CHAPTER 111: HE KNOWS [2]

Alaric pushed through his door and immediately began stripping off his formal doublet, the black fabric heavy with the evening’s tension.

He tossed it over a chair and sat heavily on the bed’s edge, running both hands through his dark hair as he sighed.

"What an eventful day."

He was about to collapse backward when a familiar cyan window materialized in front of him.

[Ding!]

[Congratulations! You have accumulated over 3000 Domination Points!]

[Current Domination Points: 3100]

[SYSTEM UPGRADE AVAILABLE]

[Upgrade to Level 3? Cost: 3000 DP]

[Yes / No]

Alaric stared at the floating panel, exhaustion warring with curiosity. Then he straightened.

"Finally."

He rubbed his face with both hands.

"Well then. Let’s see what new toys you have for me."

Yes.

[Processing...]

The panel exploded into fractal light, reforming with new complexity.

[System Upgrading... Complete]

[SYSTEM UPGRADED TO LEVEL 3]

[STATUS]

Name: Brandon (Past Life: Alaric Noir)

Race: Human

Age: 19

Title: Slave, Model Servant, Prince of Blackthorn (The Fallen King).

Essence Path: The Path of #$#&##@##

Sub-Path: Flame

Essence Rank: D- EXP: 800/5400

Stats:

STR: 80

AGI: 94

END: 81

WIL: 56

CHA: 64

INT: 75 (??)

Free stats points: 37 Domination Points: 100

Level: 3 Skill Tree: -Intermediate Fire spell (F)

-Fireball

-Flame Arrow

-Burst Step

-Scorchblade Arts (S):

*First Form- Flame Blade

*Second Form- Flame Slash

-Dominion’s Gaze (A)

-NEW: Regnant Strike (B)

NEW: Scanner

Shop: Advanced Tier Items [UPGRADED]

Obedience Meter: 1 (70%)

Loyalty Meter: 1 (80%)

Harem Tracker: 1 (Expand for more information)

DP Exchange: Available

System Level: 3

Next Upgrade: 10,000 DP

??? (System Level: 4 required)

[Scanner: An ability that reveals basic information about targets within visual range. Displays Essence path, rank. Cannot evaluate the targets more than 2 full ranks above host.]

[NEW SKILL: Regnant Strike (B)]

[Description: A decisive blow infused with the authority of rulership. Strike carries psychological weight that can shatter an opponent’s will to fight. Physical damage is secondary to the mental impact of being struck by one who has commanded others.]

[Effect: Target experiences brief paralysis from overwhelming sense of inferiority. Duration depends on target’s willpower and social status.]

[Cost: Moderate Essence drain]

[Limitation: Less effective against those of equal or higher rank.]

Alaric studied the new information, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

The Scanner would be useful, no more guessing about people’s capabilities.

And Regnant Strike... interesting.

A technique that relied on psychological dominance rather than raw power.

"Useful," he murmured, dismissing the panels.

"Though the timing could be better."

He yawned, suddenly feeling every hour of the evening’s stress.

Tomorrow would bring new complications, new games to play. But right now, sleep seemed like the only sensible option.

He fell backward onto the bed, not bothering to remove his boots.

Within minutes, his breathing had evened out, one arm thrown over his eyes to block the moonlight streaming through curtains he’d forgotten to close.

**********

Morning light cut through the curtains like a blade, landing directly across Alaric’s face. He groaned and flung an arm over his eyes, the brightness stabbing through his skull.

"Every damn morning with this..."

The bed frame groaned in protest as he rolled himself upright, feet hitting the floor.

His neck felt like someone had twisted it sideways and forgotten to twist it back.

He stretched his arms overhead, spine crackling like kindling as vertebrae popped back into alignment.

The washbasin waited in the corner, filled with water cold enough to wake the dead.

Perfect.

He needed the shock after last night’s combination of wine and... complications.

Water hit his face like a slap.

Better.

He then got dressed, white linen shirt that had seen better days, dark trousers, boots. Nothing fancy. The mirror showed someone who looked more put-together than he felt.

The hallway stretched empty in both directions when he stepped out.

Too early for civilized people, though kitchen sounds drifted up from somewhere below, staff already working on breakfast. The familiar clatter of pots and murmured conversations of people who actually had to work for a living.

Tap! Tap!

His feet carried him nowhere in particular. Through the lesser parlor that smelled of old leather. Around the music room where dust motes danced in shafts of sunlight, the piano sitting silent under its cloth cover.

He found himself slowing as he passed Selene’s door, thick oak panels showing no light underneath. Either she was already up and avoiding him or still hiding under blankets. Both seemed equally likely.

He didn’t linger there and moved forward

The main staircase curved down in elegant spirals toward the entrance hall. He was only halfway down when voices echoed up from below, sharp, urgent.

"—must be delivered to Lady Glimor personally. Its urgent correspondence."

The head maid stood in front of a man, and spoke in stiff voice, laced with protocol

"The lady doesn’t receive correspondence before—"

"I’ll take it."

Alaric descended the remaining steps, drawing both of their attention.

The courier wore Rithvale colors, deep blue with silver trim, and looked like he’d ridden hard to get here. Sweat stained his collar despite the cool morning.

"Lord Glimor?" Relief washed over the man’s face.

"Close enough."

He then gave the letter to Alaric, heavy parchment sealed with crimson wax.

The courier then bowed quickly and practically fled through the door, like he didn’t want to be anywhere near any longer.

Alaric broke the seal with his thumbnail, unfolding the parchment. The contents made him raise an eyebrow.

Lady Selene,

Reports have reached me concerning certain... arrangements within your household...

.......

While I do not interfere lightly... consider this a friendly reminder that the main branch keeps its eyes open...

I trust you understand the implications.

—R

He read it twice, then a third time.

"Well." He folded the letter carefully. "That’s not ominous at all." He then tucked it in his pocket and then moved to the dining room.

A minutes later, he stood outside Selene’s study door. Without any knock, he twisted the knob.

The door swung open without resistance. She sat behind her desk, perfectly composed in a high-necked dress of jade green, her dark hair severely braided. The picture of noble propriety.

She didn’t look up. Only one person in this house would dare enter uninvited.

"Running away doesn’t suit you," Alaric said, slipping inside and closing the door behind him. "Neither does hiding."

"I’m working." She grabbed her pen and moved it across paper, writing nothing of importance. "Some of us have responsibilities beyond studying fairy tales about dead kingdoms."

"Fairy tales?" He moved closer, footsteps measured and unhurried. "Is that what we’re calling last night?"

Her pen stilled.

"There was no last night worth discussing."

"No?" He reached her desk, sliding the letter across the polished surface toward her. "Then perhaps you should read this."

The Rithvale seal caught the morning light, crimson wax gleaming like dried blood.

"It arrived this morning," he said softly. "Addressed to you specifically."

She finally looked up, meeting his eyes. He wasn’t smirking. His expression was entirely serious.

"He knows. "

Selene took the letter with steady hands, though he caught the slight tremor in her fingers. Her eyes scanned the contents once, twice, then her face went carefully blank.

She set the letter down with excessive care, then drew in a slow breath through her nose, processing implications that made her shoulders tense a little.

Alaric watched her reaction, his own brow furrowing. "So he does know about your plans for Ferick."

Her head snapped up, eyes sharp. The letter crinkled slightly in her grip.

"You think this is about...?" She trailed off, studying his face with new intensity, as if seeing a puzzle piece she hadn’t expected.

Alaric tilted his head, studying her reaction with the mild curiosity.

Selene sighed heavily and clasped her hands on the desk, lowering her forehead to rest against them.

All the flustered energy from yesterday, the sharp denials, the desperate distance, had evaporated.

What remained was pure frustration.

She took a deep breath, still face-down on the desk, mind clearly racing through implications and contingencies.

"Why now?" she muttered to herself. "I had everything arranged. The timing was perfect."

Alaric remained silent, content to observe from the sidelines as she processed whatever web of schemes the letter had disrupted.

After a long moment, she lifted her head and found him still watching.

"Do you want my help?" he asked, his tone neutral.

"Get out." The words came sharp and immediate. "I don’t need your assistance."

Alaric blinked at the dismissal.

From panicked about a kiss to ordering me around again. How quickly the tides turn.

He left without argument.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Alone again, Selene crumpled the letter and threw it aside with violent force. It bounced off the wall and landed behind her bookshelf.

"Sari," she said, her voice dropping low, cool tone.

A figure materialized from the shadows near the window, black robes rustling softly as they dropped to one knee beside her desk.

"Yes, my lady."

"How long have they been watching?"

"Three weeks, my lady. Two arrived in the neighboring province."

Selene’s fingers drummed once on the desk. "And you didn’t think to inform me?"

"You ordered no interruptions while preparing the young lord for the Academy." A pause. "Should I have—"

"No." She stood, moving to the window where Alaric had been moments before. "You followed orders. But now I need you to send a message to our friend in the capital."

"Which message, my lady?"

"Tell them the wolves are circling, but the sheep isn’t ready for slaughter." She turned back, eyes hard as emeralds. "And find out who in this house is reporting to them. Someone told them about our preparations."

"It will be done."

The shadows swallowed the figure again, leaving Selene alone.