Theodore POV

Theodore gazed at Jeffrey, the official, and pondered how someone could be so incredibly stupid. Like, was there a special school for it? Did they hand out certificates in Advanced Idiocy? Because this guy had to have graduated top of his class.

The three guards were still picking themselves up off the ground, dust clinging to their uniforms. Theodore hadn't even done anything, really. Just moved. Basic footwork stuff he'd learned ages ago. But apparently that was enough to send three Rank 3s tumbling over each other like drunk puppies.

Honestly, it was almost sad. Last time he'd fought a Rank 3 seriously, it'd actually been somewhat challenging. Rufus had pushed him a little. But these guys? After weeks of sparring with Freya these checkpoint guards might as well have been moving in slow motion.

Freya could've taken all three of them with one hand tied behind her back. While blindfolded. And probably juggling.

"Get up!" Jeffery's voice cracked like a whip. Or tried to. It came out more like a squeak. "What are you doing rolling around in the dirt? He's one man!"

The guards scrambled to their feet. Theodore could see the confusion in their eyes. They knew what their senses told them—Rank 2, weak aura, should be easy—but their bodies were telling a different story. The story where they kept ending up face-first in the dirt.

Jenkins wiped blood from his nose. When had that happened? Oh right, when he'd face-planted after tripping over his own feet. "Sir, maybe we should—"

"Should what?" Jeffery's face had gone an interesting shade of purple. "Should let a criminal walk free? Should let him mock the authority of the checkpoint? Should roll over and show our bellies like dogs?"

Theodore sighed. This was getting tedious. He'd tried being polite. Tried offering money. Hell, he'd given them multiple chances to back down. But no, they had to make it complicated.

The guards spread out again. More careful this time. Morrison had his hand on his sword hilt. Hendricks was gathering mana, Theodore could feel it building, probably for some kind of binding spell. Jenkins just looked like he wanted to be anywhere else.

"Last chance," Theodore said. "Walk away. Pretend this never happened. Everyone stays conscious."

"You dare threaten official guards?" Jeffery shrieked. Actually shrieked. Theodore winced at the pitch. "Do you know what the penalty is for assaulting checkpoint personnel?"

"I haven't assaulted anyone. They assaulted themselves. I just moved."

"Seize him! Now! All of you!"

The guards exchanged glances. Theodore could see them psyching themselves up. Three Rank 3s against one Rank 2. On paper, it should be a massacre. In reality...

Morrison drew his sword. The steel rang as it cleared the sheath, catching sunlight along its edge. A nice sword, Theodore noted absently. Well-maintained. Shame its owner didn't know how to use it properly.

They came at him together. Morrison with his sword, Hendricks with his binding spell, Jenkins with his fists wreathed in flames.

Theodore moved. A half-step left put Morrison's sword swing into empty air. A pivot on his heel guided Hendricks's binding spell right into Jenkins's path. The flaming fists met magical restraints in a shower of sparks and cursing.

Morrison tried to recover, bringing his sword around in a horizontal sweep. Theodore ducked under it, touched two fingers to the guard's wrist. A pulse of kinetic mana, precisely applied, and Morrison's hand spasmed. The sword went flying, embedding itself in a wooden post twenty feet away.

Hendricks had given up on spells. He charged in, trying to grapple. Theodore let him come, then redirected all that momentum with a gentle touch to the shoulder, expelling kinetic energy. Physics did the rest. Hendricks went sailing past, straight into Morrison who was still staring at his empty hand in confusion.

Jenkins, singed and angry, had managed to burn through the binding spell. He came in low, trying to tackle Theodore around the waist. Theodore stepped aside at the last moment. Jenkins hit nothing but air, overbalanced, and face-planted again.

Three seconds. Maybe four. All three guards down again.

Theodore put his hands back in his pockets. "We done here?"

That's when he heard it. Whistles. Boots on stone. A lot of boots on stone. Theodore turned to see more guards pouring out of the checkpoint building. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. They formed a circle, blocking all exits.

So much for keeping a low profile.

"Reinforcements, finally!" Jeffery looked like a kid on his birthday. "You see? You see what happens when you assault checkpoint guards?" He puffed up his chest. "My cousin is the Vice-Captain of Valemont's City Guard!"

Of course he was. Of course this idiot had connections. Theodore glanced back at the carriage. Freya was watching with interest, looking like she wanted to jump out and join the fun. Juliana still had her eyes closed, but Theodore could see the tension in her shoulders.

Twenty guards. All Rank 3 from what Theodore could sense. This was escalating fast. Too fast. Someone might get hurt if he wasn't careful. These weren't trained fighters like Rufus or those in guilds. They were checkpoint guards, used to dealing with smugglers and petty criminals, not actual combat. The city had more competent people for that.

Time to end this. Theodore moved again. This time he put some actual effort in. The first guard didn't even see him coming. A kinetic powered strike to the temple rendered the man unconscious before he hit the ground. The second managed half a shout before Theodore's palm found his solar plexus. The air left his lungs in a whoosh and he crumpled.

"Monster," one whispered.

"Demon!"

"Stop, criminal scum!"

"How is he doing that?"

"He's supposed to be Rank 2!"

Theodore stood in the center of a ring of unconscious bodies. The remaining guards looked at each other, then at Theodore, then at their fallen comrades. As one, they turned their weapons down.

"You cowards!!" Jeffery screamed. "Traitors! I'll have you all—"

"What's happening here?"

The voice cut through Jeffery's tirade. Cold, authoritative, and accompanied by an aura that pressed down on everyone like a physical weight. Peak Rank 3, the very edge of breaking through to Rank 4.

A man strode through the checkpoint gates. Tall, broad-shouldered, wearing the same uniform as the other guards but with way more decoration. The Vice-Captain's insignia was on his chest.

"Cousin!" Jeffery practically sobbed with relief. "This criminal! He's assaulted our guards! Resisted arrest! Claims to be royalty! The audacity!"

The Vice-Captain's eyes swept over the scene. Twenty guards on the ground. Theodore standing calmly in the middle. His lips curled into a sneer.

"I see." He focused on Theodore. "A mere Rank 2 did this?"

"Here we go again. Let me explain—" Theodore started.

"Silence." The Vice-Captain's aura flared, pressing down on Theodore, demanding submission. "I don't need explanations from criminals."

Theodore felt the pressure but didn't budge. After feeling Freya's aura at full blast during their spars, this was like a gentle breeze. Still, he kept his expression neutral. There was no need to antagonize the man.

Theodore really did not want to hurt them.

"There's been a misunderstanding," Theodore said calmly. "Your cousin destroyed our legitimate travel documents and—"

"I said silence!" The Vice-Captain's hand went to his sword. "You dare assault checkpoint guards? Men under my authority? My own blood?"

"They attacked first. I defended myself."

"Lies!" Jeffery interjected. "He threatened us!"

The Vice-Captain's face darkened. He took a step forward. "Kneel."

Theodore blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Kneel. Apologize for your crimes. Beg forgiveness. Perhaps I'll only break one of your legs instead of both."

The aura pressure increased. Theodore could see several conscious bystanders struggling to stay upright. In the carriage, Freya started to stand, face flushed with anger. Theodore caught her eye, shook his head minutely. She sat back down, but he could practically feel her frustration radiating from the carriage.

"I'll make you a counter-offer," Theodore said. "I'll pay a fine. Say... ten thousand aurums? That should cover any inconvenience."

The Vice-Captain's eyes bulged. "Aurums? You think this is about aurums?" He drew his sword in one smooth motion. "You've insulted the City Guard's honor! Attacked my men! Defied my authority! Aurums won't save you from justice!"

"Twenty thousand."

"Shut your mouth!"

"Fifty thousand?"

"I'll teach you respect personally!" The Vice-Captain's blade began to glow with mana. "Draw your weapon, criminal. Let's see how you fare against a real warrior!"

Theodore sighed. "I really wanted to keep a low profile."

"You think spouting nonsense will save you?"

"I don't suppose telling you I'm Theodore Lockheart would help? As in, the royal family? The people whose crest is on that carriage you're ignoring?"

The Vice-Captain laughed. Jeffery joined in, though he sounded more hysterical than amused.

"Adding impersonation to your crimes!" the Vice-Captain said. "As if a Lockheart would travel with just two women and no guards! As if they'd stop at a checkpoint like common travelers! You must think we're fools!"

"I mean..." Theodore glanced at Jeffery. "Yes?"

"Enough! Face your punishment!"

Theodore could feel it building. The Vice-Captain gathered mana for a serious strike. The kind that would definitely kill a normal Rank 2. The kind that would force Theodore to reveal more of his strength to survive. Which was probably the whole point. Someone had set this up. Paid off Jeffery, most likely. Fed him information. All to force Theodore into a corner where he'd have to show his hand.

Well, two could play at that game.

"I am Theodore Lockheart," he said again, louder this time. Making sure the gathering crowd heard. "We're traveling to the capital for the tournament. Your cousin destroyed our papers and demanded I turn myself in for a crime I have not committed. When I refused, he ordered your men to attack me."

"Lies upon lies!" The Vice-Captain's sword flared brighter. "Die knowing your pathetic deception failed!"

Why were all these people braindead?

Theodore released his mana.

The pressure descended like a mountain falling from the sky. The Vice-Captain's knees buckled. Jeffery hit the ground, gasping. The conscious guards in the area stumbled, some falling entirely.

"I tried to be reasonable," Theodore said. "I really did."

The Vice-Captain forced himself upright through sheer will. "Demon! What sorcery is this?"

The Vice-Captain charged. It was a good charge, Theodore had to admit. Strong form, decent speed. The sword strike would've bisected a normal opponent. Too bad Theodore wasn't normal.

He swatted the blade blade aside with his hand and a burst of kinetic energy. The Vice-Captain's eyes went wide.

"How—"

Theodore pulled the mana back, quick as it came. No need to cause a bigger scene. The Vice-Captain stumbled forward, off-balance from the sudden lack of resistance. Theodore helped him along with a blast to the chest hard enough that the man coughed out blood.

"What—are—you?" The Vice-Captain wheezed.

"I told you. Theodore Lockheart. You didn't listen."

"Impossible! The princes don't—you can't be—"

He charged again. Theodore sidestepped, but the Vice-Captain adjusted mid-swing. The blade whistled past Theodore's ear. Closer than he'd like. The man was skilled, Theodore would give him that. Probably the best fighter in the city guard. Still not good enough.

They exchanged a dozen moves in as many seconds. The Vice-Captain attacking with increasing desperation. Theodore defending, deflecting, occasionally countering without revealing any of his magic. He could end this anytime. One serious strike and the Vice-Captain would be done. But that wasn't the point.

Theodore needed to stall. Make noise. Draw attention. Someone wanted him to reveal his strength? Fine. But he'd do it on his terms.

"Stop dancing and fight!" The Vice-Captain's face was red. "Face me properly!"

"I am facing you. You're just not very good at this."

That got him. The Vice-Captain roared, pouring mana into his blade until it blazed like a small sun. He brought it down in an overhead strike that would've split Theodore in half.

Theodore stepped inside the arc, shocking the Vice-Captain. The blade passed harmlessly behind him as his [Mana Shield] deflected it. His palm found the Vice-Captain's sternum. A pulse of kinetic energy, carefully controlled, blasted the man flying. He hit the ground hard, rolled, came up coughing.

"Stay down," Theodore advised. "Please."

The Vice-Captain spat blood, tried to stand, but his legs gave out.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Like thunder, the voice echoed across the checkpoint. They were surrounded by a new aura, this one unquestionably Rank 4. Theodore turned, as did everyone else, and saw a man walking toward them. Grizzled and older, he wore a Captain's uniform that had seen actual combat. He looked around the scene. The unconscious guards. The Vice-Captain on his knees. Jeffery cowering in the dirt. Theodore standing calmly in the middle of it all. Then he looked at the carriage. The crest of royalty. Then at Juliana and Theodore. His face paled.

***

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