CHAPTER 25: IMPRISONED NOBLE

Soon enough, his eyes opened, looking up at the dawn sky. As soon as his consciousness returned, he grabbed his chest, sitting up–ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. It was there, beating as normal.

[Level Up!] [20 — 23] [4500/35000]

[Physical Attributes: 52 | Rank (B) Knight]

[Magical Attributes: 67 | Rank (B+) Senior Mage]

To his surprise, his system was elevated even as defeat laid clear on his mind. There was no doubt he came nowhere close to defeating Elias, yet the experience was there all the same, like a bitter reminder.

As he picked himself up, he squinted as the sunlight reflected off the dazzling surface of the now glass plateau. Attempting to shield the light with his hand, it gave off much the same radiance, almost forgetting the state he had left himself in.

’He gave me back my heart...Well, I didn’t think he’d kill me. A chance to show him a better way...If he meant it, then–the fight is over, for now,’ he thought, walking to the edge of the mountaintop.

Hopping off the side of the colossal cliff, the wind around his body guided him through the air. He soared over, passing by the clouds until he found himself right over the castle belonging to Haul.

Like a thunderbolt descending, he landed with a sigh, finding a familiar sight in the courtyard.

"Nngh..." The exhausted adventurer picked himself up, sitting on the steps.

"Yo, Phoenix," Leon waved with his glass hand.

The fiery swordsman looked over in surprise, "Hey—woah! What happened to your hand?!"

"Oh, this? Well...Let’s just call it a learning experience. Anyway, are you alright?" Leon asked, lending his hand to the adventurer.

Phoenix accepted the help as he jumped to his feet, looking around at the battle-torn courtyard, "I’m fine...Guess you handled that guy?"

"Handled would be a generous way of putting it...I definitely got beat," Leon admitted, scratching his head.

It looked like the fiery adventurer had seen a ghost as he waved his hands, "You? Lost?! Am I hearing that right–?! If that’s the case, then..."

"Elias withdrew on his own accord," Leon explained. "He gave me the chance to make things right."

"Make it right? Isn’t it the Brotherhood at fault here?" Phoenix asked with a raised eyebrow.

Looking up at the pale moon, conflicted answers arose in the heart of the young lord before he set his sights towards the front doors of the castle.

"It’s time to have a talk with Darius Haul himself," Leon said, glancing over at his companion. "Can you do me a favor and grab those at the cabin?"

"Yeah, no problem, Boss," Phoenix accepted with a nod, hurrying off towards the woods.

Alone, he approached the tall doors separating the innards of the castle from the outside air. A silent lobby of desecrated wealth welcomed him in, with a toppled chandelier setting the atmosphere.

’Looks like the Brotherhood ran through here without much care,’ he thought.

There was hardly anything that could be recognized as "valuable" left, with no paintings or antiques left to decorate the halls. He ventured through the corridors, finding his way to a descent of steps leading into a grimy basement.

As he traversed the stairwell, his footsteps echoed through the dark depths, hearing rustling from the bounds of the basement.

"Hello...? Listen, let me go and I’ll give you whatever you want, as I said..." The desperate words came from a meager voice within the darkness.

At the bottom of the steps, all he found were steel bars that held a malnourished, red-bearded man in a torn, red suit. The nobleman looked as thin as a skeleton, bound by chains, sitting on what looked to be a magical seal written onto the ground.

’An anti-magic prison. That’s one way to keep somebody powerlessly captive,’ he thought.

Stepping closer, he addressed the bound figure, "You’re Darius Haul?"

"I...I am—you, you’re not with the Brotherhood?" The thin nobleman stammered.

"I’m Leon Schoeller. Your sister sent for my assistance," he introduced himself.

Darius crawled forward, clinging to the bars, "Elena did...? If you’re here, then—you’ve dealt with those scoundrels?! They’re—"

"Dealt with. For now," Leon answered.

"They’re not dead...? Well—open this cell already! Get me out of this filth!" Darius hurriedly demanded.

The order given by the malnourished nobleman held little weight to Leon, who stood there, looking at the worn figure.

"What’re you standing there for...? You were hired to rescue me, weren’t you—?" Darius questioned, staring right at him with his desperate, verdant eyes.

"Before any of that, I have to make certain of some things," Leon told him.

"Certain? Just open this cell already...! What the hell did we pay you for then?!" Darius hissed, tugging on the metal bars.

Leon swiped his hand, conjuring a howl of wind that silenced the imprisoned man. A careful amount of restraint was needed, seeing as a harsh breath seemed to be enough to crumble the thinly form of Darius.

"Is it about the payment...? We can discuss the terms—what did Elena promise? Partial rights to the mines? You can have more!" Darius pleaded desperately.

"I want a quarter," Leon claimed.

"H-half?!" Darius stammered, going pale in the face.

"And another quarter will be given to the families of the miners who’ve suffered under your management," the young lord ordered.

Almost more than the loss of resources, the thinly nobleman looked repulsed at the idea of giving anything to who he suggested.

Darius scoffed, "...Those men signed up for this job—they knew the risks! Commoners are not beholden to the treasures of the Haul Family!"

"If you refuse those terms, then I suppose I’ll have to let the Brotherhood return," Leon casually said, grabbing the stool by the cell as he sat down.

"You’re in cahoots with those barbarians—?!" Darius spat.

"I wouldn’t say that, but I do know they’re still out there, and I’m the only reason they wouldn’t come back here," Leon clarified, staring down the imprisoned nobleman.

"This is unacceptable..." Darius harshly whispered.

As he sat there listening to the man of nearly limitless wealth pout like a child, it struck a nerve. Perhaps it was the flash into Elias’ life he has seen, but it truly annoyed him.

He reached between the bars, grabbing the collar of the nobleman’s shirt as he pulled him against the steel.

"Hey...!" Darius winced.

"What is it with you people?! Even with half, you have more than you could ever spend! Can’t you wrap your head around that?!" He spewed out his distaste harshly, squeezing the fabric in his hand.

Darius scowled as if what was suggested was an insult to his very existence, "The wealth of the Hauls...It is our right—our treasure that we’ve cultivated for generations...!"

"It’s been cultivated by the hard work of the "commoners" you seem to hold no respect for. Built off their backs, their labor—don’t you think they deserve a cut?" Leon reasoned, leaving no room for debate.

As out of touch as Darius Haul seemed, even the prideful lord seemed to recognize his position—thinly, fermenting in his own filthy, and bound.

Darius spoke through his teeth like a pouting child, "If those are your terms, then so be it. I see now that the Schoeller family has raised an ignorant child as their new head—"

"Careful now," Leon calmly suggested, staring down the malnourished man. "Nobody else even knows I’ve found you alive. You’re Schrodinger’s Cat right now, until I walk out of this room—with or without you."

The nobleman seemed to have something to say, though held his words back, begrudgingly accepting, "A callous head, I see."

"Well, if that’s all settled, let’s get you out of here," Leon said, standing up from the stool.

"Did you find the key?—" Darius asked.

Without answering, the young man swept his hand, cleaving through the steel bars with wind. The display of magical prowess made Darius stumble back, falling onto his elbows.

"—Are you trying to eviscerate me?!" The nobleman shouted.

"If I was, you’d know."