Not only was his mental health taking a hit, but even his straightforward way of thinking was crumbling as this discussion dragged on.
Their abnormal way of seeing things didn't align with his, reflecting the complexity of their perspectives. The blend of brutal traditions, conflicting emotions, and peculiar pragmatism was hard for Dylan to digest.
He swallowed hard and responded cautiously:
"Well, that makes sense. You said it was her mother who raised you, right? She's known you since you were a child. Maybe she sees you as a figure tied to her childhood, someone linked to her mother... the one she was forced to kill to claim the throne."
Basaros seemed to consider this for a moment. His single eye narrowed slightly, as if weighing the weight of Dylan's words.
"Interesting," he finally said in a neutral tone. "But what I want to do has nothing to do with feelings."
He shrugged, his expression oscillating between acceptance and a hint of regret.
"In the meantime, I'll keep serving her. Maybe one day, I'll show her that I'm not just... a living memory of her past."
Dylan nodded slowly, unsure of what to add. The conversation was taking an emotional turn he hadn't anticipated, and he feared that continuing down this path might cause Basaros to shut down—or worse, become angry.
But despite himself, a question burned on his lips:
"And what if she rejects you again? If she refuses to see you as anything more than a brother?"
Basaros burst out laughing, a deep and powerful sound that echoed through the cave.
"Ah, that's exactly where you come in, human."
He leaned slightly toward Dylan, his lopsided smile widening in a way that was almost unsettling.
"I plan to trade you for a good night with her."
Dylan felt a chill run down his spine. The air grew heavier as Basaros stared at him, his single eye gleaming with a calculating light.
"And here I thought I'd earned his trust," Dylan thought bitterly.
He tried to mask his discomfort with a forced smile, but his darting gaze betrayed his unease. The situation was taking a turn he hadn't anticipated, and the idea of being used as a bargaining chip—especially in such a grotesque context—unnerved him.
"Ah... well... that's an... original strategy," he stammered, searching for the right words.
Basaros burst out laughing again, his deep voice resonating in the cavern.
"You're funny, human. But no one earns trust with someone who's already decided to kill them," he said, a sly grin spreading across his lips.
Dylan felt a cold sweat slide down his back. The cyclops was right... never trust someone who's already considered killing you. But in his case, earning Basaros's trust was never the goal.
Dylan wanted to survive, and he would use every tool at his disposal—even if it meant manipulating everyone.
"Ah... well, I suppose that's... a failure. Here I thought I could help you," he replied awkwardly, desperately searching for a verbal way out of this increasingly tense conversation.
"Isn't it you who wants to win over the Matriarch?" he finally said, his tone laced with boldness and irony.
Basaros stared at him, his single eye gleaming with an unreadable light.
"Don't worry, human," he said with a smirk. "I'm not one to fall for such tricks. I believe in my plan, and I'm sure it'll work."
Dylan forced a smile, trying to convince himself that Basaros was... half-joking. He quickly thought of a response.
"Well, I guess I should consider myself lucky," he said cautiously, his tone slightly mocking to mask his anxiety.
"Lucky?" Basaros laughed again, this time louder. "You're far more than lucky. If I hadn't seen some amusing potential in you, you'd already be a cold pile of flesh by now."
Dylan's stomach knotted, but he forced himself to keep a neutral expression.
"Well, I'm glad to know I'm entertaining," he replied with a hint of irony.
Basaros nodded, his laughter fading.
"You might be more interesting than I thought, human. Perhaps even enough to intrigue the Matriarch. But don't get it twisted... you're still a tool, nothing more."
Those words, though expected, hit Dylan like a slap. But instead of letting himself be overwhelmed, he mentally steeled himself. Perhaps he could turn the situation to his advantage.
"You say it's better if the Matriarch doesn't find me interesting," he said with a wolfish grin. "But aren't you a little worried she might prefer me to you?"
Basaros raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Dylan pressed on, deliberately provoking him:
"After all, I've got a nice face, I know my way around women... Maybe I could change her view of you and make her forget this whole sibling story. Who knows? I might even let you bite a few pieces."
The cyclops squinted, but there was an obvious glint of interest in his eye.
"Oh? You think you can do that?" he asked, sounding both suspicious and curious.
"Yes," Dylan replied, feigning confidence. "I can help you, but on one condition: you promise not to kill me. Keep me alive, keep her from killing me, and I'll make sure she ends up in your two hands."
Basaros cast a dreamy glance at his massive hands, muttering almost to himself, "Having Cynitha in my two hands... Haha!"
"That's not all," Dylan added, pressing his advantage. "I can make sure it's not just a one-time thing. So go ahead, kill me if you want... but you'd miss out on a lot more opportunities."
A predatory smile spread across Basaros's face.
"You're a sly one, human... but you've piqued my interest."
---
"Gotcha!" Dylan thought to himself, keeping his face neutral.
He knew he had to play it safe. The situation was already tense enough, and pushing Basaros further might tip everything over. Dylan had to remain calm, even though his mind was spinning.
Basaros had claimed he wouldn't fall so easily, but he'd already said too much. His ambitions, doubts, and even his strange fascination with the Matriarch were now levers Dylan could exploit.
Now, he just needed to find out where the Matriarch was.