The Legendary Fool : A Deckbuilding LITRPG

“How do you- who are you!?” Zirel croaked out in a melange between a distressed cry and an enraged scream.

It was one thing to have a secret leaked. And similarly, it was easy to isolate the cause if the damage was limited to a single lapse in judgment. But Tom had just spoken Zirel’s most closely guarded secrets out loud and done so nonchalantly at that, making his words no less than a verbal assault.

An assault that sent the Fourth Prince of the Syrelore Kingdom reeling, as all traces of composure vanished from his flabbergasted tone.

“What in the name of Aerianiculumn is this supposed to be?” Aleph’s tone was harsh and bitter as she stepped into the first crucible, her instinctive hatred of the Nobles managing to outclass the shock she felt at the revelation.

Tom noticed that Aleph had already activated her signature [Shardweave Regalia], the robust crystal-weave armor shielding all her vitals, except for the face. The vizor was missing and from the scandalized look on her face, that decision was very much conscious.

It also meant that her distinctive silver hair was in full view of both Tom and Zirel.

“You…,” Zirel trailed off as he hurriedly retreated by a few paces. “You really are…,” His expression paled, but Tom couldn’t read any fear in Zirel’s gaze. No, it was a profound disbelief that bordered on disassociation, almost as if he had seen a ghost.

“Alive?” Aleph’s rhetorical question dripped with such malice that even Tom could feel a chill crawl down his spine. “No thanks to your father, prince,” She uttered the title with complete disgust, her eyes glowering with a hatred that spoke of her readiness to kill.

Zirel said nothing in response, only summoning his Phantom Blade in response. With the uncommon artifact [Blade of Necrosis] and his Soul Card’s [Phantom Blade] working in tandem, the fourth prince was a terrifying opponent even if you understood how his abilities worked.

But that wasn’t the real reason why Tom was reluctant to fight him.

Zirel’s willpower had not only surpassed his own, but it had even gone on to suppress it. Never had Tom felt so helpless in another dungeoneer’s Maya before, never had he been so thoroughly defeated.

Zirel Covan Nottrakon was no sheltered prince and Tom had no intention of underestimating him.

“I don’t know how you found his true identity,” Aleph began, her gaze remaining firmly trained on Zirel. “But thank you. I can now finally, finally avenge my parents,” Her voice cracked a little near the end of her declaration and Tom couldn’t help but feel a rush of sympathy for his friend.

“If you kill him, you would be doing the Nottrakon Family a favor,” Tom said, his words spoken without any judgment or reprimand.

Aleph was clearly shaken by his statement. Her lips parted, only for her to realize that the angry retort that she wanted to lash out with now willfully eluded her.

She hadn’t survived up until this point without the ability to maintain a cool head in stressful situations and she would not allow her rage to get the better of her now— not when she was so tantalizingly close to achieving her goals.

Though she could not deny being both bewildered and a little intimidated by how easily Tom had exposed a veritable prince in hiding, none of his actions had suggested any ill-will or malice towards her. If Tom wanted to betray her, all he needed to do was withhold Zirel’s true identity from her and let her lead the charge unwittingly towards an opponent many leagues stronger than what she thought him to be.

In truth, the moment Tom revealed Zirel’s true name and heritage, she was inclined to believe him. There was no Noble Family in the Syrelore Kingdom that hadn’t heard of the Nottrakon Family’s barbaric ascension traditions. Only the strongest amongst each generation’s heirs and heiresses was to ascend and the rest, destined to fall by their bloodied hand.

Covan Nottrakon I might have tamped down on the bloodshed, but he was no fool. The other Noble Families both respected and feared the Nottrakon Family for their willingness to go one step beyond, the ruthlessness they were willing to show to their own kin merely a fraction of the horrors they would inflict upon outsiders daring to impugn upon their rule.

In the eyes of most other Noble Families, there was no need to go to such lengths for what would always remain an honorary position.

The real power and authority was concentrated in the Aerianiculumn, the intensity of its convergence matched only by the danger found within. Most of the Nobles governing the surface world had no intention of subjecting themselves to such hardships, finding it far more convenient to safely amass strength and ensure that their scions were well-trained and equipped regardless of the path they chose.

The ambitious amongst the Noble Scions would choose to ascend, ensuring that the Noble Family’s interests would be represented in the Aerianiculumn, while the rest would ensure that order is maintained in the surface world, which remained a valuable source of talent for the tower.

The reason why the other Noble Families had conspired against the Longstradia Family was because they no longer had any backers left in the Aerianiculumn after their ancestor met an untimely death. The hateful Nottrakon Family had led that charge and subsequently reaped a lion’s share in the benefits and those Aleph’s family had believed allies watched silently as the carnage ensued.

That was simply the nature of the Nobility that ruled over the surface world—- a scourge that sought to enrich itself by any means possible.

If it had not been the Nottrakon Family, it would have been a coalition of other Noble Families. And as the reigning hegemon, they could naturally not allow the power balance to shift.

Perhaps Tom’s words were true.

Perhaps Zirel was truly divorced from his family due to its barbaric traditions.

Did it truly matter though?

There was a time when Aleph dreaded even an action as simple as closing her eyes. She still heard the echoes of fragmented screams as members of her extended family, her kin, cried out in agony only to have their silent pleas cut short. She remembered the flickers of nauseatingly bright lights, could still smell the acrid smoke from the numerous fires that had erupted across the Longstradia Family estate, both natural and alchemical and most of all, she remembered the fear that she bore as an indelible scar upon her soul.

Zirel was almost certainly not responsible for the decision to attack the Longstradia estate. But he had certainly benefited from the Nottrakon Family’s wealth.

So once again, did the truth even matter?

It was surprisingly, Zirel, who interrupted the tense silence that had befallen their three-way standoff.

A slow chuckle blossomed into full blown laughter as Zirel’s gaze shifted from Tom to Aleph, before finally settling on Tom again.

“It is as you say,” Zirel’s words cut through the silence with the cold precision of an assassin’s dagger. “It would have been one thing if you were to have unearthed my identity, for as through as I try to be, some evidence is bound to inevitably slip past my defenses. But the nature of your expose is so damning, so hauntingly preternatural that I have no choice but to concede the possibility of a clairvoyance-based Soul Card. And yet….,” He muttered thoughtfully, the intelligence behind his alabaster-white eyes evident.

“....And yet, you are certainly no ally of my brother’s. Not with your rather daring choice in camaraderie. I have no inclination to fight the keeper of such a powerful Soul Card and the heiress of the Longstradia Family in combat and I do not consider the enemies of the Nottrakon Family as my enemies.”

“You-,” Tom began, only to be abruptly cut off by Zirel.

“But, know this— I, Zirel Covan Nottrakon, will not run away from the weight of the bloodline that I carry. The Longstradia Family has suffered enough and I do not wish to commit the sin of snuffing out its final kindling of hope. Though I will— if I must. For today is not the day I am fated to die,” Both Tom and Aleph watched cautiously as Zirel raised his open palm to the skies, his expression devoid of any malice.

A second later, his [Phantom Blade] materialized, it’s tip directed towards the skies.

“Only after I have reached the final floor of the Tower of Endless Horizons and seen all that this realm has to offer, am I allowed to fall in battle. So make your decision, Clairvoyant, Longstradia. Leave and you shall never find me in this wretched kingdom again, for no Soul Card is absolute. Stay and I shall grant you a painless departure, a mercy offered to you by virtue of your family’s service to this land.”