The morning of Martius 26th arrived with a coolness that promised spring, but the air inside the Reingardt family's private carriage felt stifling in its silence.
Leihnbach van Reingardt gazed out the window, his clear blue eyes watching the landscape of Clockthon slowly recede into the distance. Factory towers spewed unhealthy smoke into the sky. This was the first day of their fourteen-day journey to the private island off the southern coast, near the border of the Zarovgard Republic. The road to the Sovereign's Gambit.
Across from him, Kirsthendarch, his friend and personal guard, was carefully wiping his longsword with an oiled cloth. Kirsthendarch was the opposite of Leihnbach. Where Leihnbach was slender and pale with long blond hair that made him look like a poet from a bygone era, Kirsthendarch was built solid through relentless training.
"Are you certain about this, Leihn?" Kirsthendarch finally broke the silence, his voice rough and low.
Leihnbach turned from the window, a faint, genuine smile forming on his lips. "About what, Kirst? This journey, or the game waiting for us at the end of it?"
"Both," Kirsthendarch answered, his eyes never leaving the blade. "Your father, the Grand Duke, is sending you into a pit of vipers. All the heirs from the Five Great Houses, the heads of the guilds, even agents from Fravikveidimadr and the Consortium will be there. They will all try to tear you apart."
"Perhaps they just want to be friends," Leihnbach said with that innocent tone that so often frustrated Kirsthendarch.
Kirsthendarch let out a harsh laugh. "Friends? Among them? Leihn, they befriend each other the way wolves befriend sheep. It is that simple. You are too kind for their games."
"Kindness is not weakness, Kirst. Sometimes, it is the shield no one expects." Leihnbach turned back to the window. Their carriage had left the industrial district and entered green countryside. Wide fields and small villages with thatched roofs drifted by slowly. The view calmed him.
"I know you have your Channel, Beatific Ruin," Kirsthendarch went on. "I know your power can calm storms and soothe anger. But that won't help you against political schemes or blades in the dark."
Leihnbach did not answer. He knew his friend was right. His power, at Order 9 Dolent, focused on empathy and emotional resonance. With Resonance, he could send out waves that calmed emotions around him. With Resonant Touch, he could absorb someone's suffering. And with Light Speech, he could trigger mass empathy, making enemies feel each other's pain until their will to fight faded. It was the power of a healer meant to bring peace, not the power of an Evolver in a brutal game for the throne.
"My father has his reasons," Leihnbach said at last. "He wants me to learn. Perhaps he also wants me to see the world outside our ivory tower. He once told me a ruler cannot govern through books alone. He must understand people too."
"And you will find the worst kinds of people on that island," Kirsthendarch growled.
The carriage rolled on. For several hours, they said nothing more. Leihnbach spent his time reading an old book on natural philosophy while Kirsthendarch continued sharpening and balancing his weapon.
By noon, they stopped in a small village to rest and feed the horses. The village was the classic image of Cledestine's countryside, with simple wooden houses, muddy roads, and an old tavern at its center.
When they stepped inside the tavern, every eye turned to them. Their fine clothes and Leihnbach's aristocratic presence instantly marked them as nobles. The farmers and woodcutters inside stared at them with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
"Two servings of meat stew and bread," Kirsthendarch said to the innkeeper, his deep voice making a few people flinch.
They sat at a table in the corner.
Their food arrived quickly. The stew was simple but rich in flavor, the meat tender and the vegetables fresh.
"At least food in the countryside is honest," Kirsthendarch commented as he tore into his bread.
Leihnbach only smiled and ate in silence. He watched the people around him. He saw a little girl staring at him with wide eyes and he smiled at her, making her blush and hide behind her mother. He saw an old man in the corner, drinking beer alone, his eyes tired from a hard life.
Suddenly, the tavern door burst open. Three large men stomped in. They wore battered leather armor and swords at their sides. Mercenaries, or perhaps bandits. They walked arrogantly, shoving aside anyone in their way.
Their leader, a man with a scar across his face, approached the innkeeper. "We want all your beer and hot food," he growled. "And we're not paying. For protection, you know how it goes."
The innkeeper, a thin man who looked terrified, could only nod helplessly.
Kirsthendarch set down his spoon, his hand drifting slowly toward his sword hilt. "The usual trouble," he muttered.
Leihnbach placed his hand over Kirsthendarch's. "Wait," he whispered. "Violence does not always have to be the first answer."
He stood and walked over to the mercenaries. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he greeted them, his voice calm and friendly. "You look tired after a long journey. Allow me to treat you to food and drink."
The leader looked him up and down with a mocking sneer. "Who are you, noble boy? Trying to buy friends?"
"I am simply someone who believes a full stomach makes for better conversation than an empty one," Leihnbach replied.
He placed several silver coins on the counter. "For their food and drink, and for everyone else in this tavern as well."
The mercenaries exchanged confused looks. The villagers stared in disbelief. Kirsthendarch sighed, thinking Leihnbach was far too naïve.
The leader laughed. "Alright then, noble boy. I'll take your offer." They sat down and started ordering loudly.
Leihnbach returned to his table. "See?" he said to Kirsthendarch. "No blood had to be spilled."
"You have only delayed the problem, Leihn. Now they will see you as an easy target."
"Maybe. Or maybe they will see me as someone different."
When they finished eating and were about to leave, the mercenary leader approached them.
"Thanks for the meal, noble boy," he said, his tone a little less harsh than before. "What's your name?"
"My name is Leihnbach."
The man nodded. "I'm Norm. If you ever need a hired sword up north, find me." He tossed a small medallion onto their table and left with his men.
Kirsthendarch picked up the medallion. It was the emblem of the Crimson Hounds, one of the region's most notorious mercenary groups. "You didn't just feed them, Leihn," he said in surprise. "You might have just opened a door to an alliance."
Leihnbach only smiled.
They continued their journey. By evening, the landscape began to change. The forests grew denser, the roads narrower and winding. They entered a hilly region with few signs of habitation.
That night, they stopped at an old inn deep in the woods. The inn was called The Great Pines. The place was quiet, with only the two of them and the innkeeper, an old man of few words.
After a simple dinner, they sat before the fireplace. Outside, the wind howled and wolves cried in the distance.
"Kirst," Leihnbach said suddenly, staring into the dancing flames, "have you ever wondered about the purpose of all this?"
"The purpose of what? Becoming strong? Staying alive?"
"More than that," said Leihnbach. "About this world. The nobles, the peasants, the Evolvers, the gods. Everything feels like part of a machine too vast to comprehend, yet no one knows who built it or why it runs."
Kirsthendarch looked at his friend. This was the side of Leihnbach he rarely saw, the philosopher who questioned everything. "You think too much, Leihn. Sometimes a sword is just a sword."
"But sometimes," Leihnbach replied, "a sword can be the symbol of an idea. And ideas can change the world."
He thought of a man he had met at the academy years ago. A man full of strange contradictions. Welt.
"I met someone in Clockthon," Leihnbach said quietly. "Someone who made me realize that the games nobles play at the Sovereign's Gambit are just children's games."
"Who?" Kirsthendarch asked, now fully intrigued.
"I do not know who he really is," Leihnbach answered. "But he made me see that there is another level of power far beyond what we know."
His mind drifted. He wondered what Welt Rothes was doing now. He did not know that at that very moment in Clockthon, Welt was preparing his own next move in a plan just as ambitious.
The two of them, from different corners of the world, with two very different paths of power, were both staring toward the same goal: the summit.
Leihnbach watched the fire. "Maybe my father is right. Maybe I do need to go to this Gambit. Not to win, but to learn and to observe the other players, to understand this machine from within."
"And if the machine tries to crush you?" Kirsthendarch asked.
Leihnbach smiled, his gentle smile now carrying a hint of sharpness. "Then I will use kindness as my weapon. I will absorb their suffering, calm their rage, make them feel each other's pain until they forget why they wanted to hate."
He activated his Channel. A soft wave of empathy spread from him, making the fire flicker more gently and the distant howls of wolves soften into something less threatening.
"I will show them," he whispered, "that there is another way to be strong."
Kirsthendarch watched him in silence. He did not fully understand. But he did know one thing: this journey would change his friend.
The naïve prince he had known was beginning to transform into something very different, perhaps far stronger and far more dangerous than any Evolver who relied on sword or sorcery.
He could only hope that as Leihnbach tried to change the world, the world would not change him first into something unrecognizable.