Chapter 163: Chapter 163: Morbis’s Offer

​Morning crept in through the crevices of the castle walls. The violet glow outside began to wane, replaced by the pale grey sky of the Wailing Forest—a sky that never truly knew the meaning of brightness.

​Kancil had been awake since dawn. His eyes snapped open before the first light could settle. He sat up in bed, glancing to his side. Loy was still deep in sleep, lying on his side with one arm dangling outside the blanket. Riri was curled up in the corner, her small frame almost invisible beneath a mountain of fabric.

​Kancil slid out of bed, his feet landing silently on the floor. He walked over to Loy and gently shook his shoulder.

​”Loy. Wake up.”

​Loy blinked, his eyes heavy with lingering sleep. “Is it morning already?”

​”It is. Let’s train.”

​Loy stretched, stifling a groan as he felt the soreness in his limbs. But he didn’t protest. He climbed out of bed and went to the other side to wake Riri.

​Riri’s eyes flew open instantly. There was no lethargy in her; she sat up immediately, despite her frail and thin frame.

​”Let’s go,” she said, her voice filled with newfound determination.

​Kancil offered a faint smile. “Don’t overdo it, or you’ll burn yourself out.”

​”It’s fine. I want to be strong, just like you.”

​The three of them left the room, padding down the corridor toward the castle’s backyard.

​Kancil led the session. They started with laps around the yard. Loy was still stiff, his gait uneven because the wounds on his legs hadn’t fully closed, but he kept running. Riri followed close behind, her breath quickening, yet she refused to stop.

​After the run, Kancil taught them how to climb. The stone wall at the edge of the yard wasn’t too high—perfect for basic drills. Loy ascended slowly, his fingers searching for steady grips. Riri was more agile; her light body made it easy for her to scale the heights.

​”Riri, you’re suited for speed and agility,” Kancil observed from below. “Loy, you’ll be the one we rely on for power later.”

​Loy nodded, though he was gasping for air. Riri beamed with pride.

​Kancil also taught them the art of concealment—how to hide behind rocks, tuck into wall corners, and regulate their breathing so as not to be heard. Riri was a quick study. Loy was slower, but his effort was undeniable.

​After an hour, Kancil called for a halt.

​”Take a break. We’ll continue later.”

​They walked toward the back entrance of the castle. From a distance, Kancil saw Dayat standing inside The Heart of Logic—not on the balcony, but near the large glass window overlooking the yard.

​Dayat held a small cup in his hand. It contained coffee—not genuine Earth coffee, but local beans that Dola had discovered and processed herself. It was bitter, but pleasant. A bitterness that sharpened the mind.

​He took a slow sip, his eyes tracking the children’s movements in the yard. Sometimes he watched Kancil giving instructions, sometimes Loy’s stiff persistence, and sometimes Riri’s natural grace.

​Beside him, Dola was still asleep in the chair. Her body reclined comfortably, her white cape folded over her lap. Her silver hair was a mess. Occasionally, she would mumble incoherent words—fragments of a dream.

​Dayat smiled faintly and took another sip of his coffee.

​Before long, Lunethra entered from the west wing corridor. Her green dress fluttered softly as she approached and stood beside Dayat. She didn’t stand too close, yet she wasn’t far. Her gaze also fell upon the children in the yard.

​”They learn quickly,” Lunethra remarked.

​Dayat nodded. “Riri has a natural talent. Loy is slower, but he doesn’t know how to quit.”

​”Reminds me of someone I know.”

​Dayat turned. Lunethra was wearing a thin smile, her emerald eyes fixed on him.

​”I was slow once, too,” Lunethra said. “But I never stopped.”

​Dayat didn’t respond. He just took another sip of his coffee.

​Lunethra didn’t push. She simply stood by his side, soaking in the silence. It was a rare moment—Dola was asleep, the morning was quiet, and the two of them stood together.

​”Your coffee,” Lunethra finally said.

​Dayat smiled and nudged the cup toward her. “Want a taste?”

​Lunethra looked intrigued. “May I?”

​Dayat nodded casually.

​Without hesitation, Lunethra took the cup and took a small sip.

​”…cough—” She immediately suppressed a small cough, her expression contorting. “What is this? It’s so bitter!”

​Dayat burst into an spontaneous laugh.

​Lunethra hurried to hand the cup back. “Ugh, do you really drink this every day?”

​”It’s not so bad,” Dayat replied easily.

​Lunethra shook her head, still grimacing. “I will never understand your taste.”

​Dayat only smiled, accepting his cup back. They fell silent for a moment. Lunethra was still pouting slightly, while Dayat seemed to enjoy his coffee as much as ever.

​And somehow, through that trivial interaction, the atmosphere between them felt… closer.

​In the yard, Kancil noticed Dayat and Lunethra standing together at the window. He took a breath and called out to Loy and Riri.

​”Come on, let’s go inside.”

​The three children headed for the back door. Loy looked exhausted, but Riri trotted ahead. As soon as they entered The Heart of Logic, Kancil approached Dayat.

​”Brother Dayat.”

​Dayat turned. “Yes?”

​”We’ve finished our training.”

​”I saw. You make a good coach.”

​Kancil smiled, but his gaze drifted to Lunethra briefly before returning to Dayat. “Loy and Riri haven’t had breakfast yet.”

​Dayat nodded and looked at Lunethra. “Do we have ingredients?”

​”We do. I’ll do the cooking,” she said.

​”I’ll help,” Dayat offered.

​Lunethra shook her head. “No need. Keep them company.”

​Dayat didn’t insist. He walked over to Loy and Riri, who were standing by the door. Riri looked up at him with shining eyes.

​”Mister Dayat,” Riri called.

​”Yes?”

​”I saw Kancil running so fast earlier. I want to be like that too.”

​Dayat gave a soft chuckle. “In time. Just keep practicing.”

​”Can I really become like him?”

​”You definitely can.”

​Loy just smiled beside her. He didn’t say much, but his eyes were far calmer than they had been the day before.

​Lunethra headed for The Binary Kitchen. Soon, the sounds of cooking utensils echoed from behind the door. Kancil followed her in to help. Loy and Riri sat on the floor of The Heart of Logic, leaning against the wall. Riri still occasionally stole glances at Dayat.

​”Mister Dayat,” Riri called again.

​”Yes?”

​”Miss Lunethra… she’s very beautiful,” Riri said innocently.

​Dayat smiled. “Yes, she is indeed beautiful.”

​Loy nudged Riri gently. Riri just giggled. Dayat didn’t elaborate; he simply finished the last of his cooling coffee.

​Breakfast was over. Loy and Riri were full, as was Kancil.

​Dayat remained seated near Dola, who had yet to wake. Lunethra had gone to the Medical Ward to check on Dalgor.

​The door to the Medical Ward opened softly. Lunethra stepped inside. Dalgor was still lying on the iron bed, his chest rising and falling steadily. She took a damp cloth and wiped the sweat from his brow.

​”You’re lucky,” she whispered. “Your wounds are starting to dry. You’ll be awake soon.”

​Dalgor didn’t respond, but his breathing was rhythmic—unlike the ragged gasps of yesterday. Lunethra sat in the chair beside the bed, studying the old man’s face.

​”Dayat saved you. Don’t you forget that.”

​She didn’t know if he could hear, but she spoke the truth anyway.

​In The Heart of Logic, Dola stirred.

​Her eyes opened slowly, taking a moment to focus. She blinked a few times, then saw Dayat beside her. But she caught a familiar scent—the floral perfume unique to Elves still lingered in the air.

​Dola sat up immediately. “Was she here?”

​Dayat turned. “Who?”

​”Lunethra.”

​”Yes. A moment ago. She’s in the Medical Ward now.”

​Dola glared at Dayat. Her blue eyes glowed faintly, but there was a sharp edge to them. Jealousy.

​”Did she sit next to you?”

​Dayat smiled. “Yes. We talked for a bit.”

​”About what?”

​”Small talk. She asked for some coffee, I gave her some, she hated it.”

​Dola was silent for a moment. Then she moved. She stood up, walked around Dayat, and sat down on the other side—right between Dayat and the empty chair where Lunethra had been sitting.

​”This is better,” she declared.

​Dayat chuckled. “Don’t you trust me?”

​”I trust you. I don’t trust her.”

​”Come on, we were just talking. Besides, Lunethra is our friend…”

​Dola stared at him, her gaze piercing. “A friend who likes my husband.”

​Dayat didn’t argue. He simply shrugged. “I can’t control how people feel.”

​”You can. You can tell her ’don’t come near me’.”

​”That would make her sad.”

​Dola huffed. “And I’m sad when she’s near you.”

​Dayat sighed, reaching out to stroke her silver hair. “Did you sleep well?”

​Dola softened slightly, the intensity in her eyes fading. “Yes. I had a strange dream.”

​”What was it?”

​”I forgot.”

​Dayat smiled. “Rest is what matters.”

​Night fell.

​Inside the castle, everyone was asleep—Kancil, Loy, and Riri in their rooms, Lunethra in hers.

​Dola was in Dayat’s room. She woke up, her eyes snapping open in the darkness. She didn’t know why, but her body felt alert. Something was outside. She didn’t move; she just stared at the ceiling, listening.

​Dayat couldn’t sleep.

​He walked out to The Terrace of Equilibrium. In his hand was a cup of coffee—his second or third, he couldn’t remember. He stood at the balcony, staring into the forest.

​Mist swirled slowly between the black trees. The night air was biting. There were no wolf howls tonight. Only silence.

​Dayat took a sip of his coffee.

​Suddenly, the air shifted.

​It grew colder, heavier—as if a weight were pressing down from every direction. It wasn’t a physical pressure, but a mental one, an invisible hand squeezing his chest.

​Dayat tensed. His hand reflexively rose, and a manifestation pistol appeared in his grip.

​From behind the mist, a figure slowly emerged.

​It didn’t walk; it formed. The fog condensed, shaping a silhouette, then a solid form.

​Tall. Thin. A friendly smile was etched onto his face—but it was a smile that stung. His eyes didn’t blink. His body was translucent, like a shadow that had almost gained mass.

​”Good evening, Architect.”

​The voice was soft, nearly a whisper, yet it rang crystal clear.

​Dayat didn’t lower his gun. “Who are you?”

​The shadow’s smile widened. “Morbis. I am not here to fight.”

​The aura radiating from the translucent body felt familiar. It was similar to Malphas, yet different—heavier, more concentrated, more oppressive.

​Dayat remained silent, his gaze fixed on the entity.

​Morbis stood in the air, hovering a few inches off the ground. He was about two meters away from Dayat—not too close, but close enough to make the hair on Dayat’s arms stand up.

​”I come with good intentions,” Morbis said. His tone was polite, not condescending. But behind that politeness lay a terrifying confidence—the confidence of someone who didn’t need to threaten because their power spoke for itself.

​”Lord Wabil of Plague sent me. Not to fight, but to offer you something.”

​Dayat remained still, his finger on the trigger. Morbis continued, unfazed.

​”Cooperation. The Maiden of Steel—we know she is here.”

​He paused, savoring the silence.

​”Lord Wabil wishes for the Maiden to help open the gates of Nevareth Hollow completely. Let us into this world.”

​Dayat swallowed hard. He tried to think, but his head was spinning. This was moving too fast. The Brassvale forces were just becoming a threat, and now a new enemy had appeared—from a dimension he didn’t even fully comprehend.

​”What’s the catch?” Dayat finally spoke, his voice flat and devoid of fear. “If I refuse right now, what happens?”

​Morbis smiled. “Nothing happens. Not now. Lord Wabil is giving you time to think. He is in no rush.”

​Dayat let out a slow breath. He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no.

​”Fine. I’ll think about it.”

​Morbis nodded. “A wise decision, Architect.”

​His eyes remained focused on Dayat. Morbis couldn’t sense the Maiden’s aura inside the castle; all he could feel was Dayat’s aura, mingled with the Maiden’s energy. It was for this reason he assumed Dayat was the Maiden’s right hand.

​”Don’t take too long,” Morbis said. “Lord Wabil’s patience has its limits.”

​With that, his body began to fade. Slowly, like mist caught in the wind, his form became more transparent until it merged back into the fog. He was gone.

​Only darkness and mist remained.

​Dayat let out a long, heavy breath. He only just realized his palms were slick with sweat. He didn’t linger on the terrace. He turned and walked quickly back into the castle, heading straight for his room.

​He opened the door.

​Dola was sitting up in bed, her eyes wide. There was no sleepiness in her gaze—only sharp vigilance.

​”You felt it?” Dayat asked.

​Dola nodded. “I knew he came. That aura… I recognize it.”

​Dayat sat beside her, his body still taut with tension. He told her everything—Morbis, Wabil’s offer, the gates of Nevareth Hollow, and the implicit threat behind the polite words.

​Dola listened without interruption. When he finished, she took a quiet breath. “This world is filled with powerful beings, it seems.”

​Dola looked at him. “Are you afraid?”

​Dayat didn’t answer immediately. He fell silent for a moment. Dola then reached out and took his hand. Dayat let out a breath and squeezed back.

​Outside, the Wailing Forest remained dark. The mist swirled slowly. But tonight, they would not sleep soundly.

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