Chapter 84: It’s complicated
Vince let out a low, hard laugh that echoed softly across the quiet balcony.
"Yates Harlan, huh?"
Vince murmured, taking a slow breath as he let the weight of the name settle into his mind.
"Guess that makes me Vince Harlan."
Silence hung between the two men for a moment as Vince processed everything he had just heard. Then, with a subtle twitch of his fingers, a spatial rift opened beside his coat pocket. He pulled out a worn, leather-bound document—a file on magicless anomalies he had taken from Duke Owen’s mansion—and handed it over to the village Chief.
"This contains detailed records of magicless individuals across various human territories over the last century,"
Vince said, his voice turning analytical.
"Myself included."
Chief Ignar took the file, his thick, clawed fingers carefully turning the parchment pages as his slitted eyes scanned the handwritten ink.
"Hmm..."
"Now, here’s what doesn’t add up,"
Vince continued, stepping closer to the balcony railing and staring out at the star-studded night sky.
"You said I was frozen inside Forever’s Keep for five decades. Add the five decades after that, where I assume my foster parents and the authorities were tracking anomalies... why is my existence documented in this book as if it were expected? Almost as if a select few knew I was coming."
Ignar closed the file with a soft snap and handed it back to Vince.
"That is a question only a human can answer... most likely the very one who compiled these records."
Vince slid the document back into his spatial storage, his dark eyes narrowing as he gazed into the distant horizon.
"I see. Guess Duke Owen and I have a lot to catch up on when I see him again."
Ignar turned toward Vince, a nostalgic smirk breaking across his weathered face.
"That being said... you truly look like your old man. Those purple eyes and pitch-black hair must run in the family."
Vince chuckled softly.
"I guess."
"You’ve heard enough of my rambling tonight,"
Ignar said, leaning back against the stone railing.
"Though I suppose there is plenty more to tell about Yates if you care to listen."
"I’m listening,"
Vince replied quietly.
"He possessed a rare kind of presence,"
Ignar recalled, his voice tinged with deep respect.
"He commanded total authority without ever needing to raise a blade or force his will upon others. He fought for justice, for the weak, and for a balanced world. But unlike Yates..."
Ignar’s eyes flicked over Vince with sharp perception.
"...you seem to possess a strange grasp over mana despite being magicless. You can play dumb if you like, young Harlan, but I am no fool. I can sense it pulsing beneath your skin."
Vince didn’t bother trying to deny it or make up an excuse. He simply shrugged faintly.
"It’s complicated."
"Let’s leave it at that, then,"
Ignar chuckled, gesturing toward the stairwell leading back to the grand hall below.
"The banquet needs its Chief. Come on."
"Give me a minute,"
Vince said softly.
"I’m right behind you."
Ignar nodded, turning on his heel and heavy-stepping his way back into the warm, noisy interior of the pavilion.
Left alone on the balcony, Vince stood still, feeling the cool night air brush against his face. He looked down at his own hands, opening and closing his fist.
"It’s kind of hard getting emotional over someone you never even knew..."
Vince muttered quietly to himself, staring up at the endless sea of stars above Mount Ignis.
His lips slowly curled into a cold, wicked grin.
"If you’re up there watching... or wherever you are... I initially had plans to make humanity suffer for everything they put me through,"
Vince whispered, his purple eyes gleaming with quiet ambition.
"But now... I guess it’s my birthright to stand above them all."
Before his thoughts could drift any deeper into vengeance, a pair of warm, soft arms gently wrapped around his waist from behind. Vince’s sharp expression softened instantly.
"I saw the Chief leave, but you weren’t with him,"
Lyrielle murmured, resting her cheek gently against his dark-navy coat.
"So I thought I’d come get you myself."
"I was just on my way out, Elle,"
Vince said, his tone turning warm and gentle.
Lyrielle flushed slightly at the pet name, her heart beating a little faster.
Vince turned around in her arms, taking her by the waist and pulling her close into a firm, protective embrace.
Lyrielle’s breath caught in her throat. Her face flushed a deep crimson as her body pressed tightly against his fitted vest.
The sudden closeness—feeling his broad, firm chest against hers through the silk of her emerald dress—instantly brought back vivid, racing flashes of the intimate night they had shared beneath the forest canopy. She squeezed her eyes shut for a split second, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs, fully expecting him to lean down for a deep, fiery kiss.
Instead, Vince simply held her tightly for a long moment, finding a sense of quiet peace in her presence. Satisfied, he gently released his hold and held out his hand toward her with a calm smile.
"Let me hold your hand on the way back,"
He said casually, completely oblivious to the romantic whirlwind he had just unleashed inside her head.
Lyrielle stood frozen on the balcony for a full five seconds, her cheeks burning like hot embers. She puffed her cheeks out in an annoyed, deeply flustered huff, staring at his outstretched hand before finally snatching it into her own.
"You’re unbelievable..."
She muttered under her breath, her face red as a beet as they walked back inside together.
The grand hall below was in full swing. Dragonkin warriors were singing boisterous drinking songs, clinking massive iron mugs, and dancing around central fire pits. At the far table, Vetra was currently standing on top of a bench, cheering victoriously over three passed-out guards who had failed to keep up with her ember ale intake.
Lyrielle squeezed Vince’s hand tightly, her cheeks still carrying a adorable pink tint as she looked around the noisy, chaotic room.
"Hey, Vince..."
She murmured softly, her cheeks slightly puffed.
"Do you... want to just head back to the inn?"
Vince looked down at her flustered expression, a faint, amused smile touching his lips.
"Yeah. Let’s get out of here."