章節 11: 11. Addicted
The days passed after that night and Tristan grew less frequent in the walls of the mansion.
He had last seen Lucia that night and could not return to her door. He also spent most of his time training up in the mountain. He even began to explore its lands in an attempt to clear his head every day.
Also, on the day of the guest's departure; which had been three days after the duel, he recalled the gazes those men had given him. So he expected something, and he prepared for it daily.
Tristan wasn't one to back out from a fight—and this one he felt too inclined to participate in.
He pushed his emotions till they took a back seat and he focused on working his body out and further honing his sword skills.
Tristan would spend whole days up there, only coming down when he needed more food.
Due to this, he had been unaware of Lucia's departure. She had asked after him but he had not been home.
This event occurred nine days after the incident with the Urtal family's son.
Still, Lucia being the thoughtful person that she was, left a message with one of the maids. Unfortunately, Tristan not only scared them, but he also remained irregular in the mansion.
The night he received the message had been one of the worst nights of his life.
A whole week had passed before he received the heartfelt letter. And in that entry, he found out how Lucia felt toward him.
In her words, "I love you as a woman loves a man." That simple sentence had not only caused emotional anguish but also stunned him.
They had never been one to talk about sexuality and certain subjects. Not because either found it weird, but because Tristan never reached the point where any such feelings arose.
He considered Lucia a sister. But knowing she loved him as one would love their lover caused a strange emotion to come alive in his being.
At that point, a total of 16 days had gone by since the fight.
The same night the maid had delivered the letter, Tristan ascended into the mountains to spend two days without food or water.
He didn't train but simply moved about, wallowing in grim reality.
Ideas concerning how to find her crossed his mind. But Lucia had only mentioned she would be living with an uncle. He believed she never said where Intentionally.
He considered demanding an answer from Lord Ior, but he doubted the man would let any information spill.
The more Tristan realized how hopeless his situation was, the more he turned towards rage to cloud his pain.
An even greater anger towards everything lit up in his being. Hatred grew in his heart and the world lost its color and vibrancy.
Tristan wanted to vent, but so he turned towards bloodlust. He desired to end something, so he hunted down the animals he could find and laid waste to them.
Still, that wasn't enough to quench the darkness growing in his heart. He felt pleasure merely thinking of ending the life of a human opponent, so he waited.
Lord Ior being the dirty man that he was would call upon him when it was time. Despite their skirmish, he needed Tristan. There was a reason even Tristan felt entitled to certain things owned by the man.
Participating in death matches raked in significant sums of money. Money that the town's lord utilized.
Swinging his sword after a series of fluid and sharp movements, Tristan generated an impressive amount of wind force with the downward swing. The sound of his blade cutting the wind remained equally intense.
He started the next set of moves to unleash three swings that carried enough power to remove the body parts of humans.
He had barely done anything against young master Den. In truth, he could have killed him seconds into their duel.
Interrupting the execution of his partially self-taught moves, his ears perked up at the sound of footsteps.
He immediately lowered his blade and took careful steps till he reached the tip of his training ground.
He peeked downwards and saw a man making his way up there, albeit with difficulty.
Kicking bits of rocks and sand down to alert the focused man, Tristan saw him raise his head to lock gazes with his target.
"Lord Ior calls for you, young master!" The man announced, taking note of the toned man a few feets above him. His eyes fell on his numerous scars and he shook inwardly.
"I understand. I'll make my way down soon," Tristan responded after a moment of silence. He waved dismissively at the man, who nodded and began to make his way down.
The guard wished he had just called out Tristan's name. The trouble he went through seemed too much. Then again, the young master went up and down that place daily. An interesting feat on its own.
Sweeping his gaze on his training ground, Tristan inspected the fruitless tree but fell into thought.
He understood just what Lord Ior desired by summoning him.
Tristan sheathed his sword and sat by the tree's base to take half an hour of rest. He would have matches or a match later that night. He needed to be in top shape.
He also didn't trust the town's lord. He could set something up. Or maybe his paranoia was just in play.
A total of 21 days had gone by since the duel and finally, Tristan could do what he had trained to do. Kill.
Although he knew full well that he would regret killing a man, adding whoever they were to the list of voices that tormented him. His heart had been plunged into such darkness that he overlooked that certain consequence.
Maybe what he truly desired was the experience of a genuine battle. The rush of emotions. The feeling of his chest pounding and the alertness he entered in such moments.
He never admitted it, but he had gotten addicted to blood-pumping fights. He lived most of his childhood in such situations. It was almost inevitable.
Rising to return to the town, Tristan took his sweet time recovering as much as he could from his two days of staying up there.
He arrived at the mansion and saw the carriage ready. It was about two hours till sunset he went straight to the town's lord's office to see him.
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