Chapter 67: Discovered
Suddenly, Clay says, "So all of you are here. Now, tell me, are you going to do what I want you to do? Who knows what you did to these beasts. It would disturb my sleep and relaxing moment, and that’s all."
His voice carried across the broken battlefield, rising past the shattered walls of the border town, piercing through the dimensional crack that still lingered in the sky like a wound that refused to close. The air itself seemed to listen. The remnants of dust floated slowly, as if even the wind did not dare to interrupt him.
On the other side of the crack, the gathered Warchiefs stood in silence for a moment. They looked at one another. Their expressions were not calm. They were not confident. There was hesitation in their eyes, and something deeper beneath it. Something that did not belong to beings who ruled entire tribes through strength alone.
Seeing that they were silent again, Clay smirked.
"What?"
He continued, "Are you all still playing dead? Isn’t it obvious after killing your Warchief of the Bersuka tribe—the crack was still there? So tell me... do you really think I’m stupid?"
Suddenly, they grew silent again.
Clay became angry, and his voice sharpened.
"Hey!"
Meanwhile, seeing that the new young Warchief of the Bersuka Tribe found out about them by baiting them, they resigned to the situation.
Finally, one of them stepped forward. His body was surrounded by faint sparks of electricity, his hair rising slightly as if constantly charged.
"We will not deny your strength," he said. "But what you are asking is impossible."
Another voice followed, this one heavier, deeper, like stones grinding against each other.
"Our younger generation is not enough to guard even one kingdom fully. What you are asking... to guard two... it cannot be done."
A third voice joined, flames flickering around his shoulders.
"Even if we gather all of them, even if we command them with everything we have, they will fall. They will be overwhelmed. This is not a matter of obedience. This is a matter of reality."
Their voices layered together, one after another, building a long explanation that did not end quickly.
They spoke of numbers, of distances, of the unpredictability of the beasts they themselves had stirred into madness.
They spoke of how their younger generation, though strong compared to ordinary warriors, were still in training, still incomplete, still prone to mistakes that could cost lives.
They spoke of how splitting their forces across multiple territories would weaken their effectiveness, how communication across continents was not instant, how reinforcement would not arrive in time when disaster struck.
They did not speak like arrogant rulers anymore. They spoke like men trying to survive.
"We can protect your bloodline," one of them finally said, voice steady despite everything. "Your family. Your lineage. Those directly tied to you. That is something we can guarantee. That is something we can commit to without doubt. But beyond that..."
He paused.
"We cannot promise anything more than this, like protecting a whole Kingdom or two."
The others nodded. Slowly. Firmly.
"That is all we can do."
Silence followed.
Clay stood there, one hand resting casually at his side, the other slightly raised as if he was still considering whether to point at them again. His expression did not change much, but his eyes narrowed just a little.
So that’s their limit.
He clicked his tongue softly.
"Then that’s all you can do?" he asked again, this time with a hint of boredom creeping into his voice.
The question lingered, heavier than before.
None of them answered immediately.
The crack above trembled slightly, as if the world itself was waiting for their reply.
Clay turned his head.
"What about you, Cy?"
He looked at Cerys.
She stood a step behind him, hands neatly folded, posture straight, eyes calm as always. Yet there was something different in the way she looked at him now. Something that had not been there before.
"Young master," she said softly, "please protect the Cerys Foreshaw Family too."
Clay blinked.
"Why?"
The question came out naturally, but the moment it left his mouth, something stirred in his mind.
Wait...
He stared at her.
There was a pause. Not long, but enough.
Cerys tilted her head slightly, as if she had expected the question.
"My family is working under madam Cerys and of course, I want them to be protected too," she said.
Her tone was calm, but she did not stop there. She continued, explaining in detail. She spoke of how her family operated in the shadows too, how they handled intelligence, how they managed networks that stretched across regions without drawing attention. She spoke of their loyalty, not just to her, but to the structure she maintained. She spoke of how their survival was tied to her existence, and how their destruction would not only weaken her but also remove a layer of protection that Clay himself could benefit from.
Her explanation was long. It was thorough. It was not something said lightly.
But Clay was no longer listening to the content alone.
She’s answering too precisely.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
It’s like she knew what I was going to ask.
Cerys trembled. He found out?
Clay noticed her trembling and he became even more shocked.
Cerya panicked inside, she decided to continue hoping to cover up her secret, her voice steady, never wavering.
"After assisting Madam Cerys," she added, "I was able to locate my family. She guided me. She introduced me to them. Since then, I have been... grateful."
Clay’s eyes widened a little.
"You..."
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Something clicked in his head.
Madam Cerys?
Wait a second...
His thoughts began to race, faster than before.
She said Madam Cerys helped her find her family...
But...
Isn’t she...
A strange feeling crept into his chest.
No way...
He glanced at her again, this time more carefully.
Her expression did not change. She remained composed, respectful, as if nothing unusual was happening at all.
But that was exactly what made it strange.
Clay slowly turned his gaze away, pretending to think about something else.
Inside his mind, however, he was already shouting.
System.
There was a brief pause.
Can my maid hear my thoughts?
The system responded almost instantly.
[No idea.]
Clay’s face twitched slightly.
No idea?
What kind of useless answer is that?
He resisted the urge to curse out loud.
This damn defective system...
He had already suspected it before, but now it felt even more unreliable. Missing functions. Incomplete answers. Strange conditions that made no sense.
This thing is really bugged.
He exhaled slowly.
But then...
He paused.
His thoughts stopped mid-flow.
Wait...
Something did not add up.
He replayed the last few moments in his head.
He had asked the system a question.
Clearly.
Directly.
Without hiding it.
If Cerys could really hear his thoughts...
Then she should have reacted.
Even just a little.
A glance.
A change in expression.
Something.
But she did not.
She stood there exactly the same as before.
Calm. Quiet. Obedient.
As if nothing had happened.
Clay’s brows slowly furrowed.
Why didn’t she react when I talked to the system?