The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 1217 - 187 - The King Of Bethlan (6)

Restraint like that wasn’t common among kings.

"Then allow me to prove how genuine I am," I said.

And for the first time since we met, his expression didn’t look entirely dismissive.

Not convinced.

But not dismissive either.

Which, honestly, felt like a victory in itself.

"How so?" he asked, his voice calm but carrying that subtle weight that made it clear he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity.

"I will win this tournament," I said, plainly, without dressing it up.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze locked onto me, as if he were peeling me apart layer by layer. It wasn’t the kind of look that tried to intimidate. It was worse. It was the look of a man who had spent decades judging people’s worth and had gotten very good at it.

"Winning this tournament doesn’t prove anything," he finally said. Then he continued, his tone measured but firm. "And considering how easily you overpowered my knights back then, it’s only natural to assume that you’re going to win. Frankly, it would be more surprising if you didn’t." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "That said, I still haven’t seen everything you’re capable of. But based on how you fought earlier, I’d say you’re more than capable of defeating anyone here."

He took a step closer.

"You showed your opponent a weakness on purpose. You let him believe he had the advantage. And the moment he took the bait, you ended it before he even realized what he’d done wrong." His lips curled just slightly. "Someone who can manage that deserves to be called a fighter of high caliber."

I let out a quiet breath, scratching the back of my head. "You’re giving me too much credit, Your Highness. I’m really not that great."

"Bullshit," he snapped. His glare sharpened, cutting straight through the casual deflection. "Now tell me something important. What exactly are you planning to do in this tournament to prove that you genuinely love my daughter? Winning alone isn’t going to cut it."

Yeah. I figured as much.

From the start, it was obvious he wasn’t the kind of man who’d be satisfied with surface-level results. The way he looked at me made it clear he’d already placed me in a category of "dangerous but useful," which honestly wasn’t the worst place to be. Still, the expectations hanging over me were heavy. The kind that crushed people who tried to bullshit their way through.

"By telling the world my secret," I said.

The words hung there, and it was deliberately vague.

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Fair. I’d walked right into that one.

"I don’t think it’ll make you appreciate me as your daughter’s lover," I said, choosing my words carefully, "but you’ll appreciate me more as a person. You’ll see my value. My importance. Enough that you’ll think it’s fine if Nia is with someone like me."

For a few seconds, he didn’t move. He didn’t blink. Just stared.

Then his expression darkened slightly. "Are you telling me you’re going to reveal the secret that made Nia fall in love with you?"

"One or two things," I said, lifting a shoulder. "So... yeah. Pretty much."

That didn’t seem to help my case.

He looked unconvinced, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him. I could almost see the gears grinding in his head, trying to map out every possible angle, like me trying to think of schemes, manipulation, and half-baked heroics. Whatever he was imagining, it clearly didn’t line up with whatever I was planning. And at this point, that was kind of the point.

"Well," he said after a moment, his voice cooling. "I suppose I’ll look forward to seeing what you’re planning." He turned slightly, then stopped. "But understand this." His eyes flicked back to me, sharp and cold. "If it turns out that you’re manipulating Nia’s feelings for some personal vendetta, you will regret it. I will haunt you to the ends of the world."

There was no exaggeration and no empty threat as well.

Just a promise.

Well, he clearly loved his daughter. That made sense. I mean, Titania was his only child. If a man had only one daughter, the center of his life, then of course he’d be fiercely protective.

Honestly, it would’ve been strange if he weren’t.

I nodded. "I’ll keep that in mind."

And with that, he turned and walked away.

Even the way he did it was different. Controlled. Clean. No hesitation, no wasted motion. It wasn’t dramatic, but it didn’t need to be.

That was a king.

The knight, however, was another story. He remained where he was, staring at me like he was one bad thought away from drawing steel. I figured he still wanted a piece of me, probably felt like his pride hadn’t recovered from last time. But orders were orders, and whatever command he’d been given was clearly keeping him in check.

At least for now.

Honestly, if he’d asked for a duel right there, I would’ve taken it. Just to see if it would ease whatever was eating at him. Whether that would’ve satisfied him or just made things worse, though, was anyone’s guess.

After a short while, he finally turned around and followed after his king, their figures moving in sync as they disappeared down the corridor.

I stood there for a moment longer, watching their backs until they were out of sight.

Then I headed back to the tournament venue.

The rest of the day passed quickly. I did two more matches, which means I gained two more wins. It was almost boring now, if I was being honest. My opponents put up a fight, sure, but nothing that really pushed me. The crowd cheered, the officials nodded, and everything went exactly the way people expected it to.

What stood out, though, was what didn’t happen.

Even though I half-expected him to be watching from somewhere—some balcony or some shadowed corner—the King never showed himself again.

Maybe he was waiting.

Or maybe he’d already decided that whatever I was planning, he’d rather not see it until it was unavoidable.