Beauty X Beast ~ Prologue!

The high stone walls of the castle loomed over Sir Gasteel Anton Leiter as he marched through the gates with his chest thrust out and shoulders pulled back, saluting each High Knight he walked past. Even though he had been invited here by the king himself, ignoring military protocol would have been enough reason for the High Knights to delay him and ruin his introduction to the peerage. 

Once he passed every living obstacle, a smirk found itself lucky enough to grace his lips. It only grew as each confident stride brought him deeper into the depths of the palace. 

He found himself in good company, surrounded as he was by tapestries and portraits practically shouting the ancient tales of conquest and war his kingdom had gloriously waged against their ancient enemies. Every inch of the castle seemed to have been created to showcase the triumphs Verdelune had managed.

“Mmm… look at that. A painting for winning a duel? A tapestry for capturing a town?” His eyes gleamed as he imagined how splendid his own accolades would appear. Already, he could practically see his own story being drawn out, meticulously planned and painted, capturing every angle of his impeccable face and combat-chiseled body. 

Gasteel shivered with delight as a light thrill shot through him. “If the rumors I’ve been hearing recently are true, I might have a portrait to immortalize my deeds drawn even sooner than I had expected. Who am I kidding? Of course they’re true. Why else would I be here? Unless… perhaps a statue? A ballad?”

Being summoned by the king himself was no small feat, and though it had come as a surprise, Gasteel merely took it as his due. Starting in his late teen years, he’d carved out a reputation as the kingdom's most formidable hunter, able to effortlessly take down monsters and humans alike. Even then, he’d been catching the eye of the crown. Once he’d proven that even the wildest claims were true, a clear path had been opened for him: everyone had known he was destined for greatness on the battlefield. 

From a lowly Greenhorn, Gasteel had quickly earned a position as a full Knight—a rank typically reserved only for the third son of hereditary nobles. Now, less than a decade after first stepping foot into the fields of blood and battle, his military regalia was adorned with shimmering medals of valor, with more accolades being attributed to him daily by higher-ranking officers. Every victory, every conquest, meant another medal and more recognition heaped onto him.

While that was all well and good, Gasteel could only look at the tokens clinking on his chest with each step as a single item: a ticket into the palace, an audience with the king. After today, he’d box them up and toss them into the junk drawer where they belonged.

His earned rank was the only reason he was allowed to openly wear his sword while in the palace, but a smaller, secondary reason was the knowledge of the Advanced Skill from his class. As it did not directly interact with his sword, the weapon was usually an afterthought. “Now there's a mistake, if they've ever made one. I can cut down a bear with a single strike and a trained knight with only three.” 

Still, there was something so… enticing about using his system-granted skills. Almost unconsciously, he ran a finger over his bare forearm, staring in delight at the newly upgraded rank of his favorite ability, ignoring the lower classes and abilities he’d been given when he was younger.

Full Class: Royal Huntsman

Basic Skill: Aim and Strike: Level 10/10. 

When targeting a single point, you can [Perfectly] aim your weapon, creating a burst of gasses that will propel the projectile you are about to launch.

Advanced Skill: Compress and Spark: Level 7/10.

When activating Aim and Strike, you can compress the gasses to a single point in a [Proficient] manner and detonate it by creating a spark in the center of the volatile miasma. Until [Perfect] control of this skill has been attained, the projectile may be pushed off-course by the detonation.

Breakthrough Skill: Locked. Reach Skill level 10 with [Basic Skill] and [Advanced Skill] to unlock!

“Yes…” His resonant voice echoed back to him in the enclosed corridor, caressing his ears and making them tingle in an extremely pleasant manner. “This is certain to be a wildly successful meeting with King Jack. There can be no doubt that I’m here for him to make me a High Knight, perhaps even a Royal Knight. No… it couldn't be… a lordship title? It’s possible… yes. It is, isn’t it? No one’s earned it like I have. No one fights like Gasteel, slaughters other Knights like Gasteel!”

Just before he could break out in humming his own praises, he arrived in front of the war room. For a long moment, he just stood in front of the immense oak doors, soaking in their grandeur and allowing himself a moment to savor the taste of impending glory. Reminding himself once more of his achievements—as he was certain he was here for them to be recognized and rewarded—Gasteel double-checked his appearance and took a deep breath.

Standing ramrod straight, the Knight shoved the doors out of his way and brought his hands to his sides with a flourish. As they swung open, he confidently strode forward while radiating a gravitas matched only by one other person in the room: the king himself.

Gasteel’s greaves *clinked* on the stone floor as he swept into a low bow. He turned his forward march into a perfect, proper salute from a Knight to his monarch: turning the bow into taking a knee and keeping his head lowered. It was an annoying necessity, a show of respect which would be necessary to complete upon each meeting until he'd earned the higher ranks of nobility he so desperately craved. For a few interminable moments, he was forced to wait, and he grit his teeth to try and hide his annoyance at being intentionally kept in the subservient position.

“Sir Gasteel Anton Leiter.” King Jack’s voice cut through the air, silencing the audience of noblemen and women and also catching the bowing Knight off-guard. It was not the king's low-ranking spokesman who addressed him, but the monarch himself—a rare sign of favor. The unexpected recognition and honor caused Gasteel to flinch, but he caught himself before ruining the moment by standing without being given permission to do so. Even so, the arrogant man felt his ire cool as King Jack’s drawling voice washed over the room—speaking as much to the assembled peers as to the Knight on display.

“Hunter turned war hero, renowned for ruthless efficiency in service of the crown… and your ability to pierce through any non-magical armor with a single blow of your many mastered weapons, even without the requisite system skills. Your reputation precedes you.”

Feeling his chest swell with pride at being acknowledged by the king himself, Gasteel felt his mind race with ways this conversation could be leveraged to further his ambitions. “Thank you for your kind words, your majesty-”

“Some of it good, some of it very bad,” the king continued darkly, cutting off the knight and sending the still-kneeling Gasteel back into frustration—as well as a low level of concern, which the bowing helped him hide. “You have served the interest of Verdelune with impressive bravery, fortitude, and… decided efficiency. In the early days of our kingdom, you would have already earned yourself a position among the high peerage. But we are a more matured kingdom, with laws in place meant to prevent-”

“Husband.” The queen’s murmured words broke in, forestalling the king’s next words. Chancing a glance up, Gasteel’s eyes were drawn to her… more specifically the green and black system-sigil on her cheek marking her as a Witch. Unlike the stuffy nobility, Gasteel only felt greater respect for her at that moment.

This was a person willing to do what was needed to gain power. Since the day she had married the king, their territory had doubled in size due to their endless conquest of the neighboring kingdoms.

“Rise, Sir.” The king announced after a moment of waiting, showing the room that he was in charge, even if his wife objected to his statements.

The tension in the room shifted in a direction Gasteel was unhappy with. As he looked around, he noted dozens of faces turned in his direction, each of them wearing expressions as if they’d been carved out of granite. After a few heartbeats spent scanning the assemblage, merely several dukes and other members of the high nobility, Gasteel felt his nervousness fall away. As a seasoned hunter, he knew that people like this didn’t come out to hunt prey. 

No, they were here for political maneuvering, and that could only mean only one thing: they were either setting him up for a grand victory… or a disastrous blow to his reputation, which would leave him forevermore unable to climb through the ranks of the kingdom.

That didn't scare him. Straightening his shoulders and smoothing all emotions from his face, Gasteel tried to think why this crowd specifically would be here—and decided it didn't matter. These nobles, with their centuries-old bloodlines and incessant scheming, were the backbone of Verdelune’s economy and power structure. While that was wonderful for them, the Knight couldn't help but look down on them. Everything they had, they’d been given. But he had always believed in cultivating his own power. Power earned through raw strength had a noticeable feel to it, and it was the opposite of the aura these prissy nobles exuded.

As a self-made man in a room full of people who had inherited their titles, he was a potential asset and a threat.

“My council has decided that your talents are needed in a… different capacity. ‘Delicate’ times approach us, and as we walk forward into the future, we must determine the path the kingdom as a whole will walk upon. Your rather… direct approach on the battlefield, while effective, has been causing too many eyes to turn toward us.”

The king's eyes narrowed, and a hint of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “As much as I appreciate what you’ve done for us, I will be frank with you, Sir Gasteel. It’s been a decade since we’ve pushed our border south, and my queen has reminded me that it is high time we return to our glory days. Conquest is on the horizon. When that happens, you will be allowed to return to the front lines. Until then… we need to make them think we’re not making any moves.”

As much as he wanted to interrupt, doing so could cost him his head, no matter how much favor he’d garnered with his devotion to the crown. He fully understood that this was a test to see if he, a man known to leave behind no survivors, could also somehow contain enough political savvy to bow his head and follow when the need arose.

There was no way the nobles judging him could know this, but patience was Gasteel’s greatest strength. Just like when he’d been acclaimed as a hunter, he fully understood how a little patience—waiting for the perfect time to claim what was his—could mean taking home a larger trophy.

Several long moments passed, and a tiny spark of approval appeared in King Jack's eyes.

“I am pleased to see the good things I’ve heard of you are true. Sir Gasteel, on my command, you are to be elevated to the rank of Baron. While this title does come with a parcel of land and a manor, it will be managed on your behalf while you complete your first year of service to the crown, as is to be expected of any new member of the nobility.” 

Gasteel froze at the news, not able to say a word as his brain tried to catch up with what his ears had told him. Though he knew he deserved it, a barony was still outside the realm of even his more ambitious expectations.

King Jack’s words rang with authority, turning his statements into orders. “Your task will be to recruit the finest soldiers and support staff in our kingdom. You are not expected to train them, merely, hmm, encourage them to sign on the dotted line. So long as you fully understand the laws of our land, as is to be expected of each member of my court, you should have no issues at all. Every failure… well, I'm sure you will give a full accounting to all of us. For. Every. Single. Failure.”

This time, when the king paused, Gasteel understood the cue being given to him. This was where he was meant to graciously accept, displaying humility and devotion to the kingdom at the same time. “Your majesty, I don’t deserve this honor, but I shall uphold the dignity and laws of Verdelune with an iron fist.”

The simple words couldn't convey the way that his heart was pounding in his chest, the storm of emotions that was filling him at the moment. Gasteel was analyzing the situation, just as he would scan the terrain when stalking dangerous game. While this was ostensibly a promotion, it was in actuality a thinly veiled insult, a move calculated to curtail his meteoric rise in power and remove him from a position where he would be visible to the impressionable troops.

No one wanted a battlefield hero who could stage a military coup. Not unless they controlled them absolutely.

Even so, it was well-understood that the fastest way to grow combat abilities was to perfect them in the crucible of battle. He had only three levels to go with his skill before he’d unlock his Breakthrough ability, an achievement almost unheard of for someone only in their early thirties. Even as he railed against this reassignment internally, he had to give King Jack credit. If he was in the same position as the ruler, this is exactly what he would do to ensure his power wasn’t questioned.

Even so… pulling him from the front lines, from the thrill of the hunt? It was a bitter potion to swallow. He had worked his entire life defining himself as the one called on to draw blood from powerful creatures, whether animals, monsters, or humans. Earning a noble title might be prestigious, but it was a mere bone thrown to a dog to placate it.

Gasteel was no beast to be tamed. He would not be locked in a gilded cage nor allow himself to be muzzled under the guise of recognition.

“Your majesty, truly I’m grateful for this opportunity. However, I am a hunter, a warrior, not a… recruiter. I desire only to serve you to the utmost of my capabilities-” 

“Then you will do as you are told.” A royal guard was the one to speak, stepping forward and staring Gasteel down, a hand on the hilt of his sword as he waited for the Knight to show another hint of defiance.

“At ease.” King Jack lazily waved the guard away, though Gasteel was wise enough to understand that the guard wasn’t being countermanded. Likely, the monarch simply hadn’t wanted to show his own ire and had specifically ordered the guard to verbally slap Gasteel using a secret signal. “This decision is final. This strategy is crucial to our final success, as we strengthen our forces, build alliances, and prepare an invasion under the noses of our watchful neighbors.”

Fists clenching at his sides, the metal and leather of his gauntlets creaking, Gasteel sharply returned to his kneeling position, using the gesture of respect to hide the inner turmoil he was enduring. When the man made no attempt to move or argue further, King Jack offered a small concession as recognition of the newly minted baron realizing his error and showing proper deference once more.

“As you know, Gasteel Anton Leiter, having three names is traditionally a sign of being a common-born individual. With your rise to the status of baron, one of your names will be removed in order to make way for the title of baron. Typically, we would do this by merging the first part of your first name, and the second part of your second name, but as a personal token of appreciation for your years of service, I have determined that you may choose your first name.”

King Jack paused, an eyebrow raising ever so slightly as he leaned forward and mildly inquired, “Would you go as tradition dictates and take ‘Gas’ from your first, and ‘Ton’ from your second, to become Baron Gaston Leiter, or will you maintain the name that has earned you fear and respect on the battlefield and become Baron Gasteel Leiter?”

Gasteel’s mind raced for ways that this situation could be exploited to his advantage. The king's favor was a valuable commodity, but in this… his ambition and pride won out. He knew this was a test, but Gasteel had no intention of weakening his name. With a steady voice, he made his choice. “In my service to Verdelune, I wish to remain your steadfast steel, hardened by the hammer of war and the crucible of combat. With your blessing, King Jack, I would take the name Baron Gasteel Leiter.”

“Then rise, and know that you are the founder of a new line of nobility, Baron Gasteel Leiter.” There was no approval or angst shining through the words of the king, leaving the baron wondering if he’d passed… or failed. “Go and do your duty, in service to the crown.”

The new lord genuflected one last time, then stood, turned on his heel, and marched out of the war room, the heavy oak doors closing behind him with a resounding *thud*. Just before they finished slamming shut, he could hear a collective sigh of relief escape the mouths of the Royal Guardsmen. 

It was just enough to return a small smile to his face. 

“Each of them would’ve been a worthy fight, but they needn't have feared. They outnumbered me five to one, and even I don’t like those odds against such powerful men.” His mind returned to the thought of being forced away from his soldiers, from the thrill of the hunt, the scent of blood. An unbearable pain filled his gut: emptiness and acid all in one.

In a slight daze, he accepted the tome a royal clerk handed over. A glance showed it to be a logbook of all of the rules and regulations he’d need to follow during the recruitment process. “Ugh… books and paperwork. Tasks for lesser men. Wait… perfect. I know just the sycophant for the job. One year. Just one year away, then I’ll be at the forefront of an invasion. It’ll be worth it, in time. It has to be.”

“Nobility on the floor! At-ten-tion!” As Gasteel walked through the courtyard, all of the knights in various stages of training stopped what they were doing and shifted to salute him. At first, he was startled, but then his small smile began to quickly spread across his face. Gasteel walked taller, intentionally making his way past every High Knight in the area to ensure they needed to stop what they were doing and salute him.

“Perhaps there are some perks to this new title, after all.”