Snowflakes were already beginning to flutter in the air as we put the plan into motion.

  The first step was getting back to the bailiff's manor.

  "P-p-p-prince Karl!" the bailiff stammered, his eyes bulging out of their sockets when he saw me entering the great hall in the middle of an audience. "Y-you are alive!"

  Heh. The look on his face alone was worth the trip back.

  In the next moment, everyone in the room turned their eyes to me. Whispers passed through the assembled villagers. I must have been quite a sight, Covered with a tattered cloak. Arm and leg wrapped in makeshift bandages. Limping through the doorway on makeshift crutches.

  Probably not quite how they imagined a scion of one of the most powerful noble families in the realm.

  "I am barely alive, sir bailiff." I made sure to reinforce the sorry state of my condition with a few overemphasised coughs. They were also useful to hide a wide grin that threatened to spread across my face at seeing the pig sweat at the sight of me. "But thankfully I made it here somehow, it seems."

  "Well, t-thank the Suns!" I could see globes of nervous sweat appearing on Ugo's forehead as he spoke with an awkward smile. "It has been weeks. We all thought you dead! When that beast dragged you away, we assumed the worst. Say, d-do you remember anything at all what happened...?"

  "Not quite..." It was quite a satisfying sight seeing him stew in his own anxiety, so I let a few tense moments pass before answering. I scratched my head to better sell the lie I'd spent the whole trip here rehearsing. "I remember us hunting. Then I was on the floor and in a lot of pain... And the next thing I know some kind men from the forest were patching me up, and I got here as soon as I could walk."

  I could see Ugo relaxing slightly as I spoke more and more, though a note of anxiety still kept him tense.

  "Oh, I see—heh—that's how it is. Yes, you ran off after a deer and were, uh, attacked by a wolf. I tried to save you, but it attacked me too, you see." He motioned towards his arm wrapped in a bandage. "You only managed to throw us your ring so we may return it to your father, yes."

  Ah, so that's the story developed. Very convenient for him. Plausible enough that my father wouldn't immediately suspect foul play, but tragic enough to wash his hands of responsibility. I had to admire the cunning, even as it was at my expense.

  "I... suppose that must be what happened," I said carefully, limping towards the high table where Ugo cleared a seat for me by sending his elder son to stand in the corner.

  "Send someone for Adalbert," Ugo declared, his confidence returning now that the immediate crisis seemed past, "and in the meantime let me finish this audience. Then I will prepare a feast to commemorate this joyful occasion!"

  A feast. Of course. Another opportunity for the fat bastard to gorge himself while his people scraped by.

  I forced a weak smile and nodded my thanks.

  As I settled into my seat, my hand drifted to my side, where beneath my cloak I'd secured the key to my plan. A clay tube no thicker than my thumb, sealed at both ends with wax, filled with a small amount of water and, suspended within, waxy white chunks that had cost me a week of careful, terrifying work. Roasting bones, extracting vitriol acid, shaping the container—and no small number of near brushes with death or burns of various kinds. The burns on my fingers still throbbed. One mistake during the final distillation and I'd nearly set the entire hunter's camp ablaze. The memory of that white-hot flame, the way it had eaten through a piece of scrap wood in seconds, still made my hands shake.

  I gently rolled one of the tubes a bit through my fingers before it caught a curious gaze of the bailiff’s younger son who sat on my other side. I motioned him to be quite and quickly put them away before he asked any questions.

  "Hurm, well, back to business." Ugo cleared his throat to continue the audience as everything calmed back down. "Otto, we were just discussing your workshop fee for this year."

  The person Ugo turned to was a stout middle-aged man, his most noticeable feature being a black bushy beard that covered his chin and neck. Further down, his rough leather apron and a belt with tools suggested his profession.

  "Aye, I told you already, I can't pay that much tax this year. Nobody worked the mines last half-winter. And with no ore, there's little business I can do." Otto answered in a deep voice.

  "M-my lord, you promised during the famine that you would forgive a part of the taxes if we didn't flee the village..." Another man joined in with a shaky voice. Unlike the sturdy blacksmith, he was a ragged and feeble old man. His knees trembled like reeds in the wind as he clutched a gnarled walking stick in one of his hands, and supported his other arm in the embrace of a young woman. It seemed a miracle he was standing at all.

  "Jost, this is another matter. And don't speak unless I ask for your input!" The bailiff aggressively brushed him off and turned back to Otto. It was clear he was still on edge from my arrival.

  The grandfather sighed and spoke no further, though the woman holding him up made a sour scowl. She must have wanted to say something but bit her tongue for Jost's sake.

  "Now, let's get this over with. The law is clear—if you don't pay your taxes, Otto, I can't let you keep using the forge and the workshop."

  "Can't you at least defer them until the next harvest season? Be reasonable, the nearest other blacksmith is two hours away in Eisdorf."

  "I can't just disrespect the royal code like that. However..." Ugo pretended to think for a while even though it was clear on his face he already had a plan. "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement to have your daughter work off your tax as my maid here. With the prince back, we need extra help—"

  "No." Otto answered resolutely before the bailiff could even finish. "I would sooner sell all my tools than send my daughter to work as your maid."

  "Don't raise your tone with me, blacksmith." Ugo pushed back and puffed his cheeks. "Besides, I'm doing you a favour. She is what, twenty already? And still running around the workshop. Working here will at least teach her some womanly virtues so someone can marry her."

  I felt my jaw clench. So this was his game. The same one Ralf had spoken of—the same one that had cost his sister her innocence and his family their dignity. And here Ugo was, bold as brass, trying it again right in front of me.

  "Don't you—"

  "Besides, you won't want to suggest she's too good for the prince?" Ugo asked with a grin as he turned to me. "Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

  Once again everyone's eyes turned to me.

  However, I stayed silent.

  Instead of the room, I was focusing on a small clay cylinder that I gripped in my hand.

  "Prince Karl?" Ugo repeated his question after a few seconds of silence. "Is everything okay?"

  I caught a small flash of light coming from one of the windows. We were ready.

  I took several deep breaths, steeling myself for what I was about to do.

  In the next moment, I rose from my seat and addressed the room.

  "No, everything is not okay, sir bailiff. There are many things wrong with this world, and you are certainly one of them. But today, we will start righting this wrong."

  The words came out steadier than I'd expected. For a heartbeat, the entire hall seemed to freeze—Ugo's face cycling through confusion to anger to something approaching fear.

  I then hurled the cylinder into the open hearth in front of the high table.

  The sound of breaking clay resounded through the room like a thunderclap.

  From the corner of my eye, I could see the bailiff's squire was first to shake free from the shock, his hand reaching for his sword as he turned to rush to his master's defence. But he never made it.

  In the next moment, a flash of white light seared the room. Right after it, thick, white clouds billowed out from the hearth. Within three seconds, the entire front of the hall was obscured. Within five, I could barely see my own hands.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  It was the result of this world’s first taste of modern science: white phosphorous.

  The room exploded into chaos.

  Screams erupted from all sides.

  Someone crashed into the trestle table hard enough to send wooden cups and plates clattering to the floor.

  Heavy boots pounded on the rushes as Ugo’s squire stumbled blindly around.

  A woman shrieked.

  A child wailed.

  I ducked under the table to escape the flying embers and pulled on my makeshift gas mask: a boar bladder fitted over my mouth and nose, its air passage stuffed with damp cloth and crushed charcoal. It smelled terrible and made every breath a labour, but it was infinitely better than what everyone else was experiencing.

  "What sorcery—" Ugo's voice cut through the pandemonium, thick with rage and fear. "Bert! To me! Protect my family!"

  Through the swirling smoke, I could see vague shapes moving.

  "Father!" the older boy cried out, his voice cracking with terror.

  "Günther! Stay close to your brother!" Even through the smoke and chaos, I could hear genuine fear in Ugo's voice. "Ute, keep them behind you!"

  Then, a surge of wind. Ugo was trying to use magic to clear the air. I felt the smoke swirl and thin for just a moment. But unfortunately for him, phosphorus pentoxide doesn't disperse like normal smoke. Nor can it be extinguished by a weak gust of air as he had made. Instead, the white clouds simply churned and resettled.

  Then came new sounds. The heavy thud of boots on stone, moving with purpose.

  The great hall door had burst open.

  "Wulf, secure the entrance!" Dietrich's muffled voice barked out. "Kurt, west side! Ralf, with me!"

  The four men moved like ghosts through the smoke, their masked faces marking them as something otherworldly. I'd told them where to go, what to do, but seeing it happen was different. Through the chaos and my own racing heart, I watched shapes converge on the high table.

  "Who dares—" Ugo's spell attempt cut off into a fit of coughing.

  A scuffle.

  The clatter of overturned chairs.

  More screams.

  "No! Let him go!" Ugo shouted, his voice raw with a desperation I'd never heard before. "Please! He's just a boy!”

  The scuffling continued for a while, but by the time the worst of the smoke cleared and I raised my head back up, the setup of the room was drastically different.

  The peasants had fled the hall. Ugo’s squire was on his knees coughing up his lungs. And standing before the high table, where Otto and Jost had been moments before, were four figures.

  To the bailiff and his family, they must have looked like demons. Cloaked in thick dark wool, their faces featureless except for two round eyes and an elongated tube extending from under their heads.

  And firm in their hands, with long hunting knives pressed to their throats, were the bailiff's two sons.

  Ugo stood with his back against the tapestried wall, his wife pressed behind him protectively. His arm was outstretched, palm glowing with a faint amber light. But his hand shook as he locked sight on his sons.

  The younger boy, Gustav, was crying silently. And the older one, Günther, was trying so hard to be brave despite his legs trembling.

  "W-what are you?" Ugo stammered, his voice breaking. He rapidly moved his eyes between me and the four men, though they always returned to his children. "What dark sorcery is this?!"

  I pulled off my own mask, coughing as the residual smoke irritated my throat. The air still stank of phosphorus—acrid and chemical.

  "It’s no sorcery, bailiff. It’s something much better. Chemistry!" I stepped forward, leaning heavily on my crutch. Every eye in the room tracked me. "Though I imagine to you it must seem as magic, as offensive as it is."

  "Y-your Majesty! L-look…" His voice dropped, became almost pleading. There was the humanity in his voice I'd almost forgotten he possessed. "Whatever grievance we have, we can discuss. Rationally. As fellow nobles." His eyes flicked to his sons, then back to me. "But please, for the love of the Suns, let my children go. They've done nothing. They're innocent. They—"

  “Oh, shut up ye fat pig! My sister was innocent too when you took her away.” Ralf shouted in an annoyed tone and gripped his cudgel. “None of you are innocent. We should just end this right—“

  “Ralf.” Dietrich stopped him mid-sentence. “That’s enough.”

  “No, this time, it’s not enough.” I could see Ralf’s fingers turn white as he clutched his weapon. “Look, we have him right in front of us. We can finally put an end to this. Get revenge for my sister. For Kurt’s wife. For Wulf’s family. For everyone.” He then turned to me. “Your Majesty, you tell him. He tried to kill you, too. Tell him. Just one strike and we can finally avenge them all.”

  For a moment, I just stood there, unsure what exactly to say.

  Honestly, this was the part I hadn't really thought through all that much. In all the planning, I'd focused entirely on getting to this moment. Maybe because I didn't want to face it. But now, with Ugo backed against the wall and everyone looking to me for an answer, I couldn't avoid it anymore.

  My first instinct was to imprison him and his family in the manor. It would be the most humane solution. Also the one that sat easiest with my conscience. But as I looked at Ugo, I could see the faint amber glow still flickering around his palm. And that was the problem.

  Magic.

  Argh, this is just further proof magic in this world sucks.

  If I locked him up here, he'd escape eventually. A wind spell to blow out a window, a fire spell to burn through a door, an earth spell to crack the foundation. I didn't know the full extent of what he could do, but I couldn't risk it. The moment he got free, he'd run straight to the local count or even to my father. And right now, before I'd had a chance to establish an industrial army, that would be game over.

  The truth was that keeping a noble imprisoned without proper countermeasures was nearly impossible. This left me with only one real option.

  The one Ralf was pushing for.

  My stomach twisted at the thought, but I forced myself to think it through logically. Ugo had already tried to kill me once. He'd left me for dead in those woods. If our positions were reversed right now, would he show me mercy? I already knew the answer to that.

  And beyond personal survival, there was also the bigger picture to consider. Ugo represented everything wrong with this world: exploitation, corruption, and stagnation. If I wanted to change things and build something better, I couldn't let him remain as an obstacle. Not when he had the means and motive to destroy everything I was trying to do.

  I took a deep breath.

  "Wulf, Kurt," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Take Ute and the children away. Lock them in the guest room upstairs. The squire too."

  The children were innocent in all this, and they hadn't been trained to use magic yet. I could at least spare them. Ugo's wife and his squire were commoners, which meant no magic either. All four could be safely imprisoned while I figured out what to do with them later.

  “W-what are you doing?!” Ugo protested and raised his arm once again. Motes of fire danced around his palm, but a flick of Wulf’s wrist quickly reminded him to think before he did anything stupid as Kurt grabbed his wife from behind him.

  "What I unfortunately have to do." I met his eyes as his sons were led away, the younger one still crying. "Don't think I enjoy this. But then again, you did try to kill me first. And you know what they say, turnabout is fair play."

  I could see a flicker of disappointment cross Dietrich's face as he realised what I was saying. But he didn't protest. I hoped it was because he understood it was the only real option we had.

  Ralf's eyes, on the other hand, gleamed with anticipation. He raised his cudgel, eager for his revenge. But I stayed his hand before he could do anything he would regret later.

  “Stop. We will be better than him.” I explained as I handed the bailiff over to Dietrich. “Take him to the village square and let the people judge him for his crimes. It's only fair they have a say in what happens to the man who's been exploiting them.”

  It was the closest to a fair trial he would get in this day and age.

  Ralf let out a grunt of disappointment but didn't protest further as he joined Dietrich in gripping Ugo's arms.

  "Stop! Get your hands off me, you dirty peasants!" Ugo shouted as they began dragging him toward the manor’s entrance. "The von Hohengrenzberg will know of this! The Duke will too! And the Emperor! Spilling blessed blood is a grave sin! You will all hang. You will all—"

  His voice grew more distant as they hauled him outside, leaving me alone in the great hall.

  I stood there for a long moment, looking over the aftermath.

  A thin cloud of smoke still hung in the air, irritating my lungs. The hearth fire crackled on, indifferent to everything that had unfolded around it. Outside, the first snow of longwinter continued to fall, slowly covering Rand in a blanket of white.

  Despite the clear victory, I was feeling a bit… empty.

  In my mind, these decisions had seemed straightforward: remove the corrupt noble, establish control, begin improvements. But actually ordering a man to his death, even if he deserved it, was a different thing entirely. Nothing at all like a fantasy movie or a role-playing game might make it seem. Press a button to deal with the problem and move on.

  For fucks sake, I just had a man killed. And as much as he deserved it, was it really my right to do so? And what to do with his family?

  I sighed.

  No, I did the right thing. If there was no magic, maybe I could have done differently, but now I was in another world and I had to play by its rules. I didn’t even need to ask myself whether he would have done the same to me since he already did try to do the exact same thing to me. Besides, this wasn't about revenge or cruelty. It was about necessity. About cutting out the weed to create space for something better to grow and bloom. He was an obstacle that would prevent any kind of improvement. Any kind of progress.

  Yes, it was why I was doing all this in the first place. To use my knowledge to improve lives, to introduce the innovations that could lift people out of poverty and suffering. To bring the spark of industry and progress to this dark world.

  Or at least that is what I told myself to push the thought out of my mind.

  Though damn, it certainly did start off with quite a spark.

  I chuckled humourlessly as I threw one last look to the crackling heart, small embers of burning phosphorus still occasionality flying off into the room.

  One has to wonder what it was saying about me, that my first invention in this world was a chemical weapon.

  I stood up, throwing away my crutch now that I no longer needed it to play the act of a scared and injured prince. My leg still throbbed now that the adrenaline was fading, but I also felt a strange clarity.

  Tomorrow would be a new day.

  And a start of a brave new world.