"I'm planning something risky," he said quietly, nodding toward the Dreamvault. "And I need your help."
Elaine's eyes narrowed. "Go on."
"I want to… negotiate with Rion."
She blinked. "Negotiate what, exactly?"
Liam rubbed the back of his neck. "That he should lose. Intentionally."
Elaine stared at him.
Then she turned, briskly walking toward the door.
"Where are you going, sister?" Liam called, panicking slightly.
"To get sister Cassandra. I don't want to be caught in whatever delusional mess this is."
"Hey, wait a minute — at least hear me out!"
"I did. You just said you want to ask Rion Zervas to throw the match. You've lost your mind." Her hand was already on the door latch.
"I'm baiting him," Liam added quickly.
Elaine froze.
"…I'm listening."
Liam gave a small breath of relief. "Rion seems ambitious," he said carefully. "He asked me for friendship."
Elaine blinked again. "Huh? When?"
"After the away match."
She folded her arms, suspicious now. "So what are you planning, exactly? And speak clearly this time. Or I will call sister."
"We are not winning the match with our current strategy, sister."
Elaine's voice rose a notch. "You made us spend so much on that Dreamvault! Do you even know how costly it is? You said that would help—!"
"And it will," Liam interrupted. "Didn't I say I have a plan?"
Elaine glared.
"I want Rion to think he knows our plan," Liam said carefully. "That's why I'll take the Dreamvault with me when I meet him. If he recognizes it, someone on his side will want to take a look inside. He won't resist that temptation."
"And why would he believe it's our real strategy?" Elaine asked sharply. "Why would he even trust what he sees in it?"
"Who said I'll show it to him?" Liam replied. "I'm just going to let him believe he could get a look at it. Let him wonder. Let his side spy and think they know what we're planning."
Elaine narrowed her eyes. "That's… still reckless. And how are you going to pull that off?"
"I'll figure that part out."
Elaine rubbed her temples. "And if he doesn't spy?"
"Then we lose," Liam said without a shred of hesitation. "Fair and square."
There was a quiet pause. A seriousness hung between them.
Elaine finally spoke, her voice quieter now. "…You think he will?"
Liam looked toward the Dreamvault.
"I do. Because it's within the rules." His gaze was steady now. "And ambition is predictable when the rules don't punish it."
Elaine exhaled slowly, studying his face.
"… Are you really thirteen?" she muttered.
*
Liam ascended the spiral stairwell of the boys' dormitory, floor by floor, until the etching above the archway read: Fourth Year Wing. The doors here were older and polished darker.
He found the room marked Rion Zervas and knocked once.
The door opened to reveal a warmly lit interior, more spacious than any room Liam had in his first year's dorms: mahogany furniture, ample shelves, and a crystal-light array hanging above the central table. A soft laugh escaped Liam.
"Prince Liam," he said, offering a short bow. "What do I owe the pleasure?"
Liam nodded in return, his tone light. "Just a casual visit. Thought I'd drop by."
Rion blinked once, mildly surprised, but stepped aside with a welcoming gesture. "Of course. Please, come in."
"You fourth-years live like lords," he commented dryly, stepping inside.
"It may appear that way, Prince Liam, but I'm sure it doesn't compare to the comforts of the palace."
Liam's smile didn't fade, but it thinned. "Well. Marble doesn't help you sleep better."
The two shared a look, a flash of tension slipping between their civil tones before Rion gestured to the settee.
"If I may ask," Rion said, lounging opposite him, "at a magic institute. I had heard you were officially in the royal succession? Shouldn't the thirteenth prince be preparing for court? What brings someone like you to the Institute?"
Liam dodged with practiced ease. "I enjoy studying," he replied. "Besides, not every prince is born for the throne."
"I see… and if I may again — forgive the curiosity — but I noticed you're not the House leader. Was that a decision made out of preference, Prince Liam?"
Liam's voice didn't waver. "It was never a question. My sister is better suited for the role."
That silenced any hint of probing. Rion inclined his head slightly, noting the finality in his tone.
"Well," he said lightly, "I had hoped to introduce you to my seniors… but you know how it is with final years. They don't often answer our calls."
Liam leaned back. "That wasn't the case during the match.. You seemed quite commanding, had them standing like silent generals.
Rion chuckled. "You're not wrong, Prince Liam. But things aren't always what they appear. Even as a fourth-year, one must mind his steps. Seniority doesn't always reciprocate with respect — I'm in my fourth year and even I don't dare drop the honorifics with you."
Liam waved the notion away. "We're on campus. You've read the Student Handbook. There's no royal status inside Institute walls."
Rion's eyes gleamed. "Ah, but rules bend, don't they? Especially when power has a way of… tilting the walls themselves."
Liam gave a small nod, appreciating the phrasing.
As the two adjusted in their seats, Liam unclasped his satchel and set it beside him. He flipped the latch open, not to draw attention, but to pull out a small parchment-bound scroll — a Barter Bond, embossed with the seal of the Royal Treasury.
Liam said casually, unrolling the bond across his knee. "How much mithril coin can you afford to trade? I'll convert it for gold. I need some for a transaction."
Rion blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. "Prince Liam… may I ask how much you're looking to exchange?"
"As much as you can spare," Liam replied smoothly. "I'll give you gold for every coin. Bank-certified."
Rion hesitated, still studying the scroll. "I… I was gathering some coins for a smithing commission. But I can give you a hundred — half of which I have currently in keeping."
Liam glanced around, then asked, "Do you have any ink? I didn't bring mine."
Rion reached toward his desk and passed over a small inkwell with a modest silver cap. "Here, Prince Liam."
Without pause, Liam dipped a stylus into the inkwell and signed the bond, folding it neatly before handing it over. "Use this at any registered bank. They'll honor the exchange immediately."
Rion took it with both hands, as one might accept a relic. "This is worth… a hundred thousand gold."
Liam didn't blink. "It's just money."
That was when Rion noticed it — as Liam tucked away the bond scroll, the faint glimmer of something arcane shimmered from within the satchel's inner lining. A soft blue pulse. A mirrored sheen. A Dreamvault.
Rion's eyes narrowed, curiosity piqued. "Forgive me, but… is that a Dreamvault?"
Liam didn't answer. Just leaned back in his chair, the smallest of smirks tugging at his lips.
Rion's eyes flicked toward it. "That's not standard issue. You've been using it for planning, haven't you?"
Liam didn't respond, only tilted his head slightly, watching the fireplace flicker.
Talk shifted. Rion brought up Adrian, Liam's eldest brother — the famed first prince, known across Ironhelm for his barony records. He'd heard tales of how that Prince Adrian once held a gate as a commander, against thirty mages.
"I suppose greatness runs in the family," Rion said with admiration.
Liam listened, his expression unreadable.
Hours passed in casual banter, but finally Liam leaned forward.
"I came here for something else."
Rion straightened. "Oh? Then, if I may ask, Prince Liam… what is the nature of your visit?"
Liam looked him in the eyes. "I want to propose a deal."
"A deal?"
"Yes. For the next match. I want you to throw it."
Silence. Rion studied him, then asked cautiously, "Is this… a test, Prince Liam?"
"No," Liam said plainly. "I hate losing."
"You're serious?" Rion stilled. His reaction was subtle, but the air seemed to cool.
Rion inhaled slowly. "If I may be so bold… that is a rather large request. What do I stand to gain?" Rion asked, his voice was calm like he was testing the waters.
"Not every day do you make royalty owe you one," Liam replied. "Leverage like that is hard to find."
Rion looked thoughtful. "I'll give you the upper hand," he said at last, carefully choosing his words.
Liam pretended to take it at face value. "Deal."
Just then, the door creaked open. Selka Ren stepped in along with two other students in House Zervas. She smiled as soon as she saw Liam.
"Prince Liam," she greeted. "An honor."
"The honor's mine," Liam returned politely.
Selka turned to Rion. "May I ask the purpose of this visit?"
"I'll speak with you about that shortly," Rion replied.
He turned back to Liam. "Is there anything further I can offer, Prince Liam?"
"No. You've been generous." Liam stood. "I should take my leave anyway."
"If I may ask just a moment, I'll escort you out myself."
Liam shook his head. "Not necessary."
But Selka stepped forward. "Allow us then. It would be an honor."
Rion inclined his head. "May I escort you after I finish here? I will not make you wait."
"Fine."
After a brief moment alone outside Rion's dorm room, Selka quickly appeared to Liam's presence along with the other two, "Please. This way," she gestured.
The group walked down the fourth-floor corridor, Liam flanked by two Zervas members. Selka walked beside him, her hands clasped behind her.
"That Vine Bind you used in the Ashen Plateau, the only Barrier having cast offensively to block sister's Restorare reaching senior Theo — I have to say, it was brilliant. Liam said casually. "
Selka's eyes sparkled. "I'll take that as a compliment. But I won't ask how you were able to dodge it. I assume… trade secret?"
Liam smiled without confirming. "Something like that."
By the time they reached the lower floor, Liam already knew: the bait had been planted. Rion saw the Dreamvault.
As Liam reached his dorm floor, he noticed a corridor guard standing patiently outside his door. The man straightened as Liam approached.
"Student Liam," the guard said formally, "I've been asked to deliver a message. Student Serena is looking for you — she says it's urgent."
Liam raised an eyebrow, sighing lightly. "Of course she does…"
He stepped into his room briefly, just long enough to set his satchel down on the desk. When he emerged again, Selka and the group were still waiting.
"Thanks for the escort," Liam said, giving her a polite nod.
Selka returned the gesture with a small bow. "Anytime."
Liam turned without further delay, falling into step beside the corridor guard, heading off down the hall. Behind him, the door to his dorm room clicked shut — quiet and unattended.
Back in the Demo Room, Liam finished his point of view as the last of his narration settled in the room. "Well," he said, voice low and slightly amused, "the rest… You know how it unfolded."
A silence followed — the kind filled with shifting glances and smirking disbelief — until the inevitable questions came.
"But how did you know he betrayed you?" James asked, leaning forward. "We were sailing smoothly initially. He didn't retaliate at all at first. What made you assume he was going to pull something?"
Liam gave a tired but knowing smile. "No way a guy who wants to throw a match trains hard enough to learn how to maneuver a battleship like that. He kept pace with us the whole time. That's no small feat. Do you think he was chasing us so closely… just to lose? Even if he knew our plan, he could've chosen to let it fall apart. But he didn't. He trained. That told me everything I needed to know."
There was a beat, then more murmuring, more looks passed among them — this time in admiration.
"Still can't believe it," Theo muttered. "The way it turned… that was art. You pulled off a whole scheme, Liam. Single-handedly won us the match."
But Liam shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "If not for sister Elaine working harder than anyone each night and mastering the Iceberg, we wouldn't have had the terrain on our side. The way the estuary froze? That wasn't me. That was her."
Elaine, who'd been sipping water quietly, almost choked. "Wh– what?"
And then came the teasing.
"You mean the 'ice princess' was holding out on us?" Evaline laughed.
"So that's why you faked that injury," James grinned.
Elaine flushed. "I didn't fake anything. I was exhausted!"
"You didn't say a word about any of this, Liam," Cassandra said, folding her arms. "Why not?"
Liam looked around, thoughtful. "It's very hard to fake being trapped with a winning mentality.. But if you all didn't know… then the enemy couldn't tell, either. When people believe they're winning, they get reckless. And Rion — only he believed it. He thought it was going perfectly. It had to feel real to him. The fewer people who knew, the more convincing it would be."
He paused. "And you've felt that, haven't you? When are you being trapped? That gut feeling? Like when Selka used Vine Bind. Didn't you feel it?"
Theo blinked. "Wait — that? Yeah, I have his question too. How did you even know that?"
Liam shrugged. "Normal instinct. Everyone has it. I read about it in the Arcanum, the book was Interpersonal Duel Perception."
"Oh, now we're quoting books," Evaline muttered, rolling her eyes.
"Alright, alright, enough of that," Cassandra cut in, clapping her hands once. "Now that all's well, let's talk about next match plans. But before that — the cheesecake."
Cheers erupted, and Evaline summoned the box with a flick of her wrist. The cake was cut. Plates were handed out. Liam declined — full already — and leaned back to rest. Serena, however, caught him eyeing the slice she was balancing carefully on her plate.
She squinted. "Are you judging me?"
"I didn't say anything," Liam defended.
"You didn't have to."
Everyone laughed as Serena indignantly took the largest bite possible, daring Liam with her eyes.
Even Cassandra cracked a smile. But when Liam glanced her way, he gave her a curious look, but said nothing. The party was winding down now. The room felt warm with shared accomplishment and post-battle camaraderie.
Theo, with a grin, tapped an EchoVault stone on the desk. Soft music filled the Demo Room — a singer's recording with gentle tempo and fading echoes. He held out a hand dramatically. "Ladies and gentlemen… It's time for the victory dance."
"Are you serious?" Evaline raised a brow, already moving her plate aside.
"In honor of my beautiful Cassie's first victory"
Cassandra was blushing and angry at the same time but Theo pulled her over.
Before Liam could even react, Serena had grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the center. "Up, prince. You owe me a stroll anyway."
"— I haven't recovered my mana," Liam muttered, dragging forward anyway.
"You'll survive."
They danced. Badly. Everyone danced. Laughing, twirling, bumping elbows. Even Elaine joined — begrudgingly — before surrendering to the joy of it. It was chaos. Beautiful, loud, chaotic joy.
Eventually, Liam, dizzy and too weak to protest further, collapsed into a chair. Serena handed him a plate — with cheesecake.
"You're eating this," she declared.
"I thought you said —"
"Shut up and eat."
Liam took the fork with a groan and a smile. The room swirled with voices and light, and for the first time since the match—since the plan—he let himself rest.
The Demo Room dimmed slowly as the lights were put off one by one. The last notes of the EchoVault's song dissolved into silence. Around the now-empty plates and overturned chairs, laughter had dwindled into yawns.
They were exhausted — utterly drained.
Cassandra, sitting by the table with the scroll still tucked in her satchel, gave it a tired glance. She barely had the strength to lift her hand.
"I'll look at it tomorrow," she mumbled. "My brain's jelly."
One by one, they all started leaving.
"See you in the morning."
"Don't forget breakfast — Elaine's buying."
"Lies!"
"Shut up, Theo."
More waves, playful salutes, and door creaks later, the room finally emptied.
Only Cassandra remained, sitting quietly as if soaking in the final remnants of a storm.
Liam stood at the entrance, leaning slightly on the doorframe. He didn't leave. His shadow fell over her as she rose.
She walked toward him, and for a moment, neither spoke.
But when she reached the doorway, Liam stepped aside, then turned, walking beside her a few paces before stopping.
He was thinking. She could tell. That face — the one with too many unsaid thoughts sitting behind his eyes.
Finally, he spoke.
"Sister," he said quietly. "About the match… I have to tell you something."
Cassandra halted. She didn't look at him, but her posture shifted.
"Let's talk tomorrow, Liam," she said, weariness in her voice. "I'm too tired tonight."
But Liam didn't move.
"We're not playing the next match," he said.
Her eyes slowly widened, the words taking a moment to register.
"What?"
He looked at her directly, voice steady but quiet.
"We're forfeiting."
Cassandra turned fully to him now, disbelief plain in her face.