Aetheric Chronicles: Reborn As An Extra

The royal garden behind the castle was a place of serene beauty. The moon hung high above, casting its silvery light over the meticulously maintained greenery. Rows of blooming nocturnal flowers filled the air with a subtle, sweet fragrance, and the sound of a gently flowing fountain echoed faintly in the still night. But despite the tranquil setting, the two figures walking side by side carried an air of tension that seemed to weigh down the atmosphere itself. Experience tales with empire

Adrian's stride was calm, his hands clasped behind his back as he matched the King's deliberate pace. The silence between them stretched long, broken only by the crunch of their footwear against the gravel path. For a moment, it seemed as though neither man intended to speak, each lost in his own thoughts.

It was the King who finally broke the awkward quiet.

"So," he said, his voice deep but carrying a faint warmth, "have you thought about what reward you'd like for your victory in the tournament?"

Adrian chuckled lightly, the sound low and almost sardonic. "I can tell you," he replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes, "but can you give it to me?"

The King laughed heartily, his deep voice resonating in the open space. "Of course I can," he said with the confidence of a man who held absolute power. "I can give you anything you want—money, lands, women..." He paused, smirking. "Or," he added, chuckling, "if you're truly ambitious, I could even adopt you as my son. How about that?"

Adrian's laughter joined the King's for a brief moment, but his eyes, sharp and cold as a blade, glimmered with something else entirely. "Will the same fate as Aurelius wait for me, then?" he asked, his tone calm, almost conversational.

The King stopped laughing abruptly.

The air around them seemed to freeze, the warmth of their previous exchange dissipating like mist under the cold glare of moonlight. He halted his steps, forcing Adrian to do the same. Turning his head slightly, the King regarded Adrian with an expression that was hard to read.

He sighed, pretending to adopt a solemn, almost mournful tone. "You can't blame me entirely for that, boy," he said, shaking his head. "Do you think I wanted to neglect my oldest child? To leave him to suffer? You don't know how difficult it is to be king and a father at the same time."

Adrian remained silent, his expression neutral, but the faint arch of his brow suggested skepticism.

"I did everything I could for him," the King continued. "He was gravely ill, you know? He was born with an unknown illness that would kill him after he became an adult. I brought famous healers and Awakeners from across the continent, and spared no expense. I fed him the best medicines money could buy. But... I couldn't focus on him alone. I had other children to think about—children with futures ahead of them, unlike him, who faced certain death."

The King's voice grew softer, tinged with a performance of regret. "Still, I wanted him to be happy. That's why I arranged his engagement with your sister. You probably misunderstood that decision, but I knew my son. He wouldn't have touched her. After his death, she would have been free. Yet you broke up with your only family, sigh..." He paused, casting a glance at Adrian, whose face remained impassive. "But then," the King added with a faint, almost wistful smile, "a miracle happened. He survived. He is now alive, living healthily. Haha, life, boy, is truly unpredictable."

Adrian nodded as if in agreement, murmuring a soft, "I see." He added a thoughtful, "Is that so?" here and there, but his mind churned with a different narrative.

He knew too well that the King was weaving a tapestry of lies, skillfully hiding the truth behind carefully chosen words. It was true the King had summoned healers, but Adrian understood the ulterior motives behind those actions. As for the engagement between Aurelius and Aurelia, it had been nothing more than a calculated move to swallow their family's influence—a ploy Adrian had thwarted, albeit at a cost.

And yet, one thing the King said resonated as true: life was indeed unpredictable. Even if one could see the future.

Adrian himself was living proof of that.

Finally, Adrian halted his steps, turning to face the King fully. "Your Majesty," he said, his voice steady, "we both know the truth. Why pretend?"

The King stopped as well, his expression hardening ever so slightly. Slowly, he turned to meet Adrian's gaze, his piercing eyes narrowing. "Why do you have to be this foolish?" he muttered, his voice low. "Would it kill you to pretend?"

Adrian's response came with cool indifference. "I am not like you," he said. "I don't say one thing while thinking another."

The King's smile vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating look. For a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. "Tell me, Adrian," the King said, his tone sharp, "do you think I was the one who killed your parents?"

Adrian said nothing, his gaze steady, unflinching.

The King took a step closer, his presence towering. "Then," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "do you believe that I could kill you right here and now?"

Adrian's silence remained, his eyes locked onto the King's without a hint of fear. The message in his gaze was clear, almost a challenge:

Try me.

The two men stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills. The King's expression darkened, but then, to Adrian's surprise, a genuine laugh burst from his lips. The sound was rich, almost joyful, and it echoed through the garden.

"You really are the same as your father," the King said, his laughter dying down. He regarded Adrian with an odd mixture of amusement and respect. "Fearless... and foolish."

Adrian's lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained cold. "If this makes us foolish, you might be the most foolish one then."

"Huh?"