In the blink of an eye three more weeks had passed. Alric along with all the vassals were gathered in the Braveheart manor, everyone wearing plastic smiles.
Despite what was supposed to be a good day the tension in the air was palpable. The vassals had all been summoned to the Braveheart residents to celebrate the end of their etiquette training.
Any idiot would have believed this was a real celebration but beneath the facade of jubilation was just the Earl's clever ruse to ensure compliance with the royal decree, coercing everyone to remain within the manor as bait for the elusive Blackdeath.
The vassals, blinded by their naivety, genuinely believed this was a celebration in their honor. If they possessed even a modicum of political acumen, they would have recognized that every assembly was a perilous affair, whether through subtle maneuvering or outright treachery.
Alric knew this firsthand. His experiences had taught him the harsh realities of aristocratic gatherings, and he couldn't help but scorn the vassals as they callously mistreated the staff while clumsily mimicking noble etiquette they had barely learned in a month.
A discerning eye could discern their lowly origins. Any real noble could tell in a heartbeat they were low class mongrels trying to mix with the pedigrees.
Alric looked on in disgust as the celebrations went on. A pang of bitterness pierced Alric's heart as he observed the festivities. Ever since his family had been annihilated during his sister's coming-of-age ceremony, he had carried the weight of that tragedy within him.
It reminded him of a time before pain, a time before suffering, but at the same time reminded him of the fragility of life.
Alric raised a glass of wine to his lips before stepping out onto the balcony, gazing up at the full moon that bathed the night in silver light.
‘On nights like these my kludde contract seems to get very agitated…’
he mused, his eyes fixed on the celestial expanse.
"It should be time soon,"
Alric whispered to himself, taking one final sip of wine.
"What time are you referring to, young Alrad?"
Earl Braveheart's voice, accompanied by the clinking of a wine glass, interrupted his contemplation.
Alric smirked seeing the figure come from behind him, It was Earl Braveheart.
“Let us not play coy Earl.”
Earl Braveheart, bearing a wine glass and a jovial smile moments before, instantly adopted a more serious demeanor.
"So, you're aware of it too.
How long have you known?"
"Since my very first day here,"
Alric replied, his gaze still fixed on the moon, refusing to meet Braveheart's eyes.
Braveheart's eyes widened in astonishment.
"I sensed there was something exceptional about you."
Turning to face the balcony and the garden below, Braveheart's joviality waned.
"You knew from the beginning and yet chose to stay.
I might argue that you are even more audacious than the ignorant youths inside."
“Some men see the vastness of the sea quiver in fear, but I prefer to simply realign my sail.”
Alric spoke with words that seemed to surpass his age.
Braveheart looked at Alric in surprise, realizing that this young lad knowingly stayed in boiling water with his family. He felt that if they had had more time, he could have groomed him into a fine wizard and nobleman.
Braveheart let out a heavy sigh, realizing the futility of ‘what ifs’.
"There has always been an air of familiarity about you, young Alard. But with wisdom like that, you are as distant as a rainbow on the horizon."
Alric inwardly chuckled feeling that only now at the doorstep of death did these nobles begin to behave human. Only after feeling the uselessness of status and coins would they become humans once more.
A smile crept onto Alric's lips, a flicker of joy kindled by the knowledge that someday, he would help many nobles rekindle that same feeling.
Observing this transformation in Alric, Earl Braveheart felt a glimmer of triumph as if he had broken through the icy veil that had always surrounded the young man. He offered a reassuring pat on Alric's back before departing, his final words laced with hope.
"I hope to see you in the morning, young Alard."
Alric's gaze lingered on Braveheart as the Earl walked away, his mind veering toward the enigma of their relationship.
However, his contemplation was abruptly interrupted by an electrifying surge of mana coursing through the atmosphere.
In an instant, the air seemed to be infused with dark particles that swirled ominously. Alric's sharp senses detected the palpable change, and he glanced at the other vassals, who were equally aware of the shifting atmosphere. Unlike him, the weaker among them, sensitive to mana, were overwhelmed, doubling over and retching up inky-black vomit.
Some of the afflicted collapsed to the floor, wracked by violent tremors and foaming at the mouth, losing control of their faculties.
The humans, subjected to an even crueler fate, suffered immensely. The moment they touched one of the countless floating, black orbs, their skin erupted in painful, festering sores.
Their flesh transformed into a grotesque, obsidian material, and their collective screams formed a nightmarish symphony of agony and despair.
Alric stood in stunned disbelief, his thoughts temporarily shattered by the harrowing scene unfolding before him.
He always thought he was cruel and evil but this was beyond anything he had ever imagined doing.
The tranquility was shattered by a deafening explosion that rocked the very foundation of the manor, sending glass shards hurtling through the air and unleashing shockwaves that rippled throughout the sprawling estate. A sinister shroud of darkness swiftly engulfed the entire manor and all its inhabitants.
With urgency burning within him, Alric surrounded himself with darkness mana and summoned his kluddes to form a circle around him.
Clutching his sword, Alric strained to make sense of the chaos that had descended upon them, his senses sharpened, and his heart racing as he struggled to find logic in the situation.
