Chapter 40: From Wilds, They Come

Chapter 40: From Wilds, They Come

Chapter 40

From Wilds, They Come

Shaking his little general, Sylas hurriedly pulled up his pants, shuddering. It wasn't easy, needing to do business outside during the winter. He had to be fast, and do it often, as to do so in lesser increments. Shaking his head at his state of living, he walked back from behind the castle and toward the eastern wall. Increased numbers have been manning the wall for hours now, ever since late afternoon.

Just as Dyn said, it began to snow as soon as the night settled in. At first, it was sporadic, largely displaced by the cutting winds. However, as the time passed, the patches grew bulkier and heavier, indicating the onset of the blizzard that did eventually strikeclose to midnight. Standing on the wall, it was physically impossible to see anything. In fact, the only way people confirmed others were on the wall were the torches that they tucked on the inside as to not alert the enemies.

The truth was, at least from Sylas' point of view, that it was pointless to actually station forces on the wallarchers were extensively useless in this sort of weather, and they'd descend the wall anyway if it came to skirmishing. It would have been much smarter to simply station a few people to see who the inside source was, capture them, and then open the gates slowly and lure the enemies into the trap.

Sylas, however, didnt say anything; in fact, hed already planned on resetting the loop. Three days wasnt nearly enough to prepare, and rather than being on the defensive, hed much rather strike offensively. The only unfortunate part was that hed have to buy Dyn over on his side again, which might prove even harder if he invaded his home. Alas, he was confidentnot so much in his abilities as in Dyns social ineptness and naivety.

His plan was simply to see the number of the enemies and their overall skill level as to have a better chance of successfully defeating them in the next loop. Well, he wouldn't be the one defeating them. Even if his skills with a sword had grown exponentially, he wasn't at the point where he'd be confident facing someone in a life-or-death duel out on the open battlefield. He did, however, need to start gaining some experience. Simply tossing strikes in a controlled environment would never make a fighter, even he knew that much.

They should be approaching any moment now, Dyn spoke out suddenly. Even though the young man was standing two feet to Sylas side, not only could Sylas barely see him, the boy had to even shout to be heard. The blizzard of this magnitudeor, really, any magnitudewas something Sylas had never experienced. It was unique, to say the least. The gates should be opened by now!

They will be, Sylas shouted back. You just relax and do your thing. Just as Sylas voice trailed off, a low-humming thud could be heard even through the raging blizzardit was the creaking sound of the gates being flung open. Sylas hurried backward and descended the wall, figuring it was best if he knew who the insider source was.

When he arrived, he saw two peoplea man and a womanstanding on each side of the gate. They wore numerous layers of clothing, making it impossible to recognize them. As soon as the gates were opened, the two hurried away and toward the castle. Sylas followed right behind, somewhat surprised that it was two. It didn't matter, however. After confirming who they were, he'd come back outside and look at the general state of things, calculating the enemy's overall strength.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

"Heh, petty mind tricks," Dyn scoffed. "Once I'm done with you, I'll kill everyone else of note hereeven that dear Exorcist of yours. Then, I will have a castle for my men for the winterthe world will finally know of us and regret ever treating us the way they did." Jesus, he's really been wanting to espouse his genius to someone fuck, is this why every movie depicts bad guys who love their monologues? Stop, Dyn! Stop embodying stereotypes! It's lame! Nonetheless, Sylas remained silent. After all, why close the lips of a man who is revealing his entire plan to you? Do you know what they call us? The Beastals! They see us living in the woods, and they call us beasts! Not anymore. They will learn that these beasts can bite back. By now, Sylas was growing kind of bored and so a yawn barely escaped his lips. Nonetheless, that yawn seemed to fan Dyns fires even further.

What?! You think our pain is boring?! You think our lives are worthless?!! You, who sit in your ivory towers, judging the rest of us as though we are animals! I spit on you! I spit on you all! Just because you were born in the right family doesnt make you better than the rest of us! I will teach the Kingdom that lesson or I will burn doing so!

"Ah, a revolutionary, how original," Sylas scoffed, sighing yet again. "No, wait, I suppose in this world it might even be original. Since I kind of like you, and since you'll forget it anyway, let me share a key piece of advice with you: revolutionary heads almost always end up martyrs for their cause and someone else ends up yielding all the profits of that sacrifice. Now, this benefits greatly those poets who like writing songs about the individuals, but less so the headless corpses of men who fought for what they believed in, only to die before seeing it realized. Now, please, for the love of God, kill me."

Kill yourself, Dyn suddenly tossed over a dagger at Sylas feet, his eyes full of mockery. If you are so brave. Sylas glanced between the dagger and the young man dumbly, a strange look in his eyes. What? You dont dare?

Sylas bent over and picked up the dagger, inspecting it for a moment before shoving it through his neck, a wide smile on his face. He ensured to distort his expression as much as possible as to invoke just as much horror in Dyn, even if the young man would forget it all. For just that one moment, Sylas figured, it would be a fine joke.

W-what?!! Y-you, you you the last you trailed off into nothingness as Sylas lost his consciousness.

You have died.

Save point Ignorant Awakening has been initialized.

Sylas opened his eyes with a sigh, finding himself back in the forest, just after Ryne, Tenner, and Valen promised they would remember. The trio quickly descended into the same conversation about the plans for the castles future, largely ignoring Sylas who remained seated on the side.

His shoulders felt heavy, all of a sudden. After all, it takes a lot of very awful things to create a man like Dynsomeone so driven by madness, by the intrinsic need for revenge that they would ravage the world to obtain it. Whatever the young man's story was, that scar on the face was likely the outcome. Sylas could postulateafter all, there are only so many stories that could result in such an outcome, but it didn't matter. The sad fact of reality was that Sylas couldn't change him. No amount of the clever word-play and tongue-in-cheek references could undo the wounds on that boy's heart.

What weighed on Sylas shoulder was that Dyn would have to die. Though certainly not by his handlargely because Sylas still couldnt fathom the thought of actually killing another personthe boy would still have to die. And that raging spirit whose fire probably wont be extinguished even in death would continue to burn in anger and pain for all eternity.

That was why there was the separation between the intent and the manDyn wasnt necessarily evil, but his intentions were. As such, ethics emerge in situations like those; is it worth preserving life that isnt intrinsically evil, or should the intentions supersede all else? Rarely, if ever, did that question have a clear black-and-white answe