Chapter 471 – Better Limb.

“My Lord.”

“… Enter.”

A man wearing a butler uniform stepped into the opulent office of Theodore Valerian. The room was adorned with rich, dark wood paneling and deep, crimson drapes that framed tall, narrow windows. The air was thick with the scent of aged books and polished leather. Theodore sat behind a grand mahogany desk, cluttered with various documents and arcane artifacts. The butler slowly approached the desk with measured steps, carrying a silver tray with a lone letter on it.

“Reginald, did you bring the report?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

Reginald nodded respectfully and presented a sealed letter resting on the tray. The seal bore a dark crimson raven insignia. This seal was magical in nature and could only be opened when Theodore brought his ring, which had a matching bird, to it. Both magical artifacts began to flash, and the wax started to melt. Once the wax had dissolved, the noble quickly scanned through the letter, a frown adorning his face.

“Interesting…”

Theodore murmured, setting the letter down and tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. He looked up at Reginald, who stood waiting with the disciplined patience of a seasoned retainer.

“What is that bastard planning, he is starting to become a thorn in my side…”

The man continued to tap his finger while contemplating the matter at hand. His brother had begun growing in power recently but it was not to the point of him becoming a valid threat. In Theodore’s opinion, even Ivan was still a much bigger threat than an upstart bastard with one city. However, it was best to tackle issues before they had time to fester and rot. He knew this truth but could not act hasty as he was not just going against a singular opponent.

“Reginald, what do we know about this so-called Knight Commander Wayland?”

The butler bowed slightly, his expression revealing nothing but a calm efficiency.

“I must apologize but not much is known about this man. We have done extensive background checks on this individual but no one by this name seemed to have existed.”

“A fake name then?”

“That is what we can assume, My Lord.”

Theodore’s eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. A man with such expertise and unknown origins could become a threat, especially if he was aligned with one of his brothers.

“It’s possible that he is just a diversion… Could Julius be pulling the strings? or could he be someone else’s man…”

The tapping on the desk continued to intensify as the noble contemplated the issue. The idea that Arthur was capable of handling such a competent retainer was far-fetched. It was more likely that one of his three other brothers was trying to divert his focus from other matters. The man called Wayland was probably hired to quickly raise Albrook up and force him to relegate manpower there. If this was true, then attempting to bribe the man would be pointless. Either they would need to kill him or avoid partaking in this game his other brothers were trying to play.

“Knight Commander Wayland appears to be highly skilled in magical combat. His skills and classes are unknown but we can assume that it’s a profession involving runes and artifacts, something akin to a Rune Mage is most probable. However, we can’t discount him having a rare special class…”

Theodore leaned back and continued to listen to all the information about Knight Commander Wayland. He knew well about Rune Mages, and considering the increase in runic artifacts within Albrook, it made sense. However, they didn’t have enough information and the appearance of a strange magician in one of the border cities complicated things further.

“… Not enough.”

“My Lord?”

“There is just not enough information but we can’t keep ignoring this upstart… We will send the third raven unit, the first and second will continue with their tasks. I want to know what that brother of mine is doing and who is truly behind this.”

“My Lord, the third raven unit will be deployed immediately.”

Reginald acknowledged with a bow. He turned on his heel, departing swiftly to relay Theodore’s orders. The sound of the heavy wooden door closing behind him seemed to echo Theodore’s thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight that cast dancing shadows across the room. He couldn’t afford to underestimate any potential threats but he also couldn’t let something like this distract him. This was cleary a rouse created by one of his other brothers and he couldn’t let himself fall into their trap. He would do the bare minimum to contain this problem but still focus on his true opponents.

*****

Back in Albrook, Roland was putting the final touches on Bernir’s prosthetic arm. His workshop was buzzing with noise as there was a new addition to it. The finished prosthetic arm lay on a wooden workbench, gleaming under runic light hanging from the above ceiling. The arm had a silvery luster to it and the intricate runes were quite noticeable but focused mainly on the forearm portion.

“Is it getting hot in here, Boss?”

“Not really. Just relax and take a seat. We will start the procedure soon…”

Roland proclaimed and pointed to a large metallic chair with various straps. Bernir was visibly nervous but trusting in Roland’s expertise. He hesitated for a moment but the right before making up his mind, someone smacked him on the back.

“What are you dilly-dallying for young man, just get on the chair! Do you not trust in my genius!”

Bernir looked back to where the strike came from and spotted a shorter man with a long beard. It was Rastix the Alchemist, who had not been working here for long. He had been given access to the underground workshop to help with the procedure. It was this gnome who had created the concoction, and he constantly liked to remind everyone of it.

“Aye…”

After chuckling nervously, Bernir eventually moved over to the chair. He had previously used a different prosthesis, which had been held in place by an exterior harness. This procedure would fuse his flesh with a metallic frame that would securely hold the arm in place. The procedure had been tested on monsters, and he had been present during the initial round of testing. However, despite the promising data, it didn’t change the fact that this was uncharted territory for all of them. Bernir would be the first person to undergo it, and the lack of experience on their part was what made him nervous.

“Alright, Bernir, we are going to start soon, are you ready?”

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“Aye, let’s do it Boss.”

“Okay, drink the potion, and let’s do it.”

Once Bernir had drunk a vial and taken a seat, Roland started strapping his arm into a previously prepared frame. This part would cover the partial forearm stump completely. Bernir’s arm needed to be secured to a nearby bench next to the chair he was sitting on. The procedure was delicate, and any movement could disrupt the alignment of the prosthesis frame. Once he was secured to both the chair and the side bench, the process could then continue.

“Rastix.”

“I’m on it.”

The gnome alchemist wasn’t here just to watch; he had a role to play as well. Above the secured arm, a bucket-sized crucible was hanging, containing the alchemical concoction that needed just one last ingredient. During their research, they discovered that this reagent would lose most of its adhesive properties within a few hours of being made, and within the first few minutes, its effects were magnified. It was best to produce it directly during the operation for the best possible outcome.