Soon enough, the three of them stepped into the largest caravan.
The interior was crafted from dark wood, and the earthy scent of timber greeted them the moment they entered—swiftly followed by the mouth-watering aroma of savoury dishes.
At the center of the space stood a small rectangular table made of polished, ebony wood. On one side rested a grand chair adorned with golden cushions; opposite it were two smaller chairs, each cushioned in black.
The prince was the first to sit, with Nicholas and Ares following close behind.
Before anyone could speak, an elderly man approached. But he barely opened his mouth before the young prince raised a hand and gave a firm order.
"Bring us your finest meat and wine."
The old man gave a deep, respectful nod and hurried off without a word.
"Well then…" the prince said, breaking the silence that had settled like a fog around them.
"Where were we… ah, right. Nicholas," the prince said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I heard you've taken on a student. The reason, I assume, you refused the summons to the royal palace?"
"Apologies, Your Majesty, I—"
"No, no. No need," the prince interrupted, waving a hand in dismissal. "It might've been for the better. I trust you've heard of the ongoing war?"
Both Nicholas and Ares gave solemn nods.
"You see," the prince continued, his voice dipping into a more serious tone, "I'm assembling a special... task force. We could use someone with your talents, Nicholas."
Nicholas hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, with a respectful but uncertain tone, he replied, "With all due respect, Your Majesty, I'm merely an Expert Rank. The Kingdom currently has three Grandmasters. Wouldn't they be better suited for such a force?"
A coy smile curled across the prince's face—but before he could respond, a soft knock stole their attention. Moments later, two servants entered, carrying three plates of prime-cut steak and glasses of deep red wine.
"Please," the prince said, gesturing to the food laid out before them.
At his word, Ares was the first to dig in, followed by Nicholas. The prince, however, reached for his wine instead. He swirled the glass thoughtfully, watching the liquid catch the light before taking a slow sip.
"Grandmasters have other roles to play," he said at last. "True, an Expert Rank may not seem the obvious choice for something like this... But we already have a team of Master Ranks. What we lack is someone with finesse—someone who can provide stealth."
Nicholas's eyes widened, just slightly.
"Yes," the prince said, acknowledging the reaction with a knowing look. "I've heard of your Stealth Ability."
The young soldier hesitated, gathering his thoughts. Then he spoke again, his tone cautious.
"Your Majesty… what kind of mission is this task force expected to carry out?"
The prince leaned forward, voice dropping to a razor's edge.
"We'll slip behind enemy lines—and eliminate high-value targets."
Nicholas fell silent for a moment. He cast a quick glance at Ares, then lifted his glass and took a measured sip of wine before replying.
"If those are the King's orders… then I have no right to refuse."
The prince gave a quiet chuckle and shook his head.
"The King? No, no. My brother is far too foolish to think of such things."
Both Nicholas and Ares froze, eyes wide at the bold insult.
But the prince wasn't finished.
"He lacks any real sense of strategy. He clings to his image more than he does to the good of the kingdom..." He trailed off, then sighed. "No matter. The King has nothing to do with this."
Nicholas narrowed his eyes. "Your Majesty… are you asking me to carry out missions and risk my life—outside the King's orders?"
The prince smiled then—perhaps for the first time, it seemed genuine.
"I believe the reward is quite generous."
"Reward?" Ares' mind raced. What kind of reward could a young prince offer? Gold? A castle? A princess?
The three of them sat in silence for a beat, the tension coiling like a drawn bowstring.
"I'm sure you've heard of the royal enhancer?" the prince said at last.
Nicholas's eyes went wide. He leaned forward, nearly rising from his seat.
"The enhancer? No… You can't mean—"
"Yes," the prince confirmed smoothly. "Those who join the team will receive a full month of training with the enhancer. I'm sure you're well aware of the benefits."
Nicholas gave a slow nod, still visibly stunned. His expression stood in stark contrast to Ares, who looked completely lost.
"What the hell is an enhancer?"
Unbeknownst to Ares, the royal enhancer referred to a Master Rank man gifted with a unique ability—which allowed others to double the speed at which they gathered mana.
In this world, progression began at Novice Rank. To reach the second stage, one had to master manipulating mana within their own body. The third required control of mana outside the body and the awakening of a soul weapon enchantment. Perfecting both granted access to Intermediate Rank—but that was where things truly began to change.
From that point forward, advancement depended on gathering mana into one's core to expand its capacity. But the process was slow. Painfully so. There was a natural limit to how fast mana could be absorbed. Killing beasts—or others rich in mana—offered a shortcut, but it came with immense risk.
That's where the royal enhancer came in.
With his rare ability, he could double a person's rate of mana absorption—a tremendous advantage. One so powerful, that the King deemed it unfit for the general population. The enhancer was reserved only for the King himself—and those absolutely loyal to the crown.
Noticing the way Nicholas was still staring, silent and overwhelmed, the prince finally spoke again, breaking the heavy silence.
"I'm sure you have a lot to think about," he said, standing up. "I leave tomorrow at noon. Take the night to consider, and let me know your decision by then."
With that, he turned and exited the caravan, leaving the two men behind in a silence far heavier than the one that had come before.