“I don’t see the point in entertaining this, my Lord.”

  “It’s fine, Armael. What’s the harm? The boy already worked miracles before; maybe he can give us another.”

  Eri was in Lord Draevan's study room. Accompanying the nobleman was Seneschal Armael, while Elen was sitting beside the boy with a document in hand.

  The table between them was filled with papers — the apparent haul from the traitor’s lair, recovered after the kidnapping attempt on Dulcina.

  Unfortunately, though the quantity of documents was substantial, none of Draevan’s people could read them.

  “It’s all in code,” Lord Draevan explained. “I had Miss Ravelyn here lend her expertise, but even she could not crack it.”

  “I don’t know why you were expecting anything. I’m just the matron of an orphanage,” the woman replied neutrally.

  “Of course,” Draevan nodded politely, before turning back to Eri. “However, she told me you have an uncanny ability to read languages. Supposedly bordering on supernatural, even.”

  Seneschal Armael snorted. Eri glanced uneasily at Elen.

  The matron nodded back. “It’s your choice.”

  Eri hesitantly picked up a document.

  The words were gibberish; mere lines with no coherence between them. Even so, any code inevitably left a pattern to be discerned.

  Eri had no captured codebook to work with, no grand training in breaking cyphers or deciphering encryptions. Such was the domain of Imperial spymasters and great seers, and even they would require significant time, resources, and manpower to crack any unfamiliar code.

  Eri had none of those, but he did have one thing: he was a big cheating cheater who had a stupidly overpowered Skill System to compensate for any of his deficiencies.

  There were many things the System did not fully explain about its functions — hidden mechanics that Eri only understood after long years of experimentation.

  The act of gaining new Skills was not as straightforward as learning them. Eri knew how to use a spear and had considerable practice with it, but he did not have ‘Spear’ or ‘Spearmanship’ as a Skill.

  To fully obtain a ‘Skill’, Eri discovered that he had to achieve more than just a surface-level understanding of it. The specific requirements eluded him, but Eri theorised that he had to apply that knowledge with genuine aptitude — make it a craft ingrained with personal passion.

  In other words, the System would only acknowledge an ability as a ‘Skill’ if it was intricately tied to his ‘Character’.

  For example, his first two Skills, ‘Reading’ and ‘Athletics’, were obtained from his lifestyle and hobbies. Doing Sidequests in his early years required a lot of physical labour, so he just naturally unlocked ‘Athletics’ one day. Likewise, books were a passion of his — born of his curiosity of the wider world after a lifetime of isolation — and so in time, ‘Reading’ became a Skill as well.

  Turning an ordinary talent into a System Skill was not easy — especially given the mental gymnastics Eri had subjected himself to in order to transform certain sets of ‘knowledge’ into ‘passion’ — but the benefits were undeniably worth it.

  Even a Skill at Student Proficiency granted an obscene amount of power.

  Take ‘Reading’, as an example. Before he obtained it as a Skill, Eri could only understand the common word written in Footfall. After the System granted him the Reading Skill at Student Proficiency, however, the boy discovered he had obtained a basic understanding of every written language in existence, regardless of whether he had learnt or even encountered it before.

  This encompassed even secret codes or made-up languages.

  “The code uses a mixing of an ancient Elven dialect known as Ela’Karth and Dwarven runescript.” Eri began. “The ciphertext is randomly scrambled with a tuning crystal applied at a low Copper frequency, and can be decoded at the same setting. Getting the tuning crystal shouldn’t be a problem, and Kaldreach libraries should have ample language manuscripts to translate Ela’Karth and Dwarven runescript. In the meantime, I can read aloud any text you wish to decode while your men gather the necessary—”

  Seneschal Armael slammed his hands against the table. “My Lord, this is absurd! How can a child possibly decipher any of this with a glance?! We have entertained this farce for long enough, but it is clear now this is some scam made to fool you out of your wealth!”

  Elen snorted. “If we truly are charlatans out to trick ourselves a bit of gold, we would have picked a less desolate House, don’t you think?”

  “My Lord, we have wasted enough time already,” Seneschal Armael stressed, ignoring Elen. “The truth of Lady Dulcina’s kidnapping remains unknown. We should not be indulging in this fantasy of Lady Justinia’s survival, fabricated by these thieves! No doubt they are aligned with the brigands who attacked Her Ladyship in the first place!”

  Eri cleared his throat. “This document also details Forliet’s correspondence within the Duskcrown faction. I’m seeing the names of… ‘Karlai Urliet’, as well as someone simply called the ‘Jabberwork’.”

  Lord Draevan’s expression darkened.

  Seneschal Armael snorted. “A likely story. Did your matron help create such a tale for you, or is this tripe the product of your own imagination? My Lord, I have suggested this before, and while I understand your hesitation, the situation urgently demands your consideration once more: we must delve into Lady Dulcina’s memories of that night and ascertain the truth of what happened. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it is to safely view her memories!”

  Memory scanning spell-machines were standard tools within the higher echelons of society. Elen even once told him her colleagues had used them on the other Aspirants during his Trial to view his performance (they would have used it on him too, had it not been for her interference).

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Recent memories could be viewed with relative ease and clarity, while later memories held greater risks as the extraction process could harm the subject — anything more than a year was considered fatal, and would produce no visible results besides.

  “You are oddly enthused with uncovering her memories of my boy, Seneschal,” Elen remarked casually. “One might find it suspicious.”

  “It is your refusal to cooperate that breeds suspicion, Matron,” Armael countered. “Time and again, we have asked for an explanation on how your child might have ‘saved’ Lady Dulcina from Gunther Stormcaller. Our questions are hardly offensive or outrageous, given the ludicrous circumstances involved, and yet you have repeatedly insisted on your infuriating silence while we have been nothing but patient. A brief demonstration of his abilities would suffice in clearing all doubts. What reason could you possibly have for hiding them at this stage, save for malicious intent?”

  Elen grimaced and remained silent.

  Seneschal Armael… was not wrong. If Eri was being honest, from an outside view, the two of them appeared not just highly suspicious but also possibly culpable in Dulcina’s kidnapping.

  Lord Draevan’s expression seemed tense. Eri did not envy the man’s position at the moment.

  It was clear that the Lord was desperate — a genuine clue at his first daughter’s survival; a chance to finally break himself free of the quagmire he was sinking into.

  Eri could represent that opportunity, but the mystery and mistrust surrounding him were undeniable. In Lord Draevan's eyes, it was impossible to discern whether Eri was truly a kind-hearted boy with incredible hidden powers or if he was just another dangerous trickster in league with the vicious forces arrayed against his House.

  Rationality supported the latter, but desperate hope clung to the former.

  “... Armael, have Captain Lauren bring the rest of the documents we have uncovered,” Draevan commanded, his voice weary. “And have the men fetch everything the boy requests. Let us hope this information we are about to receive will be as enlightening as it is accurate.”

  In the end, it appeared Lord Draevan was a gambling man.

  Or perhaps he just didn’t have much else to lose to that point.

  ~~~

  Time passed once more, and the activity in Castle Elathion only grew more frenetic with each passing dawn.

  “I feel like we should be doing more to help him,” Eri tiredly mumbled as he whetted his daggers, blunt from constant use.

  “You already have,” Elen grumbled, hammering the dents in her armour. “What do you think we’ve been doing non-stop these last few days? I can assure you, all that fighting and killing was not done for our sake.”

  “Well, yes, but… Honestly, it feels like we just keep giving him more trouble.”

  Elen sighed. “It does feel that way, doesn’t it?”

  Three days had passed since Eri had deciphered the documents for Lord Draevan.

  Within those three days, he and Elen had killed over a dozen people, half of whom were Lord Draevan’s own knights and servants.

  To be fair, those retainers couldn’t really be called Lord Draevan’s anymore; the recovered documents of Lady Dulcina’s failed kidnapping had been highly illuminating in uncovering who had been working against House Elathion within the family’s retinue.

  Once Eri had all documents translated, the ‘purge’ had begun. Capture was first attempted under Lord Draevan’s hesitant order. A part of him must have hoped Eri was mistaken.

  Those hopes soon proved false once the suspected individuals started either fighting back or fleeing the castle before they even confronted them. Despite House Elathion’s best efforts, only a few of the traitors were successfully apprehended. Most chose to die fighting, with a few even killing themselves when escape proved inevitable.

  “What loyalty they have for their masters,” Lord Draevan had humorlessly commented when presented with the bodies. “Had I the capability to inspire the same fervour, perhaps my House would not be in such ruin.”

  “I suspect a compulsion spell was sealed within their psyche to prevent capture or betrayal. This level of suicidal dedication is disconcerting,” Elen had offered, her tone hesitantly sympathetic. “Don’t beat yourself too much over it. In any case, the behaviour in itself is a clue. Not many people on the continent are capable of this level of mind magic…”

  Interrogation of the surviving traitors revealed little that the documents had not already offered. The purge continued for three full days, with the castle on complete lockdown. Elen and Eri offered their assistance — Eri because he felt a sense of responsibility, and Elen because she felt responsible for Eri’s senselessness.

  Most were successfully slain or captured, though the handful that managed to escape their hunts and successfully flee Kaldreach greatly worried the pair.

  “I can’t imagine what Lord Draevan must be feeling right now,” Eri murmured. “This much betrayal will affect anyone.”

  “Some days, I feel like the man is on the verge of snapping,” Elen commented uneasily. “It’s like he’s waiting for an excuse to let loose.”

  “You don’t have to say it like that. He’s not a crazy person.”

  “Don’t be fooled by his civil facade. You’re too young to know this, but Lord Draevan holds quite a storied and bloody history back in his prime. It’s not pretty.”

  “I know. The System told me about him before.”

  Of all the ‘character descriptions’ he had seen thus far, Lord Draevan’s ranks as one of the most unsettling.

  \-\

  Draevan Elathion

  Lvl 131 Lord of Frenzied Storms

  Once upon a time, there lived a faithful Hound who lived with a happy human family. One day, however, raiders came with murderous intent, and by dawn, his beloved masters lay slain. Mad with grief, the Hound sought the storm, and when lightning split the sky, the frenized beast caught the thunderbolt in his teeth. With divine weapon in fang, he hunted the butchers who took his family, bringing them long and painful deaths.

  This cheerful fairy tale is in no way related to Lord Draevan, the very reasonable and calm Head of faltering House Elathion.

  \-\

  “I know I said this before, but I’ll say it again,” Elen sighed, shaking Eri from his memory. “We should leave.”

  “I think we invested a little too much into this place to just go now,” Eri mumbled quietly. “Besides, I don’t want to leave. It feels wrong to abandon them.”

  “Then, can we at least kill the Seneschal?” Elen complained. “It’s obvious that snake is planning something.”

  “Alleged snake. The decoded documents didn’t mention his name. We don’t know if he’s really a traitor yet,” Eri replied hesitantly. “Even if the signs are there.”

  Elen and Eri naturally suspected Seneschal Armael as a spy. Unlike the rest of House Elathion, they weren’t blinded by sentimentality to the old man’s years of service, and Armael’s repeated insistence on viewing Dulcina’s memories recently was grating.

  “He’s getting impatient. His superiors are probably hounding him for more information on you,” Elen pointed out.

  “Alleged superiors,” Eri corrected.

  Elen rolled her eyes. “My point is, he’s probably going to try something soon. Lord Draevan likely already suspects him, and though the Lord is still hesitant to outright arrest his own childhood butler without direct evidence, Armael’s running out of time. He must be getting desperate.”

  And desperation led people to do stupid things.

  Eri sighed. “Killing him outright would be a mistake. We still need clues on Justinia’s location in the Slaver Isles. Armael’s blunder could bring us the clue we need.”

  “Careful, now. Giving your opponent the initiative can prove fatal.”

  “A gamble is needed when no better options present themselves. Whatever he throws at us, we will be ready. But just in case, I’ll make a few preparations…”

  Overall, the ordeal left Castle Elathion understaffed and shaken, and while its remaining residents could now rest easy from internal threats…

  External forces would soon meet them.