Chapter 500 – Anxiety Intensifies.

Roland knelt beside his brother as Robert leaned against the broken stationary suit. The older Arden’s face was drenched in sweat, his skin pale from the exertion and the rush of adrenaline that had yet to fully fade. The power armor he had used had suffered some damage but it was still operational, a testament to the genius of the craftsmen that took part in its assembly.

“J-just give me a moment… I’m fine.”

Robert panted, refusing to take Roland’s hand when it was offered. The two remained silent for a moment, both still trying to process what had just happened. Neither had expected their father to appear, and now they were each trying to make sense of it. Robert’s thoughts leaned in a more positive direction, but Roland felt far more suspicious.

Roland’s mind swirled with questions about his father. They hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, and Roland had hoped never to see him again. The glance his father gave him sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of the deep mistrust he harbored. While this body belonged to Roland Arden, the soul inhabiting it was someone else’s. His recent dealings with the spiritualist had revealed that there were ways to expose his true identity, which could provoke any number of reactions from Wentworth Arden.

Though Roland had made adjustments to his runic equipment to help mask his soul from being examined again, he wasn’t confident it would hold up against powerful Tier 4 class-holders like that spiritualist witch. Even if his true identity remained hidden, he still didn’t know what his standing in the Arden estate would be. His father might have the power to pull him back and disrupt the life he had grown accustomed to. His secret wasn’t exposed yet, but Roland wasn’t sure how long he could keep it that way.

‘He did glance in my direction for a moment… Does he know? or was it about something else?’

Roland’s mind raced as he tried to decipher both his father’s motives and the extent of his power. The spear his father had thrown was his only clue – it pierced through the magical barrier as easily as an arrow through paper and suggested he was at least on par with the Grand Knight Commander. However, his Marshal status hinted that he could be even stronger, possibly a Tier 4 class holder.

Roland considered trying to read his father’s status, but with so many people around, he feared it might draw unwanted attention. The numerous mages in the vicinity could easily detect his attempt, and given that his father had already managed to conceal his troops from his golems’ sensors, it was likely Roland wouldn’t be able to read his status anyway.

‘They might use it as an excuse to detain me and go through my status. I shouldn’t assume that he knows who I am just yet.’

Lucienne had written letters to her parents and revealed his involvement in the Viola case. To the Arden’s he was still known as Professor Wayland from Xandar’s Institute of Wizardry and he wanted to keep it like that. Francine knew nothing of his true identity and his siblings would not reveal anything either. Now that the duel was over, his job had been done and he could just retreat back to the Institute and also go home. His work here was done and returning to Albrook should be his only concern now. Thus, it was best to take care of the surface level problems now and help his brother to get back to his mother.

“You shouldn’t let your mother and sister worry, Sir. Robert, take my hand and drink this potion, it will restore your stamina.”

Roland helped his brother up, despite Robert’s initial refusal. His mother Francine was shouting in the background while being unable to climb down into the arena. Roland handed his brother a small vial, a stamina-restoring potion, glowing faintly with a light orange hue. Robert hesitated for a moment, his pride wrestling with his exhaustion, but in the end, he took the vial and drank it in one gulp. His breath began to steady, and color returned to his face as the potion’s effects took hold.

“Thank you, Master Wayland”

Robert muttered, finally accepting Roland’s outstretched hand as he stood.

“You’ll need your strength.”

Roland said quietly, keeping his gaze steady as his brother dusted himself off.

“Your mother’s waiting.”

Robert’s gaze shifted to where Francine was now arguing heatedly with one of Count Graham’s knights, her face red with frustration. The knights from their father’s contingent loomed nearby, clearly uneasy but unwilling to escalate things without direct orders. Meanwhile, Lucienne stood a few meters away from their mother, her expression unreadable as she observed the tense situation.

“She’s not going to stop until she sees that her son is alive and well, go to her.”

“I know, thank you again…”

As Robert finally steadied himself, he gave Roland a faint smile, one that carried both gratitude and exhaustion. He looked toward his mother and sister, knowing that this ordeal was far from over. He was not truly safe yet and the woman he loved was still out of his reach. With a nod, he began to make his way across the arena, his steps still somewhat unsteady but his resolve firm.

Roland watched him go, feeling some relief. He had done what he came here to do – protected his brother and ensured the duel’s outcome was in their favor. Yet, the undercurrents swirling around him were impossible to ignore. Wentworth’s unexpected arrival had thrown everything into uncertainty.

As Robert approached his mother, Francine’s anger melted away, replaced by clear concern. She rushed toward the edge of the arena in an attempt to see him but had to wait for Robert to jump up. Now that he had recovered and his legs weren’t all wobbly from the tension, he easily made his way there. His clothes surprised the onlookers as he was wearing a skintight suit made out of silvergrace metal, just like Roland did under his own armor.

“Robert… A-are you really fine? W-we need to get a priest!”

“Mother, I’m fine, just tired…”

Roland remained in the shadows, observing the family reunion from a distance. He knew that stepping closer would only raise unnecessary questions, especially from his stepmother, who had no idea of his true identity. The last thing he needed was to be drawn into their family drama when there were far larger issues at hand.

He could see them finally hug and embrace, Francine crying along with his sister Lucienne. The girls from the institute teared up behind them and all seemed well. However, for him not everything was over and his gaze shifted towards the power armor. Now that the duel was over, all eyes were on it. The rich merchants, nobles, and even the soldiers that arrived here were staring at the runic machine that produced a miracle.

‘It went better than expected but the operation time needs expanding, could fix that with a more modular battery pack or a recharge station of some kind, perhaps even a golem… but first, I should probably pack it up…’

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

His mind was buzzing with possible improvements but this was not the time to deliberate future endeavors. This suit of armor had become a symbol of power, innovation and, most importantly, a potential target. Roland understood that the moment the duel ended, the nobles and merchants would begin to consider the military applications of such a device. Eyes filled with both curiosity and greed fixated on the armor. If he didn’t move quickly, questions would be asked, and offers would be made that could lead to unwanted entanglements.

‘They are really watching…’

Every step he took, every move he made and even every breath he took, people from the audience were watching him. Count Graham and his father were discussing the issue and probably trying to resolve it without a fight breaking out. Graham’s soldiers outnumbered the military unit his father brought along but they were all elites. Many tier 3 class holders were in the audience and many of them were wearing similarly styled silver mithril armor.