I yawned, propped my left foot on a nearby box, and rested my elbow on my knee. My hand drifted to my scalp, scratching absently before I let my head fall into my palm.

  “I don’t know what to do. Things are getting worse.”

  “You mean… like overall? The world?” Lynx asked, tilting his head.

  I shot him a confused glance. The world? Who cared about the world when I had more urgent problems?

  “There are only a handful of people who can still come close to me without fainting! Ju, you, Alice... and Drackar, plus most of his orcs. Today was worse than yesterday, and yesterday was worse than the day before! Where is this going to end?”

  “Weaklings! All of them!” the ghoul repeated. Then, with surprising conviction, he added, “It is the same with the Krawag’s God. Only a few can stand close to Him!”

  I snorted at that. The ghoul’s theology was the last thing I needed.

  Lynx lifted his head

  "I thought you were thinking about the problems with Hologomora and Guarava. Won't it come to war after all?"

  "Nah. I trust Alice to calm the orcs"

  He shook his huge head.

  "The orcs are straightforward and thus easy to manipulate. I'm more worried of the scheming Guaravian royalty. Aren't you afraid they might trick and harm you in one way or another?" he said

  I raised a brow. Lynx interested in politics?

  "Sun Tzu said something like: 'Know yourself and your enemies, and you’ll win every battle'. Let's be honest, I think I can smoke their paladin champion Nebesko in two minutes if not less. As the orcs say, he didn't even cross the level into hegemony, his level is still under one hundred."

  "Who's Sun Tzu?" he wondered

  I snorted aghast.

  "Doesn't matter. You alway run on a tangent and lose focus on what I say!"

  "Maybe they don't want Nebesko to reach hegemony because then he would be too strong to be controlled by the royals. He’d be king. But he’s not the only ace up their sleeve. Those area formations are dangerous"

  I shook my head.

  "No, a war would be disastrous for Guarava."

  "Yet somebody is pushing for war!" he exclaimed. "Would it be the elves? Don't you find Ju acting a bit strange now?"

  I sighed and he continue.

  "She is somehow changed, there is even a smell to her..."

  I shook my head tiredly.

  "She is herself. I checked that. Who would not be changed after such an experience?"

  I raised my palms.

  "Why don't you help me with my problem? I can't be together with my boys, and that's bad! It doesn’t make sense,” I said, frowning. “I don’t think I’m generating more mana today than I was yesterday, so why is it getting worse?”

  Lynx scratched behind his ear with one of his massive paws, deep in thought.

  “I might have a theory,” he said. “You said this all started after your last level-up, right? Back then, you couldn’t really control your increased aura properly.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying!” I cut in. “But now my control is way better, and still, more people are collapsing! What gives? Did everyone suddenly get weaker? Or are people around here just more fragile?”

  He chuckled softly.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “No, nothing like that. Back then, a lot of your magic was just leaking out and dissipating. Wasted energy. But now, with better control, less is being lost, which means the mana around you stays more concentrated. You don’t feel it, but it’s building up to dangerous levels for lowly beings.”

  He paused, then added thoughtfully, “Maybe you should try… I don’t know, thinning it out somehow? Rarefying the magic in the air?”

  I raised a brow.

  “Lowly beings?” I asked.

  He chuckled.

  “I thought I’d make it sound more dramatic, Your Highness.”

  I rolled my eyes at his teasing and let out a sigh.

  “And how exactly am I supposed to rarefy the magic in the air?”

  He shrugged.

  “I don’t know. But it’s your mana, right? So you should be able to control it. Otherwise, you’ll end up ruling your kingdom from a club of freaks like this one.”

  I pursed my lips.

  “You’re not freaks. You’re people!” I protested.

  “Ghouls are also people?” the ghoul asked, puzzled.

  I shook my head in exasperation. That was a slippery slope, and I had no interest in diving down it. I turned back to Lynx.

  “Lynx, give me an idea. How can I manage to stay around people without hurting them?”

  He tilted his head.

  “Your results vary a lot, so I’d say it’s about practice. I could walk beside you and flick my tail. If I keep it raised, it means your aura’s fine - and we have a fainting zone. If I drop it, it means your aura’s too low and you need to ramp it up a bit.”

  He paused.

  “But… My tail has a mind of its own sometimes, so maybe I’m not the best gauge for low-level kill zones.”

  I snorted, then blinked.

  “You know… that’s not such a bad idea,” I said.

  He gave me a puzzled look, unsure whether I was joking or serious.

  I turned and walked off, smiling triumphantly.

  “No really, it is a good idea!”

  If I was careful, I could control my aura well enough not to harm anyone.

  The real problem was that my attention tended to slip now and then, but Lynx was right: with some practice, I should be able to do better.

  So, I sent Mike a note via one of the orcs, explaining my interpretation of Lynx’s idea.

  The concept was simple: who better to gauge whether my aura was getting too strong than someone who would actually feel the effects?

  All I needed was a servant who could act as a living warning system: someone to signal me when things started to get dangerous, before real harm was done.

  I thought I’d have to wait a day or two, but Mike found a suitable person almost immediately.

  And now, here I was, walking through the yard with Ju at my side, followed by Jin’Sue—my new aura gauge.

  The brave boy kept struggling to stay just ahead of me, always trying to stay in sight so he could signal me with his little flags instead of shouting, though I had told him he could yell if things got bad.

  He was originally from Donnercup, about sixteen years old, with a touch of magical talent. If he kept at it, he might reach level ten in another ten years. For now, he identified as a level two mage initiate and was just looking for a job.

  With this one, he was actually being paid as well as a carpenter.

  His duties were simple: he could sit, drink, eat, or do whatever else he wanted, as long as he kept that little bag of flags ready.

  Whenever he sensed a shift in my aura, he was to raise the corresponding flag—each one color-coded by intensity.

  When we’d first started, he’d held the flag in his hand, waving it cheerfully. Now, two hours later, he was just lazily hooking it to his backpack.

  So far, I hadn’t knocked him, or anyone else, unconscious.

  True, he’d raised the red flag a couple of times and had looked pretty wobbly on his feet, but I’d adjusted quickly.

  Now, he was holding up an orange flag while chewing on a piece of bread.

  “Ju, am I the only one with this problem? How do other people manage this? Are there any elf kings who struggle like me?” I asked.

  She laughed.

  “Maybe we should go ask the dragon king? ‘Your Dragon-Highness, how do you avoid knocking out your minions?’” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “Though… I don’t think he really cares.”

  I made a face at her and stuck out my tongue.