Zevan paced back and forth in his room while he thought about all that his master had disclosed to him some time ago. Although he trusted his master's words, he was still in disbelief to think the man in the palace was an imposter and not Prince Jarett.

The recent events flashed past his eyes and his brows drew together when he recalled the Crown Prince's strange behavior. The man who was usually amicable and excited all the time had become reticent and withdrawn. His usual blooming smile had vanished and he maintained a sober expression as if the entire world owed him.

Moreover, Prince Jarett had the habit of sparring with him regularly. He would test his personal improvement in skills and power while at the same time measuring the extent of Zevan's improvement. 

Zevan tried to recall the day when they had been last involved in a friendly match. But he came up with a blank mind. He could not remember the date at all, pushing him closer to believe his master's claims. The man's behavior was highly unlike the Prince's and Zevan felt the world spin for a moment.

'Should I investigate the man myself?' He wondered but shook his head immediately when he recollected what his master had ordered him. 'But Master will not find out what I have done. He is currently in the southwestern part of the kingdom and by the time he returns after questioning the other warriors and sorcerers there, I would have finished with my work.'

Zevan had fixed his mind and with that thought, he went in search of the imposter.

'Master, please forgive me for disobeying you. I hope you will understand when you perceive the intentions behind my actions.' Zevan gritted his teeth and apologized to his master a few times while his eyes scanned for the familiar silhouette.

Zevan stopped suddenly when he saw the imposter sitting on the palace veranda while he swirled a chalice of wine. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts and there was no one around him.

Perturbed and irked, Zevan made his way towards the man while he continued scrutinizing him. The man had the face of the Crown Prince but his temperament was completely different from him. While Prince Jarett had the disposition of a valiant warrior, the man before him looked sordid and devious. His gaze was calculative and impossibly condescending.

Zevan's blood boiled as he thought of the Crown Prince. 'I wonder where he is now and if he is safe and well. If he is even alive...Zevan, what are you saying? He must be alive, he had to be alive.' He shook his head immediately, chastizing himself for imagining the worst possible situation. 

'Please be safe. Please.' He wished and glared at the man before him viciously.

'There is no doubt the deaths of our men are somehow related to this imposter. But how?' He wondered. 'What could he gain by killing them?' A notion entered his mind and Zevan felt devasted when he thought of its possibility.

Taking in a deep breath, he approached the imposter who had already sensed his presence.

"I was wondering when you would greet me. What got you thinking for a long time, Zevan?" The man who looked exactly like Prince Jarett questioned.

Staring at the familiar face, Zevan was having a hard time believing that he was not the Prince he had grown up with and was instead an imposter.

"Greetings, Your Highness." He bowed at him unwillingly and even felt bitter when he addressed the man by a title undeserving of him.

"What brought you here, Zevan?" The man questioned, not once facing Zevan directly.

"Your Highness, I was wondering if we could have a friendly battle anytime soon. I have improved significantly since the last time we fought and I wish to test my skills and abilities." Zevan put forth his suggestion without beating around the bush and descried the man's expression for any abnormality.

The imposter's countenance changed for a brief moment. Albeit quick, Zevan caught onto it and his jaw ticked in fury. But he controlled himself, hiding his true emotions behind his smile.

The Crown Prince was missing and the only person who knew about his whereabouts was the man before him. Until they found Prince Jarett, he could do nothing to the impersonator.

"Zevan, the time is not right. Our warriors were killed by a mysterious force and until we catch the person behind this massacre, we are in grave danger. We should be thinking of ways to catch hold of the murderer rather than such trivial things." The man rebuked and clicked his tongue while he continued to swirl the wine in the chalice.

'What a hypocrite!' Zevan thought. Since you are impersonating His Highness, should you at least not put on a convincing act? You are preaching to me while you are sitting here drinking wine. How convenient!' He grumbled silently, killing the imposter a thousand times in his mind. 

"You are right, Your Highness. But I was too disturbed to think about anything before Master Elion and the others returned. So, I wanted to distract myself." Zevan reasoned and the imposter stood up suddenly.

"Zevan, there are other ways to keep yourself occupied. I have some matters to attend to. Play with yourself."

With that, the imposter walked away, leaving a fuming Zevan behind. 'If we were on a battlefield, you would be a crushed ant right now.' 

Since his goal was not achieved, he did not continue lingering around the place anymore. With a dark face, he left the palace and entered the grounds behind where the royal army trained.

The people were training among themselves intensely. The deaths of the valorous men had shrouded the entire kingdom in grief and aggression and everyone was filled with a mad thirst for vengeance. The enemy was unknown and the danger was lurking around in silence. The war was inevitable and they had to prepare for it.

'I wonder how the people will react if were to reveal that Prince Jarett is missing.' Zevan mused, having the impulse to divulge the truth to everyone. But he withheld himself, suppressing his fury and frustration for the time being. Any reckless action would only put the prince in danger. They were at a disadvantage and had to choose every step carefully.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty," Zevan heard his master's panicked cry in his mind and he stiffened immediately. His heart pounded madly in fear as an ominous feeling crept up on him.

"This is bad, Your Majesty."

"What happened, Elion? Why are you this agitated?" Zevan heard the King's alarmed voice, who was yet to realize that his master had included him too in the conversation.

"Your Majesty, the entire southwestern battalion has been wiped out. Nobody has survived the ordeal."