Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 516: Conversation with Blackmare princess

King Highmoor stepped away from the table and walked over to Lucas, his expression softening just slightly in a way he rarely allowed in matters of war and strategy. When he reached him, he placed a firm hand on Lucas’s left shoulder, steady and reassuring.

"You have never disappointed me, Xavier," he said, his voice lower now, carrying a rare note of personal confidence. "You have never failed a task I placed before you. You are my most trusted subordinate."

He gave a faint, approving nod.

"We are fortunate to have you."

Lucas held his gaze for a moment, then inclined his head slightly. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

It was simple, but sincere.

King Highmoor’s hand remained on his shoulder for a brief moment longer before he finally stepped back.

The Blackmare king, who had been observing quietly throughout the exchange, now shifted his attention fully to Lucas. There was a measured curiosity in his gaze, not unfamiliarity, but recognition of reputation rather than presence.

"I have heard of you," he said at last.

Lucas looked toward him, attentive but calm.

The Blackmare king continued, "Particularly your work in alchemy."

A faint pause followed, as though he was recalling specific accounts rather than general rumors.

"Your name has reached Blackmare more than once," he added. "Not many in your position gain that kind of mention outside their own kingdom."

The Empress remained silent, watching the exchange with quiet interest, while King Highmoor made no attempt to interrupt.

The Blackmare king studied Lucas for a moment longer, then spoke more directly.

"Sometime later," he said, "I would like to speak with you personally."

There was no command in his tone, only intent.

Lucas met his gaze evenly. "Understood."

The Blackmare king gave a slight nod, satisfied with the response.

King Highmoor glanced between them briefly, then returned his focus to the table, allowing the moment to settle back into the larger matter at hand.

The discussion of war and movement would continue, but for a brief moment, another thread had been added to the unfolding situation.

Lucas left the command tent without hesitation once the discussion between the three rulers continued, his mind already occupied with the structure of what had just been assigned to him. The weight of the coming operations settled quickly into his thoughts, not as pressure, but as focus. Lechia on one side, Rus on the other, both unfolding in parallel, both demanding precision rather than force.

He stepped out into the encampment air, exhaling lightly as he adjusted his pace.

The noise of the camp returned around him, soldiers moving between duties, scouts passing along reports, the steady rhythm of preparation continuing as though the world itself had already begun aligning with the decisions made inside that tent.

Lucas barely registered most of it.

His thoughts were elsewhere, already breaking down routes, risks, and timing structures for the breakout mission. Who would move first, how long infiltration would take, what level of resistance Rus would realistically deploy for a deposed emperor.

He was so focused that he did not immediately notice the presence waiting nearby.

The elder princess of Blackmare stood a short distance from the tent entrance, no longer simply observing from the side. This time she had positioned herself more directly in his path, her posture composed, her expression calm but deliberate.

Lucas passed her without stopping.

Not intentionally dismissive, simply absorbed.

"Xavier."

Her voice cut through the space cleanly.

He paused.

Slowly, he turned his head back toward her, as though only now registering that she had spoken. Also, he was mildly surprised that she knew his name.

She met his gaze without hesitation.

"I would like a word with you," she said.

There was no softness in the request, but no hostility either. It was direct, composed, and clearly intentional.

For a brief moment, Lucas remained still, his thoughts still half-tethered to the operations he had just left behind. Then his focus shifted fully back to the present.

He gave a slight nod.

"Alright," he said.

The encampment noise continued around them, soldiers passing at a distance, unaware or uninterested in the exchange, while the two of them remained momentarily separated from the flow of movement.

Whatever she intended to say, it was not casual.

And Lucas, despite everything already on his mind, was now fully listening.

They walked slowly along the edge of the encampment, away from the heavier activity near the command tents. The elder princess of Blackmare kept a measured pace beside Lucas, her hands loosely clasped behind her back, her gaze occasionally drifting across the structured chaos of soldiers and preparations.

For a while, she did not speak, as though she was simply observing him as much as the world around them.

Then, in a tone that was almost conversational, she broke the silence.

"You are quite well known, you know," she said.

Lucas glanced at her briefly but did not interrupt.

"In Blackmare," she continued, "and even beyond it. People speak of you as though you are... unusual. Someone who should not be capable of what you have achieved at your age."

Her eyes shifted toward him slightly.

"So I am curious," she said. "How did you manage it. All of it."

Lucas’s gaze remained forward as they walked, his expression calm and unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, as if considering how much of an answer was necessary.

Then he replied simply, "It is probably innate."

The princess tilted her head slightly, not convinced, but not openly challenging him either.

"And cultivation," he added after a brief pause, "I train constantly."

It was said smoothly, without emphasis, as though it were the most natural explanation in the world.

But it was not the truth.

Not fully.

Lucas knew it, and so did anyone who understood cultivation at a deeper level. What he had achieved could not be attributed to simple effort alone, not at his speed, not at his consistency, not at the results he had already shown.

Yet his expression did not change.

The princess studied him for a moment longer, then spoke again, her tone lighter but still sharp in its curiosity. "That is a very simple answer for something so complicated."

Lucas gave a faint shrug. "Sometimes the answer is simple."

It was a lie, and he did not need to say it twice.

He did not rely on innate talent. He never had.

What he had was his intelligent mind. A mind that remembered everything.

A memory that did not forget, not even across lives.

He had carried forward knowledge from his past life, fragments of strategy, understanding of systems, awareness of patterns that others had to spend years discovering. That alone gave him an edge most people would never recognize.

And then there was the Dual Cultivation Technique, something far beyond what this world typically understood or controlled, something that did not align with normal progression.

Together, they made what looked like talent from the outside.

The princess stopped walking for a brief moment, just enough for Lucas to notice the shift.

"You do not speak much about yourself," she said.

"There is not much to say," he replied.

Her gaze lingered on him, studying him in a way that suggested she was not satisfied with that answer, but also not ready to press further in a way that would break the calm between them.

Eventually, she resumed walking.

"Still," she said, her tone softer now, "it is rare. People like you do not appear often."

Lucas did not respond immediately.

Because in his mind, he was already somewhere else again, running through paths, outcomes, contingencies, the coming mission pressing at the edges of his thoughts.

After a moment, he simply said, "I just do what needs to be done."

The princess glanced at him once more, then gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

"That," she said quietly, "is usually what the most dangerous people say."

Lucas did not deny it.

And the walk continued.