Chapter 7: Lord Cedric's Rage
In the dim light of a narrow, sparsely furnished back room in Lord Cedric’s mansion, three figures huddled around a crumbling oak table, their voices low and taut with accusation. The smell of mildew and old paper clung to the air as if refusing to leave, and a single candle flickered hesitantly, casting long shadows that seemed to listen. Cedric, a bear of a man with sharp eyes and a growl to match, jabbed a finger toward his hapless conspirators.
"Did you know that child has the item box skill?" Cedric hissed, his words ricocheting off the damp stone walls. Akira leaned forward, looking both incredulous and slightly amused, as if he could not believe his delicate ears. Naomi held her hands clasped tightly, caught between the gravity of Cedric’s revelation and the suspicion that there might be worse to come.
Akira was the first to respond, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"No," Akira said, shaking his head slowly, "and I have no idea how she retrieved her citizen card."
He met Cedric’s glare with a half-smirk, as if the mystery were a particularly intriguing puzzle.
"It was in the sealed vault behind a painting last night," Akira continued, a touch of admiration sneaking into his tone, "so I did not think there was any risk of Hinata escaping Julia."
He paused, considering the implications. "There were no signs that it had been moved or touched in any manner this morning. If she stole it at night while we were sleeping next to it, then her skills as a scout and thief are far beyond mine. She must have a skill dedicated to such tasks."
Naomi shifted uncomfortably, her voice soft but clear as she joined the conversation.
"She behaved oddly at her baptism," Naomi said, her eyes flitting between the two men. "But that was all. We could tell she had likely concealed her skills, as her health, mana, and stamina values indicated on her citizen card were abnormal."
Naomi looked down, her brow furrowed with worry. "Skills like her swordsmanship showed up normally, so I believe only skills she trained in secret were hidden."
Akira’s interest seemed piqued by Naomi’s insight. He leaned back, his expression a mix of thoughtfulness and lingering shock.
"Given our most recent training," Akira began, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "I would estimate her strength attribute is higher than mine, which in itself is beyond strange."
Akira let out a soft, disbelieving chuckle. "Hinata could defeat me in a straight contest of arms, although I believe I have the advantage in technique and skills for assassination."
Cedric’s expression darkened further with each word, his frustration simmering to a boil.
"Absolutely worthless," Cedric snarled, his voice shaking with anger. "A decade of investment, wasted."
He turned on Akira and Naomi, his gaze burning with suspicion.
"How did she learn to conceal her skills? Who taught her?" Cedric’s words were sharp and unyielding, demanding an answer that neither could provide.
Naomi hesitated, her fingers twisting nervously as she ventured a reply.
"Neither of us could do so, as the slave contract binds us. The other staff members were instructed not to reveal anything, and we restricted their access to Hinata to prevent accidental slip-ups." Naomi took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she continued, "If I may be permitted to make an absurd guess, Hinata was often spotted in the library as an infant. I hesitate to suggest this, but maybe she somehow read it there? When we started to teach her to read and write, she was remarkably proficient for a small child."
Cedric’s eyes blazed with incredulity and rage.
"So," Cedric barked, the word cutting through the air like a whip, "you are hypothesizing that an infant outsmarted us?"
He stared at Naomi as if daring her to defend her absurdity.
"An infant, barely able to crawl, infiltrated the library, somehow located the necessary books to fully understand the gift of status magic the gods bestow upon all mortal beings, books on the restrictions of slavery, and books on the Adventurer's Guild policies." Cedric threw up his hands in exasperation. "Such stupidity. Someone has betrayed me."
Akira’s eyes narrowed, his tone calm but firm as he addressed Cedric.
"Given that the Adventurers' Guild now protects Hinata," Akira said, watching Cedric closely for a reaction, "perhaps we should walk away for now."
Cedric remained silent for a moment, his fury wrestling with his pride. Then, with a dismissive sweep of his hand, he declared, "The will of my beloved will be followed. I do not care if she is your daughter; it was Zala's wish that Julia and Hinata travel together as adventurers and learn about the world."
He fixed Akira with a steely gaze. "Those who do not fulfil my wishes are unnecessary."
Naomi flinched at Cedric’s ruthless words, desperation creeping into her voice as she interjected, "Lord Cedric, perhaps, just maybe, if we had approached Hinata directly, do you think that she and Lady Julia would have traveled together?"
Cedric’s tone turned cold and final, each word a dagger of authority.
"Julia is the daughter of a land-ruling noble," Cedric said, his voice brooking no argument. "Unlike when you adventured with Zala, Hinata and Julia are in completely different positions."
Naomi offered one last, tentative query, her voice barely above a whisper. "If you say so, my lord, then so be it. How are you going to explain Hinata's departure to Julia?"
"She probably will not even notice," Cedric replied coolly, his arrogance shining through his certainty. "I will just assign a different maid in Hinata's place."
***
The world narrowed to a long, shadow-draped corridor behind Cedric's private study, the kind of place where echoes and betrayal lingered longer than they should. He stood near a flickering torch that fought valiantly against the darkness, its light making monstrous things of the nearby shadows. They seemed to ripple with unspoken threats as a figure emerged from their depths, hooded and indistinct, his presence as unnerving as the chill that crawled along the stone walls.
The man hesitated in the murky glow, his voice slithering into the silence. "My lord, do you have need of the Assassin Guilds' services?"
Cedric’s eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto the newcomer, his ambitions as stark as the dimly lit corridor.
"Yes," Cedric replied sharply, each word a shard of iron. "I would like to place a 500 gold bounty on the capture of Hinata Hikara."
The name lingered in the air like a ghost, and the torchlight flickered uncertainly, as if it too were taken aback by the audacity of his demand.
The hooded figure tilted his head, a subtle gesture that seemed to absorb the shadows and make them his own. His voice remained low, almost curious. "Alive?"
Cedric’s jaw clenched, irritation threading through his response. "Yes, alive. Hinata possesses rare and valuable skills that will benefit my house." He took a step closer, the flickering light playing across his features, casting them into harsh relief. "You and your companions are welcome to rough her up, but she must be delivered to me alive and unspoiled."
The figure appeared to consider this, the folds of his cloak shifting like liquid darkness.
"1,250 gold, minimum," he said finally, the words precise and unyielding. "The risks are higher than you think with that girl and with the Adventurers' Guild watching so closely, the danger is high. If you would like us to kill the girl and retrieve a token, 500 gold is sufficient. If no token is required, 300 gold is fine."
Cedric’s eyes narrowed to slits, his resentment simmering beneath the surface. He struggled with the cost, the weight of it pressing against his pride.
"Fine," Cedric growled, his voice thick with reluctance. "1,250 gold. No mistakes."
The figure inclined his head, a shadowy nod that was almost a bow.
"Pleasure doing business with you, my lord." His tone was flat, as though discussing nothing more significant than the weather. "I shall reach out with results in the near future."
With that, the darkness seemed to gather around the figure like a cloak, absorbing him into its depths and leaving Cedric alone with his simmering resentment and calculated determination. The torch flickered again, casting an ominous dance of light and shadow that mirrored the tangled web of his ambitions.
For a moment, Cedric stood still, letting the chill of the corridor seep into his bones. The encounter had left him with a bitter taste, the certainty of betrayal gnawing at his confidence. But beneath the simmering resentment lay a stubborn core of resolve. He was not a man to be outmaneuvered, not by an upstart like Hinata, nor by the Adventurers' Guild that had so cleverly sheltered her.
He replayed the conversation in his mind, each word a calculated risk, each pause a gamble. It was not the first time he had walked such a perilous path, and it would not be the last. The thrill of the game—the dance of shadows and deception—was one he knew well, one he had mastered over decades of strategic cunning.
Cedric’s thoughts turned to Julia, his beloved daughter, and the tangled threads of loyalty and power that bound them all together. He had underestimated Hinata’s cunning once, but it would not happen again. The girl was a prize worth the price, and if he had to wade through a river of gold and blood to reclaim her, so be it. The item box skill alone made that clear, and the girl was clearly concealing much more than that.
His confidence surged as he considered the inevitability of his victory. The assassins guild were professionals, and their business-like detachment assured him that they would not be swayed by the same sentimentality that had undermined his plans before. In the end, gold would speak louder than loyalty, and he had more than enough to drown out any opposition.
With a final, determined glance down the shadowed corridor, Cedric turned away, his mind already working on the next move in the intricate game he played. The torch flickered one last time, casting his retreating form in a wavering silhouette that spoke of ambitions yet unfulfilled.
***
The dining hall stretched in solemn silence, a wide and austere room where even whispers dared not linger. Morning light filtered through high windows, painting long shadows on the polished wood floor and illuminating the emptiness of a single, grand table. It sat like a ship adrift in a sea of discontent, with only Cedric and his seething ambition for company. The silence shattered as Julia burst into the room, her presence electric with indignation. Her orange eyes flared like the sunrise, and her voice rang with fierce determination as she faced her father.
"You are a dumbass, Father!" Julia declared, her accusation echoing through the hall with the force of a small rebellion.
Cedric started, nearly upsetting the austere composure he wore like armor. He met his daughter’s fierce gaze, his expression a mixture of surprise and impatience.
"Julia," he began, attempting to steer the conversation with practiced authority, "there are matters here you do not understand."
"What I understand," Julia interrupted, her voice cutting through his excuses like a knife, "is that you should not have interfered with my relationship with Hinata at all."
Cedric straightened, the lines of his face tightening into a mask of parental resolve.
"Her behavior is treacherous," Cedric insisted, his tone ringing with the certainty of a man unaccustomed to challenge. "One day, her power may allow her to usurp our role as lord of the city."
"Only you care about that, Father!" Julia shot back, her defiance a bright, burning thing that filled the room with its heat. She stood with hands on hips, embodying a storm that would not be easily weathered. Her declaration echoed, resonant with conviction.
Akira and Naomi, who had entered in Julia’s fiery wake, exchanged looks of disbelief from their place by the doorway. The drama of the scene was not new to them, but Julia’s forceful stance, her rebellion against Cedric’s authority, seemed to hold an edge sharper than ever.
Cedric attempted to regroup, his voice smooth and controlled as he countered, "But you must see, my dearest, that I acted with your best interests in mind."
Julia shook her head, her orange hair a brilliant cascade of indignation. "I am fine with her not being my slave. I would have run away from you too!"
Cedric struggled to contain his frustration, the seams of his composure straining.
"Hinata's departure," Cedric said, his voice a taut thread of justification, "was a necessary step. You would have been hurt in the end."
Julia crossed the room, her footsteps echoing like the drumbeat of an approaching revolt. Her eyes met Cedric’s with unwavering challenge, her words as fierce as a warrior’s battle cry. "I would be happy to just be with her."
Cedric was momentarily struck silent, his mind grappling with the full weight of Julia’s declaration. He looked past her to Akira and Naomi, his eyes searching for some form of support. Naomi’s gaze was soft but resigned, while Akira’s reflected a mixture of amusement and frustration at the unfolding family drama.
The tension in the room swelled, a living thing that pressed against the walls and seemed to bend the very light streaming in from above. Cedric regained his voice, now tinged with a note of vulnerability that he could not fully mask.
“Julia," Cedric began again, struggling to reassert control, "there are positions and roles to consider."
Julia was relentless, her determination like the dawning sun, bright and impossible to ignore.
"Only you care about those, Father!" Julia repeated, her voice a clear, unwavering echo of her earlier words. "Hinata is my best friend, my little sister, and that is what matters to me."
Cedric’s face drained of color for a moment before a flush of frustration returned it. He had never been good at understanding emotions that did not come with a ledger sheet or a power map. Yet there it was, stark and undeniable: Julia's loyalty was a currency he could not control, a rebellion that would not be subdued by simple authority.
The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved tension and the silent acknowledgment by all present that the bonds within this household, however strained, ran deeper than power struggles alone. Cedric's composure returned slowly, like a fortress rebuilding itself stone by stone. His glare hardened, not only at Julia but at the specter of losing control over the intricate web of ambitions he had spun so carefully.
Julia, her stance defiant yet protective, stood her ground, a small figure in the grand hall yet commanding it with every ounce of her youthful will. Cedric weighed the implications of her words, his thoughts a tumult of strategy and emotion. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Julia turned away, her chin held high, leaving him to the vast emptiness of the table and the sudden quiet that seemed louder than the confrontation itself.
Naomi and Akira exchanged a final look, this one edged with a shared understanding of the cycles of loyalty and ambition that had once again tangled themselves into the fabric of their lives. The dining hall remained, a mute witness to the clash of wills and the familial bonds that, despite everything, refused to break.
