Ascension Of The Villain

Chapter 253 My Grandson

The heat of Preaton was relentless, a far cry from the cool, shadowed woods of Ashstone, wrapped in the dense mystery of the Forest of Beasts.

The sun blazed down on Vyan and Clyde as they wound through the bustling streets, their strides sluggish under the intensity of the midday warmth. Vyan, who was in the appearance of a common-looking man, found himself unbottoning the top buttons of his shirt, which now clung to him like a second, unwelcome layer.

Clyde, fanning himself with exaggerated motions, cast a half-hearted glare toward Vyan. "I have to hand it to you, my lord, picking Preaton for a field trip? Genius idea. Why not choose somewhere with a roasting pit and get it over with?"

Vyan snorted, wiping his forehead. "It's called 'commitment to a cause,' Clyde. Though I admit, I didn't expect to find us in the heart of a desert masquerading as a city."

He glanced around, but the narrow streets offered little shade, just waves of heat rising from the cobblestones and the distant clamor of market stalls, alive with vendors hawking colorful wares.

"If we keep at this, we will be fried by sundown," he muttered under his breath.

Clyde let out a dramatic sigh. "Remind me again why we are here?

Even the oppressive heat seemed to simmer in deference. Reluctantly, Vyan inclined his head as well, hoping to not stick out.

Yet, as Eryndor neared, he halted. Vyan stiffened, sensing his grandfather's gaze on him. His heart pounded, but his face remained impassive, save for the glint of loathing that sparkled in his dulled eyes.

"Raise your head," Eryndor commanded.

With a slow motion, Vyan did as he was told, meeting Eryndor's gaze with the cool intensity of ice meeting fire. His eyes were devoid of warmth, the look in them brimming with an utter lack of respect, a daring challenge etched into every unspoken word.

A faint, unnatural chuckle slipped from Eryndor's lips, as though the very idea of laughter was foreign to him. "Curious," he murmured, a faint hint of amusement breaking through his stern facade. "For some reason, you remind me of my grandson."

The words twisted inside Vyan, and for a brief, raw moment, his fists clenched at his sides, barely resisting the urge to spit out a scathing reply. "Which one?" He was most likely talking about Ronan—the only one he considered his grandson.

"The middle one," he answered without hesitation. "He is the one who has this stubborn, unyielding look in his eyes, like you do."

"Is that so?" Vyan replied coolly, the calm in his voice masking the storm roiling beneath his calm exterior.

Eryndor's gaze lingered a second longer, his mouth curving into a faint, knowing smile. He continued on his way, leaving Vyan in his wake.

Only when Eryndor was far down the street did Vyan release a slow, trembling breath. His fists unclenched as he flexed his fingers, as though to shake away the lingering disdain he felt.

Clyde let out a long, exaggerated sigh of relief. "You didn't explode," he murmured, though there was genuine relief in his tone. "Honestly, I thought you might set him on fire right there."

Vyan's lips twitched, the trace of a bitter smile pulling at his mouth. "Believe me, I thought about it."

Clyde let out a low whistle, clapping Vyan on the shoulder with a wry grin. "Restraint looks good on you, my lord. I almost didn't recognize you."

Vyan scoffed, shrugging off Clyde's hand. "Don't get used to it. Next time, it might not be an illusion hiding my face."

"Well, then, let's hope we don't have to see him again."

Unfortunately, Clyde's hope didn't come true.

As they finally found some news on the acupuncturist, they also learned that he didn't interact with unknown people.

"Master Jin has gotten old. These days, he is very selective about the people he meets. Unless someone close to him vouches for them, he never meets them," said the vendor.

"So, are you close to him? Can you vouch for us?" Clyde asked, flashing him a charming smile.

The vendor rolled his eyes. "First of all, does it look like someone like me can be friends with someone of that caliber? Secondly, why would I vouch for you? Do I know you or what?"

Vyan huffed and shoved Clyde to the side. "Then, how about you tell us about someone who is actually close to Master Jin?"

"Huh, how would I know about every contact that caveman has?" the vendor scoffed. "So, unless you are related to Duke Preaton, start heading back to your home because you will just be wasting time with him."

Vyan's eyes widened. "Are you saying that the duke is… close to Master Jin?"

"Of course! They have known each other for decades," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Clyde glanced at Vyan nervously and asked, already knowing what it meant, "What are you going to do about it?"