Nobilitas Lapsorum: Servant of the Abyss

One of the hooded figures stopped in front of the false wall. After examining it, he discovered the hidden section. He raised the carbide lamp he carried, illuminating the interior.

Nothing useful. No documents. Not a single piece of evidence.

One by one, the hooded intruders regrouped.

Arkhiel considered his options.

Following them was risky. The night was nearly over, and if he didn't return soon, someone might notice his absence from the Vallenwood estate. Harriet, in particular, had an almost supernatural sense for detecting irregularities.

But if he let them go, he'd lose the chance to find out who they served.

He had no choice.

He stepped out of the shadows and revealed himself.

"Before you leave…" he said calmly, "why don't you answer a few questions for me?"

All four turned at once, silent and unreadable. None of them seemed inclined to talk.

The first one charged him without hesitation.

Arkhiel directed mana to his limbs, enhancing his speed and agility as he activated the Nocturnal Dance ability.

His body moved through the attacks with grace. Every movement was precise and fluid.

Without stopping, he conjured Shade Armament, and a short blade of black smoke materialized in his hand.

A second attacker came in from the flank. Arkhiel unleashed Night Strike, driving the blade in a swift thrust that cleanly slit the enemy's throat.

One by one, the hooded figures fell. Their defenses were solid, their techniques well-trained, but the night was Arkhiel's hunting ground.

He had intended to leave one of them alive. Only one had put up a decent fight.

His style was different, more refined. He even managed to land a shallow cut on Arkhiel's arm with a curved dagger.

But it wasn't enough.

Arkhiel disarmed him and pinned him down, leaving him defenseless.

"Now," Arkhiel said, pressing the blade to the man's throat, "answer me. Who sent you?"

The hooded figure said nothing.

He just stared.

Then, with a sudden motion, he drew a hidden dagger. Arkhiel reacted immediately, pulling back. But the man didn't aim at him.

Without hesitation, he slit his own throat.

Arkhiel tried to cast a healing spell, but it was useless; the man died instantly.

That wasn't normal. That kind of loyalty, or fear, only existed among fanatics or members of extremely disciplined organizations.

He searched the corpses for anything useful, information, tokens, or symbols, but it was all in vain.

Arkhiel returned with resignation.

He had no answers, only more questions. All he brought back were Percival's hidden documents. So many names. So many leads. He would eventually have to investigate every single one.

But not yet.

He returned to the Vallenwood mansion just before the first light of dawn crept over the horizon.

He entered his room without a sound, carefully stored the documents, cleaned himself, and changed clothes.

He straightened his butler uniform, white gloves, a perfectly buttoned vest, and a black bow tie.

Fully dressed, he walked down the hall toward Lina's room.

In front of the door, he knocked twice, gently.

"Lina," he said in a calm but firm voice, "it's time to get up."

It took a few seconds for her to respond.

"Mmmnnngh... I don't wanna…" her muffled voice groaned from the other side.

"If you don't get up now, Harriet will take care of you."

There was a short silence, followed by a stifled yelp and a thud, like someone falling out of bed.

"I'm awake! No need to yell!"

The door burst open, and Lina poked her head out.

"This isn't fair!" she complained more clearly. "Why do I have to study? I'm not even a noble!"

"Today you'll study with one."

Lina let out a wounded groan.

"I'm a maid, not a scholar! Why do I have to learn things I'll never use?!"

"That's what Lord Cedric requested," Arkhiel replied calmly. "We're to accompany Lady Celica to the Royal Academy."

"But Harriet didn't have to study when she went with Lady Isolde."

"It's different with us. We must keep constant watch over Lady Celica."

"I'm too beautiful to study."

"…What?"

"Did you know stress harms magical beings as beautiful as me?"

"Five minutes. Be ready. I'm going to wake Celica."

"Noooo! Don't leave me alone! Tell Harriet I died!"

"…"

As Arkhiel walked away, he could still hear her muttering something about convincing Celica to run off into the forest.

When he reached Celica's room, he knocked twice as well.

"It's time, Lady Celica."

"I'm already awake," she replied.

She opened the door less than a minute later, wearing a modest yet elegant and comfortable dress.

"Is Lina up yet?"

"She's alive."

"Did she say anything about the cursed book again?"

"This time she said something about being a beautiful, magical creature."

Just then, hurried footsteps echoed at the end of the hallway. Lina rounded the corner, already dressed in her black maid uniform, her hair neatly tied, her expression resigned.

She said nothing.

She gave a small curtsy upon reaching them and walked in silence behind Celica. She had to maintain appearances in front of others.

They descended the main staircase together.

In the dining room, two maids stood by the door, already in position. One stepped forward to open it the moment she heard footsteps approaching.

Celica entered first. Arkhiel and Lina followed.

A third maid had already set the table, plates, utensils, and breakfast all in place.

Celica sat with elegance in her assigned seat. Arkhiel stood directly behind her, and Lina took her place at her left.

Shortly after, the sound of firm footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.

Cedric stepped through the door, followed closely by Isolde, her posture straight and expression calm.

The maids bowed respectfully as the duke passed. Celica stood briefly to greet him. Arkhiel and Lina bowed in unison.

"Good morning," said Cedric, taking his seat at the head of the table without waiting for any pleasantries.

"Good morning, Father. Sister," Celica replied.

"Good morning," Isolde responded with a faint smile. "You look presentable."

Celica didn't rise to the bait.

The maids moved at once, serving tea.

"I hope you're all prepared for today," Cedric said while slicing his bread. "The first tutor will arrive in less than an hour."

"Of course, my Lord," Lina and Arkhiel replied in unison.

Once breakfast was over, Cedric dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin, stood without another word, and exited the dining room. The maids opened the door, and the duke disappeared down the corridor.

Celica rose gracefully. Arkhiel and Lina followed her without needing instruction.

Just as they were about to step through the doorway, Isolde's soft voice stopped them.

"Arkhiel," said Isolde. "I'd like to speak with you for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

Celica turned slightly, fixing her older sister with a stare. She said nothing.

Arkhiel nodded, his expression unchanged.

"Of course, Lady Isolde."

Still, Celica didn't interfere. She continued down the hallway, Lina following closely behind.

"This way," Isolde instructed, without needing to explain further.

They walked silently to one of the side rooms on the second floor. It was Isolde's study, filled with perfectly aligned books. A dark wooden desk stood in front of the window.

Isolde moved behind the desk, sat down, and gestured to a chair across from her.

"Sit."

Arkhiel obeyed.

A few seconds of silence passed.

"Tell me, Arkhiel… what's your opinion of House Vallenwood?"

Please leave me alone, Arkhiel lamented inwardly.

"Would you like me to speak as a servant… or as an observer?"

"As yourself."

Arkhiel already had a prewritten script prepared for when this moment came.

"What could I say that you don't already know, Lady Isolde?" Arkhiel began. "I see a powerful house, with deep roots in the kingdom's structure. A name that still commands respect, but one with enemies in the shadows. And allies who are such only while it suits them."

Isolde showed no reaction. That was the kind of answer she had expected.

"Internally, there's a generational rift. Your father, the duke, maintains control through a mixture of authority and fear. But respect built solely on power rarely endures beyond one generation. I'm not saying you can't achieve something similar; it just takes time. Your reputation, while solid, isn't enough to inspire universal respect. But I imagine you already know that. That's probably why you made sure to build strong connections at the Royal Academy. Maybe even some with dangerous people."

Isolde narrowed her eyes slightly.

"I asked about our house… not about me."

"People always end up talking about themselves."

"What makes you think I've made those kinds of connections?"

"Because I know you like to control everything. Most people, when seeking allies, look for the most loyal, the most docile, or the most predictable. But dangerous people like you… always look for useful allies before they look for loyal ones."

Arkhiel avoided meeting her gaze.

"And if you were in my position… what would you do?"

"I'd try to build networks from the shadows. People fear the powerful. But they fear the unknown even more."

Isolde showed no expression. But her silence revealed that she was listening more intently than she let on.

"You have a brilliant mind, that much is clear. But your most dangerous trait isn't your intelligence, it's your unpredictability. If I were in your place… I'd probably be doing exactly what you're already doing."

Isolde nearly let out a satisfied laugh.

Arkhiel hadn't said anything extraordinary. He'd merely recited a version of the same dialogue that, in the game, always earned a faint smile from Isolde. He couldn't recall the exact words, but it was always something between flattering and insightful. After all, most of what he said, Isolde would have done in the original story. His role now was simply to confirm what she already knew about herself.

Isolde looked at him silently for a few seconds before speaking again.

"Modesty is a kind of disguise. And you don't seem like someone who hides their intentions without reason."

"Are you suggesting I have a hidden motive?"

"I'm suggesting you simply haven't revealed it yet."