Chapter 59: Red Dragon and Black Dragon (Part 2)
"The truth? Oh! Ser Lucien, please have mercy on an old man and explain things more clearly!" Ser Wilder's composure was beginning to crack.
"Now, I have only one final question," Ian didn't answer, but instead posed the same question as before. "Are you certain you saw three black dragons when you fought the Whitewalls ghosts?"
"Why do you keep asking this?" Wilder seemed to have been questioned on this matter too many times. He raised his hand in an oath gesture.
"I swear on my honor, what I saw was a black dragon on a red field. They've asked me repeatedly, but I've said it countless times! Black dragon! Black dragon! I'm certain it was a black dragon!" Wilder didn't restrain himself at the end, his voice rising to nearly a roar.
"I recall it was night when you fought the bandit knight from Whitewalls?"
"Did the Black Falcon sellsword you recruited tell you that?"
"That's not important. The key question is—was the light bright? Your duel took place in a single room. Was the light sufficient?"
"The light? The entire village was burning," Wilder said, lost in memory. "But the house where we fought was backlit, and it was pitch black inside. However, I have excellent vision and can see in the dark," he added defensively.
"You can see clearly in darkness, but you cannot see colors accurately. The human eye has difficulty distinguishing colors in the dark." Ian smiled and shook his head. In darkness, the eye's rods are primarily active, and these cells can only distinguish light and shadow, not color!
"Cannot?" Wilder had never heard such an explanation before.
"Yes, I am quite certain, Ser Wilder. If the room was truly as dark as you described, it would be impossible for you to distinguish colors. So what exactly makes you so confident that what you saw must have been a black dragon? And not any other color?"
"This, this, I..." Wilder himself became uncertain now. "I don't know, I don't know," he repeated, then argued firmly, "But I remember it very clearly! A black dragon on a red field! I remember it distinctly!"
"Red field? So you also saw a red field?" Ian identified a new inconsistency.
"Yes!" Ser Wilder suddenly became animated. "Red field! That's what I saw before I pursued him into the mud-brick house. The light was very bright at that moment. I could not have been mistaken then!"
Wilder nearly shouted, as if he'd finally found the perfect evidence to defend his honor. "Black dragon on red field, red dragon on black field—everyone who has studied heraldry knows this! The black dragon on a red field is the Blackfyre sigil!"
"But you severed his cloak after entering the house and saw the emblem on his breastplate, didn't you? What did you see before entering the house?" Ian asked calmly, and events were unfolding exactly as he'd anticipated.
"This..." Wilder's mouth fell open, stunned. "I saw it."
"The red you saw came from the man's cloak. He was wearing a red cloak that day, wasn't he?"
"No, he was wearing a white cloak, but the chest area was completely stained red with blood."
"Because of your familiarity with heraldry, the image of a black dragon on a red field versus a red dragon on a black field has long been deeply etched in your mind. So when you saw the three-headed dragon emblem on his breastplate in the darkness, you subconsciously mistook the red on his cloak for the field, and your immediate impression was of a black dragon." Ian explained. "Seven hells! This is madness. Father Above, forgive me!" Wilder gasped for breath. He finally understood what had gone wrong.
"And if your initial perception of the black dragon was an illusion, then how could there possibly be any Blackfyre treasure?" Ian clapped Wilder on the shoulder. "Well, now the truth is revealed. It's time to make the man who deceived you pay."
It was the sixth day since Ian's arrival in the World of Ice and Fire, and his third day at Ser Willy Ward's manor.
For the past two days, finally enjoying his own private, undisturbed quarters, Ian had begun his specialized training under Roll's instruction. Though Ian's initial performance was abysmal, his impressive physical attributes and rapid improvement amazed even Roll.
Furthermore, last night, Ian's trap at the crossroads inn had claimed another victim.
[A subordinate successfully eliminated a player, earning 2 points and 1 additional Spirit Point.]
Since the kill was made by a subordinate, both the base points and the bonus attributes were halved. And presumably because the player had already spent their initial points, even the modest gains were diminished, making the overall reward negligible.
After the update, Ian's statistics became:
[Ian: Strength 26, Agility 24, Spirit 3
Skills: Basic Etiquette, Basic Common Tongue Literacy, Advanced Swordsmanship, Advanced Riding, Intermediate Lance.
Attribute Points: 0
Skill Points: 0
Points: 19]
Thus, in just five days, Ian had eliminated four players.
Of course, those who hadn't encountered Ian weren't much luckier.
As players gradually completed their initial exploration and began interacting with each other, the trap set by the game designers finally began to unleash its full devastation.
The fourth day marked a turning point. The system report from the third night showed 96 players surviving, but by the fourth day, that number had dropped to 92. And last night, it had updated to 86.
Ian predicted that this first round of culling would not end until the player count had been reduced to at least 70, or even below half.
At that point, only those who had already earned points by hunting other players would have a brief period of growth. Those who still hadn't would be condemned to live in constant terror under the monthly leaderboard assassination system.
After breakfast, Ian followed Roll to the courtyard to begin the day's training.
However, before the training officially commenced, Bronn, who had been observing for two days, spoke in a discordant voice: "Why don't you start with more fundamental drills? Your form is adequate, but you look so rusty, like a once-skilled swordsman who hasn't touched a blade in years.
Wait, seven hells, what rubbish am I spouting? You look like you're still bloody green. How could you possibly be rusty?" He then shook his head, dismissing the notion.
"I think you should show more respect to your employer," Ian said dryly.
(End of Chapter)
[+100 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/Soulforger (30+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01