My Cheat Skill Lets Me Copy Powers....But only if i kill-Chapter 40: The Noble’s Request

Chapter 39 - The Noble's Request

Morning light streamed through the half-open shutters, casting sharp lines across the wooden floor and the simple furnishings of the inn room. The faint scent of oil and steel lingered in the air — remnants from the forge where Renji had picked up his new gear the day before.

He stood near the wash basin, fastening the final clasp on the Shadowforged Combat Coat — a gift from the guild in recognition of his role in surveying and clearing the dungeon. Forged from shadow-weave and steelthread, the coat was dark as storm clouds, reinforced with matte steel plates over the chest, shoulders, and forearms. It was lightweight, breathable, but carried a weight of presence — the kind that made people look twice and wonder who, exactly, they were dealing with.

It was more than armor. It was a symbol of status, earned, not bought.

Renji flexed his arm, testing the fit. The coat moved with him — fluid, seamless.

A perfect fit.

On the nearby table, untouched and ominous, lay the sealed parchment from the day before. The black-and-silver seal of Lord Valecross glinted in the light, the edges of the letter crisp, the message within still fresh in his mind.

A private audience. Discretion expected.

He hadn't opened it since.

A knock interrupted the quiet. The door eased open without a word.

Elara entered first, her long cloak swinging slightly behind her, followed by Lena, who closed the door softly behind them. Both wore concern like armor.

"You're really going through with it?" Elara asked, her eyes flicking from the letter to Renji's coat.

Renji adjusted the strap across his shoulder. "He summoned me. I don't have much choice."

"You always have a choice," she snapped, crossing her arms. "Nobles don't 'invite.' They lure. Then they bind."

Renji didn't respond right away, his fingers brushing against the seal. "That's why I need to hear what he wants. Straight from him."

Lena stepped forward, more reserved. "We've heard of Valecross before... connected to the king, right? There's power behind that name. And power means traps."

Elara gave a short nod. "And debts. Nobles don't give freely."

Renji reached for his gloves. "I'm not asking for anything."

"Doesn't matter," Elara replied. "Once they get you in the room, they don't need you to ask. They'll already have what they want."

He slid the gloves on, the coated shadowsteel detailing catching faint light.

Lena hesitated, then pulled a small silver charm from her pouch — etched with runes, worn but well cared for. "Take this. It's not much, but... if it helps at all."

Renji accepted it, the chain cool in his hand. He tucked it into an inner pocket of the coat. "Thanks."

As he moved to the door, Elara stepped closer, voice low but intense. "We've fought with you, bled beside you. Don't let them pull you into something we can't fight."

He stopped at the door, glancing over his shoulder. "If it turns into a fight, I won't be alone."

They watched him go without another word.

The streets of Valkris were already stirring, the sun casting long shadows between the stone buildings. Merchants barked their wares, carts creaked over cobblestones, and blacksmiths hammered steel — the usual sounds of life in the city.

But for Renji, every sound felt distant.

Every gaze felt sharper.

The Shadowforged coat moved with him, the weight of the guild's recognition across his shoulders. He wasn't just another adventurer anymore.

And the letter beneath his coat? It wasn't just a summons.

It was the start of something else.

He wasn't sure what.

But it wasn't going to be simple.

Or clean.

The city of Lysoria stretched out before Renji as his carriage rolled through the royal gates, the skyline bristling with ivory towers, golden spires, and marble facades. It was a city designed to impress — and to intimidate. Every stone seemed polished, every window spotless, every street watched by guards clad in royal blue and gold.

Renji shifted in his seat, the Shadowforged Combat Coat creaking faintly with the movement. The summons from Lord Valecross had come swiftly, requesting his presence at the heart of the capital — far from the familiar grit of Valkris.

The Valecross Estate sat nestled within the noble quarter, surrounded by manicured gardens and flanked by towering statues of hawks and lions — symbols of Lysorian dominance. Guards lined the perimeter, but their gazes held no threat — only cold scrutiny.

As Renji disembarked, presenting the sealed letter, the guards opened the gate without a word, and a servant in fine livery stepped forward, bowing stiffly.

"This way, Sir Renji. Lord Valecross awaits."

He followed silently through stone corridors lit by crystal sconces, passing by tapestries depicting royal battles and portraits of Lysorian heroes, their eyes seeming to follow him with judgment.

Finally, he was led into a vaulted chamber — walls lined with books and armory displays, and a long window overlooking Lysoria's central district.

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Lord Valecross stood near the window, dressed in black and silver robes, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Valecross said without turning.

Renji approached, footsteps echoing. "You summoned me."

Valecross turned, his gaze sharp, calculating. "You're direct. Good. I prefer clarity in those I deal with."

His eyes took in the Shadowforged coat. "The guild rewarded you well. They don't often part with relics like that."

"I earned it."

A pause.

Valecross motioned toward a sealed scroll on the table, bearing the royal crest. "I'll be blunt. You're being invited to represent Lysoria in the Royal Tournament. A chance to fight for honor, title, and land. Win, and you'll join the ranks of nobility — a knight of the realm."

Renji didn't move toward the scroll. "What do you gain?"

Valecross smiled faintly. "Strengthening Lysoria's champions strengthens Lysoria itself. And aligning with a man of your talent? That's an investment."

"I don't align easily."

"No, you don't," Valecross said, stepping closer. "Which is why this offer is rare. Decline, and your path remains your own. Accept... and the kingdom's doors open to you."

Renji stared at the scroll, tension humming beneath his stillness. He took it, but didn't break the seal.

"I'll consider it."

Valecross nodded once. "Do so quickly. The capital has many eyes — and not all look kindly on free pieces moving across the board."

From the balcony of a neighboring estate, Reina stood in the shadow of an archway, arms folded beneath her cloak, gaze fixed on the Valecross Estate below. The ornate halls and glass-paned windows glittered in the late afternoon light, but she wasn't admiring the architecture.

She was watching Renji.

Through the open window of the Lord's chamber, she could just make out his form — upright, motionless, facing Lord Valecross like a wolf surrounded by polished traps.

A faint hum of mana pulsed through the stone beneath her feet, the listening crystal in her hand feeding her faint echoes of their conversation. Not full words, just tones, rhythms — enough to tell that Valecross was making his offer.

Reina's jaw tightened.

She didn't need to hear the details. The king had anticipated this.

Suddenly, a soft chime rang from the communication crystal at her hip — cold and sharp. She tapped it once, and a holographic rune flared to life in her palm, displaying a brief message in swirling script.

"Report. Has he accepted?" — King's Command

Her brow furrowed. She hesitated.

Renji hadn't accepted. Not yet. But he hadn't refused either.

Fingers hovered over the response glyph before she finally answered.

"No. He's considering it."

A pause. Then another message flickered into view.

"You're authorized to proceed. Gain his allegiance. Or prepare alternative measures."

Reina closed her fist, crushing the projection.

Her eyes never left the window.

The king's words rang in her mind. Alternative measures.

She hated how cold that sounded — as if he was just another tool to be bent, or broken.

She wasn't supposed to feel conflicted. She wasn't supposed to watch him like this — standing in a noble's court, out of place, yet commanding respect.

But she did. And that was a problem.

Below, the meeting was ending. Renji turned toward the exit, the scroll in hand — not opened, not discarded. Just held.

Still undecided.

Still... himself.

Reina stepped back into the shadows, her cloak whispering against stone as she moved.

Time was running short.

The streets of Lysoria had begun to dim under the weight of twilight, the gold of the sun giving way to the blue hues of dusk. Renji moved through the city's noble district, the sealed scroll from Lord Valecross tucked deep into his coat. He hadn't opened it — didn't need to. The words had been clear enough.

A seat in the Royal Tournament, the stage for the ambitious, the powerful, and those eager to carve a legacy in blood and coin.

Renji exhaled slowly, stepping into a quieter side street leading back toward the inn where he was staying temporarily. The capital's energy was different from Valkris — cleaner, richer, but suffocating in its own way.

His thoughts drifted to the Shadowfang he'd lost in the dungeon, to the choices looming ahead, and to the letter still hidden beneath his bedroll — unopened, untouched, like a secret waiting to explode.

"Renji Hurozawa."

The voice came sharp and direct from behind.

Renji stopped, turning slowly.

A figure stood at the edge of the alleyway — a young man draped in royal-blue and silver-lined armor, a cloak embroidered with the Lysorian crest, and a sword at his side, sheathed but angled with purpose.

He stepped forward, eyes fixed. "I expected someone... taller."

Renji raised a brow. "And you are?"

The young man's lips curled into a smirk. "Thorne Albrecht. Chosen of the capital. Noble blood, trained from birth, favored by the king himself. I've heard the rumors about you — the dungeon, the rise from nothing. Impressive... for a commoner."

Renji didn't move, expression unreadable. "If you're trying to provoke me, you'll need to try harder."

Thorne's hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword. "I just wanted to see what the guild's golden boy looked like up close. You've drawn a lot of attention — nobles, the guild, even Lord Valecross. Curious company for someone with no roots."

Silence hung between them.

Renji's gaze didn't waver. "You done staring?"

Thorne laughed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "Just sizing up the competition. The tournament's not far off, and I like to know who I'm going to beat. You should think about what happens when you lose, Renji. This city doesn't take kindly to failed heroes."

Renji stepped forward, voice low. "Then I guess we'll see who fails."

A flicker of tension.

Then Thorne stepped back, smirking again. "I'll be watching."

He turned, vanishing down the street.

Renji watched him go, fingers flexing at his side.

The city had its eyes on him.

And now... it had rivals sharpening blades.