Chapter 50

Repeat Offenders

Sylas was humming. Perhaps for the first time since actually coming to this world, he was worry-free. He was happy. Content. One could even say he was magical. As it turned out, after all, the ability to use magic did stay through the loop. Granted, he had to ‘re-feel’ the energy all over again, but considering he knew how to do it, instead of taking hours, it took minutes. Technically speaking, he was a mage. A wizard. In his soul, he could hear a collective, envious cry of hundreds of millions of people from Earth. And it fulfilled him.

Nonetheless, just because he could summon a tiny ball of light that would literally kill him if he used it for longer than five seconds didn’t mean all his problems were solved. Among them, however, one stood out—finding out who was Dyn’s coconspirator. All else aside, he first had to figure out how to deal with the bandits and the criminals and the like. While Derrek was an interesting point to pursue, it was moot if there was an invasion hanging over their heads.

As such, he decided to play out his current loop as close to the one where first met Dyn as possible. He wanted to replicate all the major bits, namely the timing of the 'ball', where he stood, and his conversation with Dyn in which the two set up a meet at the big hole. It wasn't easy, actually, since he'd forgotten some portions of it—as such, he had to restart the loop twice before getting it right.

However, he didn’t waste those two loops—besides continuously refining his magic, allowing him to hold the sphere for up to twenty seconds without dying at his peak, he also continued to learn about talismans from Ryne. In fact, she also taught him how to use magic—but, to Sylas’ disappointment, it was pretty much the same path as the one Derrek taught him—the power of visualizing. Though he managed to stun Ryne with how quickly he ‘grasped’ the basics, inside, he was feeling quite bitter as his dreams of being a dual-elemental-whatever mage were crushed.

Learning magic did further increase his knowledge when it came to talismans—in fact, he was even capable of drawing up some of the most basic ones. Though his success rate was beyond abysmal, tear-inducing even, standing at the staggering one in a thousand, according to Ryne, that was perfectly normal as, until one’s hand is learned of the symbols and movements, most talismans that do come out right come out so through pure luck, her own beginnings included.

The two loops, altogether, were quite bountiful, but they also taught Sylas a very, very valuable lesson—time management. Though it sounded like it made no sense—someone who could live infinitely within a loop needing to learn time management—there was a lesson there. Sylas wasn't keen on limit testing his repeats. In fact, each time he died, there was a singular part of him that felt terror that death would be his last. That was why he tried squeezing a single loop as much as possible before resetting it unless some factors altered the reality of things a bit too much so that he couldn't gain what he was after.

That was also why he always decided to save when offered. If the pattern was to continue, the loops would only grow longer and longer, points between save times extended further and further. He knew there’d be time to just lounge about and dedicate months if not years to something specifically before resetting. For now, however, loops were too short and his ability to learn was too constrained. He’d already gone through a good chunk of the books in the library, most of which were just boring, dull, historical fan-fictions, really, about the supposed legendary figures who could do legendary things. As with most history books, it was desperately trying to make the past seem far better than it actually was, and Sylas was hardly a fan.

Furthermore, even if he did repeat a single loop over and over, there was still a limit to how much he could learn, doubly by the merit of how much there was to learn out here, but also due to the limitations of his own psyche. He’d been at this loop quite a few times, and he was already getting bored with a lot of things about it. Everything was slowly beginning to seem the same. Outside his personal interference, the world was… dull. Single-minded, even.

Standing on the wall, shivering in the cold, Sylas wondered, for manieth time by now… what was his purpose in this place? Even if him being selected was random, just a chance that someone from the Earth got plucked up and put here, there had to have been a reason for it. Was it really just to put Valen on the Throne? He didn’t know. In fact, a part of him didn’t want to know. As much help as the system was, the truth also was that it removed all agency Sylas had. Since he had to rely on it to survive in the unknown world, he had to follow its instructions. And that limited what he could do.

Noticing it was about the time, he went down once again to take a piss and waited by the gates until he saw two figures approach and kick them open. Despite the fact that they should have made the sound, the blizzard was so loud and strong that likely nobody outside of those two even heard the gates open. Perhaps they felt them underneath their boots, but as common soldiers weren’t warned of the traitors inside due to the morale, their first thought likely wouldn’t be ‘ah, somebody opened the castle gates’.

Just like before, Sylas followed behind, a sword in tow. As far as Dyn was aware, he was just a conman who somehow got the Prince on his side, with no discernible skills. Sylas planned on using that point to strike at the young man while he was being underestimated and use that brief respite to uncloak the other figure, see who it was. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but it was the simplest—and if he could do it that way, he would. If not, then he’d simply restart and bring five-six other people the next time around and just capture the two.

Dyn and the other figure entered the abandoned storage room, with Sylas following right after. He was also curious as to whether Dyn was truly after the Shard so he could capture Derrek, and whether Sylas’ original conjunction was correct, or if he was completely off-base and Dyn’s motives were completely different.

“Who goes there?! Ah, it’s merely you,” Dyn’s voice quickly crackled as the young man unhooded himself. Ah, if only the other dude had as much of a hard-on for showing off… Sylas mused. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, for someone who puts on a clever front, you certainly make moronic moves. Ha ha ha. What? Did you want to play the hero by capturing the traitors who opened the gates?! To curry even more favor with that prince?! Ha ha ha, ha ha ha, that is demented! Demented!” No, no, the only thing that’s demented here is you, man.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m only curious—why are you after the Shard?” Dyn’s countenance immediately changed, from that of a proud and aloof man who had everything in control to a panicked and stuttering youth whose entire world seemed to have collapsed in a second.

“H-h-how… w-what are you talking about?! What shard?! H-have you gone senile? Senile!” Eh? What the hell? Why the sudden shift? Shouldn’t he have gone the cliché ‘ah, you’re smart to have figured it out, but ‘insert my plan here’ is even smarter!’ route?

“That rock-like thing in the corner,” Sylas said. “One that supposedly can capture members of your Order.”

“…” Dyn’s eyes widened as his entire body began to shake. “W-who are you? Who… who sent you? Did… did Asydia send you? No, no, she definitely thinks I am dead! That fool Derrek? No, he’s too proud to even consider he’s failed! Who… who are you?! Answer me at once!” Oooookay, from the sounds of it, he wasn’t planning on capturing Derrek. Now, once again, his actions make no sense.

“If you answer me why you told me,” Sylas said. “Why you warned me of all of this. If your goal was the rock, you could have just snuck in here and took it. So, why risk it?”

“… heh, idiot,” Dyn snickered for a moment, seemingly trying to regain his brevity once again. “Both you and the criminal bunch. I just needed the castle emptied, is all. As for why… pu. Don’t pretend you don’t know. If you know about who I am and about the Shard… now it’s your turn. Who are you? Who sent you here?”

“… who is that?” Sylas, knowing full well he didn’t have a satisfying answer to give, instead pointed at the solitary figure in the room who remained silent.

“Huh? What’s it matter?! Answer me!”

“I won’t unless you tell me who that is,” Sylas persisted.

“Bah, it’s one of your Captains,” Ah, Sylas groaned. “Te-te-Te something, I don’t know.”

“It’s Tebek!” Ah, goddammit dude! The captain yelled out and unmasked himself, staring angrily at Dyn. “I thought part of the agreement was that you wouldn’t expose me!”

“It’s too late now anyway, so who cares? There you go, I answered all your questions. Now, you need to answer mine—or I shall kill you where you stand!”

“Tebek… dude, really?! FUCKING REALLY?!” Sylas completely ignored Dyn and turned toward the red-faced captain. “First—first it was the fuckin’ wall,”

“Wait, how do you—”

“AND IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH,” Sylas roared. “Now… now this?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! No, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?! Did someone scramble your brain?!”

“YES!!!” Tebek roared back, his voice sounding less enraged and more simply… terrified. “Of course… of course it has!! I… I heard you!! I heard you talking! In the forest!” Oh, no… “What you saw, what you found way up there, in the north. I heard it! An army… an army of the dead? One pitiful invasion nearly ended us! And… and you’re telling me there’s an army coming?! Of course… of course I want to leave! But if I leave… I’d be labeled a deserter! The worst bunch! I—I had no choice! No choice!”

"…" Sylas sighed, realizing that there was no return. Tebek, much like Dyn, would have to die. In part, it was because he kept betraying the castle, but mostly it was because he knew—and it was unlikely he'd keep his yap closed forever. Eventually, he'd leave far enough to where his fears would subside. And then… and then he'd talk. Even if just one person in a thousand believed it, one by one… it will grow.

“Miserable,” Sylas said. “All of this is miserable. Goddammit,” he reached into his pocket and took out a knife, stabbing himself in the throat. His plans, once again, needed to be reworked. Not to mention the fact that he still didn’t know why Dyn did what he did. I need to trick him differently in the next loop so he'll yap about it instead of just assuming I know… haaah, fuck my life…