The trio took turns keeping watch through the night, but the morning came quietly. As they waited for the days events, each of them readied their equipment for a battle. It was hardly practical to cart a sword and hammer around with him, so he opted for the sword. While ol’reliable would have been his top choice, it was in need of repair after the months of battle, and it wouldn’t do to have a broken weapon in a heated battle. A light knock drew their attention, and Noah opened the door to the Delia. She smiled brightly.

  “Good morning, your grace. Are you ready for the audience with the king?” She asked.

  “I am. Is there anything I should know?” Noah inquired. She seemed to think about it for a moment but ultimately shook her head.

  “If you weren’t a sovereign yourself, I would discuss etiquette, but I suppose that won’t be necessary for you.” She commented. Noah nodded and followed her as she led the way toward the throne room. It appeared that they would be going with the first plan. As they walked down the corridor, Noah expanded his domain to the limit, taking in the bare halls and empty rooms just on the other side of the adjoining walls. It was far different than what he had anticipated when he considered visiting the elves. He had been sure that the architecture and decoration would be stunning, and in a way, it was to the normal eye. But it was nothing more than a mirage, a grand delusion. They turned a corner and approached an unassuming pair of doors, where two guards stood at attention with weapons at the ready. They came to a halt a few paces before the entryway, and the guards simultaneously grabbed the handles and opened the doors before them.

  Delia stepped forward and Noah followed suit, flinching as a sickly sweet smell assaulted his nose. His domain assured him that there was no such smell present in the room, but he found it hard to fully deny the powerful illusion. All of the illusions in this room carried a greater presence than the ones just outside, and as his domain stretched forward he found his vision flickering occasionally between the false and the real. In front of him, sat upon a throne, was Balkendar. His eyes saw the very same elf that he had met by the stream all that time ago, but his domain showed a very different visage. The elves’ pleasant features had been traded in for old, withered flesh with hollow cheeks and eyes as black as night. Noah frowned. How? That shouldn’t be possible, he had met the elf only days after the initialization. He had no trouble believing that they had developed illusion magic over the nearly two years they had been here, but from day one? There was no way. Unless… Noah replayed their first conversation to the best of his ability. Wait. He had known things, talking about Grade as if it had always been part of their lives. What if they already had magic? All of this raced through his mind as he approached the decrepit elf on the completely normal chair.

  “Noah. We meet again. How… Interesting.” Balkendar started. Noah heard his voice like an echo, both sing-song and raspy. The effect was so disorienting that he was tempted to cancel his domain altogether and just accept the illusion. He knew he couldn’t afford that choice, so instead he braced himself for the ensuing headache.

  “Balkendar, I’m glad to see you’re still alive and well.” Noah responded, putting on his most convincing smile. It must not have fooled the illusion master though as his real face contorted with narrowed eyes and barred teeth. It was all Noah could do to keep himself from grimacing in repulsion. The illusory king continued on, however.

  “Thank you for answering my call for this meeting. I was quite surprised to hear that another sovereign was visiting my territory. I suppose it is only fitting that it would be you.” Balkendar said. Noah bowed in jest.

  “You honor me,” He smiled. “May I ask what it was you wished to discuss?” The king’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “Depending on the sovereign’s identity, I was going to offer a path toward mutual existence or perhaps a merger. This territory is hardly rich enough for one kingdom as it is.” Balkendar confessed. Noah nodded.

  “I couldn’t agree more. And now that you know my identity?” Noah replied.

  “That depends… Where is your territory?” Balkendar questioned. Noah tilted his head, he had half-expected the elf to know.

  “Beyond the mountain in the lower plains.” He answered.

  “The lowered plains? Do you mean in the icy tundra?” The king questioned. Noah shook his head. Is that the furthest he’s gone?

  “The icy tundra is still part of the mountain. It would take a couple months to return to my territory from here, and that is moving at my pace.” Noah explained.

  “I see. You don’t appear to be lying, though I can’t imagine how you made it past the beast swarms. Are they not worse the higher you go? My scouts rarely return from the cold unscathed,” he commented. Beneath the mask, Noah could see the disbelief in the elf’s expression. It was almost like he really couldn’t believe Noah’s claim. It didn’t make sense though, the king had the third highest level on their leaderboard. Noah narrowed his eyes intently at the elf.

  “What game are you playing?” He asked. The elf frowned in confusion, the illusion matching the reality for the first time since he had entered the room.

  “What do you mean, game?” Balkendar replied. It was Noah’s turn to be confused. Was he wrong?

  “I know your level and your Caste, Balkendar. You shouldn’t have any trouble with the beasts. So why are you acting like they would give you pause?” Noah questioned. The elf looked like he had been slapped, his real face going through expressions of shock, rage, and hatred.

  “You know nothing!” He screamed. Noah felt the guards tense by the door, and Delia took a step back. He, however, continued smiling at the raving king.

  “How did you manage to level if you are so afraid to leave your castle?” Noah asked, realizing the issue with his assumption. Balkendar’s face turned red as he glared down at Noah. The illusion of the king presented a slightly more controlled image of rage, but it was far from reality. Suddenly, the fiery anger turned to laughter as a wicked grin crept onto the king’s face.

  “Ah. Now I understand. So naive, from the first day you were as gullible as a child. Then when Delia examined you in the forest all those months ago, you were clueless! Even now, you struggle with the most basic laws of our new world! If I am correct, then judging by the sword on your back, you chose to be a warrior, followed by some further melee specialty. Which means you gain XP when you fight. Did you ever stop to think that others don’t benefit from fighting? Or did you fail to realize that you weren’t rewarded XP for pulling that cart into the capital? We all have our place in this world, and mine is not on the battlefield!” The king’s voice had ranged from mocking and scorn to defensive anger once again.

  Noah wasn’t sure what to make of Balkendar’s speech, especially the bit about Delia; as far as he knew, he had never seen her before a couple days prior. As he replayed the words through his mind, one detail stuck out more than the rest. He smiled. The king was not a fighter. Judging by the weak appearance of his body, he had thrown the large majority of his stats into the magic-oriented ones. And if his hunch was right, his specialty was illusion, something almost entirely negated by domain. To Noah, this all communicated one thing. He could end the tyranny with a single blow.

  The king seemed to notice that Noah hadn’t responded to his tirade, and one his eyes had started to twitch from the persistent glare that he leveled Noah’s way. Ever the gentleman, Noah saved him from further suffering and cleared his throat.

  “All of that aside, I accepted your invitation because I had a message to give you.” Noah stated. The king cocked his head.

  “And what message is that?” He asked.

  “Release my people or die.”