CHAPTER 3 — The Smile That Shouldn't Exist
The cell was cold, damp, and lit only by the flickering torch outside.
Most people thrown in a war camp dungeon would cry.
Or panic.
Or beg for help.
Leon sat cross-legged on the floor.
Calm.
Breathing evenly.
His inhaler next to him like a loyal companion.
And then, very slowly—
He smiled.
Not a grateful smile.
Not a scared smile.
A smile that didn't belong on a teenager with asthma.
A smile that belonged to someone who knew
exactly what he was doing.
Someone who had decided
to survive this world on HIS terms.
---
War's End
Hours passed.
Screams faded.
Explosions quieted.
Finally—
A horn echoed across the battlefield.
The demons are retreating.
Guards cheered outside.
"You hear that? We won!"
"Sir Rowan pushed them back again!"
"Hail the Commander!"
Leon blinked once.
"Commander… Rowan," he whispered.
Interesting.
Footsteps approached.
Armed soldiers marched into the cell area.
Then came Rowan, the knight who carried him.
Still dusty from battle.
Still calm like killing monsters was nothing.
Behind him walked a man in golden robes, wearing a crown shaped like wings of light.
The king of the Aurelius Dominion—
King Aldric Valenheart.
Strong aura.
Sharp gaze.
But tired… very tired.
Rowan unlocked the cell.
"Bring him out."
Two guards yanked Leon forward.
He didn't resist.
He simply stood there, smiling softly, like he knew a joke no one else understood.
That alone made three soldiers uncomfortable.
---
The King Questions Him
King Aldric studied Leon with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
"You were found in the center of the blast," the king began.
"No armor. No weapon. No identification. Not a single soul knows you."
His voice grew colder.
"Explain yourself."
Leon didn't blink.
"Of course," he said softly.
"I'm harmless."
Rowan scoffed. "Then why were you smiling in the middle of war, boy?"
Leon tilted his head.
Still smiling.
"Because fear wastes oxygen.
And with asthma, I can't afford that."
The king raised a brow.
"Your composure is… abnormal."
Leon shrugged lightly.
"I adapt fast."
That was an understatement.
Leon was analyzing everything:
• The king's fatigue
• Rowan's loyalty
• The guards' fear of magic
• The political tension of a losing war
• And how an unknown boy is either a threat or an asset
Leon chose the easier path:
Become an asset.
---
The Manipulation Begins
Leon stepped forward, still calm.
Two guards pointed spears at him—
but the king raised a hand.
"I watched your men fight," Leon said gently.
"Your left flank collapsed because the demons targeted the wounded first."
Rowan stiffened.
"How do you know that?"
Leon smiled wider.
"I listen.
I observe.
I think."
He continued:
"And if you send your cavalry twenty seconds later next battle…
you'll corner the demon vanguard perfectly."
The guards exchanged confused looks.
Rowan frowned.
"Why would you tell us that?"
Leon looked the king in the eye.
"Because it's a waste if humanity loses before I figure out where I am."
King Aldric's face slowly changed.
Interest.
Then curiosity.
Then… a small smile.
"You have the eyes of a tactician," the king said quietly.
Rowan muttered, "Or a manipulator…"
Leon chuckled softly.
"Both."
That honesty struck them harder than a lie would have.
The king finally nodded.
"Untie him."
Rowan glared, but obeyed.
The ropes fell from Leon's hands.
He stretched his arms and placed the inhaler back into his jacket pocket.
"Thank you," he said politely.
King Aldric crossed his arms.
"You're free to move inside the camp.
But you will be watched."
Leon bowed just enough to seem respectful.
"I expect nothing less."
As they walked away, Rowan muttered to the king:
"This boy… he's dangerous."
The king replied:
"Dangerous men panic.
He didn't."
Rowan glanced back at Leon—
Who stood there, smiling.
Smiling like someone who had just won a battle no one else realized had happened.
---