16. The Conflict.
[Reward: Character Emergence (+0.2)]
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[Received.]
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[Character Emergence]
Player003: 1.1/100
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[Character Emergence has exceeded 1 percent!]
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[Congratulations!]
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[Hidden challenge completed: Overcoming Adversity!]
[Reward: Passive skill
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[Received.]
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[Status]
Name: Mordret Valorborn.
True Name: [???]
Constellation: The Cursed Child.
Rank: Vile (Rank 6) → (Rank 7) (Demoted)
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Aspect: Reflectomancer. (Divine Aspect).
Attributes: [Dominance], [One of the Mimics], [Hollow], [Danger Assessment].
Skills: [Extract], [Mirrorweave], [Killing Blow], [Calm]
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[The Sinland desires Player003 to face the impending storm with serenity!]
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[Calm: Amidst the tempestuous storms, maintaining a composed demeanor becomes invaluable. Especially for the astute crushed child!]
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[Calm prevents the boiling of blood and preserves the tranquility of a serene day.]
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"Hmm…" A soothing sensation enveloped Mordret as the passive skill
The skill's immediate impact enhanced his reading and comprehension speed, akin to oiling a well-tuned engine, smoothing the gears of his mind.
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The following day, Mordret readied himself to explore the mansion. Preferring not to be confined to a room solely filled with books, he embraced his inner Zephyr, a spirit inclined toward the outdoors.
"Ellie, be my guide around the mansion," he declared. Bound by her previous request, Eliza reluctantly agreed, realizing her position as his dedicated servant.
Though reluctance danced in her eyes, she yielded before the authority of her Lord.
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The mansion, a two-story structure, stood on the outskirts, nestled on the fringes of the three villages.
Mordret's surprise heightened as he absorbed this knowledge. In contrast to the conventional wisdom that would place a lord's residence at the heart of his domain for optimal protection, Mordret's intentions swam against the current.
"My Lord, the mansion's placement facilitates swift access to the beast tides," Eliza provided as an explanation.
However, this answer only stirred the surface of Mordret's intrigue. The veracity of her words required his personal inquiry.
Within the mansion's halls, Zephyr found himself dumbstruck by the intricacy of its design. Every nook and corner bore witness to meticulous craftsmanship and attention to detail, each room weaving a narrative of its own.
Whenever he teetered on the precipice of bewilderment, his queries found solace in Eliza's insights. She navigated his curiosity, unveiling layers of understanding as she answered each query with finesse.
The mansion's architecture, ingeniously arranged, ensured optimal air circulation and illumination. Sunlight kissed every chamber, granting it vitality throughout the day.
Yet, an enigma persisted, a question that incessantly echoed within Mordret's mind.
"Why is my chamber devoid of windows?" A hesitation clung to Eliza's response, her voice faltering.
"T-that…" Her stammer caught Mordret's attention, casting a shadow of perplexity across his features.
Unexpectedly, this particular inquiry met silence on Eliza's part.
"Due to the villagers, My Lord." A sigh escaped Eliza's lips as she finally answered, bearing the weight of withheld truth.
"Villagers?" Mordret's bewilderment swelled, his intrigue now intertwined with a sense of unease.
"Yes…" Eliza hesitated before continuing, gathering her thoughts for the revelation that followed.
"For the past four years, My Lord held the title of Baron in these lands. Yet, owing to the refusal to pay taxes – Soul Shards – the viscount withdrew his support during beast raids." Seating Mordret, Eliza served him refreshments, her narrative unfolding.
"Consequently, as the beast raids bear their merciless fangs, the villagers find themselves pressed into battle alongside their Lord. This unrelenting struggle deprives them of the means to tend to the land or pursue the intimacies of life." Mordret found himself choking on her last words.
The implications were staggering. Who could conceive of such a merciless approach? Was Mordret himself the unwitting architect of this torment?
However, Zephyr refrained from drawing conclusions and awaited Eliza's completion of the narrative.
"The viscount has remained discontent with the Lord since then… He demands quadruple taxes if the Lord intends to retain his army." A somber expression settled on Mordret's countenance.
"As for the windows… They were removed due to a prior incident when villagers attempted unauthorized entry through your chamber. Hence, you decided to eliminate the windows." Zephyr bit back the urge to facepalm, stifling the incredulity that surged within him.
'It's akin to breaking a clock to halt time…' A visible sigh escaped Mordret's lips, as his frustration surfaced.
His domain encompassed three villages, and as a baron, it fell upon his shoulders to safeguard them, even if it meant swallowing his pride before the viscount. Yet, Zephyr's comprehension of the entire discord remained incomplete, which impelled him to seek a more comprehensive understanding.
"However, why resort to window removal instead of resolving the root issue with the villagers?" Mordret posed the query, his voice tinged with earnest curiosity.
Eliza exhaled audibly at his question, her response infused with a measure of resignation.
"My Lord, during your research endeavors, engaging with the villagers was deemed unnecessary. The village chief, whose demise occurred during the third beast raid, has left a divided populace in his wake." Eliza embarked on an explanation, weaving the threads of the complex situation.
"The first faction remains staunchly aligned with the Lord, grounded in a sense of indebtedness. My Lord was their pillar of refuge following the viscount's abandonment of their safety. As for the second faction…" Disgust contorted her features momentarily. "The ungrateful lot seeks to ingratiate themselves with the viscount's protection, covertly conspiring to overthrow My Lord."
A nod from Mordret acknowledged the information, a rudimentary understanding of the broader conflict settling in his mind.
Abruptly, a notion struck Zephyr.
"Ellie, recount the events of the most recent Beast Raid. How many villagers perished?" Mordret's question caught Eliza off guard. Her hand, poised with a kettle of tea, suspended in midair.
Her reaction spurred a growing sense of unease in Mordret. 'There's more beneath the surface.' He sighed internally.
"Provide an overview of the events surrounding that Beast Raid." Mordret pressed forward with an assertive inquiry, his relentless pursuit of truth leaving little room for evasion.
As a dutiful servant, Eliza finally relented.
"It marked the most catastrophic Beast Raid My Lord has ever faced." The severity of Mordret's injuries attested to this, leaving no room for skepticism.
"As for the casualties… Seven sustained injuries and three met their demise." Eliza dispensed with obfuscation, offering a candid account.
"Among the deceased, two belonged to the core of My Lord's main forces… This subsequently prompted the villagers–" At that opportune juncture, a trio of consecutive knocks resonated on the door, signaling the uninvited guests' arrival.
Eliza's sigh conveyed the weight of her responsibilities, the burden of interfacing with the villagers temporarily falling upon her.
"Ellie?" Mordret's questioning gaze locked onto her, awaiting her confirmation. "They are here, My Lord. The villagers seeking an audience with you," Eliza's reluctance gave way to Mordret's insistent stare, compelling her to motion and unlatch the door.
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Four figures crossed the threshold into the mansion.
"We extend our wishes for the Lord's well-being." A woman, her hair black interwoven with strands of white, addressed Eliza with a tone brimming with respect.
"Hey! Why the hell are you showing reverence to a servant?" A young blonde woman accompanying the black-haired woman interjected, her tone replete with discontent.
"Karen, I won't tolerate repetition. If you harbor aspirations of marrying Jon, abstain from uttering a single insolent word," the woman's eyes gleamed with a glint of peril, prompting the blonde, Karen, to begrudgingly recede while grinding her teeth.
"Mother, perhaps you should–" The man alongside the black-haired woman, Jon, commenced a sentence but desisted upon encountering the very glare he sought to address. "Do you require anything, Jon?" Her words bore a sharp edge, akin to a well-honed spear, compelling Jon to demur, while his attempt to engage with Karen faded into nothingness. "I won't abide disrespect towards My Lord," Eliza admonished the group with a measured gaze. An elderly woman reciprocated her gaze with unyielding confidence.
"Follow." Eliza's directive followed her steadfast glare, leading the ensemble deeper within the mansion.
"Sarena, my child, come along," the woman held Sarena, who displayed visible fluster, guiding her with a gentle yet assured hand.
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Seated upon an ornate sofa, Mordret indulged in a sip of tea as the quartet entered the Hall.
It appeared that the time had come for Zephyr to fathom the enigma that was Mordret.
***
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