality was unreliable, the rewards uncertain.
Only one quest the coin had given him stood apart. A mana quest. Rare, potent. The kind that was said to unlock the deepest wells of one's strength if completed. And its objective…
[Know the Night]
That was all. No map. No guidance. No key.
He had turned the phrase over in his mind a hundred times, tried a hundred interpretations. Was it literal—an instruction to explore the hours after sunset, to chase some celestial alignment? Was it metaphorical—urging him to seek the darkness within himself? Or was it something else entirely, something only the star magic itself could reveal?
The more he sought answers, the more the search unmade him.
It became an obsession. He trawled libraries for forbidden archives, chasing footnotes into dead ends. He read battle reports from centuries past, tracing the patterns of wars that had no victors. And always, that same paranoid thought whispered through his mind: If someone is watching me, they will know.
Star magic was not the kind of thing one could research without drawing attention. If a stranger were to notice his particular fixation, they would draw the obvious—and correct—conclusion. And then…
He didn't finish the thought.
"Maybe I'm just paranoid," he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping him. It was not the laughter of a man amused, but of one trying to keep from sinking too deep.
It drove him close to madness—having a magic so rare that it lived only in legend, and yet finding himself unable to coax even a flicker of it into being. It was like being told he carried a crown in his blood, only to find his hands too clumsy to lift it.
Deep down Astra had theories, A bastard child of some royal, a lost lineage, Perhaps even the olden eradicated house Night which actually used star magic, alas he had no way to know, he barley had access to public records let alone historical ones of importance.
He sighed, gaze sweeping across his inner domain one last time. The shadows swirled lazily at the edges of his vision. The ocean lay still again, mirroring the distant constellations. And high above, the star continued to burn—bright, remote, silent.
He pressed his will back into the waking world.
The transition was always jarring. The weight of the domain fell away, the impossible sky vanished, and Astra's eyes opened. Awareness flooded in—color, sound, scent. His pupils contracted, focusing on the here and now.
Intelligence returned to his gaze. And with it, purpose.He had a side quest to undertake—and coin did not gather itself.
He gazed around and saw the guards finally move, as he called upon the shadows around him, this was basic boosting, a rank one way to use the shadows called [shadows embrace] it made him decently faster and more hidden when he was in the shadows.
The violet twilight aurora made by the Tower of Dusk shimmered in the sky, the shadows danced from corner to corner, bright fireworks larger than the ones before continued to light up the sky and music hummed in the air, this made the bazaar which was littered with deep shadows his perfect hunting grounds.
Astra strolled through the gates leisurely and confidently as the shifting guards were busy and were not in some alert state.
He had finally entered the inner bazaar, normally nobles or rich individuals would show off their mage coins to enter in passing but this was hardly enforced.
Astra looked around for a second, He had only been here twice before.
At the heart of the bazaar, he saw towering banners of gold and crimson catch the fading light, their embroidered sigils shifting ever so slightly as though alive. The air is thick with the scent of exotic spices, enchanted incense, and mana. Sounds of soft laughter and lively conversation mingle with the chime of bells and the low hum of mana that pulses through the ground like a heartbeat.
There plenty of powerful Noblemen and women, draped in flowing robes of silk and velvet, strolling leisurely through the maze of stalls, their jewels glinting like stars, dressed in their festive Noble attires, some haggled with powerful sorcerers and adventurers, enchanted beasts, and magical artisans.
Their faces, though regal, are a mix of curiosity and wealth-fueled indulgence. They spoke clearly and tones that demanded respect, exchanging secrets of hidden relics and untold riches, their words barely louder than the rustle of cloth and the gentle clink of coins.
"Steady" Astra reminded himself, the last thing he needed was to stand out too much by not trying to stand out, getting arrested and beat would really ruin his year.
"It's really like a different world" he sighed as he saw the pure wealth accumulated here.
Stalls were overflowing with treasure, items beyond imagination. One merchant, a gnarled elf with eyes like liquid silver, offers crystalline vials that shimmer with strange, swirling mists, each containing a whisper of forgotten knowledge or a memory trapped in time.
Another vendor, a hulking half-orc clad in armor etched with runes, displays swords that hum with an ancient power—blades that seem to absorb the ambient light, their edges impossibly sharp. The swords pulse with a quiet menace, their hilts adorned with the bones of long-dead creatures and glinting with gemstones that glow faintly in the twilight. these items gave off the strong aura of rank two, some even coming very close to rank three. this showed just how powerful dusk full truly is, to have its bazaar littered with rank two artifacts.
Nearby, a curious vendor sells enchanted beasts—miniature rank two lower wyverns that coil around their owners' wrists like living bracelets, rank two and one feathered peacocks that stretch their wings as if remembering an ancient sky, and a rare rank three panther-like creatures with shifting fur that blends into their surroundings like shadows. The creatures seem both tame and wild, and their eyes flicker with an intelligence that unsettles some and delights others. contained by specialist rank two beast tamers and trapped in powerful mana cages.
"What if I just set them free here? would they run away or simply slaughter anyone weaker?" he lampooned
A pair of wizened, hooded figures sit beneath a golden canopy, their hands moving in intricate gestures as they weave illusions from nothing, crafting living scenes out of light and shadow—fey gardens, swirling storms, landscapes of distant lands. Their wares are not objects but experiences, memories, and dreams spun into tangible forms. many gathered to converse and share experiences, these figures gave off faint rank two auras, however their quality was that of the pinnacle of rank two, famed adventurers.
Astra steered clear of them.
Above the din, the faint sound of a haunting melody drifts through the air—a lone bard perched atop a stone balcony, playing a harp woven from ancient wood. The music lures passersby, offering them an escape from the market's endless bustle, wrapping them in a moment of quiet magic. Hoping to get some coin.
Astra was excited to see such a area, he had barely any access to such exclusive upper class centers and seeing the new marvels brought from all of the realms for the festival was really entertaining, yet he felt something off. It was really subtle. Almost as if its not all is as it seems. He had heard rumors the rumors.
Hidden in the deeper corners of the bazaar, shadowed by towering stalls, one can find darker things—enchanted items that carry a price greater than mere legacy coin, ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge, and cursed relics that whisper promises of untold power. Beneath the layers of opulence, there is a sense of danger, a knowledge that in such a place, even the nobility might not be what they seem. or so the rumors say, Astra however felt the subtle aura of malice and dark humor in the air, there was without a doubt darkness here.
Its natural for one to see some jesters here and there after all, it wasn't illegal to be one per say but it was definitely frowned upon and they were ridiculed, but alas what's mere rank ones and twos going to do to a full on rank three, most Jesters were adventures and mercenaries of dark organizations and groups. They hid themselves and desires when in city centers to not attract unnecessary attention.
He sighed hoping not to find himself under some powerful jesters gaze.
The sky above deepens as the twilight had become even more powerful for some reason.
Astra even felt a subtle premonition
The bazaar took on an even more ethereal glow now, as the magic in the air intensified. It was truly a place of wonder, wealth, and power, where bargains are struck between those with real power.
Astra was still glued to the shadows as he was without a doubt one of the weakest beings in the bazaar, he was a mere rank one with zero real training and no titles to claim. Meanwhile the average rank here was two and three and they all were wealthy.
He couldn't help but sigh
Astra reached a darker less populated part of the bazaar and hid from shadow-to-shadow, he went behind empty stalls and into empty houses looking through chests, most the people who inhabited such a place were out enjoying the festivities and he wasn't dumb enough to try pickpocketing literal rank twos,
"Not bad" he muttered as he counted five major legacy coins, they had the emblem of dusk and were grayish black he also managed to snag some valuable low rank mana stones.
Legacy coins were the form of currency in the realms as metals such as gold and silver were abundant in fact some mages even wielded them, legacy coins carried a special mint from the ruling house of the land thus giving it value and at the highest standards could replenish ones mana and in the right hands they can even be used as catalysis in crafting rare items. The coins came in five forms or standards as they were called, the lowest standard being the copper standard, silver standard, gold standard, diamond standard and finally magic standard, the copper and silver were being classified as minor where the gold diamond and magic standards being classified as major coins, for simple transactions such as food and simple clothing minor coins were mostly used and for large transactions such as armor housing and other large and expensive items the major coins were used.
1 Magic standard which was the highest standard a coin could reach was worth 100 diamond standards, 1 diamond was worth 100 gold and 1 gold was worth 100 silver, 1 silver was worth 100 coppers.
From what Astra knew of the current wealth to standard ratio.
A Magic Standard was the type of Standard Governments, Houses, Churches, Divinty dealt with, possessing such wealth as a mortal was not only dangerous it was wasteful. A magic standard could buy an army.
A diamond standard could buy an estate in todays market, a thousand could perhaps buy a castle.
A 100 gold standards could buy a small middle class house.
A loaf of bread was worth 5 coppers, meat 10, wine and alcohols depended but ranged around 3-5 for common types, average housing rent was 3-5 silvers in the worst areas, low quality armor of rank one was worth 50 silvers, a low quality sword of rank was around 25 silvers, anything rank two was in golds value. Astra himself had a sword but it broke long ago leaving him to knives and daggers which all were the lowest and cheapest possible quality.
Astra had 10 minor standard coins, he was broke to the point where he couldnt afford to buy food.
Gods im so broke he laughed
as his eyes eventually found a fat and old drunken noble who was on the verge of blacking out, the noble was quite literally in a dark corner sitting away from the festivities, Astra looked around and lowered himself as he simply took a bag of coins, from the unsuspecting Noble who was drunk out of his mind. the Noble gave off rank two aura, but he could not even function properly, if Astra really wanted to he could easily kill him and no one would even know.
"How is he a noble" Astra sighed as he shook his head slightly amused.
Perhaps he had a guard, astra looked around again now far away from the blacked out noblemen.
The old fat guy seemed to have one guard, and that said guard was busy flirting with an elvish servant.
Astra had to say that servant was extremely pretty even for elven standards. She looks uncomfortable, gods I really feel for her, He would know how annoying it is to gave someone in power try and take advantage of you. Astra secretly prayed to the gods that she ends up fine as he knew exactly how it felt to be pressured by those in power, as a certain Noble woman came up to mind again. he couldn't help but shudder.
Hmm house palm tree, a minor house in Shadows domain, they once were a medium tier house but they had fell from what Astra remembered, it was kind of sad to see.
Astra lowered his gaze as he walked away from the scene and hid in the shadows behind a building, He was elated at the 5 gold standards! The most he's had was one at 50 silvers ! And that was a result of him swindling an old Noble lady who wanted to use his body! He shivered at the thought. "I really don't wanna remember why do I keep remembering ugh..."
Nothing good comes from greed he repeated, this was a value instilled to him through countless harsh failures and lessons, he planned on leaving instantly.
As he made up his mind to leave the upper bazaar Astra suddenly felt a thick and heavy gaze lock onto him, this made the hairs on the back of his nick stand as his body started to shake, he felt like a deer that was being stalked by an apex predator! No this was worse, like an ant under the gaze of an incarnation of ruin and rebirth"What the?" Astra felt as if he had a second before he was done for.
Astra listened to his instincts and immediately used a combination of magic
He flooded the surrounding mana with water as he commanded water instantly was summoned around him in a dome shape.
This was a common rank one spell! [Water Dome] but he wasn't done yet as at the same time he also used
[light of the sun] creating this small blinding affect like orb of light and. he combined, he wasn't done yet however, he used the light of the sun and shot it through the water dome as it collapsed, the shadows retreated and many people now were looking into the now bright alleyway confused at who dared cast such a distracting spell in the upper bazaar, the Duskguards hurried over and even Dusk knights casted their gazes over the area, the tension rose, and Astra booked it as he retreated the gazed upon him flickering and faltering
Astras use of magic was truly innovative, the gaze seemed to waver and as Astra booked it into the through the dark alleyway into the side entrance that seemingly led to the lower city.
He went through a stairwell that descended all the way to the lower city where the shadows were even deeper. Astra called upon the shadows as they embraced him once more...
...….
Upper Bazaar
"What the fuck ugh, that hurt!" a blonde elven women yelled out as she rubbed her eyes, a frown on her face
"My Princess please watch your tongue" replied the man next to her,
The pair was sporting two regal dark green cloaks with the sigil of an ancient archaic bow on them,
In the crowded bazaar, the elven princess moved like a ghost, her dark green robe shimmering faintly with silver threads. Her curious eyes, one a Saphire blue with Flecks of Gold, the other a Midnight Purple with specks of red inside glanced through the chaos, distant and commanding, her hair skin pale, and her hair a beautiful blonde, her beauty drawing fleeting glances but her presence demanding respect.
Behind her, her mentor towered like a shadow. His green dark robe blended with the crowd, yet his stature and silent subtle power made people step aside, He was middle aged, tall, he had deep green eyes and long blonde hair. when people did look all they had to do was see the sigil of their house which said all that needed to be said. His watchful gaze never wavered, a calm protector amidst the noise. Together, they stood out—regal, quiet, and unyielding in the midst of the bustling market where Nobles, and magical items of all fashions were present.
"What an interesting kid" he mumbled.
"what's so interesting, he's merely a creative thief, The elven women rolled her eyes " What was that a rank one [flashbang] spell? Those don't even work that well on these eyes of mine!" the princess yelled seemingly pissed.
"No, it was a combination of light and water magic used ingeniously for two purpose's, the first was to defend as he seemed to have felt your eyes upon him which is why he erected a water barrier and one that's quite effective as well, looking at the density and how the water rotated he definitely has A rank affinity , the second reason was for it to refract on the light and become almost a magnifying glass," the man kept mumbling.
"[A-rank] Water magic? And A rank Light aptitude? As well as a high affinity to the shadows! On a simple street rat like him! What a joke... whatever let him go, he also has A rank shadow magic and when I first spotted him something deep inside of me told me to fully scan him, when I did, he freaked out! most people can't even feel my gaze, He really is not norma, I wonder if hes some long forgotten bastard, She wondered what kind of secrets that boy was hiding to seemingly find such a response fitting.
"What an interesting pawn" mumbled the tall elven man
The women pursed her lips as she turned around, "I was just bored and ended up almost blinded, what a joke, Gadriel, go tell that stupid palm noble that he got robbed"
"As you wish my princess"
"Also stop calling me that!"
"Yes princess"
…..