Chapter 27: A Queen’s Invite

“What do you think,” Adam said calmly.

As quickly as the words were out of his mouth, the darkness at his feet responded and shadows surged upward from the sands of the training yard, like ink rising through water. They twisted, coiled, and condensed with frightening speed. Within moments, a perfect duplicate of Adam stood before him; the same height, same lean build, same tight-fitting shirt he wore for training. Every detail was the same, down to the faint tilt of the head, but where Adam’s form had color and warmth, the clone was made entirely of darkness.

“By the Divine...” Elsa said in a quiet voice filled with awe.

Adam turned his head, seeing her frozen by his side, her eyes wide with disbelief and amazement. They’d been about to start their morning training before he summoned the clone, and judging by her expression, he surmised that she hadn’t encountered magic like this before. Slowly, she took a step forward—not because of a fear that something might happen, just stirring out of the shock—her gaze fixed on the silhouette.

“I know illusion magic that can conjure multiple copies of a person or thing as though they were real,” Elsa said, her voice still hushed with wonder. “But they’re only that—illusions. But this...” She reached out and pressed her finger against the shadow-clone’s chest, and the darkness yielded slightly. “This has substance. It’s real.”

Adam had figured that might be the case. He doubted there was a god of cloning hiding about somewhere. But a god of illusions? Confusion? Deception? Those seemed plausible given all he knew of this world. He was glad for the confirmation.

She dropped her hand and turned to Adam, her gaze burning with curiosity. “You said it just appeared and stopped a blade?” she asked.

He gave a single nod. “Yeah. Surprised me too,” he responded.

Now that he no longer feared any demon or heretical accusation from her, he saw no reason to hide his powers. Besides, if he wanted to get stronger—and he desperately did—testing his abilities against someone of her caliber was the most sensible thing to do. He almost always used shadow-warp against her now in their sparring, and as useful and devastating as it could be, it had only succeeded once against her, on the very first time, and even then it had been close. Every attempt since then had failed. Not because she’d been able to sense him, but because her reflexes were simply monstrous once she knew what to expect. No matter how perfectly he emerged from her blind spot, or from an impossibly tight angle she shouldn’t possibly be able to defend against—she did, and when she couldn’t, she evaded his attack with incredible speed.

He had been reminded, again and again, of how insanely powerful a Gold-Rank knight was, and how vast the difference was to Silver-Ranks. Katryn had once explained to him that Bronze-Rank and Silver-Rank knights were the norm that the academy and the kingdom expected, and Gold-Ranks were outliers, that was why there were only twenty-one of them, compared to the several thousand of Bronze and Silver ranks.

Through their spars, he had also learned that she upped the intensity the stronger he got, and though he lasted longer these days, he still lost almost every bout. The rare victories he got came from misdirection and cheating. She never quite knew what to do when his hands brushed or touched somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t in the middle of a clash. The split-second shock that followed was the only opening he ever got.

“How many can you summon and maintain?” Elsa asked after a moment passed.

Adam shook his head. “Not sure, that was one of the things I wanted to try.”

“Can you try now?” she asked.

He exhaled, set his jaw, and focused again. He had taken to this ability more easily than any of the others, perhaps simply because he understood his power better now. Within seconds, the shadows at his feet surged, peeling away from the ground, and a second clone materialized beside the first, completely identical, a faceless dark mannequin. Quickly, he checked the drain on his reservoir. It was noticeable, but not severe. Summoning two clones seemed to cost about the same as using shadow-warp. It was possible to use both abilities together, but that would probably drain him in under ten minutes. It was good he realized that now, and not in an actual fight. Still, this ability was incredibly useful. It could change fights entirely.

Elsa stepped forward and prodded the new clone the same way she had the first. She let out a soft, incredulous breath. “Adam ... these powers of you have. As unsettling as they are, they’re incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.” She met his gaze squarely. “And the way you’re progressing with the sword ... in a few months, you might become my equal.”

The words landed harder than he expected. Coming from her, someone who had trained since childhood and earned her place among the kingdom’s elite knights, that was no small compliment. And what struck him most wasn’t just the praise itself, but how easily she offered it. There was no trace of envy, no wounded pride. Just honest appraisal. He knew many would not be so gracious. It was one more proof of her character, of how rare she was. He genuinely struggled to find a flaw in her. She was good, truly good, in a way few people ever are.

Adam chuckled lightly. “A few months? Thought it’d be closer?” he said.

Elsa smiled, faintly amused. “Well, you still haven’t actually beaten me in any of our spars yet ... not fairly, at least,” she said, adding the last part as a gentle clarification.

“I think a win is a win,” Adam replied with an easy shrug.

She had no response for that. She simply shook her head, fighting off a smile as she turned back toward the clones. “How much control do you have over them?” she asked.

“Not enough to say for sure. Haven’t tested them properly yet.”

Elsa stepped back. “Then let’s find out,” she said, her gaze flicking between Adam and the two identical silhouettes of darkness. “I’d like to see how strong they really are.”

Adam smiled and positioned himself across from her on the sand, his wooden sword ready in his hand, and his two clones standing silently at his sides. He had been wanting to learn how they could fight in a coordinated manner, and Elsa had just given him the opportunity.

“Are you ready?” he asked, raising his voice slightly.

Elsa nodded, her dual wooden blades set. She’d decided a while ago that he’d improved enough to face her without any handicap, which meant no more single blade.

Adam glanced briefly to the clones at his sides. Earlier, he had wondered about altering their shape. He didn’t know if it was even possible, but he figured that it should. The clones, in plain terms, were darkness given form, but was it necessary to always be his exact form?

“Let’s see what you can do,” he murmured.

Adam focused, willing his intent into the shadows, on altering only a small part of their shape at first. A few seconds passed by, then he saw it—the clones’ hands lengthened, stretching unnaturally as the shadow thickened. Then the fingers fused together, the edges narrowing until each hand had reshaped into long sleek, obsidian blades that gleamed faintly.

It had fucking worked, he almost laughed with excitement. He would’ve patted himself on his back if he could. He could reshape them, and best of all, there was no extra drain on his reservoir. The things he could do with this ... reshape into another creature? Something large?

Elsa’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Interesting,” she said.

Adam didn’t answer. He stifled his excitement, saving it for later. Right now, he needed to test the shadow. With a simple thought, both clones rushed Elsa from opposite angles, their movements fast. Adam followed a heartbeat behind them, wooden sword raised. The idea was simple; overwhelm her. Three attackers coming at once from different sides, blades moving in tight coordination. At least, that was the plan, whether it would work remained to be seen.

Elsa shifted her stance the moment they closed in.

One clone struck first, its shadow blade swinging downward. Instead of blocking, Elsa cleanly parried the strike aside, and as the second clone thrust for her ribs, she twisted her body just enough for the attack to slide past her, then her blades became a blur as it cracked against the shadow’s wrist, shearing clean through; the severed hand dissolved into black mist. The clone didn’t flinch, however. It pressed on, the stump already regrowing into a new blade.

Durable, Adam noted ... very durable.

Adam came in for his own attack, his wooden blade cutting toward her flank. Elsa stepped back, letting the attack pass, and the clones pressed again—one high, one low. For a moment, the training yard became a blur of movement. Shadow blades slashed in tight arcs. Elsa’s twin wooden swords intercepted them again and again with the quick, sharp deflections she usually favored. It was like a dance, and absolutely nothing could touch her.

Adam circled around, waiting for the opening. Three against one, he thought. It had to work eventually. He surged forward again. One clone struck at Elsa’s shoulder while the other aimed for her legs. Adam came straight down the center. But the numbers meant nothing. Elsa danced through their assault, and with a low sweep of her blade, she shattered one of the clone’s knees, the second swing cut through its neck. The clone crumpled, then melted into smoke. The second one didn’t last any longer. She caught its thrust, twisted, and drove both blades through its chest before splitting it apart. Darkness unraveled completely, and both clones vanished.