The Poet's System
Chapter 49: Signs of Hostility

Chapter 49: Signs of Hostility

How they were going to torture such a creature for answers remained a mystery—but that wasn’t something they wanted to dwell on while fleeing. As long as the creature was in the orb and the ink was still intact, there was still hope of finding a way.

Before long, they reached their hideout, breathless and laughing from exhaustion.

Things had been far easier than they’d expected—fleeing early had been the last thing on their list. At the very least, they should have encountered a few phantoms on their way back. But no—it had been like a walk in the park.

Their rest didn’t last long. They needed to figure out how to extract answers from the creature they’d captured. Before bringing it out, they sat down to discuss their approach—how to make it speak the truth without killing it... or getting themselves killed.

They held their stances with weapons drawn, masks on, each taking up a position around the living room—Astara securing the entrance.

They exchanged tense glances and braced themselves. The moment Daylan summoned the creature back, they were on high alert, ready to react to even the slightest movement.

But the creature remained still, indifferent—just as it had been earlier. It showed no signs of hostility, as if it had no intention of fighting.

Still, they refused to lower their guard. There was always the chance it was simply too powerful to consider them a threat.

The creature turned to Daylan, its expression calm and unreadable. ’’Where are we, Master Daylan?’’

Confusion filled the room as they exchanged glances. Daylan, however, stood stunned—though he said nothing. It could have been a trap, a way to test if he truly was who it claimed.

Still, questions raced through his mind. Had he unintentionally revealed a trace of his identity earlier? Or could it read minds, just like Ael had warned him?

"Who’s Daylan?" Medora asked, trying to shift its focus—just in case it was a trap.

"Nice to finally meet you, Lady Astara and Medora. It’s a pleasure to be in your presence," it added.

The moment it mentioned the others’ names, Daylan let go of his mask and lowered his guard. It was clear now—the creature could read their minds and, for whatever reason, didn’t intend to kill them. If it had, it would’ve already attacked. Seeing Daylan relax, the others followed suit.

However, Daylan wasn’t naive. He kept his distance, eyes locked on the creature with unwavering focus. "How are you," he asked, his voice firm and demanding, "and how do you know our names?"

It bowed its head. "I am Silver, Master Daylan."

Daylan cast an observant glance at the creature. Was it called Silver because of its silver hood? And if so, did that mean the one they encountered earlier was called Gold?

"I am the weary one among the Titans—the most loyal members of the organization."

"Titans?"

Silver took the initiative to explain who the Titans were. They had been created by Jose Rhys, the former ruler of the organization before Albert Rhys took over. Within the organization’s hierarchy, the Titans ranked just below the captains and the leader himself—Rhys.

There were three of them. Just as Daylan had suspected, Gold was one of them. The Titans were known by their titles: Silver, the Strategist; Gold, the Caretaker; and Platinum, the Warrior—Platinum being the strongest among them.

They served the organization and obeyed any member of the Rhys bloodline. To harm or disobey a Rhys was to defy the very purpose of their existence.

This made Daylan realize why Gold hadn’t wanted to fight him—it simply couldn’t.

Maybe his mother had ordered it to kill him, and the only way it could carry out such a painful command was through suffocation.

After coming to that realization, Daylan finally felt a wave of relief. For now, he was safe—and he intended to make the most of it. He was going to squeeze every bit of information he could from Silver about the Phantoms.

Silver was a darling—eager and unbothered, it answered every question they had without hesitation.

Daylan didn’t waste a moment before asking what Giselle planned to do with him—and why she wanted him dead.

Silver didn’t have much information on that. In fact, despite being the strategist, its knowledge of the current leadership was surprisingly limited.

But here’s what it did know: Giselle needed Daylan’s blood as an added component to revive Gerald from the dead. It was said she also desired his Worth artifact for herself—driven by a hunger to rule the world.

She needed Gerald’s blood for the ritual, but it wasn’t going to come easily. As the ritual required, she had to trap him in a place called the Adren, a realm where one exists in a demonic sense, neither truly dead nor alive.

From there, she planned to drain his blood and use it in a ritual to sever the bond between him and his artifact.

However, Gerald caught on to her plans—even while under Giselle’s spell. Before he could be fully captured, he forced himself to break free and stabbed himself, causing a severe loss of blood, which made it unsuitable for the ritual.

As a result, when the ritual was performed, Gerald was sent to the Nether—a realm where one leans more toward death than life—instead of the Adren.

This sabotaged her plans, but there was another way to get Gerald to the Adren stage—he had to take in the blood of one of his own. Since Zira wasn’t his child, that responsibility fell to Daylan. And for that to happen, Daylan had to be killed.

Daylan’s blood boiled with every word he heard. His hatred for his mother grew deeper and more intense with each passing moment.

At the Adren stage, one can produce blood by feeding on an ancient artifact that nourishes the soul—much like how humans live on food. That’s exactly what Giselle planned for Daylan. That’s why, after he was dismembered and small amounts of his blood were taken, he was pieced back together and frozen.

Daylan’s death was crucial to her, so she entrusted the three captains—the organization’s most powerful entities—with the task. But things grew complicated when Daylan was pieced back together to convince everyone he was dead... yet somehow, he came back to life.

She grew furious, and from that moment, the organization changed forever. Silver, who had proposed the plan to kill Daylan, was sent to the bunker—a place where no one truly cared about its safety.

Left to her own devices, she made reckless decisions, driven by her desire to become the supreme lady she had always wanted to be.

It was a relief to know the hierarchy of the organization and also that there was mismanagement and chaos within the organization.

However, Medora was furious at Silver for orchestrating a plan to kill Daylan—and yet somehow sitting before him, speaking about it so casually.

Silver showed no emotion in response to her accusations—it was already dead, and emotions were foreign to it. Besides, it could not refuse an order from a Rhys; causing a Rhys pain was unthinkable. To Silver, pain meant allowing a Rhys to bleed by another’s hands.

"What’s so special about our family, anyway? And do Anti-Diviners really have a connection to the organization?" Daylan asked. Silver, still answering each question like a puppet, responded without hesitation.

The Rhys family was once one of the most respected in Honor City, known for their powerful and unusual abilities. They worked closely with the Church—until the head of the family at the time, Margret Rhys, grew sympathetic to the Anti-Diviners. She despised the Church herself and admired the Anti-Diviners’ cause.

The Church takes, but never gives back. After decades of service, all it offered in return was empty praise—never true reward.

So when the Anti-Diviners fell, the Rhys family took over and renamed themselves the Phantoms—vowing to live in the shadows and do as much good as they could from behind the scenes.

However, as time passed, each leader guided the organization in their own way. Some brought honor and strengthened their reputation, while others tarnished the family name and damaged their standing in society.

Silver turned to Daylan and locked eyes with him. "For over a century, the organization was finally earning the good reputation it deserved. But the moment Giselle entered the picture—and managed to secure the title of personal assistant from your father—everything began slipping back to how it was before Master Jose’s reign."

Silver’s voice grew steady and firm. "I know Giselle must be dethroned—and you’re the only one who can do it. As Titans, we cannot interfere in a battle between our masters."

It continued, "I’m begging you—destroy Giselle if you must, but not the organization. Master Margret’s vision must live on."

Daylan let out a lazy sigh and shook his head.

"How strong is my mother?"

"Giselle is powerful, but not through sheer strength. She possesses an ability called Lust—it allows her to bend people to her will using seductive words, as long as they feel any form of sexual attraction toward her."

Daylan smirked. Silver’s confirmation that his mother possessed a manipulation ability made him feel oddly satisfied—she hadn’t meant any of the words she once said to him, after all.

"Because of the small amount of blood she took from you when you were dismembered, she’s able to use Master Gerald’s artifact—at least for now. I don’t know how long it will last.

But even so, she’s not the one you should fear the most. It’s the captains and their recruiters you need to watch out for."

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