Aelorin moved steadily through the halls, his mind racing as he searched for his mother. She wasn't in her room, and that wasn't particularly strange. With a sigh, he figured she had gone to the village to address some matters, most likely accompanied by his father, Lord Ruham. That man never missed a chance to oversee the people under his rule.
The thought tugged at Aelorin's patience. "As for my other foolish siblings..." he muttered under his breath, "None of them are here either. Arianna, Elowen... It's like they all vanished."
It annoyed him more than he'd care to admit. "I've wasted a hundred and sixty steps wandering this place, when I could have been using that time to explore the system even more. Typical." His face twisted in slight frustration, his thoughts drifting back to his obsession—he was on the verge of discovering the full strength of a Slime, a creature everyone underestimated, but he was close to uncovering its true potential. The thought alone almost brought a smug grin to his face.
But before he could indulge himself, a loud **thud** shattered the silence of the grand house, echoing through its massive halls.
Aelorin stopped in his tracks, ears perking up. It wasn't the sound that struck him—the house had always been filled with noise—but rather the **echo** that followed. A sound like that didn't just happen in a place as lively as this. Normally, he'd hear bustling attendants or the clatter of kitchenware, but today, there was nothing. An eerie silence had crept in, unnoticed until now.
"Echo? In this house?" he whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by his growing anxiety. He immediately spun on his heels, making his way toward the source of the noise. His gut twisted, a cold shiver spreading through his body with every step. 'There must be an intruder,' he thought, his heart thudding in sync with his quickening pace.
By the time he reached the main hall, Aelorin's body was tense, every sense heightened. He glanced down, eyes catching on the red rug beneath his feet. Something wasn't right. Dropping into a crouch, he reached out and ran his fingers across the fabric.
{Insight}
{Elf male blood, fresh}
{Time of bleeding: 40 seconds}
'Forty seconds,' Aelorin's heart skipped a beat. 'The intruder is fast... too fast.' His mind worked at a dizzying speed. 'Whoever did this took out one of the guards, hid the body, and almost perfectly cleaned the rug in less than a minute. But... no, it's not just one guard.'
He began to piece it together. The house had six guards at the entrance alone, plus two stationed upstairs for backup in case of an attack. A group of intruders—likely four—must have overwhelmed them in seconds, catching them by surprise. And there, in the rug's pattern, faint footmarks.
'Some of them are injured,' Aelorin deduced. 'But their speed... they aren't as fast as me.' His confidence sparked. If he could sneak up on them, he could take out three before they even knew what hit them.
Straightening, Aelorin eyed the staircase leading to the upper floors. 'They must be heading that way.' Sure enough, as he ascended, he spotted another tiny drop of blood—a drop so faint it blended with the deep red of the rug, but thanks to his Insight skill, it was impossible to miss.
His mind whirled with thoughts. 'They're incredibly organized, managing to neutralize every guard and attendant in the house. They've hidden the bodies so well you'd think this place was abandoned.' He shook his head, his frustration building. 'What do they want?'
Several possibilities ran through his mind, but the most likely scenario? Someone sent them to kill his father, Lord Ruham, and take his place. Politics in the realm was ruthless, and power-hungry rivals were always lurking in the shadows. Another possibility was a robbery, timed perfectly with the village festival. But then there was a third, darker reason he didn't want to consider…
A sudden **clatter** jolted Aelorin from his thoughts. He leaped to the nearest wall, pressing himself flat against it, his small frame blending into the shadows. The noise had come from a nearby room, followed by the unmistakable sound of angry voices.
"They're either confident or stupid to be yelling like that," Aelorin whispered, his hand instinctively summoning a portion of his slime. From his palm, a pitch-black sword formed, its edge sharp and menacing. He edged closer to the room, his mind racing with possibilities. He couldn't afford to rush in blind. The closest of the intruders was injured, holding his gut in pain. He'd be the easiest to take down first.
Aelorin gripped his sword tightly, planning his attack. Just as he prepared to move, a voice cut through the air.
"Shit! Princess Arianna is gone! I thought she would be here, like the format said!" one of the men yelled, his frustration punctuated by the violent crash of a boot smashing into a wooden bed. The bed gave way, splintering under the force.
'Arianna? My sister? Why her? I should be the perfect candidate at most' Aelorin's brow furrowed. Of all the Lord's children, Arianna was the target? He would have made more sense as a hostage if they wanted leverage over their father. Something wasn't adding up.
But before he could process it, another voice, much calmer, spoke up.
"Don't worry about the sister. We don't need her."
Aelorin froze. His eyes widened, heart hammering in his chest. They weren't speaking to each other—someone was addressing **him**.
'Did they notice me?' Panic flared in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. He peered into the room, confirming his worst fear. No one was there except the four masked men. How did they know he was listening?
The bandit with the calm voice raised his hand to his head, adjusting the bag that concealed his face. "You wonder why we have these bags on our heads? It's because I've been pumping sleeping gas into this room for the last few minutes."
Aelorin's blood ran cold as the man continued. "That gas must've really seeped into your system by now. You should be feeling dizzy."
And right on cue, Aelorin's vision blurred. His body swayed as the world around him twisted, the walls bending at unnatural angles. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, helpless. He could barely make out the bandit's face as the gas took full effect.
"That gas could knock out a bear for a whole day. Now that we have a member of the royal family, let's get out of this village and..."
The bandit's voice faded into a distant murmur. Aelorin fought to stay conscious, his mind screaming in frustration. 'Wow, I didn't even get to move an inch. They're... good.'
And as darkness claimed him, his last thought drifted with dry humor, 'And they kind of look like kidnappers.'
***Author's note***
I have been a very lazy author. This is a second chapter for today. Thanks for reading, Vote me!