Chapter 243
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Chapter 243: Sylve
The birthday celebration unfolded with an elegant charm.
The guest list was modest, consisting of just over ten noble families. These families, while not overly prestigious, were still significant players in the Platinum Zone, comparable in stature to the Helen family.
As for the five major families, their aloofness was expected—they would never condescend to attend such an inconspicuous gathering. Yet, even within the lower echelons of the nobility, Sylve’s birthday was marked by a grandeur unmatched by common households.
Well-trained servants moved gracefully, their every action precise and refined. The dining table was adorned with exquisite dishes, their quality rivaling that of the five major families. For the commoners, who could only observe from afar, it was a spectacle of unattainable luxury.
This, Lady Helen thought with pride, was a testament to her efforts.
But if Maryse, a member of the illustrious Augustus family, were to witness this scene, she would immediately notice the disparity.
The tableware, beverages, and even the decorations were leagues apart from the Augustus family’s impeccable standards. Maryse’s belongings were all custom-made, and the artwork displayed in her home would outshine the entire collection of Lady Helen’s treasures.
Such differences, subtle yet profound, were a reminder of the true gap between social standings.
Sylve, the focus of the
celebration, maintained a
polite yet hollow smile. The
gentlemen and ladies who
surrounded her played their
roles in this intricate dance of
pretense, their words laced
with veiled compliments and
barbed remarks.
Even as some guests made
snide comments about the
Helen family, Sylve could only
respond with ambiguous
civility. As a noble, she could
not afford to let her
composure slip.
When the festivities finally
subsided, Lady Helen
discreetly took Sylve by the
arm.
“Mother?” Sylve questioned
softly.
“You must come with me,”
Lady Helen replied firmly.
Leading Sylve upstairs, Lady
Helen brought her to the
master bedroom, ensuring
they were alone. Sylve’s heart
pounded as a sense of
foreboding crept in.
Lady Helen took a deep breath.
“Sylve, it’s time you learned
the greatest secret of our
family.”
She approached the blank wall,
closed her eyes, and began
murmuring an incantation—
words that seemed to unlock
the air itself. The wall
trembled, revealing a hidden
door that led to a secret
chamber Sylve had never
known existed.
The chamber was vast, far
larger than the master
bedroom, spanning at least a
hundred square meters. Its
emptiness was stark, save for
the ancient black altar
embedded in the center of the
floor.
The material of the altar
seemed alive, writhing subtly,
exuding an unsettling aura of
magic. Sylve instinctively
recoiled.
“Do not retreat!” Lady Helen
commanded, her voice sharp
and unyielding.
Sylve hesitated but nodded,
stepping forward.
“Listen carefully,” Lady Helen
instructed, her tone both
solemn and urgent. “You must
memorize the incantation I am
about to recite.”
What followed was an intricate
and arcane chant, passed
down through generations of
the Helen family. Its
complexity made Sylve’s head
spin, each word weighing
heavily on her mind.
When the chant concluded,
blood seeped from Lady
Helen’s palm, flowing towards
the altar. The black structure
absorbed it eagerly, its surface
glowing faintly. A gray vortex
formed, radiating an ominous
power.
Sylve gasped, her instincts screaming at her to flee, but her mother’s firm grip held her in place.
Lady Helen’s scream pierced the air, her face contorted in agony. The ritual exacted a harrowing toll on her body, leaving her drenched in sweat by the time it was complete.
On the altar, a radiant blue gemstone materialized, shimmering with an otherworldly light.
“This,” Lady Helen said weakly, “is the source of our family’s prosperity. It connects us to the wilderness beyond Tatsumi City. This gemstone represents the fruits of our clandestine endeavors—smuggling and illegal immigration.”
Sylve stared at her mother in disbelief. “Illegal activities? But that’s… that’s against the law!”
Lady Helen’s composure
cracked. “Do you think the five
major families are innocent?
This is how power is
maintained—through sacrifices
and compromises. You must
understand this if you wish to
survive in this world!”
Her words left Sylve reeling.
Unable to bear it any longer,
she fled the chamber, tears
streaming down her face.
Outside, Bai Yan stood on the
balcony, gazing at the snow
falling silently over the city.
Sylve approached him, her
voice trembling. “Mr.
Moriarty…”
Bai Yan turned to her, his
expression calm yet knowing.
“What troubles you, Sylve?”
She hesitated, then said softly,
“I’ve come to realize how
much my mother has
sacrificed for me… and how
blind I’ve been to it.”
Bai Yan regarded her
thoughtfully. “Pain is inevitable,
Sylve. But it is through pain
that we grow.”
For a moment, they stood in
silence, the snowfall wrapping
the world in quietude.
Finally, Sylve spoke again, her
voice tinged with gratitude.
“Thank you, Mr. Moriarty.
You’ve changed me more than
you realize.”
Bai Yan smiled faintly.
“Perhaps. But Sylve, I must
leave soon.”
Her heart sank. “Will you
return?”
“One day,” he replied.
Before he departed, Bai Yan
handed her a silver pendant in
the shape of a teardrop. “This
will protect you in times of
danger. But remember, every
gift comes with a price.”
Sylve clutched the pendant
tightly, her resolve hardening.
“I’ll wait for your return, Mr.
Moriarty.”
As the snow continued to fall,
Sylve stood alone, the pendant
gleaming softly in her hand—a
symbol of hope, and of the
unknown path that lay ahead.
