"Even filth, in the right hands, can become fire."
"Hey, little prince, your online shopping has arrived!" Dante announced, kicking a few wooden crates brought in by the soldiers accompanying him.
I crouched down and pried open one of the crates, revealing its contents: a round metal container with a rough surface, seemingly forged from remnants of old breastplates. It was about the size of a small bowl, with a flat base designed for stability when planted into the ground. The lid was a thin sheet of iron secured by unevenly wrapped copper wire.
"What's that?" Aarav asked, crouching beside me. Moments later, Zura joined us, her curiosity piqued.
"Nio, why so much charcoal?" Zura inquired, opening another crate. "And what's in this one? It smells awful."
"Just a little mischief of mine," I replied, placing the hollow metal back into its crate. "I need a few skilled hands. Gather five or six individuals—metalworkers, weapon smiths, traveling blacksmiths, and even jewelers if available. But ensure they're trustworthy."
Thalgar narrowed his eyes briefly before nodding and exiting to fulfill my request.
"Now, your turn, Aarav," I said, catching his attention. "I need you to create something using your alchemical prowess."
I fiddled with a flint stone, extracting a small white pellet and displaying it to the group. "I need you to make this, Aarav."
"Take out your Arcana Codex," I instructed.
"Why?" Aarav raised an eyebrow.
"Curious? Just follow along," I said, then turned to Dante and Zura. "You two as well."
"You remember the last time I used that thing, I blew up Thalgar's troops, right?" Aarav said skeptically.
"That was because you always approached it with anger. Try to be calm. Think of something pleasant."
Reluctantly, he complied. The other two, equally intrigued, followed suit.
"This is a manifestation of your soul, Aarav. Everything inscribed here reflects your knowledge," I explained, pointing to Aarav's Arcana Codex.
He scrutinized his Codex, then looked back at me. "I still don't get it. A manifestation of my soul? So, it's just a magic book about me?"
"Not just that," I said, pressing the center of the small white pellet—it emitted a faint spark and a sharp sulfuric scent. "Your Codex records everything you've ever understood, even subconsciously. Suppose you've seen or touched something and know a bit about its composition. In that case, the Codex can help you manipulate it through alchemy."
Zura looked at me, her gaze soft yet concerned. "But isn't this material... dangerous?"
I nodded slightly. "Yes. That's why I won't create it recklessly. But we don't have the luxury of time. If we want to deceive the enemy and lead them astray, this trap—" I held up the pellet again "—could be the key."
Dante yawned exaggeratedly. "I'm here because I was told to be, but if this turns into a suicide experiment, I'll make sure to list you all as the cause of my tragic and stylish demise."
"No one will die," I said quickly. "If everything goes according to plan."
Aarav flipped through his Codex slowly without touching it, seemingly beginning to grasp the concept. "I remember reading about the thermite reaction in school. A mix of aluminum and iron oxide. Burns hot enough to melt metal..."
"Exactly," I said with a slight smile. "But I don't need thermite. I need a lighter version, something that can be compacted but still reacts quickly when triggered."
Zura tilted her head slightly. "Triggered... like with this flint?"
I nodded. "We'll embed the trigger underground, with the surface made to look like an ordinary stone. They won't realize until it's too late."
Aarav took a deep breath. "So I need to manipulate a few basic elements into a stable, reactive form until they become the compound you want?"
"Yes," I replied. "And you can start with two things—Sulfur and Potassium Nitrate. I've got scrolls with reaction formulas, possible local substitutes for Earth-based compounds, and a few alternatives I remember from science lessons that are still stuck in my head."
I tossed him three scrolls I had written myself.
Then he stopped. His eyes sharpened. "Wait."
He looked at me with growing suspicion.
"Potassium Nitrate? Compound? Hey… are you really from this world, or… has this world suddenly developed a concept of 'science'?"
Dante, who had looked half-bored the entire time, suddenly perked up, his expression sharp. "Heh. That's what I was thinking, too. Sounds way too familiar, doesn't it? Chemistry terms? Science?" He crossed his arms. "I've only ever heard words like that back where we came from—not in a fantasy world filled with monsters and magic."
I flinched for a fraction of a second but quickly forced a small, calm smile. "I studied under an Astral Voyager… someone brilliant. He didn't last long in this world, but he left behind books and notes. A lot of them. So, let's just say I inherited a bit of his knowledge."
Dante narrowed his eyes. "Is that so?"
Aarav still looked doubtful but eventually shook his head slowly. "Well, if you learned from someone that smart… I guess that makes more sense than a palace brat with a weak body suddenly understanding reactive chemistry."
"I'm not just a regular palace brat," I said with a faint smile. "I'm a palace brat with too much free time and an unhealthy amount of curiosity."
Zura looked at me, still worried, but a hint of admiration glinted in her eyes. "You really do hide a lot, Nio."
Aarav sighed and turned his attention back to the scrolls I handed him. "Okay. I'll try to make this. But if this thing blows up in our faces, I'm dragging you down to hell with me."
He took a deep breath, then raised his right hand. Behind him, the Arcana Codex glowed dimly, its untouched pages trembling gently in the air as if answering a silent call only its user could hear. Faint symbols flickered on blank pages, forming an alchemical circle suspended in the air between us.
"I'll need the base materials," Aarav muttered. "You said… local substitutes work?"
"I've already prepared them," I said, handing over two small leather pouches. "The first one…"
I pulled out a small pouch from one of the boxes and gave it to him. He opened it, sniffed, and immediately recoiled with a grimace.
"Is this… poop?" he asked, quietly horrified.
"Not just any poop," I said. "That's dried bat guano from the cave behind the river—rich in nitrates. The other pouch contains wood ash and chalky soil from the ruins of an old fortress."
Dante looked at me with mock horror. "I didn't know our little crown prince had such disgusting hobbies. What's next—collecting dragon toenails and goblin slime?"
I shrugged. "If they're useful, why not?"
Zura covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
Aarav took a pinch of the bat guano—now fully dried and crumbly—and eyed it critically. The Codex shimmered faintly, analyzing its shape, composition, and perhaps even some buried memory of a similar substance from his previous life.
"Focus on the idea of 'burning salt,'" I said. "Think of something that feeds fire. Oxygen… an invisible force that makes flames grow."
Aarav closed his eyes. The symbols in the air pulsed.
Then suddenly, in an instant, the guano powder in his palm began to glow—not burn, but emit a soft light. Its particles merged and danced. The Codex weaved a stream of pale blue energy around it, enveloping the mass and compressing it gently.
Zura held her breath.
Tiny white crystals gradually formed in Aarav's hand—fragile, small, with a faint shimmer.
"Potassium Nitrate," Aarav whispered in disbelief. "I… I can feel the Codex rearranging the atoms inside."
"Exactly," I said softly. "That Codex isn't just a book, Aarav. It's a conduit. It knows what you know… and makes it real."
Aarav stared at the crystal as though holding something far too powerful for ordinary hands. He closed his fingers around it, then looked at the remaining materials nearby.
"So next… sulfur and charcoal?" he asked.
I nodded. "We'll mix them in the right proportions, then press them into small pellets. Not too tight, or they won't ignite. But not too loose either."
Dante rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. "You two sound like nerdy kids from a modern world who got thrown into the Dark Ages."
"We'll prove a little 'nerd' can save lives," I replied with a grin.
Zura stepped closer, gazing at the crystal Aarav had just made. "Nio… what exactly are you planning?"
I offered only a faint, crooked smile. "Just a little mischief."
Aarav glanced at me for a moment, then nodded and began preparing the next ingredients. His hands moved without touching anything directly; the Arcana Codex followed his gestures like a living shadow that understood his intent. He lifted a handful of fine black powder from the remnants of burnt wood in another box, followed by a pinch of pale yellow sulfur sourced from the royal storeroom that had arrived along with the supplies.
"This is… charcoal and sulfur, right?" Aarav asked softly, almost as if speaking to himself.
"Correct," I answered gently. "Six parts Potassium Nitrate, one part sulfur, one part charcoal. Mix it slowly. Don't rush."
Dante stood behind Aarav, leaning lazily against the wall with his arms crossed. "Just make sure it doesn't blow up. I've got a date with a few lovely ladies the night after tomorrow."
I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "That's why I told you—and Zura—to activate your Arcana Codexes."
Zura, who had been standing a short distance away with her arms folded across her chest, turned to me, her eyes clear and questioning. "Me?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
I nodded. "If Aarav loses control, you can freeze the fire before everything goes up in flames."
Her expression flickered with hesitation, but then she took a deep breath and nodded slowly. She opened her hands in front of her chest, and the air around her immediately turned cold. Her Arcana Codex emerged like frost, etching delicate symbols in midair. A gentle aura of ice flowed from her body—calm, beautiful, and quietly powerful.
Meanwhile, Dante gave a short snort. "I can't exactly put fires out, but at least I can redirect the blast if things go south." He snapped his fingers, and a thin shard of mirror appeared in front of his face, reflecting Aarav's concentrated expression. "Honestly? I'm not sure what's more dangerous—the materials or that little prince's brain."
I didn't respond to the jab. I just kept watching Aarav, now surrounded by faint particles of light from his Codex. The Potassium Nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal began to rotate in the air, following invisible paths etched by unspoken formulas.
Zura whispered softly, "Are you sure this is going to work, Nio?"
I turned to her, my smile small and steady. "I believe in all of you."
In the next moment, the particles fuse. The blue light from Aarav's Codex compressed the reaction into a fine black powder—gunpowder. The mixture was dense but not solid—fragile, light… and incredibly dangerous.
"So this is… gunpowder?" Aarav stared at the black mixture in his hands with a mixture of awe and wariness.
"Yes," I replied. "We'll compress the pellets and seal them inside a metal container. Then we plant it with the trigger."
From the folds of my robe, I pulled out a small object—a flat metal rod embedded with red crystal shards from a magical igniter. "Just a bit of friction creates a spark. That's enough to set it off."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Simple and deadly. Sounds like my kind of trap."
"And enough to stop an entire squad if placed in the right spot," I added quietly.
Zura looked at the dark powder, her blue eyes tinged with concern. "I've never seen anything like this… Fire that's so easily awakened."
"Because it's not ordinary fire," I said. "It's knowledge from a faraway place. And if we want to win—then we have to combine magic and logic. Two things this world rarely sees together."
Zura gave a slow nod. "If it helps… I'll be ready."
Hours passed after our first successful mixture. I stood outside the tent, watching the empty clearing where unused logistics supplies were stacked. Thalgar returned, a few people trailing behind him.
One of them made me pause.
A boy—no older than ten—stood among the adult workers. His frame was thin, cheeks hollow, but his eyes… his eyes burned with the light of a stubborn, unyielding flame.
"Why'd you bring a child?" I asked Thalgar. "Did he get lost?"
The boy clutched a rough cloth over his hands. "No, Your Highness," he said, voice firm. "I came… because you need help."
I turned my gaze back to Thalgar.
"He insisted," the Beast Knight said, his voice unusually gentle. "He says he's quick with his hands, and he used to help traveling blacksmiths near the border. I tried sending him back, but he…"
He hesitated.
"I swear I can work fast and clean!" the boy cut in. "I've patched shields and fixed broken goblets for traders!"
I kept staring at him, uncertain. The logical part of me screamed that this was reckless. But then the boy spoke again, softer this time, his eyes trembling but never looking away.
"Please… please save my mother."
I froze.
"She's sick. Can't walk anymore. She wheezes every night, just trying to breathe. But… when the monsters came, they didn't kill everyone. They dragged some people away. My mother was one of them."
The world fell silent.
Zura covered her mouth, tears shimmering in her eyes. Aarav looked down, his hands stilled mid-motion over the remaining materials.
I… exhaled quietly and knelt a little. "What's your name?"
"Leo."
"Leo," I repeated softly. "If you dare to do this… then I'll make sure no one sees you as just a child."
I stood and gestured toward the soldier behind Thalgar. "Guide him to the small metal workbench. Give him light tools—nothing too dangerous."
Then I turned to Kael. "And one more thing."
He looked at me with hopeful eyes.
"I can't make promises… This world is too full of variables we can't control. But if I find your mother alive—we'll do everything we can to bring her back."
The execution began. One by one, they started separating and assembling the gunpowder Aarav had made, carefully packing it into the metal casings I'd prepared. Each of them worked with precision, following the instructions I'd given.
So did Leo.
He sat beside Zura, hands deft as he helped grind charcoal with a simple tool. Despite his age, his movements were precise and deliberate. Zura offered him soft, reassuring smiles, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder whenever his tension showed.
I watched them from a distance. In the quiet that hung between them, Leo spoke—his voice low, but it reached me clearly.
"I want to help until the end… If these traps can save people, if they can save my mother… then I have to do it."
My heart tightened. A child, that small, bearing a weight that heavy. I inhaled quietly and looked down, ashamed of the strength of his conviction.
"He's a strong one," Zura whispered as she passed me. "Just like you used to be."
I only nodded, unsure of how to respond.
Outside the tent, the sky had begun to dim. Heavy clouds loomed above like the weight that had been pressing against my chest all evening. I stood at the tent's entrance, glancing repeatedly at the pocket watch hidden beneath my robe. Finnian and Tavon had left at noon with the tribute and our ceasefire token—and Finnian was still gravely wounded. They were accompanied by two noblemen, both criminals who had concealed the truth about Greenreach.
"The negotiation's taking too long," I muttered.
Aarav looked up from where he was arranging crystal shards near a small flame. "Are you sure those two nobles can be trusted?"
I didn't answer right away. I wanted to believe. I needed to believe. But the truth gnawed at me. "The negotiation is a formality. All they had to do was deliver the tribute to Polophar and return. It should've been over an hour ago…"
Dante, lounging lazily while twirling a small mirror in his hand, glanced at me through its reflection. "Or maybe they're playing you."
"Finnian and Tavon? I doubt it," I said. "But the other two—Everett and Velmarth…"
Aarav's frown deepened as he turned away from his wooden table. "But why did you send them? Those are the same nobles who sold out their own people… and you sent them with Finnian, who's barely standing?"
His question hung in the air. Zura turned toward me. Even Leo paused his grinding.
I didn't answer immediately. The sky outside had grown darker, the red dusk fading to gray. I closed my eyes for a moment before speaking softly.
"Because if something goes wrong over there… I've already ordered Finnian to sacrifice them."
Aarav stiffened, eyes locking onto mine. "Sacrifice them?"
I nodded slowly. "Consider their lives a form of atonement. If it comes to it, Finnian has my permission to leave them behind—or use them to survive."
Dante, who had been lounging casually while playing with his mirror, now sat upright. He stared at me sharply through its reflection.
"You… You've thought this far ahead?" he murmured. "The boy who couldn't even talk to his own brother without stammering… planned this?"
"I had no choice," I cut in, my voice flat and cold. "My people had no choice. If someone must be sacrificed so that more might live, then I'll choose."
Aarav looked stunned. His lips parted, but no words came. He stared at me as if seeing a side of me he'd never imagined.
"Then why send Finnian?" he asked at last. "He nearly died this morning. You knew he wasn't ready, and yet you still sent him—with those two bastards?"
"Because Polophar has to believe our forces are weak," I said my voice low. "Half of our frontline strength is still in the infirmary, including one of our finest generals. I want them to feel secure... so we can make our next move."
Zura lowered her head, her hand still resting gently on Leo's shoulder. Dante leaned back again, but his eyes stayed locked on me.
"So cold, Your Highness," he murmured.
I took a deep breath and looked down at my hands.
"Not cold," I whispered. "Just... this world leaves no room for those who only know how to hope."
Silence fell over the tent, thicker than before. Even the fire in the small brazier seemed to hold its breath.
Then, faint footsteps echoed from outside—soft but deliberate. I looked up, and the others followed my gaze. Three—no, four—figures emerged through the thickening twilight mist. Tavon and Finnian, followed by Everett and Velmarth, slowly came into view.
They walked like people who had just crawled out of the belly of some monstrous beast. Tavon led, his steps steady but his gaze sharp and grim. Finnian beside him leaned heavily on a makeshift cane Tavon carried, dried blood still staining the side of his tunic. Behind them, Everett and Velmarth looked like they were walking dead.
Pale. Far paler than usual. Their eyes were bloodshot—not from fatigue alone, but from something far worse. They breathed heavily, faces blank as if everything they had—strength, pride, even fear—had been left behind in that negotiation hall.
Leo instinctively hid behind Zura. Aarav stood halfway as if to greet them but hesitated. I remained frozen, watching them as if witnessing spirits returning from the underworld.
They finally reached the entrance of the tent. Tavon gave a brief, solemn salute, but his eyes still carried the weight of something unspoken. Finnian, hoarse, tried to speak.
"We... we're back," he said softly.
"The negotiation?" I asked, trying to keep my tone controlled.
Velmarth trembled. His hands clutched the fabric of his sleeve. Everett didn't respond at all—he simply bowed his head, his whole body swaying as if it might collapse any second.
"Failed," Tavon answered at last. "But as you predicted, Your Highness, they accepted the tribute."
Their expressions didn't change. Still pale. Still hollow. As though the ceasefire had cost them more than gold and weapons.
I stepped forward, looking at each of them in turn. "What did you see there?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
No one answered.
Finnian turned his gaze away. Tavon clenched his fists. Velmarth took a step back. And Everett—for the first time since I'd known him—looked like a man drowning in the weight of every sin he'd ever committed.
The air in the tent grew colder.
And as I stared at the faces of those who had returned alive, I began to understand.
There was something far more terrifying than a failed negotiation.
Something they could not yet put into words.
Not yet.