Chapter 13: The Kingly Awareness

It was nighttime, around 8 p.m., and the air carried a biting chill that could pierce through to the bone. Inside the modest hut, Lola, Conrad Stan, and Josh Aratat huddled around a flickering flame, whose warmth was their only reprieve against the freezing breeze.

Despite the fire's comfort, the hut itself was a poor shield against the cold; the crude clay-mud walls had gaps through which the wind slipped in, making their sanctuary only marginally better than being outside.

The three warriors sat in reflective silence, the crackle of the fire filling the space between them. Lola and Conrad had recently ascended to a new rank in their martial journey, both achieving the rank of Lieutenants, with Lola taking the path of the assassin maid, albeit it falls within the same level.

The surge of strength they now wielded filled them with a new determination and also anticipation. Their ultimate goal was clear: to stand as stronger allies to Prince Josh Aratat in the conflicts to come and in the war that loomed over the horizon.

Josh, meanwhile, had just crafted a crude mask. He took his time in adjusting the poorly crafted veil he had fashioned from scraps of metal and cloth.

The metal was bent like a clamp to curve around his head, and serve as a makeshift frame, while the cloth tied securely over his face which left only two small holes for breathing.

It was rudimentary at best—functional but far from ideal. The weight of the metal pressed lightly against his head, the lightness of the metal on his head was owed to his new rank of Major 1 which rendered it barely noticeable.

He considered just how heavy and unbearable this contraption would have been if he was just a powerless mortal. That doesn't mean it was all that comfortable though. For now, he would endure it until a more suitable mask could be crafted.

The flames danced between them, casting shifting shadows on their faces. Lola's gaze drifted to Josh, her brown eyes softening as they lingered on him. Her heart fluttered with emotions she tried to suppress. Every time she looked at him, a deep, unshakable feeling surged within her—a fierce, almost all-consuming devotion. She knew, without a doubt, that she would bury the world for Josh if it ever came to that.

What Lola didn't realize was that her feelings didn't go unnoticed by Josh. Thanks to the kingly system, Josh was acutely aware of her emotions. Yet he chose to feign ignorance, letting things lie. The mission was way more important than the feelings of the present, and if it was not prioritized, the distraction of romantic entanglements could bear unintended risks which he wasn't willing to take. Besides, he just needs to be strong enough to have whatever he wanted.

"What?" Josh's voice broke through her trance, his sharp eyes catching her lingering stare.

"Nothing..." Lola quickly looked away, her cheeks blooming crimson with embarrassment. She pulled her scarf higher, trying to hide her blush. In the glow of the fire, her flustered state made her look endearingly vulnerable.

Conrad, sensing the awkwardness in the air, cleared his throat loudly. "Hmmmm." His attempt to cut through the tension was deliberate, but his gaze shifted to Lola, his curiosity piqued.

He had started to notice the subtle changes in her demeanor around Josh—the lingering glances, the nervous energy. Still, he could only attribute it to her unwavering loyalty, not realizing the depth of what lay beneath.

The fire crackled again, the wood splintering softly as if echoing the emotions left unspoken. Outside, the wind howled against the frail hut, but inside, the warmth of purpose—and perhaps something more—kept them anchored.

"We'll need more manpower if we're to stand against the others," Conrad Stan said, his voice firm with conviction.

Josh, however, wasn't listening. Through his kingly awareness, he sensed it—Jerusha had awakened. Rather than being weakened or peaceful, the air around her bristled with malice, a sinister energy that set every nerve in his body on edge. He tensed instinctively, readying himself for what was to come. Yet he couldn't risk alarming his companions. The enemy was in the room, and any overt warning might tip her off.

He cursed himself silently. Bringing the tiger into their den had been a mistake, one that could cost them dearly. He should have left her where she was.

"We just need to stay the course. Things will work out eventually," Josh said, his tone calm but distant, his eyes deliberately avoiding Jerusha. Despite his outward composure, his focus was entirely on her, tracking her every subtle shift through the active kingly awareness, of his kingly system.

Lola, ever observant, tilted her head and studied him. "Is something wrong? You look... tense," she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Josh forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil beneath. "It's nothing," he replied smoothly. "The meal earlier was just... too delicious. I think I'm still feeling the effects."

The words were lighthearted, but they served a double purpose. On the surface, they deflected Lola's concern, but underneath, they were a calculated move to keep Jerusha unaware that she'd been discovered.

Conrad and Lola, however, heard more than the words themselves. Their bond of loyalty to Josh—deepened through their shared struggles—allowing them to pick up the unspoken message. Beneath the prince's casual tone, Conrad and Lola discerned a silent warning: Be alert. Something is off.

The realization hit them both like a jolt, and their senses sharpened in response. They both didn't fully understand what Josh had detected, but the urgency in their master's subtle cue was enough to set them both on edge.

Then, in an instant, the tension in the room snapped.

Jerusha, still half-naked and disheveled from her supposed recuperation, sprang from the bed with predatory speed. Her eyes burned with deadly intent as she seized a dagger that had been lying within arm's reach. Without hesitation, she hurled it directly at Lola, aiming for her throat with lethal precision.

She had observed that none of them were armed and spotted the dagger she had brought with her lying conveniently within reach. Her plan was straightforward and brutal—eliminate one of them swiftly, dress herself, and flee before they could react.

It might have worked if not for Josh Aratat's kingly awareness. Jerusha had severely underestimated the strength and vigilance of the people she was up against.

The moment the dagger left her hand, slicing through the air with deadly intent, a bronze staff materialized as if summoned by sheer will. Josh moved with lightning speed, thrusting the bronze kingly staff forward to intercept the blade.

The clash of metal rang out sharply, the dagger deflected mere inches from Lola's throat. The force of the impact sent the weapon spinning harmlessly to the ground.

Had Josh been even a fraction of a second slower, Lola's life would have ended in that moment.

Lola instinctively touched her neck, she was sweating profusely, despite the cold, reminding her of just how close to death she had come.