The man's eyes skimd over the note once more, then
CRACKLE!
CRACKLE!
Blue sparks flared to life around the man, dancing wildly in the air Then, in a single, dizzying blink, the man was gone—vanished entirely, as though the very air had swallowed him whole.
The knight, oblivious to the spectacle, continued his steady march toward the gate, not even pausing for a mont. He was so close to the man when the event occurred, just a few paces away, but he felt nothing.
The sa went for the other caretakers of the garden. None of them had seen the man disappear. Their eyes remained fixed on their tasks as if nothing unusual had happened. But Ashok had witnessed everything because his focus was fixed on the man.
'Run! Sword Saint, Run! How can you not run? That ssage holds the very weakness of the Southern Duke, your current master? A piece of knowledge so devastating, it could topple the Duke from his throne if revealed.
I am sure the duke's face will hold quite an expression of disbelief when he reads about the weakness, he is hiding from the entire empire revealed to him in such a way. Alas! I will not be there to enjoy that reaction.' thought Ashok as he watched the knight's return.
As the knight finally returned to his position, a notification popped in front of Ashok's eyes
[Attention Level: Maximum]
[False Monarch]
Ashok stood still, watching the knights around him, their faces as unreadable as ever—bored, distant, lost in their own thoughts. There were few people nearby, nothing to explain why his Attention Level had suddenly spiked.
'The Duke must be watching from inside that mansion' Ashok thought, a slow, calculating smile creeping across his lips. 'The Sword Saint sure is fast as expected of the future Flash Sword. It hasn't been even a minute and they have already started to observe . They must be coming anyti soon.'
"Kid, that sweeper was saying he was not-" the knight started, but Ashok cut him off in his sharp commanding tone "Do you two believe in Future Prediction?"
Both the knights blinked in surprise, they were montarily thrown off by the sudden change of tone that felt more like an order than a question.
"What?" the knight asked, his voice unsure, his brow furrowing as he tried to process what the boy just said.
Ashok didn't repeat the question. Instead, he spoke with an eerie calmness "Let tell you what will happen in a few monts from now. First, the Space in any direction around will break, and then, two people will erge from it. One will be that bamboo hat from before. The second one will be soone... you two will be shocked to see"
The knights were having a hard ti understanding just what sort of bullshit the kid suddenly started spouting. But before either of them could respond, sothing shifted in the air.
It was subtle at first—a barely perceptible change in the atmosphere—but it was enough to make the knights stiffen. Their eyes darted to find the source of the change, instinctively assessing the surroundings for danger. The grip on their weapons tightened, fingers flexing around the hilts as their muscles tensed in preparation for a possible threat.
Then, the air cracked.
The space behind Ashok began to twist, and distort, as if reality itself were being torn apart. Ashok's grin grew wider as he watched the knights' faces, their confusion giving way to disbelief, then to sothing akin to fear.
"Since you must have guessed the cause," Ashok said smoothly, his tone calm but charged with an almost teasing edge, "it's about ti you two give a greeting."
As if on cue, the space behind him tore open. The air shimred, like the heat of a mirage distorting the world, and through the crack stepped an elderly man, his movents slow but deliberate, the one following him was the Sword Saint.
The knights imdiately snapped to attention, their training kicking in without hesitation. Their eyes widened, their expressions shifting from shock to imdiate recognition. Without a second thought, they quickly brought their feet together and lowered their heads in a deep bow, their bodies aligned with practiced precision.
"We greet the Head Butler!" they shouted in unison, their voices carrying the weight of respect, recognition, and a hint of awe.
The knights trembled as they bowed, sweat dripping down their faces, betraying their inner turmoil. They had never expected the Head Butler—of all people—to step out of the mansion.
The gravity of the mont hit them with full force. The Head Butler wasn't just another servant in the Duke's household. No, he was the very backbone of the Southern Duchy's operations, the one who ensured that everything functioned smoothly beneath the Duke's rule. He held more authority than anyone except the Duke himself.
Rumors swirled that if the Duke were ever to go out for work, the Head Butler could step in as the Acting Duke without question. His influence stretched far beyond the mansion's walls, reaching into every corner of the Duchy.
But there was more. The whispered rumors spoke of a far deeper relationship between the Duke and the Head Butler. The two were said to be more like friends than master and servant. And that ant one thing: the Head Butler was a man of imnse power, soone who would not act without cause.
It didn't take long for the knights to make the connection. The only event of any significance that had occurred since the start of the day, the only change—was the ssage Ashok had written to the Bamboo Hat. The knights cursed inwardly, berating themselves for not paying more attention to the ssage earlier.
Ashok remained facing the knights; he did not turn to look at the two behind him. The Head Butler spoke, his voice containing authority "You have been summoned by the—"
Ashok's interruption was swift and decisive, cutting off the Head Butler before he could even finish the summons. During the ti the trait was active, nobody stood above him—neither the King nor the Duke.
And while the Duke was indeed soone Ashok was about to et, that wasn't the sa as being summoned by him. Ashok held the upper hand at this mont, and there was no way he would respond to a summons from a re Head Butler with anything less than disdain.
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