The Runesmith Chapter 501: Unwanted Meeting.

Chapter 501: Unwanted Meeting.

“You want me to come with you?”

Roland’s heart sank as the armored knight approached. His father - Wentworth Arden, wanted to see him. After years of distance and the hidden ident.i.ty he held, this was the one situation Roland had been hoping to avoid. Nevertheless, refusing wasn’t an option, especially not in a public arena surrounded by soldiers, n.o.bles, and mages, all under his father’s watchful eye.

“Certainly, the Lord Marshal has ordered me to guide you to him, please follow me Lord Mage.”

The Knight Commander was cordial, but there was an implied threat in his mannerisms. He had approached alone, yet many other soldiers and knights were watching intently. A mage, dressed strangely, stood in a hidden position with a staff pointed in his direction. It was clear this wasn’t a mere suggestion, it was an order.

As a man from the inst.i.tute, there was no real reason to refuse the summons. A normal person might a.s.sume that the Marshal simply wanted to thank him. After all, Robert was Wentworth's son, and he had survived thanks to Roland’s invention. However, the duel had been a reckless plan, for which Roland could be blamed. It was entirely possible that he would be reprimanded or even attacked for putting a n.o.ble's son in danger.

"Does he know who I am, or is he just trying to figure out who the man is that’s been getting involved with his children?"

Roland's involvement with Lucienne, Wentworth’s third daughter, was well known. Francine had likely informed others that he had helped Lucienne during the Viola incident and continued to protect her at the inst.i.tute. Now, with him aiding Robert as well, it could easily be seen as suspicious. No ordinary person would go out of their way to help members of the same family without some ulterior motive. His reason, however, was simple: they were all related by blood, and he felt sympathy for his brother. Yet, he wasn’t ready to part with his Wayland persona just yet, and refusing this invitation wasn’t an option.

“Very well, lead the way.”

With a deep breath, Roland pushed off from the wall and gave the knight a small nod. He made sure to conceal his voice behind layers of mana. Though his father had not been there to witness him grow up, Roland’s voice was similar to Robert’s. The connection could be made, so it had to remain hidden.

The knight, surprisingly, gestured toward one of the side exits of the arena rather than the stairs leading up into the stands. The merchants and lesser n.o.bles were being made to wait here, as they all needed to sign the contract. However, for some reason, Roland wasn’t being given the same treatment. Graham and Laurance had already left, leaving behind their knights and those loyal to Wentworth. The two groups were working together to manage the crowd, but it seemed they had different plans for him - something that could potentially be bad.

The exit he was guided to was the same one Gerhard had used earlier. It first led to the room where he had been preparing - much larger and more lavish than the one Robert had been given. He wondered how the knight knew his way around, but perhaps they had planned for this confrontation and gotten detailed plans of the whole estate. Other members of their group were stationed here as well, scattered throughout the tunnel leading out of the arena. Once outside, Roland could finally grasp the full scale of Wentworth’s entourage. The number of personnel he had brought along was striking.

They were stationed all around the estate, and had even surrounded it. His mapping device was now back to detecting everyone, though he was curious about how they had managed to evade it earlier. It seemed the military had methods to fool even his advanced sensors, something that not even other Tier 3 cla.s.s holders or most magic could do. As he observed them, a growing sense of unease crept over him.

The knight led him to a courtyard behind the estate. It was vast, with towering hedges and ornate statues scattered about. In the center stood Wentworth Arden, still clad in his silvery armor, though his face was now fully revealed. It appeared that Graham had ceded this area to Wentworth for the time being, though the count was nowhere to be seen. Both parties seemed to be watching each other, though tensions had eased. Roland suspected that some kind of unbreakable agreement had been made.

‘They probably signed a temporary non-aggression contract, I’ve read that the army carries a few for situations like this. It wouldn’t be surprising if this had been Wentworth’s plan all along. It would have been nice if he contacted Robert or his wife of his intent…’

Roland was somewhat irritated by how the entire situation had been handled. Had he known his father was on the way with the army, he would never have pushed for the duel. Instead, he would have fought the matter in court. He probably could have postponed the trial without needing to build any power armor. Now, he had exposed his hand to anyone who had witnessed the duel and brought trouble to his doorstep. All of this could have been avoided if his father had shown even a modic.u.m of interest in Robert.

“Please wait here.”

When Roland arrived, he noticed that his father wasn’t alone. Robert, Lucienne, and even Francine were there. It was quite the family reunion, yet something felt off. Mages had cast a silencing spell around the group, but Roland could see and hear through such trivial tricks. Even without using outer spells, his suit could read their lips, and it was clear that Robert was furious. The veins on his neck bulged, and he was shouting loudly, but Wentworth didn’t seem particularly alarmed.

“Father, please reconsider!”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, boy. You shall not meet with that De Vere girl - now or ever.”

Wentworth shook his head, maintaining his stern tone, but Robert didn’t back down, which was surprising. He had just survived a life-and-death battle, and his nerves were frayed. Normally, his brother would have retreated in the face of their overbearing patriarch, but not this time. He stood firm, holding onto his beliefs as he continued to plead.

“How can you say such a thing? You must reconsider! She does not want this, I do not want this!”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening. Graham had struck a deal with Wentworth to keep Robert away from his daughter. He likely agreed to let bygones be bygones, but only under that one condition. Though Robert had won the duel and was now free to pursue his lover, Lucille, this was something Graham deeply disapproved of. Allowing it to continue would only spark a war between the two n.o.ble houses - something neither side wanted. To avoid that, a deal had been made, one that ensured Robert would never pursue her again.

“That’s enough, take him away.”

“Father! You can’t just—”

Before Robert could finish, Wentworth’s patience had run out. He signaled to his knights, who promptly moved to restrain Robert and escort him away.

“Dear please, he is your son, he might still be injured!”

Francine jumped in to protect her son as two men held his arms and dragged him away. Robert was thras.h.i.+ng around in protest but the two men were above his level of strength. Nevertheless, he was still not letting up and thras.h.i.+ng around in an attempt to free himself. The knights that were handling him were starting to have trouble and eventually, he even started to slip away. However, even after freeing one of his arms he quickly found his father standing before him, with his fist embedded in his gut.

“Take him away and keep watch, don’t let him out of your sight until we return.”

Robert slumped forward after a devastating blow to his stomach. His eyes quickly rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious into Wentworth’s arms. Without a word, Wentworth handed his son’s limp body over to the knights, his face devoid of emotion. Francine gasped in horror, reaching out as Robert was dragged away, but a stern look from Wentworth stopped her in her tracks.

“H-how could you? He’s your son!”

She started to sob, her voice trembling but Wentworth replied in a cold tone.

“Francine, enough. This is for his own good. He’ll understand in time.”

Lucienne stood nearby, frozen, watching helplessly as her brother was taken away. Her wide eyes were filled with disbelief, but fear kept her silent. She knew better than to challenge their father, especially at a time like this. Roland, on the other hand, remained still, simply waiting as Robert was hauled out, with Francine following closely behind. Robert would likely be locked away, tossed into a carriage, and sent back to the Arden estate.

‘They might even keep him there until she gets married...’

The situation was spiraling out of control. It was clear Robert had made up his mind, and perhaps Roland was partially to blame. He was the one who had placed the golem in Lucille’s tower, reigniting the flames of their love. Now that Robert had survived the duel and was a free man, he could genuinely ask for her hand in marriage. Perhaps they were even planning to renounce their n.o.ble t.i.tles and vanish together, something neither of their families would tolerate.

The two n.o.ble houses would likely do everything in their power to keep Robert away from Lucille, perhaps even going so far as to threaten her to ensure Lucille proceeded with her arranged marriage. The world of n.o.bility truly didn’t see marriage as nothing more than a way to further their power. They would probably be fine if both saw each other on the side as long as Lucille didn’t take him on as an official husband.

‘This has truly turned into a s.h.i.+t show… Robert deserves better than this,’

Roland thought, gripping his suitcase tighter. His mind was racing with the ramifications of everything that had just happened. Count Graham’s deal with Wentworth ensured that Robert would be cut off from Lucille, but Roland had no illusions. His brother wasn’t the type to give up easily. Especially not now. This wasn’t the end of the story; it was merely another chapter in a growing tragedy. However, before any of that could be addressed, he needed to figure out his own standing first.

Wentworth, still in the courtyard, turned his gaze toward Roland. For a brief moment, their eyes met. His were covered by his metal helmet in an attempt to s.h.i.+eld himself but his father’s were exposed. Wentworth’s eyes were cold and calculating, the kind of look that pierced through anyone daring to stand against him. A part of Roland wondered if his father truly didn’t know who he was or if it was just being tested. Perhaps this was it and there was no use running away anymore.

“Deputy Professor Wayland, was it?”

“Yes…”

“Please, sit.”

It was an uncomfortable situation, to say the least, as one of the knights offered him a chair. They were seated in a temporary area of Count Graham’s estate, near where tea was being served. Wentworth was either being surprisingly cordial or preparing to annihilate him the moment he stepped out of line. Surrounded from every angle, Roland knew that even with all his inventions, there would be no way to escape.

He wanted to gauge his opponents, to read their intentions, but in this setting, it was impossible. The only thing he could do was nod and quietly take his seat. Just as he did, Wentworth instantly started talking and set off quite a bomb inside of his mind.

“I will make this short, I know of your true ident.i.ty...”

Roland’s heartbeat instantly increased as those words left his father’s lips. Wentworth's piercing gaze bore into him, and for a brief moment, Roland felt his carefully constructed world begin to unravel. His first instinct was to deny it, to dismiss his father’s words as a mere bluff, but deep down, he knew. Wentworth wasn’t the kind of man to speak idly or make hollow accusations.

Still, Roland forced himself to remain outwardly calm, leaning back slightly in his chair to mask the tension rising within him. His mind raced through a dozen potential responses, but none felt sufficient. His silence hung heavily in the air as Wentworth continued to speak, each word deliberate and carefully measured.

"I have harbored my suspicions for some time now. First, you approach my daughter, then my son... There can be but one explanation, one reason behind it all - and your silence only confirms that I am right."

Roland’s pulse increased as his heart continued pounding. His ident.i.ty, carefully hidden for years, was now laid bare before the one man he least wanted to know it. Wentworth Arden was no fool, and it seemed Roland had underestimated just how keen his father’s instincts were. There was little point in pretending any longer, yet the thought of revealing the truth he had concealed for so long paralyzed him. Instead, he remained silent and allowed his father to continue.

"I’ll be brief, then. Tell her to stay out of this. I do not require, nor desire, her a.s.sistance."

“... Huh? Excuse me?”

The sentence that left Wentworth's mouth was not something he expected but his father seemed to think that he was just trying to deny it.

"There is no need to conceal it any longer. She commanded you to do this, did she not? Who else would take such an interest in my daughter - or my son? It is all her doing, is it not?"

“I… Uh… yes?”

Roland was genuinely confused by the turn of the conversation. His secret was on the verge of being exposed, but instead, the discussion veered in an unexpected direction. He needed a few seconds to reset his mind and realize what Wentworth was misunderstanding. By “her” he meant the Inst.i.tute leader, Yavenna Arvandus. She was the Inst.i.tute leader and his direct superior, so mistaking his intentions as an order wasn’t that strange. It also seemed that Wentworth was acquainted with her through some means, which made this misunderstanding possible.

Roland felt a wave of relief wash over him; for now, his true ident.i.ty seemed to remain intact. Still, he needed to tread carefully, as Wentworth was no fool and his suspicions were dangerously close to the truth. Roland cleared his throat, choosing his next words with precision.

“I see there’s been a misunderstanding. The Inst.i.tute has its interests, of course, but my involvement with Sir Robert and Lucienne Arden was my decision. I felt it was my duty as a teacher to help…”

Although Yavenna Arvandus made for a convenient scapegoat, Roland didn’t know her well. She was a powerful Tier 4 mage who could easily become enraged if she heard her name being misused. Wentworth knew her to some extent, and there was a chance he might mention Roland’s involvement in the future, so it was best to distance himself from the situation.

"You truly expect me to believe this is mere coincidence? That you’ve woven yourself into my children’s lives, and it has naught to do with her influence? Do you take me for a fool?"

It didn’t seem that his father didn’t believe him. Luckily, he didn’t seem that offended by his claims and instead sent words of commendation.

"It is commendable that you would go to such lengths. I imagine it cannot be easy serving that woman... Let us leave this matter unspoken, then. You have my grat.i.tude for saving both my reckless son and my daughter, Professor Wayland."

Roland didn’t reply and remained silent as it didn’t seem that Wentworth was buying any of it. The words that were spoken carried a strange undercurrent of respect and understanding. It was as if the arch-mage had done something similar to him and he now saw himself in Roland’s shoes. The misunderstanding was deep and perhaps it was better to not say anything if he wouldn’t be believed. If he was asked about it later, he could just claim that Wentworth a.s.sumed something without letting him speak, which was the truth.

"There is no need to thank me, Lord Marshal. I merely did what the situation required."

"You have done far more than what was required. While I do not condone Robert’s reckless actions, you saved him when others failed. And as for Lucienne... I have heard of your dealings with the House of Castellane and their knights. You have risked much for my family, and for that, I shall remain ever in your debt."

Roland was utterly baffled by the situation. He had been bracing himself for exposure in front of his overbearing father, but instead, he was being thanked. Wentworth continued to praise his role in the Viola incident and even seemed aware of the three Cerberus knights he had slain. Now, unexpectedly, he found himself a benefactor of House Arden, with the approval of its Patriarch - something he had neither antic.i.p.ated nor intended.

‘Hah… I just want to go home...’

All he wanted was to cry and leave, but for some reason, his father wouldn’t stop talking. The once stoic figure was starting to unravel as he rambled on about their home and family, leaving Roland even more bewildered.