Rise of the Eromancer

Chapter 158 Poetry In Motion

"...Hi."

"Do you want to get up?"

Rhys has been surprised a lot of times in his life, and most were life-changing. But this is perhaps the very first time where he was shocked, and the immediate feeling after was just utter and complete welcomed confusion.

He had met many beauties in his life — and he has been lucky to even be with them. And although Rhys did not really have a preference in terms of who had the most beautiful faces among the women in her life, he would have to say it was Arachnea—no.

Arachnea was not a woman in his life, not at all. If it will be only among the four, then objectively, Lina would be the most beautiful one amongst them — and now Rhys knew the reason why.

The Royal Family of Enkland completely bred themselves to be superior to other people. They seem to be failing now in the new generations since none of their Nobles were even being considered to be one of the strongest in the entire world, and maybe even in the country, but there was one thing no one could deny…

…although the quality of their Nobles might have dwindled to the point they were even giving birth to Commoners, the quality of their physical traits has not lowered at all. They were, in a sense, also genetically bred to be more beautiful than normal people.

And now, right above him and facing him, was probably the entire culmination of that.

"Here, let me help you up."

And as the woman offered her hand to him, Rhys could really just instinctively accept her hand. The woman did not lift her up at all, however, but the plants that were wriggling on the ground did it for her. The vines very gently carried Rhys and placed him back on his feet.

"I truly apologize if my meddling has caused you great discomfort, Sir," the woman then spoke; the tone of her voice, even more posh and elegant than what he had heard from the rest of the family. But then again, all he had heard from them were complaints, anger, and rage.

This was perhaps the first time he was actually meeting someone calm — if that is, this woman is actually from the royal family too.

She looks the part, but perhaps even more so than her unexplainable and otherworldly beauty… the thing that stood out for Rhys the most was her long, silky… black hair. It did not help that she was wearing an immaculate white gown that flowed below her ankles.

Black hair, a trait of a Lowborn, like him.

"Is there something in my hair, or my face?" The woman let out a small gasp as she quickly paced away; her steps, very minute and gentle as she rushed toward the mirror that was neatly placed inside the garden, "Do I have spots on my face? Oh, do I?"

Rhys could really only just watch as the woman started checking her face in the mirror. And while he did so, Rhys took this chance to clear out his mind and started looking around the garden.

He once again looked up, finally noticing that the sky was covered by a dome made of glass — and that was not the only thing that was covered. Although the garden seemed open, it was not. There were walls covering all sides and no sign of any doors, not even one.

There were trees, all seemingly taken care of and even shaped to look as aesthetically pleasing to the eyes as possible. The plants and flowers almost seemed like they were glowing as they reflected the radiance of the moon. They were flickering, however, almost as if to reflect the woman, who was currently distressed at the condition of her face.

"You don't need to check for anything, Ma'am…" Rhys then gently walked closer to the woman, careful not to alarm her,

"...The only thing that mirror will forever reflect when you look at it is beauty, without contest."

"O… Oh my."

"Hm…" Rhys could really only resist the urge to turn his eyes wide as he realized what he just said. Why did he even say that to a stranger? No, there was something extremely familiar about her, familiar in a way that made Rhys almost feel like she knew her.

And as she turned around to face him again; with her hair following her movement and waving in the air, he realized what it was — Lina.

She resembled Lina, except she held a more mature and elegant way in her.

"I never would have thought I would actually be inviting a philanderer," the woman let out a quiet giggle as she covered her mouth.

"I don't think invite is the right word for this," Rhys let out a loud sigh as he gestured to the garden. He was complaining, but for some reason, he felt completely safe even though he was clearly abducted out of nowhere.

"Oh…" The woman clasped her hands together as she slightly shook her head; the tone of her voice, completely meek, "...I truly do apologize for this, Sir. And I truly appreciate the absence of spite in the way you talk to me."

"...Right," Rhys felt slightly uncomfortable as the woman suddenly stood in front of him; her eyes almost like a puppy as she looked up at him.

"It's just — I believe this is the first time I am ever feeling something like this," the woman then backed away and started pirouetting while still managing to speak well; the quiet chaos that was hiding behind her movements, reflected by the vines that surrounded all the colorful and beautiful plants in the garden, "You feel it too, don't you? You feel the thread between us?"

"A thread?"

"A connection, silly," the woman once again covered her mouth as she stopped dancing; covering her mouth as she looked at Rhys, "People who are drowned by the… gifts they hold within them."

Rhys could not help but notice the sudden hesitation in the woman's voice; made obvious due to her otherwise completely confident tone.

"Gifts…?" And as soon as the woman mentioned that, Rhys instinctively turned to look above her head, only to see that there was nothing floating there.

"Oh…" The woman's breaths trembled as she once again covered her mouth with both hands; her shoulders, shaking along with her words, "...I apologize, is it a curse to you? Oh no, I've… I've made you uncomfortable."

"...No," Rhys could really only shake his head as he heard the woman's voice turn sad and disappointed, "By gifts, do you mean the blood of gods flowing through our veins? The Awakening?"

"Yes," the woman's face instantly lit up as she clasped her palms together.

"I don't consider mine as a gift."

"Oh…" The woman's face once again became downtrodden.

"But I also don't see it as a curse," Rhys let out a small hum as he started walking around the garden; lightly brushing his hand on one of the colorful plants near him. As soon as he did so, however, he heard a small whimper coming from the woman.

"Hm?" He turned to look at the woman, only to see her face suddenly flushed red, "Are you… okay?"

"Y… yes," the woman smiled, "Please do not mind me, I have already inconvenienced you enough as it is. What were you saying about it not being a curse?"

"Right…" Rhys squinted his eyes, "...I just see it as a means to an end."

"Which end?" The woman quickly asked; the expression on her face suddenly turned serious. The astute expression did not last, however as she once again smiled at Rhys, "I suppose it doesn't matter. Where was I… Ah! We have a connection, you and I."

"You and I are both Lowborns," Rhys looked at the woman's hair.

"Are you sure I don't have something on my face? Is it on my hair?" The woman was about to rush toward her mirror again, but decided to just not to as she sighed, "And what's a Lowborn?"

"...You don't know what a Lowborn is?" Rhys could not help but squint his eyes before once again focusing on the walls that did not have an exit or an entrance, "How long have you been kept here?"

"Here…?" The woman tilted her head to the side, "Whatever do you mean? This is my home, my forever home."

"Forever… who are you?"

"You don't know…?" The woman then slightly backed away as she once again looked Rhys in the eyes. But soon, however, the smile on her face turned wide to the point her mouth was slightly opened in joy, "Oh my…

…I was wrong. You're not yet drowned by Fate at all…"

"What…?" If Rhys was not confused before, he was now. The woman's face probably changed to several expressions in just the span of a second as she looked at him.

"You…

…you're resisting it."

"I'm resisting what!? Can you please just stop talking in poetry!?"