Chapter 16: A Stroll with the Princess (Part One)
The door to Sollivan’s quiet and silent room suddenly opened, and a hunched-over young man entered, panting heavily. Every step he took was unsteady, as if he were severely drunk.
After walking through the small room, he finally reached his soft, familiar bed and collapsed face-first onto it. When he heard the door lock, he cursed into the mattress, his voice muffled.
"Those bastards almost killed me." With great effort, he turned over to face the ceiling and spread his arms out to relax, trying to ease the pain in his arm muscles. "Huff," he exhaled with difficulty and lifted his head slightly to look at his stretched-out body. "I’ve never sweated like this in my entire life. Even after showering, I still feel the sticky discomfort of my skin."
Finally, he stopped complaining and closed his eyes quietly, relaxing his body. His breathing steadied, and it seemed as though he had fallen asleep. But after a few minutes of rest, he opened his tired eyes and stared at the ceiling for a long time before struggling to get up from the bed.
Exhausted, he commanded, "Come out."
As usual, Noctis emerged from his shadow and stood before him. The crimson eyes stared at him, and with concern, Sollivan raised his hand and scratched his chin.
"I’m in a weak position, and you’re the only thing—or rather, the only person—I can rely on." When he remembered the incident that had happened that morning, he felt anxious and threatened. He could no longer maintain his composure when he realized he was branded with a mark resembling a slave seal.
"I wouldn’t have realized it if it weren’t for my reckless actions. But at least the leader didn’t overdo it and left the controlling authority to only a few people. It seems that Blear, despite his status, doesn’t have any authority over me."
He thought deeply and tried to analyze the nature of the seal placed on his body, but he stopped after a few seconds.
His knowledge was too limited, and even if he knew the type of seal, he likely wouldn’t be able to remove it anytime soon. After organizing his thoughts, he refocused on his priorities. He lifted his head and looked at Noctis, and after hesitating for a moment, he ordered sternly, "Turn your hand into a sword."
Following his command, the shadow’s hand twisted strangely and began to contort in a mysterious way, eventually transforming into a slightly short sword.
Sollivan stood up and raised Noctis’s hand. He felt a strange, cold texture, and without paying much attention to it, he began to check the sharpness of the black sword. But he frowned because the sword wasn’t sharp.