Free Web NovelChapter 20: The Lonely Storyteller.
As I thought about everything I had just learned, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
"Hahahahahaha!"
I burst into uncontrollable laughter.
It was too funny... too damn funny.
The Ironblood Duke, those idiotic nobles and every self-important fool who believed themselves superior because of their bloodline were all nothing more than a joke.
Meanwhile, the old man shifted uneasily.
"Did I say something wrong, oh great sir?"
"Nah, you said nothing wrong." I waved my hand dismissively. "Though I am curious. What kind of knowledge was a storyteller like you planning to impart after waiting here for so many years?"
I paused for a moment.
"And more importantly..." My eyes narrowed. "If you were really such a coward, why did you go to the final battle knowing it would likely kill you?"
The old man fell silent and then he looked up at the sky.
"I had no choice." For the first time since meeting him, his voice lost its usual theatrics. "Even if this great personality was weak and cowardly, I was still a member of my friends’ party."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"How could I let them face a monster like that alone?" He chuckled softly. "And besides... How would their stories have survived if this great personality wasn’t there to tell them?"
The smile on his face became somewhat lonely.
"So I went for the sake of stories that should never be forgotten but unfortunately... we all met our end that day to stop the monster from invading our home."
His eyes slowly closed.
"The knowledge I wished to pass on was the story of that battle and the art of storytelling itself." He let out a quiet sigh. "I believed my house remained the great Runbringer family and the descendants who carried on the legacy of stories I left behind but it seems I was wrong and many things seem to have changed in all those years."
I would have patted his shoulder if I could touch his form but unfortunately, I couldn’t. So instead, I slumped onto the ground as a wide smile spread across my face.
"Tell me the stories." I looked up at him. "And tell me the knowledge you wished to pass down. Although I couldn’t promise to spread them to others since the times had changed far too much for that but for waiting alone in this space for so many years, this is the only justice I can offer you."
Not to mention the amount of leverage those stories could provide against certain arrogant nobles in the future.
I wisely kept that last thought to myself.
The old man froze and for a brief moment, he simply stared at me, then a bright smile slowly spread across his face and without wasting another second, he began his tale.
***
Time passed as the old man recounted one adventure after another in his usual dramatic style and honestly, I had to give him credit.
Despite his ridiculous behavior, he was one hell of a storyteller.
The way he could narrate even the most trivial events without ever making me lose interest was impressive in its own right. Most of his stories, however, weren’t actually about himself. They were about his friends, the founders of the nine founding ducal families and the first Holy Emperor.
He always seemed happiest whenever he spoke about them.
I listened to every story with genuine curiosity and occasionally asked questions whenever I didn’t understand something. Each time, he answered patiently and without the slightest hint of annoyance.
I truly couldn’t understand where things had gone wrong.
How had the Runbringers ended up becoming the cold bastards they were today when their founder had been someone so surprisingly gentle?
But then again, power had always been like that. Leave it in someone’s hands for long enough and even the kindest person could become corrupted, though there were always some exceptions and the old man was proof of that.
Still, despite everything he told me, something still felt off.
Why had he left behind a fragment of his soul for so many years? Even if his goal had truly been to pass on knowledge, this seemed far too inefficient.
And more importantly...
For someone who constantly called himself a coward, he didn’t seem regretful about dying that day.
But I held back my curiosity for the time being and continued listening.
By now, he had already told me many different stories about the adventures his friends had experienced across the continent of Veloria. Unfortunately, most of them contained little information that would be genuinely useful.
Still, I had learned quite a few ridiculous things.
Like how the first Holy Emperor remained a pervert until the very end. How the founder of the Draven Ducal Family spent half his life being jealous of the Emperor. How the first Duchess of the Sylvania Family somehow fell in love with a dragon and how the Dukedom of Volcanus had been established atop a mountain surrounded by volcanoes because its founder was a complete masochist.
None of this information had much practical value but it was ridiculous enough to keep me entertained.
Only after he finished all of his stories did he finally stop as if to catch his breath. Not that a soul should have needed to do something like that.
"Did you enjoy the stories, oh great sir?!"
He looked at me expectantly.
I answered with a bright smile.
"They were genuinely interesting."
The old man’s chest swelled with pride.
"But there is still one story you haven’t told me."
My smile widened slightly as the founder immediately stiffened.
"What might you be talking about, oh great sir?"
"I am talking about your story."
The old man’s expression froze.
"You told me all about your friends, their adventures and their victories but not once did you tell me a story about yourself."
Silence fell between us as I continued calmly.
"Why did you leave behind a fragment of your soul for something that could have been passed down through some other method?"
My gaze remained fixed on him.
"And why..."
The old man’s shoulders tensed.
"...do you not seem sad about your own death?"
"Also, don’t try to lie." I smiled. "I can tell immediately when you do. Just like I knew you were lying when you said you remained here to impart knowledge."
The founder’s face darkened instantly and a moment later, he actually tried to run but before he could disappear, my bloodlust thickened.
His body froze in place.
To leave behind a soul fragment, a medium was always required and for him to vanish, he would first have to return to that medium and destroy it from within.
Unfortunately for him, I already knew what it was as I calmly walked across the snow-covered landscape before stopping beside an unremarkable white stone half-buried beneath the blanket of snow. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm
Then I picked it up and casually tossed it in my hand.
The founder’s expression immediately turned pale because unfortunately for him, his little act had already been exposed.
Honestly, even I had been convinced at first. Halfway through his stories, I had genuinely started believing that he had left behind this fragment of his soul simply to share stories and pass down knowledge. frёewebnoѵēl.com
But the longer he talked, the more obvious it became.
He wasn’t prepared.
The stories flowed naturally enough for me to know that they were true but there was a strange hesitation whenever he spoke. It felt less like he was carrying out a plan he had prepared centuries ago and more like he was improvising excuses on the spot.
Which meant one thing.
Telling stories had never been the reason he stayed behind.
So, what was it?!
