Erik stopped just a few inches behind Emma as she halted before a massive oak door.
The intricate carvings on the wood hinted at the importance the room held.
Emma turned to him with a serious expression. "Captain Lain is waiting for you inside, but I don't think she will be alone. And I can't co with you."
Erik looked at the woman for a second.
"Who do you think will be inside?" The young man asked.
"I think you might know that already."
Tom Van Dyke. It was likely that the Red Palace's principal wanted to see with his own eyes who Erik Romano was and what he was capable of. If Erik were in the man's shoes, he would have done the sa.
Erik nodded. "All right..."
He gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you for everything, Emma."
"Don't worry about it," she said. "Now, go. They're waiting for you."
Erik took a deep breath and placed his hand on the doorknob.
Opening the door, Erik stepped into the room. The first person he saw was Captain Lain, standing in front of him with two other people at her side. Truth be told, she was a little bit behind the other two people.
At her imdiate right was Major Fischer, who was grinning ear to ear as he looked at Erik. The two beca friends during the months in which Erik helped the resistance set foot within the city and basically created the resistance.
There was also a third person in the room, a man that Erik recognized: Tom Van Dyke, the 81- year-old Red Palace principal. He was right in assuming the old man was going to be here.
Erik had only t him once before, when the Blirdoth attacked, and he left an impression. His brain crystal power was insanely strong.
This man was a legend within the city walls and beyond. Becker and the Fierce Lioness wouldn't hold a candle to him if he were as strong as when he was in his pri.
His powers were terrifying, and his prowess was even more scary than his brain-crystal power. His fighting technique was nearly perfect; many said it was flawless, and maybe they were right.
His battle acun was also high, and he had a great mind.
And yet, he needed the Fierce Lioness' help to kill the Blirdoth. However, no one would have said that was because of weakness; it was because of age. Against that, strength and power could do nothing.
Erik stood frozen for a mont, but was not surprised at the sight a bit.
Major Fischer broke the silence. "Erik, welco."
His voice was strong and clear, clearly belonging to a man who spent his life in the military. "Sorry for coming at such short notice."
"That's not a problem at all." Fischer said. The man then smiled as if he had just seen his kid.
"Emma should have told you the reason I ca here."
"She did," Captain Lain said. "We didn't expect you to co back so soon, though. We thought that finding Shade was going to be a lot harder than you made it look."
Erik smiled. "It wasn't easy by any ans. I had to ask for the Fierce Lioness's help to find the guy. Damn, for her help, she asked to marry her daughter!"
Erik knew that was not the Fierce Lioness's real intention, but he said it to make it look like even the most powerful woman on the planet wanted ties to him. Fischer and Lain already knew how powerful and valuable he was, but Van Dyke didn't. It was his duty to make the man understand that.
The Red Palace's principal knew Erik had been a mber of his institution, but he left after a short while.
Back then, Erik didn't amount to much compared to the giants Van Dyke and the Red Palace's teachers were or how strong the upper-ranked students were.
Besides, despite him not being weak, the teachers said he didn't have technique and that he entered the Red Palace just because he was strangely stronger than people his age and level. That was not a lie. Erik had no formal training prior to his assignnt to Master Nieminen. She was the one who taught him a proper technique.
Even when he beca a top student at school, he learned sothing comparable to what the sword master taught him.
This ant Van Dyke underestimated Erik. Fischer and Lain must have told him Becker now worked for him.
They must have told him he was responsible for the destruction of the Crystal Cross gang, that he was the one who freed them from prison, and that he was the reason the resistance could exist.
The problem was that Van Dyke was still one of the elite. Even if they were under Becker on paper, it didn't an they did what he said.
There were a lot of things at play: power, money, status, and knowledge. They had a lot of those things in the Red Palace, which made them arrogant.
Most of the wealthy people in the city belonged to ancient families and had deep roots in Frant. They were used to doing things their own way, and they would not take orders from an upstart like Erik.
But it was also true that the old principal was smart; he couldn't be otherwise since he created the most renowned training place within the entire nation, a place whose talents even the Blackguards wanted to snatch away.
But that also ant Erik was a valuable asset, one he knew he had to keep close, or better yet, leashed.
Leashed—that was the right word for a wild card like Erik, especially if he was as strong as Lain and Fischer said.
He didn't believe what the others said about what Erik was capable of. For sure, he didn't trust him, and frankly speaking, the tales about him seed far-fetched.
Erik stood before the Red Palace's principal, recognizing the legendary man's distrustful gaze. Van Dyke turned towards Erik and spoke.
"Greetings, young man. I've heard quite a bit about you." Van Dyke's tone was formal but
guarded, and there was a hint of suspicion within it.
"You've certainly made quite an impact in just three years."
Erik nodded. "Good morning, sir. I'm honored to et you again."
"Oh? When did we et?"
Naturally, Van Dyke was aware of Erik's identity; during Becker's tenure as general, he assigned the elderly man to monitor Erik and provide updates on his advancents. He also knew how fast Erik was ascending the Red Palace's ranks; it caused quite a stir back then, after
all.
Erik paused for a second. "It was when the Blirdoth attacked around here, sir. You ca to the rescue of a group of students, and I was one of them."
Van Dyke studied Erik for a mont. The young man was certainly athletic, had a fierce look, and seed smart. Yet, what he heard about him seed far from what he was seeing.
Fischer and Lain, on the other hand, told him he had multiple powers. Of course, the Blackguards, or Volkov, didn't disclose that information to the public, but since Erik stopped caring, he made the resistance aware of it at a certain point.
"Fischer and Lain speak highly of you. They believe you'll be a powerful ally in our battle against the dictator, Volkov."
The man paused. "But to be honest, I'm not sure that a single person will be able to help us. You see... Even if Fischer and Lain talk highly of you, I struggle to believe that you alone did everything they said. I think most of it is fake, a simple lie to push to accept your request
for help."
Erik sighed. "Sorry for being impolite, sir, but you understood nothing. I didn't co here to ask for your help. I ca here to offer mine."
Erik said it without batting an eye. It might have looked arrogant for him to say sothing like that to a living old legend. Yet Erik knew this guy, and the elite in general, needed to have
fear.
It wasn't because of loyalty that they obeyed Becker, but because of fear. The general was too strong, and his army was strong enough to give him ti to kill most of the Red Palace's higher-ups if sothing went wrong.
There were other factors, primarily interests, at play. Becker gave a lot of money to Van Dyke; after all, he needed to create sothing that would produce people he could use to fight the
blackguards.
He chose to use the elite and not common people, who would be much more loyal to him than those pompous rich guys, only because their wealth would make it simple for them to get
stronger.
It worked, because in not a lot of ti, the Red Palace beca an even bigger institution than
it previously was.
That reply shocked Van Dyke, but not Lain and Fischer. The latter was smiling like an idiot. It looked like he was worried about nothing.
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