With bated breath, Benjamin waited behind the door. He was dressed in an imperial military uniform. Though he had wanted to see his parents first, there was another person who wanted to meet him. By his side, was the holy knight Edmond Ren. Compared to the nervous Benjamin, the latter was waiting without much of a care at all.

“Aren’t you scared? It's the crown princess we’re talking about here,” he asked.

“What’s there to be scared of? We were both chosen by her family.”

“I still can’t believe you’re the strongest one they have.”

“Aw come on, we’re both important ones here, right? You be the brain, and I hold the sword.”

“Shit. Don’t just sum up the expedition just like that. Get some flavour and spice in there. We didn’t clear the beast wastelands for nothing. Add in some stories about how you followed my brilliant instruction, and ambushed a gigantic beast before slaying it in one strike or something. We need to give the princess something that will make her favour us more.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Then how about this. I… slashed that beast until it died?”

“That’s the creativity of a holy knight, right there.”

Edmond looked at the other with a confused look. Instead of the plate armour that he wore the most, the imperial uniform was much lighter. Form fitting, and a tight fit.

The door opened, and they were allowed in from the waiting room. Servants were lined up by the side, and the ballroom was abuzz. Crowds of people stood within, with glasses of wine or alcohol in their hands. All eyes were on them as they walked down the red carpet. Edmond’s feet dragged along, and his eyes wandered around. Benjamin wore a stoic face, and approached that pretty lady dressed in a ballgown.

A tiara sat atop her head, with jewels sparkling and the gold reflective. She sat alone, on an elevated platform. The red carpet led to her, and ended beneath her seat. The two knelt down on a knee, and looked down.

“Your highness, presented to you are Benjamin Wynt and Edmond Ren. They are the pair that subjugated the beast wastelands,” a servant announced.

“Your highness, I am Benjamin, of the Wynt family,” he introduced himself.

“I am Edmond Ren, your highness.”

“Alright. Stand up, let me take a look at you two.”

The two followed her order, and stood up. Benjamin could feel her piercing gaze on them, as if analysing their every move. His face tensed up, and a drop of sweat rode along his face, and clung onto his chin.

He could remember the first time they met. But he was more focused on the present. What was her evaluation of them? Even if it wasn’t good, as long as it was better than Edmond, Benjamin didn’t mind. He had confidence that the knight wouldn’t be selected.

“Hm. Well, alright. Congratulations you two, you did a good job” she said with a sigh.

The princess wore a long flowy white dress, and showed off her long blonde hair with the tiara. Indeed, she had a look that could send chills down a belligerent diplomat or envoy should they make their intentions known. Her blue irises were complemented with large eyes.

“Your highness, I thank you for your praise,” Benjamin said with as much sincerity as he could manage.

She nodded. Everyone there knew that those actions held no meaning. Just simple, and forced courtesy.

The crown princess looked to be around their age. Fair and clear skin, with long smooth blonde hair. Her eyes drifted away, as if watching a boring play.

“Well, enjoy the celebration, you two. Enjoy the night, it's for two.”

“Yes, your highness.”

Applause erupted within the ballroom. The two heroes of the beast wastelands bowed, and walked away. That was the extent of their interactions with the crown princess.

So even as an Arcleus, that’s all I get with her?

Benjamin held his index finger beneath his nose. His left arm supported the weight of his right, and his hand was clasped on his elbow. The news only reached him a few days ago, when he embarked on his return. Edmond waved goodbye as he returned to his family, and Benjamin waved back. He wandered through the throngs of people wanting to talk to him. Dressed in ball gowns and suits, he couldn’t blend in with the numerous medals awarded to him and pinned on his chest.

“Lord Wynt!” the crowds cried out.

They were all desperate to get his attention. Although the news of the Arcleus selection was not publicly announced, nothing could stop the rumours. Besides, it was the obvious answer. Young, somewhat handsome, and with the recent achievements. Who else was more suitable? Surely the other two Arcleuses, whoever they were, had no chance to compete with him. That was the aristocracy’s thoughts.

He walked around, weaving past and through the crowd in search of his family. From the red carpet, he spread out like a person with no direction. He really didn’t have any. It was the third time he entered the imperial palace.

“Yo, good job out there,” a man said.

That man looked to be a few years older than him. Wearing a white suit, and holding a glass of champagne in his hand. In his early twenties, he was a little bit taller than Benjamin, and raised his glass as a greeting.

“I’m of a higher rank than you. Don’t act like that in public.”

“Aren’t you a brave warrior. Sitting back, and moving pieces when you feel like it.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Wow. Is it winter already? Oh wait, I’m talking to sir Benjamin Wynt. No big difference.”

“Yes, not much.”

“Anyway, good work. Not everyone has a mind like yours.”

“And not everyone has the greed like yours.”

“If I was greedy, would I have lent money for your expedition? Remember, sir Wynt, we’re business partners, not enemies alright.”

That man waved goodbye as he disappeared into the crowd. It seemed that all he wanted to do was the mess with Benjamin. As he walked away, and the others closed the gap, Benjamin caught a look at his short black hair. That man was the son of earl Ouwn. Benjamin, being a son of a marquess, was naturally higher in rank. Furthermore, Benjamin knew that he had the privilege of an Arcleus. Simply being one of those special three was something in and of itself.

A noblewoman walked up to him then, after he bid his goodbye. His attention shifted to that middle aged woman. That shade of green rather clashed with the woman’s other accessories. There was only one thing she could be here for. Instantly, he began looking around for someone about his age.

“Oh lord Wynt! Pleasure to meet you here. I’m the countess of Yuni, Avadia Flint.”

“Yes, pleasure to meet you too,” he replied in a flat tone.

“Tell me, are you currently having any thoughts about finding a wife?”

There it was. If a noble approached another, especially if the person in question was still on the younger side, there could only be one thing. Marriage. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand where she was coming from. If one married a person of higher standing, the rules of inheritance stated that the spouse would be on the same level as their own partner.

“Ah.”

Benjamin kept up his facade as he continued chatting. After all, a puny son of a marquess couldn’t be rude. At most, only the imperial family themselves or a family near that level could get away with it. He had to keep it up.

“I see. But I’m afraid I have another appointment soon. Please write to me, in order to continue this conversation.”

“Ah of course! My apologies. I’m sure you’ll find my daughter suitable.”

He bowed his head and walked away. What were they even doing? To play matchmaker, without the other end present. That was unacceptable. Besides, there was no point in spending time with other nobles. If he won the heart of the crown princess, and managed to convince the empire that he was the best Arcleus available, there was an even larger fish to catch.

Out of the crowds though, there was something that caught his eye. Raven black hair. If taken in isolation, that was nothing special. But, there was another characteristic. The only other family that could have a near immunity to anything that they do. Those dragon-like, crimson red eyes, and coupled with the raven black hair. No one was anywhere near them, and they looked to appreciate that. As if they were disease carriers, everyone stayed away from them. Perhaps not a coincidence, but the radius around them was roughly the length of the male’s blade, combined with his arm length. Bringing a weapon to a royal celebration was a taboo. But there they were, flaunting it as they always did.

Benjamin did his best to avoid them. That family was always trouble, what with their policies and history with dragons. Although, the last dragon sighting was more than 70 years ago, and their very existence was on the edge of becoming a myth. Rather, given a year or so, it was likely that the dragons will be treated as such. Long gone threats.

“My. Lord Benjamin Wynt, the hero of the beast wastelands. Heard that it was your tactics that scored the win,” a nobleman said.

He looked about 40, so who knew what he was doing talking to him. But there was an obvious hatred within his eyes. That black fire, Benjamin could see it.

“Tactics and strategy can only go so far. I have my comrade lord Edmond Ren to thank for that too.”

“Ho? So you admit that he did most of the work?”

By then, those around them had stopped their chattering. Every bit of their attention was on them. That nobleman did a bad job of hiding his dissent within his words. The thinly veiled dislike was on display for all to see. A fight was on the menu.

“He wields the sword. I give him directions. After all, what good does swinging a blade bring if there are no enemies that they can find?”

“Did you, though? Is there any evidence of your achievements? Are you not just trying to ride on his wave of success?”

Benjamin had no idea who the new enemy was. And if he spoke honestly, he couldn’t care. Perhaps then, it might be a good chance to show off to the princess.

“Are you trying to say that you can best me in strategy?” Benjamin chuckled as he said it.

“Anyone worth their salt could.”

“Then are you?”

“I’ll wipe that damn smirk off your face.”

“Huahahaha. Look at you. Picking a fight in front of everyone here.”

He looked in the direction of the crown princess. She gave a shrug, and made no objection. It seemed like she wasn’t going to stop it. And so far, it had been going in Benjamin’s favour.

“Urg. You think you can talk to your senior with such disrespect? I’ll crush you here and now.”

“That’s perfectly fine with me. What’s your challenge?”

“I’ll get rid of your attitude soon enough,” the nobleman spat out, “Bring out a chessboard! Now!”

Benjamin shrugged. There was no point in worrying. The checkerboard fashioned game was brought out. By then, the entire ballroom was quiet. Even the ones with raven hair and red eyes stopped to watch.

“Black or white? I’ll let you choose,” said Benjamin.

“White. I’ll crush you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Chess pieces of frosted glass were arranged. The bishop, the rook, nothing was missing. On the white’s side were clear glass pieces.

“Go ahead.”

“I will.”

That nobleman had a rather cocky look. Either he had the skills and intuition to back that up, or it was all baseless. It didn’t matter which it was, the situation still remained the same. He was confident in whatever skills he had. But the same applied to Benjamin Wynt.

That match was decided quickly enough. With overwhelming material advantage, combined with a surplus of blunders from the nobleman proved an easy battle. Isolated and alone, the king was forced into checkmate. But even before that, perhaps as a form of polite mockery, Benjamin had promoted 3 of his pawns to the most powerful piece, the queen. The game wasn’t anything to make a note of. No revolutionary techniques were used, no new ideas. And yet it was a one sided slaughter.

“Well, I think that proves it.”

A silence that could make a drop of a pencil resonate throughout the room. It was the type of silence when no one wishes to make a noise, almost in anticipation of hearing something.They could not let any noise drown out what might come after.

With a red face, and barely hidden killing intent, everyone knew what was to come. Having been humiliated by a man about 20 years younger than himself, that was something he was unlikely to live down. Benjamin seemed to be relishing in his opponent’s anger, though. His face contorted in a proud, and cocky grin. As if seeing the downfall of their enemy, or having someone ensnared in a nefarious prank.

“Damn it!”

The nobleman slammed his fist down onto the table. A chess piece began to roll off the table, but almost no one paid any attention to it. Nearly every pair of eyes were focused on the nobleman.

“It was easier than I thought. Really, were you even trying? You don’t need to go easy on me,” Benjamin said, feigning disappointment, “But there’s no going against fate, is there?”

“You… This doesn’t mean anything, Wynt!”

He stormed away to a corner. The glass chess piece was nearing the table’s edge by then. Just as it began to fall off, drifting closer to breaking, a quick hand snatched it away. Edmond Ren was the only one who didn’t pay attention to the battle. The smooth, hard glass felt firm within his hands, yet it felt foreign. After all, a sword can’t be made from glass. With the gentleness of a man petting a cat, he placed it back down on the corner closest to him.

Applause took over. Not with the speed that she’d like, but it happened nonetheless. The crown princess was the one that put her hands together first, giving the crowd permission to clap. Once the ovation died down, she started speaking.

“Well, that was a nice show.”

“I thank you for your praise, your highness,” Benjamin bowed as he said it.

A smirk spread across his face. His objective had been fulfilled, and more. If the rumours spread right, public opinion of him would skyrocket. Of course, the opposite could be true as well. Instead of a hero proving his worth, he might become a villain, dead set on winning and wouldn’t bat an eye when it came to humiliating someone.

“Now, I think something can be learnt from this. Of course, never be too cocky. And that goes for you too, lord Benjamin Wynt. Someone might be better than you.”

“Oh, your highness. I thank you for your warning.”

She smiled. It wasn’t a courtesy smile like he had witnessed before. And it certainly wasn’t the warm expression that he saw when he was younger. No, what took its place was a calm, cold smile.