After the Royal Academy delegation left, a royal messenger arrived at Ryo's tavern before dawn. The sealed letter he carried bore the king's seal – not a request, but a royal summons to the capital.

  "Well," Ryo said, reading the ornate document while serving morning ale to Turner, "guess I can't ignore this one."

  "The king himself?" Turner whistled. "Fancy. You going to wear those fancy robes the Academy left for you?"

  "And look like a stuffed peacock? No thanks." Ryo continued serving customers as if receiving a royal summons was an everyday occurrence. "Though I probably shouldn't show up in my tavern clothes either."

  Elena burst through the door, her summons in hand. "Did you get—"

  "Yep." Ryo poured her a drink without being asked. "Guess we're taking a trip to the capital. Think they have decent ale there?"

  "This is serious," Elena insisted, though she took the offered drink. "A royal summons means—"

  "That someone important wants to either use me or control me," Ryo finished. "I know. I've dealt with this kind of thing before, I think I will get promoted."

  The news spread quickly through Millbrook. By midday, the tavern was packed with people offering advice and concerns, and in Beth's case, enough packed food for a small army.

  "The capital's full of sneaky types," she warned, forcing another wrapped package into Ryo's hands. "Don't trust their fancy food. And don't let them push you around!"

  Anna was practically vibrating with excitement. "The Royal Library is there! And the Academy's main research halls! Could you maybe—"

  "Already planning to grab some books for you," Ryo assured her. "Though you might want to focus on running this place while I'm gone. Turner's good with the stock, but he'll need help with the actual serving."

  The next morning, Ryo and Elena set out in a royal carriage. He'd compromised on the clothing, wearing a simple but well-made traveling outfit that wouldn't stand out too much in the capital.

  "You're too calm about this," Elena observed as they traveled. "The king doesn't personally summon people unless it's extremely important."

  "Oh, I know it's important," Ryo replied, watching the landscape pass. "They probably want to figure out if I'm a threat, an asset, or both. Standard political stuff."

  "Standard?" Elena raised an eyebrow. "How many kings have you dealt with?"

  "Kings? A few. Also emperors, divine councils, corporate boards..." He grinned at her expression. "What, you thought tavern keeping was my only experience with leadership?"

  The capital city of Valorhaven appeared on the horizon three days later – a sprawling metropolis of white stone and magical lights. Spires reached toward the sky, some seemingly defying gravity through magical enhancement.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  "Bit flashy," Ryo commented as their carriage passed through the gates. "Bet their ale is overpriced."

  People stopped to stare as they passed. Word had spread about the worldwalker who fought an Old One. Ryo could hear whispers, some fearful, others curious, and more than a few calculating.

  "The noble houses are already taking sides," Elena murmured, noting the different colored sashes and badges on passing aristocrats. "Some want you recruited, others want you controlled."

  "And some probably want me dead," Ryo added cheerfully. "Politics never changes, no matter the realm."

  They were escorted directly to the palace – an enormous structure that managed to be both beautiful and defensible. Guards wearing enhanced armor lined the corridors, their weapons magical in nature.

  The throne room was packed with nobles, officials, and Academy representatives. King Gerald Valford sat on an elevated throne, looking exactly like what Ryo expected from a medieval fantasy monarch – middle-aged, strong-featured, and radiating authority.

  "So," the king said as Ryo and Elena were presented, "you're the world walker who's been hiding as a tavern keeper in my kingdom."

  "Great ale, though," Ryo replied, ignoring the shocked gasps at his casual tone. "Your Majesty should try it sometime."

  A noble in expensive red robes stepped forward. "This is precisely the problem! No respect for authority, no understanding of his place—"

  "Lord Darius," the king interrupted, "I don't recall asking for your opinion yet." He focused on Ryo. "Though he raises a point. What are we to make of someone with your power who chooses to serve drinks rather than seek proper position?"

  "Honestly?" Ryo shrugged. "I like serving drinks. It's simple, it makes people happy, and until recently, nobody tried to kill me or draft me into realm-shaking conflicts."

  Another noble, this one in more subtle blue and silver, spoke up. "Surely someone of your capabilities could serve the kingdom better in an official capacity? The House of Winters would be honored to sponsor—"

  "Thanks, but no thanks." Ryo kept his tone light but firm. "I'm not interested in playing noble house politics. I serve ale, protect my town, and occasionally fight ancient beings who want to destroy reality. That's enough for me."

  The throne room erupted in arguments. Nobles shouted proposals and accusations, Academy mages debated proper procedures, and through it all, King Gerald watched Ryo with calculating eyes.

  "Silence," the king commanded finally. The room quieted instantly. "Elena, your report."

  Elena stepped forward and detailed everything – the blood mages, the Old One, Ryo's powers, and his strategic reasoning for staying in Millbrook. The room grew tenser with each revelation.

  "So," King Gerald said when she finished, "we face an ancient threat, and one of the few beings capable of fighting it insists on remaining a tavern keeper in a small town."

  "Pretty much," Ryo agreed. "Though I'm happy to help when needed. I just won't be controlled or ordered around."

  Lord Darius sputtered. "This is absurd! He must be brought under proper authority—"

  "Must I?" Ryo let a fraction of his power leak out, just enough to make the magical lights flicker. "Your Majesty, let's be clear. I chose your realm. I chose Millbrook. I choose to help against the Old Ones because they threaten what I care about. But I won't be anyone's weapon or political tool."

  The king leaned forward. "And if I insisted?"

  "Then I'd leave." Ryo's voice was calm but firm. "Find another realm to serve ale in. And you'd face the Old Ones alone."

  Silence fell. The nobles held their breath, waiting for the king's reaction to such blatant defiance.

  To everyone's surprise, King Gerald laughed.

  "Finally, someone who speaks plainly!" He stood up. "Very well, Worldwalker. Keep your tavern. Fight your battles. But in return, I want your word that you'll come when truly needed – not as a subject, but as an ally."

  "That," Ryo said with a genuine smile, "I can agree to."

  As the throne room erupted in fresh arguments and discussions, a servant slipped Ryo a note: "Watch your back. Not everyone will accept this arrangement."

  Ryo pocketed the warning without changing expression. Politics, assassins, noble plots – all familiar games from his past lives. But this time, he had a tavern to return to and people who saw him as more than just his power.

  That made all the difference.