THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

"Behind you!" Litty called out, alerting David to a second attacker.

The warning came just as David felt a familiar internal shift—the prelude to a dimensional fracture. For a terrible moment, his vision split, reality fragmenting into overlapping versions of the same scene. The approaching bandit seemed to occupy three spaces simultaneously, each slightly out of sync with the others.

David gritted his teeth, forcing his focus back to a single point of reality through sheer will. The effort cost him precious reaction time, but Luna was already there, intercepting the attack with economical grace. Her counterattack was brutally efficient yet carefully measured to appear within human capability.

Nearby, Yue had produced several small vials from hidden pockets. Despite her childlike appearance, she moved with the confidence of a seasoned combatant, flinging the contents of one vial at an approaching group of bandits. The liquid erupted into a dense cloud of shimmering particles that clung to their skin and clothing, causing immediate discomfort and confusion.

"Mild irritant," she explained with a mischievous smile when Elara glanced her way. "Nothing lethal, merely... distracting."

The five of them worked in coordinated harmony, protecting their wagon while assisting the merchant guards in repelling the attack. David and Elara moved as if they had trained together for years, incorporating insights from their mock battle into an effective partnership. Luna maintained a protective perimeter around them all, while Yue and Litty combined alchemical tactics with precise strikes.

Throughout the skirmish, each carefully moderated their abilities—impressive enough to be effective, yet nothing that would raise questions among ordinary observers. Even so, several of the merchant guards cast wondering glances their way, clearly reassessing the unassuming travelers they had been escorting.

Within minutes, the bandits broke and fled, leaving their wounded behind. The caravan had survived with minimal casualties—a few injuries among the guards, but nothing life-threatening.

"Efficient work," Merchant Hassim acknowledged, approaching their group as the guards secured the perimeter. His assessing gaze suggested he was recalculating the value of his passengers. "You've had combat training."

"One doesn't travel these roads without basic self-defense skills," David replied smoothly. "Nothing special."

Hassim nodded, though his expression suggested he wasn't entirely convinced. "We'll reach the checkpoint by nightfall. The Imperial Guard maintains regular patrols beyond that point, so we shouldn't encounter further difficulties."

After he departed to oversee repairs to a damaged wagon, Litty moved closer to their group. "We should refine our cover identities before reaching the checkpoint," she suggested quietly. "Our combat abilities, restrained though they were, may have drawn more attention than intended."

"Agreed," David said. "Let's adjust our approach." He glanced at Elara. "You'll need to adopt mannerisms appropriate for a merchant's wife rather than a noble."

A flicker of distaste crossed Elara's features before she mastered it. "I'm capable of adapting," she stated, though her posture—regal despite her common clothing—suggested otherwise.

"Perhaps a demonstration?" Luna suggested, her tone neutral though her eyes held a hint of challenge.

What followed was an impromptu lesson in commoner behavior, with Yue and Litty providing guidance on everything from speech patterns to walking gait. Elara's initial stiffness gradually gave way to a more convincing portrayal, though the occasional aristocratic inflection still slipped through.

"Walk from your hips, not your shoulders," Luna instructed, demonstrating a relaxed stride that Elara attempted to mimic. "You move as if constantly balancing a book on your head."

"Less precise diction," Litty added. "Common folk use contractions and regional phrases."

"I'm—I am perfectly capable of—" Elara began, then caught herself with a frustrated sigh. "I'm perfectly capable of talkin' like regular folk," she amended, the forced accent so unnatural that David couldn't suppress a smile.

"Perhaps less dramatic," he suggested gently. "Just... relaxed rather than formal."

By the time the caravan resumed its journey, Elara had crafted a passable common persona, though maintaining it clearly required conscious effort on her part.

————————————————————————————————————

The afternoon sun hung low on the horizon when they caught their first glimpse of Valemir. From their vantage point atop a rolling hill, the imperial capital sprawled across the landscape like a sleeping giant—a vast expanse of spires, domes, and ancient walls that dwarfed every other city in the empire.

Even at this distance, the city's grandeur was apparent. The legendary White Towers gleamed in the fading light, their marble surfaces capturing the sunset's glow like beacons. Surrounding the central districts, concentric rings of buildings extended outward, each ring representing a different era of the city's expansion over the centuries.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Yue remarked, her voice uncharacteristically reverent. "No matter how many times I see it, Valemir always amazes me."

"The city of a thousand secrets," Litty added. "And a thousand dangers."

The caravan had paused to allow the travelers this first view—a tradition among merchants approaching the capital. Around them, other passengers expressed their wonder with exclamations and pointing fingers, many seeing the imperial seat for the first time.

"When we arrive, Litty and I will secure separate accommodations," Yue informed them. "Less attention that way, and I have contacts who can provide the materials we'll need."

"We'll establish a base in my resides ," David agreed. "Inconspicuous yet centrally located."

As the others discussed logistics, David's gaze remained fixed on the great city. Somewhere within that labyrinth of streets and buildings, the answers he sought awaited. The Eye of Ternion's knowledge, the means to repair his fractured system, perhaps even insights into the demon that had taken Count Nicalo's form.

He had seven months before he needed to present himself at the School of the Eternal Flame. Seven months to find what he needed in a city built upon millennia of secrets and schemes.

As the caravan began moving again, descending toward the capital and its sprawling outskirts, David felt a peculiar certainty settle over him. Valemir would either provide the solutions he desperately needed—or become the site of his ultimate undoing.

The dimensional equations continued to flicker at the edges of his vision, a constant reminder of what was at stake. The journey had been merely a prelude. The real challenges awaited within those ancient walls.