Abyss System The Rise of the Lord-Chapter 111 white rose

From early morning the city center looked crowded with people.

But the real power was not there.

Most believed the best things and the most important places were in the city center — because that was where the guilds, trading shops, and inns were plentiful. Yet that area actually belonged to the guild district. The true center, in reality, lay to the west.

In the western part the streets were wider, the cobblestones cleaner, the breezes calmer and more restrained. Here one felt not only wealth, but authority as well. Because the lord’s palace rose exactly in this direction — tall, cold, yet beautiful.

In the palace’s shadow lay luxurious restaurants.

People came here not out of hunger, but out of prestige.

Zaber watched from a distance.

Beautiful places.

That was why so many were drawn here.

Out of beauty too.

But Zaber leaned on no one. In truth, there was no one he could lean on.

Today, though... he had come for a different reason.

His eyes fixed on one point.

Behind the restaurant window, amid soft ochre tones, sat a calm girl.

Aurora.

She was alone.

Before her — elegant dishes, delicate glasses, a clear drink. Her movements were quiet, yet never careless. She belonged in this place.

Exactly as one ought to belong.

He bought a rose.

A white rose. Some of its petals carried a faint reddish tint along the edges.

Red — passion.

White — intention.

Or false purity.

He walked toward the entrance.

Inside, the very air felt different — a blend of scents, murmurs beneath the silence, the faint clink of porcelain.

When Zaber entered, many eyes turned toward him.

He was not dressed in luxury.

Yet he did not stoop.

He did not lower his step.

He walked straight toward Aurora.

Aurora lifted her gaze for a moment.

She recognized him.

But there was no surprise on her face — only nonchalance.

"You?" she said softly.

Zaber extended the rose.

"For you."

Aurora looked at the flower.

"You’re giving me a rose?"

"Is that forbidden?"

"You must be very brave. Why?"

"If giving a rose were an act of bravery, every woman would have a brave husband."

"No... it’s just that no one has ever given me a rose. Except for some unpleasant nobles. And you’ve been watching me."

Zaber sat down opposite her.

"Let’s leave those things aside for now. Let’s just eat."

This conversation was not just conversation.

"Is the food good here?" he asked in an ordinary tone.

"Not the food — the atmosphere is good," Aurora replied. "Here people feel powerful."

"Or appear powerful."

Aurora glanced around.

"Is there a difference?"

"In truth, no."

Zaber looked into her eyes.

There was no coldness there.

But neither was there full warmth.

What does she want? he thought. She knows I’ve been watching her, yet she says nothing. She even agrees to eat together. She shows almost no reaction.

"What kind of flowers do you like?" Zaber asked directly.

Aurora’s eyebrows rose slightly.

"Flowers? I don’t particularly like flowers. If I had to choose — grass."

Zaber was surprised.

"Grass? That’s not a flower."

"What’s the difference? Both are plants."

"That’s true."

"Someone as soft as you won’t last long here."

Inside Zaber two voices awoke.

Soft? I want to kill you just for saying that.

"Who said anything about fighting?" Zaber replied.

"You know what’s happening soon, don’t you?"

"Almost. Why did you come here, girl with night-desert eyes?"

Aurora did not answer.

She slowly swirled the drink in her glass.

"You," she said in a lower voice, "should keep some thoughts inside. Otherwise it becomes unpleasant."

"This isn’t flattery. I simply saw it."

"I don’t like hearing the same thing twice."

She stared at him.

"To say those words to me you would need to be far stronger than I am. Much higher."

Zaber smiled faintly.

"Strength? Honestly, that word doesn’t appeal to me much."

"Why?" asked Aurora. "It’s an old, worn-out word. Something more fitting would sound better in its place."

"I don’t like people who despise the word ’strength’ because they lack it."

"You are not my lover or my husband — I don’t need you to become whatever pleases my heart."

Aurora had not expected this answer. Before, whenever a man sensed she did not like him, he would immediately change for her — some in character, some in words, some by performing the actions she preferred. This was the first time someone refused to change for her. And that very refusal was beginning to awaken curiosity in her.

Zaber swirled his glass; he was drinking blood-red wine. But this was his first time, and he was thinking only: Just don’t get drunk and embarrass myself.

"That’s fair," he said quietly.

"Shall we order food?"

"I’m not here to eat."

"You weren’t at first. Now we will."

For a moment Aurora didn’t like that — she hated being judged from above — but this time she stayed silent.

Around them: laughter, soft music, the clink of porcelain.

But at their table the air had grown heavy.

"Fine. What would you like to eat?"

"Anything edible."

"Wild," Aurora said, straightening.

She looked at him without breaking eye contact.

"I’ll order for you."

"I’ll order for myself," Zaber replied.

"Many people dream of receiving such an offer from me, yet you refuse?"

"Not interested," he said in a cool, indifferent tone.

"Who are you, exactly?"

"No one."

"No one?"

Aurora’s thoughts began to tangle.

Who is this man? He speaks strangely, dresses strangely, moves strangely... but he’s amusing. I’ll spend a little time with him out of boredom, she thought.

Inside Zaber the inner struggle intensified.

Interesting... would I rather spend more time breaking your heart until you kneel, or become stronger than you and force you to kneel?

"I have a question," he said.

"I’m listening."

"If you had to choose — everything or nothing — what would you take?"

Aurora was silent for a moment. Then she answered thoughtfully:

"Nothing."

"Why?"

"Having everything means the effort to gain it was a leap into the abyss, and possessing it carries enormous risk. I only need what is necessary."

Simple.

Yet within that simplicity lay the ring of an oath.

Zaber looked away from her eyes and stared at his glass. His head was beginning to spin — the wine was strong, and this being his first time, the symptoms were appearing. He could hear Aurora’s words, but he couldn’t fully grasp them.

"I understand," Zaber said tonelessly.

"Did you want to see me?"

Zaber didn’t hesitate.

"Yes."

Aurora then placed the white rose on the table.

"I accept this flower."

"Good."

A waiter brought two plates of roasted and smoked meat and set them down. Another followed, refilled the wine, bowed lightly, said "Bon appétit," and turned away.

"Food’s here?"

"Good."

They spoke of ordinary things. Mostly ordinary things. Aurora almost never spoke with anyone — because everyone approached her wanting to use her. Zaber, though, was simply a stranger — and he was beginning to awaken her interest. Zaber, meanwhile, was searching for ways to use Aurora, trying to draw closer, yet walking a path different from everyone else.

"This restaurant belongs to the lord. Here they know who sits with whom."

"They don’t know me."

"They’ll find out."

"If they can manage that, I’ll cut off my own head and throw it at their feet."

"Really?"

"Yes. Even I don’t know who I am — how could they?"

Zaber smiled inwardly.

If she knew my true intention, what would she do?

"You," Aurora said slowly, "are you always like this?"

"No. But for some reason, since I saw you, I’ve become this way."

"You’re good with words."

He didn’t reply.

It was true.

Zaber was ready to lie, to do anything for his own benefit, even to present himself differently.

But today he had come with a white rose — to discover new sides of himself in front of this girl.

"I’m going toward the palace," Aurora said calmly.

"Are you busy?"

"Yes."

"With the lord?"

"Perhaps."

She paused.

"And you?"

"Yes?"

Zaber took the rose he had brought and placed it in her hand.

"We’ll meet again," she said.

The words were directed straight at him.

Directly.

She turned and left.

Zaber remained seated.

Through the window he watched her silhouette move toward the palace.

Zaber wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Before coming here he had used drops to make his dull, lifeless eyes appear bright and moist — enough to reflect light and help him look ordinary.

He looked toward the door.

"The road that leads to her is the road of friendship," he whispered, then stood and began walking toward the exit.

Zaber returned to the inn.

In the evening the city took on a different hue.

Streets that glittered golden by day turned cold gray at dusk. The wind rose from below, slipping between walls, mingling with people’s whispers.

For two days Zaber had walked without rest.

He appeared to be searching for no one.

In reality he was searching for everyone.

Which group meets where.

Which one gathers the most people.

Which one is overly confident in itself.

He listened.

He watched.

In this city there were two groups — not openly enemies, but locked in hidden conflict. Compared to the rest, they were relatively easy prey.

One controlled the western trade routes and called itself the guardian of order; it had existed for many years.

The other was tied to the black market — silent, but sharp in action.

Their war had not yet begun.

But it would begin — that was certain.

Zaber only wanted to accelerate the timing a little... and create some noise.

He sat in a dark room.

On the table lay two white sheets of paper.

Same ink.

Same handwriting.

Only the names and seals were different.

He wrote the first one.

Those who oppose you are moving in the forest. You will either be destroyed or you will destroy.

The words were short.

Clear.

Not frightening.

But enough to sow doubt.

Then the second sheet.

Identical text.

Only a different seal.

The seals had been bought at random.

For two days Zaber had not simply walked — he had prepared.

Satisfied, he murmured:

"This will make the remaining groups more alert."

He sent the letters through false messengers — people unused for such tasks, which made them more convenient.

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