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81.48% Bleak Midwinter. / Chapter 65: City of Lost Moon (Ⅳ)

Capítulo 65: City of Lost Moon (Ⅳ)

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My knuckles knocked against the door I was standing in front of. The sound caused an echo, making it reverberate in the empty floor. There was no one on the other side it seemed, since even after deliberately making some noise by tossing a vase and a table down, no one came from the side where the supposed young masters were.

Suddenly the door flew open and closed immediately afterwards.

After a few seconds, it opened once again.

His golden gaze was more surprised than agitated. "Your wife kicked you out?"

"She's taking a bath."

"And?" He narrowed his eyes on me. "Did you pop a boner or something?"

"No, I—" How did he even come to that conclusion?

Actually, now that I think of it, it's quite natural. I am acting that way.

"Maybe." I just surrendered, letting out a deep breath.

"Can't blame ya." Contrary to my expectations, the door completely opened as he stepped to the side. "Get in."

Taking a step inside, he closed the door and clicked the deadbolt into its place.

I looked around.

It was a decently decorated room filled with all the basic necessities required for a guest. It had a few books on the shelves, a dressing table, a double bed and two couch chairs with a crystal table in front of it. The area which is usually glass seemed to be made out of pure diamond.

"Crazy, isn't it?" Michael spoke from behind me. As I turned around, I saw him standing while leaning against the wall, dressed in a long robe. He was wearing nothing other than a robe. His legs were visible from the place not tightly held by the belt of the robe. "I checked it. The table is made out of pure diamond. Almost as if it is nothing to them."

I hummed in response. "There always have been fundamental differences between the norms on Earth and Eden, even before the separation. So, I am not really surprised."

"Hrmmmm." He let out a loud humming sound and then took a sip out of a goblet that had a dark red liquid in it. "Wah! This is amazing."

"It could be poisoned." I stated as a matter-of-factly.

"Oh, well…" he paused and then shrugged, "…at least it's not as stupid as your father leading us straight into the dragon's maw."

I was about to agree with him, but he spoke again.

"Don't get me wrong, I am not berating your dad." He continued, taking another sip from it as he placed it on the dressing table and sat down on a small stool beside it. His hair was still damp, and slight steam was rising from it. "If it was my father, he would've done the same thing. These old, selfish farts are all the same."

He then looked up at me. "Don't tell me you love your daddy and can't stand me talking shit about them."

I raised my hands up in a placating manner. "Be my guest, by all means." I had no objection. After all, what he said was completely true. It was quite likely that he was told by mom to further relations with them after saving me.

Since me being alive is of absolute paramount importance to whatever she desires.

"Even though I am in your room." I ended my sentence.

Michael's eyes went wide and he then chuckled. "Do you have a split personality or something?"

It didn't sound condescending or anything. Just a genuine query. Somehow it felt strange. It wasn't how he usually acts or talks. Not like this. At least as far as I remember. But as I was pondering that, something clocked.

Split personality?

Without much change in my demeanour, I asked casually as I shifted in my seat. "Is something the matter?"

"Nah." He shrugged, rolling words in his mouth with his tongue. "Was just wondering how did you suddenly devolve into this…" he paused, once again, as if searching for appropriate words, "…utter prick."

What is he talking about?

Still maintaining an outwards façade of neutrality, I pressed a little further, keeping my words measured. But one could only be so oblivious. But I was willing to take the risk.

"I have always been like this."

Michael suddenly scoffed, pressed the goblet to his lips and then immediately drank the whole thing in one go. Letting out a loud groan, a flush crept up his cheeks as he swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the table for support. "Hell no." He spoke up, locking his eyes with mine. "You were much more tolerable before."

This isn't giving me much to go off of.

"In what way?"

 "Dunno." He shrugged and poured himself another glass. "This is some good shit, I can't lie. You gotta try this."

"I'm good." I refused, placing my head against the backrest. It was way too hard and precarious to extract information from Michael. And despite how tense our relationship looked, oddly enough I had talked the most with him. Not even Maria came close.

"Aw man, you're such a party pooper." He clinked the goblet in his hand with the other one that was on the table, half-filled. "Cheers." He talked to himself.

"It's not like I don't like drinking alcohol." I replied as he looked at me through the mirror. "I don't feel comfortable drinking while we are in an enemy castle where even the guards are powerful enough to give us more trouble than I'd like." I pointed at the door, beyond which Harper and Sloane were approaching our…Michael's room. 

"Ehh, you are way too stiff for your own good. Let loose a little." Saying that he stood up and walked up to the door. As he opened it, he was met with Sloane who had a change of clothes draped over her arms. She tilted to the side and saw me sitting on the couch.

"Don't you have clothes to give us?" Michael asked brusquely.

She exhaled sharply and thrust two pairs of what seemed like tunic robes to him before turning around. Harper lingered for a while before speaking. "Lord Cromwell has sent for the humans named Arthur, Michael and Astrid. Lunch has been served. The Lord's chief guest Aksel has arrived in the main banquet hall already."

Lunch? Wasn't it fully dark outside?

"Alright, alright. Off you go." He shut the door at her face.

Turning around he threw my clothes at me.

"You stink man. Get a bath." A smirk found its way to his face. "Unless you wanna go back and have a bath with yo—"

"I will take a bath here." Before he could complete his awfully predictable sentence, I interrupted him and went to take a bath.

The bath wasn't much different than the ones we had on Earth. As one would expect, the main visual difference one would expect from two worlds being centuries apart was there but other than that, it wasn't much different.

Like the walls were covered in tall vines instead of the usual marbling. The bathtub was made out of a cold stone. However, it only felt cold right now. It had a conductive property which changed temperatures. There were taps for both cold and hot water as well.

Although I could sense Arcanum from the water. It wasn't poisonous or harmful. If it wasn't that then it means that the water is being regulated using magic, or an artefact that uses Arcanum.

Regardless of that, there was no soap. The only equivalent I could find for soap was some powder that turned into a bubbly, soapy texture after I mixed some water in it. The texture was a bit weird, like scrub since it had small granular things inside it.

But it did the job. It had a nice smell as well. As one would expect, it was quite close to natural smells, rather than the artificial ones we were used to. It smelt of a forest after rain. A specific bark of a tree.

After taking around 30 mins soaking my tired and somewhat battered body into lukewarm water, I went outside.

Michael was already dressed by the time I was out. His hair was styled in his usual unkempt bun, tied back with a black rubber band. He was wearing a long black robe that had a brown belt on his waist.

His waist was narrow enough to make women envious.

Well, if you looked close enough and removed the perpetual scowl from his face, even his facial features were a bit effeminate. Not in a bad way, of course.

I, myself, was wearing a grey coloured tunic with black belt tying it together. Underneath was a warm grey shirt. Since we were the same height, it didn't really matter which colour he picked.

After a few gruesome minutes of styling my hair in the usual curtains, I was finally ready. Styling the hair, by far, was the hardest task. Since I usually have Astrid comb it for me. Or she does it herself. This also gave Michael an opportunity to sneak a few snickers at me while I struggled.

When we got out of the room and walked to the edge of the corridor, I looked to my left. The door of the room in which Astrid was wide open.

Sloane was waiting for us, now wearing a much more formal maid dress. Contrary to the previous dress that looked more-or-less like a tight, nighttime lingerie. This dress seemed to be made from a coarse fabric—like linen, with muted colours—black and white.

The primary garment was a kirtle, a simple, loose-fitting dress with long sleeves that extended to the ankles. Over this, she was wearing an apron made of linen. Underneath, a shift or chemise, also made of linen, served as a base layer.

She was also wearing a simple head cover—a wimple.

Footwear was basic and functional—ankle length leather boots.

A woollen cloak hugged her shoulders, slightly curving over her chest.

Her dark green eyes narrowed at me, the scarred eye twitching before slightly motioning to the stairs. "The Lord and the Elders await you."

"I hate this anime setting. What's next? A blue haired demon maid?" Michael grumbled to himself, causing Sloane's brow to twitch once again. The slight motion of her horns suggested she was shaking. From anger or tiredness, I couldn't tell.

Once we were through the stairs and some corridors, we finally reached the giant double doors that led to the supposed banquet hall. Astrid and Harper were already standing there.

Astrid was wearing quite an elegant piece of royal blue coloured silk gown. The gown had long, flowing sleeves and a fitted bodice, highlighting her narrow waist. Underneath, she wore a linen chemise, soft against her skin.

A decorative silver belt cinched at her waist. Completing the whole ensemble was her headwear which included a finely woven veil. A fur-lined cloak dangled loosely from her shoulders.

Her hair was styled in the usual casual hairstyle of a side ponytail, held high by a velvet ribbon.

"Damn."

"What?"

"Huh? Nothing." Michael shook his head, a little intoxicated.

As Astrid spotted us, she walked over. Her lips had barely moved to say anything as the heavy doors behind us opened a gust of wind rushed outwards.

A shiver ran down my spine.

Inside, rows upon rows of demons were lined up, their hands clasped in front of them, each of them giving out the same aura as Ed—some even stronger.

Aksel was sitting in the forefront of the room, right beside Jayden who looked back at me and smirked. "Let the celebration begin!"

Celebration for what? But it became quite clear after I saw it. The victorious smile on Aksel's face.

Damn it.

He has already negotiated something with him.

This is bad…

GLOSSARY FOR SOME HARD WORDS THAT MADE UP THE CASTLE COMPONENTS:

Battlements: Protective walls on top of the castle with gaps (crenelations) for archers to shoot through.

Keep: The central, most fortified part of the castle where the lord and his family live.

Drawbridge: A bridge that can be raised or lowered to allow or prevent access to the castle.

Moat: A deep, wide trench filled with water surrounding the castle, serving as a defence mechanism.

Bailey: The enclosed courtyard within the castle walls.

Machicolations: Overhanging parts of the castle walls or towers with openings to drop stones or boiling liquids on attackers.

Barbican: An outer defensive structure protecting the gate.

Portcullis: A heavy grilled door that can be lowered to block the entrance.

Turrets: Small towers often at the corners of the castle or on top of larger towers.

Crenelations: The notched battlements at the top of the castle walls.

Murder Holes: Openings in the ceiling of a gateway or passage through which defenders could attack invaders.

Chimneys: Chimneys are chimneys, duh.


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
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Cya next time.

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