Chapter 18 — The Aetherial Crest, 3
Sylan Kyle Von Noctis pressed himself against the cold stone wall of the upper hallway, his breath steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. The Noctis estate loomed around him, its shadowed corridors a maze of secrets and danger. Below, in the basement, the iron door to the forbidden archives mocked him, its runic seal only partially accepting his blood. The system's warning still glowed in his mind: [Blood sigil partially accepted. Additional authentication required. Success probability: 15%.] Eight days remained to claim the Aetherial Crest, the relic that could boost his stats and grant a skill to survive the looming threat of Elias Vaughn, the brooding swordsman of Love & Chains: Eternal Hearts. Sylan's current stats—[Strength: 16/100, Agility: 18/100, Endurance: 17/100]—were climbing, but they were no match for a male lead's power. He needed the Crest, and he needed it now.
'Additional authentication,' Sylan thought, his crimson eyes narrowing as he slipped through the hallway, his steps silent. The system's vague warning pointed to one thing: his parents, Amanda and Darius Von Noctis. Their blood, their authority, held the key to the archives. Getting it would be like stealing from a dragon's hoard—dangerous, but not impossible. Sylan was a soldier, not a noble; he'd faced worse odds than this.
The system panel materialized beside him, its glow faint in the dim corridor. [Objective update: Acquire blood sigil authentication from Amanda or Darius Von Noctis. Recommended approach: Manipulation or subterfuge. Direct confrontation inadvisable. Time remaining: Eight days.]
'Manipulation,' Sylan thought, his lips twitching into a grim smile. 'They don't know me—not the real me.' The original Sylan was a sneering, petulant boy, cowed by his parents' disapproval. But Sylan was different now, his soldier's mind sharp with strategy. He needed a plan to get close to Amanda or Darius, to secure their blood or their permission, without tipping his hand.
He moved toward the main hall, his mind racing through options. Amanda was the easier target—her cold ambition made her predictable. She cared about the Noctis name, about appearances. A public display of strength, like his contingency plan of challenging a lesser noble, could sway her, make her see him as an asset rather than a liability. Darius was harder—Sylan's memories painted him as a distant, unyielding figure, his authority absolute. Stealing from him would be riskier, but blood was blood. A single drop might be enough.
The hall opened before him, its marble floors gleaming under chandelier light. Servants bustled in the distance, their footsteps soft, their eyes averted. Sylan paused, scanning for Virelle Thren. She'd been his eyes and ears, her intel on the archives critical. He'd sent her to dig deeper, to uncover what "additional authentication" meant. If anyone could find a loophole, it was her—she knew the servants' gossip, the estate's undercurrents.
A soft shuffle caught his ear. Virelle emerged from a side passage, her gray dress blending with the shadows, her face pale but determined. She clutched another scrap of parchment, her fingers steady despite the risk of being caught. "My lord," she whispered, bowing low. "I found something."
Sylan gestured her closer, his voice low. "Speak."
She glanced around, then unfolded the parchment, her voice barely audible. "The runic seal—it's tied to the Noctis bloodline, but the servants say it needs the primary blood. Lord Darius or Lady Amanda's, not… not yours, my lord. There's a ritual, too—a phrase spoken while the blood is applied. No one knows it except them."
Sylan's jaw tightened. 'Primary blood. Of course.' The game loved its complications, its barriers to keep minor characters like him in their place. "Anything else?"
Virelle hesitated, her gray eyes flicking to his. "The guards mentioned a key, too. Lord Darius keeps it on him, always. Lady Amanda has one as well, but she locks it in her study when she's not using it."
'A key and a phrase,' Sylan thought, his mind spinning. The blood was the hardest part—Darius was untouchable, a fortress of a man, and Amanda was too sharp to deceive easily. But her study… that was a target. Less guarded than Darius's person, less risky than a direct confrontation. He could slip in, take the key, and use Virelle to stage another distraction—maybe a spilled tray in the dining hall, loud enough to pull Amanda away.
"Her study," Sylan said, his tone clipped. "Where is it?"
"West wing, second floor," Virelle said, her voice steadier now. "It's locked, but the servants have a spare for cleaning. I can get it, my lord, but… it's dangerous. If she catches us—"
"She won't," Sylan cut in, his crimson eyes burning with resolve. "You get the key. I'll handle the rest."
Virelle nodded, her expression torn between fear and loyalty. "Yes, my lord. When?"
"Tonight," he said. "After the evening meal. She'll be distracted then."
The system panel pulsed. [Plan viability: 35%. Risks: Detection by Amanda Von Noctis, guard intervention, incomplete ritual knowledge. Contingency recommended.]
'Thirty-five percent,' Sylan thought, his lips pressing into a thin line. Better than the archives' 15%, but still a gamble. His contingency was the same: a public challenge to a lesser noble, proving his worth to Amanda, forcing her to grant him access. But that was a last resort—it drew too much attention, risked exposing his plans to the game's other players, like Elias Vaughn, whose shadow loomed ever closer.
"Go," he told Virelle, his voice softening slightly. "Be careful. You're no good to be caught."
She bowed, slipping back into the shadows, her steps silent. Sylan turned toward the west wing, his mind mapping the estate's layout from memory. Amanda's study was a fortress of its own—locked, private, a reflection of her control. But Sylan was a soldier, trained to breach defenses, to find weaknesses. A spare key, a moment of distraction, and a drop of her blood—maybe from a letter seal or a quill prick—could get him what he needed.
The system updated: [Objective update: Acquire Amanda Von Noctis's key and blood sigil. Time remaining: Eight days. Warning: Elias Vaughn proximity increasing. Prepare for potential encounter.]
He moved toward the west wing, his steps purposeful, his crimson eyes glinting with determination. 'The Aetherial Crest is mine,' he thought. 'Let Amanda try to stop me.'