Marcus barely dodged. The dagger grazed his shoulder, cutting through cloth and skin. He rolled backward, putting distance between them.

"Not bad," the assassin said. "Most people don't dodge my first strike."

She attacked again, both daggers moving in a deadly dance. Marcus blocked with his sword, but the impact sent shocks through his arms. She was much stronger.

"You just broke through," the woman continued, circling him. "Your energy is unstable. You can't control your new power yet. This fight is already over."

She was right. Marcus's body felt strange, like wearing clothes that didn't fit properly. His energy surged unpredictably, sometimes too much, sometimes too little.

But he couldn't give up. If she reported to Cassian, everyone at the academy would be in danger.

"I don't need perfect control to beat you," Marcus said, trying to sound confident.

The assassin laughed. "Brave words. Let's test them."

She moved like a shadow, appearing beside Marcus in an instant. Her dagger thrust toward his ribs. Marcus twisted, but not fast enough. The blade pierced his side.

Pain exploded through him. Blood soaked his shirt.

"First blood to me," the assassin said. "Want to surrender now?"

Marcus gritted his teeth. "Never."

He counterattacked, his sword moving in patterns he'd practiced thousands of times. But his movements were sloppy. His new power made everything feel wrong.

The assassin dodged easily. "You're wasting energy. At this rate, you'll collapse before I kill you."

She was toying with him. Testing him. Why?

Then Marcus understood. She wanted to see how strong he really was. Information was only valuable if it was accurate. She needed to gauge his potential before deciding what to do with him.

If that was true, he had a chance.

Marcus stopped attacking. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in his side.

"What are you doing?" the assassin asked, confused.

Marcus focused inward. His energy was like a wild horse, bucking and fighting. He needed to calm it. Control it.

He remembered Grandfather Octavius's words. Don't force it. Understand it.

His breathing slowed. The chaotic energy began to settle. Not perfect, but better.

When Marcus opened his eyes, they glowed faintly with golden light.

The assassin's expression changed. "That energy... what are you?"

Marcus didn't answer. He attacked, but this time his movements were smoother. His sword sang through the air, creating arcs of condensed energy.

The assassin blocked, but her confident smile was gone. "Impossible. You just stabilized your breakthrough in the middle of a fight?"

Marcus pressed the advantage. His sword strikes came faster, each one carrying more power. The unstable energy that had been his weakness became his strength, adding unpredictability to his attacks.

The assassin retreated, actually defending now instead of playing. "You're a monster. A true prodigy."

Their weapons clashed again and again. Sparks flew in the moonlight. The forest around them suffered from their battle. Trees fell. Earth cracked. The noise would surely wake someone soon.

"Enough!" the assassin suddenly said, jumping back. "I've seen what I needed to see."

Marcus kept his sword raised, ready for a trick. "What?"

"You're definitely the lost prince. No ordinary orphan has that kind of power or that energy." She sheathed her daggers. "And you're worth far more alive than dead."

"You're not going to fight anymore?"

"Why would I? I got my information. Besides, killing you now would be a waste." She smiled strangely. "You're going to shake the entire empire, boy. I want to see how that plays out."

"So you'll tell Cassian where I am?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on who offers the better deal." The assassin turned to leave, then paused. "Word of advice. The tournament in six months? Don't go. It's a trap. Cassian will have dozens of assassins waiting. You're not ready yet."

"Why warn me?"

"Because I'm a professional, not a fanatic. I kill for money, not loyalty. And dead princes are boring. Living ones cause chaos." She disappeared into the shadows. "We'll meet again, Marcus Aurelius. Try not to die before then."

Then she was gone, as if she'd never been there.

Marcus collapsed to his knees, exhausted. The fight had drained him completely. His breakthrough was still too new. He'd pushed himself too hard.

Blood dripped from his wounds. Nothing fatal, but painful. He needed to get back before someone found him like this.

He struggled to his feet and started walking. Each step hurt. His vision blurred. Maybe he'd pushed too far this time.

"Marcus!"

Lydia's voice. She ran toward him with a lantern, her face full of worry. "I felt the energy surge and came to check. What happened? You're hurt!"

"Training accident," Marcus lied weakly.

"Don't lie to me!" Lydia supported his weight. "You're covered in knife wounds. Someone attacked you."

Before Marcus could respond, Grandfather Octavius appeared with several teachers. His face was grim.

"Marcus, tell me the truth. Was it an assassin?"

Marcus hesitated, then nodded. No point lying now.

Octavius's expression darkened. "Then it's begun. They know who you are."

"Grandfather, what are you talking about?" Lydia asked, confused.

"Not here. We need to get Marcus treated first." Octavius looked at Marcus with a mix of concern and something else. Respect? "But after that, boy, you're going to tell me everything. No more secrets."

They helped Marcus back to the academy. As they walked, Marcus realized something. The assassin could have killed him when he collapsed. She'd been close enough. But she'd left him alive.

Why? What game was she playing?

And more importantly, if Cassian had sent one assassin, more would follow. The academy wasn't safe anymore. Nowhere was safe.

Marcus looked at Lydia, who was crying as she held pressure on his wounds. At Grandfather Octavius, whose face showed genuine worry. At the teachers who'd rushed to help him.

These people cared about him. And because of that, they were in danger.

Theodore had been right. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. Marcus's choices affected everyone around him.

As they entered the medical building, Marcus made a decision. It was time to stop hiding. Time to stop lying. Time to face the truth about who he was and what that meant.

But first, he needed to survive his wounds and explain everything to the man who'd saved his life three years ago.

That conversation would be harder than any fight.

The academy healer worked quickly on Marcus's wounds. The knife cuts were deep but clean. Nothing vital had been damaged. Still, he'd lost a lot of blood.

"You're lucky," the healer said, wrapping bandages around his torso. "A few inches to the left and that blade would have pierced your lung. What kind of training accident causes knife wounds?"

"The dangerous kind," Grandfather Octavius answered from the doorway. "Leave us. I need to speak with Marcus alone."

The healer bowed and left. Lydia tried to stay, but Octavius shook his head. "You too, Rouxi. This is between Marcus and me."

"But Grandfather..."

"Please. Trust me."

Lydia left reluctantly, closing the door behind her. The room fell silent except for the sound of Marcus's breathing.

Octavius pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. For a long moment, he just looked at Marcus. His old eyes seemed to see everything.

"I've suspected for a while now," Octavius finally said. "But I wanted you to tell me yourself. So I'm asking directly. Are you Marcus Aurelius, the lost prince of the Aurelius Kingdom?"

Marcus's first instinct was to deny it. But he was tired of lying. Tired of hiding. And Octavius deserved the truth.

"Yes," Marcus said quietly. "I am."

Octavius nodded slowly, as if confirming something he already knew. "The river. The timing. Your age. Your talent. And those eyes. They're exactly like your father's."

"You knew my father?"

"I met him once, many years ago, when I still lived in the Celestial Domain. Alexander was... unusual. Powerful beyond measure, yet he chose to live as a mortal king. I never understood why." Octavius leaned forward. "Tell me what happened that night. The real story."

So Marcus told him everything. The coup. Watching his father die. His mother pushing him into the river. The golden light that saved him. The three years of hiding and training for revenge.

Octavius listened without interrupting. When Marcus finished, the old man was quiet for a long time.

"Cassian must pay for what he did," Marcus said. "That's why I need to get stronger. That's why I can't stop training."

"And then what?" Octavius asked. "After you kill Cassian? After you take back the throne? What will you do with all that hatred you've been feeding for three years?"

Marcus didn't have an answer.

"Revenge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die," Octavius said. "It will consume you if you let it. I know because I've walked that path."

"What do you mean?"

Octavius stood and walked to the window. "Why do you think I'm here, running a small academy in Silvermere? I used to be a Sky King warrior in the Celestial Domain. I had power, respect, a family. Then someone killed my son and his wife. Lydia's parents."

Marcus's eyes widened. He'd never known this.

"I hunted the killer for five years," Octavius continued. "I found him eventually. A minor lord who'd ordered the assassination over a political dispute. I killed him, his family, everyone connected to him. I thought it would bring me peace."

"Did it?"

"No. It brought me nothing but emptiness. The people I killed couldn't bring back my son. Revenge didn't heal my wounds. It just created new ones." Octavius turned back to Marcus. "That's when I came here. To start over. To teach the next generation. To do something meaningful instead of destructive."

"Are you saying I should forgive Cassian? After what he did?"

"I'm saying you should think carefully about what you're becoming. Right now, you're growing strong for the wrong reasons. That strength is hollow. It will crack under pressure."

Marcus wanted to argue, but he remembered his breakthrough. How he'd only succeeded when he stopped thinking about revenge and started thinking about protecting others.

"What should I do then?" Marcus asked.

"Stop training for revenge. Start training for justice. There's a difference." Octavius sat back down. "Cassian is a tyrant. He's probably hurting many people right now. Your kingdom suffers under his rule. That's what should drive you. Not personal vengeance, but protecting others from the same pain you experienced."

It made sense. But it was hard to let go of the hatred that had kept him going for three years.

"I'll try," Marcus said. "But I can't promise anything."

"That's all I ask." Octavius smiled slightly. "Now, about the assassin. Did she say anything useful?"

"She said the tournament is a trap. Cassian will have assassins waiting for me there."

"Of course he will. But you still need to go."

Marcus looked surprised. "Why? If it's a trap..."

"Because hiding won't keep you safe. Cassian knows where you are now. If you don't show strength, he'll send armies to destroy this academy and everyone in it. But if you go to the tournament and win, you become too public to assassinate quietly. You become a symbol."

"A symbol of what?"

"Hope. Resistance. The rightful heir challenging the usurper." Octavius's eyes gleamed. "Cassian's rule isn't as stable as it looks. Many nobles remember your father fondly. Many people suffer under his taxes and laws. They need someone to rally behind. You could be that someone."

Marcus hadn't thought about it that way. He'd been so focused on personal revenge that he'd missed the bigger picture.

"But I'm only ten years old. Who would follow a child?"

"A child who's already an Earth King warrior? A child who carries royal blood and his father's eyes? Don't underestimate the power of symbols, Marcus." Octavius stood. "Rest now. We have six months to prepare. I'll train you properly. Not just in combat, but in strategy, politics, and leadership. If you're going to challenge Cassian, you need to be more than just strong."

After Octavius left, Marcus lay in bed thinking. The old man's words had shaken something inside him. Maybe revenge wasn't enough. Maybe he needed a better reason to fight.

The door opened quietly. Lydia slipped in, tears on her face.

"I heard everything," she whispered. "You're really a prince? And all this time you were planning revenge?"

Marcus looked at her, guilt washing over him. "I'm sorry I lied to you."

"I don't care about the lies." Lydia sat on the edge of his bed. "I care that you were suffering alone. That you carried all this pain by yourself when I could have helped."

"How could you help? This is my burden."

"No, it's our burden now." Lydia took his hand. "You're my brother, Marcus. Not by blood, but by choice. Whatever you face, you don't face it alone anymore. Understand?"

Looking at her determined face, Marcus felt something warm in his chest. Not the burning fire of revenge, but something gentler. Something like hope.

"Thank you, Lydia."

She smiled through her tears. "Now rest. You look terrible."

As she left, Marcus closed his eyes. For the first time in three years, he didn't dream of revenge. He dreamed of a future where he protected people instead of destroying enemies.

It was a small change, but it was a start.

Outside the window, hidden in the shadows, Felix the spy watched and listened. He'd heard everything. The prince's true identity. His plans for the tournament. The old man's training.

This information would make him rich beyond imagination.

He hurried away to write another report, unaware that the assassin from earlier was watching him from a rooftop, a thoughtful expression on her scarred face.

Felix ran through the dark streets toward his rented room. His heart beat fast with excitement. The information he had was worth a fortune.

The lost prince was alive. He was at Iron Sword Academy. He was already an Earth King warrior at ten years old. King Cassian would pay anything for this news.

Felix reached his room and locked the door. He lit a candle and took out paper and ink. His hands shook as he started writing.

Your Majesty, I have proof. The boy Marcus is your nephew, Prince Marcus Aurelius. He has reached Earth King level and plans to attend the tournament. He wants revenge for...

Someone knocked on the door.

Felix stopped writing. Who would visit this late? He hid his letter under other papers.

"Who is it?" he called.

"A friend with information," a woman's voice said.

Felix relaxed a little. Maybe another spy? He opened the door slightly, keeping the chain locked.

The scarred woman from the forest stood outside. Before Felix could move, she pushed hard. The chain broke and Felix fell backward.

"What... who are you?" Felix grabbed for his knife.

The woman was faster. She caught his hand and twisted. Felix cried out as his knife fell.

"I don't like competition," the woman said calmly. She closed the door. "You're Felix. You spy for Cornelius. You've been watching the boy for weeks."

"I don't know what you mean!"

"Don't lie. I followed you from the academy." She pushed him into a chair. "Listen carefully. You will stop spying on Marcus. You will write one last letter to Cassian. Tell him the boy is just talented, nothing special. Then you leave this area and never come back."

"What if I refuse?"

The woman touched her dagger. "Then someone finds your body tomorrow morning. Your choice."

Felix went pale. "Why do you care what I report? You're an assassin too. We should work together."

"We're not on the same side. I work for money. Right now, keeping the boy alive pays better than turning him in."

"Cassian offers ten thousand gold for information about the prince. How is that not good money?"

The woman smiled coldly. "I think about the future. Cassian is paranoid. If I give him the boy's location, he'll probably kill me later. No witnesses. But if Marcus grows strong and defeats Cassian, he'll need skilled people. People who helped him. That's worth more than ten thousand gold."

Felix's mind worked quickly. She was right. Cassian killed people who knew his secrets. But betting on a ten year old against a king?

"You're betting on the wrong person," Felix said. "The boy is talented but he's still a child. Cassian has armies and powerful friends. Marcus will die before he threatens the throne."

"Maybe. But I know real talent when I see it. That boy isn't normal. His energy, that golden light, how fast he learns? He's special." The woman leaned closer. "Marcus has something most warriors don't have."

"What?"

"A reason to keep fighting when everything looks hopeless. Those people survive."

Felix thought about his choices. This woman would kill him if he said no. But if he agreed and Cassian found out he lied, Cassian would kill him too. Either way, he was dead.

Unless he was smart about this.

"Fine," Felix said. "I'll write what you want. But I want something back."

"You get to live. That's enough."

"No. I want real payment. If you're betting on Marcus and he wins, I want a job in his court. A real position with protection."

The woman looked at him, then laughed. "You're smarter than you look. Alright. If Marcus takes the throne and I can recommend people, I'll mention you. But only if you actually help him now instead of spying."

"Help him how?"

"Give Cassian false information. Make him think Marcus is weaker than he really is. Make him underestimate the boy. Can you do that?"

Felix considered it. Playing both sides was dangerous. But it might be his only way to survive. "Yes. I can do that."

"Good." The woman stepped back. "Write your letter now. Make it believable. Tell Cassian the boy is talented but only a third class warrior. Say he's no threat."

Felix picked up his pen with shaking hands. He wrote the false report while the woman watched. When he finished, she took the letter.

"I'll make sure this reaches the messengers. You have one more job."

"What?"

"Stop reporting to Cornelius too. Or tell him Marcus is just a talented student, nothing more. If Cornelius keeps digging, his son Lucius will get suspicious. We don't need that yet."

"Cornelius won't believe me. He saw what Marcus did to Dante."

"Then say Marcus got lucky. Make up a story about Dante being injured first. I don't care. Just keep Cornelius quiet for six months." The woman walked to the door. "After the tournament, everything changes."

"Wait," Felix said. "What's your name? If we're working together, I should know."

The woman stopped. "Call me Diana. And we're not working together. You work for me. Remember that."

She left into the night. Felix sat alone with his thoughts. He'd just betrayed the king he'd served for years. There was no going back.

Felix looked at the candle on his desk. He'd always survived by choosing the winning side. The question was, had he chosen right? Or had he just killed himself?

The game had changed. And Felix was now playing for his life.

Diana moved across the rooftops easily. Felix was a coward and a traitor, but he'd be useful. False information to Cassian would give Marcus time.

She thought about the boy's power. That golden energy wasn't normal. It was divine protection. Only beings from the highest realms could do that. Which meant Marcus's parents might not be dead.

Diana smiled. This situation was getting interesting. And interesting situations meant profit.

She just had to choose the right side before the real war started.