As Mordret stepped into the hall, a heavy sigh escaped his lips. 'Another damn long day... It's like troubles have taken a permanent liking to me, even in this virtual world.' His internal gripes persisted as he mulled over his concerns. Amidst this inner turmoil, he failed to notice Eliza, who was absorbed in her work, not bothering to exchange a word with him.
'And what the hell are these reputation points anyway? Hey, system, do you have any insight on this?' Mordret summoned the game's system for answers.
[Reputation Points: The Kingdom of Solhaven operates a system enabling individuals to climb the nobility ladder through garnering support. Reputation points serve as the yardstick for this ascent. Baron Mordret Valorborn's status is currently on the rise as a newly appointed noble. Reputation points are earned by those who wholeheartedly align themselves with a noble. This backing is adaptable, shifting with the noble's actions and the sentiments of their followers. Interestingly, even hatred directed towards a particular noble can contribute to their reputation, as long as it stems from a fervent reaction.]
...
[Reputation] Baron of the Peta Estate. Subjects under rule: 1887(+100)→1987 Baron Rank: III Progress towards Rank II: (1987/5000).
...
'Well, isn't that intriguing... So, the ones who despise me are also boosting my reputation, huh? But seriously, what the hell does this reputation really do? Is it just about climbing the social ladder?' A sudden realization dawned upon Mordret.
'Ah, I remember now! Ellie mentioned that anyone above the status of Viscount gets a knight and eventually a personal army. But is that all there is to it? Is this reputation thing really worth the hassle?' Mordret found himself grappling with these thoughts.
'From a logical standpoint, higher status means more power. But then again, why aim to serve a king when you can become one yourself through reputation? It's a damn enigma. Well, I'm the only one who can truly figure it out.' Just as he was about to ponder this further, he noticed Eliza nearby, her back turned to him.
"Ellie, what's up? Hm?" Mordret was about to address her when he realized something was off. Eliza seemed distressed, her voice tinged with pain. Without turning around, she spoke, "Are you angry with me, my Lord?"
"Hm? Why the hell would I be?" Perceiving the uneasiness in her tone, Mordret moved closer to Eliza, his curiosity piqued. She appeared smaller than usual, quivering as emotions churned within her. It was an unexpected sight that left Mordret perplexed.
Swiftly, he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ellie, are you...?" His words trailed off as he felt Eliza's body give way.
'What the actual fuck?' Despite his quick reflexes, Mordret was caught off guard by her sudden collapse. He managed to catch her, but his shock was palpable.
Eliza's face had turned a deep shade of red, her breathing erratic. Dread gripped Mordret as he observed her condition. Adding to his alarm, her body radiated intense heat, indicating a dangerous fever.
"Shit! This is bad!" Mordret's anxiety surged, momentarily overpowering his worry for her. But the calming effect of his passive skill, <Calm>, intervened, soothing the tumultuous emotions.
"You need immediate healing." Holding Eliza in his arms like a princess, Mordret made his way to her room.
However, upon entering, he was left utterly speechless. Contrary to his expectations, Eliza's room was starkly bare. Not even a bed could be seen.
'What the fuck? Where does she sleep then?' The room's setup oddly resembled the chamber of the old woman he had encountered in his memories. A trunk and a simple rug were its only furnishings, which baffled Mordret.
"So that's why you never showed me your room before? I'll give you an earful once you're better." Without wasting a moment, Mordret carried Eliza to his own room and gently laid her on his bed.
Venturing into the kitchen for the first time, he was met with another unexpected revelation. The absence of servants caught him off guard. It was at that moment that he realized something peculiar—he hadn't encountered anyone in the mansion besides Eliza.
'Holy crap, how did I miss this before? Am I seriously that dense?' It felt as if a fog had lifted from Zephyr's perception. Something was decidedly off about this game world. Whatever actions Mordret undertook, they always felt inherently right and in line with his character.
'What kind of Baron doesn't have a bunch of servants running around in his house? This is just... weird. It's like I'm not even myself. What the hell is going on here?' Zephyr was about to delve deeper into these musings when Eliza's cough broke his train of thought.
"Goddammit, focus, you idiot! Ellie's sick, and here I am, drifting off into la-la land. Do I have some sort of attention-deficit thing going on? Why do I keep getting sidetracked while trying to concentrate on something?" He released his pent-up frustration by landing a punch on the wall, berating himself for his erratic behavior. But with no time to lose, he forced himself to move forward. After all, he had a patient to attend to.
...
The room's tranquility was disrupted by the sound of Eliza's cough. She let out a quiet curse and struggled to sit up. Despite the overwhelming fatigue and stress she had endured, she persevered. She had weathered it all, even when her Lord faced accusations.
She could never stand anyone disparaging her Lord, yet today, she had no choice but to endure it. 'Why is my Lord acting so differently?' This question had been swirling in her mind daily.
In recent days, her Lord had undergone a transformation, becoming kinder, more cheerful, and surprisingly humorous. 'Could his illness have triggered this change?' Eliza wondered.
After all, her Lord had never spared a glance for those beneath him. Yet, he didn't explode in anger at Jon's vile words. 'Has he softened?' Eliza was bewildered. While her Lord had mentioned he would change after losing his memories, she hadn't expected such a drastic shift.
It was as if he had become an entirely different person. However, amidst her confusion, Eliza's gaze settled on the very person who occupied her thoughts. A graceful figure slumbered in a chair, wearing a less-than-elegant expression. A book lay on his chest, evidence of his impromptu nap. The chair creaked as he shifted slightly, emitting a soft snore that resonated in the room.
Eliza couldn't help but giggle at the sight. This was the man she couldn't help but care for—the man she served with devotion.
Her Lord, Mordret Valorborn.
'Why can't I move my body?' Eliza attempted to rise, but her efforts were futile.
"Ah, crap! I fell asleep!" Eliza's groan prompted Mordret to abruptly awaken from his chair. "I need to check your temperature." Eliza winced and shut her eyes tightly.
"Hmm... It's normal now. Thanks to the chieftess, the healer arrived in time." Mordret's sigh of relief warmed Eliza's heart.
'Was I unwell?' Before she knew it, Mordret's warm hand brushed against her head, sending a flush across her cheeks.
Gently patting her, Mordret spoke, "Are you feeling better now? Your fever's gone, but you might still be weak." Eliza blushed even more.
As she tentatively opened her eyes, she met Mordret's gentle gaze. Despite his stoic exterior, his voice carried an unmistakable sense of relief.
"Are you awake?" he inquired. Eliza couldn't help but twitch. This wasn't the way her Lord usually behaved, yet... yet she found it difficult to harbor her usual resentment.
"Yes, my Lord," she answered, her voice still weak.
"Hmm..." Suddenly, Mordret leaned in, his face coming closer to Eliza's as he planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
"You were burning up last night and didn't have dinner. I'll bring you something to eat. Get some rest. We have a lot to discuss," he said, leaving Eliza with a smile.
Though he continued speaking, Eliza found herself unable to hear his words. Her heart raced as her face grew hotter. This unfamiliar side of her Lord was uncharted territory, but it was a welcome change.
"Don't catch me off guard like that, my Lord. I..." Burying her face in the sheets, Eliza mumbled something under her breath.
Undoubtedly, she could never bring herself to hate him.
***
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