Chapter 63
Everfrost
Following a night of rest and another day and night of tallying and organizing everything, the entourage turned around and headed back toward the castle, nearly a hundred men and some twenty women stronger than when they departed. By Sylas’ calculations, they should make it back just in time before the first massive blizzard which will likely bury all the mountain roads underneath four-five feet of unthreadable snow.
After his conversation with Derrek, the two men chatted once more, but mostly just cementing what they'd already said. Neither shared a mum with anybody else as, for the time being, it was unnecessary. Though Sylas had all the intentions of informing Valen of everything, he didn't want to break the celebratory mood the Prince had. After all, this was his second successful campaign—the first being the defense of the castle.
By now, his image had been solidified in the men’s minds—he was the man who heralded them to two victories, the second of which had the least number of casualties. Sylas had sternly warned the Prince not to say to anyone that it was him who offed Dyn. Instead, the credit whole went to Valen himself, which made him seem all that more impressive in the eyes of others.
Because of that request, however, Sylas was currently ‘enjoying’ being glared at and eyed inside the palanquin, with Valen often scoffing and looking away—never saying a word, however. Sylas played along and didn’t speak, mostly consolidating everything he’d learned thus far.
Considering how up-and-down his life in this world has been ever since his arrival, he was actually fairly happy with how much he’d learned. In fact, he likely knew more about at least this aspect of the world than most other folks in the Kingdom. Though in part, it was entirely because of the circumstances and the people with whom he interacted, he felt he still deserved some level of credit.
From what he understood, the entire story dated back to before Ethernia Kingdom was founded. It wasn't just Ethernia—all other Kingdoms on the peninsula were founded roughly within the same timeframe. They likely arrived either from across the seas or further south in the continent and, somehow, someway, had means of controlling the Ghouls and the undead in general. They used that to help them break the Empire that already stood on the peninsula completely, destroying it.
What Sylas didn’t know, however, was why they elected to hide it—as it was an Empire, there were likely signs everywhere. This meant that they’d have to burn and bury and destroy countless things, and silence everyone and everything who wanted to tell tales about the fallen Empire.
Nonetheless, he was less concerned with the ‘whys’ for the moment and more with the ‘hows’ and ‘whens’ and ‘wheres’. Beyond the things he’d ascertained, he actually had some new suspicions: namely, he suspected that the cult, the Shadows, were remnants of the Empire—or at least its top brass was. That could explain their want to have the dead consume the entire peninsula, as it would be an act of poetic revenge, but he wasn't completely certain that was the case. And, even if it was, there likely was more to the story there.
He also wanted to reset the loop and try to squeeze out of Derrek who the ‘Children’ were and what the hell did he mean when he said the ‘Way’. Before that, however, he wanted to play it out until they at least arrive back in the castle, to confirm there wouldn’t be any hiccups along the way.
Sighing, he pulled the curtain back slightly and looked outside. It was snowing—it was thin snow, the bothersome one rather than the one that piles on. The snowflakes fell lonely and scared, seemingly, melting upon the briefest of touches. The winter was here, he knew, and it was here to stay for months to come.
He had also drawn up plans inside his head on what he will focus on—firstly, he actually wanted to focus mostly on talismans. As they’re entirely independent of the resets, he wanted to learn as much about them immediately, and then focus on the other things. Though it was likely a pipe dream for him to become as efficient as Ryne, he at least wanted to be a quasi-Exorcist based on his knowledge and abilities.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Past that, he also wanted to focus on magic—what he knew, at the moment, was simply to draw it, recognize it, and coalesce it. And how to energize the Shard with it. Past that, however, he was unable to properly utilize it in any meaningful way.
And, lastly, it was the swordsmanship. He had a clear goal—the quest that the system gave him. But he knew that it would likely take months, if not years, within the loops to make any meaningful progress. That’s not to mention the possibility of his body, once again, falling behind. Though those were all the ‘good’ reasons, he mostly wanted to focus on other things because he’d gotten bored with swinging a sword all day long. There was more to life than that, he mused.
“I never asked you,” Valen suddenly broke the silence. “What did you and Derrek talk about?”
“Things,” Sylas replied vaguely.
“… am I still not worthy to know?” Valen asked, appearing disappointed.
“Heavy things, my Prince,” Sylas smiled faintly. “I simply didn’t want to end the positive mood. We shall discuss it once we’re back in the castle, inside a warm room. What about you? Did you find any treasures?”
“Hah, hardly,” Valen scoffed, leaning back. “Some three-four hundred coins, a few basic talismans, and some food and firewood. Though the coins are enough to buy some extra supplies, they are worthless until the Spring. And the rest… ah, it will barely cover what we expended getting there and back. Right, we did find this,” Valen said, reaching into his inner pocket and taking out a small object—it was a rock, Sylas realized, jagged and crude, silver-dyed. “Though it looks like an ordinary rock, it was found inside that Leader’s quarters, so I took it with me hoping you might know what it is.”
“…” Sylas took it gingerly, his eyebrows dancing. His expectations were quickly fulfilled as a window appeared in front of him.
You have discovered… Shard of Everfrost.
New Quest: ‘Everfrost’
Content: recharge the Shard
Reward: Information about the Shard
“You seem to know what it is?” Valen asked expectantly.
“Partly,” Sylas replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s a Shard of Everfrost. I’ve seen it depicted in some Ancient Writs, but I nary know its usage. Mind if I keep it? I’d like to inspect it further.”
“Of course,” Valen nodded. Though he was slightly disappointed, it wasn’t as though he had high hopes. There was still a chance, after all, that it might be something valuable. “Let me know if you need anything to help you.”
“… never mind that. What do you plan on doing with the bandits?” Sylas quizzed, prompting Valen to abruptly sigh.
“I… I don’t know,” the Prince replied soulfully. “I want to put them to work, but… can I? Should I risk potentially the lives of the castle’s people? But not utilizing them isn’t an option either. It just means our dungeons will be overflowing and there’d be an extra hundred mouths to feed. Do you have any suggestions?”
“Vet them,” Sylas said. “None of them are necessarily a good crop, but it doesn’t mean they’re irredeemable either.” Just like Cyrs, Sylas almost added but recalled that he never shared the Baron’s story with Valen. “We just have to find those who can be saved.”
“… that’s right,” Valen nodded. “I can’t be naïve, but I can’t simply ignore their plight either. Though murderers have no place in my Kingdom, petty thieves who stole to survive, or those who’ve spoken up against abuses… those people have no reason to stand next to the monsters.”
Sylas glanced at Valen—more and more, he was realizing, the Prince was a bit… naïve. No, perhaps hopelessly optimistic was a more apt description. For the time being, Sylas didn’t say anything—there was no reason to. In part, it was why the men in the castle liked him so much. It went past the Princely coating and had more to do with the man himself. He chatted regularly even with the most ordinary guards, and people recognized that.
His hopeful outlook on not just the Kingdom but people, in general, made others want to believe. And, because of that, it wasn't necessarily a bad trait. However, one day or another, Sylas knew, he'd slowly have to start chipping away at the naïve ideas, and open the young, inexperienced man's eyes to the harsh and cruel realities of everyday life.
After all, petty thieves are rarely the ones running into the deadly mountains to hide. People who go that far to hide… have far greater reasons than ‘he stole an apple because he was hungry’.
It’s fine, for now, Sylas shook his head. In fact, it was perhaps beneficial that the Prince wasn't jaded. It will be that much easier to garner support as they moved down south after the winter. People were far more likely to toss their voice behind someone who passionately espouses justice and opportunities and order than someone who explains in great detail the nuance behind all those things and how they are rarely achievable. People want heroes blinded with justice, not moralists explaining why certain 'bad' things need to be.
Days passed swiftly. As they were in a bit of a rush, they cut down the number of times they rested per day to just one—the one when the night fell and they were unable to move forward. Inevitably, though this resulted in many tired and exhausted looks, they arrived back almost twice as quickly despite the fact that they were ‘herding’ an extra hundred and a change people with them.
“AAH!” a scream startled Sylas out of his thoughts, prompting both him and Valen to pull the curtains back and glance outside. The sight that they saw… horrified them both—the castle… was on fire.