Chapter 900: Moaning Old Man
But he didn’t press. Some secrets, he understood, were not his to uncover.
"Well." Cassius said, clapping his hands together. "Shall we go introduce ourselves, Isabelle? It seems only proper to greet the man who runs this entire operation."
He turned to look for Isabelle—and stopped.
Isabelle was not beside him.
Isabelle was, in fact, currently surrounded by a small mob of excited employees who had apparently been waiting for the right moment to approach.
They crowded around her with the fervor of pilgrims at a shrine, their professional demeanors completely abandoned in the presence of celebrity.
"Is it true you’re going to become a Supreme Mage?!"
"What’s it like to tear apart demon wolves without even casting a spell?!"
"How do you keep your skin so flawless?! I’ve tried every cream on the market and nothing works!"
"Can I have your autograph?! Please?! My daughter would be so jealous!"
"Lady Isabelle! Lady Isabelle! Is it true that you and your husband saved an entire village from an undead outbreak?!"
Isabelle was blushing, laughing nervously, fielding questions with grace. As the communication hub of the mines, everyone knew who she was. She was a celebrity in this underground world.
Cassius realized he was getting stares too. From their desks, analysts peeked over monitors, whispering.
But unlike Isabelle, no one approached him. After yesterday’s display of power and intimacy with the Commander, Cassius was viewed as untouchable. Dangerous. Respectful distance was maintained.
’I suppose solving an impossible enchantment in a minute has that effect.’
"ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!"
Evander’s voice cut through the chatter. The old man stomped toward the crowd around Isabelle, his hands waving in furious dismissal.
"What is this?! A command center or a market square?! Back to your stations, all of you! The monsters aren’t going to manage themselves while you stand around gawking!"
The employees scattered instantly, returning to their desks with the speed of frightened rabbits.
Evander watched them go, grumbling under his breath, before his attention turned to Isabelle.
Isabelle tensed. Even though Evander wasn’t physically imposing, there was something about his strict gaze that made her feel like she was being weighed and measured.
She quickly stepped forward, her introduction tumbling out in a nervous rush.
"Mr. Evander! It’s an honor to meet you! I’m Isabelle Sinclair—I came here with my husband to help with the mana fiend crisis, at Captain Julie’s recommendation."
"I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you and the work you do here. The Holyfield Mines are so fortunate to have someone of your caliber—"
Evander didn’t respond immediately.
He simply...stared at her.
His gaze traveled up and down, taking in her appearance with an intensity that made Isabelle’s skin prickle.
But strangely, there was no lust in his eyes—no desire, no appreciation of her beauty. Instead, he seemed to be looking at something deeper. Something beneath the surface.
Isabelle felt as if her very soul was being examined.
Finally, Evander let out a long sigh.
"Pure." He said quietly. "A pure soul."
Isabelle blinked. "Excuse me?"
Evander met her eyes. "You have a very pure soul, lass."
She didn’t know what to say.
"To reach such a position of power while maintaining a pure heart..." Evander shook his head slowly. "It means you’ve been both very lucky and very talented. Most mages who reach your level have done things they shouldn’t be proud of—compromised their values for resources, techniques, power. Or they’ve become arrogant, looking down on everyone beneath them."
He studied her. "But you? You have a genuine, accommodating soul. Almost as if Mother Nature herself blessed you."
Isabelle was stunned. She had expected scrutiny, perhaps even hostility. This...this was something else entirely.
"I...thank you, Mr. Evander."
Evander shook his head.
"No, I should be the one thanking you and also apologize for doubting you."
He bowed his head respectfully.
"I am Evander Drakostos, head of the Intelligence Department of the Holyfield Mines. It’s an honor to have you here. Thank you for taking time from your schedule to assist us."
Isabelle was completely caught off guard. This man, who scolded his subordinates like a military drill sergeant was bowing to her? Treating her with such deference?
"How...can you tell all of that just by looking at me?" She finally asked.
Evander chuckled, the first genuine laugh anyone had heard from him all day.
"Don’t worry about that, lass. I have a keen eye. After enough years, you learn to read people just by looking at them."
’Could he have an ability like Joy?’ Isabelle wondered. ’Something that lets him see into a person’s soul?’
But she decided it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had accepted her.
"I’ll do my utmost to help the people of the Holyfield Mines." She said sincerely. "You have my word!"
Evander nodded, satisfied. "I’m sure you will." Then his expression sharpened. "But let me make one thing clear, lass."
Isabelle straightened.
"Pure soul or not, if you make a mistake that jeopardizes my miners, I will scold you just as harshly as anyone else! Do you understand?!"
Isabelle smiled brightly, sensing no malice in his words.
"Understood, Master Evander! I will follow your orders precisely!"
"Good." Evander grunted, satisfied.
Then, the old man turned his sharp, dark eyes toward Cassius.
Beside Cassius, Ragnora quickly leaned down, whispering in a panicked rush:
"Cassius, be careful! Evander is notoriously harsh toward young noblemen! He loathes handsome young men especially! Please, do not take offense if he says something crude!"
Cassius chuckled lightly. "Don’t worry, Commander. I think he’s quite endearing."
Cassius took a confident step forward, ready to greet the old man with his signature charm.
But the moment Evander’s eyes locked fully onto Cassius’s face, something utterly incomprehensible happened.
BAM!
Evander froze as if hit by lightning! His dark eyes widened in sheer, catastrophic horror! His breath hitched violently, and his pale, weathered face instantly flushed into a scorching, furious shade of bright crimson!
"You—" Evander’s voice cracked. "You—you—"
He stumbled backward, clutching at his chest as if his heart was about to burst.
Cassius froze. "Mr. Evander? Are you alright?"
Isabelle looked between them with confusion. "Mr. Evander, is something wrong?"
Evander took another step back. "Don’t—don’t come closer!"
Cassius frowned. "Do you need help? Some water? Should I fetch a medic?"
"No! Don’t take a step forward!" Evander’s voice had gone high-pitched, almost panicked. "Stay right there! Don’t come near me!"
Cassius hesitated, then took another cautious step. "Master Evander, please, if you’re ill—"
"DON’T!" Evander cried out. And then, involuntarily, a sound escaped his lips.
"Ahhhh!♡~"
It was a moan. Soft. Breathless. Undeniably sensual.
Silence crashed over the room like a tidal wave.
Every employee froze. Brenda’s jaw dropped open. Ragnora’s eyes bulged.
Did Mr. Evander just...moan? At Cassius?
Whispers erupted like wildfire.
"Did you hear that?"
"Was that a moan?"
"Our stoic leader...moaning?"
"What is happening? Why is he blushing?"
Cassius felt chills run down his spine. An old man had just moaned at him. At him. What was happening?!
’No.’ He told himself firmly. ’No, this must be some kind of medical condition. Something that causes involuntary vocalizations. There’s no other explanation.’
"Mr. Evander." He said carefully, taking another step. "I really think you should rest. I don’t know what’s happening, but—"
Evander glared at him, but the glare lacked heat. It was shaky. Vulnerable.
"I told you...not to come closer?"
But the tone. Oh, god, the tone. It wasn’t angry. It was...coquettish! Seductiven Like a lover begging for space, not a soldier ordering a halt!
It sounded eerily similar to the voice Isabelle used in bed when she wanted him to stop teasing her.
Cassius recoiled physically, covering his groin instinctively.
’What the hell was that!? Why is he talking to me like that?!’
Evander seemed to realize his slip. He cast a panicked glance around the room, seeing the staring eyes of his subordinates.
"I—I apologize." Evander stammered, his face now the color of a ripe tomato. "That was—that was involuntary. I didn’t mean to—the sound simply—"
He was backing away even further now, edging toward the door.
"I need to—I’ll be taking a brief break. A very brief break. Resume your duties. All of you. NOW!"
He spun around, tripped over a chair, caught himself on a desk and fled.
And just like that Evander Drakostos, the strategist who had never shown weakness or hesitation in ten years of service—
—fled from Cassius like a startled rabbit.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Silence reigned.
Then the whispers erupted.
"What just happened?!"
"Did you see his face?! He was RED!"
"He MOANED! At Sir Cassius! Master Evander MOANED!"
"I’ve never—in all my years—I can’t—"
"Was that a MOAN?!"
"Shut up about the moan, Gerald!"
"I’m just SAYING—"
Ragnora turned to Cassius with an expression that was difficult to read.
"I should..." She cleared her throat. "I should go check on him."
"I think that would be wise." Cassius said, his voice slightly strained.
Ragnora hurried after Evander, her long strides carrying her across the command center in seconds. The door swung shut behind her, leaving Cassius, Isabelle, and Brenda standing in the middle of a room full of stunned clerks.
Isabelle was the first to break the silence.
"Well." She said, her tone carefully neutral. "That was...unexpected."
"Unexpected!?" Cassius turned to her with an expression of profound bewilderment. "Isabelle, an old man just moaned at me. He looked at me and he moaned! Like I was—like he was—" He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
"It was rather strange." Isabelle admitted. "He was perfectly normal with me. And then he saw you and..."
She made a vague gesture that encompassed the entirety of what had just happened.
"His voice changed." Brenda added, still looking shell-shocked. "Did you notice? His voice changed. It went all...breathy. Like he was—"
"Don’t finish that sentence." Cassius said quickly. "Please. For my sanity. Do not finish that sentence."
"I’ve known Master Evander for ten years." Brenda continued, apparently unable to stop herself. "Ten years. I have seen him face down nobles, monsters, supply chain emergencies, and at least one exploding laboratory. I have never—never—seen him act like that with anyone!"
She turned to Cassius with an expression of genuine, almost reverent confusion.
"What did you do to him, Sir Cassius?"
"Nothing!" Cassius threw up his hands. "I didn’t do anything! I took one step toward him, and he reacted like I was carrying the plague!"
"It was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever witnessed." Isabelle agreed. "And I once saw a chicken I put into the oven open the door and run away."
Before Cassius could even ask how that was even possible, the door opened and Ragnora returned.
Her expression was composed, but there was a tightness around her eyes that suggested she was working hard to maintain that composure.
"Is he alright?" Brenda asked.
"He’s...fine." Ragnora’s voice was carefully measured. "He simply needed a moment to collect himself. He’ll return to his duties shortly."
"What happened?" Cassius pressed. "Why did he react that way? Does he have some kind of condition? Is he allergic to—" He gestured at himself vaguely. "—me?"
Ragnora hesitated. Her eyes met Cassius’s, and for just a moment, he saw something flicker there. Something conflicted. Something that looked almost like...guilt?
"Evander has no ill feelings toward you." She said slowly. "He bears you no grudge. He has no reason to fight with you, and he does not wish you any harm."
"Then why—"
"But." She held up a hand, and her voice carried a note of genuine apology. "He would prefer to keep his distance from you. And he would appreciate it if you did not try to get too close to him."
Cassius stared at her in bafflement.
"Wait—why!? What did I do? I don’t have any grudge with him. I don’t even know him." He sniffed himself. "Do I smell? Is that it?"
Ragnora shook her head. "I’m sorry, Cassius. I really can’t say. It’s...difficult to explain."
Cassius studied her for a long moment. He could see the conflict in her eyes, the desire to tell him the truth warring with the need to keep a secret.
There was clearly something going on between Ragnora and Evander. Something they were both hiding.
But he also knew, without a doubt, that neither of them meant him any harm. The old man’s reaction had been strange, yes, but it hadn’t been malicious.
"Alright." He said with a resigned shrug. "If you say so, Commander."
Ragnora nodded gratefully. "Thank you for understanding."
But even as they moved on, Cassius couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just witnessed something significant.
He glanced toward the door where the old man had fled, his mind already turning with possibilities.
What could possibly make a grumpy old man blush like a schoolgirl just by looking at me?
He had no idea.
But he was determined to find out.