Chapter 14
Bendor Estate
It has been three days since Sylas initialized a new save point and three days since the Prince affird him as a prophet. While Valen went about the castle, inspecting it and talking with people, Sylas largely remained confined within the fancy quarters, trying to learn to read. As it turned out, he did not in fact know the gibberish lines and dots and whatnots of this world, forcing him to learn. Valen occasionally ca about and helped, but since he was fairly busy, Sylas didnt want to take up the young mans ti.
Grunting in frustration, he put the book down and sighed. Unlike on Earth, there was no 'language for dummies' and 'language for beginners' books and leaflets here. Instead, the expectation was that you were taught to read by soone during your early childhood or you just never learned at all. Because of this, it felt like trying to learn English by reading Shakespeare most of the ti as, within a single sentence, Sylas could pick up two words, perhaps, while the rest were just letters and symbols stitched together.
Blah, fuck this, he mumbled and stood up, walking over to what essentially beca a buffet and pouring himself a cup of wine. It was painfully sweet, as though he was drinking raw sugar with so alcohol in it, but it was better than nothing. That noble family should be arriving soon
Valens information on the family was fairly basic, unfortunately, as they were a minor Baron Estate. Their Patriarch was Baron Cyrs Bendor, a fairly unknown man who obtained his noble status so twenty years ago by fighting in the EtherniaVorivard conflict. As far as Valen knew, the man had four children, and no other outstanding features beyond being in charge of the castle. The Prince didnt even know why the man was sent so far up here and what he had done to earn himself this honor.
All the sa, it mattered little to Sylas; despite there being little entertainnt in the middle of nowhere, he had enough on his plate for quite a few, long-winded restarts of the loop in case things went awry. Just to learn the language would likely take months, and that is only considering the most rudintary reading.
Several more days passed similarly, with Valen overseeing the rebuilding of the collapsed part of the wall and with Sylas mostly confined to the inner sanctum, reading, drinking, and sleeping. There were no more prompts, though, admittedly, he did delay going out and picking up a sword. He decided to leave it for the next restart as he felt thered be one. Circumstances behind the invasion were just a bit too perfect when it ca to the Bendors departure. Though Sylas wasnt going to accuse anyone preemptively, he was preparing to accuse them preemptively.
It was on a fairly cold and windy morning that the announcent reverberated throughout the castle: Bendors were returning. Such news would usually be accompanied by so fanfare, but considering that the castle's denizens were exposed to the Prince himself over the last week, the news elicited few cheers and even fewer gasps of amazent, if any.
Sylas wasnt among them, howeverhe was excited for their arrival, if for nothing else but for the break in dry and boring and dull routine hed developed. Additionally, he was also eager for a restart since the castle had almost completely run out of fruits.
He was perched by the gates first thing in the morning, but then he swiftly spun around and bolted away when he realized his testicles were withdrawing into his throat due to how cold it was. He would have sworn it was around eighteen thousand degrees below zero, and wouldnt take any other answer. Inside, though not warm, it was much warr, especially while wrapped inside three layers of thick blankets made from animal hide.
Can you believe that, My Lord? Only that fat commander welcod us at the gates, a high-pitched and sowhat grating voice suddenly spoke from the outside, startling Sylas. Could it be? His smile bead.
Hm, a disinterested grunt was her only reply as the doors open and three figures walked ina man in his sixties, a woman trying to look forty, instead looking seventy, when in fact she was also likely in her sixties, and a young boy/girl(it was indeterminate) that couldnt have been older than three-four.
Arent you going to say sothing?! the woman persisted as she undid her shawl, revealing her sagging neck that was bare of makeup. You are the castles Lord!
Quiet, the man said lowly, clearly distracted by sothing. Take Ader and leave. I need so peace.
But
LEAVE!! a sudden outburst startled both Sylas and the womanno, in fact, it startled the young child the most. The thing imdiately began crying like crazy, and the woman seed on the verge of tears as well. Shaking and shivering, she hurriedly picked her child up and scurried out of the room, slamming the door on her way out, leaving the man alone.
He sighed heavily and, still having not noticed Sylaswhich wasnt strange as he was cooped up behind one of the curtains, not to ntion wrapped up in several layers of blanketswalked over to a small cupboard, swinging it open and, after fiddling around a bit, retrieving a small, palm-sized bottle of sorts. Shit, so thats where you keep the good stuff!
The man undid the cap and swung it down, his face imdiately decreasing in paleness, his cheeks growing rosier. Nonetheless, his expression turned even darker as he leaned against the table.
What the hell happened?! he grumbled, his voice almost bedeviled. Eh? Sylas arched his brows curiously, deciding it was ti he stepped out.
I happened! he exclaid softly as he undid the curtain and walked out, startling the man who imdiately reached for his waist and drew out a three-fingers-wide longsword, dropping the bottle in the process. The thing fell and crashed against the stone, the shards of glass bleeding out everywhere.
Who are you?! How did you get in here?! the man roared a set of questions, his thick beard shaking with his jaw.
I am the reason for your downtrodden mood, young noble, Sylas continued his patronizing ways, leaning against the stone and gingerly picking up a few grapes and nibbling away at them. You expected death, yet life beckoned you. What a miracle!
" Baron Cyrs' eyes widened while the grip on the sword tightened. Sylas already figured he'd die, so it was ti to extract so information. He shuddered at the realization of how happy he was.
Ah, I understand, I understandthe plight of plans and all, Sylas continued. But I couldnt just let it happen. Though I am vastly more important than them, these are all my fellow n, after all.
Just just who are you? How much do you know?! the man growled, clearly expecting Sylas to put up a fight and for him to drive the sword through as ans of torture.
Very little, actually, Sylas, however, had no such intentions. He learned that the best way to get information from soone is to be an idiot who doesnt know anything. People get awfully chatty, feeling superior and all, and human vanity just cant wait to spill all the beans out in the form of bragging. In fact, I know so little its kinda embarrassing. I only know about the wall, about the guard, and about one, true love of every man: e-girls!
humph, wayward beggar! the Baron sneered coldly. What? Just because of that you thought you could threaten ? I shall flay you limb for limb, disrespectful cod!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill out, man! While, yes, I was perfectly content with blackmailing you for so gold, the truth is actually different; suddenly, bum-fuck-outta-nowhere, I beca super suicidal. Like, I cant expect tomorrow's dawn. But rather than just ending my life, I figured I'd give you a head to behead so, you know, you can vent so of the anger off. In return, all I ask is so clarity on what I prevented for the afterlife, I an. Look, I even washed my neck, really, in preparation"
Sylas ramblings seed to confuse Baron as he paused, his grip loosening. Hah! Trying to deceive ?! Fool!
Jesus Christ no, no, Im not trying to deceive you, Sylas sighed yet again. Look at ! Do I look like soone trained in sword and shit? You can cut up twice the way to Sunday and scramble like eggs before I could even reach for my belt! Really, I ca here to offer you my neck, really! Look, I just ask for so clarity, is all. If you cant even give that, then swing away, man. Here, Sylas bent forward, halfway down, pulling the stray hair away from his neck and showcasing an actually clean neck. Go for it. I am ready.
Chop.
You have died.
New Dawn save point initialized.
Ah, goddammit, Sylas woke up grumbling. He truly hoped for at least so information, but perhaps he pushed too hard with the whole chop my neck angle. At the very least, he did learn that the Baron was in on it. From how he behaved, it appeared he didnt realize Prince Valen was in the castle. If he did, hed have been far more eccentric and crazed, thinking his ploy was seen through.
Nonetheless, he at least had a starting point. He had almost a full week to brainwash the young Prince to hate the Baron with the fuel of a thousand suns and lock him up in a dungeon where they could slowly work on wriggling out answers in-between those crooked teeth.
Just like before, he waited for the Prince to return and replayed the hoodwink almost word for word, convincing the Prince that he was, in fact, a prophet, and then offering the young lad a Kingdom. Everything played out the sa, scarily so, in factSylas was sowhat shocked at his power of retention since it was definitely miles better than it was before. Far from perfect, but definitely better.
Following everything, during the third day since the 'New Dawn' and during one of the Prince's few breaks, Sylas decided to drop the bomb.
Prince, he said. God has spoken to .
O-oh? partly excited and partly nervous, Valen focused on Sylas, holding the glass of wine near his lips but never drinking any. What what did He say?
He nad one of the main culprits behind the Ghoulish invasion, Sylas words seed to probe deep through Valens psyche, his expression imdiately shifting to that of windy chill.
Who it was? Who dared betrayed their fellow n?!
it was this castles Baron, Sylas said. Baron Cyrs Bendor.
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