"I was sure you'd say no," Evrin teased, referencing Damian's usual reclusive tendencies back in Eldoris. Here, however, he seemed far more involved in things.
"I might need them—for both the preparations and facing the dungeon," Damian admitted, speaking openly since only his friends and trusted people were nearby. Not that it was any big secret worth hiding
"You plan to dive with all fifty people?" Lucian asked, raising a brow.
"Yes, if possible," Damian replied matter-of-factly.
"How far do you intend to go?" Grace asked curiously.
"What's the farthest the students have ever reached?" Damian asked, glancing at the group.
"Level 17," Einar answered.
"Then at least double that—unless the environment proves too harsh for first-rankers," Damian declared, his tone resolute. His words drew wide-eyed stares from everyone present.
"That's…" someone muttered in disbelief.
"Why aim so high?" Fiona asked, her tone cautious.
"When else will you get a chance to gain so many levels?" Damian remarked casually. "Fighting wars all my life isn't exactly my idea of fun." He shrugged. "If I can reach as far as possible with all my tools—and with all of you—why shouldn't I?" He smirked and added jokingly, "Earn enough levels to even touch the transcendent seed level."
The comment earned a mix of incredulous stares and raised eyebrows. While most took it as a joke, Damian knew it wasn't entirely out of reach for some, like Sam and Einar. Even for the first-rankers, reaching Level 20 in a dungeon alongside him would be a significant achievement. Unlike his crippled growth, they could easily level.
He had killed a goddamn third ranker and he couldn't even level two of his first ranker jobs to max level. If it was any other guy in his place, that guy would have been a transcended seed by now-with the simple number of people he had killed.
Just reaching second rank would give him an option to choose the upgraded version of his first prestigious job. Damian expected another big boost in his stats from it.
As the event wound down, Damian set his glass aside and bade farewell to the others, signaling his departure. His friends knew about the project he and Reize were working on, as well as his ongoing research—Damian wasn't one to waste time. Lumi often spoke on their behalf, though she didn't share too many details. Reize, like Damian, preferred to keep their work private.
Still, Lumi couldn't resist talking about their project, especially given her runic array expertise. She was one of the few who could grasp the scope of the undertaking from their blueprints alone, though most of their friends doubted or dismissed her exaggerated tales.
"We'll take good care of your squire. Don't worry about it," Maelor said, the way he said it felt weird.
Between the earlier seating arrangements and this statement, something felt off. Damian exchanged a look with Lucian, silently asking the unspoken question. She seemed just as confused.
"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Your Highness?" Damian asked directly.
Maelor hesitated for a moment, his eyes betraying a mix of calculation and resolve. Finally, he gestured to his attendants, who began asking others nicely to leave the room. The atmosphere grew tense as Evrin, Einar, and Grace were also asked to step outside. Though they cast wary glances, they complied, leaving only Maelor's two close attendants, along with Damian, Sam, Lucian, Adrian, and Fiona.
"What's going on here?" Sam asked suspiciously.
"There's something I need to discuss with you two," Maelor said, sitting back in his padded chair.
The others followed his lead and took their seats.
"My eldest brother is with my father in Ashenvale, as you know," Maelor began. "William was left in charge at First Dawn(Dawnstar Capital)-amassing as much advantage as he could before they return, and Leon is… busy with his "activities" in the west."
"I apologize, Prince, but when did we give the impression that we cared about your family matters?" Sam interrupted, his tone sharp.
"It's not just about my family—it's about the royal family, my impatient friend. Or have you truly forsaken your homeland?" Maelor countered, his gaze narrowing.
Sam's eyes widened, betraying his shock. Damian had suspected as much—Maelor knew. The question now was how. Damian glanced at Lucian, who returned his look, equally unsettled.
"Don't worry," Maelor added, noticing their exchange. "She didn't tell me anything. I guessed it—from rumors, from observing your closeness with Lady Lucian. Word travels, even to the capital. It took time to confirm it, but now…" He pulled out a stack of letters and placed them on the table. "Who would've thought—the miracle survivor and the lost son of Sunblade."
"Let me guess—you're planning to use that against us?" Sam said bitterly.
Damian wasn't surprised by the accusation. What did surprise him was Sam's lack of reaction to his name. Clearly, he wasn't the only one skilled at keeping secrets.
"Oh, no," Maelor chuckled. "That would be the end of me. You're both far stronger than me. I'm not that foolish."
"Then what's the point of this performance?" Damian asked, his voice calm but laced with impatience.
Maelor's expression hardened, but Damian could still catch the flicker of ambition in his eyes. It unsettled Maelor himself deeply, yet there was no mistaking the resolve driving him forward.
"I want you two by my side to finally bring justice to our homeland. I need your help, Damian, to bring peace back to Dawnstar. I need your help to claim the throne.
A Sunblade and a Goldflame, united once more. That's how our ancestors achieved greatness. Their greatest mistake was letting that unity fall apart—and I refuse to repeat it."
Lucian and Sam stared at the prince in stunned disbelief, their expressions unreadable. Maelor was the fourth prince, the least gifted of the five Goldflame heirs. The idea of him surpassing his far more talented brothers—or even his third-ranker father and uncle—to become king was almost laughable.
Damian couldn't deny one thing, though: this guy had some serious balls.