“Good work, good work!” Gavin complimented the soldier who Ansel sent out to gather information on noblewomen and sent Gadric Asvete to Ateria. He did his task to pretty much perfection, and Gavin was extremely pleased with his performance. “What is your name?”

  “Teddie, sir!”

  Teddie looked to be in his early 20s and he looked … a bit dumb. He may not actually be dumb but the guy looked dumb.

  “Teddie? Is that your nickname?”

  Ansel was beside the baron, standing with his hands on back.

  “No, sir, it’s Teddie.”

  “Ayo, your parents didn’t care much for you, huh. Alright, your name is now Ted, the squire.”

  He must have been very pleased since he was promoting a commoner to a squire. He did mention wanting a knight who was satisfied with his position. After the little episode with Finnic, it looked like he decided that he could no longer fully count on him.

  “What is a squire, sir?”

  “A higher ranking soldier is what that is. You also get a pay rise as well as your own room.”

  Ted’s face lit up. “Thank you, sir!”

  “Your direct superior is Finnic and Ansel here.”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  “Dismissed.”

  Turning around like a clock, he left the office.

  “Well, at least he seems to have discipline,” Ansel remarked.

  “Sometimes you need people like him who do what he is told exactly. When a muscle brain has too many thoughts, you get someone like Finnic.”

  “I think he learned his lesson. I think he knows where he stands now.”

  “Yes, that’s good for him. I will try to get him the title of baronet some years down the line since it’s clear that he wanted that. Anyway, what’s your opinion on Sir Asvete? You’ve been training with him for a while now.”

  “He is a brilliant man. The title of Grand Sage befits him. If someone like him serves Duke Grimhill, the duke must be even more remarkable.”

  “Are you saying that just because he is your mentor?”

  “No, sir. The word, genius, fits him perfectly. By the way, sir, may I request something?”

  “You want something? What is it?”

  “A world map, sir.”

  “Right, I did say I’d get you one. I will order one from Crisuri right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  As more and more folks returned to their ruined houses, so did the miners. Therefore, Ansel decided that the mine needed to be cleared out of goblins. Another reason was that he wanted to test out the spells he learned from Gadric. In addition, he decided to call him for support, who reluctantly agreed. In the end, Ansel and Finnic decided that the three of them and a few soldiers would be enough to clear out the mine.

  “Alright! We know what we are here for, yeah?”

  Finnic exclaimed at three soldiers and Ted the squire. The three soldiers were clad in simple leather armor whereas Ted had a chest plate on in addition to the leather armor. As a squire, his armor was upgraded.

  “We are here to exterminate the goblins, sir!” They responded powerfully.

  “Good! We have a grand mage with us. Have no fear!”

  Common goblins were one of the weakest monsters. They were the size of pre-teen children with dark green skin with pointy ears. They were very mischievous. While they were very much harmless when alone, they had a strong tendency to gang up on their opponents. And they were almost always found in a group of at least three, making it challenging to fight them alone. They also loved young women and would kidnap to have fun with them if such an opportunity arose.

  “I won’t actually help you. That’s not my job,” Gadric said but no one seemed to be bothered by his statement because Ansel was his pupil. He would surely help out if his pupil was under danger.

  “Finnic, I am going into the cave and scout the place out,” Ansel said. He was going to cast the shadow spell once he was in the cave. The spell would act as a greater invisibility inside a cave. Therefore, he would be able to explore the mine freely while counting how many goblins were inside.

  “Good luck. We will be outside and get giddy,” Finnic replied with glee. It was finally time for some actions.

  Ansel cast the shadow as well as the dark vision as soon as he entered the cave, concealing himself completely as well as erasing noise and smell. The dark vision spell would enable him to see in complete darkness. The entrance area of the mine was pretty spacious, and he could see reinforced walls with wooden bars.

  Three paths, crap.

  He was hoping for a simple layout, but it wasn’t going to be that easy with three routes immediately from the beginning. He did bring a chalk and marked each path one, two, and three and went down path one. It was much narrower and it didn’t take long for him to run into idling goblins.

  Common goblins.

  There was a chance that there could be deep goblins which were a variant of goblins with superior intelligence.

  If there were any deep goblins in the mine, it was better to leave them alone since they were free labor and were not hostile to humans unless attacked first. In fact, it was possible to trade with them. It may be possible to talk to them and form some sort of contract also. But deep goblins were pretty rare. Even finding one was considered lucky.

  Too many of them and they are blocking the path. I need to check path two.

  In spite of being invisible, no scent, and no sound, coming in contact physically would mean the end of his hiding. Therefore, he made his way out of path one and entered path two which seemed pretty clear, and he was able to head down to the very end of the path without ever encountering a single common goblins.

  Path two is clear. Time to check path three.

  Path three seemed clear initially but it led to a sizable opening and he spotted a goblin camp with a camp fire in the middle. It must have been the source of the goblins. The goblins were either napping on the ground or dancing around the fire merrily. Nobody really knew where monsters came from. They magically appeared out of thin air seemingly.

  One, two, three, four …

  There were fourteen of them. Including the ones in path one, he made an assumption of twenty or more but probably no more than thirty at maximum. He made his way out of the cave and canceled his shadow spell but kept the dark vision on.

  “Twenty to thirty,” he explained what he found to Finnic, who was waiting by the entrance with his four soldiers, including Ted.

  “So, we have to clear out path one and three. How should we go about this, Ansel?”

  “I’d say let me take care of path one, and you take out the camp in path three.”

  “Are you gonna be okay alone?”

  “No, assign the squire to me.”

  “Alright, Ted, you protect Page Asvete.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  After lighting their lamps on their belts, they proceeded into the mine with Gadric observing them idly. So far, they really didn’t rely on him and didn’t look like they were planning to. Then he came to a realization that Ansel may have used his presence only to boost morale.

  “What a sneaky lad,” he chuckled. Turning around, he simply left the scene.

  Meanwhile, Ansel and Ted were going down to path one. It was just wide enough for both of them to traverse.

  “Ted, you take the front with your shield and sword. I will assist you from behind with my short spear.”

  “Yes, Page.”

  Ansel had brought in only half of his spear which made it short enough to be useful in a confined space like a mine. He could only thrust and not swing it.

  “Proceed slowly and watch out for the ceiling. They may hang onto the ceiling and attack from above.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  For Ted, age didn’t matter. Only ranks mattered. Therefore, he had no problem addressing much younger people with respect as long as his rank was higher. And Ansel was, in fact, the second in command within the domain. Pretty much everyone working for the baron knew this. Anyway, with his reinforced round shield up, he proceeded cautionally, looking up and down. Ansel was able to see further away due to his dark vision spell.

  “I see three up ahead. Ready up, Ted.”

  Nodding, he bashed his sword against his shield, creating loud noise to attract their attention. Meanwhile, Ansel leaned closer to the side in order to hide behind him. The three goblins cackled and immediately jumped into the air to attack Ted from above. But one of them never made it down because Ansel’s spear pierced his neck, severing its jugular vein. With blood spewing out like a small waterfall, it fell straight down to the rocky floor.

  “WUUUUAH!” Roaring, Ted withstood their attacks with his shield and swung it immediately, sending the two goblins flying away. Then he charged forward and stomped on one of them, crushing its head flat. The last remaining goblin shrieked in fear and ran deeper into the path.

  “Do we chase?” he asked, to which Ansel refused.

  “No, we go slowly.”

  “Understood.”

  As far as he knew, the path would lead to a dead end.

  “Expect more of them. It couldn’t have been just three.”

  “Yes, Page.”

  It didn’t take long for them to face the goblins. This time, there appeared to be quite a number of them.

  “Can’t tell how many there are but there seems to be quite a few. Watch out there. Be on defensive stance, and I will take care of them,” Ansel told Ted who nodded and readied his shield forward. As they got closer, what they saw was interesting.

  “Are they running away from something…?” Ansel mused aloud. The faces of goblins had a mix of fear and ferocity as if some chose to run while some were retreating only because others were running away. Ted clashed with them headon and attempted to push them back. However, because there were so many of them, he was eventually pushed back and fell down, exposing Ansel to the goblins. He quickly thrust his spear into one of them, piercing its neck. By the time he withdrew his spear, they were already at him.

  Shadow bolt!

  In desperation, he cast the shadow bolt, summoning a dark arrow-like object and shot at a goblin that was jumping on him. It hit his chest and exploded, splitting the monster into two pieces while splattering all manners of flesh everywhere. Despite taking two down, there were still a horde of them running at him.

  “No, you don’t!” Ted stood back up and readied his shield while swinging his sword haphazardly. In hindsight this was a mistake since his sword hit walls. But at least it gave Ansel a breather and he thrust forward his spear once again, piercing through a goblin’s chest.

  “Walk back slowly!” he exclaimed. “We can’t hold them like this!”

  The goblins, realizing that the duo was no pushover, kept a short distance from them, growling at them. Some of them were looking back constantly. They were clearly being chased by something.

  “Mr Page, is it just me or do they look afraid of something?”

  “I think so as well. I am unsure why though.”

  They’d find out soon enough when they heard what felt like a man’s roaring from deep end.

  “I hear voices?” Ted wondered aloud, and the goblins looked clearly terrified.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Wait…, could this path be connected to path three?”

  He was proven right as Finnic’s adrenaline fueled roars rang in the mine.

  “DIIIIIEEEE, YOU FUCKERS!”

  He kept on shouting as he pressed on with his sword pointed forward.

  “Well? Let’s do our part then,” Ansel said, urging Ted to charge forward at the goblins. The cornered goblins came at them but they no longer posed a threat when they were tackled from both ends. They sure did cause a mess however.

  “The smell is awful,” Finnic remarked while huffing and puffing. “Let’s get outta here. I am covered in swine.”

  “How should we clean the mess?”

  “Who cares? Let the miners do it. We risked our lives and did our part.”

  “Well, you have a point there.”

  “Ansel, you go back. I will take care of the rest.”

  Well, he was the guard captain. This was, in fact, his job.

  “Yeah, I will leave this to you. See you later, Finnic.”

  “Yeah, cya.”

  The clearing of the mine sent a positive message for the town folks who felt that they were finally seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. Their past few months had been dark indeed. It’d take a bit of time to get the mine up and running, but the hard part was taken care of. With the tavern also running, the essence of economy was about to commence.

  Exactly two days after the mine was secured, a message arrived at the manor. It said that Isabel Grimhill’s convoy passed through the checkpoint in Vlesland, and Count Rassier asked to meet Gavin ASAP.

  The checkpoint existed to record in and outgoing. They didn’t bother checking the general flow of movement. But when a sizable convoy passed by, they had to check. Naturally, they were shocked to learn that a Grimhill woman was among them. They were even more shocked that she was heading to Ateria for her marriage. Since they were under the count’s authority, they sent him a message first while letting them pass. The count had to pass on the message that Gavin’s would-be-wife passed through the checkpoint but asked Gavin to come down to Crisuri and explain the situation.

  “The count will not be pleased,” Ansel remarked after reading through the letter. He and Gavin were in their office. If Gavin married Isabel, their children would be closer to Duke Grimhill than the count himself. The count risked losing a part of his domain to the duke in other words.

  “Lady Isabel is almost here. Since she passed by the checkpoint, she will arrive in seven days or so. Given the time required for messengers to come and go, I’d say there are only a few days before her arrival,” Gavin said firmly. “I will not go to Crisuri. I must stay here and welcome my future wife in person.”

  “Am I going then?”

  Gavin nodded and added, “You are an Asvete now. The count can’t treat you like a peasant.”

  Ansel would have insisted that he would go with him but he knew how important this marriage was and that Gavin would not back down no matter what.

  “Baron, I will have to reveal that I am a mage to the count. Are you okay with this?”

  A baron having a mage under his command would rock the balance of the domain. The count would naturally want to recruit the mage in question to his side even if it meant making the baron in question a viscount.

  “Do what you must.” He, then, stood up from his chair and stood before Ansel, placing both of his hands on his shoulders. “I know I asked you a lot. But do this for me. Please make it so that I can marry Lady Isabel.”

  “I will do what I can. But what are you going to do if the count refuses the marriage?”

  It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Count Rassier, as Gavin’s liege, had the final say in his marriage. However, it didn’t mean Gavin had to ask for his blessing, either. Count’s final say was more of a strong suggestion.

  “I am still going to marry her even if I have to abandon Ateria.”

  He would still keep his title, and Duke Grimhill may grant him a fief instead. Therefore, it was not all doom and gloom. In Ansel’s mind, this was unlikely to occur however. The town, at the moment, was worthless. It needed a competent governor to restore the town to its former glory. Creating a seed of chaos over this devastated settlement may not be Count Rassier’s best interest.

  “I see. I will do what I can.”

  “Page Asvete, I am counting on you.”

  Time was of essence, and he rushed to leave the manor to reach the stable right outside of the wooden walls.

  “Where are you going in such a rush?” Gadric asked casually.

  “The count wants to see the baron. It’s about the marriage. He does not wish to go, so I am going.”

  “Ah, a battle in a court, isn’t it?”

  It was indeed. It was going to be a battle involving words.

  “I will help you this time. I will take you to Crisuri by the teleportation spell.”

  It would make things so much quicker, thus Ansel had no reason to refuse.

  “Why help me now when you didn’t help me with the iron mine clear-out?”

  “That is because I want you to be here when Lady Grimhill arrives. If you ride a horse to Crisuri now, it’s going to take at least five days for the round trip. She must have passed the check point now if the count knows the deal. She will be here in a matter of days.”

  “I am not someone important to the marriage.”

  Gadric shrugged with a crooked grin. “That is true. But you are a part of the deal. She was quite intrigued by a child advising a baron.”

  He didn’t really have a reason to refuse his help.

  “Well, if you say so. I don’t have a reason to refuse instant transportation.”

  “Before we go, though, I do have a question to ask you.”

  “Certainly, go ahead.”

  “Do you plan to join Count Rassier?”

  “I do not.”

  “And may I ask why? I am not judging you, just curious because I see that you have ambition, yet you are refusing a sure way to climb higher.”

  It took a moment for Ansel to organize his thoughts.

  “Sir Asvete, what will the future hold?”

  “What will the future hold? That’s a vague question.”

  “True. In my mind, working for the baron will allow me to change sides later even if things go awry.”

  “Going awry as in…?”

  “Like, if Count Rassier revolts.”

  Gadric’s face stiffened. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “I don’t know anything. I am clueless literally. But, having met the count a few times, I cannot shake off this ominous feeling that he aims higher, much higher.”

  Folding arms, Gadric groaned, mumbling, “A voidkin’s intuition…”

  “If I choose to work for him and if he does what I think he will do, I will be stuck with him.”

  Even if he managed to leave, the stigma of having involved himself in a rebellion may forever be on him.

  “Lad, let’s say that what you think will become true. Wouldn’t you climb high if he climbs high?”

  “That is if he succeeds, no? And, as a mage, he won’t give me the title I desire. Instead, I will get non-titular titles.”

  “You could ask him to grant you hereditary titles instead.”

  “He will want to keep me close by. Do you really think he’d let me go in such a case?”

  Gadric froze for a brief moment and chuckled. “You do have a point. The reason mages are given non-titular titles is exactly because of that. It’s to keep them close by. But, lad, not many will grant you hereditary titles.”

  “So, I won’t work for those who see me as a mage. The baron doesn’t exactly see me as a mage. He sees me as an advisor.”

  Gadric nodded along. “Well, I see your point now. Makes sense. About Count Rassier revolting…, how serious are you about that statement?”

  Ansel tilted his head. “I don’t know anything. I am trying to get a world map and I need to know how our kingdom is structured. Is the king competent?”

  “He used to be. But he is quite old now.”

  “How many children?”

  “Three princes and a princess.”

  “That’s a recipe for an internal conflict, isn’t it?”

  “He did designate the crown prince.”

  “The first son?”

  “No, the second son.”

  Ansel chuckled. “Then my fear is real. Count Rassier has plenty of excuses to entice a conflict.”

  Duke Grimhill’s domain was extremely peaceful. Therefore, perhaps naturally those from the domain didn’t think there would be a conflict for the throne when the king passed away. It took a complete outsider’s view to realize the gravity of the situation. The duke backed the crown prince. Therefore, they always believed that succession was going to be peaceful and smooth.

  “Thanks for the food for thoughts,” Gadric said, adjusting his robe while clearing his throat.

  There was another reason why they believed that the succession was going to be smooth. Everybody knew that they could not afford an internal conflict when the empire of Sol was breathing down on the kingdom of Novar. The moment they entered a civil war over the throne, the empire would very likely invade Novar. Of course, that was if someone cared enough. Once he got back, he was going to ask the duke to investigate Count Rassier and keep an eye on him.

  “Let us go. Stand next to me.”

  Ansel did just that. He had nothing with him, not even his weapon. It wouldn’t be allowed anyway.

  “Could you teach me the teleportation spell?”

  “I could and I will. But this spell consumes a large amount of mana. Even I can cast about three times a day. It’s not something I want you to cast. Well, it’s more likely that you won’t be able to cast most of the time.”

  “Understood.”

  “And you can teleport to places you’ve been to only.”

  A shining blue magic circle appeared at their feet. And then a moment later, they were at a gate to the manor of the Rassier. A pair of guards noticed them appearing from the thin air and immediately went alert, pointing their swords at them.

  “Who goes there?!”

  Ansel mimicked Wallace’s greeting once more, placing a palm on his chest and bowing lightly.

  “I am Ansel Asvete, a page serving Baron Gavin Durrell. I am here to seek an audience with Count Rassier as per his order.”

  His greeting was pretty much impeccable, and the guards’ attention turned to Gadric.

  “My name is Gadric Asvete. I am a mage serving Duke Grimhill. I simply teleported my pupil to here. I do not seek an entry.”

  “D, Duke Grimhill!” one of the guards uttered. Narrowing eyes, Gadric studied their reaction. It wasn’t that of awe. It was that of fear and hostility. Count Rassier was clearly hostile toward the duke. In other words, Ansel was likely correct to assume that the count had plans.

  “Lad, I shall wait here. Be quick.”

  “Yes, mentor.”

  One of the guards led him into the manor, beyond the gate.

  “What is this? A child?” the count raised his voice, sounding irritated. “Is this a joke?”

  Regardless, Ansel got down to a knee and lowered his head. The court wasn’t luxurious. Instead, it was rather militaristic with knight statues holding halberds on side walls. There was a long red velvet carpet that ran through the middle. The count’s throne was on one end of the room in a slightly elevated position.

  “My name is Ansel Asvete, a page working for Baron Durrell. I’ve come here on behalf of the baron, for he is unable to make his appearance before you, your grace.”

  A mere count would never be called “your grace”. Nevertheless, he was being extremely polite. Besides, the amount of land Count Rassier was controlling was actually large enough for someone of a higher rank.

  “Asvete?” He blinked his eyes a few times. “The Asvete?”

  The count had short blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He was a young man in early 20s.

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled. “Surely, you jest.”

  “My mentor is outside if you wish to verify.”

  His casual expression vanished and his face stiffened. There was a young man standing next to his throne. From his attire of a robe, it looked like he was the mage for the count. He had unkept short brown hair and black equally brown eyes.

  “Count, may I?”

  Tristan Rassier nodded. “Fine.”

  The mage walked out of the courtroom and soon returned running.

  “It’s … It’s really him! Grand sage Asvete!” he exclaimed.

  The count looked very displeased. He crossed his legs slowly and narrowed his eyes, staring at Ansel who had kneeled down. It took a moment of uneasy silence for him to speak.

  “Does this mean that you are a mage?”

  “Yes.”

  “And working for the baron.”

  “Yes.”

  “I will double your wages. Come over.”

  “Your grace, I am here about the matter regarding the baron’s marriage.”

  The count’s mage, huffing and puffing, walked as silently as possible and returned to his spot next to the count. He looked really happy for some reason.

  “Very well. Let’s get this over with first then. He turned down two good marriage proposals. One was from a viscount, mind you. And now he is going to marry a Grimhill woman? Explain yourself,” the count demanded.

  “The baron did not wish to marry a woman who was over 30 years younger than him. He desperately sought out a woman of his age and managed to find one who was 28 years old. He simply grabbed that chance.”

  Tristan scoffed at once. “Is that what you call an excuse?” He raised his voice then. “A woman’s sole job is to birth children! Age does not matter!”

  Ansel saw the same. But that was not how Gavin felt.

  “Your grace!” he raised his voice as well although he was still on his knee and was looking down, refusing to see the count’s face. “With all due respect, a man has every right to choose a partner he wishes to spend his life with. The baron wants a companion, not a doll.”

  Gritting teeth with anger, Tristan stood up at once from his throne. His mouth opened but no words came out. He stood there silently, clenching his fists and then eventually sat back down unexpectedly.

  “Page Asvete, you make a compelling argument,” he eventually said with a long sigh. “Fine, I will let the marriage happen - if - you choose to serve me.”

  “I respectively refuse,” Ansel replied promptly, which made the count’s left eyebrow twitch, presumably with anger.

  “And your reason?”

  “I’ve served the baron for two years, only two years, your grace. He was the one who found me and employed me. It is only right that I serve him for longer.”

  “Does that mean you are willing to work for me?”

  “I am,” he lied. “But, for the time being, I wish to serve the baron. He needs me. The town needs me.”

  The mage whispered some words to the count’s years.

  “Page Asvete, are you willing to put down what you said on paper?”

  In other words, the count wanted a written guarantee that Asnel would join him eventually.

  “I will not.”

  Tristan scoffed. “So, it is a blatant lie that you will join me later.”

  “With all due respect, your grace, would you agree to such a demand if you were in my shoes?”

  In fact, nobody would, and he pressed with a louder voice, “Would you agree to such a ridiculous demand?!”

  The count remained speechless, and he continued, “Your grace, we are all on the same side. Please, don’t make an enemy out of your own vassal who is simply trying to create a family.”

  His statement sounded like a heartfelt plea, and Tristan’s stiff face eased eventually and he relaxed in his throne.

  “Indeed, he is an old man in his twilight years. What could he do now? Like you said, all he can do is create a family. But it does leave a concern.”

  He was talking about Gavin’s future children having a connection to Duke Grimhill.

  “Ateria is a part of your domain. You know this. The kingdom knows this. Even history knows this. Who’s to argue?”

  There was a long uneasy silence. Eventually though, the count beamed a satisfied smile.

  “Ansel Asvete, I desire you, but I see that you will not join me, for now.”

  “That is correct, your grace. But we are all in the same boat.”

  Baron Gavin Durrell served Count Tristan Rassier. In a broad sense, Ansel wasn’t wrong. Taking a deep breath, the count pushed his back into his throne, trying to make himself more comfortable.

  “Give my blessing to Gavin Durrell. Dismissed,” he eventually declared.

  “I sincerely thank you, your grace.”

  “I do have one last request.”

  “Yes?”

  “Look at me. You’ve been avoiding eye contact ever since you entered the chamber.”

  That wasn’t a hard request to oblige. Ansel lifted up his head and looked directly into the count’s eyes, at which point he beamed a smile.

  “So, that is what you look like … I do like your stoic face. Ansel Asvete…, I shall remember your name and face. You may leave.”

  “Lad, you are back,” Gadric welcomed him back indifferently as if he was going to make it back regardless.

  “I am so … fucking tired…,” Ansel mumbled. He looked pale as well, eventually tumbling over. Gadric caught him just barely. Otherwise, he may have hurt his face. The pair of guards paid little attention to them.

  “Is it done, though?”

  He smiled. No matter how hard it was, the job was done. That alone was worth the trouble.

  “It is … done.”

  “Atta boy.”

  The meeting lasted probably ten minutes maximum, but he really did feel completely spent by the time he was walking toward Gadric. With his eyes feeling heavy, he slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly.