Mornings were always an interesting time of the day. They began it, rousing people from their sleep, pushing them into the tasks at hand. If there was not a task pending from the day before, there would be a new one to handle with the rise of morning.

In what he liked to call his short life, Oyedi Mbaku hated mornings. He was not a morning person, had never been, and never expected that he would ever be. His father said it had been that way since he was a child. As an infant, whenever he awoke in the morning as an infant, he would first look around, as if taking in the world, then he would cry as if the very fact that he had been forced to wake up in the morning was some kind of an assault.

"Ever considered that I just hated waking up?" Oyedi had asked his father once upon a time, after the man had joked about his dislike for mornings.

"You never cried after your afternoon naps," had been his father's reply.

Oyedi had been a child that had hated mornings, and he had grown into an adult that hated mornings. It was as simple as that.

But as much as he hated mornings, they were inevitable. They came because they had to come. They were heralds that it was time to resume the art of growing, not just the act of it. They were, ultimately, necessary.

So, he rose every morning and forced himself to do the things that he had to do. It was as simple as that. And if he could do it every day as a child and a prince, then he could do it as a king, system sanctioned or not.

Oyedi adjusted the hood of the green cloak he was wearing. He pulled it a little further, hiding as much of his face as he could without drawing attention to himself, without looking suspicious. While he tried to hide his face, he made sure that he left enough space to still take in the things he wanted to take it. To see what had to be seen.

The morning sun cast light on everything around him. Its warm light spilled across the rooftops and streets of the town like a stern mother's loving embrace. The town stirred to life. Blacksmiths hammered steel in their smithies, rending the air with the soft din of clanging metals as steel was beat between hammer and anvil. Merchants were setting up their stalls for the day, some later than others, some early enough to already be haggling prices with early buyers that came with first light. Farmers were already rolling carts of fresh produce through the bustling environment, jepats feet splashing against puddles of water gathered from last night's rainfall.

Despite it all—the smell of freshly baked bread, the taste of metal in the air and perfumes that wrinkled Oyedi's nostrils—the most dominant scent was of damp soil, and the salt of a river nearby with a name he had been told once upon a time but could not bring himself to remember.

Oyedi's ears pricked at the sound of splashing water, and he looked down with a tired sigh. Admist all the attention he was paying to the city, he had stepped in a puddle of stagnant water.

"I hate this," he muttered, already mentally tired of the specific task that had brought him here. "It grates at me."

Beside him, a young man, no older than twenty years, smiled amiably. "It's just water, sir Aku."

"It is not the water that I hate." Oyedi looked at him. "It is mornings and tasks performed in the mornings."

The boy gave him an amused look. "You're not a morning person."

It was a statement of fact, and yet it somehow sounded as if it had wanted to come out as a question only to lose interest at the last moment.

"Have you just posed a question to me as if it is a statement, Ebu… Ebube?" he stuttered at the name. It was a simple enough name, but he had spent the first month of the last two months, reading the boy's name over his head so he had always called it by spelling.

"Ay-boo-bay," the boy, Ebube, corrected. "Not Ay-boob. Your Chief of foreign relations got it on the first try, just from reading it, too."

Oyedi made a dismissive gesture, grunting in mild annoyance. "Binna is from a weird part of the tribe with names similar to yours. You could give him the most confusing assortment of letters and he would still get the word they are trying to say right." He tsked like an old man. "It gets annoying sometimes."

"Because you can't do it?" Ebube asked. There was no inflection in his voice, no insinuation. Only genuine but shallow curiosity.

This was the reason Oyedi liked him. From another person, he would've taken the question as an affront. A challenge to himself as a person. But he had come to learn in the past few days that Ebube was a simple person. His sentences meant exactly what the words strung together to make them meant.

Oyedi shook his head. "Not because I can't do it…"

His voice trailed off as a child ran between him and Ebube, splashing water as they trod on the edge of the puddle he had stepped on.

Turning back, the boy, not older than seven, waved a hand at him in apology, but did not stop running.

"Sorry, mister!" he called out.

With his eyes still on the boy, Oyedi stepped gently to the side, increasing the space between him and Ebube. A girl of similar age to the boy leapt over the puddle of water, going between the both of them as the boy had.

She said nothing in acknowledgement of the both of them as she gave chase and the boy ran. He led her around a carriage that was sitting idly in the middle of the road, the hay upon it damp from rainfall. Oyedi watched them for a while as they ran and played, as the girl gave chase and the boy continued to evade her with his childish agility, leaping and jumping and ducking at just the right moment.

It was a while before he turned his attention away from the sight.

"What was I saying, boy?" he asked Ebube.

"That your Chief of Foreign Affairs does not annoy you because you cannot do what he does."

"Oh, yes." Oyedi rubbed his stubbled jaw. His beards were growing back in. "It annoys me because he cannot understand how that is not a normal thing to another person. He is like the intelligent who believes that intelligence of their level is not abnormal. No. A genius. He is like a genius who gets confused every time they find out that another person is not a genius." He resumed their walk and Ebube followed. "Have you ever been taught by a genius, Ebube?"

Ebube shook his head, brown eyes moving to the top of a tall building. Oyedi watched the boy take note of the enchantment hanging from the edge of the roof from a piece of wood. It was an enchantment of solitude. Someone had gone through extra measures to disguise it as something else, but Oyedi knew his enchantments, even if he was not an [Enchanter].

"It is like being taught by a fool," Oyedi said.

Ebube took his eyes from the roof to give him a quizzical look. "Being taught by a genius is like being taught by a fool?"

"A pompous one at that."

"How?"

"If you ask me what one plus one is, I will tell you two, correct?" Oyedi asked.

Ebube nodded. "Correct."

"And if you ask me how, I will tell you that one is a single item and when you bring another single item together, you get two items. I will then let you know that when a single item appears again, together they are called two."

Ebube gave him a flat look. "That's a bit…"

"Extra?" Oyedi asked with a smile.

Ebube nodded.

"But that is how you truly teach," Oyedi said. "It is a simplification of things. But ultimately, that is how you teach. When you teach a child, this is how you teach them. You give them the answer, tell them how and why it is the answer. Don't give them the answer and say that it is so because it is so."

"Agreed," Ebube said after a moment. "I assume that it is not the same when you are being taught by a genius."

Oyedi chuckled. "Not at all. Using the same example, if you ask a genius such a question, they will give you the answer. They will not give you the process, only the answer. They assume that you should already have an idea of the process. When you ask them how they got the answer, then they look at you as if you are the fool. When you ask for further explanation, they end up unable to explain it. Yet, they expect you to feel like the fool."

"Because the process and answer simply makes sense to them," Ebube mused.

"Exactly. They understand it on an instinctive level. It is not a hard knowledge to them, it is a soft knowledge. They cannot explain to you that the punch they throw draws power from the soles of their feet to the turning of their hips. They just throw a blow and look confused when you don't do it just right."

"You have beef with geniuses."

Oyedi paused, his eyes taking in a building with two men standing guard, one with a spear and the other with an axe. "What is beef?" he asked.

It was Ebube's turn to pause. "It is a slang where I come from. It means that you have an issue with someone. In this case, it means that you have an issue with geniuses."

Oyedi made an interested sound. "Beef." He let the word roll off his tongue. "I like this word. Yes, I have beef with geniuses."

"It is also the name of meat gotten from a specific livestock," Ebube added.

When Oyedi looked at him, wondering why meat was also an expression, he found the boy staring at a mother carrying her baby at her hip and buying a loaf of bread from a baker.

"What do you see?" he asked quietly.

Ebube's tone was hushed when he answered. "The buyer is giving information to the seller while pretending to buy a loaf of bread."

"A spy?"

Ebube shrugged. "Potentially."

"Leave them. They are of no consequence."

The boy gave him an odd look but did not press the matter. Instead, he followed Oyedi as they took a turn down another path. This path led them away from the active morning bustle into quieter paths.

They took in more of the town as they walked. The town had a lot of children allowed to run around unsupervised. Oyedi watched them wondering where their parents were. At first, he thought they were orphans, but they did not look like orphans or street children. They wore proper clothing already dirty from their morning activities.

"I have a question," Ebube said after a while.

Oyedi's eyes moved to look at him out of his periphery only to be obstructed by the flap of his hood.

"Ask."

"Why are you the one doing this?"

"Doing this?"

"This." Ebube gestured around like someone who was admiring the place. "Why are you out, instead of your subjects? You are a king."

"I still have subjects out and about, child," Oyedi said. "We are not the only ones here."

"I understand." Ebube nodded. "But why are you also out and about on this task?"

Oyedi didn't understand for a moment. It was another moment before it clicked. The child was asking him why he was doing such unimportant work.

"Because this is important," he answered.

"But you are more important," Ebube pointed out, arguing the point. "The subjects are expendable."

A bitter smile crossed Oyedi's face. "Everybody is expendable, child. Even kings. We are just not as easily expendable as those beneath us."

This new line of conversation awoke a worry that had lain dormant in Oyedi's mind. His people were as happy as they were unhappy with him. He was a tyrant in a way, a benevolent tyrant, but a tyrant nonetheless. The hate his people had for him was not morbid, but it was there.

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If anything was proof of it, it was the fact that his interface still did not bear the title of [King]. He was king in all but his interface. The people had not acknowledged him. They had not accepted him.

So, a worry continued to keep him up at night. There was a chance that somewhere out there, in the far reaches of his kingdom, there was someone with the title of monarchy in their interface because the people favored them more. A man who answered [King] or a woman who answered [Queen].

He doubted it, though. Logically speaking, it was impossible to bear the title without enough people knowing about it until it got to him. But Oyedi still worried, as his father before him had, and his father before him.

Oyedi came to an abrupt halt. Annoyed and worried as he now was, he would not be able to focus on the task at hand as much as he would like.

Next to him, Ebube stopped, staring off in a different direction. This was the reason he liked the boy, the reason why amongst the visitors from another world he had been charged with Ebube had gained his favor. Obedience and respect came naturally to the boy. He knew when to stop and start, how to say what he wanted to say as well as when to say it. He wasn't sycophantic or timid. He did not convince himself that he had respect when it was really fear.

Whoever had raised him in his world had done a far better job than whoever had raised the others.

He was also very attentive and observant.

Oyedi looked in the direction the boy was looking and found nothing of note. Only a few people. There was a young man, roughly his age, playing with four children. He rolled and laughed in the dirt as if he was one of them even though he clearly was not. A little away from the man and children was a girl.

Oyedi cocked his head to the side as he took her in. Older than the young man in the dirt, she still looked young. She had dark hair, as if the goddess of creation had taken a sliver of the night and woven it into the gift of hair for her. Her features were soft, and her face round. She was also short, but most women tended to be in comparison to a man.

As Oyedi watched, he noted the oxymoron that was an annoyed smile on her face.

"Does she catch your fancy?" he asked, drawing Ebube's attention.

Ever so mechanical, Ebube did not jerk in surprise.

"Yes," he said. It was a matter of fact. "She's beautiful."

Oyedi almost guffawed in laughter imagining the young man giving a girl a compliment with such an empty expression.

"Would you like to have her?" he asked. "It is not beyond the realm of possibilities. I could even teach you how. Then we can spend an extra hour or two with you trying to talk your way into her attention."

That was enough to get a look from Ebube.

"What?" Oyedi chuckled. "You don't believe you can do it?"

"That's not it," Ebube answered. "We are here to spy on a town, so that we can attack it and lay waste to it, in pursuit of a war with a kingdom that they have nothing to do with. They are, ultimately, collateral damage."

"And?"

"When you asked if I would like to have her, wooing her was not what I thought you would suggest."

"I see." Oyedi shrugged. "You did not look at her as if you wished to take her against her wishes. I can understand men who seek to defile and take a woman against her wish, but I am not one of such men. A woman who is conquered by force in the ways of such a relationship is not a woman conquered."

He placed a firm hand on Ebube's shoulder. It was an easy action since he was taller than him by almost a head.

"But there are weak men," he continued. "Men who would beat and rape a woman. I understand a weak man but I do not acknowledge one. You have only truly conquered a person when they willingly submit to you. And you don't strike me as a weak man, Ebube. You strike me as a conqueror. So… Would you like to have her?"

Ebube looked at him. "We are about to lay waste to them in a few days."

"We are." Oyedi nodded. "But that is that, and this is this. Perhaps you could even save her, if that becomes your wish."

Ebube took a moment to think about it. The moment lasted a little too long, testing Oyedi's patience, so he pressed down on the young man's shoulder, inflicting enough pressure to pull his attention back from his mind.

When Ebube was present once more, Oyedi asked, "Do you wish to have her?"

"Yes," Ebube nodded. "I would like that."

"Good." Oyedi smacked Ebube's shoulder, pleased. "Then I will teach you. First, you need confidence. Confidence, not arrogance."

"I have never been accused of arrogance."

"I don't find that hard to believe," Oyedi agreed. "You also need to look like you are interested. Mystery and a lack of interest only works when you already have their attention. If you walk up to her to talk to her, you have to look interested in talking to her, not desperate," he added quickly, raising a cautioning finger, "interested."

"And when I have her interest?"

Oyedi shrugged. "When you have her interest, then you make up an excuse to take your leave."

Ebube gave him a flat look.

"What?" Oyedi chuckled. "We don't invade them until a few days. You can always come back tomorrow, find her, and talk to her again. Today is all about gaining her attention. You gain her interest and find out how to run into her the next time you come here. Easy as that. Now go. And when you compliment her, smile, look like you mean it. Just because we are about to ruin their lives, it does not mean that you cannot spend some time with them."

He released Ebube and watched the young man hesitate before walking off towards the girl. As Ebube approached them, the children were the first to take notice of him. The young man with them was the second. Lastly was the lady.

Oyedi suppressed a grimace. If she was the last to notice him, then the young man had his work cut out for him. But the fact that something was now difficult was not a reason not to try.

Oyedi sighed as he watched the young man approach them. He wondered if the boy was something of a gift from the gods. He had a calm mind. He learnt the things that he had to learn easily enough. He understood and accepted everything the way they came.

He wondered just how much Ebube could accomplish with the [Guide] class he had unlocked.

Can he grow it to the [Protector] class?

With two months and already at level sixty-two at an unprecedented speed, there was no doubt the young man would be a name that would go down in history.

When Ebube got to the group, he raised a hand in casual greeting.

"Hi," he said.

Oyedi wondered if he remembered to smile.

The young man on the ground was the one that answered him. "Hello, stranger. What is a dude like you doing in a place like this so early?" He paused, took him in. "That's an interesting skin color. I take it you're not from here."

He got up and dusted his clothes—for all the good it did him. With a jovial smile, he held out his hand for a handshake.

"Hi, they call me the town jester around here," he introduced himself. "'Do-over' if you're one of the adults."

The lady hurried over and smacked him behind the head before Ebube could take his hand.

"So sorry for my brother's lack of common sense," she apologized with a slight bow. "He can be a jester every once in a while."

Oyedi wondered if the boy had the [Jester] class as he listened in on the conversation. It was a rare class, and only kings knew how truly terrifying the class was when its bearer intended it to be.

Ebube looked from the young man to his sister.

"But they call me that," the young man protested while the children waited patiently around them.

"When you meet a stranger, you introduce yourself with your actual name," she chided.

The man scratched his head. "This is the reason people keep thinking you're older than me."

The lady gave him a stern look, and he seemed to cow under the weight of it in good nature. After a moment, the sister sighed in resignation.

"Try again," she said.

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, the young man offered Ebube his hand again.

"Hi," he said. "My name's Zen, what's yours?"

…

"You're really not sending me out again?" Fjord asked.

Aiden paused, giving him a confused look. "Would you like me to send you out again?"

He gestured around them for emphasis. They were currently in the woods, surrounded by tall and fat trees with leaves as large as a man's head. They had barks so thick that leaving a mark on them with a swing of the blade was already an achievement of its own.

The woods had a famous name: the Giant's Garden.

It was interesting enough because giants were not as gigantic. At least they weren't large enough to view the place as an actual garden. On an average, a giant stood as tall as ten feet. The really tall giants could go as high as twelve. As for the truly gigantic, giants tended to attain that level of size through the mixture of traits and skills.

Stories claim that the size they attained through traits and skills was their original size. However, as was the case with most non-human species, they fell under the [Curse of Humanity] trait, which had its effects.

Aiden folded his arms over his chest and rested his back against one of the trees. Valdan was off somewhere practicing the use of his sword. Aiden could hear the faint thumping sound of the knight's sword striking against trees. It was not as rhythmic as it usually was. But it was to be expected when what you were attacking was almost impossible to cut through.

"So, I'm not going anywhere?" Fjord asked.

Aiden's jaw dropped. "What in the name of all that is holy did I just say?" He rubbed a tired hand down his face. "Fjord, if I send you out to do anything right now, what would you be able to achieve? We are outside Bandiv, technically in the middle of nowhere. Who knows what monsters lurk out there?"

He knew what monsters lurked out there.

"Who knows what monsters lurk in here?" Fjord mumbled.

Aiden cocked a brow. "Is that sass, Fjord?" His brows shot up in incredulity. "Are you giving me sass?"

Fjord snapped to attention. "No, sir!"

Looking to his left, then his right, Aiden scratched his head. Valdan was not nearby and neither was Ted.

To calm himself, Aiden took a deep breath. "Alright," he said, ignoring the small twitch he saw at the corner of Fjord's mouth. The boy was enjoying himself. "You want something, Fjord. What is it?"

Fjord was hesitant, refusing to meet Aiden's gaze.

"Spit it out," Aiden groaned. "I won't know it until you say it."

"You won't get mad?"

Aiden wasn't sure if this was how Ted felt in the past when he used to hesitate to ask him for something and kept dancing around the matter.

"As long as it is within reason."

Fjord relaxed, then scratched his forearm timidly. "My class."

"That's not a request."

"You promised to help me with my class."

Aiden raised a finger. "Correction. I promised to see what I could do to help you with your class."

Fjord deflated, shoulders slumping. "I'm guessing you weren't able to come up with anything."

Aiden had a few ideas dancing around in his head, but to implement any of them, there were things that he needed to know.

"To help you with your class, I'll need to know your skills."

"That's simple, I've got two." Fjord made a gesture with his hand. "[Unsure Odds] and [Gambler's Heart]."

His interface appeared between him and Aiden.

[Name - Fjord]

[Species- Human]

[Age – 18]

[Class- Gambler Lvl 18]

[Class Skill]

[Gambler's Heart (Mastery 8.73%)], [Unsure Odds (Mastery 11.09%)]

Aiden looked from the brief summary to Fjord.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to just show it to me like that?"

Fjord shrugged. "At this point, I'll show it to anyone if I think they can help. It's just two skills and I'm not a threat to anyone. Doesn't matter."

That made sense. If someone was going to train you, they needed to know everything that you were capable of.

"What does this [Gambler's Heart] do?" he asked, pointing at it as if operating a holographic projector.

"Spikes my heart rate mostly," Fjord answered. "It's like fear or anticipation. You know that feeling you get when you're about to take a risk you know you shouldn't take because you'll most likely fail but still want to take it because if it succeeds it's going to be real big even if the chances of it succeeding are very small?"

Aiden looked at him. "Use your commas, Fjord. They exist for a reason."

Fjord turned his face, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry."

"So, basically, it's an adrenaline boost," Aiden summarized. "Is it passive or active?"

"Active. If I activate it, I start to get that feeling, my heart starts to beat in my ear. Usually, if I'm already in that state and I activate it, it kind of triples."

As much as that sounded like a gambler's reaction according to Fjord's explanation, Aiden saw it more as a combat ability. Basically adrenaline boosted physical attributes in a normal person. It motivated your fight or flight reactions. It gives you more energy. It helps you pull out more of what you are capable of even in a world like Nastild where your abilities are already quantified for you.

That's one combat capability, he noted.

"And [Unsure Odds]?" he asked.

"It's like a game of dice," Fjord answered, not as confident in it as he had been in [Gambler's Heart]. "I kind of make a bet with myself. It's the real gambling skill. if I win the bet, I get a reward."

Aiden leaned back, folding his arms. "For example?"

Fjord paused, looked around. "For example, I genuinely don't believe that I can climb this tree to the top. However, if I activate the skill, I can make a bet that I can climb the tree to the top."

"If you fail?"

"Sometimes I get a momentary punishment. Most times I have no idea what the punishment will be until I get it. Sometimes I don't get any punishment at all."

"I see."

"Sometimes I get an extra bet."

Aiden raised his brow at that. "An extra bet?"

"For example, the bet will be that I can reach the top. I get a reward for reaching the top but get a punishment or nothing at all for not reaching the top." Fjord looked up at the tree. "I could get a sudden addition regarding punishments in the event that I fall."

"You quite literally play with luck," Aiden chuckled, unable to help himself. It was a broken class, and not in a good way. "What's the greatest reward you've ever gotten?"

"Two ability points to my speed stat for three days."

Aiden let out a low whistle. "That's something. What's the worst?"

"Zero dexterity for thirty minutes."

The urge to ask what the bet that had given him such a consequence was but ignored it when he caught sight of Ted marching his way up to him. He had an annoyed look on his face.

I know he hates the whole staying in the woods thing, but it can't be that bad.

Ted's attention was fixed on him so Aiden gestured Fjord to the side with a discreet wave of his hand. Fjord obeyed without hesitation, stepping aside, and Aiden stepped forward.

"You good?" he asked as he approached a still annoyed Ted.

Ted shook his head, still stomping forward. "Not one bit."

Aiden braced himself for impact, but when Ted got to him, nothing happened. He simply stopped in front of him and leaned in for a whisper.

He said nothing.

Aiden cocked a questioning brow. "Teddy?"

"I have an important question, and I need an honest answer."

"You'll get what you get, brother."

Ted groaned. "Fair." His voice dropped lower. "How much of what happened to us before time was turned back do you remember?"

He looked skittish, as if his life depended on the answer.

"Bits and pieces," Aiden answered, eyes sliding over to Fjord and back. "Nothing too grand. Why?"

As if noticing their need for privacy, Fjord took a few steps farther away, then looked up a tree. Aiden wondered if he was trying to make a bet as regards climbing the tree.

"One moment," he told Ted, then looked at Fjord. "If you try to climb the tree, how far do you think you'll get?"

Fjord looked up again. "Thirty feet."

"Use the skill. Climb the tree," Aiden instructed. "Bet you'll get to the top and do your best to get to the top."

Fjord's eyes grew wide. "What if I fall?"

"I'll catch you. I want to see the skill in action."

Fjord sucked in a deep breath, frowned. Then he stared at the air, obviously reading his interface, and his jaw dropped. But there was a twinkle in his eyes.

Aiden found himself wanting to know what exactly his interface had given him.

"What's that about?" Ted asked.

Aiden returned his attention to him. "Teaching the kid how to use his skills. He has the [Gambler] class."

"How does tha—you know what, never mind. Back to my question."

"You haven't asked it yet."

"I know." Ted frowned as if he was worried about his question. "I'm kind of stuck in a bit of a quagmire—giggidy—and I think the answer to the question might help."

Aiden just stared at him.

Ted gave him a completely innocent look. "What?"

"Giggidy? Really?"

"It's not my fault," Ted protested. "Blame it on Quagmire."

Aiden shook his head. "I'm not even going to justify that with a response."

"Can I ask the question?" Ted repeatted.

"Sure." Aiden took a deep breath. "I just hope I'll have the answer."

Ted sucked in a very deep breath, then let it out. He opened his mouth, closed it, then sucked in another deep breath before letting it out.

"So, I'm in a bit of a bind, and I think I can get out of it if I know just one thing."

"And what is that?"

Ted hesitated, pouted, frowned.

"What is it, Ted?" Aiden pressed, growing confused.

When Ted asked the question, he wished he hadn't pressed.

"What title did I gain before we encountered the Time Mage? What did I become?"

Shit.

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