New Novel
Chapter 2: Aldric

Chapter 2: Aldric

In name, Lathel was still the head of the family’s adopted son.

But ever since Aldric was born, no one in this family truly regarded him as a young master anymore.

Aldric walked into the room, a young male servant trailing behind him. He wore a white training outfit trimmed with gold, his hair neatly combed, a sword decorated with magic crystals hanging at his hip, and in his hand he carried a short staff used for practicing magic.

Though still young, Aldric already carried the bearing of a noble who had been pampered since childhood. Every step he took was filled with the confidence of someone who had never had to fight for the things already laid out before him.

He looked around the room, then let his gaze settle on Leviana.

"Still not dead yet?"

That first sentence made Lathel freeze.

He turned his head to look at Aldric.

Aldric didn’t seem to feel there was anything wrong with what he’d just said. He walked closer to the bed, leaning down to observe Leviana as though inspecting an old piece of furniture forgotten in a storeroom.

"Five years and she’s still breathing. She really clings to life."

Lathel set the bowl down, wiped his hands with a cloth, then raised his hands to sign.

Aldric watched for a few seconds, and irritation immediately crossed his face.

"Don’t wave your hands in front of me. It’s an eyesore."

Lathel stopped.

Aldric had never had any intention of learning his signs, despite the two of them still being brothers in name. From childhood to now, every time Lathel tried to communicate with his hands, Aldric would only show impatience and tell him to use the writing board.

Lathel pulled the small board on the table toward him and wrote a line.

"She still has a chance of waking up."

Aldric read it and burst out laughing, as if he’d just seen an incredibly stupid joke.

"You actually believe this piece of waste can still wake up?"

Lathel’s eyes shifted slightly.

Aldric didn’t notice. He raised the staff in his hand and used its tip to poke Leviana’s arm.

Once.

Twice.

Her arm sank slightly under the pressure and then returned to its original position, but her face showed no reaction whatsoever.

Aldric smiled coldly.

"Look at that. No different from a piece of wood."

Lathel immediately stepped forward and grabbed hold of the staff.

Aldric turned his head to look at him.

"Let go."

Lathel didn’t let go.

The two struggled for several seconds. Finally, Aldric narrowed his eyes and channeled a bit of mana into the staff. A repelling force instantly traveled through the shaft, forcing Lathel back half a step.

Aldric gave a cold snort.

"You really think of yourself as her betrothed now?"

He raised the tip of the staff again, this time jabbing it into Leviana’s shoulder and slowly pushing it to one side, as if checking whether a dead animal still had any reaction.

"I just want to see if she can actually feel anything. If she can’t even respond to this, how is she any different from a corpse being kept alive with medicine?"

The male servant standing behind bowed his head, a faint smile still visible on his lips.

Lathel clenched his fists.

Seeing that motion, Aldric found it even more amusing.

"What? You’re angry?"

Lathel pulled the wooden board back and wrote very quickly.

"Don’t touch her like that."

Aldric read it, and his expression immediately turned cold.

"You’re giving me orders?"

Lathel shook his head.

"Then know your place."

Aldric used the staff to lift Leviana’s chin. The cold tip pressed against her pale skin, tilting her face slightly to one side.

"Five years ago, she was still the famous genius of the academy. Always wearing that cold expression, as if even speaking a few words to me was some kind of favor. Who would’ve thought she’d end up becoming this."

He turned his wrist slightly, letting the tip of the staff drag her face to the left, then to the right.

"Someone who can’t open her eyes, can’t speak, can’t feed herself, can’t even handle her own bodily waste without someone else doing it for her. If not for the fact that the family behind her still has some value, my parents would’ve tossed this thing into a graveyard long ago."

The room suddenly grew cold.

A thin layer of frost began to form on the silver cup sitting beside the bed.

But Aldric didn’t notice.

Lathel stepped forward, this time directly swatting the staff away from Leviana’s face. The motion wasn’t overly forceful, but the intent was far clearer than before.

Aldric looked at the staff that had been pushed aside, and a dangerous look flashed through his eyes.

"You seem to have forgotten your place."

He stepped closer to Lathel.

"You’re just an orphan my parents picked up for good fortune. After my mother gave birth to me, whatever little value you had was already over."

Aldric tapped the tip of the staff lightly against Lathel’s chest.

"You never awakened a bloodline."

Another tap.

"You have no talent for magic."

A third time, the tip of the staff pushed harder, forcing Lathel back.

"You can’t even speak a single word."

Aldric looked him over from top to bottom.

"If the family didn’t need to keep up appearances, a useless thing like you would’ve been thrown out on the street long ago. And now you dare stop me from touching a woman who’s living worse than dead?"

Lathel looked at him.

Those words dragged up a number of old images in his mind.

The day Aldric was born, the entire family held a feast for three days straight. Lathel was still small then, standing outside the great hall watching everyone joyfully cradling the infant. The woman who had once held him and called him her son didn’t look his way even once.

After that, Lathel’s room was moved to a smaller one.

The servants attending to him were reassigned.

New clothes turned into Aldric’s old ones that no longer fit.

His meals grew smaller.

No one ever formally declared that Lathel had lost his status. Everything simply happened little by little, until he realized he had become a stranger in the very family that had once taken him in.

"But you’re still lucky."

Aldric’s voice pulled Lathel back to the present.

"At least right now you still have a bit of value. The family needs someone to put their name on the betrothal, and that thing lying on the bed needs someone to clean up her waste, wipe her body, and pour medicine into her mouth."

He turned to look at Leviana, the corner of his mouth curling with contempt.

"A mute and a living corpse. Truly a match made in heaven."

The temperature in the room dropped sharply.

This time, even the male servant behind him shivered.

He glanced around and said, "Young Master, the temperature seems to be dropping."

Aldric paid no attention, answering with disdain: "Must be the stench of death in this room."

He jabbed the staff into Leviana’s waist again.

"Look at that. Five years and she’s still lying there like a beast with its bones broken. No crying, no screaming, no resistance. Her soul probably rotted away long ago; it’s just her body refusing to die."

Lathel immediately grabbed the tip of the staff, this time shoving it forcefully to one side.

Aldric’s eyes went ice cold.

"You want a beating?"

Lathel didn’t back down.

He couldn’t speak, and he didn’t want to start a conflict, but he still stood blocking the space between Aldric and the bed.

Aldric stared at him for a few seconds, then laughed.

"How hilarious. Three years of wiping her body, spooning medicine, and dealing with her waste has made you develop feelings for this thing?"

Lathel picked up the writing board.

"She is still a human being."

Aldric read it and laughed out loud.

"A human being?"

He tilted his head and looked at Leviana.

"A human being can open her eyes, can speak, can stand up on her own. And what can she do?"

Aldric patted the staff against the blanket draped across Leviana’s legs.

"All she does is lie here and drain medicine. Without the family behind her, even a magic beast kept in a pen would be worth more."

The frost on the silver cup grew thicker.

The temperature in the room continued to fall.

Deep within that motionless body, a consciousness had heard everything.

Every word.

Every laugh.

Every time the tip of that staff touched her body.

But Aldric had no idea that a current of cold mana was pouring out of Leviana. He wasn’t perceptive enough to detect the subtle fluctuation in the room, much less imagine that the woman he regarded as a living corpse had begun to reclaim control of her body.

Lathel turned to look at Leviana.

She still lay motionless, her face showing no change whatsoever, but the hand resting on the blanket seemed colder than usual.

He gently placed his hand over hers.

The instant their hands touched, the frost on the silver cup began to melt away.

The current of cold mana gradually stabilized.

Aldric looked at the gesture and scoffed.

"You really think of yourself as her betrothed?"

Lathel didn’t answer.

Aldric continued: "Don’t forget, the betrothal originally belonged to me. Our parents only changed the name to yours because they didn’t want me tied to something that could lie in bed until it dies."

He stepped even closer, lowering his voice, but the contempt grew only sharper.

"If one day she actually opens her eyes, who do you think she’ll choose?"

Aldric pointed the staff at his own chest.

"A genius who can inherit the family, being groomed by the top academy, destined to become a powerhouse..."

Then the tip swung toward Lathel.

"Or a mute with no bloodline, no strength, living off the pity of my family?"

Lathel looked at him for a while, then bent down and picked up the board.

"I’ve never wanted to compete with you."

Aldric read it, and satisfaction immediately crossed his face.

"Good that you know your place."

Lathel wrote another line.

"If she wakes up and wants to return the betrothal to you, I’ll leave."

Aldric looked slightly surprised, then broke into a mocking grin.

"Looks like you’re not completely stupid after all."

He turned and headed for the door. Before leaving, he used his staff to point at Leviana one last time.

"But don’t get your hopes up. This kind of waste could lie there for another five years, ten years, maybe until she rots on that bed."

Aldric looked at Lathel.

"If that day really comes, you just keep taking care of her. The family has fed you for years; it’s about time you paid your debt."

He paused at the door, as if something amusing had just occurred to him.

"Oh right, make sure you take good care of her. After all, if she dies too soon, it’ll be very hard for us to explain to her family."

The door closed.

Aldric’s and the servant’s footsteps gradually faded down the hallway.

The room fell silent.

Lathel stood by the bed, staring at the closed door for a long time before slowly sitting down. He picked up Leviana’s hand and cradled her palm in his own. After a moment, a bitter smile curved the corner of his lips.

Perhaps Aldric was right.

He had nothing to compete for.

The betrothal had belonged to Aldric from the start. Lathel was merely the one pushed forward as a replacement once Leviana became a burden the family refused to place on their precious son’s shoulders.

If one day she woke, everything would naturally return to the way it was meant to be.

For Lathel, that might even be a good thing.

He would be free.

He could leave this family, go somewhere no one knew he was an adopted child taken in for good fortune, somewhere no one held Aldric up as a comparison.

As long as he could find a job, rent a small room, and have enough food each day, a life like that would be enough.

Lathel slowly traced letters onto Leviana’s palm with the tip of his finger.

"Don’t mind what he said."

He paused a moment, then continued.

"If you can feel this, don’t be angry either."

The tip of his finger glided gently over the soft lines of her palm.

"After you wake up, I’ll return the betrothal to Aldric."

He looked at Leviana’s sleeping face, the bitter smile still not entirely gone.

"You don’t need to worry."

"I’ll leave on my own."

The moment Lathel finished tracing the last word, Leviana’s fingers suddenly curled inward.

Very faintly.

But enough to catch the tip of his finger.

Lathel froze.

He leaned down and looked at the hand resting in his own, assuming it was just an unconscious reflex. But right after, Leviana’s fingers moved again.

This time, the motion was clearer.

Her cold fingers slowly closed, weakly gripping the tip of Lathel’s finger as though trying to stop him from leaving. Her breathing, which had been steady, began to quicken. Her eyelids trembled faintly, and the mana that had been sealed for five years stirred silently within her body.

Lathel immediately stood, astonishment flashing through his eyes. He was about to reach for the bell cord beside the bed, but when he saw those fingers holding onto him, his hand unconsciously stopped.

Leviana still hadn’t opened her eyes.

Her face showed no clear change, but deep within her consciousness, she was pouring every last drop of remaining strength into shattering the seal that had imprisoned her for five years.

Just a little more...

Just a little more and she’d break through.

Leviana’s fingers tightened ever so slightly.

The room once again sank into silence.