The morning air was crisp and cold. A thin layer of frost coated the training grounds behind the Vaelstrom estate. It was the kind of morning that made you want to stay inside by a warm fire.
Victor, of course, was standing right in the middle of it.
He was perched on a stone bench, wrapped in a thick wool cloak, looking as miserable and weak as he could manage. He was playing his part perfectly. He was the concerned, helpless little brother who had tried and failed to prevent a disaster.
Across the grounds, his brothers, Marcus and Valerius, were pacing like caged wolves. They were in full plate armor, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords. Their faces were masks of rage, and they kept shooting death glares in Victor's direction.
They knew he had said something to the hero. They just didn't know what.
The main door to the castle opened, and Leon Phoenix emerged. He wasn't wearing his full armor, just a simple leather tunic and armed with his longsword at his hip. He looked calm, determined, and utterly unaware that he was a pawn in Victor's game.
"Marcus, Valerius Vaelstrom," Leon said, his voice firm. "I have come to answer your challenge."
"It is not a challenge, hero," Marcus snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "It is a correction. You will learn respect for the Vaelstrom name."
Valerius drew his sword with a satisfying *shiiiing*. "Let's see if the stories of your skill are true, or if you are just a lucky farm boy with a shiny sword."
Leon sighed, a sound of genuine regret. "I do not want this. But I will not be insulted."
The fight began.
It was, Victor had to admit, a beautiful display of swordsmanship. Marcus and Valerius were masters of the Vaelstrom fighting style—aggressive, powerful, and designed to overwhelm an opponent. They moved in perfect sync, their steel flashing in the morning sun.
But Leon was something else entirely. He didn't have their raw power. He had something better. He had grace. He flowed between their attacks like water, his blade a silver blur that parried, deflected, and countered with impossible speed. He wasn't just fighting them; he was dancing with them.
Victor watched, not the fight, but Leon's face. He saw the hero's initial focus, his concentration. But as the fight went on, he saw something else. He saw the frustration. The hero was holding back. He was trying to disarm them, to end the fight without serious injury, because that's what heroes do.
But Marcus and Valerius didn't care. They fought to wound, to humiliate. They saw his restraint as weakness.
*He's too noble,* Victor thought, a small smile playing on his lips. *He can't bring himself to truly hurt them, even to save himself.*
Victor waited. He watched the flow of the battle, waiting for the perfect moment. It came when Marcus overcommitted on a lunge, leaving his side open for a fraction of a second.
Leon saw it. His eyes narrowed. He could have ended it right there, a quick, disabling cut to the arm. But he hesitated, aiming his hilt instead for a non-lethal blow.
That was all Victor needed.
"Brother, look out!" Victor cried out, his voice filled with fake panic.
It was the perfect distraction. Marcus flinched, his eyes darting towards Victor for a split second. It was all the opening Leon needed, but not the one he wanted.
The hero's blade, meant to strike with the hilt, instead found its mark with the sharp edge. A thin line of red appeared on Marcus's arm.
Silence.
Everyone froze. Marcus looked down at the cut on his arm, then back at Leon, his eyes wide with disbelief. He had been drawn. He had been wounded. By a commoner's son.
"Stop," the Duke's voice boomed from the castle doorway. He had been watching. "The duel is over. The Phoenix heir has won."
Leon lowered his sword, his face a mask of regret. "I am sorry, Marcus. It was not my intention to draw blood."
But Marcus wasn't listening. He was humiliated. In front of his father, his men, and a hero he despised, he had been made a fool. He turned his rage not on Leon, but on the source of his downfall.
"YOU!" Marcus roared, pointing his sword at Victor. "You did this!"
Valerius's face twisted in fury. "You told him, didn't you? You little worm!"
Before anyone could react, they stormed towards Victor, their faces contorted with rage. Victor held his ground, forcing himself to look terrified. This was the final act.
"Enough!" Leon's voice cut through the air like a whip. He moved, placing himself between Victor and his brothers. His sword was up, his eyes blazing. "Your fight is with me. Leave him out of it."
"This is our family matter, hero," Valerius spat. "Stay out of it."
"Your brother came to me in good faith to try and prevent this foolishness," Leon said, his voice cold as steel. "I will not stand by and watch him be harmed for his loyalty."
*My loyalty,* Victor thought, suppressing a laugh. *Oh, this is too perfect.*
The Duke descended the steps, his face like a thundercloud. "Marcus. Valerius. Stand down. Now."
Shamed and defeated, the two brothers lowered their swords, but their eyes promised a future reckoning. They shot one last, venomous look at Victor before stalking away towards the castle infirmary.
The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. The Duke gave Leon a curt, respectful nod. "Sir Phoenix. You have defended your honor. The matter is closed."
With that, he turned and followed his sons back inside, leaving Leon and Victor alone in the cold.
The hero let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping. He turned to Victor, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.
"Are you alright, Victor?" he asked, his voice softer now.
"I… I think so," Victor stammered, hugging himself for effect. "Thank you, Sir Phoenix. I do not know what they would have done."
"It is I who should be thanking you," Leon said, sheathing his sword. "You tried to warn me. I was a fool to think they would listen to reason."
Victor looked up at him, his violet eyes wide and innocent. "They are just… proud. It is their greatest strength, and their greatest weakness."
Leon studied him for a long moment. The hero's walls were down. In this moment, he didn't see a Vaelstrom. He saw a young man, trapped and afraid, who had tried to do the right thing.
"You are a good man, Victor Vaelstrom," Leon said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do not let this place change that."
As the hero walked away, heading back to the castle to pack, Victor felt the system screen bloom in his vision.
[ **Quest Complete: The Wolf in the Garden** ]
[ **Objective:** The hero of the realm, Leon Phoenix, will be visiting the Vaelstrom estate in three days. He is scheduled to kill you. You must turn this meeting to your advantage. Do not die. ]
[ **Rewards Received:** ]
[ **Skill Unlocked: [Hero's Bane]** - *Your words and actions can now create seeds of doubt in the hearts of the righteous and heroic. They will begin to question their own black-and-white worldview.* ]
[ **Title Unlocked: [Defier of Fate]** - *You have avoided a predetermined end. Your destiny is now your own to write.* ]
[ **Status:** You have turned an enemy into an unwitting ally and humiliated your rivals. The seeds of chaos are sown. ]
Victor stood alone in the training ground, the frost crunching under his boots. He had won. But as he looked towards the castle, where his mother's windows overlooked the grounds, he knew this was just the beginning.
The first crack had appeared in the perfect facade of the Vaelstrom family. And he was the one holding the hammer.