Out on the open sea, a military vessel sliced through the waves, its bow pointed toward Niceland. The Xandrian flag fluttered proudly in the salty breeze. On the upper deck, Prince Xhiva reclined at a table piled high with delicacies, feasting without restraint.

  Chefs emerged from the galley, presenting silver trays. As the lids lifted, the rich aroma of grilled meat mingled with the ocean air. Roy stepped onto the deck and inhaled deeply before approaching the prince.

  “Greetings, Prince,” he said with a respectful nod.

  Xhiva didn’t look up. He merely continued chewing, then gestured lazily toward the food. “It’s all mine. If you want something, ask the chefs for your own order.”

  Roy pulled up a chair anyway and sat beside him. “Will we have enough for the return trip?”

  Xhiva barked out a laugh so sudden he nearly choked on a chunk of meat. “We’ve got supplies to last us years!” he said, thumping his chest and grinning. “Though I doubt we’ll need them that long. This mission will be over before you know it.”

  He raised a grilled mutton leg triumphantly, his chair rocking with overconfidence. “With your skill and my brilliance, who could possibly stand in our way?”

  As if summoned by fate, a blur shot overhead—Squeaky, crackling with static like a bolt of lightning. The wind whipped, the clouds parted, and sea spray misted the deck.

  Just as quickly as he came, the bird was gone.

  “WHAT IN THE—?!” Xhiva yelped, falling out of his chair.

  Roy stood, eyes tracking the streak across the sky. “Was that… Squeaky?”

  Xhiva scrambled upright, brushing off his cloak. “If that was Squeaky…”

  “…then something’s happened at Niceland,” Roy said grimly.

  Xhiva’s eyes gleamed. “And if we follow the direction he came from…”

  “…we’ll find Niles,” Roy finished.

  Xhiva laughed, triumph ringing in his voice. “This mission just keeps getting easier!” He raised a goblet of wine. “I can’t believe how badly the Xargian Guard fumbled this. The incompetence of commoners is endless!”

  He looked to Roy. “Come! Drink with me!”

  Roy filled his goblet and held it high.

  “For our victory!” Xhiva declared.

  Roy smirked and clinked his goblet against the prince’s. “For our victory.”

  Meanwhile, Squeaky continued his high-speed flight, cutting through the skies toward the Xandrian capital.

  It took a full day, but the exhausted bird reached the castle at dawn.

  In the courtyard below, Prince Xander stood shirtless in the golden light, muscles lean and taut as he swung his dark longsword in deliberate, graceful arcs.

  “Too slow,” he muttered, adjusting his stance. He imagined an opponent before him and lunged forward with a wide, slicing strike. “Not enough power.”

  Then—a high-pitched squeak from above.

  He looked up, brushing his dark hair aside. “Squeaky?”

  The bird descended and landed on his outstretched hand, then nestled on his shoulder.

  At the moment of contact, Winston’s voice echoed in Xander’s mind:

  “Niles is injured—we need the strongest healing potions!”

  Xander abandoned his training instantly. In one swift motion, he snatched his coat from a nearby bench—didn’t bother closing it—and sprinted toward the castle.

  Two guards at the entrance stepped aside as the prince barreled past, their gazes lingering not on the bird that trailed him, but on Xander himself. Hadn’t the prince spent enough time charging around shirtless?

  Inside the supply room, Xander began tearing through shelves and drawers. “Where are the good ones?” he muttered, rifling through vials, papers, and crates.

  He found a note.

  “All major health potions requisitioned by Prince Xhiva. For diplomatic voyage."

  Xander groaned. “Seriously? All of them?”

  He paused only long enough to think. “Squeaky, come with me!”

  The bird zipped after him as he stormed through the corridors—straight into Xemena’s room.

  She looked up from her book, unamused. “Brother. Do you ever remember to knock?”

  “I need a health potion,” Xander said, breathless.

  Xemena sighed, setting her book aside. She moved to open one of her drawers—until Xander added, “It’s for Niles. He’s hurt.”

  Her hand stopped. Slowly, she closed the drawer.

  Xander’s eyes widened. “Wait—what are you—”

  “Brother,” she said, voice low and dangerous. “If you truly wanted to help him… you should’ve kept that to yourself.” Her gaze sharpened like a dagger. “Now leave.”

  “Xemena, please—”

  “LEAVE!” she snapped, flinging the book at him. Xander ducked effortlessly.

  Squeaky let out a desperate squeak, flapping its wings in protest.

  Xemena folded her arms. “Don’t bother. I’m more of a cat person.”

  Squeaky froze mid-air, visibly stunned.

  “Xemena,” Xander tried again, softer this time. “Why?”

  She exhaled and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look around you, brother. The entire realm wants that man dead.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Her leg crossed elegantly over the other as her tone cooled. “So let me ask you instead—why save him?”

  Xander stood still, his voice steady. “All my life, I’ve had reasons for every move I make.”

  He looked her dead in the eye. “But this time… it’s not just reason. It’s something else too. A feeling.”

  Xemena let out a short chuckle, but her amusement faded quickly. “That’s it?” she said. “Humor me, brother. What exactly is this feeling? And don’t insult me with nonsense—I’m not a fool.”

  “I know you’re not,” Xander replied. “It’s just… I have this feeling we’ll regret it.”

  Xemena burst out laughing. “Regret? That’s your great insight?” she said between cackles. “Please, Xander. Let the monsters on that island tear him apart. Frankly, I’d appreciate it. Would make Xhiva’s trip a lot shorter.” She exhaled and composed herself. “So what’s your actual reason?”

  Xander lifted Squeaky gently. “This bird.”

  He scratched under its beak, and Squeaky chirped softly. “Niles’s value as a person is directly tied to Squeaky. This bird has a skill—one we need. Summoned creatures are linked to their master’s life force. If Niles dies, the bird disappears.”

  Xemena’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

  Xander nodded. “Squeaky can deliver messages at lightning speed to anyone he’s made a physical connection with. Imagine the strategic potential in a battle. Instant communication across miles.”

  Xemena stood and approached the bird. “And how does one make a connection?”

  “By touching it,” Xander said.

  Squeaky puffed up, clearly expecting cuddles.

  Xemena reached out, then hesitated. “Wait. If I touch it… that means Niles could contact me whenever he wants, doesn’t it?”

  Xander lit up. “Yes! That’s exactly it. Brilliant, right?”

  Her hand shot back like she’d be about to touch fire. “No thank you. I’m not giving that idiot an opportunity to pester me.”

  Squeaky looked visibly wounded by her words, but it wasn’t enough to move the princess.

  “Now leave,” she said coolly, pushing Xander out the door. Squeaky flapped out after him, and a sharp click of the lock sounded behind them.

  Xander sighed, glancing at the bird. “Well. I’m sure we can find a health potion somewhere else,” he muttered, eyes still on the sealed door. “But I doubt we’ll find one as potent as the kind my sister hoards.”

  He knocked once.

  “No,” came her voice from the other side.

  Xander looked at Squeaky. “Alright, that was the polite attempt.”

  He cracked his knuckles and stretched. “Would you mind giving me a little space?”

  Squeaky blinked, then obediently fluttered down the hall and settled on the floor.

  Xander smiled. “That’ll do just fine.”

  Xander exhaled slowly, his gaze sharpening. Then, almost like a whisper, he muttered,

  “One-man army.”

  Power surged through him in an instant, his body almost glowing with energy. He stepped forward and gently placed his palm against the wooden door.

  Then—with a flick of his wrist—the door exploded inward, flying off its metal hinges like it had been struck by a divine hammer.

  From inside, Xemena blinked at the destruction. “What is it with everyone in this castle breaking doors lately?”

  Before she could move, Xander zipped forward, enhanced speed blurring his silhouette as he reached into her drawer and yoinked a glowing vial.

  “Thank you, sister,” he said, cheerful.

  “XANDER!” she snapped, fury rising.

  He offered a charming bow. “Looking forward to dinner,” he called over his shoulder as he rushed back to Squeaky, who was still waiting obediently in the hall. He handed over the potion. “Give this to Niles. Tell him I wish him a swift recovery.”

  Squeaky chirped once, clutching the potion delicately in its claws before darting into the sky.

  Xemena burst from her room, face livid. “GUARDS! SHOOT THAT BIRD DOWN!”

  Crossbows were raised, weapons prepared, but Squeaky twisted and dove through the air like a streak of lightning, dodging every bolt and slash sent its way.

  Xemena spun toward her brother. “Explain. Now.”

  Xander gave a warm, innocent smile. “Ah, my lovely sister. That dress suits you perfectly today.”

  She stared. Unmoved.

  He dropped the act. “Right. Sorry. I needed the potion.”

  “Why not just tell him about the traitor in his camp while you’re at it?” she snapped.

  Xander blinked. “Oh. I actually forgot about that part.”

  A pause.

  “…Do you think I’m fast enough to catch up to Squeaky?”

  “THIS ISN’T A GAME, XANDER!” she shouted. “I’M TELLING FATHER!”

  He pressed his palms together in mock prayer. “Please don’t. I’ll make it up to you… eventually.”

  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I’ll remember that. When the time is right, you’ll pay for this.” She leaned in, her voice colder now. “Besides, Xhiva will finish off Niles soon enough.”

  Xander offered a dramatic bow. “Thank you for helping me even the odds.”

  Xemena sighed, arms still crossed. “Helping you? You literally broke down my door and robbed me.”

  She waited, half-expecting an apology.

  But Xander was already walking away, waving over his shoulder. “Sibling squabble,” he called back with a final grin.

  Xemena muttered, “And don’t look so innocent…” She shook her head and went back inside.

  Meanwhile, Squeaky’s journey continued.

  The tiny avian soared over the sea, wings heavy with exhaustion. Being an unpaid, overworked delivery bird had taken its toll. It hadn’t rested once.

  Another day passed. The blue horizon parted to reveal something familiar: a ship bobbing gently in the open water. Squeaky flew lower, wings wobbling… until—

  “OI! SQUEAKY!” a voice called from below.

  It was Roy—one of the other summoned champions from Earth. His voice rang out like sunshine.

  “COME DOWN HERE! WE’VE GOT GRILLED FISH FOR YOU!”

  That was all Squeaky needed to hear.

  Sure, Niles needed the potion... but what good was a delivery bird running on empty?

  Squeaky spiraled down, flapping toward Roy’s outstretched hand, and landed gracefully. Roy scratched around the bird’s head with enthusiasm.

  “Good bird! You must be exhausted—we saw you tear across the sky like a bolt of lightning.”

  Squeaky chirped in a way that might’ve translated to, “You don’t even know the half of it.”

  Roy carried him to a small table where grilled fish was neatly stacked. He grabbed one and offered it. Squeaky scarfed it down like a starving seagull, table manners be damned.

  “Eat all you want,” Roy grinned, setting Squeaky down like royalty. The bird spread its wings in sheer delight, like it had just discovered an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  As Squeaky devoured his third helping, Roy’s eyes narrowed. He spotted something glinting in the bird’s talon—a crimson vial.

  “What’s this?” he murmured.

  Before he could examine it, Xhiva strode over, arms raised like greeting a war hero. “Welcome, brave messenger of lightning!” he proclaimed, and then leaned close to Roy.

  “That’s a health potion,” Xhiva whispered, eyes gleaming. “A strong one, too.”

  He continued, voice low and greasy. “Something must’ve happened on Monster Island. That bird’s been flying like death was on its tail.”

  Then he smirked, his multiple chins following suit. “Shouldn’t our guest pay for his meal?”

  Roy nodded solemnly. “I agree, my prince.”

  While Squeaky was busy destroying another fish filet, Roy reached around from the bird’s blind spot and yanked the potion free from its talon.

  Squeaky immediately chirped in alarm, flapping in protest.

  “Shut it,” Roy muttered, waving him off like a nuisance.

  Then, from the other side, Xhiva approached and gave the bird a hefty slap.

  Squeaky tumbled backward in the air, spinning once before catching itself mid-flight, eyes wide and wings spread in shock.

  Roy held the vial up, inspecting it one last time—then, with a smirk, he hurled it to the floor.

  The glass shattered against the wood, red liquid spilling like blood across the planks.

  Squeaky shrieked in horror and dove. Wings flared, the little bird zipped toward the puddle, desperate to salvage even a drop for Niles.

  But just as it touched down—

  A boot rose.

  “Off my ship,” Xhiva growled.

  He kicked.

  The impact sent Squeaky tumbling, feathers scattering through the air.

  In bird culture… this was considered a massive dick move.

  Dazed, Squeaky tried to rise—but arrows were already aimed.

  Xhiva raised a hand. His eyes glinted. Then came the signal.

  Thwip.

  The first volley of arrows cut through the air.

  Squeaky buzzed with electric energy, twisting and darting midair, trying to outrun death. But one arrow clipped its wing, and a cry escaped the little bird as it spiraled, losing speed.

  Still—it kept flying.

  Squeaky flapped harder, higher, blood trailing from the wound. Determined. Brave. Loyal.

  And then—

  “AGAIN!” Xhiva roared, laughter twisted and monstrous.

  The next volley struck with cruel precision.

  Tiny bolts pierced Squeaky’s chest and side. Another arrow drove into its back.

  It couldn’t stay up.

  The bird faltered.

  And then—like a star falling from the heavens—Squeaky plummeted, its body spinning, broken wings flailing in the air.

  The ocean below opened its arms.

  The waves swallowed the bird whole.

  Silence followed… until Xhiva broke it with a low, satisfied chuckle.

  “Brilliant thinking, Roy. I’m proud of your loyalty.”

  Roy swept his red hair back with one hand and gave a graceful bow. “Always, my prince.”

  Xhiva clapped him on the back and turned toward the rest of the ship.

  “Let’s have chicken for dinner!” he declared.

  He erupted in guttural laughter—and the crew, like hyenas, followed suit.