I Awakened My Game System! Now Three Great Houses Want Me Dead!-Chapter 124: Movement

Next after Vulcan was a woman.

She looked quite... unique, with long green hair flowing past her waist, hidden mostly under a wide white hat that drooped over her face. Her dress was white too, simple, flowing, and far too clean for someone who claimed to be an alchemist.

The woman was an Anthroph as well, a bird-folk, a Harpie.

Xenos squinted at her from behind his desk.

"...are you sure you’re not here for a wedding?"

The girl jolted slightly, clutching her hat tighter.

"N-no..."

Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper.

If Vulcan was all stone and steel, this girl was all cover and silence.

He flipped a paper on his desk and pretended to read.

"Name?"

She hesitated before answering.

"M-Mary."

"Mary..."

He repeated, leaning forward.

"Got a last name?"

Her fingers twitched.

"...Zosimos."

"Alright, I like it."

Eris hummed in his head.

’She looks terrified.’

’A good sign... it means she’s not pretending.’

He dropped the paper and clasped his hands.

"Alright, Mary. Standard procedure. I’m going to ask you a few questions to make sure you’re not secretly sane."

She blinked at him, wide-eyed.

"Relax, it’s not a trick. I already hired one sane guy today; I don’t want to go two for two."

That did not seem to relax her.

Xenos smiled anyway.

"So. First question. How do you feel about frogs?"

"...frogs?"

"Yes. Have you ever used one in a potion?"

"Uh... once."

"Did it explode?"

Her face turned red under the hat.

"...yes."

"Good. Honest answer."

He nodded approvingly, jotting down nothing on his blank paper.

"Alright. Next question. Can you cook?"

Mary blinked again.

"Cook?"

"Yes. Have you ever made soup?"

"I—yes, sometimes."

He leaned forward like it was a life-or-death matter.

"Ever mistaken a healing elixir for broth?"

Her eyes went wide.

"No!"

"Liar."

"I’m not!"

Her face puffed up in the tiniest, most offended pout imaginable, and Xenos grinned.

"Alright, alright. I believe you."

He leaned back, crossing his arms.

"How about fire? Do you like it?"

Her expression went blank again.

"...please d-define like."

"Would you use it indoors?"

"Yes."

"Would you use it near your hair?"

"D-Definitely not."

"Would you use it on someone who annoys you?"

She hesitated for a long, suspicious second.

"...maybe."

Xenos slapped the table, laughing.

"Yes, you would~."

Eris sighed in his head.

’You might be the first to enjoy interviewing candidates this much.’

’It’s fun. Look at her. She’s dying inside.’

Mary, for her part, was doing her best to remain composed, though her face was practically screaming everything she didn’t say.

Her lips tightened, her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress, and her eyes darted everywhere except at him.

"Alright, final question..."

Xenos pretended to glance at his nonexistent notes.

"How many healing potions can you make before your hands cramp up?"

"...depends on the type."

"Low tier."

"...fifteen?"

"Cool. Make ten by tonight."

She froze again.

"T-tonight?"

"Yeah. If you manage that, I’ll hire you."

Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

"I—I’ll do it!"

"Atta girl."

His grin widened.

"The laboratory is next to the forge downstairs, left wing. Tell Vulcan not to blow anything up while you’re working."

Mary nodded so fast her hat nearly slipped off, grabbed the hem of her dress, and rushed out the door with the tiniest squeak of a "thank you."

The office went quiet again.

Xenos leaned back, staring at the door she’d disappeared through.

"...She’s fun."

Eris chuckled faintly in his mind.

’You find everyone fun when they don’t talk back.’

"Exactly."

He propped his feet up on the desk again, his eyes half-closed.

Two new Names added to House Eris in one week. Both of them broken in different ways, and both with more potential than the idiots who abandoned them. Vulcan, the son of a fading House, forgotten by his own bloodline. Mary, the alchemist whose House crumbled when her mentor died, left with nothing but recipes.

Both her and Vulcan’s stories played out the same: talented fellows left to rot, and he was their savior, a man who would polish them as gems and reveal them to the realm to shine.

He’d seen enough of that kind of talent rotting; it was a waste... shiny tools worked better.

Xenos chuckled at that thought and reached for the papers on his desk again.

"Let’s see if they’re worth the effort."

They didn’t know, but they had just entered Hell.

And they would never be able to leave.

...

Night had settled over the manor.

The halls were quiet, and nearly everyone was asleep.

Everyone except one Wise Fool.

Inside his office, Xenos sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes shut, breathing slowly.

A single candle flickered beside him, the flame bending with every breath.

Thump!Thump!Thump!

His heart roared to life.

Divinity surged through his veins, his entire body pulsing as he drew in more and more.

It was reckless and incredibly dangerous, but he didn’t seem to care.

What he was doing was obvious to the initiated.

He was forcing it.

Xenos was forcing his Synaxis to activate, no matter what it took.

’Xenos! Stop! It’s going haywire!’

He ignored Eris’s warning, too focused on the feeling.

Every nerve in his body screamed, his vision spun, and his hands trembled from the overload.

"Ah."

His eyes shot open.

Something was unusual about them...

One of them was no longer gray.

It had burned bright crimson.

It was wild and glowing, a thin trail of red dripping down his cheek.

He looked like a man possessed by a nightmare.

Though only for a moment, as it faded.

His eyes went back to gray.

The light vanished.

"Haaaaah."

He gasped hard, his chest heaving and his body shaking.

After a moment of composing himself, he grinned through a mouth full of blood.

"I told you I could do it."

Eris took a few seconds to respond, likely struggling to calm Herself.

’...I hate you.’

Xenos wiped his mouth and chuckled.

Sure, it didn’t work, and sure, he might’ve nearly exploded himself from the inside, but it was progress.

That was what mattered.

Progress.

And just as he leaned back to breathe again—

Knock, knock.

Someone stood at his door.