“You seem to have grown bolder,” Sebastian remarked, though his tone carried no accusation. Instead, Luke thought he could detect a hint of pride.

  “I had no choice,” Luke replied. “Even if we came back tomorrow, he would have found another excuse to avoid meeting with us.” He let out a sigh, tapping his fingers lightly against the wooden table.

  He hadn’t expected that his first interaction upon entering the castle would cause such a disturbance. Perhaps it was his frustration—frustration that the minister was lounging in comfort while men were dying in droves, hundreds of miles from their homes.

  “I’d get comfortable if I were you. I don’t think the minister will be in a hurry to see us—not after you manhandled one of his servants,” Hilda remarked, lowering her large frame into a high-backed chair.

  She was right. After being led into the reception hall, no one had checked on them for over three hours. Typically, guests would be offered refreshments, with servants on standby to ensure their comfort.

  Yet Luke and his party received none of this.

  Apart from Kayson, who had been pacing back and forth for most of the wait, the rest remained outwardly calm. Luke, however, was inwardly seething—not because they were being ignored, but because time was slipping away.

  Hayden had brought wagons of supplies from Clayton City, but they were finite. Without aid from the capital, those stationed at the fortress would run out of food in less than two weeks.

  And then there was the looming threat of retaliation. Once the Qin Empire recaptured Xiu Fortress—abandoned by Hayden—they would be free to send a force southwest toward Clayton City.

  Luke had left the majority of the thunder bombs in the Viscount’s care for this exact reason, bringing only a few to present to the King and the alchemists of the capital.

  The sound of a door clicking open drew everyone’s attention.

  A rotund man entered, dressed in opulent robes. His pudgy fingers, adorned with gold rings, resembled sausages more than anything else. Though short in stature, his bulging stomach protruded outward, giving him the appearance of an overinflated ball.

  Despite his unimpressive exterior, everyone stood in respect.

  “Left Minister.” Luke cupped his fist and bowed.

  The others in the room echoed his actions. The man before them wielded true power—second only to two others in the entire Marxx Kingdom: the King and the Right Minister.

  The fat man scoffed and waddled over to the head of the table, sinking into his seat. Four soldiers flanked him, their heavy armor gleaming, spears held at the ready.

  “Hurry and relay your news. I am a very busy man,” he said impatiently, pulling a cloth from his robe and dabbing the sweat from his brow.

  Only after he was seated did everyone else take their seats, adhering to proper etiquette..

  “Left Minister, we bring word from Clayton City,” Luke said. “The city suffered an attack by an army of thirty thousand from Lhair in the west. We managed to defeat them and eliminate their Holy Knights, but at least ten thousand soldiers escaped.”

  The Left Minister’s expression remained unchanged. “I received this report days ago, though I question the veracity of these claims.”

  “Sorry?” Luke was momentarily stunned. “Minister, these are not just claims. We personally fought against that army, enduring two grueling weeks under siege before finally securing victory.”

  “Young man, I suggest you watch your tone,” the fat man said, his pudgy face twisting into a frown.

  Luke felt anger stir within him but forced himself to remain calm. “Minister, I have more pressing news.” Perhaps if he provided more details, the man would take him seriously.

  “Xiu Fortress has been abandoned, and Valand City has been razed to the ground. We believe Clayton City is now the northernmost stronghold of the Marxx Kingdom. I request reinforcements to bolster our defenses—otherwise, war may soon reach the capital.”

  “Madness!” The Left Minister slammed his hand against the table, his chubby face turning red. “How can you spout such nonsense? There are at least three cities north of Valand City.”

  “It is because of Lhair, Minister,” Kayson interjected, his tone low and dangerous. Luke could tell that if not for his restraint, Kayson would have already lashed out at the fool seated before them.

  “They’ve infiltrated our lands and nearly succeeded in taking Clayton City. Were it not for Luke’s new weapon, we wouldn’t have lasted against their army,” Kayson continued.

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  “Weapon?” The Left Minister hesitated. “Are you referring to the thunder bombs?” His eyes gleamed with greed. “Show them to me.”

  Luke frowned. The man had ignored everything else and fixated solely on the weapon.

  “Minister, about the reinforcements?” Luke pressed.

  “Yes, yes,” the minister said dismissively, waving a pudgy hand. “You’ll get your supplies and reinforcements.” He barely spared them a glance before gesturing impatiently. “Now, show me the bomb.”

  Only then did Luke allow himself a small sigh of relief. He reached into his bag and grasped one of the thunder bombs. Since they were nearly a table’s length apart, he held it up for the minister to see.

  A soldier stepped forward, collected the clay bomb, and delivered it to the minister. The fat man turned it over in his hands a few times before looking up. “This is the so-called thunder bomb?”

  “Yes, Minister. Once you light the fuse, you have about five seconds before it detonates. Anything within the blast radius will be maimed or killed,” Luke explained.

  “I find it hard to believe that something so small could cause such destruction.” Disinterest flashed across the minister’s face.

  “Would you care to test it out, Left Minister?” Luke asked, a small smile creeping onto his lips. He stood, retrieved another thunder bomb from his bag, and walked over to one of the candles.

  Luke glanced at the Left Minister, whose face had gone pale. Yet despite his obvious fear, there was still a glint of defiance in his eyes.

  “Y-You’re bluffing,” he stammered. “If what you say is true, then lighting that would kill us all.”

  Luke shrugged. “Are you saying you believe me, Minister?”

  A tense silence filled the room as the two locked eyes, neither willing to back down. Luke could tell the Minister didn’t want to concede—whether out of pride or sheer stubbornness.

  “I do not believe it is as powerful as you claim,” the Left Minister finally said, his voice laced with forced conviction.

  Instead of irritation, Luke grinned.

  He placed the end of the rope into the flame and, without hesitation, tossed the bomb onto the table.

  Horror flashed across the Minister’s face as the clay sphere rolled toward him. His soldiers panicked, bolting for the door in a frenzied rush. Meanwhile, the Minister struggled to rise, his large stomach wedged between the chair and the wooden table, trapping him in place.

  Only Luke’s party remained unfazed, watching the chaos unfold with quiet amusement.

  Just before the fuse burned through, Kayson casually reached over, plucked the smoldering rope from the weapon, and extinguished it between his fingers.

  Silence settled over the room, broken only by the Minister’s ragged breathing.

  Luke’s cold smile deepened, filled with dark satisfaction. The Minister had believed the bomb was real.

  Of course, Luke hadn’t been reckless enough to light a live thunder bomb in such a confined space. The one he had thrown was a decoy—one of the many empty shells left after they had used up the gunpowder.

  “Y-Y-You maniac!” the Minister sputtered, flecks of spittle flying across the table. “How dare you put me in such danger? This is treason!”

  Luke chuckled. “My apologies, Minister. You were never in any real danger.” He flashed a brilliant smile. “That was just a decoy.”

  He walked over and retrieved the bomb. “I would never put myself or my friends at risk in such a way,” he added casually.

  The Minister’s face contorted in a rapid cycle—shock, embarrassment, then seething rage. The shade of his chubby face deepened, shifting from red to purple before settling on a furious crimson.

  “Ah, I almost forgot.” Luke reached into his bag, pulling out a wax-sealed letter. “I have a recommendation letter for myself and Kayson to enter the Royal Academy, signed by Viscount Diego and Master Boyd. Would you mind approving it?”

  He slid the letter across the table.

  At that moment, the soldiers who had fled earlier peeked through the doorway. Their guilty expressions betrayed their understanding that they would face serious consequences for their cowardice.

  The Left Minister’s gaze never left Luke, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

  “How about this?” Luke suggested, tapping the sealed letter. “You approve our recommendation, and we all forget what happened today. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

  The Minister’s double chin trembled with barely contained fury, and for a moment, Luke thought he was about to explode. Instead, the man turned to the soldiers and barked, “Get me my seal and some ink!”

  Luke let out an inward sigh of relief. He had taken a huge risk—one that could have just as easily backfired if he hadn’t been careful. If it weren’t for the fact that the Left Minister cared deeply about his image, he likely wouldn’t have agreed to such a deal.

  Not only had he secured supplies and reinforcements for Clayton City, but he had also guaranteed his and Kayson’s entry into the Royal Academy. Each student was permitted a single servant, which meant Sebastian would be able to accompany him as well.

  ‘This is great…’ Luke thought.

  As the Minister stamped the letter, making it official, Luke absentmindedly shuffled the decoy bomb in his hand. But then, something caught his attention.

  A fine, gritty substance clung to his palm.

  Frowning, he glanced down and noticed gunpowder trailing from the opening of the thunder bomb, accompanied by small metal fragments.

  His breath hitched.

  For a few moments, his mind refused to process what he was seeing. But when the realization finally struck, his face turned ghostly pale.

  The bomb he’d thrown… wasn’t a decoy.

  A cold sweat broke out across his back. His fingers tightened around the clay sphere. If Kayson hadn’t pulled out the fuse… everyone in this room would either be dead or gravely wounded.

  The weight of his mistake settled over him like a crushing force, but before he could react, the Minister shoved the freshly stamped recommendation letter across the table.

  “There,” he spat. “If a single word of this makes its way out of this room, I will have you all hanged.”

  He then stood abruptly, waiting—though for what, no one seemed to understand.

  “Move my damn chair!” he barked.

  The soldiers flinched before scrambling to obey, pulling the chair away from the table to clear his path. Only after the Minister had left did they allow themselves to look visibly relieved.

  Luke, too, felt the tension drain from his body. That was far too close.

  “Well, that was fun,” Victoria said with a small laugh.

  “Yeah, the look on that arrogant guy’s face was golden,” Kayson added, flashing Luke a thumbs-up. “The decoy thunder bomb was a nice touch.”

  “Y-Yeah, definitely,” Luke replied, forcing out a nervous chuckle.

  He quickly composed himself. Best to move forward.

  “It’ll be getting dark soon. We should find a place to stay for the night. Tomorrow, we’ll head to the Royal Academy and present the letter.”

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