I followed the three guards as they led me down the manor's winding, stone stairwell and through a pair of heavy oak doors into what looked like one of the estate's training grounds.
It was quiet, but not empty. I could still hear the distant clash of steel, barked orders, and the faint hum of soldiers training somewhere nearby. The air here was dry and smelled like dust and sweat.
Sand covered the floors, ringed by stone walls high enough to block out any wandering nobles. A fitting little coliseum for what they clearly had planned.
The trio of guards kept looking back at me like they expected me to bolt.
'I wouldn't be able to make it a couple of steps away before being caught by them. Then a beating would be unavoidable.' As such, I kept my pace calm, unbothered, hands tucked into my robe like I had all the time in the world.
It wasn't confidence - I was simply resigning myself to things outside of my control and trying to find a practical solution.
They didn't know that, of course. My apparent serenity just seemed to amuse them more.
"Hah, he thinks someone's going to step in and save him," muttered the fat one.
"Or maybe he's accepted his fate," said the average one with a snicker.
Tall-and-skeletal leaned in closer. "Either way, no one's gonna stop us. Worst case? We get a slap on the wrist. Best case? A pat on the back."
I heard everything, but I didn't react.
Not outwardly.
Inwardly? My brain was spiralling like a flushed toilet.
'Okay. I can't outrun them. Can't outfight them. And I'm not even sure I could lift one of those swords without throwing out my back. So, unless a dragon crashes through the courtyard and mistakes me for royalty-flavored jerky, no one will probably help me,' I surmised.
We stepped into the ring. A thin line of worn white stone marked the perimeter, enclosing a wide circle of sand meant for sparring.
They spread out, fanning around me like I was some sort of threat. Wolves cornering a one-legged deer.
And then I noticed the crowd.
Servants. Off-duty guards. Maids with half-wiped dishes in hand. Stablehands. Even a few robed figures I assumed were some sort of junior mages. Word seemed to have quickly spread.
Loser prince vs loser guards.
A grudge match, or more like a beating of the spoiled royal.
Some of them looked curious. Most looked entertained. A few looked way too excited.
'Perfect. Let's get publicly humiliated before lunch. That'll really seal my reputation.'
My palms were slick, heartbeat clawing its way up my throat.
This wasn't about pain anymore. This was about reputation and pride. I was about to be reduced to a joke in front of half the damn manor.
If it were my supposedly divine brother, fine - at least that would sting with dignity. But this odd little trio? They looked like the bottom rung of the bottom rung.
I took a breath.
Chess wasn't about strength. The king didn't punch, stab, or slash. He didn't do anything, really. But the game was still about him. Entire battles were fought to protect that one immobile piece.
But I didn't even have any available pieces.
Zeyra was still recovering. I didn't want to call upon her while her condition was unstable, nor was I sure how to. That meant I had to work with what I had.
Which was… nothing.
No aura. No magic. No muscle. No allies. Just me.
And maybe… my mind.
I sized up the three stooges in front of me. Nothing impressive. Standard-issue armor, sloppy stances, movements with all the grace of a drunk mule. Low-tier Aurists, maybe. If they'd awakened aura at all, it probably wasn't worth bragging about.
And yet, ironically, they were still stronger than I'd likely ever be - at least with this body's current sorry excuse for potential.
But it wasn't real strength. Not the kind that forges kingdoms or decides battles. No, theirs was the petty kind. The kind bullies thrive on. And right now, that was more than enough.
Unless…
Unless I could flip the hierarchy.
My mind flicked back to that moment with Zeyra.
That strange, crushing pressure I'd managed to lay over her. I still didn't know exactly how I'd done it - one second I was asking her that fated question, the next it felt like my will was pressing down on her shoulders.
Invisible. Heavy.
It wasn't dominance. It was sovereignty.
A king's will made manifest.
I closed my eyes, trying to call it back. That weight. That presence. The sheer gravity I'd somehow radiated without knowing it.
The Chess King System wasn't exactly the hand-holding type. It didn't answer questions, no matter how many times I asked. Believe me, I've tried. At this point, talking to it felt like leaving desperate texts on read - embarrassing, frustrating, and vaguely insulting.
If it ever did respond, I imagined it would be with something smug like: A King must figure everything out on his own.
Fine. Challenge accepted.
Unlocking the King's Eyes had been a complete fluke, but maybe, just maybe, I could force another skill into existence the same way. And this time, I actually needed it.
I pushed. Focused. Tried to be that pressure again.
And then, click.
Something deep in me shifted... The air seemed to pull taut.
The system pulsed softly behind my eyes.
[Skill Unlocked: King's Will.]
[This skill allows the King to exert intangible pressure upon those of lesser standing, weaker will, or lower conviction. Effectiveness scales with confidence, clarity, and situational awareness.]
[Targets of low resistance may hesitate, submit, or falter. Use with caution: misjudging target strength may result in hostility and or backlash.]
'A bluffing skill. Perfect.'
I centred my breathing.
Stepped forward. Not a lunge. Not a charge. Just a casual, deliberate pace. Like I was the one approaching them. Like I was bored, disappointed, and mildly annoyed to be here.
Then, once I reached the centre, I activated the skill, which felt innate and instinctual to use.
I began subtly, letting the pressure slowly creep over them. I didn't want to overwhelm them. I wanted them to feel it in their bones, that gut-deep uncertainty. The sense that maybe I wasn't as helpless as I looked.
That doubt was all I needed to capitalise on and get myself out of this mess...