A year had passed, and depending on who one was or what they sought, such a span could feel like an instant or an eternity. For those who stood at the heights of the world, wielding strength that could shake nations, a year was scarcely more than a brief season, a time to amass resources, sharpen their arts, and prepare for the inevitable clashes that power always brought.

For the ordinary man, whose lifetime barely stretched beyond a century, often less, a year was heavy with uncertainty, a measure of time long enough for fear to take root and grow.

For Jacob, it had been neither long nor short, but something in between. The days had been filled with study and practice, divided between unraveling the techniques Lazarus had left him and the rare opportunities to learn directly from the man himself, and in that cycle there was seldom room for rest or stillness. Yet today, by chance, was one of those rare moments of quiet.

He sat alone at the back of a modest restaurant, a place without grandeur but with food that was warm, savoury, and carefully made. The plate before him was not large, yet each bite carried a comfort he had not realized he missed.

Lazarus was occupied elsewhere, and Jacob had long since reached the ceiling of what could be wrung from the technique at his disposal, standing now at the very threshold of rank ten, waiting for the elusive push that would lift him beyond it.

It was as he dug into his meal, unhurried and thoughtful, that a familiar voice stirred in the back of his mind, a voice that he had not heard in so long yet could never truly forget: arrogant in cadence, playful in tone, but always carrying an undercurrent of something older and heavier. "Oh, you've changed quite a bit in a single year, haven't you?"

Jacob did not look up, nor did his hands falter. He kept eating, his expression calm, but a small smile betrayed the recognition, and the way his grip on the cutlery tightened ever so slightly was proof enough of his reaction. "Took you long enough," he answered inwardly. "It's been a year. Where were you?"

Yggdrasil's response was a loud, careless laugh, rich with amusement. "Did you miss me? Don't trouble yourself, I only had to keep low for a while, see the sights, enjoy places far more interesting than your dreary little kingdom."

"No need to joke. Or lie," Jacob replied evenly. "You were punished. You told me something you weren't supposed to, didn't you?"

Yggdrasil, as though deliberately obtuse, let the words pass him by without acknowledgment, his silence saying more than any denial could. Jacob exhaled softly, conceding the point with little interest in pressing further. "Yes," he admitted after a pause, "I did miss you, in a way."

For once, Yggdrasil did not answer immediately, and the quiet between them was strangely heavy, as though even he did not know what words to choose.

Jacob filled the silence himself. "Do you know how hard it's been without you? Others have learned entire collections of runes, dozens upon dozens, while in all this time I managed only six true runes on my own."

"You actually learned them on your own?" Yggdrasil's voice rang with rare surprise, so much so that Jacob could not help but chuckle as he raised his cup and took a slow sip of tea. "You said it yourself, runes are nothing more than imperfect reflections of true runes. All I had to do was study, correct, and refine. Trial and error, again and again, until I arrived at something closer to the real thing."

"Because of how long it all takes, my magic has had to sit on the sidelines," he continued after setting the cup down, his tone more reflective now. "Most of my time was spent on theory and learning, and I've only pushed my swordsmanship far enough to make myself passable."

"Well, at least you managed to get rid of that twig-like body of yours," Yggdrasil teased, and though Jacob tried to keep his composure, a smile crept across his face regardless. It was true: over the course of the year he had not neglected his physical training. He would never reach Arthur's level, but his body was no longer the fragile, underfed thing it had once been, and that small progress brought him a quiet sense of pride.

Finishing the last of his meal, Jacob pushed the plate away and stood, dropping a few coins neatly onto the table before stepping outside to where a carriage waited. He climbed in, settled himself by the window, and as the driver urged the horses forward, Jacob leaned slightly to one side, watching the passing buildings with a distant expression, his fingers drumming idly on the wooden frame.

"Some things have changed," he thought aloud, though his tone was too quiet for anyone outside his own mind to hear. Yggdrasil, sensing more behind the words, held his silence, waiting for Jacob to continue, but Jacob offered nothing more, letting the quiet stretch comfortably between them.

Nearly an hour passed before the carriage rolled to a stop in front of a building small in size but crafted with exquisite care, its facade dignified without being ostentatious. Jacob stepped down at once, his stride brisk, and the guards at the entrance lowered their heads respectfully.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Greetings, Sir Jacob Skydrid," they said in unison, and one guard, raising his head, added, "She arrived only a few minutes ago."

Jacob gave a curt nod and moved forward, one of the guards falling into step at his side. Inside, the building was just as refined as its exterior suggested, white walls lined with paintings, polished floors softened by expensive rugs, and neatly tended plants placed with deliberate care. The foyer was alive with quiet activity, servants moving quickly yet without clamor.

The guard leaned close enough for only Jacob to hear. "She chose the garden outside today."

"Security?" Jacob asked in a low voice.

"She brought ten of her own men. We've already checked the grounds and cleared out anyone nearby."

Jacob nodded again, his expression calm, and continued through the hall. The way he moved made it clear this was no unfamiliar place to him, and though a guard shadowed his steps, it was Jacob himself who carried the air of confidence and poise, his bearing no longer that of the boy who had once shut himself away in his room but of someone who now moved with the ease and grace of a noble accustomed to such settings.

"Yggdrasil," he murmured inwardly as his eyes lingered briefly on the paintings they passed, "you never told me that my enhanced mind would affect my emotions, or did you not know?"

"For a time I thought I had misjudged," Yggdrasil admitted after a thoughtful pause. "It seems I was not mistaken after all."

"Well, it's like a tap," Jacob replied. "I can turn them on and off when I choose. It's… convenient, and I needed that control often this past year. Of course, what I'm doing today doesn't really call for it."

"And what exactly might that be?" Yggdrasil asked, curiosity sharpening the edges of his tone.

Jacob's expression softened into a small smile as he arrived before a tall glass door; with a gentle push it opened, and before him stretched a carefully tended garden, the sort of place where every tree and bush seemed arranged with intent, a place of deliberate beauty filled with flowering shrubs and neat rows of greenery, and at its heart stood a simple table where, already seated, was the familiar figure of a young woman with golden hair that shimmered faintly in the sunlight and sharp green eyes that followed his every step.

"I have come to an agreement with the princess," he thought as he stepped inside.

The moment he crossed into the garden Leah turned her head, her gaze finding him with quiet precision. Jacob walked forward in a measured manner, his movements calm and unhurried, until at last he reached her side and bent slightly in a bow. "Jacob Skydrid greets the princess," he said evenly, and after the formal words he seated himself across from her with a composure that came naturally now.

"Would you like anything?" Leah asked almost immediately, her voice steady, her tone neither too warm nor cold. "Tea, cakes, whatever you prefer, they can bring it at once."

Jacob shook his head faintly. "No, I just finished eating. What I want is to know why you asked me here in the first place. You cannot possibly be done with what I requested of you, and I distinctly remember saying that I would not lend my hand until you were."

He leaned back slightly in his chair, allowing his gaze to wander over the broad stretch of garden, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he remarked, "Ten guards, yet I cannot sense even a trace of one. They're well-trained."

"Trusted men," Leah replied, her words clipped but confident. Then, before he could answer further, she lifted one finger in a small gesture of interruption. "Anyway, I summoned you because I need a favor. And before you refuse, you should know this, Abel ascended to rank nine today. They say it is a new record, the fastest anyone has ever reached it."

Jacob fell quiet, lost in thought for several long moments, his eyes lowering slightly as if he were weighing more than her words, until at last he spoke in an even tone. "So you are finally ready to provide it? You've delayed for months, otherwise that record might have belonged to me."

"If it mattered so much, you could have gone to your father," she countered without hesitation. "But yes, I will give it to you. Only—" her green eyes sharpened as she held his gaze, "—I need your help with something first."

Jacob inclined his head, prompting her to go on, and Leah obliged without hesitation: "I assume you're aware of the friendly sparring arranged with the Northerners."

"Of course I am, but I'm not taking part," he answered.

Leah replied slowly, as if weighing how much to reveal, "one of the people they're sending already pledged loyalty to Samuel long ago, she came with her father some years ago."

"Her father?" Jacob repeated, the question more reflex than curiosity.

"I won't say his name for now, but he's a rank-zero mage, and he isn't human." The words shaded Jacob's features.

He replied quickly, "she pledged herself, not her father."

Leah exhaled, and the next fact came out in a quiet half-sentence: "She's a giant."

"Fuck," Jacob swore under his breath, eyes dropping to the table as he let the news settle.

"You want me to kill her during the spar?" he asked after a moment, the bluntness of the question matching the situation.

"Deaths aren't allowed," Leah said without hesitation, "but if you wound her badly enough she'll be beyond help before anyone can heal her."

"And who takes the blame?" he pressed.

"You don't need to know that," she replied, closed off.

Jacob fell silent again, staring at the carved wood between them, then asked, "How long have you known about the duel and that she'd be there?"

"Less than a year," she said.

"So that's why you stalled on what I needed to ascend these past months," he said, putting the pieces together, "she must be rank ten."

"She is; she's at the peak of rank ten, and she plans to ascend after the spars," Leah confirmed.

"Should I ask how you know that?" he prompted.

"No," she answered flatly.

Jacob stood then, the decision settling into his posture. "If I do this, if I put her out of commission like you described, you'll give me what I need to ascend, you'll grant me access to the palace mana chambers, and you'll follow through on what I previously asked."

"You have my word," Leah said, stretching out her hand. Jacob took it and they shook; when they released he leaned forward so their faces were only a few feet apart and fixed her with a steady look. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't use me like this again."

Leah's smile was almost casual as he stepped back and started to leave: "I would, but what am I supposed to do? You're just too easy to use."

Jacob didn't answer as he walked out of the garden; instead, the only thing that followed him was the restless voice in his head, firing off question after question so quickly that it gave him no time to think.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.