Chapter 30: To kill an king (part 3)

Smirking to himself. He had a plan in mind. To change the minds of the civilians an tricking the rebels in thinking he is an messiah. With that in mind he drank the rest of his drinks and went outside towards his inn.

He got the ingredients for the Soul splitting blood body spell. He made sure there was no person near his room. After he made sure that there was nobody near his room he started to chant the spell.

"Ydob wen ym raen ma I." "si taerce ot gniffirof fo revenu sliver a dna doolb morf"

["From blood and a sliver of my soul I sacrifice these offerings to create this. Now appear my new body."]

As the words of the incantation echoed through the dimly lit room, the air grew heavy with anticipation. The dragon prince, his expression a mixture of determination and anticipation, focused his will on the ancient magic he was invoking. His hands moved with practiced precision, drawing intricate symbols in the air with the flick of his fingers.

Outside, the night air seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the momentous power being wielded within the confines of the inn room. The stars above shimmered with an otherworldly glow, casting faint shadows across the cobblestone streets below.

Inside the room, the ingredients for the spell glimmered in the soft candlelight, their mystical properties stirring to life in response to the prince's call. A vial of crimson blood pulsed with a dark energy, while a shard of obsidian seemed to shimmer with an inner fire. With each syllable of the incantation, the room seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy, as if the very fabric of reality itself was being woven and reshaped by the prince's words.

And then, as the final words of the spell left the prince's lips, there was a sudden, sharp intake of breath as the air around him seemed to warp and shift. A faint, ethereal mist began to coalesce before him, swirling and twirling in a mesmerizing dance.

In the heart of the mist, a figure began to take shape, its form hazy and indistinct at first, but gradually solidifying with each passing moment. It was just like he imaginad, a perfect replica of the Claude von Riegan from Fire Emblem Three Houses.

With a triumphant smile, the prince stepped forward, reaching out to touch the newly formed body with a sense of reverence and awe. . This was his creation, his vessel of power, a tool to wield in his quest to reshape Neolandia according to his own desires. 

"Now let's connect my mind towards this vessel."

He then sat on his bed like a monk and tried to make a connection towards his vessel.

The vessel opened his eyes and gave Callum a smirk.

"Now this is interesting." said Claude(Callum) with an easy going smile.

"Palpatine buy me beggars clothes."

["Certainly host."]

["These beggars clothes will cost 1000 system points. Would you like to buy them?"]

[Yes/No]

I pressed yes and the beggar clothes.

As the vessel, now wearing the beggar clothes, stood before him, Callum couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through him. This disguise would be the perfect cover for his plan to infiltrate the rebel ranks and sway the hearts and minds of the people.

Callum's mind raced as he contemplated the implications of his vessel's capabilities and the limitations imposed by his current resources. The prospect of training his mind to synchronize with his vessel seemed daunting, especially considering the exorbitant cost involved.

"It seems that I will need to train my mind and soul to operate my body with the vessel. That isn't something I can do at the moment," Callum muttered, his brow furrowing in frustration. The realization that he lacked the necessary means to fully harness his newfound power gnawed at him, threatening to undermine his carefully laid plans.

Turning to Palpatine, the ever-present AI companion, Callum sought guidance on how to navigate this unexpected obstacle. "Palpatine, how much does it cost to train my mind to synchronize with my vessel?"

The response was swift and decisive, yet it struck a discordant note in Callum's ears. "It would cost 1,000,000 points, something the host cannot afford at present," Palpatine intoned, its voice devoid of emotion.

"This could be a problem," Callum murmured, his mind whirling with possibilities. Without the means to fully integrate his consciousness with his vessel, he would be forced to rely on more conventional methods to achieve his goals. But even as he weighed his options, a sense of urgency gnawed at him, driving him to seek a solution to his predicament.

"So, I need to keep my body and the vessel's body safe and well-fed," Callum mused, his thoughts turning to the practicalities of maintaining two physical forms. The prospect of navigating the intricacies of daily life while simultaneously safeguarding his own existence and that of his vessel filled him with a sense of unease, yet he knew that failure was not an option.

He then layed down with his vessel on the couch and fell asleep.

The next morning he bought food from the innkeeper. Fed himself and layed in bed. He then connected with his vessel. Claude opened his eyes. He then took the second plate of food and ate it.

Claude snuck the same way outside in the alley where no one would see him. He found a cup with broken edges and began to walk outside of the alley. He began to sit on the side of the road and beg for money.

"Spare some change. Change." Claude did this for a while until an drunken guard swung his blade inrfont of him.

"Hey you there. If you want some money why don't you dance and sing for me a bit."

The drunken baboon then swang his sword and Claude began to dance and sing.

"It's a long, long way to Katolis, but the girls in the city, look so pretty. They kiss so sweet that you really have to meet the girls from Katolis"

"Hehehehe there is nothing like a foolish beggar singing and dancing for a little." The baboon then took a coin out of his pocket and tossed towards Claude. Then he walked away laughing in glee.

"Are you alright?" a voice beside him asked, snapping Claude out of his reverie.

Turning to face the other beggar, Claude forced a weary smile. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice tinged with weariness. "Just another day in this wretched city."

The other beggar nodded sympathetically, his eyes betraying a hint of understanding. "It's a tough life, no doubt about it," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "But we do what we must to survive."

Claude nodded in agreement, his mind already turning to his next move. 

"My name is Claude. What is youre's?"

"My name is Ezra. An former soldier of the kingdom of Neolandia."

I looked at him and saw that he missed an arm. That was probably the reason he was disscharged.

Claude's gaze softened as he took in Ezra's weathered appearance, his heart going out to the former soldier who had fallen on hard times. The sight of Ezra's missing arm served as a stark reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of duty, a testament to the harsh realities of life in Neolandia.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ezra," Claude replied, offering a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry to hear about that. It must have been difficult to adjust to life after being discharged."

Ezra nodded solemnly, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "It hasn't been easy," he admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "But I do what I can to get by. Begging may not be the most dignified profession, but it puts food on the table, at least."

"This is not right. How can Neolandia treat their soldiers like that? When soldiers are discharged because of injury, they need to get compensation for what happened and someone who checks on them for a period of time," Claude said in self-righteous fury.

Claude's words echoed with righteous indignation, his voice carrying a weight of conviction that resonated with Ezra. The former soldier's eyes widened in surprise at the passion behind Claude's words, a glimmer of hope sparking within him at the thought of someone championing the cause of those forgotten by society.

"You speak the truth," Ezra agreed, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of purpose. "Far too often, soldiers are cast aside once their usefulness has expired, left to fend for themselves in a world that has little regard for their sacrifices."

Claude nodded in agreement, his resolve hardening with each passing moment. "It's time for that to change," he declared, his voice ringing with determination. "No one who has served their kingdom should be left to suffer in silence. We must stand together and demand justice for those who have given so much in the service of others."

Ezra looked at him with widened eyes. He saw something in Claude, something hope-inspiring that can lead him and Neolandia to a better future.

"There is someone I like you to meet Claude."