The sun had begun its descent toward the horizon, casting long shadows across Callista's estate. Inside the mansion, Aric worked tirelessly, carving intricate pathways through walls and sealing them seamlessly to ensure the wiring remained hidden yet functional. His brow glistened with sweat, his hands trembling slightly as he focused intently on each detail.
I have been at this for nearly 6 hours and I barely made any progress in the hall. Well...it is a big hall but this is so tiring!
I have to take into account of the inner wall, the pathways then to reattached again the paint that was on it, making sure it appeared as if nothing happened.
God I wish the dwarves were here. They can be doing the inner walls even if it takes longer than Thorin.
Who knew Matter Manipulation required precision—far more than Creation Magic ever did? While conjuring things was like second nature, reshaping existing materials? This shit is intense and I need to concentrate 10x more here.
Over time, the effort began taking a visible toll. Aric's movements slowed, his breathing grew laboured, and a dull ache throbbed relentlessly at the base of his skull.
Ugh. My head hurts. I feel like I have a migraine or something.
[You're pushing yourself too hard.] Ivy warned with visible care in her face,
[Even your mana reserves have limits, especially when you're stressing your brain like this.]
I don't have a choice. Aric replied mentally, gritting his teeth as he sealed another section of wall.
If I stop now, everything falls behind schedule, I have to stay in this sex house longer and I lose my momentum.
He ignored the growing pain, forcing himself to focus on the next step. His vision blurred momentarily, but he shook it off, determined to finish explaining the process to the staff.
Aric called for the big men, Selena and Callista to join him in the main hall. When they arrived, he conjured stacks of materials needed for the power grid: bundles of vertical wires, stabilizers (compact devices designed to regulate energy flow), screwdrivers, screws, and sturdy ladders. A floating blueprint materialized above the supplies, detailing every step of the installation process.
This practically feel likes a break to my brain.
"Here's how it works." Aric explained, his voice steady despite his fatigue,
"These wires need to connect directly from the generator to every corner of the estate. Use these stabilizers along the way—they'll regulate the current and prevent overload."
Callista raised an eyebrow, examining one of the stabilizers curiously.
"And what about my magic? You mentioned you wanted to use it a couple hours ago."
"Yes." Aric nodded,
"Your gravity magic can help secure connections in tight spaces or lift heavier components without damaging the wiring. Just… be careful not to crush anything."
She smirked lazily, clearly amused by his instructions. "I'm always careful."
Aric turned to the others, demonstrating how to use the tools effectively. He climbed a ladder briefly to show how to anchor wires securely into place, emphasizing the importance of insulation and proper alignment.
The butlers and maid listened attentively, nodding as if they understood—or at least pretended to.
Once satisfied, Aric dismissed them to begin their tasks. As they dispersed, he leaned heavily against the nearest wall, closing his eyes briefly to steady himself. The throbbing in his head intensified, making it difficult to think clearly.
Hah...Hah...fuck. The mental strain is getting to me.
NO! Remember your time as a soldier, you never sleep, you fought for days on end. Don't be a fucking pussy.
Penelope watched worriedly from the sidelines as Aric swayed unsteadily. She exchanged a glance with Evelyn, who frowned deeply, concern etched onto her face.
"He's going to collapse if he keeps this up." Penelope whispered anxiously.
"Shouldn't someone stop him?"
Evelyn hesitated, glancing between Aric and Seraphina, who stood nearby observing silently.
"If anyone can make him listen, it's Lady Seraphina. But convincing her to care might be another challenge entirely."
As if on cue, Aric staggered forward, clutching his head. Before anyone could react, his knees buckled, and he fell,
Fuck. I hope the floor is so..ft..
[Dammit Aric! You have been using matter manipulation for hours on end! Oh no...] Ivy ran off from the screen to her files.
''Aric, there's no cure for stubbornness or using an ability you barely even train! Let alone using it for nearly 10 hours straight!''
''Where is it...'' Ivy rummaging through the files and throwing it everywhere.
In the real world, only 2 second had past since Aric gave out and was still falling. Then, almost instantly, Seraphina stepped forward, her shadow tendrils snaking out to catch him before he hit the ground.
Her expression had a flicker of irritation mixed with reluctant concern.
This fucking man.
"That's enough." she said sharply, lifting him effortlessly with her tendril,
"You're no use to anyone if you collapse completely."
Aric struggled weakly against her hold, muttering protests under his breath.
"I'm fine… I just need a minute…"
"No." Seraphina interrupted firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"That's an order, Vayne. Stop pushing yourself."
To everyone's surprise, Aric retorted faintly,
"You don't get it… This isn't something I can afford to delay…"
Unbeknownst to the others, Aric activated his healing magic directly to his brain. Attempting to alleviate the pounding headache overwhelming his senses.
What the hell Aric? As Ivy finally got a hold on a file named 'Overdrive', she ran back to her desk in a hurry.
Ivy intervened immediately, her voice stern within his mind,
[Stop it right now!] she scolded harshly.
[You can't heal your brain like that! It's not designed to repair itself instantly! You're a human Aric! Not a robot. Pushing beyond your limits will only cause permanent damage.]
But...
[FUCK YOUR DEADLINE ALRIGHT! DEACTIVATE IT RIGHT NOW!]
Ivy realised that yelling wasn't going to do anything and calms down,
[I'm sorry for yelling...I am just worried. Aric listen to me, you're not here just as a fixer okay. Stop pushing yourself like this. Healing your brain with magic will only cause long term effects on you. Please listen to me, I'm your guide am I not?]
Her words struck a chord, forcing him to consciously deactivate the magic. Despite this, his body trembled with exhaustion, his mana reserves depleted so much, he was nearing at 0 despite the fact he had SS tier reserves.
Seeing his condition worsen, Seraphina sighed irritably, tightening her control over the tendrils supporting him.
"Where can we rest?" she asked Penelope,
"Somewhere quiet where he won't disturb anyone—or vice versa."
Penelope hurried forward, gesturing toward a nearby corridor.
"There's a guest suite down this hallway. It's spacious and private. I'll prepare it immediately."
With that, Seraphina carried Aric effortlessly toward the designated room, her dark magic keeping him suspended mid-air. Behind her, Evelyn followed closely.
Once inside the suite, Seraphina lowered Aric gently onto the plush bed, releasing her grip as soon as he was settled. She lingered beside him, studying his pale face and ragged breathing.
"What are you searching for?" she muttered under her breath, turning away abruptly.
"Penelope, could you fetch water and food? Evelyn, monitor his condition. If he wakes up and tries to leave, stop him."
"Yes, your grace." both women replied simultaneously, bowing respectfully before carrying out her orders.
10.00p.m.
The room was cloaked in shadows, save for the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the window. The faint sound of Aric's shallow breathing filled the silence, a stark contrast to the chaos that had defined their day.
Seraphina settled into the chair previously occupied by Evelyn. Her gloved hands rested lightly in her lap, but her sharp blue eyes never left the unconscious man before her.
For the first time all evening, there were no distractions—no arguments, no seductive rivals vying for attention, no echoes of Callista's insufferable antics reverberating through the halls.
Just him, her, and the quiet hum of tension hanging heavy in the air.
And so, she spoke aloud, her voice low and contemplative, tinged with bitterness and reluctant curiosity.
"What if I just killed him?" she mused darkly, tilting her head slightly as though considering the logistics of such an act.
"It's not like anyone would blame me. He ruined my life—my reputation, my finances, my sanity. All because of his reckless stupidity."
Her lips curled into a humourless smile,
"Though, technically, he didn't do any of that. Not anymore, at least. This version of Vayne—or whatever he is—seems almost tolerable. Almost."
She paused, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully,
"You say you're not him but you made me roses...I guess maybe you could've remembered that from the first soap you ever made for me but Vayne wouldn't remember something small like that."
Her gaze flickered downward briefly, landing on the gold ring adorning her finger—the insignia of House Arkwright intricately etched into its surface. She twisted hers absently, the weight of it suddenly unbearable,
"If this version of Vayne is truly real…" she whispered softly,
"Then what does that mean for me? For us?"
She shook her head sharply, dismissing the thought before it could take root,
No no no. It is way way way safer to just divorce once all the debts are gone.
Her mind drifted unwillingly to weeks ago, when they had argued violently in her bedroom. The memory still burned vividly in her mind: her rage boiling over as she lashed out at him, striking his chest repeatedly until blood seeped through his shirt.
His refusal to fight back had infuriated her further.
Why hadn't he raised a hand against me? Why hadn't he retaliated? Vayne always did that.
"He let me hit him." she murmured aloud, her tone laced with disbelief.
"He just stood there, defending himself, and then ran away like a coward. Naked, no less. Humiliating himself in the process."
She frowned at the taught of that while facepalming herself,
"Imagine that. The great Lord Arkwright, fleeing in nothing but his skin."
What if I just kill him though? I could sharpened my tendril into a razor-thin point aimed directly at his neck—or maybe his stomach? It would be so easy, wouldn't it?
One swift motion, and all my feelings would vanish wouldn't it? Would it...?
But...he hadn't actually fucked up anything in the past month. When I threatened him weeks ago, promising retribution the moment he stepped out of line, I did mean it. I was ready to divorce him, I was ready to humiliate him.
Yet here he was, behaving himself—scrubbing floors, making toiletries, exhausting himself for Callista's ridiculous estate.
"How infuriating." she muttered under her breath,
"You're supposed to be the selfish bastard who gave me every reason to hurt you. Instead, you're acting like some saint trying to fix everything you broke. Who the hell are you?"
Her gaze returned to his sleeping form, taking in the beads of sweat trickling down his temples, the way his chest rose and fell unevenly.
"And then there's this." she continued,
"Exhausting himself for Callista's ridiculous estate. Does he think being helpful will erase everything he's done? Because it won't. Nothing ever will."
Her tone softened slightly,
"Still… why does he keep doing it? Why does he keep trying? It's infuriating. And confusing. And… oddly...admirable."
Her lips twitched upward in a fleeting smirk,
"Admirable. Hah. There's a word I never thought I'd use to describe Vayne Arkwright. Then again, maybe he isn't Vayne anymore. Maybe he really is just… someone else trapped in his body."
Her gaze drifted to the window, where moonlight bathed the room in silvery hues. Memories resurfaced unbidden—memories she'd buried deep within herself, hoping never to confront them again.
She remembered catching him in the act years ago, sprawled across Callista's bed like some cheap man. The sight had shattered her, leaving her sobbing uncontrollably for months.
Every insult, every betrayal, every moment of humiliation replayed endlessly in her mind, fueling her hatred for the man lying before her now.
"How dare he hurt me like that? How dare he make me feel so weak?" she muttered under her breath, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
Her gaze fell on his chest again, the same spot where she had struck him two weeks prior. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she leaned forward, reaching out to touch it.
"You probably won't hear this but..."
"I am sorry." she said sincerely as she took her hand away,
"But I still hate you." she whispered softly, but her tone carrying no real hate,
"I hate everything about you. I hate how broken you made me feel. I hate how I even liked you before. I hate and hate everything about you. I hate the way you look at Callista. I hate that you don't fight back anymore. I hate you so fucking much Vayne."
She let her shoulder sagged, as if the years of hatred had finally caught up to her,
"But…I don't think you're him anymore. I can't hate you for fixing this mess. I can't hate you when you are so much more gentle with everyone. I noticed it. I know you try to be rude with everyone but...everyone could see it. You can't be something you're not. I wish..."
Moans echoed through the mansion, making Seraphina unable to finish the sentence.
"That insufferable nymphomaniac!" she growled under her breath, glaring daggers at the ceiling.
With a sigh of resignation, she slumped back in her seat, visibly annoyed.
Whether she liked it or not, her feelings toward Aric had grown far more complicated than simple hatred.