Dinner was a tense, quiet affair.
My newly-enhanced senses were on fire. I could smell the stale wine on my father's breath from across the table. I could hear the tiny, nervous way Thomas's fork scraped his plate. I could see the way Gideon's `[Lv. 3]` boot was twitching under the table, itching to kick me.
Clarisse, my mother, ate in a cold, perfect silence, her face a mask of noble indifference. Marie, the mistress, kept trying to start a conversation with Theodore, who just grunted in reply, clearly annoyed about something—probably money.
Gideon, as expected, was the first to break the "peace."
Thwack.
His boot connected solidly with my shin under the table. To him, it must have felt like kicking a small, weak child. To me, with my `[VIT: 12]` and `[HP: 160/160]`, it felt like a gnat bumping into me.
I didn't even flinch. I just slowly turned my head and looked at him.
He smirked, his hazel eyes full of malice, and did it again. Thwack.
I let out a small, breathy "Oof!"—a perfect `[Deceive (E-Rank)]` performance.
"Silvie, mind your manners," Marie snapped, not even looking up. "Don't make such uncouth sounds at the table."
"Yes, Lady Marie," I whispered, lowering my eyes.
Gideon's smirk widened. He'd found his new favorite toy. He kicked me again. And again. By the time dinner was over, my shins were probably a mess of "cosmetic" bruises, but my HP bar hadn't budged.
This, however, could not be allowed to continue.
***
The next day, I found my opportunity.
I was in the overgrown, dying garden, "helping" Iris weed a patch of herbs. It was a cover, of course. I was actually mapping out the estate, my `[AGI: 22]` and `[Novice Footwork]` itching for a real run.
"Hah! Found you, monster!"
I sighed. Speak of the devil.
Gideon strutted into the garden, his scuffed wooden sword held high. He looked ridiculously proud of himself. "Let's play 'Knight and the Monster'," he declared, pointing the sword at my chest. "You're the monster. And I'm the Hero-Knight!"
From a nearby window, I saw a flicker of movement. Thomas, his small face buried in a book, watching.
"I don't want to play, Gideon," I said, backing up.
"Too bad! The monster doesn't get a choice!" he yelled, and he charged, swinging the wooden sword in a clumsy, horizontal arc.
My `[Rapier Arts (D-Rank)]` passive skill screamed at me. The attack was slow, unbalanced, and his entire left side was wide open. I could `[Lunge]` and have him on the ground crying before his sword even completed its swing.
But I couldn't. I was Silvie, the Useless Sidekick.
So, I did what a useless sidekick would do. I "panicked."
"Ah!" I yelped, activating `[Deceive]`. I "tripped" over my own feet, falling backward onto the grass. The wooden sword whooshed through the air, missing my head by a good foot.
Gideon laughed. "Stupid! You can't even stand up! Hold still, monster!"
He raised his sword again and lunged, a clumsy, `[Lv. 3]` lunge, putting all his weight into it.
My `[AGI: 22]` brain saw it coming a mile away.
I activated `[Quickstep]`.
To Gideon, it must have looked like I flinched and pathetically tried to roll to the side. But my 1-meter dash was precise. I moved just enough.
Gideon, expecting his "unstoppable" lunge to hit a soft target, found only empty air.
His momentum, combined with his total lack of balance, did the rest.
"Whoa-!" he yelped.
He tripped over his own feet and flew, arms flailing, face-first into the one thing in the garden that was actually thriving: my mother's prize-winning, exceptionally thorny rose bushes.
SPLAT. K-RIIIP. SHRAAAAA.
There was a moment of perfect, stunned silence.
Then, the screaming started.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
I scrambled to my feet and activated `[Deceive (E-Rank)]` at full power. I put my hands to my cheeks, my eyes wide with "terror."
"Oh, Gideon! Are you okay?!" I cried, my voice trembling. "I'm so, so sorry! I tripped! I didn't mean to!"
Gideon was trying to pull himself out, but he was stuck. His nice silk tunic was ripped to shreds, and his face and arms were covered in mud and a rapidly growing number of bleeding scratches.
"You... you witch!" he sputtered, trying to untangle himself.
"Gideon! My baby!" Marie shrieked, suddenly running from the house. She must have been watching. She shot me a look of pure hatred before rushing to her son. "What did you do to him, you wicked, crimson-haired thing?!"
"It was an accident!" I cried, forcing tears to well up in my eyes. "He was just... he fell! I'm sorry!"
`[Skill: [Deceive (E-Rank)] has gained 20 EXP.]`
"Gideon, you're clumsy!" Theodore barked, appearing on the porch. He looked more annoyed than concerned. "Stop making so much noise! Marie, get him cleaned up!"
Gideon was finally yanked free by his mother. He wasn't crying. He was just standing there, covered in mud, blood, and torn silk, staring at me. It wasn't the look of a simple bully anymore. It was pure, unadulterated hatred.
`[TARGET: Gideon Briar - AFFECTION: -20 (HATE)]`
`[TARGET: Marie - AFFECTION: -15 (LOATHING)]`
Perfect. I thought, all while I kept up my terrified, sobbing facade.
***
Later that evening, I knew I had to act. The "accident" had bought me some peace—Gideon was confined to his room, "recovering"—but it also put a target on my back. I needed to get out. I needed money and a real sword.
I slipped out of my room and padded down the hall to the small room that had been given to Thomas. I knocked softly.
He opened the door a crack, his brown eyes wide. "Silvie?"
I pushed the door open and slipped inside. His room was filled with drying herbs, glass vials, and stacks of books.
"Thomas," I said, my voice low and serious.
"I... I saw what happened," he whispered, flinching. "I'm sorry. He's... he's in a terrible mood."
"I don't care," I said, cutting to the chase. "I need to go to town."
"T-town?" he stammered. "We can't. Father won't let us."
"I know. But you go, don't you? To the village? To buy herbs for your apothecary?"
His jaw dropped. "H-how did you know?"
My `[INT: 8]` was low, but it wasn't that low. "You smell like dried lavender and sulfur. Your book is on 'Common Alchemical Reagents'. It wasn't a hard guess."
I leaned in, and for the first time, I dropped the "Useless Silvie" mask. I let him see the cold, `[Level 16]` focus in my eyes. "I need to get to the nearest real city. The one with a proper market. I have something... valuable. Something I need to sell."
He looked terrified. "No, no, I can't... If Father finds out..."
"Gideon will never stop," I interrupted, my voice sharp. "He hates me now. And he hates you for being weak. But if I have money... money is power. Don't you want to buy your own apothecary supplies? Rare ones? Maybe even study in Elusia one day, away from him ?"
I saw the flicker in his eyes. I'd hit the mark.
He hesitated, his small hands clenching and unclenching. "...There's a merchant's cart," he finally whispered, so low I could barely hear him. "It comes to our village every Fire-day to pick up supplies. It goes to the main city... Oakhaven ."
Oakhaven. Miki had mentioned it. The biggest logging and trading hub in the north. It would have an Adventurer's Guild.
"Perfect," I said. "When is the next Fire-day?"
Thomas swallowed, looking at me like I was the real monster.
"...Two days from now."
The next day...
Gideon was, as I'd hoped, nowhere to be seen. Marie, his mother, had apparently declared him "traumatized" by his "accident" and was keeping him in his room, likely feeding him sweets and poisoning him against me. The glares she shot me at breakfast were sharp enough to be C-Rank weapons.
Theodore, my "father," didn't even notice. He was already complaining about the cost of the "special herbs" Marie had ordered for Gideon's "recovery."
This was good. A wounded, angry Gideon was a predictable one. He wouldn't be looking for a fight; he'd be plotting a petty, elaborate revenge. It bought me time.
My mother, Clarisse, was the real problem. She had emerged from her cold silence, her green eyes sharp and focused. She watched me. She'd seen my "accident" with Gideon. She'd seen me not cry. She'd heard me call my father "Theodore" (in my head, at least). The original Silvie was gone, and Clarisse was the only one smart enough to be suspicious.
And through it all, under every polite "Yes, Mother" and every "Sorry, Lady Marie," my internal clock was ticking.
Ping.
My heart seized.
`[Skill: [Deceive (E-Rank)] has gained 2 EXP.]`
I let out the breath I was holding. It was just a passive gain from my flawless performance as a meek, terrified child.
Every time my focus wavered, every time the house went quiet, I expected the real `ping`. The one that would yank me back to the dungeon. The `[MANDATORY TRAINING REGIMEN]` was a sword hanging over my head. I had a C-Rank item to sell, a family to save, and a plan to execute, but this stupid, tyrannical System could pull the plug at any second.
I had one day. I had to make my move.
That afternoon, I found Thomas in his makeshift apothecary—a damp, disused pantry that smelled of dirt and drying herbs. He was grinding something in a mortar and pestle, his small, thin shoulders hunched.
He didn't notice me until I was right behind him.
"I need your help," I whispered.
He yelped, dropping the pestle with a clatter. "Silvie! Don't do that!"
"I need to be sick," I said, ignoring his panic. "Tomorrow morning. Sick enough that no one will bother me for the entire day. A fever, preferably."
Thomas's brown eyes went wide with terror. "What? Sick? I... I can't... that's... that's poison!"
"I'm not asking you to poison me, you idiot," I hissed, my patience wearing thin. My `[Deceive]` skill was useless here; I needed to be blunt. "I'm asking for an alchemical simulation. You're an apothecary. Don't you have something? A tincture that raises body temperature? Something that makes you flush and sweat? Something that's unpleasant, but not dangerous ?"
He stared at me, his mind clearly working. "I... there is... a Feverfew Tincture," he mumbled, mostly to himself. "Highly concentrated, it can induce chills and a false fever... but why? What are you..."
"I'm going to Oakhaven," I said.
He looked like I'd just confessed to murder. "You can't! The merchant, old man Hemlock, he'd never take you! And if Father finds out..."
"He won't find out, because I'll be 'deathly ill' in my bed, won't I?" I met his gaze, my `[Level 16]` intensity pinning him. "Look, Thomas. You hate Gideon. You hate this place. You hate being told you're weak."
I pointed to his mortar. "This is your sword. But you're too scared to even swing it."
His face flushed. "I'm not... I'm not like you!"
"You could be," I said, my voice a little softer. "I need one day. Help me, and I can sell something in Oakhaven. Something that will get us money. Real money. Enough for you to buy real alchemical equipment. Enough for you to get a real teacher."
I was dangling the bait. His `[TRUST: 10]` was wary, but I could see the greed and desperation in his eyes.
He wrestled with himself for a full minute, his small hands clenching and unclenching.
"...One vial," he finally whispered. He scurried to a dark corner of the pantry and retrieved a tiny, cork-stoppered bottle filled with a murky, dark-green liquid.
"Drink this just before sunrise," he said, his hand trembling as he gave it to me. "It will... it will be very unpleasant. For at least twelve hours. You'll feel awful."
"Perfect," I said, slipping the vial into a hidden pocket Iris had sewn into my dress.
`[ITEM ACQUIRED: 'False Fever Tincture' (E-Rank, Consumable)]`
> Effect: Inflicts `[Fever]` and `[Chills]` debuff for 12 hours. (Cosmetic status effect. No HP damage.)
I gave him a sharp, genuine nod. "You did well, Thomas."
That night, I lay in my small, lumpy bed. The house was dead silent. My cheap traveling frock for the next day was folded neatly on my chair. The [False Fever Tincture] was on my nightstand, a small vial of dark-green potential.
All I had to do was wait for the sun.
I stared at the ceiling, my senses on high alert. My plan was perfect. It was simple. It was, for the first time, proactive.
I closed my eyes, but I couldn't sleep. Every creak of the old house, every rustle of the wind outside, made my heart jump.
Please, I thought, clutching the thin blanket. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Just give me 24 hours. Just one day...
My room was dark. The moon was high.
Ping.
My eyes snapped open. The familiar, cold, blue light of a System window filled my vision.
But it wasn't the dungeon. It wasn't the [MANDATORY TRAINING REGIMEN].
It was a single, stark-red warning box I had never seen before.
[CRITICAL WARNING: HOSTILE INTENT DETECTED.]
[Threat Proximity: 10 meters and closing.]
I was so screwed.