The Conciege
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ROTLE- Chapter 115- What Have You Done, Aida?
🕑 Added 2025-05-17 17:24:10 +0000 UTCThe night air was stale. It didn’t blow into an evening breeze and it didn’t slither like a snake crawling over your body in the middle of the night while you slept in the forest hiding from enemies.
Valdan hated nights like this, when the tension seepped into the atmosphere. Back where he grew up, there was an old woman, a beggar, who liked to say that human emotions affected the weather just as easily as they affected people. If they were happy, the bright harsh sun could feel like a gentle father’s touch when he tried to teach his son. If enough of them were angry, a gentle summer sun could feel like a drunk father with a point to prove in power.
Valdan had neither been blessed nor cursed to have either of the two types of fathers but he knew enough people with fathers of either ken.
So Valdan stood there with reins to two jepats in his hands as Aiden walked up to the house. He’d asked Valdan to keep his eyes on the cloaked man, but he kept his eyes on both the man and Aiden.
Ted moved to Valdan’s side.
“Is it just me, or is there something off about Aiden?” he asked in a whisper.
Valdan was already looking so he knew what the older Lacheart brother was talking about. There was, in fact, something off with him.
“He’s walking like a lazy but pompous lord,” Valdan answered easily. An expression crossed his face when he really looked at Aiden. He made a surprised sound. “And he’s actually quite good at it.”
“Being lazy?” Ted scoffed. “Please, laziness is the one thing we were good at back home. Our parents didn’t like lazy, so we took any chance we could to be lazy when they were not around.”
Valdan gave him an odd look before simply coming to terms with it. Every family had their own dynamics. The Lacheart brothers always spoke of their parents with fondness and like kids who missed talking to them, yet in all their stories their parents sounded strict. He guessed it didn’t matter what their parents were like as long as they still loved them.
“So, your parents were—”
A sound erupted from the house in front, interrupting Fjord. All eyes went to the house. Aiden had just barged into it, running the door down as he forced himself into the house.
The cloaked man moved almost immediately. Valdan did too.
“Hold this,” he commanded, handing the reins over to Fjord and darted forward.
[Dash] cleared the distance between him and the cloaked man. Valdan anticipated the man and caught him halfway to the door, sword already swinging.
The cloaked man sidestepped his blade in a deft display of speed and spun around him. Valdan reached out with his free hand, grabbing a handful of the cloak, and pulled.
The man reeled back, returning to him. Valdan reversed his grip on his sword and met the man with a pommel to the stomach. Striking him was like striking a wall. A moment after, Valdan realized that the man had caught his pommel with an open hand.
With a flick of the wrist, the cloaked man broke off the pommel of the sword. Valdan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he did not cease his attack. He spun the sword in his grip, allowing the blade to crest through the air to take the man’s head.
The man slapped the blade away in annoyance, grabbed Valdan, and drove his head into his head. Valdan staggered back, tasting blood. The man’s head carried the strength of a thrown boulder. The world waned, and Valdan’s vision blurred slightly.
Suddenly the world spun around him. His legs staggered, struggling to keep themselves beneath him. The man had turned him, and it took Valdan a moment to put things together before he took a kick in the chest. It carried enough force to knock the wind out of him before it sent him flying.
Valdan landed on the ground in front of the house. His ears rang from the blow to his skull even though his ears had not been attacked.
Got to get up, Valdan, he thought to himself. Surprisingly, he heard the thought in Aiden’s voice. Job’s not done.
He pulled himself back to his feet in time to find the cloaked man crushing the head of one of Ted’s summoned creatures with a backhanded slap. Ted was already charging him, though, sword drawn.
He called out as he ran forth.
“We’ve got to—”
A thunderous boom shook the air, drowning out the sound of the scuffle that was going on inside the house and whatever Ted had wanted to say. All heads turned in the direction of the sound and found an eruption of flames off in the distance.
It was within the town, nowhere near its gates.
Was this the war that they could sense? Valdan thought. Had they just walked into the town on the same day the enemies had decided to attack?
Ted recovered first, completing his charge, and swung at the cloaked man. He used the palace sword stance to almost absolute perfection, executing it like one who had trained in it all his life.
The man ducked his head to the side, avoiding the swing casually, and slapped him with the back of his hand.
He’s toying with us, Valdan realized as he got back to his feet. He had no sword to work with now and he held his hand out to the side.
“Fjord!” he called.
The boy reacted immediately, chances were that he had been watching and waiting because a sheathed sword came flying straight into Valdan’s outstretched hand.
Valdan unsheathed the sword in a very uncivilized manner, drawing it from the blade and discarding the scabbard in the same way Aiden tended to.
“Alright!” he barked at the cloaked man, stepping forward. “Round tw—”
The man covered the distance between them and drove his foot into Valdan’s chest again. Valdan felt a rib crack before he was sent flying. He coughed up blood as he soared through the air. His back crashed into something that broke under the weight of him, then he hit the ground in a backward roll.
When he came to a stop, it was against the edge of something. Luckily, his sword was still in his hand.
When the world returned to focus, five men and one woman stood, staring at him in confusion.
Aiden was one of them. He had his sword in hand and was standing against three. In front of Valdan, the wall of the house was broken, and the cloaked man was casually strolling into the house.
Aiden cocked a brow at him and sighed. “Don’t you think three steel-bones are too much? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that they were—”
His arm shot out to the side, aimed for Valdan’s opponent, and he darted in the opposite direction.
Valdan’s opponent caught something in his hand before it hit his face. Whatever it was, it exploded in a gust of fire, engulfing his face.
Valdan scrambled to his feet. Instead of attacking the cloaked man, he went for one of the other men in the room, hoping to take advantage of the element of surprise.
He pulled up short almost immediately, ducking to the side as the tip of a spear’s blade almost skewered his head.
Sword moving into place, he prepared himself for the follow-up attack only to find the man going straight for Aiden. Unhappy about it, he changed his strategy and went for his old assailant—the cloaked man.
The cloaked man was already on Aiden. Valdan was left confused as four men fought Aiden, and he stood his ground against them. He moved gracelessly as he avoided thrusted spears and swinging blows. He staggered, ducked, weaved. Every now and again, his sword shot out, parrying blows so that he could create a distance between him and his assailants, diving over the only table in the room—the table Valdan had slammed into when he’d been kicked into the house.
Aiden turned away a random blow with his bare hand, turning the weakest of the group of men aside so that he could gain leeway to cut the arm of another. The tip of his sword cut a line across the man’s wrist. Blood spilled from it but the man did not stop attacking, spinning into another spear stance that Aiden was forced to stop with a raised leg. The sole of Aiden’s foot kicked into the shaft of the spear, sending the swinging weapon to the side.
With the little freedom he had, he stepped into the man, making it difficult for the others to attack him without attacking their teammate. Aiden threw his body into the man and sent him flying with his full weight.
“Go with him!” Aiden shouted in the direction of the only young man and woman in the room that were not attacking him.
They hesitated.
“NOW!” Aiden roared, catching a spear stab in the crook of his arm and turning the wielder away.
The young man and woman, probably around Aiden’s age, turned and looked at Valdan. Valdan was too busy wondering why the men fighting against Aiden were not using any skills.
Aiden sidestepped a spear thrust and pulled the attack forward, forcing the attacker to overextend. The man who had been coming behind him for a pincer attack was forced to move to avoid being stabbed. Aiden stepped into the man in front of him and stabbed forward.
His assailant was fast, reacting just as quickly as Aiden. He caught the sword by the blade, shifting its path before it pierced his stomach and nodded Aiden.
Aiden’s head reeled back. Valdan moved quickly to assist him only for Aiden to allow himself to drop to the ground instead of trying to steady his stance. With the same amount of gracelessness he had been fighting with, he hit the ground and rolled to the side. When he came back to his feet, his face was fierce.
Everyone stood in place again, nobody was moving.
“Get them out of here, V!” Aiden barked.
“And what makes you think we will let him?” one of them asked, speaking for the first time.
Valdan was beginning to hear the sounds of explosions outside. They were followed by the sounds of flashes that came with skills coming alive.
“Zen,” Aiden said, ignoring the person who had spoken. “Go with him if you want to live. I can’t protect you here.”
Zen—Valdan guessed that was the young man—paused before grabbing his sister by the arm.
“No,” the person that had spoken earlier said. “You do not—”
The man ducked to the side suddenly. Aiden passed him, drawing a line of blood across the edge of his neck.
He missed, Valdan thought, changing his mind immediately.
Aiden hadn’t missed. The other men had simply moved at the same time, displaying a high level of reaction speed. He’d had to weave through two of them and evade a third standing right next to the person that had spoken, all in the blink of an eye.
“You talk too much,” Aiden said as if he had not just gone through a lot to leave that faint injury.
“Lord Ebube,” the cloaked man said. “You should withdraw to safety.”
Aiden cocked his head to the side with a smile. “Ei-bu-bei,” he pronounced the name very carefully. “A very non-Nastild name.”
Valdan paused. Zen and his sister, however, had successfully made their way to him.
Was Aiden trying to say something?
Aiden cocked his head in the opposite direction. “African? It sounds African?”
Ebube froze. “You.”
A slow smile stretched Aiden’s lips. “I know far more than a man alive should, Ebube.”
Valdan began walking back, Zen and the lady with him. He would get them out of the house, then return for Aiden. Aiden just had to hold out long enough. He knew Aiden could.
Ebube suddenly didn’t care for Zen and the girl. Instead, he pointed his spear at Aiden and said, “Kill him.”
All three men with him burst into a flurry of actions. Their attacks came in rhythm. They moved in tandem, an almost perfect symphony.
Instead of waiting for them, Aiden moved to meet them, sword moving in a way Valdan had never seen him display before.
“Move,” Valdan commanded, guiding Zen and the lady out of the house and into the noisy night now that no one was paying them any attention.
“Steel and blood,” Aiden said inside, as he parried a spear and kicked a man’s leg out from under him. “Steel and bone.”
His expression was serious. There was no joviality or sense of cunning. There was no room for anything else. He looked like a man who had committed himself to the fight—a man who had placed his life on the line.
“Blood and ash,” he muttered as a spear took him in the shoulder, ripping a chunk of his coat as it drew some blood. “Sword and ash.”
He winced at the pain but kept on moving. His feet danced along the ground. All gracelessness was gone. Now he was a man with a duty. He moved through all four men, evading and weaving, cutting and slicing. Another spear took him in the abdomen, grazing his coat with enough force to rip another chunk out of it and draw blood.
He winced once more but did not stop moving. His expression did not change.
Valdan turned away from the house and pointed to Ted and Fjord, directing Zen and his companion only to find Ted and five familiars fighting off assailants as Fjord tried to get out of his way.
Valdan turned his attention back to the house. Aiden had gotten bloodier in that short time he had turned away. Valdan was torn, unable to make a decision. Aiden was not the only bloody member of his fight, however. All his opponents were equally bloody. Two now fought with broken spears.
Aiden continued to weave his way through the assailants, taking blows and giving half as much as he got. Valdan realized just how strong Aiden’s enemies were when Aiden tried to clap his hands and one of them slipped his spear between them, anticipating his action.
They could see his weavings. Valdan couldn’t see Aiden’s weavings. To him they were nothing but claps of the hands.
Three of the four men weren’t just stronger than Aiden, they were stronger than Valdan, too.
Aiden slipped beneath an attack that would’ve taken his eye out only to receive a kick to the skull. It dazed him, staggering him back. He regained himself just in time to grab a spear by its blade before it pierced his throat. He turned it aside with bloody fingers and spun into the man by his side.
Even now, none of the men used any skill. Even now, Aiden’s lips continued to move.
Death is not the end, Valdan read Aiden’s lips. Pain is not the enemy.
His sword shot out, and he tore open the stomach of one of the assailants, to Valdan’s surprise. But the man didn’t go down, Valdan watched the contents of his stomach spill out while the man continued charging Aiden.
He wanted to help, attempting to rush in when a blast of green light shot through the air. He stepped to the side, avoiding it just in time only to turn on his new assailant.
Valdan found three of them waiting for him.
It seemed, everything had gone wrong now. There was chaos everywhere. The night was lit with blazing flames as fire consumed the city. People ran for their lives, men, women, and children.
Soldiers died, stabbed through the back by spears. Women were attacked and dragged off. Children suffered fates Valdan did not want to look upon with his eyes.
Aiden had not made a mistake in coming here. Life had just chosen to display its occasional unfairness today.
Looking at the chaos and madness, Valdan knew one thing: one of them would die tonight. The question was who it would be—Ted, Fjord, or Aiden?
He knew who he wanted to live. So, he would kill his enemies and save Aiden. Whatever else happened, he would deal with it as it came.
[You have used Manifesting skill Knight’s Judgement]
Now, the gods only had to stand witness to what was about to—
Valdan froze and so did the assailants around him. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The flames around were suddenly silent. Color bled away from the world as something changed.
A small terror grabbed Valdan by the heel and, for a moment, the world stood still.
It was like standing in the presence of a man that would kill you if you moved. It was like walking into a room where terrible things were happening and knowing that you did not belong there.
Valdan knew this kind of fear. It was the fear of a child realizing that they were about to die.
Slowly, gently, all the heads near him turned.
Their eyes settled on the house. When someone spoke, it was Ted’s voice.
“Oh God,” he said, “what have you done, Aida?”
…
Aiden turned away as Valdan guided Zen and his sister out of the house. He had been surprised to see Ebube. He hadn’t known the boy in his past life, but he knew what all Nastild names sounded like. He’d also known one of the people summoned from Earth at some point. He had been African, dark-skinned with hair like wool.
He had been a nice person, fun. Aiden had gotten stories about Mba-Chukwu from the man during the short time that they’d known each other. Throughout the entire time that they were together, Aiden had pretended to be ignorant whenever the man made a comment that showed that he was from Earth. Why? Because he hadn’t been willing to risk anything.
Ebube was a name he had heard, he just couldn’t remember if Ebube had been important or not. What Aiden knew, however, was that before the final war, there was nobody summoned in Mba-Chukwu that had been alive.
Now, however, there was no point to it as Aiden fought for his life. He ducked and weaved, rolled when he had to, and fled when he could.
He grimaced as a spear ripped the skin from his shoulder. The coat of living material that he was wearing was serving its purpose. It dulled blows and took the brunt of the attacks. Attacks that would normally pierce through him would rip the coat and leave him with cuts—even if devastating—instead of stab wounds.
Aiden turned a blow aside and his sword tore one of the enemies’ stomach open. Unsurprisingly, the man did not stop attacking. Aiden dodged just before the same enemy’s spear stabbed his throat. It left him with a cut on his neck.
A frown marred his face as he did his best to ignore the pain.
“Violence begets violence,” he muttered as if reciting a mantra from some ancient tome. “Death is an inevitability of life.”
The words had no meaning. The sentences were nothing but sentences, a string of words put together. It was no calming mantra taught by the Order or something he’d picked up from some enigmatic tribe during his travels.
It was simply a trick he had developed in his past life. The Oder taught that learning to tolerate pain helped to deal with it.
So, Aiden had learned to distract himself from pain. He still felt it, but not so terribly. He spoke words he had heard, words he could remember, sentences he made up. It helped to calm his mind. It gave him something to focus on, simple words used simply.
His sword claimed someone’s ear, took it from his head. The man gave no reaction and stabbed him with his spear.
With his sword still in motion, Aiden had only one way to save himself from losing his life. His free hand shot up and the spear stabbed straight through his palm.
Aiden didn’t just wince this time, a groan slipped from his lips as he turned the weapon away and shoulder-checked the man, avoiding a flying knee.
“Men die,” he growled. “For something or nothing.”
He moved to weave an enchantment only to be forced to duck out of the way as a spear came for his hand. In this entire fight, he had only used [Enchanted Weave] three times. Now, they kept him from bringing his hands together.
Feeling the weight of the disadvantage that came with a skill that needed actual gestures to activate was daunting. He couldn’t even use [Broken Weave] which was faster even if not stronger because he couldn’t bring his hands together.
But he didn’t let it ruin his resolve.
You wanted a challenge, didn’t you?
The pain in his stabbed hand was a little too much to handle. His distractions weren’t working very well. He was losing a lot of blood.
Not this kind of challenge, he thought to himself.
He ducked beneath a swinging spear and tackled its wielder. He didn’t bring him to the ground, however, throwing himself to the side and coming up to his feet with a swing of his sword.
Something welled up inside him, a familiar feeling. Yet there were no signs, no heralds.
“You’re dying,” Ebube said. He was a part of the fight, but the others had gone out of their way to keep him from receiving any real injuries, at least nothing fatal.
The man with his stomach cut open was beginning to leak more than just blood from his injury.
“So is he,” Aiden said, his voice came out weak and strangled yet he could feel power welling up inside him.
It bubbled in his chest, right beside the weight that had been in his chest ever since killing the poachers from his time in the Naranoff territory.
He still had no idea what the weight was about, but since it didn’t wear him down, he didn’t think too much about it.
Aiden’s eyes darted around, seeking out signs. There were often signs. In his old life there had been signs for him.
Maybe I’m just being pushed to the limit.
“We can take our time,” Ebube said. He spoke without malice or hubris, like someone simply stating a fact. “The city falls tonight, and Feira will be coming with me.”
Aiden couldn’t be bothered about the city. Right now, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted what he felt was happening or not.
At some point, he had been hoping to use his dimensional skill [Reverse summoning]. If he could somehow do to them what he had done to Ted’s summoned creature, he could sow enough confusion to make a difference. But without being able to use [Enchanted Weave] he couldn’t get the red hand that gave him the benefit.
Further growth had been stalled in anticipation of the [Crystal of Existence]. If he grew any more when they got there, then it would make the task harder.
Don’t be so arrogant to believe that you can survive this the way you are, he scolded himself.
Arrogance killed the powerful as much as the powerful killed the powerful.
With that touch of reality in mind, Aiden took a calming breath. At some point in time, the spear that had pierced his hand had been ripped from it.
“You’re right,” he said, holding out his bloody hand. Drops of blood dripped from it, staining the ground. “The city falls tonight.”
Ebube kept his eyes on him; everyone in the house did.
Aiden tapped into the well of power he was feeling building inside of him. Signs were not the only ways people gained access to power, not everyone got guidance. Some people simply willed it into existence.
So, Aiden focused on the well of power, sought a way to release it. He knew with an unknown certainty that if he could pull it out of him, then something would happen.
Ebube cocked his head to the side suddenly, frowned.
“You can’t be…” the boy’s words trailed off as Aiden felt the sensation of countless eyes running through him.
The boy had used [Detect] on him.
Ebube’s frown deepened. “Level forty-nine,” he muttered, and his eyes grew wide in realization. “STOP HIM!”
Everyone burst into motion, but they were not fast enough. Aiden had found a way to channel it.
Some people saw signs that granted them power. Some people simply willed power upon themselves. Some found their own way.
[You have used Class skill Walking Canvas]
Aiden had his eyes on his interface, bloody hand held out in front of him. When it happened, everyone was close enough to kill him, but he was not afraid.
A part of him understood that he would not die tonight.
His interface understood it too.
A notification popped up in front of him.
[Congratulations! You have Leveled Up!]
[Level 49 --> 50]
[You are now Level 50]
…
[You have earned a Manifesting Skill!]
…
[Manifesting skill is activated]
Mana rushed out of Aiden like a tidal wave. The entire forearm of Aiden’s blackened arm turned red…
…And the world fell silent.
[You have used Manifesting skill Enchanted Void]
Comments
conkerer
So I totally missed Chapter 114, and started reading this after 113, only realized after I finished the chapter that there was a missing chapter. Weirdly I somehow feel like reading Chapter 115 before 114 feels more dynamic? More exciting? We already knew they were on their way to find Zen and that there would be an attack, so dropping us right outside the house in a high tension situation feels very Anime in a good way.
IdolTrust
Wait, so Aiden is slowly becoming Eldritch or a void being. That would be even worst then the Demon Lord.
Maxx
[Enchanted Void]. Sounds like a pretty interesting skill. Can't wait to see what it does after this CLIFF HANGER
Mr. Iron
So...toss them into the void and see what happens? Tftc
Sparifankerl
Thanks for the chapter. But what the f*** has he done now?
Kai
Thnk yu!
