The King could fall at any moment. My head was throbbing, and my eyes wouldn't stop itching, a sign that my body was pushing its limits.
"Sebastian," I called out. "Take Olivia to see Ezekiel's mom. She's the only one who can make the antidote for the Curse of the Classless. After that, tell the Golden Mask to find the last person I need. The final piece."
"Yes, young master," he replied, bowing before disappearing into the shadows.
I leaned back, my mind screaming for rest. The exhaustion was a heavy fog, but then everything turned cold.
[ERROR] [ERROR]
A jagged, red warning flashed across my vision. My head snapped back as a strange sensation flooded my veins.
[The Mastermind is taking over...]
My posture straightened, and my expression flattened into something icy and alien. A voice that wasn't quite mine whispered into the empty room.
"Whoa... this body is a real piece of junk," the 'Mastermind' muttered, flexed my fingers, and tested the joints. "He'll have to stay asleep inside for a while. I need to turn this weak frame into something decent while I have control."
The Mastermind had fully taken control. As he tested Erik's limbs, a sharp, predatory smile broke across his face. The deep blue eyes that the children trusted suddenly flared, turning a cold, glowing gold.
"I need to fix this frame," he whispered.
With a sudden burst of speed, he sprinted toward the training grounds where Ezekiel was practicing.
"Hey, kid. Come here. Let's spar," the Mastermind said, tossing a practice sword at Ezekiel.
Ezekiel caught the sword but didn't move. He stared at the man in front of him, his brow furrowed in confusion. The face belonged to his "Mister," but the energy was all wrong. It was sharper, colder, and more dangerous.
"Who are you?" Ezekiel asked, his voice low. "You look like him, but you aren't him."
"Pfft. Spare me the crying, kid. Come and get me," the Mastermind barked.
He didn't wait for an answer. He lunged forward, swinging the sword with a brutal efficiency Erik never had. Left with no choice, Ezekiel raised his own blade and swung back, the heavy clash of wood and steel echoing through the courtyard.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Mastermind Combat Mode: Active.Current Strength: Maxed
Goal: Stress-test the body's limits.
Ezekiel was much stronger, but the Mastermind moved like a ghost, predicting every move before it happened.
"Heh, you didn't even last a minute," the Mastermind sneered, tossing the sword to the ground in boredom. A chilling smile crossed his face, one that lacked any hint of human emotion. "You know what would be fun? Killing."
He stopped, his expression souring as he looked down at the floor. Erik's body buckled, and a violent cough sent a spray of dark blood onto the pavement. "Tsk. This body doesn't have enough power to hold me," he muttered, wiping the blood with a shaking hand.
"Get out of Mister's body!" Ezekiel yelled. His eyes were bright red, and tears streamed down his face as his mana flared in a desperate, protective rage.
The Mastermind just looked at him with a cold, mocking gaze. "Listen, kid. I'm doing my best to help him. You should be thanking me." He felt the world starting to tilt as Erik's consciousness fought to return to the surface. "Time's up. Until we meet again, kid."
As the words left his lips, the golden glow in his eyes faded back to blue. Erik's body went limp, and he fainted right there on the training ground.
He lay on the cold ground, lifeless and pale. Sebastian and Olivia, who had been coming to find him, froze at the sight. Without a word, Sebastian's face hardened with worry as he scooped Erik up and carried him back to his room. He barred the door, telling the kids to stay back while he began the grueling process of nursing him back to health.
One day passed. Then two. Then a week.
Seven days had gone by, and Erik still hadn't opened his eyes. The mansion felt like a tomb. His father, the General, would visit every night in the dead of silence, his golden eyes glowing with a mixture of rage and grief. The three kids, Ezekiel, Olivia, and Liam, refused to leave the hallway, sleeping on the floor just to be near him.
"Young Master, Young Miss... you must take your rest," Sebastian said softly, stepping out of the room. He looked at the three of them, gaunt, tired, and desperate. "I will stay beside him. There is no need to worry."
He offered a small, sad smile to comfort them. "When Master Erik finally wakes up and sees you all looking like this, he'll surely shout at me for not taking care of you properly. Please, for his sake, go and eat."
Inside the room, the "Mastermind" was silent, and Erik's soul was drifting in a void. But as Sebastian changed the damp cloth on his forehead, Erik's fingers finally twitched.
I sat up, the movement sending a dull ache through my head, but my body felt strangely sturdier, more grounded. Sebastian was halfway to the door when I spoke.
"Brother... what time is it?" I asked, punctuating the question with a long yawn.
Sebastian froze. The professional "Butler" mask he'd worn for years didn't just crack; it shattered. He turned around, his eyes wide and trembling.
"Master Erik... you must not call me that," he whispered. But even as he said it, the tears were already running down his cheeks. He crossed the room in a blur and pulled me into a fierce, suffocating hug.
"Oops. Right," I muttered, blinking into his shoulder. I had forgotten for a second that we were still playing the "Master and Servant" game for the rest of the world. "But what happened? What about the King? Why the dramatic embrace?"
Sebastian pulled back, still "ugly crying," though even with tears streaming down his face, his handsome disguise somehow stayed perfect. It was annoying, really.
"You fainted," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Right after you were sparring with Young Master Ezekiel. You've been... gone... for a whole week."
A week? If I had been out for seven days, the 72-hour timer on the King's poison was long gone.
"A week..." I looked at my hands. My Strength was now 35, and I could feel the difference in my grip. "Sebastian, stop crying and give me the status report. If the King fell while I was asleep, the Capital must be a nightmare right now."
Sebastian wiped his eyes with a silk handkerchief, his professional demeanor slowly returning, though his hands were still shaking.
"The King fell into a 'mysterious coma' four days ago, Master Erik. The palace is in total lockdown, and the Royal Guard is arresting anyone they suspect of treason. The city is on the brink of a civil war. And..." He hesitated, looking at the door. "Your father has been holding the estate's gates alone. He hasn't slept since you collapsed."
The weight of Sebastian's words hit me harder. The King wasn't just asleep; he was a martyr in the eyes of his followers, and the palace was looking for someone to burn. My father, the legendary Golden Lion, was the biggest target in the nation.
"So, they're moving already," I muttered, sliding out of bed. My legs felt solid. "They want to imprison the General to decapitate the Aurelion name before the civil war truly begins."
Sebastian nodded, his eyes sharpening as he shifted back into his role as my shadow. "The Royal Guard is at the border of the estate. They haven't crossed yet because they fear your father's wrath, but they've issued the decree. They're calling it 'Protective Custody' for the General."
I let out a cold, sharp laugh. "Protective custody. They want to put the Lion in a cage so they can skin the cubs."
I looked at the door. I could hear the muffled sounds of the kids outside, their hushed, anxious whispers. They had no idea the world was ending outside those gates.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Current Objective: Prevent the General's Arrest.
Time to Royal Guard Breach: 2 Hours.
Current TP: 150
"Sebastian, stop the tears," I said, "If they want my father to be imprisoned, then I will give them a show they'll never forget. But it won't be my father they take."
I stood tall, adjusting my sleeves. My body was tired, but my mind was a razor.
"Call the kids in. Now. And tell Liam to get ready. If the throne is vacant, it's time for the True King to start acting like one."