As Amukelo took a seat, his gaze shifted between the small group, and he asked, "Are we still waiting for Bao and Pao's parents?"
Lord Berthold's expression softened as he shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Amukelo. They're out of town on family matters. It'll likely be another two or three weeks before they return."
Amukelo nodded, though a faint shadow of disappointment appeared on his face.
Seeking to lighten the atmosphere, he forced a small, "Apologies for being late. My… companion wasn't feeling well, and I had to take care of her."
Lord Berthold's eyebrows rose with interest as he gestured for Amukelo to take a seat. "Ah, so you have a companion now?"
Amukelo let out an awkward laugh. "Yeah, I owe her family a debt. They saved my life, and her father requested that I let her travel with me. So, here we are," he said, his voice holding a mixture of humor and mild exasperation. "She's a noble."
Berthold's eyes glinted with intrigue as he poured a drink for Amukelo. "A noble, you say? And where did this meeting happen, if I might ask? Norton, I presume?"
Amukelo nodded, lifting the glass in gratitude before taking a sip. "Yes, in Norton."
Berthold gave a slight nod, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as if connecting a few dots. "Would her family, by any chance, be the Covingfields?"
Amukelo paused, his brow furrowing for a moment before he recalled the name Eliss had used when they'd arrived in Norton. He nodded. "Yes, that's the one."
A knowing look crossed Berthold's face as he chuckled lightly. "Is the young lady you're traveling with named Eliss, by chance?"
Amukelo looked at him with surprised expression. "Yes… How do you know?"
Berthold chuckled again, swirling his own drink thoughtfully. "An old friend," he replied. "Roland, her father. I haven't seen him in some years, but I've heard of Eliss. Considering her past, it doesn't entirely surprise me that a family of such status would allow an unpredictable journey for their eldest child."
Though Amukelo hadn't asked many personal questions of Eliss, he found himself intrigued by the way Berthold spoke. "Her past?" he inquired.
Berthold gave a small nod, his expression turning solemn as he leaned back in his chair. "I take it she hasn't shared much with you?"
Amukelo shook his head, feeling a slight tension as he wondered what could have driven someone like Eliss, with all her energy and impulsiveness, to such a path. She had always struck him as a mixture of naivety and resilience, but he had sensed there was something more beneath her carefree exterior.
"Well, I don't know all the details myself," Berthold began, his voice low, "but I do know she was involved in a mission a few years back. She was thirteen or fourteen at the time, and the whole thing turned out terribly wrong."
"From what I understand, it was a venture meant to be routine or some kind of learning experience, but it went awry. Many people lost their lives, and I've heard whispers that some of her friends were among them. I can't imagine what it must have been like at such a young age, but… I believe it left a mark on her." He paused, his eyes distant, as if recalling painful memories of his own. "After that, Roland mentioned she'd changed. She was quieter, reserved. But perhaps the worst was the guilt… it was clear that she'd taken responsibility for much of it, even though, as a child, there was little she could have done to alter the outcome."
Amukelo remained silent, absorbing the words. All these overreacting after feeling a sense of failure now made more sense.
A silence hung heavy in the room after Berthold's words, the crackling of the fire in the corner the only sound breaking the stillness. Amukelo sat with his glass in hand, staring at the liquid swirling within it.
After a longer pause lord Alaric, finally spoke. "So, considering that you're here… I take it you achieved your revenge."
Amukelo didn't respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on his drink, his face expressionless, though there was an unmistakable weight in his silence.
"But what happened?" Alaric continued, leaning forward slightly. "If you truly rid the world of the one responsible for our loss, then the rest of the Nameless Dynasty should've been after you. How did you manage to get here so quickly? Surely they didn't just let you walk away."
Amukelo's grip tightened slightly around his glass. After a long pause, he lifted it to his lips, draining the remaining drink in one go.
The butler, standing at the corner of the room, stepped forward to refill Amukelo's glass. Amukelo nodded his thanks, taking the newly filled glass and holding it for a moment as he seemed to gather his thoughts.
"I'm not exactly sure what happened," Amukelo admitted. "But I was going after one of their three commanders. Neclord White." His tone sharpened slightly at the name. "And while I was dealing with him… someone else attacked the Nameless Dynasty's main base."
Alaric nodded slowly. "No wonder," he muttered. "The timing would've been perfect for someone else to use the distraction. The Dynasty played dirty, and they made too many enemies. Blackmail, kidnappings, extortion… they practically invited retribution."
Berthold leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he swirled his own drink. "The Covingfields, for one, owe you a significant debt for what you did," he remarked. "Your actions weakened the Dynasty far beyond what you may realize. They didn't blackmail the Covingfields directly, but they were bleeding them dry, siphoning profits under threat. And the Covingfields couldn't move against them, not with the leverage the Dynasty had on other key figures."
He tilted his head. "Now that you've shattered their power, the Covingfields stand to gain immensely. You've essentially handed them a golden opportunity for growth and influence. Honestly, I'd say you've done far more for them than they've done for you."
Amukelo's face didn't change, though he gave a faint nod of acknowledgment. His eyes remained fixed on his drink. He raised it to his lips and took another slow sip
Lord Alaric's keen gaze lingered on him, his curiosity still unabated. "But how?" he asked. "How did you manage to take down Neclord? From what I've heard, the Nameless Dynasty wouldn't have been ignorant of a secondary attack. They'd have concentrated their forces on protecting someone like him, especially with his rank, and place."
Berthold nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It's unlikely they'd have let their guard down completely, even during an external assault. They'd have had more than enough forces to fend off both an internal and external threat."
Lady Odette, silent until now, added softly, "And yet you're here, alive. It's remarkable, really. Either you're extraordinarily skilled, or the Dynasty made a critical misstep."
Amukelo remained silent, his eyes fixed on his drink as the weight of their questions hung in the air. He drained his glass again, setting it down with a quiet clink on the wooden table. His hand rested on the glass for a moment, his fingers tightening slightly as if steadying himself.