It had been a while since anyone had seen or heard any news about Aiden Lacheart. It was as good a news as it was bad. For one reason, news of Aiden and his exploits had been very bad for morale. There was just something about somebody doing something far beyond what you were capable of when you’d spent your life believing that they were equal or perhaps less than you that just rubbed you the wrong way. There was also the sense of self-doubt that it built within a person. It could make a person wonder if they were walking down the right path. It could make them wonder if perhaps they should’ve followed the other person, or at least followed their path.
Letto sighed, thoughts pricking at his mind, distracting him. Aiden’s exploits didn’t leave him with so much doubt, and it wasn’t bad for his morale. But he saw the way it affected the others. Perhaps it was because of the experience they’d had at the crystal cave when they’d met him. Something about him had been dangerous. Letto could still remember how he had taken down the knight that had gone with them in the blink of an eye. That had been skill and power, the kind that Derrick continued to envy even now.
Focus, he told himself, his hand working gentle ink-lines unto a wooden board with an engraving pen. It had taken what felt like forever but he’d finally managed to get the [Basic Engrave] skill a few days ago.
He stopped to look down at his work and found a line a little out of place, off by the tiniest degree. It made him frown. I guess you aren’t immune to the effects of Aiden Lacheart.
Aiden was the single reason he had thrown himself into the task of learning the [Basic Engraving] skill. If he was dedicated enough, maybe he could get his hands on the [Basic Enchant] skill. If Letto was being honest, though, he probably wouldn’t. From what he’d learnt from the palace [Enchanter], it was one thing to get a skill and it was another to be good at it, to develop an affinity for it.
Dropping the board and pen on the bed, Letto laid back and cast his eyes on the ceiling above. The bed was soft and comfortable, feeling nothing like the beds back on earth. It was almost as if it was made of air. Shirtless and clad only in a pair of black pants, the silk sheets were good on his bare back.
What can I do to catch up? he wondered.
He was sure everyone was wondering the same. What could they do to become a force as dangerous as Aiden? What could they do to be more?
The last information he’d heard of Aiden had been more than two weeks ago. Interestingly enough, it was the system itself that had given him the information. It was the system itself that had given everybody the information.
[Aiden Lacheart has slain The Immortal]
He could still see it clearly in his mind. It was unforgettable. Although it had come at a dangerous time, when he’d been fighting a boss monster along with the others. The distraction had almost killed Derrick. Regardless of all that, his main problem was the secrecy they had all been getting since returning to the castle. No one wanted to say who this Immortal was. What was so special about them that the system had to inform the whole world about it?
Letto was dislodged from his thoughts by a knock on his door.
“Who?” he asked, sitting up on his bed.
The knock came again. “Open up, Letto.”
It was Drax’s voice.
Pushing himself up from the bed, Letto walked over and undid the door latch and deactivated the locking enchantment.
He opened the door to find Drax and Ariadne waiting impatiently at the door. They were clad in casual clothing, simple clothes.
Letto stepped out of the way so that they could enter. “Come in.”
Without delay or question, they did, strolling into his room with almost imperceptible sounds to their footsteps. Letto remembered once upon a time when all of them walked with extremely loud footsteps, heralding their arrival from a good distance away.
Drax and Ariadne came to a stop at the center of the room, standing like people who had something to say.
Letto closed the door and walked over to his bed. It was his room, visitors or not, he was in no mood to be putting on shirts. He sat down then plopped his back down dramatically.
Only when he was breathing calmly, like someone about do fall asleep did one of them speak.
“We’re considering leaving,” Ariadne said.
“You are considering leaving,” Drax rectified.
Ariadne gave him a flat look. “And you’re considering leaving with me.”
Letto stared at the ceiling above. “Aiden got his hands on the crystal then got his hands on the heart.” He blinked slowly, intentionally. “Do you guys know what those things do?”
Drax frowned. “This isn’t about Aiden.”
“I never said that it was,” Letto said calmly. “I’m just asking if any of us know what those items do. Do you know what has to be done to get them?”
“We were there when he got the crystal.” Ariadne folded her arms. “I heard you’ve got to kill a monster to get the heart.”
“A raid monster,” Letto corrected. “I asked around. A raid monster requires teams to hunt it down and kill it. And by teams, I mean more than for consisting of nothing less than five party members. For this specific monster, people are advised to be no less than level one hundred. It is not mandatory to kill the monster, but it is advised to come out with the least number of casualties.”
“Letto,” Drax said, voice precise, “this is not about Aiden.”
Letto sighed. After a moment, he sat up on his bed and looked at them. “Sure, it isn’t.”
Ariadne said nothing, but he could see her fighting the urge to look away in embarrassment. For her, he could believe that Aiden was not the reason for her decision, but he had something to do with it. For Drax, however, it was all Aiden. For some reason, he wanted to either be as good as or better than Aiden.
Letto would’ve stopped talking to Drax if he thought it was all about envy, but he knew it was a thing of pride for Drax. Drax had been the athletic one between him, Letto and Aiden on earth, even though they were not the closest. To come to Nastild and be completely outshone by Aiden did a number on his pride. It was not that he could not stand Aiden being stronger than him, it was that he could not stand not being the strongest.
“Is what they said about him true?” Ariadne asked suddenly.
Letto’s gaze moved from Drax to her. He knew what she was talking about. “I won’t be surprised,” he answered. “You heard the rumors of the battlefield for the heart. Too many bodies created by human weapons and human skills. I doubt there’s any way he could’ve gotten the heart without someone trying to kill him and him having to kill them.”
“What he did at Elstrire solidifies it already,” Drax muttered, his tone baleful. It seemed he still thought it his duty to bring order to them, not people on Nastild, but those that came from Earth.
“They were cannibals, Drax,” Ariadne said. “He was justified on that one.”
Drax shook his head. “He was not justified.”
“Even self-defense is permitted on Earth, Drax,” Letto sighed. “It would be stupid to say it is not justified here.”
“Did you see what he did?” Drax asked, appalled. “Did you see the massacre? There must’ve been more than thirty people there. You say we have self-defense back home, but are you aware of the concept called use of excessive force?”
There was no point talking to Drax about this. Letto knew that. This was not the first time they were having this conversation. This was not the first time that they were disagreeing on it. Still, he had the argument when it came up. It was as if there was just some part of him that refused to give up on making Drax understand Aiden, a part of him that refused to give up on them. His mind went back to the last time he saw Aiden and the realization licked at his thoughts like a wounded animal.
Aiden did not care. He had barely said much to Drax, and he had only been polite with Letto.
“Drax,” he said simply.
Drax paused, as if something in the way he had said his name told him something. “Yes?”
“I’m just going to say that—”
A knock on the door silenced him for a moment. Drax and Ariadne looked at him. He returned their look of confusion with one of his own.
“Are you expecting anybody?” Ariadne asked as he got up from the bed and walked over to his wardrobe.
“I wasn’t expecting you two, was I?” he said, opening it and taking out a shirt. He turned and headed for the door, putting the shirt on. “Who is it?”
Nobody answered.
He paused midstride. “Who is it?” he repeated.
Still no answer. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand.
His attention moved over to Drax and Ariadne. Each of them grew alert. Letto returned his attention to the door and summoned a small blade. He hid it behind his back and took the doorknob in hand.
“It is impolite to not announce yourself,” he said, then opened the door immediately.
His hand tightened on the knife, but he did not withdraw it from his back because of the sight he was met with. A young child, arguably no older than twelve years old, stood at the door in a white shirt and green shorts. The boy looked up at him with curious eyes.
Letto studied him for a moment. The child looked familiar. He was certain he had seen the boy around the palace once or twice.
“Good evening, sir,” the boy greeted, not addressing him by the title of lord as everyone else in the palace liked to.
Letto looked back at the others, only to find them as confused as he was. He looked back at the child. “Evening. What can I do for you?”
“The king summons you,” the boy said. “Kindly follow me.”
With that, no further explanations, he turned and left.
Letto looked back at the others. They shrugged.
“No idea what’s happening,” Drax said, “but we can follow you, just in case.”
Just in case, Letto thought. Just in case of what?
Did they consider the possibility that someone was going to attack him; that he was being led to a trap?
…
Letto walked into the king’s study, eyes glancing around. This was not his first time here, but it was definitely his first time being summoned here by the child he did not know. Drax and Ariadne had followed him but had been stopped by the butler at the door. Apparently the man’s duty was to only allow those expected in and to announce them before they entered. There were rumors that the man was stronger than he looked but no confirmation.
Keeping his eyes on King Brandis who sat behind his reading desk, Letto walked forward. The king looked healthier than he remembered. The last time he’d seen the man, the man had had bags under his eyes and looked a little malnourished, which was confusing because the more levels you gained the lower the chances of things like malnutrition affecting you. At some point he’d begun to worry that certain things were being hidden from him.
King Brandis paid little attention to him as he approached, reading something off a piece of parchment. It was a while before he raised his head and fixed him with his gaze. Strong amber eyes settled on him, assessing him. They were heavy eyes. To Letto, it was as if they were looking into his soul.
When he got to a point, Letto bent the knee and bowed.
“Greetings, your highness,” he said. “You called.”
“Summoned,” King Brandis corrected, “but that is unimportant. I have a curious question. Was Aiden Lacheart always so different from the rest of you? Was there some kind of specific way his parents raised him and his brother that made them different?”
Letto blinked. “I don’t think so. Is there a reason you ask, your highness?”
“There is.” King Brandis adjusted on his chair. “You see, when I looked at you, it had an effect. The same thing applies to all your companions. And, usually, I can fix a person with my gaze. It is something that comes from experience and age.” He gestured vaguely. “With the Lacheart brothers, it does not exist. It is almost as if they have been fixed by gazes far stronger than mine for far more times than I have been alive. For example, you bend the knee because you know you are supposed to, perhaps even fear the consequences of not, though I might be wrong. With the brothers, however, they do it because it is polite. It always befuddled me.”
“I see,” Letto muttered. “Sadly, I do not know the secret to their audaciousness.”
“I see.” The king made a dismissive gesture. “No matter. I only asked because I have heard that you and Drax were the closest to them in your world. I figured you might know a thing or two.”
He shook his head, still bowed. “Sadly, I do not.”
“Like I said, it matters not. You may rise, so that we may speak on the reason I have summoned you.”
Letto obeyed, rising to his feet. His hands hung awkwardly by his side, so he put them behind him, holding them there.
“The reason I have called you, is to deliver a spot of bad news.” The king sighed. “Last night, the other group of your companions that Derrick used to work with before their… disagreement, returned from one of their expedition to the south.”
The man looked down and away, seeming a little ashamed. Letto already knew what the king was going to say before he said it.
“Only two knights returned,” King Brandis finished. “I am sorry.”
Letto didn’t feel much at the news of the loss. Their deaths to him were like the deaths of people he had come across once or twice. Someone in the neighborhood that you didn’t really know but would’ve run into at a party or two.
“I understand,” he replied, hoping he didn’t sound as apathetic to the news as he felt. “In a world of danger, death is always a possibility. May I ask what happened?”
“It was a goblin subjugation contract,” he said. “There have been reports of a large and growing number of goblins appearing out of nowhere. It was a fitting request to further their growth since the goblins were reported to be in the early twenty to late twenty levels.”
“Goblins move in swarms, your highness,” Letto pointed out. “A swarm of those levels would be difficult.”
“They were a group in their forties and two above fifty, they were meant to be fine. They also had two knights with them close to their hundred.” King Brandis sighed. “They were meant to be fine.”
“How many returned?”
“Just one. One of the knights. He came with information that has led me to understand what happened.” King Brandis placed his hand on something on his table. It was a necklace, Letto had noticed it the moment he’d walked in. “What we thought was just an abnormal uprising of goblins was not simply an abnormal uprising of goblins. It would seem a goblin shaman has found its way into the class of [Necromancer]. How? We do not know. I would attribute it to the rising darkness. I, unfortunately, sent them to their deaths because I lacked enough information.”
“It is an understandable error,” Letto said, because he believed that it was.
“Regardless,” the king’s fingers drummed against the table top, “something came of it. I have deliberated on the matter on given it a lot of thought. I have now in my possession an important artifact, something called [True Sight]. Can you take a guess at what it does?”
Letto could. “No, your highness.”
“I see.” King Brandis tilted his head, looked at him from another angle. “I cannot tell if you are simply not interested or if you are being careful.”
“Both, your highness.”
“That’s a little unfortunate.” King Brandis sighed. “I’ll just get this over with since you seem to have other things you would rather be doing than be here. [True Sight] grants its wielder the ability to see beyond all illusions and disguises. Even the [Stealth] skill at any degree is not immune to its effects. I have heard that you have the [Rogue] class, so I believe this artifact will be more beneficial to you.”
Letto could feel the weight of responsibility that came with the artifact. From what he knew, artifacts were not simple things. Unlike every other item, including the extremely powerful ones, artifacts could not be replicated, and there were a limited number out in Nastild. Being gifted an artifact in a group implied expectations and responsibilities that he was not ready for.
“There is a better candidate for the item, your highness,” he said. “If you truly want the artifact to be put to the best use by the group.”
The king paused in thought. “I will not be averse to the information. There aren’t much of you left, after all. Everything should be put to the best use.”
Letto doubted the king truly cared. From what they were informed of long ago, they were not the only ones that had been summoned from earth. There were at least five other groups of people summoned from earth. If they died, there would be others to take their place. The pool to choose a hero from was not so dwindled.
“May I ask a question first, your highness?” Letto said.
“Is this a transactional question?” King Brandis asked. “If I do not answer will your knowledge be withheld from me?”
“I would not assume to bargain with you, your highness. This is merely a need to satisfy my curiosity.”
“Then I am listening.”
“Over two weeks ago, I got a notification, as did my companions, about Aiden Lacheart.”
“Ah,” the king stroked his beard, “I see. I have heard that some of your companions have been asking around.”
“No one has been willing to give an answer to us.”
“Yes, under my command from a piece of advice received. Perhaps it was one of many of my poor judgements.” The king sighed. “I chose to keep everyone from speaking because I feared that the answer would ruin morale among your ranks. But perhaps I was wrong. You wish to know who the Immortal is, do you not?”
Letto nodded. “Yes, your highness.”
“Then I will give you the answer the simplest way I can.” King Brandis took his hand from the necklace, folded it, and stared at nothing. “The Immortal is a man out there in the world who cannot die. Nothing done to him can kill him, so much so that the system gave him the official title of Immortal. And believe me, there are people powerful enough to level kingdoms with a wave of the hand who have tried and failed.”
“But…”
“Yes. We believed he was unkillable, justifiably so. It would seem that Aiden Lacheart has proven us all to be fools. The Immortal wasn’t so unkillable, after all. Lord Lacheart has done much to prove that.”
“Drax,” Letto said simply. “The person who will utilize the artifact to the best it can be for the group is Drax. If that is all, may I take my leave, your highness?”
King Brandis’ gaze narrowed as he studied him some more. In the end, he said, “Yes, you may.”
Letto turned, headed for the door. Only when he reached for the doorknob did another question come to mind.
“Your highness.”
“I’m listening,” King Brandis answered.
“What level was the Immortal?”
The king made a thoughtful sound like a soft hum. “The last report on him that I had said that he was at level three hundred and twelve. But he was most likely higher.”
“So Aiden defeated an opponent over level three hundred,” Letto muttered.
“That is correct. Now, it’s my turn,” Brandis said. “Why do you seem unmoved by the death of your comrades?”
Letto thought about it but for only a moment before he answered. “Because I didn’t know them that well.” He opened the door and paused, offering the king a piece of advise. “Maybe, for our safety, the kingdom should look into regaining its alliance with Aiden… it will be good for our morale.”
With that he was gone, closing the door behind him.
Perhaps the time had come.
It was time to stop trying to catch up to Aiden and simply just try to be as strong as he can be. Sometimes, if you wanted to build a mountain you did not look to a mountain for motivation. You start from the hill, and once you’ve achieved that, you grow from there.
Even goals, he thought as he approached Drax and Ariadne, can be demotivating if they were too grand.
Perhaps it was time to forget about Aiden Lacheart.