— Narrator’s POV —

  Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for has finally arrived—the duel between the two dukes is about to begin.

  As the duel’s official referee

  Representing the duelists are Penny Walker Kevin Chong

  “Mr. Wales brought everything needed for the duel today. He is ready to participate in this exercise,” Kevin said, tone matter-of-fact.

  “Kevin, this is serious,” Penny replied sharply. “Dallas isn’t just going to lose a limb. He’ll likely lose his life.”

  “I’m surprised you doubt Austin’s strengthdownfall

  It was clear—no one was backing down.

  “Alright, then. It seems no agreement has been made. The duel shall commence,” I declared. “Get your weapons ready.”

  Kevin immediately retrieved the bags he’d brought with Austin. Each one contained a rapier and a pair of black gloves.

  Dick

  “Where did Austin even get those swords?” LukeMum’s Ice Cream

  They weren’t alone. Because of the duke’s public announcement, Austin had decided to make the fight seem legal by turning it into a spectacle. The location? The BPS, a well-known tourist spot tied to early American government history.

  “Austin’s family supplied weapons to revolutionaries during the American Revolution,” Mark

  “Brother, how do you even know that?” Luke raised an eyebrow.

  “I thought you knew Mark’s a genius when it comes to obscure historical facts,” Alyssa

  Mark beamed.

  “Ah, get a room, you two,” Luke teased, rolling his eyes at the growing romantic tension.

  “Well then, I hope you don’t regret leaving our business unfinished,” Richard

  “I’ve no business unfinished—except with you,” Dallas

  Richard’s eyes narrowed. Dallas wasn’t wearing the sleek black gloves, but rather soft, white cotton ones.

  “Dallas, this is a serious occasion!” Duke Licker barked. “You dare mock me with those gloves?”

  Oh no. Please take mercy on him, Duke Licker, Penny silently pleaded, seeing the fury in Richard’s eyes.

  Austin merely chuckled. “Dear duke, I wear these for my convenience, as you wear yours.”

  It was time.

  “Three...” I began.

  Richard gritted his teeth, trying to stay calm. “Two…”

  The crowd leaned in, thrilled for some reason by the idea of a real duel happening in front of them.

  “Go!”

  Richard lunged without hesitation, aiming to cleave Austin in two with his rapier. His fury was blinding. But Dallas parried, somehow catching the tip with precision.

  How is that possible? Richard thought. He’s been drinking. He’s a jester, not a fighter.

  “It must be luck,” he muttered and lunged again. Dallas blocked him easily.

  “Impossible!” Richard growled. Dallas never fought in any war, nor entered a single sword competition.

  “You’re thinking too much,” Dallas slurred slightly, returning his attacks. Richard met his blade again, sparks flying.

  “Oh my gosh,” the princess whispered in disbelief. The negotiator—the jester—was holding his own.

  “I thought Austin sucked at fencing,” Mark said as he walked up beside Kevin. “He only took lessons to impress Emily, and he was terrible.”

  “Well,” Kevin shrugged, “Austin always keeps his cards close.”

  “What do you mean?” Mark pressed.

  “Keep this just between us,” Kevin said.

  Luke and Mark nodded solemnly. Alyssa, nearby, also agreed.

  — Reality —

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  “You sure you’ll be okay?” Kevin asked, clinking beers with Austin.

  “Don’t worry, my friend. I’ve realized that even in a new world, I’m still me,” Austin replied.

  New world?! Kevin blinked. “What are you talking about, Austin?”

  Austin exhaled deeply. “What I’m about to say might be hard to believe, but it’s the truth.”

  Kevin could see the seriousness in his friend’s eyes. “Don’t worry. I trust you.”

  That simple sentence confirmed what Dallas had suspected: his friends were genuinely kind. In this new world, they had accepted him, taught him what he needed, and supported him like he’d always belonged.

  It all started with the Princess on the bridge, when she shared her displacement. And now, Dallas Sexton could finally say he had people who believed in him.

  “Look, Kevin... I’m not Austin Wales,” he admitted, the weight of his truth finally dropping.

  “What?”

  “I’m Dallas Sexton. A duke from Belguria. And Penny is the princess. And the guy who challenged me? He’s another duke who hates me. Somehow I brought us here—and now...”

  Kevin handed him an unopened beer. “Here, have another drink. It seems my job is not done yet.”

  Austin chuckled, taking the beer with a grateful nod. For once, speaking his truth didn’t blow up in his face.

  He told Kevin everything: the war, the duel, the princess. Everything you readers already know. He didn’t spoil anything else, but at least someone now knew his side of the story.

  Kevin didn’t quite believe it, but whether it was amnesia or a past life, he chose to support his friend, just like always.

  “Don’t worry, Austin—or should I say, Dallas,” Kevin said. “Nobody else needs to know.”

  “Nah, I want the guys to know too,” Dallas smiled. “Tell them tomorrow during the duel.”

  “Speaking of the duel,” Kevin asked, “how are you going to fight him? He was the military commander.”

  “Relax,” Austin grinned, downing the beer. “I got this.” He winked.

  — Narrator’s POV —

  And indeed, Austin—or should I say Dallas—is holding his own. As both men sweat under the midday sun, Richard grows more disgusted by the second.

  How is he this fast? I’m the greatest swordsman in the empire. I must prove it—to him, to the princess, to the people.

  “Enough games,” Richard declared, trying to command attention from the audience.

  Dallas raised an eyebrow. His opponent was faltering. What’s he planning now?

  “You’ve disrespected the people enough,” the duke roared, charging forward.

  Dallas stepped back, his movement light, almost mocking.

  “How am I disrespecting them?” he asked calmly.

  Is he running away? Richard thought. Coward. Let me corner him like the vermin he is.

  “No matter how fast you run, you’ll still be the laughingstock of the crowd,” Richard snarled, swinging three more times, pushing Dallas towards what was agreed to be the arena's edge.

  The audience held its breath.

  Just as I stepped forward to intervene, Richard’s final strike landed—a massive slash across Dallas’s chest.

  “No!!” Penny screamed, shielding her eyes.

  A cloud of sand burst into the air, hiding both figures.

  Damn it. I screwed up.

  But then—a laugh. Loud, unexpected, and absurd.

  As the dust cleared, there he stood: Dallas, shirtless, grinning, feet planted, sword ready.

  He’s alive? Oh, thank goodness.

  His shirt had been ripped clean off. Austin Wales now stood there, one glove, one rapier, pants still intact. And apparently a model-worthy torso.

  Austin whistled. “My, my, Duke. I didn’t know you were so eager to put me in my place.”

  “Ha! I didn't know you swung that way, man,” Luke joked, unable to resist.

  Duke Licker was fuming, both from embarrassment and the crowd’s laughter. Cameras clicked. Phones flashed.

  Kevin and Mark exchanged a look—they’d be scrubbing these shirtless pics off the internet for days.

  Dallas raised his sword. “You’re right, Duke. But I don’t value honor like you do. What I value… is myself. It doesn't matter if I am a jester at the end of the day.”

  Blasphemy to Richard, who believed honor was everything.

  Dallas smirked, taunting him, forcing Richard to play the fool.

  Driven by rage, Richard attacked again. But this time, I stepped in.

  As his sword came down, I caught it with both gloved hands.

  Don’t worry, dear readers—Baozhai gave me these gloves. They’re made to stop swords cold. Black, just like the ones Dallas discarded. Convenient, no?

  These gloves I’m wearing are crafted with reinforced silk and steel-threaded leather. Stylish and able to stop a duke’s rapier without slicing me in half.

  The crowd gasped. Phones clicked. Penny’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “You will not break the rules of this duel, Duke Richard,” I said firmly, lowering the blade to the sand. A duel can end when an opponent has the touch of one's rapier to the other's body. “The match is over.”

  “But he mocked me!” Richard protested, chest heaving, voice cracking. “He disgraced the name of noblemen everywhere!”

  I tilted my head and whispered to him, “Or maybe you just don’t like losing to someone you thought was beneath you.”

  Richard staggered back, his grip loosening around his weapon. Sweat matted his perfect hair. His blade clattered to the ground.

  The silence that followed was almost holy—except for the very unholy snort from Luke.

  “Did he just almost kill his opponent after he finished them off?” Luke muttered under his breath. “That’s very overkill.”

  Kevin elbowed him, but it was too late. Half the crowd heard. And once one person laughed, it spread like wildfire.

  Austin—or rather, Duke Dallas—took a step forward, his expression unreadable.

  “I never intended to humiliate you Dick,” he said evenly. “Look, referee, let's uncount that last swing.”

  I sighed, for this mess of a duel has lasted long enough. "All right. The winner of the duel is Dick Hughes."

  Everyone who was spectating was happy that the very emotional duel imitation was now over. Everyone except...

  Richard didn’t respond immediately to the announcement of his winning. He turned, his pride shattered like some parts of the tip of this sword, and stormed away without a word.

  The duel was officially over.

  “So... that was something,” Mark said as he approached Austin, as he cleans himself with a towel.

  “I thought I was watching a fantasy drama,” Alyssa added. “Except it had better fencing choreography.”

  Dallas grinned, shirt finally replaced with an oversized hoodie that read “Mum’s Ice Cream – Est. 2010

  “You still sticking with the whole ‘I’m from a magical kingdom’ thing?” Luke asked, not mockingly, but with genuine curiosity now.

  Dallas took a sip. “Yeah. And you’ll see more proof soon.”

  “I mean…” Kevin leaned back in his chair, staring at the stars. “I did watch you parry a trained swordsman while half-drunk.”

  “Oh, do you want to know my secret?” Dallas said, voice low. “I’m always half-drunk.”

  Everyone laughed.

  But beneath the laughter was a strange truth settling in: something had changed. The duel hadn’t just been a performance. It had been a declaration. And maybe... a beginning.

  And so ends the duel of dukes. But if you think this is the climax, dear readers, think again.

  For shame, travel faster than sword strikes. Duke Richard Licker has returned home, clearly with some thoughts in his mind. I'm sure a man like him has taken a huge blow after the duel.

  So much so, Princess Bridget, or Penny Walker, is worried about what got him so defeated, for he had never seen her prince charming so deflated.

  Don't worry, dear readers, for I momentarily distracted her sadness by mentioning the remodeling of the Boston Private Post Office, and after this publicity will surely become a success.

  As for Dallas Sexton? Or Austin Wales? Or whoever he chooses to be?

  Well… let’s just say fate and I are far from finished with him.

  Dallas will be overseeing this project, for both money laundering reasons and to check for the princess's safety. And I, as the manager of this business, what could go wrong with this project?

  Next time on this story, I shall think of brand new ideas on how to get the leads to come together to figure out a way to get out of here.

  Plus, someone other than Dallas/Austin will take the spotlight.