The Conciege
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ROTLE- Chapter 110- Darkness Obeyed
🕑 Added 2025-04-24 00:17:22 +0000 UTC“Please, I beg of you, if I have offended you in any way, I am sorry. Truly and deeply sorry.”
Ted was on his knees, pleading, like a man begging for his life.
“I have sinned and fallen short,” he pleaded. “I know this. No one knows this more than me. So, please don’t do this to me, Aida.”
Aiden sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing anything to you. And let go of my pants.”
Ted did not obey. Instead, he held on tighter, grabbing on to the fabric of Aiden’s pants. If the thing was elastic, he would’ve stretched it three ways already.
“Then why?” Ted lamented dramatically, looking up at him. “Why are we here?” He let go of Aiden’s leg to gesture at their surroundings with one hand. “Why are we in another fucking forest?!”
Off in the corner, just a single tree away, Valdan and Fjord stood casually. They were watching the scene. They were enjoying the scene.
“For the three hundred and thirty-seventh time, Ted,” Aiden groaned. “Forests are the best places to stay to keep a low profile.”
Ted kissed his teeth. It made an annoyed sound. Still on his knees, he shuffled as he turned away from Aiden. Hands clasped together in a gesture of prayer, he turned his eyes skyward.
“Dear Lord,” he began dramatically, “when I get to heaven, please let me bring my brother.”
Aiden leaned forward and smacked him behind the head. Ted was fast, however, ducking the blow before it met him.
“Die alone, twat,” Aiden snapped. “Why do you have to take me with you?”
Ted gave him a mock scathing look before looking back up to the sky.
Aiden couldn’t help but smile. “Just so you know, I’m going to live at least a full year longer than you. Besides, who said you’re going to heaven.”
After a while Ted dropped his hands, allowing his arms to dangle by his sides in defeat. “What did I do to deserve this?” he muttered to himself as he got up. “Everyone gets a cute younger brother and I get a wood elf. Not even a good one.”
Fjord raised his hand but Valdan stopped him with a shake of his head. “Don’t bother.”
“I was going to ask what a wood elf is,” Fjord said.
Ted dusted the knees of his pants and looked at the boy. “An elf that lives in the woods.”
“Oh.” Fjord looked very confused.
Aiden couldn’t blame him. Only a handful of people still knew that Elves were, in fact, still existing creatures on Nastild. Most people only knew them as mythical beings that had existed once upon a time but had somehow gone extinct.
The story of the division of Nastild was a bit obscure, the hard truth bent and deformed by the passage of time calculated in millennia. Civilizations on the human side of Nastild had risen and fallen since the division. From what the stories told about Elves, they were just like humans. Elves were simply Elves. There were no wood Elves or High Elves or Grand Elves or anything. Just Elves.
Fjord looked at Valdan. “Are they always this dramatic?” he asked in a low voice.
“Just be glad that they are not actively trying to confuse you,” Valdan replied in an equally low voice. Then he turned to Aiden. “But your brother’s got a point. Why are we back in a forest?”
Fjord gestured in one direction of the forest. “A town’s barely a day’s ride from here, too.”
“Two days,” Aiden corrected. “And, like I said, we are laying low. The things we want to do require us to be in a quiet and spacious place. We will not have that in a town.”
“I get back pains every day now,” Ted said. “If I’m diagnosed with anything terminal, my back’s on you, Aida. You. Now,” he looked around, at everyone present. “I’m going off to forget about my brother in meditation—no idea how he thinks I can meditate without a soft bed. Maybe I can find a way to cross this threshold. If anybody needs me… don’t.”
With that, he turned and walked off into the forest.
“Don’t go too far!” Aiden called after him.
“You’re not my mom!” Ted called back as he disappeared into the trees.
It was evening, the sky slowly tainted by the orange touch of a setting sun. They had pulled their jepats into the forest at Aiden’s sudden request, sending them off the main road. Ted hadn’t complained then, settling for only an aghast look at the time.
Valdan and Fjord had obeyed without question.
The trees were not as large as the trees in the Giant’s Garden. They stood as tall as any tree you would expect to see in a forest with sturdy barks of grey or green or brown. Even early into the evening, the sound of creatures filled the air, from the chirping of insects to the slight tweeting of birds in their different talents.
The air smelled earthy as forests tend to smell. It reminded Aiden of earth very much. It was funny how he had been a boy who’d lived in the city, never going out camping, never spending time in nature, yet here he was, being reminded of home by the smell of a forest.
“Is he going to be alright?” Valdan asked, walking up to Aiden.
“He's fine.” Aiden made a nonchalant gesture. “Cranky, but fine.”
Valdan gave him a skeptical look.
“I’m serious,” Aiden said. “We’ve been riding for more than two days. It’s enough to make a person cranky. But the real reason is because there’s finally a town ahead of us and everyone says they can ride the distance without rest.” He shrugged. “And…”
“You said no,” Valdan finished with a smile. “I’m surprised he didn’t throw a bigger tantrum.”
Aiden looked off in the distance Ted had walked off in. A smile still played on his lips. “My brother doesn’t throw a tantrum. He just jokes about the things that are stressing him. But when it gets bad enough, his reaction is unmistakable.”
“How unmistakable?”
Aiden’s smile widened. Ted was a jock in high school. He still remembered the time someone had tried to bully him. Ted had found out about it, and even though Aiden had, in fact, given as good as he had gotten from the group, Ted had found them and been even more brutal.
Even today, he didn’t know what had really happened. All Aiden knew was that he’d given the boys a few black eyes just as they’d given him. However, while he had returned to school the next day, they returned after a week. They had newer bruises, more bruises than Aiden had given them, and two of them had been in casts.
Aiden knew Ted had done it because Ted had been melancholic the entire week and had told him that he wouldn’t have to worry about the boys anymore.
“Very unmistakable,” Aiden said, answering Valdan. “He can be terrifying about it.”
“Uhmmm,” Fjord interrupted. “I’ll go gather wood for the fire for tonight. I’ll be back by nightfall.”
He sounded awkward but happy. Scratching the back of his neck, he walked off into the forest.
Aiden and Valdan watched him go.
“Smart kid,” Valdan said when Fjord was far off. “He thinks we want to have something of a grown-up conversation that we don’t want him to be part of.”
“Or he doesn’t really know how to act in our presence,” Aiden opposed. “But you’re right. Smart kid.”
Valdan was still looking off into the forest. “So what happened? When you told us to leave you alone with him that night I was very worried.”
Aiden knew. “How worried?”
“I thought you were going to kill him.”
“That’s dark.”
“You aren’t really averse to taking lives, Lord Lacheart.”
Aiden could hear it in Valdan’s voice. It wasn’t judgment or condescension or anything. The knight—former knight—was simply stating a fact.
“Nah.” Aiden folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t kill people who don’t deserve it. Fjord didn’t deserve to die.”
“True enough. But what’s making me more curious is his happiness. The kid’s been all smiles ever since.”
“That one’s easy. He finally saw actual growth in his class skills.”
Valdan finally looked at Aiden. “In his [Gambler] class skills? What did you do, play a round of cards with him?”
Aiden chuckled. “Nope. Threatened his life.”
“What?!” Valdan sputtered, aghast.
“It’s fine, I wasn’t really going to take his life.” Aiden waved his shock aside. “Besides, I had to be thorough. There’s a reason—”
Aiden caught himself before he completed the sentence. He frowned slightly. Years in the Order, and he still almost slipped up at times. He was just a terrible liar and actor.
That’s why they moved you from spy to executioner.
Valdan gave him a look. “What were you going to say?”
“How popular is the [Gambler] class?”
“It’s one of the rarest classes,” Valdan answered easily. “Not because it’s hard to get it as a class, even though it’s also hard to get it as a class, but because anybody with half a brain knows not to collect it.”
“Any idea why it’s hard to get in the first place?”
“Everyone on Nastild knows.” Valdan breathed in deeply, as if taking in the scent of the forest. “Everyone gets offered classes based on what they are most closely aligned with What is most natural to them… in a sense. It is even more imprinted if it’s something most natural after you’ve gotten your interface, just before you reach level ten. It’s the reason the king had us teaching you all only combat related activities when you all came. He couldn’t take the risk of you all unlocking classes based on your experiences in your world.”
Aiden nodded in understanding. “You don’t want a [Scholar] or a [Bedwetter] being the hero to save you from the rising darkness.”
“There is no [Bedwetter] class,” Valdan pointed out. “But, yes, you’re right. People don’t gamble enough to get the offer.”
“There are addicts,” Aiden said, playing devil’s advocate.
Valdan chuckled at that. “You’ve got to be living a very terrible sort of life to be a gambling addict by eighteen, Aiden. But you’re right, there are always exceptions to the rules. Anyway, there are often people who get offered the class, regardless. Most of them tend to be kids who grow up in gambling houses. But most of them also have the sense to take any other class that is offered alongside it.”
“Because?”
“Because in the recorded history of Bandiv, and maybe Nastild, there is no talk of a [Gambler] class that got to level one hundred. And only two got to level fifty.”
Aiden couldn’t say he was surprised for two reasons. The first reason was because he’d seen what it had taken to get Fjord that advancement. If the situation had been real, Fjord would not have gotten it. When he really thought about it, the class was as powerful as it was a failure.
Fjord would not have survived if the situation had been real, and in return, he was rewarded with a situational title. As impressive as it was, the [Gambler] class had to fight the worst odds just to grow. In Aiden’s opinion, it wasn’t worth it.
The second reason he wasn’t surprised was because he already knew everything Valdan had told him… and more.
“That said,” Valdan continued. “I believe that some congratulations are in order.”
Aiden blinked. “You’ve lost me.”
“On your growth,” Valdan said, his expression turning slightly confused. “You have crossed the threshold… have you not?”
Aiden shook his head very slowly. “I have not.”
Valdan paused. “Oh.”
“What gave you that idea?” Aiden asked.
“Our fight.”
Aiden smirked. “The one that you lost?”
“One, zero, Lord Lacheart,” Valdan said simply. “That implies the possibility of a one to one score. You are not the kind of guy to quit when you’re up, are you?”
“Nope,” Aiden answered, smiling. “So why did it give you that idea, though?”
“You really don’t know?” Valdan asked, eyes narrowed in skepticism.
“I do not.”
“In the fight, you predicted my every move at some point. I figured you’d crossed the threshold and gotten a skill that allowed you to predict your opponent’s attacks.”
“That’s really not the case.”
“But…” Valdan frowned. “Your eyes.”
“What about them?”
“They were glazed during the fight. As if you couldn’t really see me—recognize me.”
“Oh, that.” Aiden pursed his lips as he thought of how to explain it. It took him a while but he found the words. “When you are fighting an enemy, do you look at their hands, I mean focus on them, or do you try to take all of them in while being aware of their hands.”
“The latter, obviously.”
“And everyone knows how difficult it is, right?”
Valdan nodded.
“What happened that night was me trying to figure something out.”
“And you called me to test the theory not to try and cross the threshold,” Valdan said. It wasn’t a question.
Aiden nodded. “You were the only one that could push me to my limits with it.”
“And what did you figure out?”
“A way to focus on every part of the person I’m fighting against.”
Valdan’s brows furrowed. “Every part?”
“Yes. A way to be aware of the entire person from crown to sole.”
Valdan rubbed his jaw in contemplation. “That is impressive. With a skill like that, you could win any fight.”
To that, Aiden shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way. It only worked on you because I’ve seen you fight a lot and know how you fight. It made it easy to predict you with every move you made. With an unknown enemy, I’ll get my ass handed to me. Also, it takes a lot of focus—if I lose the focus, I lose the awareness. Then there’s the stamina consumption.” Aiden shook his head. “I needed a stamina potion after our spar just to get us back to camp. It’s too difficult a thing to use.”
Valdan made a face as if to say that it made sense a skill so powerful had so many downsides.
“And you still took some hits,” he pointed out.
“They were calculated,” Aiden said. “Being able to predict you didn’t suddenly make me faster and invincible. And some predictions are inevitable. Predicting a punch doesn’t mean you can dodge the punch, some things are just going to happen regardless of what you do. I’ll keep working on it, though. It’s interesting enough.”
“I agree.”
A gentle silence settled between the both of them after that. The sun had finally set and the sky above had grown dark. The late evening had slipped seamlessly into the early night. The skies were slowly littering the sky and the moon was beginning to peak out from the shadows of space.
“It took you days to congratulate me when you thought I crossed the threshold?” Aiden asked with a raised brow after a while.
Valdan sputtered in a chuckle. “Really? You’re focused on that?”
“Of course. Don’t you all do the congratulations immediately? I mean, if I’m at your wedding, I congratulate you during, before, or after the ceremony, I don’t wait three or more days before hitting you up and congratulating you.”
Valdan looked at him funny. The look stayed for a while as if Valdan was contemplating him, trying to figure him out.
In the end, he said, “You do know that I’m human, Lord Lacheart, right?”
“I do,” Aiden answered, not sure where he was going with this.
“And that means I come with the flaws and imperfections that humans come with.”
“I do.”
“One of those imperfections include pride,” Valdan continued. “There is also shame, a nice companion of pride. There is embarrassment as well.”
Aiden nodded. “Fun imperfections that I am aware of.”
“Good.” Valdan nodded. “I am a man who rose to the rank of [Knight] and [Knight of the Crown]. I have possessed a class for longer than a decade. I am also over level sixty.”
Aiden nodded.
“Despite all this time, strength, and experience,” Valdan continued, “I got beat in a spar against a child who hasn’t had a class for even six months, is of a lower level than me, and hasn’t even crossed the threshold. A kid that I taught.” He shrugged. “As proud as I am of your growth, I will admit to some level of shame at my defeat, I needed some time to say the words and mean it—shame free.”
“I see.” It was all Aiden could say. If he had been in Valdan’s shoes, he would’ve offered the congratulations not too long after waking up. But it would not have been shame free. It would not have been a hundred percent.
Aiden could understand that.
He patted Valdan on the shoulder as he spotted Fjord returning with a handful of sticks.
“If it’s any consolation,” he said with an encouraging smile, “I have an old soul.”
“It doesn’t.”
Fjord balanced the stack of wood in one hand and waved. “Found wood!”
“Good kid,” Valdan said with a nod. “Good kid.”
Aiden agreed.
“One more thing,” Valdan said as Fjord drew closer.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve been checking the maps the last few days,” he said. “And I have noticed one very peculiar thing.”
Aiden made no expression. “Just say it, Valdan.”
“We are not getting any closer to Trackback,” Valdan said simply. “Why have you changed your mind? Why is the town two days away from us Dentis?”
“Because we are going for Zen first.”
“Do we need him for Trackback?” Valdan asked with genuine curiosity.
“No.”
Valdan looked to the sky, thoughtful. “Then I don’t understand. Has something changed, Aiden?”
Aiden thought of Zen, he thought of the war soon to befall Nel Quan. He thought of Dentis being closer to Nel Quan than anywhere else and how Zen said he had moved from his home town yet never spoke of the place.
With all those thoughts running through his head, he had only one answer.
“I just have a bad feeling.”
…
“Again!” Oyedi barked.
In the clearing in front of him five men attacked one boy. Each one rushed him with spears in hand. They were precise, skills honed over years of training and life and death situations.
The boy, Ebube, moved his spear with an eerie grace. He spun it from one hand to the other, contorting his body as he did. He bent at an odd angle, avoiding two spear trusts. The clacking of wood filled the air as his spear struck two others aside.
The final spear, its tip blunt to avoid piercing damage, slammed into his calf. It destabilized him a little, shook his balance. Ebube let himself fall to the ground. He slipped into a roll the moment he hit it, pulling himself away from the ground.
“Execute!” Oyedi barked, giving instructions from where he was. “You wield a spear! Distance is your ally!”
All five men rushed after Ebube, but the boy was already on his feet. He struck moving spears aside, eyes keeping track of the men in front of him. He was seamless, smooth. He moved before an attack met its mark.
Sometimes he moved a little slower and he got pain for his sluggishness as blunted spears smacked into him.
Oyedi stood there, an instructor, as the boy struggled to survive against the onslaught of his opponents. Five minutes of sparring passed and the boy was yet to land a hit on any of his opponents. He deflected and evaded, proving more adept at evasion than deflection.
Oyedi stood patiently, watching, assessing. Frowning.
The boy was impressive, especially for someone with a class that was not a combat class. His efficiency in combat situations was the effect of his apathetic ruthlessness. He did what he had to and did it quickly with the tools he had.
With a sigh, Oyedi raised his hand and said, “That’s enough for the evening.”
At his command, all five men came to a halt. They were the elite, members of the king’s guard. The strongest of those who survived the process of gaining the steel bone trait.
Ebube struggled to stay on his feet, panting in his exhaustion.
“My apologies,” he said.
Oyedi shook his head. “Apologies are not in order.”
“We have been doing this for more than a week and I am yet to land a blow on one of them,” the boy said. “It feels like a failure.”
“But each time you last longer.” Oyedi walked towards him. “Each time you take fewer hits. You are getting better.”
“But not good enough.”
Oyedi barked in laughter. He couldn’t contain it. Had the boy thought that a week was enough for him to best five of the best fighters in his kingdom?
If he didn’t know the boy better, he would’ve called it hubris. But he knew the boy. It was not hubris that moved him to it.
“You will live a long life,” he said to Ebube. “It will be a long life of war and violence and constant growth. At the peak of that life, at its epitome, you will not be able to best the five men standing in front of you.”
If his words demotivated the boy, he did not show it. Only exhaustion remained on his face. Oyedi liked that. The lack of emotional effects on the boy. The child could be dying from mental pain and not a drop would show on his face.
It was a good trait in a man destined for a path of violence. It was a necessary trait.
“Has the mastery of your skill [Foresight] gone up?” he asked.
Ebube nodded. “Its growth has slowed but it continues to rise.”
A skill that allowed him to see the path that led to pain. His pain. That was an interesting skill. In fact, it was the skill that Oyedi was most interested in growing. It was a skill he had not heard of in a [Guide] before.
But he was fairly certain that the interface could argue that it was a skill for the class. After all, as its description had said, it was a guide to his pain. All the boy had to do was take a path that led away from the pain.
The skill needed to be stronger and the boy needed to be faster.
“You will be at the heart of the battle when it begins,” he said, looking up to the stars in the night sky. “You will be at the heart of it.” He gestured to the five men. “And they will be with you. They will guard you as you go to meet the woman you have claimed for your own and they will protect you as you cut your way through the battlefield. Understand that this means that they will not allow you to die. They will, however, leave you to suffer the blows you take. Is that understood?”
Ebube nodded. “Yes, my king.”
“Good.” He turned around and left them alone. As he departed, he gave one last instruction. “Again!”
The clacking of sticks and grunts of pain filled the air, declaring his exit.
…
Nestled in a gentle clearing a small campfire flickered alive. Aiden, Valdan, and Fjord sat around it, surrounded by tall trees with shapely as well as misshapen branches. Their leaves swayed in the slow rhythm of the night breeze. Above them the sky was almost a sweep of deep blue where it could’ve been black. It was dotted with stars that flickered lazily, as if they were half-asleep, unsure of whether they had the strength to truly illuminate the sky. The moon seemed to hang low, a sliver of itself, casting a gentle silver line across the clearing.
The forest ground was soft, grass and moss and the occasional stubborn root littering it, but Fjord had cleared the small portion the campfire blazed within. A forest fire was the last thing anyone wanted to start.
The flame of the campfire burned steadily, its orange light licking at the faces around it. Out of nothing but habit, Aiden held his hands out to it as if warming them. Unlike Fjord who was doing the same, he didn’t need it. So close to level fifty, cold and hot temperatures didn’t have much of an effect on him. He still felt them, but just barely, only enough to be aware of the shift in temperature.
“Why do you always do that?” Valdan asked, jousting Aiden to attention.
Aiden looked up from the flickering flame. “Do what?”
Valdan nodded to his hands. “You warm your hands as if you need the heat.”
Aiden looked down again. His hands stared back at him, young and clean. Simple hands. Valdan was right—he didn’t need the fire. But habits died hard.
He had spent time in places where the weather was dense with mana and the cold in the air would freeze the heart of a man below level fifty. He had been in places where the natural weather was so hot that he sweated like a man walking in the desert on Earth.
Aiden had been places, seen things. For all the bad that Nastild had done to him in his past life, he had lived life.
“Habit,” he muttered, eventually. “When there is a flame in a dark night, you warm yourself by it.”
He shrugged as if that was all the answer that was needed.
“Lord Lacheart,” Fjord said into the silence that followed.
Aiden opened his mouth to remind the boy that he was not to be addressed so formally but changed his mind at the last second. In truth, the boy was more comfortable addressing him so formally, and he was tired of constantly having to correct the boy.
“Yes, Fjord.”
“Will your brother be joining us tonight?”
Aiden looked to the east. Somewhere among the trees in that direction, Ted was meditating. He had checked on him when Fjord had kindled the fire and had found him seated like a monk—a different posture from his preferred position of lying down.
Feeling Ted was probably on the brink of something, he had chosen not to interrupt.
“He’s fine,” Aiden answered, even though that was not the question that Fjord was asking. “He’s got it covered.”
Fjord nodded, then shifted awkwardly.
Valdan gave the boy a curious look and Aiden pressed his lips into a thin line.
“I’m listening,” he said.
Fjord paused. “Sorry?”
“I’m listening.” Aiden looked at him. “You want to say something. Say it.”
Scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, Fjord obeyed. “Can we do that thing we did in the forest again? The one with my skill.”
“No.” Aiden shook his head.
Fjord’s jaw dropped in response. “Why not? You saw what I got from it. The stronger I am, the more useful I can be to you and the team.”
“Because it won’t work.” Aiden let the answer settle on the boy for a moment before continuing. “If I put you in such a position again, you could find yourself doubting the truth of it. If I tried to kill you right now, Fjord, you wouldn’t believe it. There will be a part of you that will think there’s a catch to it. So, no.” He shook his head. “That was a one time thing.”
Fjord looked down at the ground, crestfallen. “So that’s it?”
“Not really,” Aiden answered. “Your class is a problem. It’s as simple as that. We can help you kill all the monsters you want, put you through a crash course to level fifty. But that won’t help you.”
“Why?”
Aiden opened his mouth to speak but it was Valdan who answered first.
“Because if you follow that path, you’ll never cross the threshold,” he said. “Every fifty levels, you can only level up through understanding your class and the skills that you have gained. If you level up by just killing anything you can find, you’ll never understand your class well enough to cross that threshold.”
“You will be stuck at forty-nine,” Aiden finished for Valdan. “Perhaps for the rest of your life.”
“Then what do I do?” Fjord looked between the both of them. “How do I grow?”
Aiden paused before delivering the bad news. “By putting your life on the line. You are a [Gambler], Fjord. You grow by beating the odds. It sounds horrible, but that is ultimately the only path for your class. Dedicate yourself to it and you will rise.”
“Or you can settle for a simple life,” Valdan said. “There is nothing wrong with a simple life, boy.”
“I don’t want a sim—”
Aiden hushed Fjord with a gesture. He moved his hands to his lips but didn’t make a shushing sound. Fjord and Valdan understood immediately. They fell silent, eyes gently roaming the shadow of the forest around them.
While they searched with their eyes, Aiden listened with his ears. He had heard a sound. It hadn’t been Ted because it had been the sound of multiple sharp things stabbing into the ground. He waited, calmed his heartbeat.
He heard it again.
It was coming from the east.
He turned abruptly, rising to his feet and snatching his sheathed sword from the ground. Before he could begin to formulate a plan, he heard a voice call out.
“You fucking asshole!”
Aiden frowned. Ted?
Ted stepped out of the darkness. Two of his summoned creatures flanked him on both sides. On his left was the [Basiliker] with its serpentine body and many arachnid legs. On his right was a gorilla twice as tall as him.
“You lied to me,” Ted snarled.
He looked angry. Pissed.
Aiden raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Ted, let’s talk about this.”
“Talk?” Ted spat in anger. “You knew. You knew what I will become.”
Aiden gulped. Ted wasn’t supposed to know that.
“And you lied,” Ted hissed. “You looked me in the eyes and lied.”
“Ted…” Aiden looked back at Valdan and Fjord, then back at Ted. “Not here. Not now.”
Fjord got to his feet very slowly. “Lord Lacheart,” he said, addressing Ted. “Please, I don’t know what is happening, but—”
Something blurred out of the darkness. It ran on all fours, silencing Fjord as it slammed into him and threw him into a tree.
Valdan was already moving, sword swinging to take the creature’s head. The creature zipped to the side with great speed, but he anticipated it. As it landed in its new location, his sword came down, taking its head.
The beast dropped to the ground before evaporating into a mist of black smoke.
“Are you alright?” Valdan asked hurriedly, helping Fjord to his feet. “Are you hurt?”
Fjord shook his head. “It wasn’t that painful.”
“Because it wasn’t meant to be,” Ted said in an ominous voice. “Do not interfere when I am speaking with my brother. This has nothing to do with you.”
Valdan took a step forward but Aiden stopped him with a raised hand.
“No,” he said. “Ted’s right. Take Fjord and keep your distance.”
Ted chuckled darkly. “And what are you going to do, Aida? Take care of me?”
Aiden frowned as Ted stepped closer. He could see it now. It was in the shadow of the night. In the casual relationship the trees had developed with the darkness.
He watched and realized that they were hidden in the darkness, watching. Waiting.
“Ted, let’s talk about this,” Aiden said as Valdan and Fjord retreated into the trees.
“Why?” Ted cocked his head to the side. “So that you can offer me more lies? I can see it in your eyes, brother. The recognition. I asked you what I would become and you said that you had no idea. But here you are, looking at me. You aren’t seeing me right now. No. You are looking at what I will become.”
Please, no, Aiden thought.
He refused to believe that Ted’s fall to the title of [Demon King] had come this early, this soon. It had taken years in his past life. Five years.
Was this his fault? Had his interventions led to this? Had he sped up the process?
“I’m done talking and waiting, Aida,” Ted said. “I’m done taking your lies.”
Aiden unsheathed his sword. In one hand he held the weapon, its steel blade more than happy to draw blood tonight. In his other hand, he held the scabbard.
Words would not work on Ted, at least not tonight.
“You’re going to need more than that, brother,” Ted said, voice dark, almost undulating.
Aiden shook his head. “You won’t kill me.”
“No,” Ted agreed. “But I will make you beg for it.”
Aiden stood, staring at his worst-case scenario—a fight with Ted.
They’d never fought on Nastild, but they’d fought a lot as children. As children, Aiden had lost count of how many times they had fought, but he would always remember how many of those fights he had won.
None.
Aiden brought his hands together and weaved an enchantment onto himself.
[You have used Class skill Enchanted Weave]
…
[You have used Weave of Lesser Speed]
With a shrug of will, he pulled mana from his blackened hand.
[Dimensional Mana detected]
…
[Weave of Lesser Speed is now Weave of Lesser Void Speed]
“Ted,” he said once more, unsure of what to truly say.
“Words, Aida,” Ted said simply, stepping forward. “All you have are words.”
When Ted moved, the darkness behind moved with him. Aiden watched the eyes, counted them in pairs and more. The shadows shifted, gaining form. Monsters—because that was the only word worthy of them—moved with the darkness.
Ted had brought with him an army.
Now, Aiden understood what had happened. He had seen Ted with such an army before. Theodore Lacheart had crossed the Threshold.
And he had brought with him an army of summoned creatures.
“Stand firm, brother,” Ted said, “And take your punishment like a man.”
Then he raised his hand and gestured simply. The gesture said it all. He had given his command. Go forth, it seemed to say.
And everything in the darkness obeyed.
Comments
Danielle Warvel
I have never liked Ted, and can understand why he’s a demon king. He seems like a grade A asshole who hides his true nature behind annoying humor, and possibly a narcissist, or at least incredibly self centered. I really just want him dead and gone.
Alexander B.
Thanks for the Chapter, if Ted is already the Demon lord, than i would consider it a failure in the Story writing, Ted already knew about the time Travel, it makes literally no Sense for Aidan to not tell him about his future as a Demon King, especially since he tried his best to change that outcome.
Keven Leigh
Unfortunately it happened like I expected it to. Aiden can't seem to trust anyone
Kai
Thank you!
Benjamin Walsh
It seems odd to me that Aidan wouldn’t have tried to lead his brother away from being the Demon King. Instead he basically power leveled him and then left him alone to figure out how to cross the threshold. Which of course he didn’t do so quickly last time because he wasn’t power leveled.
