"Who are you?"
The soldier's voice was rough, steady.
He was built like a boulder—broad shoulders, square jaw, a giant blade hung from his back. The blade looked like it weighed a ton. Thick enough to crush a mountain with ease. The man didn't smile or blink, like he was lacking that emotion.
He walked in front of them, every step heavy, powerful.
Sylas, Nyla, and her crew followed behind him quietly. He didn't want to say anything that would incriminate him.
But he wasn't worried—it wasn't the first time he stole someone's identity.
"I'm Luis Verllia," Sylas said.
He said it with his chest, chin high, voice smooth. He walked like he owned the road.
Like the whole kingdom was already under his feet.
Nyla shot him a sharp look that screamed:
'You lying scum. How dare you lie to me?'
Before she could speak, Sylas spun toward her.
One of his hands covered her mouth. Before the man could turn to see what was happening, Sylas whispered near her ear, "Shhh."
He smiled wide at the soldier when he turned to see what was happening.
"Do you know where my friends here can get some food and parts for the ship?"
The soldier gave him a long look.
Paused.
"Yes. We are heading to the capital now."
Sylas glanced at Nyla, then winked at her—giving her a signal to play it along. But she was so upset at Sylas that she glanced back at him with a killing instinct.
The man spoke again, this time his voice flatter.
"I've heard great things about you from your mother."
"Ah, she is a great mother," Sylas replied with a humble grin. "But I do think she exaggerates my success. I told her, 'Mother, I can't be that handsome and that talented. Choose one.' But she never listens."
He almost threw up in his mouth the moment those words came out. He felt sick even calling her mother.
Nyla's eyes screamed: What is wrong with you?
"So, Luis… how does it feel to have the chance to rule two kingdoms?"
Sylas gasped, then pressed his hand to his chest dramatically.
"Terrifying, really. Power, fame, unmatched good looks… a curse I bear alone."
He wiped his eyes, pretending to wipe away his fake tears.
The soldiers glanced at him again—brows twitching. They were all already feeling suspicious of him.
"If that happens," Sylas said, flashing a slow, confident smile, "you'll have the full support of Verllia… and Thal Zora."
Thal Zora—the kingdom of Luis's mother.
She is the eldest daughter of the King of Thal Zora.
"You are too kind, Sir Luis," the soldier muttered.
"With all the resources your country holds," Sylas said, voice warm and steady, "forming an alliance with you would be an honor… and a privilege."
He learned something important back when he lived as Arthur. A king's power wasn't just in his strength, but his words. Knowing how to talk was important.
How to make people hear what they wanted.
How to say just enough to make them believe everything that escaped out of your mouth. Same concept works here.
They walked in silence for a while.
Then, they came across a massive gate—tall, crowned in iron crests.
It reminded Sylas of home.
But once they stepped through…
Everything changed. It was not even anywhere close to his kingdom. This place was the definition of gloomy.
The houses looked like they were held together by a single brick.
Roofs made of rusted metal scraps.
Walls cracked, leaning—like they were tired of standing.
Some had windows, but they were boarded shut.
No light inside.
Doors dangled loose from their hinges, open to the wind.
Children ran barefoot through the dust, their clothes worn thin.
Their skin looked dried out. Their eyes had no life behind them.
It was all clear now.
This city had been forgotten for years.
And yet, high above it all…
The king's palace shimmered.
Clean. Untouched. Perfect.
They walked until a child bumped into him.
"Sir, do you have something to eat, or money?"
The child looked weak, skinny, and bruised.
Sylas knelt down.
"Hey, little one, you okay?"
The child nodded.
The man turned.
"Hey, brat! What are you doing touching the prince?"
He stepped forward and swung his leg—
A sharp, heavy motion.
He aimed straight at the child's stomach.
But Sylas moved.
His hand shot out—fast.
He caught the man's leg mid-air.
"It's okay. He's just a child."
His tone was soft. Gentle. Like his self, but he had his head down so no one could see.
Only Nyla could see his expression.
He was on the brink of tearing up.
He took one gold coin from Nyla and handed it to the child.
The boy ran off with excitement.
"Prince Luis, you can't be nice to them," the man said, scoffing.
"They're like dogs. If you feed them once… they'll keep coming back."
His voice was cold.
Sylas let out a cracked laugh.
"You saw through me. I'm sorry," he said, then paused.
"You can go ahead first. I'ma help my friend here get the stuff they need."
"You sure?" the man asked.
"Yes. It'll give you some time to throw me a welcome party."
He grinned.
"You can't talk about forming an alliance without a good feast."
The man laughed loudly.
"You are absolutely right!"
Once the man left their sight, Sylas turned to Nyla.
His tone dropped—low. Steady.
"Leave this now. Get away as far as you can."
She blinked, confused.
"What are you planning?" she asked.
Her tone shifted—softer now. Broken.
"Who are you?
I don't know if I can trust you anymore."
He looked at her.
He understood how she felt. But he didn't want to drag innocent people into his mess.
Bringing them here was a mistake and selfish.
"I have work to do. Please, all of you get away from this as fast as you can."
Then he started to walk toward the palace.
"Answer my question, Sylas… or are you Luis?" she shouted.
He turned.
His expression softened.
"You can always trust me."
Then he turned—
And walked toward the palace.
One goal in mind.
Dethrone the king.