Death, Devotion, Dissonance - Chapter 234: INTERLUDE II: Alt Leland

“Has anyone never thought to do this? Really?” the distorted voice echoed in Alt’s ears. “You could just kill him like this, you know? It’s easy,” the distorted figure pulled out the knife from Alt’s chest and waved it around carelessly. “The consequences? The inevitable chaos? Sometimes, someone just needs to say ‘Fuck it’ and take the risk.” The distorted lines that made the figure’s face formed a smile.

Alt’s surroundings became void and the pain faded away…

Pricked by the wetness under his back, something in Alt’s mind demanded he wake up. He briefly glanced at one of the clocks hanging in his room and saw it was only an hour past dawn. It was too early to wake up. He barely got three hours of sleep.

Lately, the days he got to sleep at least six hours were dwindling rapidly. That number was alright for most, but for someone like Alt who was reaching his fifties, it was four hours less than the norm.

But as he tried to shut his eyes again and sleep, his senses were assaulted by the wetness of the blanket. He couldn’t smell it himself, but he was sure the room stank with the stench of his sweat.

Again, that nightmare.

Alt wasn’t sure if he should laugh at the fact that he can sleep through the nightmare without waking up now. When it all first started, he was sure to wake up screaming every other day because of it.

‘Never should’ve sought her out…’ he lamented.

A mortal like him should’ve stayed in his comfortable surroundings, played god to the mortals around him, and passed away when the time of his passing came. Not like he was now, fearing the moment of his death every waking hour and every sleepless night, because he couldn’t help but wonder how and when he would die.

Sighing, he consoled himself for not getting the sleep he deserved, and slowly removed himself from the bed.

“Clean my room,” he croaked to the Rune of Listening etched near his bed.

The door opened and a pair of maids walked inside. One went to the bed, while the other walked up to Alt and carefully removed his bedwear.

“Would you like your meal now?”

“Bring it to my bath.”

One maid walked away with the dirty cloths, while the other opened the door to Alt’s bathroom. She conjured a hot body of water and filled his bath.

Groaning, Alt slid into the water and rubbed at his temple. As the maid busied herself with cleaning his body, she spoke of Alt’s schedule for the day.

It was nothing complicated. Some important letters that needed to be read, and a councilor from Tower City that he needed to accompany.

“The king called for a meeting of Dukes and Marquises in the capital,” the maid added.

“Let Ban go in my stead. Tell him he can do what he wants,” Alt waved his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll inform him, then.”

Alt liked his maids. They were much more receptive and unreactive to his orders. His son, Ban, on the other hand, was too emotional and rigid. He also had no eye for the importance of things. For the lad, the king’s orders were absolute just because Seth was king and he, Ban, the son of a duke. He couldn’t see past empty titles. He couldn’t see exactly where true authority was.

No matter how obvious Alt tried to make seem for the lad, he still respected the king.

In reality, Alt could shit on the Arcwall’s bed and have him clean it up.

‘Egh,’ he sighed. ‘Should’ve shown him the whole truth. Should’ve shown him what the Leland family is truly all about. What the Dukedom of the East is going to become.’

But no. In his son’s eyes, Alt wanted to make present himself as a righteous, noble man. A proper man.

Not this… conniving, power-hungry old fool, who struggled with insomnia because saw the moment of his death.

The moment when he was stabbed in the chest in broad daylight, in the presence of every powerful persona in the kingdom, and not only that, to have the killer mock him before all. Gloating his kill, as if the consequences of killing the Alt Leland were nothing to lose sleep about.

Alt tried to find his killer. Put him to an end before he himself could be killed. That was the whole reason he spent so much wealth and effort to seek out the Twelve Jokes and learn about his death, wasn’t it? If it’s not a natural death, he’d do anything in his power to prevent it beforehand. And his power was vast.

But he had nothing to work with. The killer’s figure was a shadow, his face was a mess of lines, his voice was a mix of all. It could’ve literally been anyone.

But the weirdest part was, it was none of the people he would normally suspect. The king and the dukes, the generals and the marshals, the mage ministers and high mages… they were all there with him as he died. None could move against his killer. Even his most loyal allies could only stare in silence as the shadowy figure would casually approach Alt and stick a knife in his chest.

Who could do something like that if not the Empress herself?

Alt shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. And he needed to stop having these worthless thoughts anymore.

“Any other news?” Alt asked. “What of that woman Seth’s been meeting with? That Leanne?”

“Seems she’s only a bedmate. Our people investigated her, but they found nothing suspicious. She was invited to the palace, due to a paper she wrote. A set of new laws and regulations that would make the divorce process easier in the kingdom. The reasoning for the paper was most likely because she is trying to divorce her own husband.”

“Mm.”

“It wouldn’t be weird for her to end up in the king’s bed with such a mental state. As for the paper she wrote, its implementations are now in progress,” the maid finished. “Should we apprehend her for clarification?”

True, the story did seem plausible. One thing Alt learned was that most often, the simplest stories were the truths.

“Leave her be,” he waved.

The maid finished washing him, and the other brought his breakfast.

Alt got to eating.

“We have also heard from an informant in Ankelite city.”

“Heralt has a new employee under him, a student in Ankelite city’s Academy, a 10-year-old boy named Eviendra.”

Alt’s attention was drawn.

“A Child of the Empress? How have I not heard about this yet?”

If possible, Alt liked to pull those kinds of people to his own side early on. The Children were usually a worthy investment.

“He did not act like a Child at all.”

The maid explained Eviendra’s circumstances and past to him. About how he lived with his abusive father until the Awakening ceremony, and then revealing his talents as an Imagination Caster. Then she talked about his deeds and connections, and what he was doing nowadays.

Something about the story did not add up.

“Investigate him further.”