"You'd be as worried as I am if you saw what I saw…"
Rhyla tilted her head. "What did you see?"
"I followed your plan. Both Jorvik and Liam sparred."
"Ah," she replied. 'If that's what this is about, then his expression could only mean one thing… Jorvik lost.'
She shook her head. "Don't worry. I expected it. Anyone in his shoes wouldn't take this match seriously."
"That doesn't answer—"
"Just train him. Increase the intensity and duration, and since he now knows to take it seriously, the real match will be easier."
Asterix shook his head. "Rhyla… What do you think happened in the spar?"
Rhyla had assumed that Liam had outmaneuvered Jorvik, maybe gotten lucky, outclassed him in speed or technique. But looking at Asterix's reaction, she realized that wasn't what happened at all.
"What happened?" she asked.
"Liam slapped him down."
"So Liam beat Jorvik without luck." Rhyla nodded. "Fret not, that's not an issue. Train him, trust him."
Asterix sat down, covering his face. "No, you don't understand. He slapped him down."
She sighed. "You have to be clear with how you say things. How did Liam beat Jorvik?"
Frustrated, Asterix started biting the skin on his finger.
An ant crawled out of the sugar cube jar and onto the table.
As it walked across Asterix's view, he raised his hand—
PAH!
He crushed it.
"Asterix!" Rhyla snapped as the table shook.
"That's... how." Asterix dusted the dead ant off his hand, sending it flying onto the floor in front of Rhyla.
"I saw Liam slap Jorvik's chest.
I saw his head flick back.
I saw the breath leave his lungs."
"Impossible…" Rhyla murmured.
Liam wasn't supposed to be even a beginner fighter.
But from what Asterix was saying…
He had to have been advanced.
"I saw it happen. Jorvik stayed on the floor, unmoving."
Rhyla tried to make sense of it. "Did Liam have any mana on him?"
"None. Jorvik did."
"Was it a hidden combat technique?"
Asterix shook his head. "If he used one, I would've known. Rhyla, you were right to worry about Liam."
"But Rhyla, it's fine. We let Liam keep his title. We let the attention die out. Soon, he'll be nothing but a memory."
"Tsk…" Rhyla was visibly irritated. "Right now, Zalora and Syphora are looking at all the marriage candidates."
"Rhyla… think this through…"
"Valen must not share the spotlight with Liam. He must not!" she snapped. "Because if that happens, then Valen won't even be considered."
"And that means his chance of being Emperor would dwindle."
Valen, hearing the explanation, sighed and nodded. "What should we do?"
"No one speaks of this anymore. The last thing we need is Liam getting more attention than he deserves."
She massaged her forehead.
She had calculated many possibilities.
Some of her theories could even be outlandish.
But Liam Maddach?
The Lord of Gluttony?
No, the God of Gluttony—being able to fight?
To slap a trained youth down like nothing?
None of her records, none of her estimates, could have prepared her for that.
Something's amiss…
Her eyes locked onto Asterix's.
"You're the Knight. What do you think happened with Liam?"
Asterix had thought about this on the way here. He hesitated, then spoke.
"I can only think of one thing. But it sounds so impossible… so fantastical…"
"Just tell me," she demanded.
"…Maybe it was all an act. Maybe he was never lazy. Maybe he was never gluttonous. Maybe he was never a deadbeat. Maybe he was training. In secret. For this very moment."
"That's…" She was about to dismiss it.
But the more she thought about it, the more plausible it sounded.
She remembered the day the announcement was made.
Liam had gone from someone no one would even approach—
To someone who suddenly looked respectable.
It was like he had made a complete 180-degree change.
At the time, she thought it was nothing more than a desperate attempt to keep his title.
But looking back at it now, she hadn't just seen a lazy person scrambling to change.
She had seen a completely different person through his eyes.
"…Maybe," she muttered.
"I don't know for sure. We shouldn't put out some unbelievable statement."
"We won't." She shook her head. I shouldn't be thinking about this… It'll just delay me…
"But the plans will have to change."
"…What plans?"
"Jorvik is useless to us now. He'll be replaced."
"Valen needs the attention—"
Asterix quickly cut her off.
"My Lady, no. Please don't. Why take a risk when there's no need for one?"
"It's not a risk when the result is guaranteed."
"But what if Valen loses?" Asterix accidentally blurted out.
Rhyla shot him a glare. "That… will not happen. It will never happen."
"I— I'm sorry, my Lady. I meant that. But… we never expected Jorvik to lose."
"Valen is not Jorvik. But if you're so worried, then train Valen."
Asterix had read a few books, and one quote stood out in his mind:
"A future Emperor does not gamble his reputation on unknowns."
"It's final." Rhyla's voice was sharp now. "Get Cheng to change Liam's opponent to Valen."
"…Okay." He turned to leave.
On paper, it felt like the perfect plan.
Get Valen to crush Liam.
Make sure all the attention stayed on Valen.
But ever since seeing Jorvik get slapped down by Liam, Asterix didn't know what to think anymore.
He looked down at his hand, realizing he had bitten his skin raw again.
He needed a distraction.
Quickly, he made his way to the House's dining area. Normally, he'd grab some sausages, sit down, and let his mind settle.
But as he entered—
The place was bright from the setting sun.
Stepping away from the direct sunlight, his eyes adjusted.
And there—at his table—
Jorvik sat, waiting.
Valen sighed as he spotted him.
He had just dealt with a stressed-out Rhyla.
The last thing he wanted was to deal with a whining kid.
"Asterix…" Jorvik called softly.
"…Sit."