All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

The next morning, Justin awoke to the Jester's Roulette granting him +6 to Power and a "Fireball Mastery" enchantment, allowing him to cast Fireball up to twenty-one times per day—once for each level. He wasn't certain how useful this would be, but another ranged attack option never hurt.

He departed for the Corrin Estate after sending a message through Myrelle's summoning charm. The route had become familiar over recent weeks, and with Atlas racing at full speed through the empty streets of early morning, he arrived just as the sun crested the eastern horizon, painting the sky in gold and rose.

James, beginning his shift at the gate, admitted him without question. Within moments, Justin found himself face-to-face with Myrelle in the mansion's entrance hall.

She came to him dressed for travel, wielding the Sunsting Cane and wearing riding clothes. Not a hair was out of place despite the early hour—presumably a benefit of her Immaculate Presentation boon.

"Did something happen?" she asked. "I was already on my way to the Galarian Estate."

"We should discuss this somewhere private," Justin said quietly.

"Upstairs. Follow me."

She led him through the corridors to a balcony overlooking a courtyard garden. Morning dew glistened on the hedges below, and the only sounds were distant birdsong and the fountain's splash.

"No one will overhear us here," she assured him.

Justin quickly explained the danger posed by the blood crystals, keeping his voice low despite their isolation. He told her he'd had them appraised by his staff Enchanter, who had urged their immediate disposal, citing the risk of attracting Death Worshippers drawn to their power.

"So I need to collect all the crystals we took," Justin concluded. "I have a contact within the Church who will dispose of them properly, no questions asked."

"That would be wise," Myrelle agreed. "I have my own connections within the Church, but the Templars would be the appropriate authority for such contraband. Is that your contact?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Justin replied. "The crystals?"

"Of course. They're safe in my chambers. Come with me—just ensure no one sees you enter."

Justin nodded, following her back through the corridors until they reached Myrelle's suite. She opened the door and closed it behind them.

Justin took in his surroundings. The outer chamber served as a drawing room, its walls lined with packed bookshelves. A vanity station stood against one wall—likely unused given Myrelle's magical grooming ability. Several landscape paintings decorated the space, depicting forests and mountain vistas rather than portraits.

Through an archway, he glimpsed her bedroom, a large four-poster bed draped in rose linens, a collection of enchanted canes and umbrellas mounted on the wall, and the fireblooms he had gifted her weeks ago still fresh in a crystal vase near the window.

Myrelle approached her enchanted pack resting beside the bed. A crimson crystal materialized in her hand—apparently summoned via an auto-find enchantment—which she handed to Justin without hesitation.

Within minutes, every blood crystal she possessed had been transferred to his pack.

"That's all of them," Myrelle confirmed. "I planned to visit Tennyson after Celine, but we can both go. Perhaps splitting up would allow us to cover ground faster."

"Good thinking. I'll handle Tennyson while you approach Celine."

Myrelle nodded. "Consider it done."

Within minutes, both departed the estate on their separate missions. Justin urged Atlas toward the Tennyson family holdings, arriving at the gates. He was making good time, as he saw it; it was just over an hour after dawn.

He informed the footman that his business was urgent.

Tennyson appeared at the entrance within five minutes, still dressed in a silk morning robe that suggested he'd been roused from sleep.

"Ah, Talemaker," he said with irritation. "What brings you here at such an ungodly hour?"

Justin quickly explained the situation, presenting the same story he'd given Myrelle about the crystals' danger and the need for disposal.

As expected, Tennyson proved far less cooperative.

"Absolutely not," he said, crossing his arms. "Those crystals are spoils from my adventure. I have no intention of surrendering them to some anonymous Church contact simply because you claim they're dangerous."

"Lord Tennyson," Justin said, doing his best to keep his tone reasonable, "possession of blood crystals is illegal under royal decree. If they're discovered in your possession, it won't just affect you. The scandal could damage your family's reputation and standing at court."

Tennyson's expression flickered with uncertainty. "Royal decree? I've never heard of such a thing."

"It's not publicized because the materials are rare," Justin explained, improvising based on Templar Tiffany's suggested cover story. "But the penalties are severe: imprisonment, confiscation of titles, permanent exclusion from court. Your father's position, your family's influence—all of it would be jeopardized."

"That's convenient," Tennyson said skeptically. "You appear at dawn with warnings about illegality that no one's mentioned before, demanding I surrender valuable materials. Forgive me if I find your timing suspicious."

Justin recognized he was losing ground. He needed a different approach.

With Insightful Gaze, he read Tennyson's expression deeply while trying to appear as if he weren't doing so.

He had the hunch that Tennyson was putting on a front. It was right to turn up the heat on his family's reputation.

"I understand your skepticism," Justin said. "But consider this: why would I risk my own reputation and business relationships by fabricating such a story? If you don't believe me, consult your family's legal counsel or contacts within the Church. I'm trying to protect all of us from consequences we didn't anticipate."

Tennyson studied him for a long moment, suspicion warring with uncertainty in his expression. "And what if I refuse? What do you intend to do about it, Talemaker?"

Justin, rather than getting angry, simply read his face. The haughty expression was a mask. The young noble's pride was the key.

Somehow, Justin had to make surrender feel like victory.

"Lord Tennyson," Justin said, adopting a more respectful tone, "I understand your position. These crystals represent a real accomplishment—proof of your courage in facing dangers most nobles read about in books. It would be unreasonable of me to ask you to surrender all evidence of that achievement."

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Tennyson's posture shifted slightly, his defensive stance easing.

"What if we reached a compromise?" Justin continued. "You keep one crystal as a trophy—something to remind you of what you accomplished. But the rest must be disposed of properly. One crystal is far less risk than the entire collection."

Of course, Justin wouldn't let him keep it. He'd come back later for it, but he could convince Tennyson to get rid of the majority, that made his job that much easier.

"And why should I agree to even that?" Tennyson asked.

"Because it demonstrates wisdom alongside courage. Any fool can hoard dangerous materials. It takes nobility to recognize when discretion serves better than display." Justin paused. "Besides, if questions arise, possessing a single specimen could be explained as a curiosity. But the giant pile we all acquired? That raises very different questions, don't you think?"

Even Tennyson couldn't argue against that. At least, he let out a sigh. "All right, fine. I keep one crystal. As a trophy. But if I ever discover you're playing me false to enrich yourself, you shall taste my wrath."

"I assure you, I'm on the level, Tennyson. I just need assurance this matter remains confidential."

Before Tennyson could question anything, Justin activated his Gentleman's Agreement skill, feeling the familiar golden shimmer materialize between them.

"What's this?" Tennyson asked. "Some skill?"

Justin nodded. "A simple agreement: you never reveal where these crystals came from, who accompanied you when you acquired them, or any details of that expedition. In exchange, you keep one crystal, and this situation is resolved quietly."

Tennyson was practically pouting. "If I can't tell the story, then there's no point in keeping it."

"Did you not hear a word of what I just said? If the wrong types find it, you'll be in a heap of trouble."

"All right, fine. I agree."

Justin expected the agreement to seal immediately but frowned when the golden light flickered and died.

Justin's stomach dropped. That could only mean one thing: Tennyson was concealing relevant information that would make the agreement impossible to uphold.

"Interesting," Justin said, his voice hardening. "The agreement won't form. Which means you're lying about something. So I'll ask nicely one more time; otherwise, I'll have to assume you're part of this conspiracy."

Tennyson's face reddened. "Part of the... that's absurd, Talemaker! What would I possibly have to gain...?"

"Try again," Justin said coldly. "The truth this time."

The young lord's jaw worked silently for a moment before he finally looked away. "I may have... shown them to my father. Briefly. To explain where I'd been."

Justin felt his carefully maintained composure threatening to crack. "You showed them to your father," he repeated, keeping his voice level through sheer force of will. "When?"

"Last evening, when I returned home."

"And by 'showed,' you mean...?"

Tennyson shifted uncomfortably. "I... I gave him one. As a curiosity. He has an interest in strange artifacts, and I thought—"

"You gave him one," Justin interrupted, his voice barely above a whisper. Every word felt like it was forced through clenched teeth. "You gave a blood crystal to Lord Tennyson."

"He's my father! I didn't think—"

"No, you clearly didn't think at all," Justin said. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Losing his temper would accomplish nothing. "Does anyone else know? Anyone at all?"

"No! Just my father, I swear it."

Justin ran his hand over his face, his mind racing through the implications. Lord Tennyson—a noble with connections throughout the court and likely friends among the conspirators they were investigating.

If he showed that crystal to the wrong person or mentioned it in the wrong conversation...

"All right," Justin said. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to give me every crystal you possess. No more keeping it; we're doing this the hard way. Then you're going to take me to your father. Now."

"I can't just—"

"Now, Lord Tennyson," Justin said, his tone brooking no argument. "Unless you'd prefer I go directly to the Templars with this information and let them handle it. I'm certain they'd be very interested in questioning both you and your father about your possession of contraband."

Tennyson's face went pale. "It's... it's not that I don't want to show you. My father... he actually isn't here right now."

"Not here? That gives us the perfect opportunity to grab it while he's gone."

"I can't just steal something from my father! He'll ask me about it. What am I to say?"

"Tennyson, this is bigger than one family's pride or reputation. You'll have to make something up. Now, take me there."

Tennyson put on a brave face, but it didn't take long for his composure to crack. He'd seen the way Justin had handled that empire. It was either show him the location of the crystal or have Justin break in.

"Let's get this over with, then. My father's study is this way."

Justin followed him up the drive and through the lavishly appointed corridors, past portraits of stern-faced Tennyson ancestors, until they reached a heavy oak door. The younger Tennyson pushed it open, revealing a spacious study lined with bookshelves and display cases filled with specimens, maps, strange artifacts, and curiosities.

"He keeps his collection here," Tennyson said, gesturing to a cabinet. "It should be easy to retrieve. Father organizes everything, and I saw him place the crystal just yesterday—"

He stopped abruptly, staring at an empty pedestal that stood above a table filled with other glowing colored crystals.

"It's not here," Tennyson said, his voice rising with alarm. "It should be here!"

Justin's jaw tightened as the implications sank in. "Your father took it with him?"

"He must have," Tennyson agreed, now looking worried. "He liked to show things off, you know. He probably had questions about it, and a lot of nobles share his hobby."

"And where is your father now?" Justin demanded.

"He left for the palace about thirty minutes ago. He has business with the Queen's Privy Council—some matter about trade regulations in the northern provinces." Tennyson wrung his hands. "But you can't just burst into a Privy Council meeting demanding he surrender—"

"Where is he in the palace?" Justin interrupted. "Which chamber?"

"The East Wing, third floor, but Talemaker, you must understand—my father has done nothing wrong! He has no idea what that crystal represents. If you storm in there making accusations, or worse, if you harm him in any way..." Tennyson's voice took on a desperate edge. "This will trace back to me! To my family. Our reputation will be destroyed!"

"Your reputation will be destroyed?" Justin asked. "Tennyson, if that crystal falls into the wrong hands—if your father mentions it to the wrong person—the consequences will be worse than a damaged reputation. We're talking about people who murder for these materials. Death Worshippers who would gladly eliminate anyone who might lead authorities back to their operations."

"You're being dramatic," Tennyson protested. "It's just a crystal. A curiosity. No one would—"

"No one would what? Kill for it? Enslave a Level 38 Dungeon Delver for weeks to produce them?" Justin stepped closer, his voice low and intense. "That vampire wasn't operating alone. The forces behind this conspiracy command undead drakes. Do you believe they'll hesitate to eliminate a noble who happens to possess evidence of their mining operation?"

Tennyson's hands were shaking now. "What do you intend to do?"

"I'm going to the palace to retrieve that crystal before anyone notices it," Justin said firmly. "You can either help me by providing whatever information I need to navigate the palace and locate your father quickly, or you can obstruct me, and I'll go directly to the Templars. They'll handle this less delicately: questions, investigations, and perhaps even your father being interrogated about how he acquired illegal contraband. Your choice, Tennyson."

"The Templars?" Tennyson's voice cracked. "You can't—my father has done nothing—"

"Then help me fix this before it escalates," Justin said. "Right now, this is containable. Your father made an innocent mistake. But every minute that crystal remains at court, the danger increases. Either I retrieve it quietly, or the Templars descend on your family demanding answers. Which do you prefer?"

Tennyson stood frozen. "If you approach him during a Privy Council session, the Queensguard will stop you. You need credentials to enter that wing, and even then, interrupting business..." He shook his head. "It's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible," Justin said. "I just need to know where he'll be and when I can intercept him without causing a scene. Is there a recess? A break between sessions? Anywhere he might step away from the chamber? What does he look like?"

Tennyson hesitated, fear and calculation warring in his expression. Finally, he reached a decision. "There's typically a break mid-morning for refreshments. The councilors gather in an adjacent salon. You might be able to approach him there if you can gain access to that wing. As for what he looks like... an older version of me. You won't be able to miss him."

"And how do I gain that access?"

"I... I don't know," Tennyson admitted. "I'm not familiar with palace security. Perhaps Lady Myrelle could help? The Corrins have more influence than my family. Lord Corrin is an earl; my father is merely a count."

Justin was already calculating his options. Myrelle was approaching Celine, and he couldn't wait for her to finish. Time was critical. He needed to reach the palace, find Lord Tennyson, and retrieve that crystal before it attracted the wrong kind of attention.

"I'm leaving now," Justin announced. "If I discover your father has shown that crystal to anyone, or if it's missing when I find him, I'm reporting everything to the Templars. Your cooperation, or lack thereof, will be noted in my account."

"Wait—" Tennyson called out, but Justin was already striding from the study.

He could only hope it wasn't too late.