Aiden’s jaw dropped at the [Sage’s] words.

  A little too proud of himself, Brandis sat back, arms folded over his chest with a self-accomplished smile. From what he knew, the [Sage] had only ever taught him and his father.

  The man, too enamored by his own self-importance had always claimed that teaching anyone outside the family line was something he had no interest in. He had agreed to train the [Hero] should he come from the castle’s summoned, but nothing more.

  So when Brandis had seen the [Sage’s] show of different emotions after the destruction of his staff and what had happened to his hand, he was more than certain that the man needed only a strong enough nudge to take the young Aiden Lacheart under his wings.

  And now he had.

  However, Aiden showed only confusion. Brandis didn’t blame the boy. He didn’t truly understand the powers of a [Sage]. There was no way he didn’t know that the man who had just offered to train him was powerful, what he didn’t know was just how powerful.

  Personally, Brandis had no idea what a Tel-arsat was, but he’d heard enough about history to know what an Armoon was. And destroying a staff forged from Liquid Life was not an easy feat.

  “Lord Lacheart,” the [Sage] said, pulling the boy’s attention.

  To his credit, Aiden didn’t shake his head or actively pull himself from his stunned state. His eyes simply moved up to the [Sage’s] and he answered.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I’m of the opinion that you have grown quite attached to the knight,” he said. “So, what will happen is this, you will have your last training with the knight this evening, as you always have, then we will begin our training from tomorrow evening.”

  A frown touched Aiden’s lips and Brandis wondered why. Is he so attached that he would not want to train with anyone else?

  It was a surprising thing, but it took Brandis only a moment to find out that it was not the case. Something else bothered him.

  Brandis was quick to address it.

  “It is just for a day, Lord Lacheart,” he said.

  The [Sage] turned to look at him with a slight look of annoyance. The man probably thought that he was overturning his decision, so Brandis was quick to correct that too.

  “The first evening,” he said, “is to get a picture of what you are capable of so far. It is necessary. Once you are done with your training tomorrow, you may leave for the place your brother is.”

  “Immediately?” Aiden asked.

  “If you still possess the strength,” Brandis said with a shrug. “I will send an escort with you so that you will have a guide.”

  “A map will suffice.”

  Brandis found that interesting. “Are you sure?”

  “The boy has gained the [Pathfinder] skill,” the [Sage] said. “An interesting skill for someone of his class, but a skill regardless. I’m sure he’s learnt enough about it to know how it works.”

  Aiden nodded. “A map and a jepat will suffice, your grace.”

  If only it would, Brandis thought with a sigh.

  Sadly, it would not. His wife and the [Sage] had sown doubt in his mind regarding Aiden Lacheart, and by the life of him, he could not shake the doubt.

  “A man with so much potential, taken from his home,” his wife had said, shaking her head. “Such a man would not want to remain under another man’s foot. Not when said man is the one in charge of the kidnapping. It won’t take him long to start believing that he can make it on his own out there in the world… without your help.”

  Brandis could not afford to have Aiden abscond.

  “A guide would be preferred,” Brandis said. “One that is strong enough to protect you from monsters and people that you cannot protect yourself from.”

  He watched Aiden as he spoke, searched the boy’s eyes to know if the child was aware of what he truly intended.

  He saw nothing, and that was one of the problems he had with the boy.

  Aiden Lacheart was not a poor liar because he had tells that Brandis could see. He was a poor liar because he never seemed to put much thought into his lies.

  But when it came to facial expressions, the boy was almost devoid of any. Even the ones that he displayed seemed like lies by themselves, practiced and trained.

  Once upon a time, Brandis had assumed that it was a result of his world. However, while the boy had been away in the Naranoff territory, he had had the pleasure of speaking to his peers, the ones known to spend any amount of time with him as well as his brother.

  What he had learnt was that none of the things they’d said about Aiden justified how the boy was. The control, the discipline. It was entirely above his peers. He was like a trained soldier, letting only what he wanted to be seen be seen.

  As much as he tried to tell himself that the emotions the boy displayed were real, Brandis couldn’t help the feeling that he was constantly being lied to, being given things that he was supposed to receive.

  Coupled with what the boy had done at the party for the envoys of Nel Quan, he’d sent out people to investigate.

  Even now, he’d found nothing. After all the levels of investigation, no one knew anything. The boy had left no trails. He worked alone and did everything that he did alone.

  Brandis didn’t want to admit it but not knowing was slowly beginning to anger him. There is always something to be found. Nothing is not proof of anything.

  Nothing, as his father had always taught him, was proof that everything was hidden too perfectly.

  Aiden remained standing before the [Sage], blackened arm to his side. He was like a soldier emulating a casual stance, ever ready for whatever could happen in the blink of an eye.

  As for the [Sage], he was clearly done with him. His staff remained abandoned on the ground as he walked off to the side, perhaps contemplating his usual disappearance into one of the shelves.

  “Lord Lacheart,” Brandis said.

  Aiden’s gaze moved to him. “Yes, your grace.”

  “You may go. Please inform the attendant at the door to invite Sir Valdan in after a minute.”

  Aiden bowed slightly, turned, and headed out of the room.

  The [Sage] stood thoughtful in front of one of the shelves to the side.

  The moment Aiden was gone, the door closed behind him, the [Sage] turned to Brandis.

  “If he chooses to run,” he said. “Let him.”

  Brandis paused, stunned to silence. It took him a moment to regain himself, and he did so with a frown.

  “I should let our strongest summoned run?”

  The [Sage] nodded. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve lived long enough to see people of different temperaments.” The [Sage] walked up to Brandis’ table. “If you attempt to hold the boy against his wishes, no matter how kindly you try to do so, he will know. He is already aware that the knight you wish to place on him is not his guardian but his jailer.”

  Brandis shook his head. “It was not my intention.”

  “You have taken his favorite knight from him, though.”

  “He was the one that asked if he could go alone,” Brandis disagreed. “He discarded Sir Valdan by himself. And he is of the same level as Sir Valdan. My knight has experience but not the strength anymore. He will not truly be able to protect the child from things that are stronger than him.”

  “Then perhaps he is to be punished for his lack of strength,” the [Sage] advised.

  Brandis shook his head. “I will not punish people for being weak after working so hard to be strong.”

  “And yet, you must.”

  Brandis never liked it when the [Sage] got this way, listening to nothing but his own ideas. Sometimes he wondered if this was the side effect of the man’s age, thinking that his ideas were without equal, or if it was simply the outcome of who the man was as a person.

  “I will not punish my knight.”

  The [Sage] shook his head as if putting up with a petulant child. “You will have no other choice but to send the knight if you wish to have the boy believe that you do not wish to control him.”

  “I do not wish to control him.”

  “Then punish the knight and send him with the boy.” The [Sage] folded his arms and Brandis couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever seen the man perform such an act apart from today. “Punishments, I’ve learnt, are often good motivators.”

  There was a knock on the door and Brandis knew that they were out of time.

  The door opened and Sir Valdan walked into the room. He stopped at a point equidistant from the door and Brandis’ desk when the door closed and took a knee.

  “My king,” he greeted.

  Surprise crossed his face as his eyes settled on the broken staff on the ground. Unable to control himself, his eyes moved to the [Sage].

  It took Brandis only a moment to realize that the [Sage] was no longer in front of his desk, instead, he had retired to his place in front of one of the shelves.

  Even now, he moved too fast for someone of the [Sage] class.

  For all you know, [Sage] might be nothing more than a title.

  The [Sage] was a mystery he hadn’t stopped investigating either. Brandis hated not knowing. It made him feel blind and under someone else’s control. It was a terrible feeling.

  Still, the [Sage] moved too quickly for someone of a magical class. Because if there was one thing that Brandis would stake his life on, it was that the [Sage] was definitely a magical class.

  “Sir Valdan,” Brandis said, voice calm. “Lord Lacheart has informed us of something interesting in your absence.”

  Valdan remained on his knee, saying nothing.

  “By the gods, man,” Brandis said, already tired. “Please rise. It strains my neck just to look down at you.”

  Sir Valdan rose to his feet without objection and stood at attention.

  “As I was saying,” Brandis continued. “He has informed us of something quite interesting. A spoil from his time within the cave. The question I have for you now is this; how true are his words?’

  “What words?” Valdan’s words were controlled. If he feared something, he did not give any of it away.

  Valdan had always been one of his hardest knights to read. Brandis attributed it to his upbringing. The man had practically raised himself in one of the worst conditions of the kingdom.

  It had made him hard, disciplined. It was one of the things that Brandis liked about him. Sometimes, however, like right now, it made Brandis’ work difficult.

  “He spoke of an experience within the cave,” Brandis said. “A kiss shared between him and my daughter.”

  The [Sage’s] eyes moved over to Brandis very slowly.

  I know, I know, Elaswit will have my head if she ever finds out, Brandis thought, ignoring the man’s attention.

  Valdan perked up at his words, however. It was the slightest thing, hidden almost immediately.

  “I was not aware of this, my king.”

  “That’s surprising,” Brandis said. “I have been led to believe that the both of you have grown quite close.”

  “Sadly, that piece of information is either not correct or gravely exaggerated, my king.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “So the both of you are not close?”

  Valdan shook his head. “I will admit to our relationship moving from student and teacher to something different.”

  “Peers?”

  A small frown touched Valdan’s lips. “I wouldn’t go that far, my king. But I will admit that he has grown to listen to me every now and again on matters outside of combat.”

  “How so?” the [Sage] asked. “What events have led you to believe this?”

  “His duel, my… Lord,” Valdan said, hesitantly.

  Brandis couldn’t blame him. Each time the knights came in contact with the [Sage] they always had difficulties choosing how to address him. They knew that he was important to the family but also knew that he was not a part of the family. They didn’t know what title he carried and didn’t know that he was a [Sage].

  It made it very difficult to find a proper title with which to address him.

  “Just call me ‘sir,’” the [Sage] said, to Brandis’ surprise. “Now, how has the duel led you to believe that the young lord listens to you?”

  “Before the duel,” Valdan said. “He had promised the soldier death. He had basically sworn it in blood.”

  “He is a child,” the [Sage] said. “Death is not the easiest thing to commit to when it stares you in the face, be it in your favor or against you.”

  Valdan shook his head. “I am of the opinion that Lord Lacheart the younger has no such hesitation.”

  Brandis adjusted in his chair, interested. “And why do you say so?”

  “Because I have seen what he is capable of, my king.” A sad look crossed Valdan’s face. “I have seen the aftermath of it, and I have seen him while he is in combat.”

  “The duel with the soldiers,” Brandis realized.

  “Yes, my king,” Valdan nodded. “He was systematic, precise, calculated. He drew a circle in the sand to limit himself.”

  The [Sage] made a dismissive gesture. “Mind games. He intentionally limited himself while forcing his enemies to limit themselves. Impressive for a child his age, but basic in the wider scale of things.”

  “True,” Valdan agreed. “But I watched what he did to his opponents. I watched him shed blood without an expression. I watched him bring a man great pain without batting an eye. I do not believe that he finds hesitation in taking a life.”

  Brandis stroked his jaw. “And the poachers? I believe they are the aftermath that you spoke of.”

  “Yes, my king.”

  “And what did they teach you?”

  Valdan paused, hesitated.

  Brandis sighed. “These are just questions, Sir Valdan. I am gauging the capabilities of the young lord to know how best to aid his growth.”

  Look at you, Brandis chided himself, playing the games you just told the [Sage] that you would not.

  Punishment could be a motivation at times, but there was no way he would allow his knight to believe that they were being punished for being weak despite how much they had tried. Thus, he had to have a reason to punish him.

  It made him feel dirty.

  Valdan sucked in a preparatory breath. “They taught me that Lord Lacheart the younger is no stranger to death.”

  That caught the [Sage’s] attention. “How so?”

  “They were dispatched with systematic precision,” Valdan said. “Lord Lacheart was outnumbered and outleveled. But I do not believe that he was outclassed.”

  “There was a level fifty poacher,” Brandis pointed out. “Or was that a lie?”

  “It was not,” the [Sage] said. “He has the title to prove it.”

  “Lord Lacheart walked away with scratches, my king,” Valdan said. “More importantly, the battle was confined to a specific area. What that tells me is that he did not run. He faced them in a specified position and dealt with all of them within that specified area. And every injury I saw was fatal, designed to kill.”

  “No hesitant injuries?” Brandis asked.

  “If there was any, I did not see it,” Valdan answered. “I believe that Lord Lacheart does not feel any hesitation when faced with death in his favor.”

  “And how does this translate to the duel that has led you to believe that he listens to you?”

  Valdan’s jaw ticked. “He promised the soldier death but I asked him to spare her.”

  “That was stupid,” the [Sage] muttered. “Everyone knows that when you a challenged to a duel to the death in front of the church, you kill your enemy. Anyone who would do that truly wants you dead.”

  Valdan nodded, pain in his eyes as he looked away. “He is just a boy. Death shouldn’t be so easy for him.”

  Brandis agreed, however, it was nothing but hypocrisy. “While I agree with you, sir Valdan, killing is exactly what we are trying to teach him and his colleagues to do.”

  “Monsters, yes.” Valdan pressed his lips in a thin line. “But not his fellow humans.” A pained expression crossed his face. “Killing your kind eats away at you, my king. He is too young to be losing himself.”

  “And what if he’s already lost himself?” the [Sage] asked.

  Valdan moved his attention to meet his eyes. “Then it is my hope that it is not too late for him to find himself.”

  Something about the way Valdan looked at the [Sage] seemed challenging. Brandis did not like it. Not because the knight seemed to be standing up for himself but because the knight seemed to have developed a loyalty for the young Lacheart that he would challenge the [Sage] for his redemption.

  Valdan was a knight that treated everyone else as one would treat a colleague, and Brandis had always wanted more for him. He had always wanted the knight to look at others and think of them as friends. Because while loyalty inspired a man to die for his kingdom, love inspired him to do whatever it took to live for it as well.

  A pity he has chosen the boy.

  It was bitter-sweet.

  “I understand, Sir Valdan,” Brandis said, sliding back into the conversation. “Unfortunately, while we are raising these children to be people that can live in Bandiv, we are also raising them to be people capable of killing. It might not be the best, but it is what it is.”

  Valdan bowed slightly. “I understand, my king.”

  “Good.” Brandis sat back, affected calmness. “Now that that is out of the way, is there anything else you would like to add. Anything at all that the young Lord left out in his update?”

  Valdan paused, hesitated once more. Brandis had never seen the knight hesitate so many times in his life.

  He must’ve really grown attached.

  He was beginning to wonder if leaving the knight to train him had been a good idea. In his defense, it had not been his idea. That one was an idea that he could blame on the [Sage].

  “No,” Valdan said.

  Brandis sucked in a sad breath. And there it is.

  This was the loophole he was looking for. The excuse. He leaned forward, placed both arms on his desk, and fixed his attention on Valdan.

  You will either be punished for negligence of dishonesty.

  “Are you certain, Sir Valdan?” Brandis stared him down. “There was a reason I kept Lord Lacheart here and had you excuse us. I understand that you have developed something of a friendship with him, so with that in mind, I will ask again. Was there anything at all that the young Lord left out in his update?”

  A myriad of emotions flickered across Valdan’s face. He became a cacophony of tiny micro expressions in the blink of an eye. Brandis watched his own knight fight against himself and almost felt bad for him.

  Doubt was always a terrible thing. Self-doubt had killed more men that he could count.

  Broken more than it has killed.

  And for people who swore their lives to violence, he wasn’t sure which was worse, dying in combat or being broken and unable to face combat.

  I hope this does not break you, Sir Valdan.

  “There is something, my king,” Valdan said finally, and the sadness was clear on his face.

  Whether it was sadness at betraying the young Lord or sadness at having hesitated in the first place, Brandis did not know. But this line of conversation had to continue.

  What was about to happen had to happen.

  “And what is that?” Brandis asked.

  “When he returned from the cave,” Valdan said, expression dour, “he passed out. But before that, he asked me to make sure that no one attended to him while he was unconscious.”

  “Except you,” Brandis said.

  “Except me,” Valdan confirmed with a nod.

  “Why?”

  “Because he had returned with something. I did not know what it was until he’d woken up.”

  “He showed it to you himself?” Brandis asked and Valdan nodded.

  Perhaps this sense of friendship goes both ways.

  The thought made Brandis feel a little better.

  “And what was this thing?” he asked.

  Valdan swallowed visibly. “A crystalized demonic mana, my king.”

  The [Sage] turned away in shock and dismay. The level of acting caught Brandis off guard so greatly that his own shock looked genuine because it was. It simply wasn’t shock at Brandis’ news but the [Sage’s] acting skill.

  I never pegged him for someone dramatic.

  “Crystalized demonic mana,” the [Sage] muttered loud enough to be heard. “The rising darkness grows stronger.”

  Brandis nodded slowly, doing his best not to smile. He was beginning to feel like a shitty person for what he was putting his knight through. This level of scheming was always the purview of his wife. She’d always had the stomach for it.

  Brandis sighed and leaned back on his chair. “And you kept this to yourself.”

  Valdan took a knee immediately. “I have no excuse, my king.” His voice was solemn, saddened in different ways. “I will take whatever punishment you deem befitting of what I have done.”

  Brandis watched the man. He doubted that Valdan was even aware of what he was going through. From what he knew about the man, becoming a [Knight] had always been a dream. Becoming a [Knight of the Crown], however, had become something too great for him to even comprehend.

  The man had spent his entire life chasing knighthood to the point that he had never given himself the time to find himself. He was like a religious fanatic that had never dared to ask himself the difficult questions, the questions that risked sowing doubt in his own mind.

  Now, however, he had found himself in a position that pitched him as a man against himself as a [Knight]. It was unraveling him. He was coming undone.

  Brandis couldn’t help but feel sad for him.

  And you’re about to do nothing but worsen his case. Brandis sighed. Heavy lies the head that wears the crown, my grandfather always said.

  Sometimes, as a king, you had to do things you did not agree with. It was what it meant to rule. To be a king was to be more than a man.

  “Sir Valdan.”

  “Yes, my king.”

  “For your action of dishonesty, you will stand punishment.” Brandis’ mouth tasted bitter as he said the words. “Your punishment for what you have done will only be tempered with mercy for your achievements since coming under my service. Initially, the crime of dishonesty to the crown for one in your position is the loss of your title.”

  Valdan stiffened so tightly that Brandis was surprised that he didn’t give himself a cramp.

  “However, due to the young Lord’s trust in you and your loyalty over the time you’ve spent in your position, I have chosen leniency,” Brandis continued, pausing to look at the [Sage]. “When do you intend on training the young Lord?”

  Again, Valdan stiffened. It was as if the realization of having the young Lord’s training taken from his hands was another form of punishment. A heavy one.

  “Tomorrow evening,” the [Sage] said. “Then he will have his map and be sent on his way.”

  Brandis kept a subtle eye on Valdan. The knowledge of Aiden Lacheart leaving caught Valdan’s attention.

  “Tomorrow evening,” Brandis mused. “Then it is settled. Sir Valdan. You will be given a chance to defend your title as [Knight of the Crown] tomorrow evening. A venue will be communicated to you before then, and you are to arrive with any weapon of your choice to defend your honor.”

  Valdan remained on his knee. “Yes, my king.”

  His voice was firm, accepting of his punishment.

  “Then you may leave.”

  Valdan rose to his feet, bowed at the waist, then left the room.

  Brandis gave the [Sage] an annoyed look when the knight was gone. “I hate it when you make me do these things.”

  “I have made you do nothing, Brandis.” The [Sage] leaned casually against a shelf. “You did this entirely on your own.”

  Without his staff, the [Sage] was taking positions Brandis had never seen him take.

  Well, you’ve only ever seen him with his staff, and he’s always holding it so regally.

  Now, he was acting like a young man, doing too many things.

  I got to see him act.

  Brandis could’ve sworn that such a thing would never happen. The realization brought another thought to his mind.

  What if the staff has been suppressing his emotions somehow?

  It would explain why he was only now doing new things. Brandis had heard of weapons that affected a person in such a way, but he’d never assumed that the [Sage] would need one or even use one.

  He shook his thoughts away.

  “All I’m saying is that I don’t like having to do such things,” he said to the [Sage]. “It makes me feel… wrong.”

  The [Sage] smiled. “Once upon a time, you would never have done something like this at all. Perhaps I should prepare a gift for your wife as thanks. She has gotten you to do things since meeting her that I’ve never been able to convince you of.”

  Brandis groaned. “I should find a befitting punishment for her.”

  The [Sage] snorted in amusement. “Good luck with that.”

  He turned to walk into the shelf he was standing at when Brandis interrupted his exit.

  “What about your staff?” he asked.

  “What about it?”

  “Don’t you intend on taking it with you?”

  The [Sage] looked at him as if he’d asked a stupid question. “Why?”

  Brandis ignored the look. As a king, it was supposed to annoy him, but the [Sage] had been an old man even when he was a child. He would always remain a child to the man.

  “I’m just saying,” Brandis said. “With what you’ve told me that it’s made of, there’s no way there isn’t some residual power left in it, even in its current state.”

  The [Sage] looked at the staff, thoughtful.

  “How was your last hunt?” he asked, changing the subject suddenly. “The one that you just returned from. Did you find success?”

  Brandis frowned, thinking of his failure and how he’d almost died. “No.”

  “That is quite sad,” the [Sage] mused. “Did you at least gain a level?”

  Brandis shook his head. “No.”

  “I see.” The [Sage] tilted his head to the side. “Perhaps it is a feat that is too great for you.”

  “Only because I do not have a weapon,” Brandis grumbled.

  “Last time I checked, no one asked you to keep challenging the creature without a weapon.”

  “I know, but my father defeated it without a weapon. And in nine attempts.” Brandis gritted his teeth in displeasure. “This is my eighteenth.”

  “Well, that right there is your problem. Your father was a far better unarmed fighter than you are. Just pick up the weapon and face it.”

  “If I do so, they will look down on me.”

  “Who? The Dragonkin?” the [Sage] scoffed. “Such pride is a bit useless if you ask me. The Dragonkin are nothing more than just another specie on the otherside of the barrier. They do not deserve this pedestal you’ve suddenly placed them upon.”

  “They are a powerful specie,” Brandis pointed out. “They have royal guards who easily stand above me in skill and level.”

  The [Sage] scoffed in disinterest. “They simply have the luck of having the better monsters.”

  The man said it as if monsters were like natural resources and not deadly creatures that could kill you.

  “Regardless,” he continued. “Maybe the staff is of more use to you in its current state than it is to me. Perhaps you should try to absorb whatever mana is left of it. It could prove useful to you. The gods know that it’s useless to me.”

  Brandis reeled back in shock. “Liquid Life? You want me to try and absorb Liquid Life?”

  The [Sage] looked at him. “It’s not like it’s unheard of.”

  “It is unheard of,” Brandis shot back. “Liquid Life isn’t something you can just absorb.”

  Again, the [Sage] tilted his head to the side. “Is it not? Or is that something you’ve simply been told?”

  Brandis hadn’t been told such a thing. But anyone with common sense that knew of Liquid Life knew this. It was as simple as knowing that you did not try to fight the gods. Liquid Life wasn’t some random mana crystal that you could absorb simply because you’d crossed the level 100 threshold.

  Brandis’ eyes settled on the discarded staff on the ground. Right?

  “Humans.” The [Sage] shook his head. “Always limiting yourselves because you are too afraid. Absorb it, Brandis. At least, try for yourself first and see if it is possible. Even if you fail, you may gain something that helps you defeat the halfling of a leviathan that has kept you so stumped for so long. Just how strong is it, again?”

  “Level two hundred and ninety-eight,” Brandis said. It was something he could not forget.

  “Oh.” The [Sage] paused. “That is quite the level gap. Good luck with it, anyway.”

  If he could really absorb Liquid Life, then the [Sage] had just given him a gift that he could not repay.

  “Is there anything I can do to help make replacing your staff easier and quicker?” he asked as the [Sage] turned to leave once more.

  The [Sage] paused. “That is a good question. Kill the halfling leviathan and ask for its brains and hearts, and we’ll talk.”

  He was halfway through the shelf, the wood shimmering as he passed through it when he paused. Stepping back into the room, he spoke once more.

  “You know what? On second thought, perhaps you could help me with a few other things.”

  “Say the word,” Brandis said.

  “I’ll need you to find the [Crystal of Existence] and the [Heart of Nosrath] while I handle more important matters?”

  Brandis was confused for a moment. “Why?”

  “Because they are also ingredients needed for replacing my staff. If I’m going to replace it, I might as well make a better one.”

  “But they currently have owners,” Brandis said. “I’ve never heard of someone who’s already absorbed them being able to give them up, even in death.”

  “Really?” the [Sage] mused. “I almost forgot about that. I haven’t paid those things much attention in far too many years. No matter, just station men at their locations in secret.”

  “They won’t return in at least another year,” Brandis pointed out.

  “Maybe,” the [Sage] agreed. “Position them, regardless. In secret, please. I won’t have nations fighting over them this time, if not I’ll have to step in. In fact, be it now or in the next year, any slight change noticed at their locations should be reported to me. I don’t mind going there if I have to.”

  Brandis stared at the man in surprise but nodded. “I’ll do that immediately. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thank you.”

  With that, the [Sage] walked into the shelf and was gone. Brandis did not try to stop him. He had other things on his mind.

  What have I done?

  The battle over the [Crystal of Existence] and the [Heart of Nosrath] the next time they arrived was going to be a one-sided massacre if anyone chose to go for it. And it was all because he had asked what he could do to help.

  He almost felt bad for those who would be going after it.

  I guess I’ll have to cancel my initial plans for it this time around.

  His eyes moved to settle on the staff now that he was alone in his study.

  Liquid Life.

  The greatest of men had gone their entire lives without ever seeing it or getting close to it at all.

  Now here it was, and the [Sage] had just asked him to try and absorb it.

  I’ll be stupid not to try… Right?