Sylvester didn't react. His breath stayed calm; not even his pupil reacted. He had prepared himself for this question long before he even embarked on this journey.
He quickly answered the man. "I didn't touch a hair on him, your majesty. In fact, we were friends. Yes, we had a rough start, but I slowly realised he was just another boy, shouldering the great burden of getting stronger and inheriting your throne. I saw myself in him—As too many people expect a great many things from as well, your majesty."
He manipulated the old man's soft spot by drawing parallels between himself and Rol.
Sylvester's eyes turned slightly watery, and his lips twitched as if he was in the grief of losing a friend. "That day, sothing must have happened. I had t him once before the graduation oath-taking ceremony. But, I only learned about his disappearance when the ceremony began, and his na was called. I searched for him all over the school but found him nowhere. I… I lost two great friends in a single month, sadly—Rol and Markus."
'I'm sorry for using your na, Markus. I hope your soul rests in peace.'
The King's stern expressions turned softer almost instantly as he heard Sylvester's last words in a wobbly voice. Out of shared emotions, he raised his hand and patted Sylvester's shoulder. "Son… Does that an…"
Sylvester nodded firmly and wiped his eyes. "I feel the sa, your majesty. Rol must be out there—alive. Soone can't just die and not be found in a guarded place like the School of Dawn. Perhaps, the Masan Empire took him, as he was to be a strong heir to Riveria, a kingdom stronger than even Gracia. The holy land has no reason to weaken its own backyard when Beastaria sits beyond the sea. Only Masan could wish for Riveria's demise.
"In fact, I tried to find him over the past months while doing my work. Sadly, I'm far too poor and low-ranked to do anything major. But still, I did find sothing when I was up in the North, in Jartel County. There, I found this ring being sold in a jewellery shop."
Sylvester put forward a ring with a giant blue diamond on it. It was beautiful and recognisable since the engravings were too detailed for it to be a random creation.
The King leapt to hold it in his hand. In fact, a few silent tears slid down the man's wrinkly cheek. "R-Rol… My dear son… Where? Where did the shop owner find this?"
Sylvester's shoulder fell. "On the Desert Road—Leading to Sandwall County—to the Masan Empire. Hence, my doubts."
The King's eyes shined instantly. He wiped away his tears and put the ring down. "He's alive! Rol had the talent to be a Grand Wizard. Masan wouldn't be foolish enough to kill such a talent. They must be trying to brainwash him… Son, can you find him if I give you all the resources and tools of my Kingdom?"
'I shall take it anyway.'
Sylvester rubbed his chin as if in deep thought. "We will first need to learn if Rol is there. I'm sure I can bribe a few traders and higher clergyn to get the information. People respect in the Holy Land, after all.
"And, since the Season of Solis has started, many pilgrims will be moving around. So, this is the best ti to find Rol, infiltrate Masan, and bring him back. But… I'm weak, your majesty."
"Nonsense!" King Riveria bood. "If the Shadow of Masan sees you as a challenger, you're not weak. I shall send all four of my Grand Wizards with you. That should do it."
Sylvester agreed wholeheartedly and patted the King's shoulder. "For Rol—I will absolutely do it, your majesty."
The King saw Sylvester as the light at the end of an endless tunnel. The only hope, the only possibility or reason. So, he latched on to it like a bee on a flower.
While Sylvester saw in the King a foolish old man, unable to let go—making him perfect to be manipulated.
'Good, he's completely brainwashed now. It's ti to proceed.'
Sylvester finally moved and took out a bottle from his bag. It was a simple crystal clear bottle with dusky white liquid in it. He then poured four glasses for each of them. "Your Majesty, this is the non-alcoholic beverage made by the Fifth Guardian with his own hands. He gifted it to once, and this has always brought luck. Because of this… I defeated a Soul Eater demon and could stand against a Gracia Grand Wizard.
"What we have planned. The expansion and… bringing my good friend back from those barbarians… Let's start it all with this drink of good luck. Also, your majesty, forgive for my words at the start. I didn't an to disrespect you. It's just… I see Lady Aurora as my sister and dislike hearing anything about my mother. I'm just a man who gets deeply attached to those I choose to make friends and family."
He carefully phrased himself to include the word 'friends'. He wanted the King to wholeheartedly believe that he was friends with Rol. Although he had already slled the emotions, he still didn't want to take any chances.
The King smiled warmly. "That's fine, young man. If anything, I'd have seen you as a lesser man if you had not fought back. No real man would hear his mother being disrespected. Now, pour a glass. Let's see what Fifth Guardian, that old man, made."
The King gestured, and imdiately, the Grand Wizard Atlas ca with Aurora.
Sylvester knew the Grand Wizard was watching him the whole ti, so he stayed careful. "Alright, pick your glasses, and let's toast to good luck."
"I'll take this one." Grand Wizard Atlas suddenly picked up the glass Sylvester poured for the King.
"Ah, of course, safety first," Sylvester stated the obvious, instantly turning the situation easy. But before Atlas could pass his glass, Sylvester did so and extended it towards King Riveria. "Here, your majesty."
The old man chuckled. "So young and full of energy. I wish I had that too… And no need to call Your majesty every second. Just call Old Derek—As my friends do."
'Sadly for you, your desperation for Rol has blinded you, old man. On any other day, you'd have thrown out already.'
Sylvester nodded and delayed everything so that the old King would take his good ti. anwhile, as Sylvester's hand stayed extended with the glass, a certain invisible furry boy carefully slid forward from his shoulder to his palm.
In Miraj's sharp jaws was held an open vial that he carefully lowered, letting the invisible, formless, odourless content fall into the glass. Next, Miraj ran away to the side to use his power. Instead of breathing or tasting his saliva, he let it all go into his extradinsional belly so no toxin would touch him mistakenly. He had practised it hundreds of tis with normal water in the past few days.
The drink was ready. Sylvester let the King take it and then raised his own glass. "Cheers for good luck!"
Clank!
The King was the happiest. He got so many gifts in a single day. Expansion, end of the war, and above all—Hope. So, he bellowed in his weak voice. "For a blessed future!"
Gulp!
Everyone downed it in one go and coughed a little. After all, it was made by Grandpa Monk, and it was one hell of a strong drink.
"This is good." The King praised, looking at his glass.
Sylvester, anwhile, felt nothing but relaxed in his heart. 'May the Lord grant you rciful seven hellish days that are to arrive. Sadly, no matter how much you shall cry, you won't survive.'
"What are you thinking, son?" King Riveria asked him, seeing him in a daze.
Sylvester's eyes turned hazy again, "Rol… My good friend."
________________________
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