"Intruder, halt! Identify yourself this instant, or your next breath shall be your last!"
"Huh?!"
Elijah froze.
A deep voice boomed behind him, reverberating through the grand hallway. His heart pounded violently against his ribs as his eyes darted around, desperately trying to make sense of his predicament.
A high ceiling loomed above, adorned with massive chandeliers. Stone walls stretched endlessly, draped in rich tapestries, their embroidered figures flickering under the warm glow of torches. The scent of wax and aged stone clung to the air.
A castle? Impossible.
Just moments ago, he had been in his bedroom—a far cry from this medieval grandeur—heading to bed.
Lucid dreaming?
Before he could test the theory with a pinch, cold steel pressed against his throat. A sharp sting followed, and a few drops of blood splattered onto the plush carpet beneath him.
"I won't repeat myself," the voice growled, low and dangerous. "Not striking you down at first glance was mercy enough. My patience has limits."
Elijah's pulse roared in his ears. His breath hitched, his chest tightened, and panic seized him. Words spilled from his lips before he could think.
"I—I'm lost."
Another voice spoke up, calmer yet no less authoritative.
"Rohan, that's enough. Is that any way to treat a guest?"
The man holding the blade—Rohan—grunted. "A guest? Young lord, an unidentified person appearing in a restricted area? He could be a spy. With everything happening, we can't risk certain information getting leaked."
The young lord sighed. "I'm well aware. Nonetheless, I'll vouch for him. There's a chance he could be one of the experts. That potential alone is worth the risk."
A shaky sigh of relief escaped Elijah's lips.
"Escort him to the gathering with the others."
But before that relief could settle, the next words sent his stomach plummeting.
"However, if he turns out to be unrelated… execution is the only viable option. After we get information out of him, of course."
Rohan chuckled darkly. "Your wisdom never ceases to amaze me, young lord. Fine by me."
The spear withdrew from Elijah's neck—though he had no doubt they'd be reacquainted soon—unless he somehow proved himself to be a so-called expert.
He couldn't. He wasn't.
"Turn around and move," Rohan commanded.
Elijah obeyed, slowly pivoting to face his captors.
The older man—Rohan—was clad in armor, his auburn hair streaked with hints of gray, a full beard framing his stern face.
The other was much younger—fifteen years old at most. His shoulder-length golden hair swayed gently with the occasional draft, his expression unreadable.
"Hello, stranger. Calvin Richmond—the third prince of the Richmond Kingdom—greets thee. Who might you be?"
Elijah hesitated for a split second before responding.
"Elijah. It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I'm the long-sought expert."
A heartbeat passed. Then another.
Despite the short silence, Elijah had already cycled through a myriad of solutions—and every road led to one answer. Bluffing.
'Even if this is just a dream, I'm still scared to die. The realism is uncanny.'
Calvin's unreadable expression shifted. He was… amused. A charming smile forced its way to his lips.
Rohan, on the other hand, scoffed. "Tch."
"The Richmond Kingdom certainly hopes you are," Calvin said, his voice smooth. "If so, it would mean prosperity for both you and our people."
Elijah subtly smirked.
"Apologies, my lord. I was hoping you could give me some perspective on the bigger picture. I believe I have an adequate understanding, but your wisdom might provide insights I've yet to grasp."
Calvin let out a soft chuckle.
"Well, as you already know, in the past two years, the world has undergone tremendous changes. Plants and animals have mutated in unexplainable, unbelievable ways."
He paused before continuing.
"We all thought that was the extent of it. But as time passes, it's becoming clear… humans have changed too."
He gestured slightly. "That's where you come in. We need you—the expert on these changes—to provide insights. If we can maximize their usability, we won't be left behind."
His gaze sharpened.
"Kingdoms have already made breakthroughs, strengthening their armies. If we fail to do the same, we'll be crushed when war comes."
Calvin's smile widened. "Help us prosper, and you will be rewarded handsomely—which was the offer presented to all experts."
Without another word, the prince turned and started walking.
Elijah hesitated, but a sharp glance from Rohan told him all he needed to know. Follow.
Jolting into motion, he fell into step between his two escorts—eyes glued to Calvin's feet, his mind spiraling into chaos.
'What the hell am I gonna do?! What am I even doing right now?! How am I supposed to convince them I'm some expert on mutations?! I don't have the first clue!'
He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
'I need to relax. Think. Gather as much information as possible.'
Raising his head, he spoke.
"Your Highness, if I may… Based on what you know about the other kingdoms' breakthroughs, what is your vision for strengthening your army?"
Before Calvin could answer, Rohan's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Insolent. Don't push your luck, kid. You're in no position to interrogate the prince. One question was enough—you're making it painfully obvious you're gathering information. Spy."
A cold chill ran down Elijah's spine.
But Calvin only sighed.
"Relax, Rohan." He waved dismissively. "He's fishing for information, true—but he's testing our knowledge to gauge its extent. The more he knows, the more he can provide meaningful insights."
Rohan frowned.
"You seem awfully convinced he's an expert, young lord."
"And you seem awfully convinced he's a spy, Rohan."
"Of course I am. You, of all people, must be wondering how he ended up where we found him."
Calvin ignored him, turning back to Elijah.
"To be honest, we know very little of the other kingdoms' advancements—except for one thing. They're capable of performing impossible feats."
"Impossible feats…" Elijah echoed, mind racing.
Calvin took a short pause before continuing.
"As for your question… I'm merely a child. That's something for the man in charge to decide. And I'm about to introduce you to him."
Barely finishing his sentence, they arrived at a grand hall.
It was vast and awe-inspiring, its ceiling towering even higher than those of the passageways. At the center of it all: a magnificent golden throne, reflecting the torchlight that bathed the room in a warm glow.
Elijah's gaze swept over the gathered crowd—faces heavy with disappointment. Yet none appeared more dissatisfied than the man sitting atop the golden throne, his piercing eyes locked onto Elijah.
The simplest way to describe him? A grown-up, knightly version of Calvin. He had the prince's unreadable temperament but radiated an unyielding authority that dwarfed Rohan's.
His voice thundered through the chamber.
"Is that the last of them?"
Rohan's grating voice sounded almost pleasant in comparison. "No, Father," Calvin replied. "This is Elijah. He's the last of them."
The king studied him for a long, heavy moment.
Then, he spoke.
"Well, Elijah. I hope you're ready. Prove yourself to be one of these so-called experts, though I must warn you—my time has been wasted enough already."
His gaze sharpened, cutting Elijah to his core.
"If you know you aren't, walk away now. Otherwise…"
Elijah's breath caught in his throat.
"Perform a feat never before seen."
And then, the words that made his stomach drop.
"Show me something impossible—or die."
The terror Elijah felt as the words sunk in washed away any pretense he had of this being just a dream.