Arc#3 Chapter 53: The Mercer Manor (Patreon)

"Hey, wake up." Reivan poked Helen's cheek as she lay atop Zouros' body, cradled by its wings.

"Mmrhm..." Helen murmured incomprehensible things with a frown, pushing his hand away. Even after multiple prods, she still wouldn't wake up.

'She sleeps like a dead person, I swear to the Sun God...'

Reivan shrugged and then looked toward Zouros. "Nothing to it. Just let her down easy."

The winged serpent nodded and hissed before setting Helen down on a bed inside one of the palace guest rooms.

Despite being perfectly clean and orderly, this particular guest room already had vestiges of personalization by way of a few clothes inside the wardrobe, spare training gear propped against the walls, and an assortment of trinkets and baubles.

Basically, it was a "guest room" reserved for Helen — who visited very frequently, to the point that a few people actually had the misconception that she lived in the palace. His family had recently started debating on whether to make it her actual room in the palace, but opinions seemed to be mixed at the moment, so they held off on it.

Reivan grinned as he watched the little genius shift to a more comfortable position on the bed, falling into a deeper sleep. He tucked her in a bit more securely, arranged the pillows to act as a barricade to stop her from rolling off, then put footstools around the bed in case she rolled off of it anyway.

Satisfied, Reivan made his way out of the room with Zouros disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Just outside the room was a cloaked man with his hood covering most of his face. He stood as straight as a sword and performed a knightly salute once Reivan stepped out of the room.

Naturally, the suspiciously dressed person wasn't some intruder.

"Hello, sir." Reivan smiled at the Mercer family knight tasked with secretly watching over Helen. "I'll have to ask you to escort her back home when she wakes up in maybe an hour."

"But of course, Your Highness."

"Don't let her find out though, since she still thinks she's going around all alone."

"Understood."

Reivan turned around and left down the hallway, giving the knight one last friendly wave as he turned a corner.

Once he was far enough away, Reivan called out to his shadow. "You there, Valter?"

"Yes, Your Highness." a familiar voice answered.

"Great. I'd like to head over to the House Mercer's manor for a bit. I'm gonna drop off a present for Hector. My best buddy just won first place in a talent show, so what kind of friend would I be if I don't celebrate with him?"

Valter chuckled. "I suppose so. I hope he likes your gift."

"He better like it. I spent so much money on this!"

"What about Miss Helen? We can take her with us..."

"It's fine. She'll probably end up staying over anyway. Last time we took her back while she slept, she got pretty annoyed."

"Oh, did she?"

"Yep. I saw it in her eyes. Anyway, let's leave her here and go!"

With a wide grin on his face, a black puddle of sludge suddenly erupted from the floor to swallow him whole.

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"Hello, I'm the second prince. Here to visit Hector." Reivan waved at the guards stationed on either side of the gate to House Mercer's manor. "I would appreciate it if you let me in."

The guards' shock was all but apparent when a teenage boy suddenly appeared out of nowhere, but they all regained their senses once they gazed upon Reivan's very distinguishable features — particularly, his hair and eyes. Most likely, the aura of a royal armament also helped validate his identity.

"Your Highness! Of course! House Mercer welcomes you!"

"Thank you, sir." Reivan nodded to them before he casually walked through the opened gates. The immaculately clean and tidy path to the massive manor was the same as the last time he saw it, though a few of the knightly statues placed on either side of the path had a slightly brighter sheen to it, signifying that he'd arrived just after they'd been cleaned for the umpteenth time this week.

'They must be new or something. Never seen their faces before...'

He'd frequented the manor enough to know maybe ninety percent of the knights who always got stuck with guard duty. The fact they didn't open the gates immediately made things apparent to him.

'Must be cuz all the veterans are at Fort Alexander with the Duchess, huh? I guess the Empire's really flexing some muscle. Well, anyway...'

Reivan turned toward the first servant he saw upon entering the Manor proper. "Good afternoon ma'am. Can you tell me where I might find Hector?"

Unlike the newby guards, the servants were all familiar with him from all the times he'd visited. After telling him his friend's location, they all left him to his own devices since he didn't like being tailed by a long line of people.

"The Hekarias Garden, huh..." Reivan crossed his arms and rubbed his chin, thinking about the garden named after the founder of House Mercer.

'I've heard about it and know where it is, but I've never been there before... I wonder what he's doing up there?'

Reivan couldn't think of a viable explanation, so he shrugged and made his way deeper into the large manor.

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The Hekarias Garden was a rooftop garden placed in the middle of the entire manor. There were four entrances, one on each of the towers placed in the ordinal directions; northwest, northeast, southeast, and southwest. The garden itself was closed off on all sides by thick walls, forming a square with the towers at its corners.

Reivan thought of an apt description for it within seconds though — it was like a massive fighting pit.

Despite being called a garden, the greenery was sparse aside from the grass and a few trees dotting the garden's rims. There were no flowers, fruits, or artistically trimmed hedges — only a bunch of knight statues forming a square in the middle of the garden.

For all intents and purposes, it simply looked like someone's backyard, complete with a medieval fantasy version of a garden gnome.

'I suppose a "roof-yard" is a better term for this place.'

With the ducal house of Mercer's militant nature in mind, it didn't take long for Reivan to surmise that this "garden" was mainly used as a training ground of sorts.

Even from afar, Reivan could already hear the liveliness of battle. The dull sounds of wood against wood, wood against flesh, and wood against bone filled his ears as he made his way to the edge of the elevated "viewing platforms".

Naturally, the one training below was Hector.

'Oof. He looks like he got the shit beaten out of him...'

Reivan leaned against the fancy marble railings, doing his best to stay quiet as he observed Hector repeatedly attempt to strike a mature woman who looked as if she was an older version of Stella.

The woman's silky black hair was neatly braided and pinned in a bun at the back of her head, revealing her fair and youthful complexion. Her black knightly attire fit her lithe body perfectly, neither too tight nor too loose. If it wasn't for the stern expression that seemed to have been permanently etched on her face, she would have been the perfect example of a cool beauty.

'Oh, shit. She was back in the capital...!?'

Reivan couldn't care less about her appearance though. Instantly recognizing her as Duchess Sarina Mercer, Reivan's lips pursed on their own, reinforcing his ability to stay silent.

'I don't think anyone ever mentioned that the duchess trained Hector — or anyone, for that matter...'

Even before she went off to reinforce the border with Argonia, the Duchess was known for being busy with important endeavors outside of macromanaging House Mercer — including scouting out the eastern sea and attempting to become the Kingdom's second Transcendent.

Nonetheless, it was a very good thing for his friend that the matriarch of their household was taking an interest in him. As such, Reivan asked Valter to help him conceal his presence and resolved to watch them for now.

'Now, I gotta see this. Maybe I'll learn something even though I don't have the wind affinity...'

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"Hah!" Hector yelled as he lunged forward with his spear, aiming for the woman's throat — only to smoothly shift his spear midway and aim for her heart instead. The speartip soundlessly pierced through the air to skewer the woman like Helen's favorite street food.

It was an impressive feint for one so young, but the woman did not fall for it as she deflected the youth's spear with a glaive and struck him in the stomach with its butt.

Even though the matriarch obviously held back a lot, Hector's vision still blurred from the pain. Before he noticed, he was down on all fours with a pair of lungs desperately crying out for air and tears of pain gushing out of his eyes.

"Your attacks are too telegraphed." The matriarch commented, her glaive pointed to the ground as she stood before him with calm and stillness. "Lessen the wind-ups. Don't put too much weight into your strikes, lest you hinder your own mobility. Use the wind to compensate."

"U-understood."

"Get up. Now."

"Y-yes... Matriarch..." Hector squeezed out a response and struggled to get up, wiping off the drool on his lips with his sleeve. He got into position and tried again, utilizing the aetherblade art he'd been practicing for the past week.

But no matter what he did, none of it ever satisfied the duchess.

Ten attempts later and Hector lay collapsed on the ground, his breathing rough. His mana pool was nowhere near as depleted as his stamina reserves, but getting thrown around understandably sapped him of his mental strength as well. Despite his fatigue though, he didn't dare stay in such an unsightly position in front of the family head for too long — so he at least tried to sit up in a cross-legged position.

"I suppose that's it." The duchess sighed as she sprinkled something on Hector, instantly healing his injuries. She then turned around, her face solemn. "Get some rest."

"W-wai—!" Hector couldn't even say anything, his throat too dry to utter words. "I can still...!"

"Still what?" Her words cut him off sharply. "Do not push yourself too much. You are not your sister."

"But—"

"I said that's enough, Hector Mercer." She threw him a glance, shutting him up once and for all. "This is your current limit. These things take time. If you're lucky, you will grow up to be someone of use to His Highness — to this kingdom. But that's in the future."

Hector gritted his teeth in frustration, but he dared not speak out, merely nodding in compliance.

After taking one last look at him, the duchess departed without another word, but Hector heard her unspoken thoughts loud and clear.

"Is this the extent of your capabilities?"

"Know your place and accept your limitations."

"You're nothing like your sister."

"Despite your proximity to the second prince, you remain bereft of his brilliance."

"Will you be of any use to the prince — to us — at all?"

Hector's fingers dug into the grass, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Countless whispers filled his mind, telling him how he wasn't enough.

How he would never be enough.

'What... must I do...?'

It wasn't as though he hadn't given his all.

He trained more than the other kids in the household, immersed himself in studies even though he hated it so much, and embraced new skills without hesitation. All for the sake of becoming someone worthy of everyone's acceptance.

The calluses and blisters in his body, the tattered books in his trunk, and the various other tools and manuals laying around in his room — all of them were proof that he wasn't just slacking around.

Sure he went out with his friends on occasion, but was that really such a bad thing? Reivan and Helen goofed off just as much, if not more than he did.

'So why...'

Why was he being left behind? Why could he not live up to the expectations of those around him?

A myriad of questions tormented him, gnawing at his very soul. But all he could do right now was wallow in self-hatred as he contemplated his own worth.

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'I don't think I was supposed to see this...'

Reivan's brows furrowed as he looked down at his best friend, staring blankly at the grass after the duchess vanished.

"Welcome to our humble abode, Your Highness." Sarina Mercer spoke from behind Reivan, causing his shoulders to jump. She took a knee and lowered her head. "Forgive me for not paying my respects sooner, I didn't notice you until just now."

"Please, Your Grace. You don't need to do this." Reivan helped her up with a crooked grin. The Duchess was always like this — she was the only one to forgo the Aizenian salute in favor of kneeling and bowing.

This greatly troubled Reivan, since he felt itchy all over his body to have such an important person being so... subservient to him, much more than any ordinary knight was. Sarina Mercer's loyalty was a well-known fact already, but he still couldn't get used to its intensity and avoided her when fortune allowed.

Acquiescing to his request, the Duchess straightened up and spoke calmly. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"It's not something to be grateful for..." Reivan smiled wryly, seeking a change of subject. "By the way, I did not hear of your return to the capital. I'm assuming the border with the empire is fine...?"

Aizen had three main "forts" with hundreds of knights stationed in them at all times, and one of them was overseen by House Mercer — particularly, the one at the middle of the mountain range that walled off Aizen from the rest of Sentorale, Fort Alexander.

'They call it a fort but...'

If one were to get into semantics, a fort was merely a relatively small fortified structure in medieval times that could hold a few hundred men or so. Strongholds, on the other hand, were much better and larger, with castles being the undisputed best.

This made the ignorant envision something unimpressive when they heard of "The Three Forts of Aizen Kingdom", but they could not be more wrong. The only reason the forts were still called forts, was purely because the crown wished to preserve the historical names of these ancient fortifications — especially since they were named by the first king of Aizen himself.

In truth, the three forts of Aizen had grown to the size of a small city, able to house tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of people if they didn't mind being squeezed together like sardines. Even if Aizen pooled together all of its knights, they could all comfortably live in just one of the three fortresses.

Most of its inhabitants were in charge of logistics, doing everything to make sure that the knights could fight at their best and not have to worry about food or clean underwear.

Fort Alexander stood valiantly in the middle of the Wolf's Jaw mountain range, and was charged with guarding the land routes to Aizen. Then Fort Magellan and Fort Sparrow was there to safeguard the sea routes to the east and west.

Reivan instantly knew that his ancestor had named the forts after a famous conqueror and two great sailors — although one of them was fictional.

'She's supposed to be at Fort Alexander since the empire's been more aggressive lately...'

There was an unspoken agreement between the three nations to not send out their Ascendants for light border skirmishes, but the recent aggression had made his father take preemptive measures to make sure they were ready for whatever Argonia had planned.

One of these measures was stationing the Duchess at Fort Alexander, where she could not only secure the land route, but also offer support to the other forts should the need arise.

Her presence here meant that there was a higher chance of a security breach.

Seemingly aware of his concerns, the Duchess bowed slightly. "Everything at the border is fine, just some minor conflicts that we have all won. I made a quick trip to handle some family matters that needed my attention. Of course, I have asked someone quite capable to take my place in the meantime."

"Family matters? You mean with Hector...?"

"One among many, but yes. I have also come to check if a certain foolish girl hasn't eaten through the manor's pantries. And if another foolish girl is living up to her duty to bear children for the royal family."

"I see..." Reivan nodded to himself before gazing into her dark eyes with a smile. "In any case, I hope you don't mind my presence here..."

"There is nowhere in the kingdom that the royal family's feet cannot tread on. Of course, Your Highness is always welcome here. But to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Ah, well, I wanted to give something to Hector before the day ended. I apologize if it's a bit too late in the afternoon..."

"There are naturally no problems." Sarina nodded, gesturing below, at the Hekarias garden where Hector was still staring into the dirt. "I will call—"

"No! It's fine," Reivan interjected in haste. "I prefer going to him. Thank you, Your Grace."

"I see. Then I shan't disturb you any longer, Your Highness."

"Uhm, no, you're not a disturbance at all..."

"It's fine. The presence of an old lady such as myself is unwelcome in a conversation between youths. Furthermore, I have a list of other things I must accomplish before returning to Fort Alexander posthaste. The person I asked cannot fill in for me indefinitely after all. Now, if you'll excuse me."

With one last bow, Sarina Mercer vanished, leaving only a slight breeze where she had just been.

Reivan threw a glance at his shadow with a slight frown on his face. "Valter..."

"Duchess Sarina is one of Aizen's most capable warriors, Your Highness. Furthermore, she is quite frankly the best scout in the order, able to track anything that breathes." The guardian knight offered an excuse before he could be blamed. "I could only hide you for so long. And at such close proximities, it was a given that she would discover you once she stopped focusing on your friend."

Reivan was dubious at first, but he had no choice but to accept the knight's words after not getting a notification that he'd been lied to.

'Hector...'

With the Duchess gone, Reivan's attention returned to his depressed friend. Wasting no time, he climbed over the railing and jumped down.

A fall from such a height wouldn't have meant much in his fully boosted state, but he didn't need to go so far since he could repeatedly summon small floating shields as platforms to break his fall over and over again until his feet were planted firmly on the grass.

Hector hadn't noticed him at all, so Reivan managed to walk right up to his friend and sit down on the grass beside him.

"Hey, ugly. What's wrong with your face?"

For now, he would do his best to cheer up his best friend.