I Hate This Earl (Part One)

When the boys entered the house, they found Ellen pacing anxiously.

"What's going on, Mom?" Ace asked, puzzled.

"Your father hasn't come home," Ellen said. "He should've been back by now."

Matthew couldn't shake the feeling that this had something to do with Ren the Honest. Could it be connected?

[Fucking hell, there's a chance he's just drunk somewhere.]

Matthew had a gut feeling that Elliott wasn't just being dishonest with him—but with himself too.

"He's probably just drinking somewhere," Ace shrugged.

"Not today," Ellen corrected, shaking her head. "Today, he went to sell the swords. Could you go look for him?"

"Of course, Mom." Ace gave her a reassuring smile before turning to Matthew. "C'mon, Elliott. You coming?"

[If you don't go, I swear to the gods, I will find a way to slit my own throat.]

Matthew swallowed hard. "Do you even need to ask?" he said, feigning confidence he didn't have.

Then, the text appeared once more:

[Second Quest]

[Objective: Survive!]

[Reward: Stats Window]

[Penalty: Death]

As they stepped outside, one word ran through Matthew's mind: Fuckin' hell.

…

The sun was fading, swallowed by the horizon as the moon rose in its place. The forest around them darkened as they trudged forward. The boys had decided to check one of Eric's friends' houses first, but when they arrived, the place was empty.

With no other leads, they turned toward the village.

"Hey, what's going on between you and Sofia?" Ace asked, his gaze fixed ahead.

Matthew stiffened. "What do you mean?" he asked, carefully avoiding the question.

"I don't know, dude, you two seem like you're on bad terms." Ace finally turned to look at him.

"We argued," Matthew admitted, making Ace narrow his eyes. "About who loves you more." He smirked before bursting into laughter.

[You finally get it. Bad jokes save the day]

"Ha, ha. Real funny," Ace said, visibly annoyed. "But seriously, what happened?" He placed a hand on Matthew's shoulder.

"Nothing happened, Ace…" Matthew replied, picking up his pace. Then, under his breath, he muttered, "And nothing will."

…

By the time they reached the village, an eerie silence hung in the air. Too quiet.

The only sound came from the Vast Hall. The rest of the village was still, torches unlit, their only source of light spilling from the hall's entrance.

A bad feeling settled in Matthew's stomach.

Ace frowned as they neared the Vast Hall. The faint glow of firelight flickered through the cracks in the wooden doors, casting long, distorted shadows on the ground.

"You feel that?" Ace muttered.

Matthew nodded. He didn't know how to explain it, but something was wrong. A deep, unsettling tension hung in the air, thick enough to choke on. Even Elliott, who usually had something sarcastic to say, was silent.

Ace stepped forward, pushing the door open just enough to peek inside. The hall was packed—men gathered in hushed circles, their voices too low to make out. A few had their hands on their weapons, while others exchanged grim glances.

Then, Matthew spotted him—Eric.

Eric stood at the center of the room, arms crossed, facing a man Matthew had never seen before. The stranger was tall, built like a warrior, with a scar on his face to prove it. He wore dark, reinforced leather, his presence radiating quiet authority. His sharp, unreadable eyes flickered toward the door.

"Thank the gods you brought that slave. Come here, son." The man's voice boomed through the hall.

"Who the hell are you?" Matthew blurted out before he could stop himself. That earned him a sharp elbow from Ace.

[You fucking idiot.]

"That's Michael the Brave," Ace hissed under his breath. "Our Earl."

Matthew stiffened. He knew the title Earl didn't mean the same thing as it did in history books. Here, it was as good as King.

"Shit, I'm sorry— I didn't mean—" Matthew started.

Michael raised a hand, cutting him off. "Where were we?"

"Oh, yeah, How much for the slave?" The Earl continued, motioning toward him.

Eric's expression darkened, his voice turning deadly. "The slave is not for sale. And you can't keep me here until I sell him."

A tense silence filled the room. The flickering torchlight cast jagged shadows on the walls, making everything feel more suffocating.

Matthew's hands curled into fists. He could feel his heart pounding, but he forced himself to stay still.

[Oh, this is bad.] Elliott muttered. [This is really fucking bad.]

Michael the Brave didn't seem fazed by Eric's defiance. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "Eric, Eric, Eric…" He clicked his tongue. "You know how this works. You don't get to say no to me."

Eric didn't move. His entire body was tense, like a drawn bowstring. "You don't get to take from me either."

The Earl let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You're making this difficult." He turned his gaze back to Matthew, studying him. "What's your name, boy?"

Matthew didn't answer. He could feel Ace's eyes on him, silently urging him to be careful.

[Answer him.] Elliott advised.

"…Elliott," Matthew finally said, the name feeling heavy on his tongue.

Michael hummed. "Elliott, huh? You look strong. You fight?"

Matthew glanced at Eric, then back at the Earl. He didn't know what answer would get him out of this situation alive.

[Say no.] Elliott's voice came instantly.

"…No."

Michael's smirk widened. "Liar."

Ace stepped forward, his voice firm. "Earl Michael, sir. We've had a long day—"

"Enough." The Earl's voice cut through the air like a blade. His expression hardened. "Eric, you will sell him to me. Or I'll take him. It's your choice."

The threat hung in the air, unspoken but clear.

[Shit.] Elliott's voice was quieter now. [This is gonna get ugly.]