Sylvester was dumbfounded, to say the least. He had only sought to gain mastery over metal manipulation, yet he now found himself entangled in the intricacies of noble politics.
However, an even greater surprise awaited him as the Viscount began to stir from his bed. With long, ashen hair cascading over his shoulders, the man's thin and wrinkled face revealed his advanced age.
But then, in a sudden shift of energy, the Viscount rose himself with the help of his arms and pulled himself onto the crude, wooden chair with wheels beside the bed, his entire demeanor transforming before Sylvester's eyes.
