The Legendary Fool

Chapter 112: The King's Right Hand

112:

Valeria took the lead as she found herself in familiar territory. Tom kept pace with her, his glares not nearly as effective as the masked Aleph and Zirel, who were following them with their blades out.

The closer they got to Valeria’s residence, the further the crowd thinned out as the milling pedestrians either split away to the various organizations they were employed by, like the Academy, Alchemy Guild or the stores that were frequented by Noble Families or were drawn away by their apprenticeships and residences.

After all, few were granted the honor of residing within one of the Noble Residences. Even househelp and gardeners were subject to the most stringent of background checks and if their lineage could not be traced to the Syrelore Kingdom for the last ten generations, they were denied.

Merely ten minutes later, Tom found himself facing down an ostentatious gate. Wrought metal was shaped and twirled into floral motifs, two see-through metal panels meeting at the center to bloom into a large metal flower whose petals served as artful handles.

Blocking their way to the pathway that led to the manor, flanked with a beautiful rainbow of colorful flowers, were two heavily armored guards that carried their blades sheathed.

“Ms Valeria,” The one to the right acknowledged, observing her keenly from behind his barbute helmet’s open-air visor. “Who are these companions of yours? Master Ramav is not expecting any guests today,” He remarked, his tone hinting at something deeper.

“They are the ones who saved my life and you shall treat them as such,” Valeria replied, as the tension she had been concealing left her body with a long, weary sigh.

Tom did not move as the guards drew their blades, their eyes mirroring the same alarm.

“Ms. Valeria, what happened?” The guard to the left asked, his tone carrying an undertone of panic as he scoured their surroundings while other guard kept a close eye on Tom and his companions.

“I need to speak to my father,” Valeria replied. “The threat has been averted for now, but given how brazen they were, you better sound the alarm”.

The guard who had asked the question did not let his panic affect his duties as he retrieved a light brown crystal from his waist belt and shattered it.

“Ms Valeria, can you explain the nature of the threat,” The guard to the right asked, his wary gaze focusing on the two masked individuals that stood behind Tom and Valeria.

“Someone tried to have me assassinated. These three saved my life from a group of very deadly assassins. Try not to offend them,” Valeria replied, revealing the nature of the threat but cleverly not specifying who she suspected to be behind it.

“An assassination?” The guard who had sounded the alarm without hesitation at Valeria’s command rhetorically asked, his tone muddled by surprise as strong as confusion.

“Please, go ahead and report to the Master,” The guard to the right hurriedly added, as he pushed the gate inwards to grant them passage.

Valeria passed through unhindered, but when Tom tried to, he found his way barred by two crossed blades.

“Pardon us, Ms. Valeria. But if the situation is as dire as you say it is, we cannot let individuals as suspicious as them get close to the Master,” The guard who had shattered the crystal replied, his tone sounding genuinely apologetic.

“The only reason I am still standing unharmed is because of those three. Do not presume to understand the situation the Noble House of Nezaria finds itself in better than its scion. Lower your blades and let them pass,” Valeria replied, her words cutting through the air with unquestionable authority.

“As you wish, Ms Valeria,” The guards replied in practiced unison.

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Tom watched their movements closely as he stepped past them, noticing the heavy reluctance that was written all over their otherwise stern expressions.

Only after Aleph and Zirel had stepped inside the manor’s territory did the guards footsteps shuffle into a turn.

“Do not mind us, honored guests. As long as you make no sudden movements, you have nothing to fear from us,” The guard who had shattered the crystal explained, his blade still drawn and held at the ready like his compatriot’s.

Tom observed as annoyance flickered across Valeria’s gaze, only for her to quickly suppress it. She then turned to look at him.

“That’s fine by me,” Tom replied with a shrug. Valeria was right to be annoyed, because Tom had more than proven his determination of keeping her alive by taking out the head of the Nottrakon Family’s Elite Guard. However, at the same time, there was no way that the guards knew that, or for that matter, even were qualified to know such a thing.

Civil war was brewing and the woman next to Tom was at the epicenter of the brewing chaos.

How very foolish it all was.

Less than a minute in Nezaria territory was all Tom got to muse upon his situation, as he noticed a burst of violet flames blazing outward from one of three turrets that overlooked the manor’s territory.

Tom felt his hair stand on end as the mass of violet flames blurred forward, feeling a true threat for the first time since he had stepped out of the final sector.

A moment later, the silhouette wreathed in violet flames stood before Valeria, his sudden movement forcing Tom, Aleph and Zirel to break away in different directions to avoid being flanked from both their front and behind.

Tom noticed that temperature in the vicinity remained unaffected by the unknown card’s flames, causing his eyes to narrow in vigilance.

Whatever those flames did, they were dangerous.

A few moments ticked away in silence, before the violet flames dimmed in intensity to reveal a man standing in the midst of it.

His gray hair was neatly combed, his figure boasting a musculature that could only be described as intense. Even from underneath the chainmail armor that clung to his body, Tom could easily make out the contours of his arm and leg muscles.

Beast leather armor further shielded the gray haired man’s torso and legs, both layers of protection undoubtedly artifacts of some variety.

“Explain,” The gray-haired man said, his tone calm and oddly serene.

Tom took a moment to study his expression, noting the absolute ease with which he studied his surroundings— as if everything and everyone were in palm of his hand. This, Tom knew from his growing experience with a variety of “people”, if Maya could be called as such, was a man who expected others to follow him, a man accustomed to receiving respect and obedience without calling for it.

“Father,” Valeria acknowledged, the only one not fazed by his abrupt entrance when even the guards had flinched. “There was an assassination attempt made upon my person during the practical examinations held outside the academy”.

Contrary to what Professor Neliel had expected, there was no murderous rage visible on the gray-haired man’s visage, a person that undoubtedly had to be Lord Ramav Nezaria.

“Is that so?” He asked, his tone unmoved by the revelation. “Oh daughter of mine, do you remember what I told you last time, before you left for the academy?”

Valeria blinked, before her eyes widened in realization.

“You told me about an impersonator who could deceive our measures and infiltrate the Noble District. A warning given to you by the king, himself,” Valeria answered.

“Then you understand why I am skeptical,” Lord Ramav Nezaria replied. “Tell me something that only my Valeria would know,” He asked of his own daughter, his tone firm but not harsh.

“Here?” She asked.

Lord Ramav Nezaria nodded.

“Very well, father,” She replied, as a smile tugged at her lips. “On my sixth nameday, you promised me that you would never allow me to be married into the Nottrakon Family.”

Tom blinked.

Aleph shuffled and Zirel just about managed to suppress a chuckle.

The change on Lord Ramav Nezaria’s features was instant, as he swept his daughter into a hug, relief flooding his features.

“Who?” He asked, his tone low and even calmer than it had been before.

Tom felt a chill creep down his back.

That word contained a promise he did not wish to be the recipient of.

“That conversation is best reserved for closed doors,” Valeria replied softly. “Until then, father— meet Synrak Veralis, Conqueror of the Zelez Dungeon’s final sector and the man that saved my life.”

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