CHAPTER 123: BARREL

Asher’s figure reappeared within his room in a silver blur. It was already four o’clock in the evening, and his exploration for the day had come to an end. With a heavy sigh, Asher lowered himself into a sitting position on the bed, his gaze distant and pensive.

Unlike what he had read in numerous novels, stories where commoners bore an intense hatred for nobles, that sentiment didn’t seem to apply here... or at least not within the Wargrave Ducal Territory.

He was certain many commoners in other regions would harbour resentment toward nobles such as Barons and Viscounts, particularly due to the constant beast invasions and the nobles’ apparent inability to bring a lasting end to them.

These nobles could only continue to spend gold coins, hiring adventurers or mercenaries to perform the duties that their knights could no longer fulfill. And yet, they couldn’t flee from their territories even if they wished to, not when all their sources of wealth were rooted within the Barony, the land, the taxes, the businesses, the knights. Abandoning it all would be tantamount to treason.

’I wonder what it would be like if I ruled?’ Asher mused silently.

But then, his thoughts shifted to his father. Whenever he caught a glimpse of the man in his chambers, the Duke was always immersed in documents and official reports. It appeared to be an overwhelming amount of work, especially for someone as inherently lazy as Asher.

’Should I start thinking about becoming the next Primarch?’ he wondered. But the thought vanished almost as quickly as it came, and he shook his head, dismissing it altogether.

He was simply too weak to entertain such a grand aspiration, and besides, the only conceivable reason he might even consider becoming Primarch would be if he ever found another woman he loved... someone like Jennifer.

With a sigh, his body slumped back, collapsing into the plush comfort of the king-sized bed. As his back sank into the softness, his thoughts shifted to the child he had met earlier, the one desperately searching for herbs to treat his ailing mother.

’There are always bad apples among good ones,’ Asher thought as he stared blankly at the ceiling. Everyone around seemed cheerful and content, yet even within the Wargrave Ducal territory, thugs and troublemakers persisted.

Although that had been the only instance he had come across during his exploration, it didn’t guarantee there weren’t others lurking in the shadows. Still, Asher wasn’t about to go out of his way to begin cleansing the territory of such lowlifes.

It was a thankless job, and frankly, everyone seemed to be living contentedly already. There was no need for unnecessary effort, not when things were calm on the surface.

As he lay there, absorbed in thought, his stomach let out a loud growl of protest. ’We are all slaves to food,’ Asher thought dryly.

His mind drifted once again, this time to Jennifer’s cooking. He used to keep his fridge stocked whenever she had exams, making sure she wouldn’t stress over meals. Asher shook his head, reminding himself that he had already resolved to move on. He had to move on. Yet, his thoughts remained stubbornly tethered to her.

’Love truly is powerful,’ he thought quietly.

Once, he had made it his goal to return to his original world, just to see Jennifer again. But even if he managed to do so, how many years might have passed? A single second? A year? A decade? A century? Was the flow of time in Crymora truly the same as the flow of time on Earth?

He had no answers. And even if he did return, what awaited him? Nothing would be the same. Time waits for no man, and certainly, time would not pause the entire Earth simply to wait for his return.

There was no point in feeding himself with illusions and wistful fantasies. He could only hope that she found someone better than him, someone worthy. And perhaps, someday, he too would meet someone just as extraordinary as she was.

As his mind wandered, he felt a familiar presence approaching the door.

"Come in," Asher called out, not bothering to wait for the knock.

With the gentle creak of the door, Lyra entered. At his request, she went off to bring lunch, as his hunger had begun to gnaw at him. Lyra bowed respectfully and left without a word.

Within minutes, the food arrived. Asher ate swiftly, and once he was done, the plates were removed. The day continued to pass by, with Asher doing absolutely nothing, no training, no exploration, no conversation. Just lying there, still and contemplative, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if it were a gateway to another world.

Then came another knock. Asher already knew who it was, but he couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.

’How many times have I said the phrase "Come in" since I transmigrated into this world...?’ he thought wearily. But he had to keep saying it, nonetheless.

"Come in," he said once again.

The door opened, and Zarek stepped inside, with Lyra following right behind him.

"Good evening, Tenth Sun. As instructed by the Primarch, I’ve come to deliver these..." Zarek said, waving his hand.

In an instant, numerous barrels appeared on the floor.

Asher’s eyes swept over them and counted ten in total. He didn’t need to be told what they contained, he already knew. It was the blood he had requested as a reward.

Blood from Myth-class monsters.

Still, he wasn’t expecting such a generous amount. His senses told him each barrel was filled to the brim.

’It seems not specifying the quantity was a smart decision,’ Asher thought, a hint of slyness crossing his mind.

"That will be all, Tenth Sun," Zarek said, bowing lightly before turning to leave.

Asher’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. ’Now I’ll be able to heal injuries to my vital organs, even if I take a fatal hit, and restore all my wounds in an instant.’

Happiness flickered across his eyes like a flash of silver.

Without further delay, Virelass materialized in his hands with a silver flash. With a simple thrust, he stabbed the side of one of the barrels, not even bothering to open it conventionally.

Within moments, Virelass began to absorb the contents of the barrel. The rapier moved on its own with a hum, almost as though she could taste the blood.

Without pausing for even a second, Virelass completed one barrel and moved to the next, repeating the process over and over again.

In mere minutes, Virelass had drained every drop of blood from each of the ten barrels, its thirst seemingly unending.