Chapter 75: Zirel Covan Nottrakon

Chapter 75: Zirel Covan Nottrakon

Time seemed to slow down as their gazes intersected.

As soon as Tom gazed into those cold, alabaster-white eyes, a wave of terror washed down his spine. It had been naive of him to think that he and Aleph would be able to surmount any challenge in the Nameless District simply because they were more powerful than the norm. No, he had failed to consider that there could be other monsters lurking in the forlorn district, possibly in hiding after finding themselves on the wrong side of Syrelore Kingdoms authorities much like Aleph had been.

His reaction was driven by instinct as his senses went haywire. He wasnt sure if teaming up with Aleph was enough to best the dungeoneer before him and even if they won, Tom wasnt certain if their victory would be an unscathed one.

There was only one option left to him.

[Active Shroud- Maya.]

He awoke with a blaring headache.

A groan escaped his lips as he forced himself to sit up, his right hand immediately reaching for his forehead, in an attempt to mollify the raging pain.

Where was he?

His gaze swept over the dingy room that he found himself in, a cheap cloth and wool bedroll the only thing shielding him from the cold, hard wooden floor beneath him.

A barely adorned wooden shack that he had no recollection of ever encountering, let alone residing in served as his accommodation.

Wait-

Who was he?

Aaah! He involuntarily cried out as overwhelming pain flooded his senses. There was an inkling of resistance mired within the torrential agony that voraciously consumed all in its wake, almost as if his personality, his very sense of being was being overwritten by another, far more imposing being.

Who am I? he asked again and this time, he received an answer.

If the Noble House of Nottrakon were considered the sovereign rulers of the Syrelore Kingdom, then he would happen to be the prince.

The Fourth Prince of the Syrelore Kingdom, Zirel Covan Nottrakon. Read latest chapters at nov(e)lbin.com Only

Zirel couldnt exactly tell when the subtle shift in mannerisms had begun to influence him, as he instinctively found himself straightening his back and roughly fixing his uncombed hair the best he could. Years spent in the Nottrakon family estate had taught him not to give others the opportunity to point flaws in his dressing sense or mannerisms, not his spiteful brothers, who hated him almost as much as he hated them back and certainly not the conniving maids, their loyalty sworn only to the King.

Covan Nottrakon I, the most powerful individual in the entire Syrelore Kingdom and the rightful King-Sovereign of its lands was a man that Zirei had seen only thrice in his life.

Quickly enough for him to become powerful enough to leave the country- to head to the one tower that stood above all.

To leave the meaningless, petty politics of this realm behind and compete amongst the true frontrunners of this world to achieve ascension.

Except things had ended up going drastically wrong.

Pain flooded his mind as he tried to recall further. A different type of pain than the one he had experienced earlier, a distinctly emotional pain.

He remembered arriving in the district. The wonderment he had felt at arriving in a place where no one knew or cared about his status. The vivid, unfettered display of character, of thoughts and emotions without zealously guarding them, without being afraid of judgment or of showing weakness had left him dazzled, breathless.

To think there was a whole district where people boldly spoke of their dreams and ambitions and then staked their lives on it, people who spoke with such candor as they invited him to join their party without concealing some ulterior motive for a brief moment, Zirel had forgotten about his worries and allowed himself to drop his guard as he adventured with the trio.

That had been a mistake.

He had only known them for three weeks each of his party members coming from humble beginnings, equipped with only common cards. Yet he had enjoyed their company more than the years spent in the ostentatiously decorated castle he had spent almost the entirety of his life in. They were weaker than him by a fair margin, but with him as the vanguard they rapidly cleared area after area in the Zelez dungeon.

After the third week, with the drops they had accumulated from the dungeoneering, his party was beginning to play more than just a supportive role.

But his older brother couldnt just leave him alone.

He didnt interfere personally, of course.

No, he had just dispatched three Elite Guards to find him and then disrupt whatever it was that he was up to.

They had been observing him from the shadows, as he played the role of a novice dungeoneer. As his guard was down, for the first time in years.

They couldnt touch him, let alone think of killing him. To do so was to forfeit his elder brothers chances at succession, not even counting that they would be signing their own death warrants.

But it seemed like his growth had alarmed them and by extension, alarmed his brother.

Scheming and devious as his elder brother was, Zirel didnt expect him to go that far.

He hadnt expected the Elite Guards to kill the members of his party all commoners in an ambush.

That was how his first ever dungeoneering party disbanded with every member except him, dead.