Gunmage
Chapter 89: The Silent return

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: The Silent return

"You must be proud of yourself, running away for so long only to come right back where you started"

Isolde spat, her voice still unhurried but with an edge of annoyance and something else, was it relief?

Lugh didn’t respond. He kept silent as always, his gaze not even registering the two ladies seated opposite him.

On his right finger, a tarnished silver ring gleamed, dull but unmistakable.

"Answer me, Lugh"

Isolde continued, her tone firm.

"You ran halfway across the kingdom only to get yourself almost killed."

Then she leaned in, her voice dropping in intensity.

"What was all that for?"

Still no response.

The carriage continued on its way to the manor. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving only the organized stalls and streets lined with flickering gas lamps.

The soft clinking of distant street vendors and the hum of evening life filled the air.

Lugh turned his gaze outward, as if the scenery was more interesting than the conversation at hand.

Isolde frowned.

"Lugh, I’m still speaking to you."

No answer.

"Are you deaf?"

The question came from Selaphiel, her voice quiet but carrying a dormant intensity, like a volcano waiting to erupt.

She would not tolerate any disrespect toward their mother, especially from a person like him.

Lugh, however, still didn’t respond. To an onlooker, it would appear he couldn’t even hear them.

But they knew he could. He had responded to their summons when they found him under the Tree.

He had walked over without hesitation, and though they’d arranged for another, less comfortable carriage to take him—an unspoken reminder of his status—Isolde found herself unable to refuse him entry.

She couldn’t quite place why she allowed it. Perhaps it was his presence, his beauty, his eyes?

She didn’t know, and that uncertainty allowed him ride with them, under the justification that she needed to ask questions. Questions he now refused to answer.

Being snubbed, Selaphiel was about to explode in anger, but her mother stopped her. Her gaze remained fixed on the boy, whose eyes seemed to transcend time and space.

She remembered the contents of the letter from General Garrick.

Lugh has some issues, I can’t explain it well, you’ll see for yourself.

There was an addition, one he had made out of goodwill, one Isolde couldn’t quite understand at the time.

There’s something off about that child. I’d advise you not to agitate him and just give it time.

Even now, as they sat in silence, a strange sense of dread gnawed at her heart, one that made her extremely irritable.

She tried to shove it aside, forcing herself to remain composed by assuming a position of authority, but it lingered like a shadow.

She was sure her daughter felt the same way and was merely putting on a false front, which was the main reason why she stopped her.

Whatever the case, Lugh wouldn’t be escaping again. She would make sure of it.

There was nothing for her to be worried about.

...

In the southeastern reaches of Ophris, in the small town of Lindhollow, a heavily injured woman with flowing white hair staggered along. She was a Sylph, one of the few who had narrowly escaped the catastrophic events of Drakensmar.

She had recognized the danger the moment one of the whispered —Emrys—had consumed those strange pills.

Since realizing his power, she never expected to meet anyone capable of pushing him to such limits.

Not long after that, a wave of fire had consumed the entire region. She had only survived by diving into the Roch River.

Then the city itself collapsed. It had been absolutely dreadful.

Their enemies claimed they weren’t from Ophris. Then what organization did they belong to? The Veil?

Her mind flashed back to the weapons they had used. Enchanted blades, those of the highest caliber.

Why would such a force choose to interfere with them? Not only that, they were cooperating with Ophris.

Mercenaries? No. Common mercenary mages wouldn’t wield such legendary artifacts. Even if they did, they wouldn’t reveal them so easily.

It didn’t matter. She had to inform the higher-ups as soon as possible. They would know what to do.

...

"Welcome, Madame"

The maids greeted in unison as Isolde and her first daughter walked through the entrance.

Lugh wasn’t allowed to follow them.

He was secretly led through a backdoor entrance, where he was taken to a room on the ground floor.

The room was large but sparsely furnished. A multitude of books were scattered across the floor, some torn, others half-buried beneath tattered pages.

The wardrobe was left ajar, its contents mostly gone, and the bed, once carefully made, was now a tangle of sheets.

The entire place seemed to have been ransacked when he escaped a year ago, and no one had bothered to rearrange it.

There was an air of neglect, of things forgotten.

A shadow flickered past the window through the drawn curtains, a guard had just passed by.

Maximum security.

He would not be escaping anytime soon.

There was a knock at the door. Lugh walked over, but before he could do anything, it suddenly opened from the outside.

A maid who looked to be in her mid-twenties, stood holding a food tray. When she saw him standing there, she froze, entranced by his beauty.

But just then, a wave of fear washed over her, and she staggered back, almost spilling the contents of the tray.

She steadied herself, her arms trembling.

"Y-your food... sir."

Lugh didn’t respond. He simply took the tray from her, and the door was slammed shut. The lock echoed behind, sealing him inside.

He exhaled, then put the tray on a table. Slowly and methodically, he began to tidy up the books scattered around him.

Just as he was about to pick up a particularly damaged novel, there was a series of banging on the door, afterwhich it was violently thrown open.

"Is that him?"

Standing there were the daughters of the Von Heim family.