Beneath the darkened outdoor light, this side of the castle looked quite different at this time of night. The air was still somewhat noisy despite the main hall being across two courtyards. Roland could still hear a faint song of collective voices gathered in the air beside him as he made his way. No matter where he was in the castle, that smog of noise was always heard.
This side of the castle was quieter than usual. Roland discovered most of the wide halls were empty. He assumed they shifted all resources elsewhere for the occasion of the day.
When he arrived at the end of the hall, two guards marshalled the outside of the patriarch's door. They stepped aside once he walked between them. The door opened itself, and Roland stepped into his Grandfather's study. Unlike the first time he arrived here, the mood was less grotesquely dark and much more breathable.
A group of elders surrounded a slenderly tall man dressed in lavish leather and a deep violet robe.
'Why does he look younger?' Roland thought to himself. The overbearing aura was still there, but there was an unmissable sense of power and respect coming from the patriarch from this distant place.
The boy stared at his planted feet, almost surprised. The iron body rank made him much more sensitive to those sitting on a higher hill than he was right now. Roland cautiously stood a few away and observed the patriarch in silence.
The present group sensed his arrival but chose to continue their discussion. Roland noticed his Grandfather's tall frame slowly turning towards him. His aged hand lifted rose to silence the noise, and suddenly, all eyes coldly turned to face him in unison.
.
The pressure was unrelenting. Roland lowered his gaze and instantly began cycling his Ki using a breathing technique his death knight taught him.
After a few moments of deliberating, he slightly bowed his head and said without emotion.
"Pardon my interruption, but you sent for me? My lord."
He slowly raised his gaze and briefly caught a flicker in his Grandfather's impassive mask. Once the aged man's lips moved, the usual coldness resurfaced.
"Yes, I did send for you, didn't I?" He waved away the small group of black-robed men surrounding him, amongst whom Roland just noticed the elder with the hunched back gingerly walking in front. His Grandfather waited for the last man to leave before he spoke, almost precisely on cue.
"There's something strange about you. Since you've returned, you've avoided death how many times…poison, assassins, and what was it the other day...kidnapping by a seasoned Wizard?"
Roland stood there wearing a frown. He wasn't that shocked to hear his Grandfather was aware of everything. But the idea that someone had witnessed those moments and not intervened says a lot about this so-called patriarch. Roland took a few breaths to calm himself down. But then a smile crept across his face. He had already mastered locking his anger in the deep cave within his subconscious long before he arrived in this world.
"Your luck has become infectious." Said his Grandfather as a matter of factuality.
"And no one rejoices more than I do to see your body improving. So, while I admire the willpower and the guts. There is no room for you in our army." His Grandfather finally announced. Drawing a curtain against a slithering ray of hope, Roland caressed towards the strongest warrior within this castle.
His eyes lowered in a strange bond of sadness. Roland expected this outcome, yet he still held a small bit of hope for the patriarch. Perhaps a man as strong as he was would be willing to change his fate. Under less bias circumstances, Roland was confident perhaps it would be enough. But now, where lines and schemes were being drawn. He was reminded he couldn't trust the judgement of these people.
For a split second, that cold face of Alyssa cloud resurfaced again. He recounted her scheme and the part they wished he had played. Roland caressed the golden alloy in his pocket.
'She said I just need him to touch it...should i-"
The heralding voice of the patriarch caught him off guard.
"But... your blood is still worth a lot. Your mother already agreed to a wedding on your behalf. And I will honour that choice she made. By allowing you to wed, Alyssa Cloud, the Cloud Kings Neice."
Roland swallowed his anger and clenched his fists tightly. In a moment, he exhaled, and all the tension ran away.
"As you wish, my lord." He responded dutifully.
"B-but my lord, before I go...may I come close and speak something secretly to you?"
After a few moments of thinking and sizing him up, the patriarch drew a slightly surprised look. His Grandfather nodded his head.
Roland stood outside the patriarch's door in silence for a short while, staring at the golden alloy in the palm of his hand. It was strange to hear someone's worth discussed with such disregard. The thought forced him to reflect on the sort of life the boy who once owned this body of his had lived before. Without Omega or anyone to trust, Roland must've felt like the loneliest person in the world.
He took his time making his way back to the other halls located across the two gardens. Roland strolled through the silent courtyard, a graveyard of weathered stone busts of dragons and warriors cast behind the shadows of the chilly night. He lightly scratched the side of his head as he walked through the tiled pathway.
'Tsk, didn't think hearing no I expected would bother me this much.'
Beneath the moon's watchful eye, there was a sense of serenity against the whole world. Roland kept his eyes on the moon as he walked. He shifted his stare momentarily towards the glassed finish to the side, which showed one of the open hallways connecting the library to the dining area within the main house.
Two sneaky-looking figures caught his attention. A man with a dandy mustache, willow eyebrows and silk jet black hair slicked backward . Roland remembered him from the first day he arrived here. He greeted him alongside the Lady of the castle and Mariah. It wasn't uncommon to see guards or servants walking around these halls. Roland didn't interact with the butler or any of the servants, for that matter. He got the feeling a lot of them didn't see any real difference between himself and them.
Roland recalled that weird smile when he presented him with his food.
The second figure had his back facing him, but once he slowly unearthed his face towards him. A cold wind swept through Roland's mind. His brow twitched as his blank glare could almost penetrate the side of the young man's head.
Those squinted eyes and cat-like smile still flashed across his subconscious in moments. The barbaric nature of how he was stabbed still hauntedly sent shivers down his back.
Roland quickly dispelled the haze and, with a clearer mind, observed the relationship between the two men. Judging by the facial expressions, the older gent spoke with some kind of displeasure, and then he placed his hand against the young man's shoulder. The young man said some things, and suddenly, in a fit of rage, the older man grappled the young man's collar and aggressively shouted some things.
The young man bowed in penance. A few minutes passed between them, and the young man took his leave.
Roland watched on with mixed feelings; although he never once found that woman completely innocent, he was a little surprised to finally confirm she had likely plotted to kill him.
'Safe to attribute that poison attempt to her as well then.'
What Roland didn't understand was the end game of their schemes. On the one hand, both the Lady and somehow Alyssa had become in cahoots to murder the patriarch. And to make matters worse, his own involvement was necessary.
'So if they need me, for what I guess it to take the fall for their crimes. Why have they tried to kill me a few times?'
There were pieces still missing, and Roland was having difficulty seeing the entire picture.
"Sigh, let me turn in for the night. I'll handle this in the morning."
Roland sat against the soft bedspread. The drapes to the side were slacked apart, allowing the bold moon's pale light to enter his room. He gazed dreamily into the moonlight, reflecting on the events of the day. He wasn't Zachary anymore; he was really Roland....
"Roland Smoke." He said self, mockingly.
"But who exactly are you, Roland?" He asked no one in particular. With his legs folded together, he laid the book regarding casting an incantation against his lap.
Roland felt restless while observing the quiet skies. The night remained the same since the skies had darkened. The castle fell to a strange, dangerous quiet at this time. Because Roland wasn't confident in his ability to defend himself, he was constantly on alert to the faintest sounds.
At that moment, Roland heard a sound against his door. A cold wind walked into the room, and the floorboards creaked. Roland felt something was off. He shuffled himself towards the edge of the bed and stepped onto the hardboard floor. He took one step towards the closed door.
A chime echoed within his thoughts.
{Danger! Omega detects another heat signature}
Rolands's stomach turned when he heard that bad news and saw no one.
'Shit, who is it this time.'
He frantically searched the room for anything sharp or blunt enough to be considered a weapon but found nothing but the thin glassed lamps. He moved across the creaking floorboards and arrived at the bedside where the lamps sat.
The very unmissable sound of iron being pulled away from a scabbard caressed the silent air. Roland's body immediately froze as he felt a cold bite pressed against the side of his neck. He felt the warm breath first, followed by the soft-sounding voice filtering into his ears.
"Stay still. My blade is too sharp for sudden movements."
Roland's entire body shook. All his instincts transmitted the same response. Don't attempt to move.
"A-Alyssa?" His voice cracked under the weight of his shock.
Without wasting more time, he slowly raised his two arms in surrender. Roland made sure the coldness in his eyes had gone. Before he slowly turned around and performed the most pitiful expression he could muster.
"W-wh-wy did...d-d-o to you." He whimpered pitifully.
Alyssa blinked a few times before a wide grin creased against her face.
"Good, I thought my little pet had forgotten who his Mama was?' Said Alyssa with a playful glare sizing him up.
Roland tried to keep the pitiful facade going, but he did have to wonder why a 16-year-old was calling an 18-year-old girl mama. He couldn't avoid taking a deeper look at the young lady's striking figure. She was clothed in a silk gown, with high socks showcasing her long legs. The dress she wore seemed to do her large bust no favours, barely keeping everything held together in place.
Roland felt his face turning warm. Catching himself before things got worse. He trailed his eyes somewhere else in response to the cold look he received from the beauty.
"Ara! Looks like my suspicions were right. A brief taste of death and my favorite pet has grown bold enough to look me directly in the eyes. Hmm, how unsightly."
{Warning! Omega detects a spike in the air pressure}
From his reading of the body tempering manuals, Roland understood that meant her Ki was leaking out. Which meant she was charging up to attack him.
Roland cursed under his breath. He still had goosebumps, remembering the last time they encountered one another. Roland didn't need a second invitation. He swiftly fell to his knees and desperately crawled towards the slender young girls' feet.
"Forgive me-forgive me! Please forgive this...pet of yours." His head remained firmly pressed against the floorboard. Alyssa remained quiet for a few seconds. And Roland waited.
"Buahahaha!" A childlike laughter erupted from above.
"You're such a pitiful boy, aren't you huahaha! But ohh- Fear not. I already knew you wouldn't be capable of completing the mission tonight. I will forgive you this time, for it seems as though tomorrow is more...better day, so to speak..."
Roland listened in silence, with his head pressed against the cold ground, disregarding his ego while his mind went into a deep thought of planning and execution.
Suddenly, Alyssa raised her foot and stamped down against his head. Roland felt the force of a titan pushing his head deeper into the floorboards. The aged wood broke way too easily as his helm sunk like butter into the ground.
"For disobeying me."
Her leg raised high again and forcefully came down again on his head.
*BANG*
"For showing me disrespect, not only in my presence but in the presence of the patriarch."
*BANG*
"Heh-Heh, what do you think I wouldn't know of your attempt to break our marriage? DO YOU FORGET WHO I AM!" She bellowed.
*BANG* *BANG* *BANG* *BANG*
The sirens of Omegas voice sneered in his mind. It helped distract him from the pain assaulting his head.
{Warrning critical damage taken}
{Warning critical damage taken}
{Warning damage taken}
"Take this, and this, and this"
Roland's face smashed and bounced back and forth. The pain he carried had far exceeded anything he felt during his training. But he didn't make too much of a sound. His bones and flesh were loud enough to drown his soft groans and whimpers.
When Alyssa stopped stomping his head, Roland's entire head was buried in the stone ground. A thick layer of smoke rose out slowly. His body twitched every so often, and thanks to his iron-ranked body, he somehow managed to stay alive.
Despite the throbbing pain and clear embarrassment, Roland didn't move or fight back.
"Phew, ha-ha...I needed that." Alyssa remarked, cracking her knuckles.
"Now then, tomorrow is your last chance. The patriarch will be showing his face at the sparring arena. He will train with the main house, you will show up, and for pity, he will trade 1 or two blows with you. Then you will use the gold alloy Kekeke" she chuckled playfully.
Roland finally moved. Pieces of stone rolled away from his back as he attempted to drag his head away from the hole.
The heavy air pressure lifted. "Remind me again, your pathetic bodily constitution stands at what? A lower
stone tier? Life must suck knowing you'll amass to nothing short of my plaything. Sigh, fear not, I am a merciful bride. Once we're married, I'll drag you along my ascent to Godhood."
Alyssa stepped over Roland's body and measured her footsteps towards the door.
"Well, that'll be all for now...oh right, don't worry about that death knight of yours. To be honest, Grandfather assigning you one is stupid to begin with, hahaha. But I've put measures in place to ensure that thing is occupied whenever I need you.
Anywho, Bye-bye, for now, my little lamb. And good luck."
Alyssa finally left, and Roland gingerly peeled himself out of the ground. He stared at the unconventional hole in the ground whilst droplets of blood poured down like rain. Roland staggered to his feet and limped bitterly towards the mirror. His face ballooned and was practically unrecognisable. Roland already felt the heavy pressure against his eyelids, almost forcing him to keep his eyes in a squint.
The pain wasn't great enough to cause him harm, but the psychological pain ignited a burning white fury within his chest.
Roland lightly poked the swelling, and blood streamed out of the countless cuts. He stared at his horrific injuries and waited. His hoarse wheezes quickly became more subtle and peaceful. His chest heaved in and out in a gentle rhythm. Roland stood there and stayed silent, watching for a long time before it happened.
First, the cuts. The wide wounds began stitching his broken skin together. And suddenly, in minutes, the gaping wounds had been sealed. Roland continued to centre his breathing while watching the wounds against his face heal. The swelling took the longest, and once an hour had passed, Roland's face returned to normal.
He stared at his reflection with a coldness masking the intrigue of what he had witnessed. A crooked smile crept across his boyish features, and a single trail of blood ran down from one nostril.
'So that's how it is here as well. The weak struggle against the ground whilst the strong trample everything beneath their feet.'
Roland remained fixated on the droplets of blood softly falling. He remembered his previous lives. There was a time when he couldn't even afford a loaf of bread and butter to eat. Sleeping on the streets, the cobbled stones were his comfort. So, he spent his days lurking through alleyways, scrounging for scraps or having to defend the little he managed to find from the other homeless folk.
Roland could picture at least two instances where he was shown that might is right, and the cruelty subjected to those considered too weak to defend themselves had also been justified to the masses as right.
He finally wiped away the blood trickling down his nostrils. With an ugly smile, Roland clenched his fist and pledged an oath.
"I don't know who you are, nor do I care about the things you may have done before. But now that I am here, I swear this to you. I vow to make sure we achieve it...the freedom to live as we choose. I promise you this, Roland Smoke. I won't allow anyone to bully us...ever again."