All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG - Chapter B2 Ch67: No Skills

“Is he the king?” Brixaby asked in what he likely thought was a quiet voice. It boomed through the hall.

However the teen — the king? — made no indication he had heard.

The three richly dressed men surrounding him as advisors frowned.

Best to proceed with respect, just in case, Arthur figured. Though he spared a moment to be annoyed at Valentina. The woman had told him that the king was old when she had been young.

He wasn’t an idiot. What he was seeing could be a powerful illusion or an anti-aging card power.

Still. She could have warned him.

Instead of answering Brixaby directly, he strode forward in an effort to regain that confident air. But it had left him and every echoing footfall through the room sounded hollow and weak.

He quickly reached the foot of the throne. Now that the initial shock had worn off and he was properly taking in the room, there was some sort of lumpy, glittery substance surrounding the back of the high-backed chair. In fact, that odd lumpiness — a ghostly translucence that was almost visible — stretched across the borders of the room.

Arthur got the impression of vast limbs he couldn’t quite make the shape of. If that were the case, he was walking right up to a vast belly.

Shoving that thought away as unproductive and alarming, he executed his best low bow.

“My King,” he said, “I am Arthur Kane. Allow me to introduce your kingdom’s newest Legendary dragon, Brixaby.”

There was silence from the throne. The back of Arthur’s still bowed head prickled but he did not rise from his bow.

This was a trick he had seen nobles pull with servants they were unhappy with. Nobles kept them in a subservient pose for an extended few seconds to prove a point.

“I have never seen a dragon so tiny,” the king remarked in a bored yet vague voice. “It’s fascinating.”

Arthur stayed in place, knowing better than to take the words as permission to rise. That was a trick he’d seen played on servants, too. “Yes, Brixaby is unique, but his power is strong.”

Brixaby stirred, his weight shifting upon Arthur’s shoulder. But his little dragon stayed silent.

“Unique,” the king repeated. “That is one word for it. Rise, Arthur Kane. There is no need to grovel at my feet like a dog.”

Arthur straightened, but he felt something was… off. His movements were a bit too jerky as if his fine muscle control had fled and his limbs weren’t sure what to do with themselves. He found he had trouble meeting the king’s blue eyes. All of his former confidence had fled.

Automatically, Arthur grabbed for his Acting skill. It wouldn’t automatically restore his equilibrium, but at least acting the part out as if he were in a play would give him a false persona to hide behind.

His Acting skill did not activate.

Arthur could feel the skill resting in his heart, but when he mentally reached for it, his fingers found only air.

“Kane…” The king reached to tap a long, elegant finger against his bottom lip. “Kane… Kane… Not one of the high noble families. A outskirts barony, am I correct?”

Why wouldn’t his Acting Skill work?

“Yes, my king,” Arthur said and to his horror he heard his own voice tremble. Hurriedly, he cleared his throat and continued, “My father runs a small barony on the outskirts of your kingdom.”

The bearded man by the king’s side spoke. “Untruth.”

Arthur froze.

The King’s eyebrows lifted.

Arthur knew he should say something to cover for this moment. He should have guessed the King had someone who could tell the truth from lies among his trusted men.

… Why hadn’t the man called him out when he’d given his false name?

Was it a false name, though? Arthur was known as Kane by many people. He used it freely and couldn’t remember the last time the name made him flinch.

Perhaps he had adopted it as his own. Enough not to trip the senses of the truth seeker.

These thoughts bounced around his mind, and Arthur found himself completely lost for words. His Acting Skill was out of reach, as was his Breathing enhancement.

He knew that because he felt like he couldn’t get enough air. His throat was tight with rising panic.

And the silence stretched on becoming awkward.

Finally one of the other men leaned toward the king and said in a low voice that nevertheless carried, “Sire, there is also the matter of the dispute.”

The king turned to him with a scowl that fit his young face. “What dispute?”

“The Duke, sir.”

Oh no, Arthur thought. That did not help his panic. He knew without anyone saying which Duke they were talking about.

All his luck had failed him. Just like his skills.

“Well, he can wait,” the king snapped. “Who is the king here? That’s right, I am. And I’m interested in getting to know our new friend.”

He turned back to Arthur who found himself frozen, like a rabbit under the searching gaze of a hawk. He had to actively work to keep his breaths normal and not hyperventilate.

For so long, his lies had been his shield against the rest of the world. Now it was about to be ripped away.

“Well?” the king asked after a moment. “Are you going to stand there like a dog waiting to be kicked, or are you going to properly introduce yourself to your King?”

What?

Was he mad, or playing with him, or asking for him to try again and not lie this time?

Arthur hesitated then swept into a bow.

“My King, I am Ernest Kane, though my friends call me Arthur,” he said, willing himself to believe that he was indeed who he said he was. “Please, allow me to introduce the newest Legendary to your kingdom, Brixaby.”

“What’s going on?” Brixaby asked, puzzled.

The king leaned forward, squinting his eyes at Brixaby. “I have never seen a dragon so tiny. Huh. Fascinating.”

Despite his pulse pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, he had to resist the snarky urge to repeat the exact line from last time. “He may be small, but he is a dedicated servant to the kingdom. As am I.”

There. A little flattery couldn’t hurt. Right?

“Yes, yes, you all are. So… Kane… Kane…” The king drummed his fingers on the side of the throne then tapped his chin. “Where have I heard that name before?”

Arthur’s estimate tipped a little more towards ‘mad’ than ‘playing with his food’.

“The Kane family is not the highest ranked of nobles,” he said firmly, not looking at the bearded truth seeker. “Baron Kane’s land is on the outskirts of the kingdom. He runs several border villages.”

The truth seeker remained silent.

Arthur had, after all, spoken the absolute truth about the Baron. It wasn’t his fault if his words implied they were related.

The king slumped, visibly bored again. “Oh, one of those.” He flipped a hand at Arthur. “So, what is the acreage you’ve managed to reclaim for the kingdom this quarter? You outer baronies are always so proud of that.”

“I’m not sure of the recent numbers,” Arthur said, “I have been away from that area for some time.”

“Untruth,” said the truth seeker.

“I have been back for a brief visit, of course,” Arthur amended, “But not long enough to see the lands which were reclaimed. As you can imagine, my time has been spent in the hives.”

Without his Acting skill to aid him, he couldn’t tell if he was overselling his story or not. But he felt he should shut up now.

The king looked at him.

Arthur looked back.

The silence, again, stretched on.

A wild thought flitted across Arthur’s mind: Is he going to ask me to introduce myself again? Am I going to be at this all afternoon?

In the next moment, a high, thin voice pierced the air. And though it whistled like a gust of wind, it was big.

“Elizar, my love, Duke Rowantree requests an audience.”

Brixaby jerked in startlement. From the corner of his eye, Arthur caught the little dragon looking around frantically.

Then Brixaby froze, looking behind him.

Arthur turned, too.

A pair of slit-pupiled yellow eyes hovered behind him.

There was the barest hint of a ghostly shape that might have been a large dragon head, but the lines were so translucent Arthur couldn’t say where the actual dragon began. The only thing solid were the eyes.

Brixaby jumped up to put himself between Arthur and the strange dragon, then seemed to recall himself and bobbed a greeting midair. “Oh, you are the—”

“Mythic,” the voice said and Arthur heard scales shifting across the floor.

He looked back towards the throne, and his mind finally puzzled out the faint lines he saw before: The hint of an outline of a belly and a back leg, tucked up against the throne.

The dragon was in a position to always protect its human.

From what little Arthur could tell, the rest of the mythic was thin and stretched long, coiled around the room like a massive snake.

What kind of a dragon was shaped like that?

“Pleased to meet you,” Brixaby said, “those are fabulous cards in your heart.”

“They are,” the mythic confirmed. “Do you wish to steal them, Legendary Brixaby? I have heard of your powers.”

“No, no! Well… I wouldn’t say no to perusing your library—”

“Brix!” Arthur hissed.

The mythic dragon gave a gentle laugh that blew Arthur’s hair around.

“Serve me and Elizar well, Legendary Brixaby. Perhaps you will someday earn your way into my card library.”

Brixaby visibly brightened.

“Elizar,” the mythic said, “Remember the Duke.”

“Eh?” The king straightened. “What are you talking about? Which Duke?”

One of his men spoke in the same tone as he had the first time, “Duke Rowantree requests an audience.”

If Arthur’s heart beat any faster, he suspected he was in danger of a heart attack.

He executed a bow. “Sire, if that is the case me and Brixaby will trouble you no longer. We would be glad to be on our way.”

But the luck he had fought so hard to earn was not with him. The king snapped his fingers, “Right, right. The dispute. No, you stay here Kane. This involves you.”

Then he nodded to a second advisor who had stayed silent so far.

That man turned and waved his hand in a grand circle. Ten feet away, another bright ring of fire opened into a portal.

Arthur didn’t feel a twinge from his Siphon card. That confirmed it: His powers were blocked here.

The portal expanded to show a cozy library with the shelves stocked with books. A man sat with his back to them at a heavy wooden desk.

Some instinct made him turn: It was Lional Rowantree.

The moment Lional saw the portal, he nearly fell out of his chair in his haste to make a perfect bow.

“My king, thank you for answering my petition.”

“Yes, yes,” Elizar said on a yawn, “make it quick.”

This is bad, Arthur thought.

And a moment later it got worse.

Lional looked to the side. “Penn, wake up. It’s time.”

There was a creak of cot-springs and Penn stepped into view, looking rumpled.

A distant part of Arthur realized the Duke had no idea if — or when — his petition to the king would be answered. Once applied, he had to be ready at a moment’s notice.

The rest of Arthur, of course, was dumbstruck in horror that his worst nightmare was about to come true.

Lional and Penn stepped through the portal to join them in the king’s court.