My chest felt completely hollow, all the while, it was tearing open. My screams drowned, muffled by a relentless pounding... deafening... a heartbeat—it was my own. Rivers streamed down my cheeks as I pummeled Elias' back desperately.
"Let go of me, Elias! We must... we must help mother!" I cried, my voice quivering. The man was unstoppable in his tracks as he moved downstairs. "Elias... please! I beg!" This time, I struck his skull hard with my elbow, yet to no avail.
"Listen, young one," he said, striding toward the entrance, "You might not know it, but your mother was once a renowned mage in the army. We would be of little help to her."
"Elias! She will die! I know it!" As a last resort, I desperately bit down on his shoulder. He grunted, then seized me firmly beneath my armpits and held me up, forcing my gaze to meet his.
That was when I saw it—his eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "Aeron... we have no choice. Nor do we have the time. Accept it." Seeing the pain in his eyes, I broke into tears once again as I resigned myself to fate's mercy.
He put me back over his shoulder like a sack of grain as he opened the door to the garden—and what a spectacle. The news of an attacker had spread like fire. Servants scurried like ants, and some even carried stolen valuables from the mansion.
"Ungrateful vermin," Elias muttered bitterly. "After all my lady has done for them…"
Most horses had vanished from the stables; only one remained. Elias sprinted toward it, but as he approached, another man was already hastily fastening the saddle. It was Patrick, our cook—frantic, panicked, his eyes wide with terror.
The two men locked gazes in a tense standoff.
Kill or be killed.
But Patrick was too cowardly. He quickly mounted the horse, dug his heels into its sides, and fled into the night.
"I'm sorry..." he whined to himself. "I can't die here." He cast a final glance at us—at me, eyes full of pity.
A silhouette formed silently from the shadows, mist curling and coalescing into a human shape. Just as Patrick turned his head toward the woods, a flash of misty steel sliced effortlessly through the air. The horse shrieked, collapsing violently—all its four legs severed with precision in one swift, impossibly clean stroke. The beast shrieked as it thudded heavily into the dirt, kicking helplessly in a pool of spreading blood.
From the swirling shadow stepped the man with the piercing blue eyes, dark hair unruly around a face etched with cold, indifferent cruelty. His long coat drifted gently in the fading mist, his pale skin catching fragments of moonlight.
"Nobody leaves," he stated calmly, casually flicking the blood from his katana.
With deliberate grace, he sheathed the blade and drew another, its steel crimson and gleaming ominously in the pale moonlight.
Patrick crawled backward frantically, terror contorting his face, hands raised in desperate surrender. "Please!" he sobbed. "Mercy—please, spare—"
Plunged down Patrick's throat, the scarlet blade silenced his pleas instantly. Blood burst forth in sickening spurts, choking the cook's final cries into silence. The stranger withdrew his katana smoothly, droplets of blood tracing delicate arcs through the air.
Still shrouded in remnants of shadowy fog, he moved with elegance, dragging the bloody edge of the katana through the earth, carving a perfect circle around himself. Blood dripped from the crimson blade, pooling briefly before sinking strangely into the dirt.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then red light emerged from the ground as it trembled beneath our feet, a deep quake rattling the bones.
Suddenly, massive walls erupted violently from the earth—thin and impossibly high, glowing red like blood-stained glass. They rose sharply, encasing the entire mansion and the servants within its boundaries.
There is no escape.
Then the man vanished into a blur.
One, two, three, four—
I could barely follow his movements. He appeared suddenly behind the first servant, slicing viciously downward through his spine just as the man turned to flee. Blood gushed from the open wound, surging and twisting around the attacker like a serpent.
Flames sparked to life at his feet, swiftly tracing a burning circle into the earth. In an instant, the fire flared outward, engulfing the courtyard and consuming those unfortunate enough to still be standing. Servants screamed in anguish as their bodies ignited, becoming living torches that illuminated the horror unfolding before my eyes.
A terrified servant, desperate to escape, hurled himself against the translucent red barrier in a frantic attempt to break free. Instantly, the swirling blood snapped together into a tight, spinning sphere, then exploded outward, reshaping itself into dozens of thin, razor-sharp spears. The crimson projectiles impaled him mercilessly, pinning his lifeless body grotesquely against the impenetrable wall.
The slaughter continued....
Elias quickly lowered me from his shoulder and placed me firmly on the ground, kneeling to meet my gaze.
"Hide, Aeron," he commanded sharply, desperation etched deeply into his face.
"No..." I cried, clutching onto his leg with all the strength my small arms could muster.
He looked down at me, a faint, sorrowful smile appearing through his tightened expression.
"I appreciate your heart, child, truly," he whispered urgently, his voice trembling slightly. "But I am dispensable. You are not."
I shook my head stubbornly, gripping him even tighter, refusing to abandon him.
Yet in those few heartbeats, it was already too late. The courtyard had fallen silent, the screams extinguished. The mysterious killer stood before us now, calmly wiping blood from the edge of his katana, his ice-blue eyes fixed steadily upon Elias.
Elias grimaced, releasing a deep breath, resignation settling into his features. Slowly, he stepped forward, positioning himself protectively in front of me.
The stranger tilted his head slightly, eyes assessing Elias with detached interest. "A valiant and honorable man," he remarked softly, a hint of admiration lingering in his voice. "A rare sight indeed."
Elias straightened, defiance sparking within his tired eyes. "Why?" he spat, his voice heavy with disgust and sorrow. "Why do something so senseless, so cruel? They've done nothing to you."
A shadow of a smirk touched the man's lips, as though he found the question quaintly amusing. His voice, when he spoke, was eerily calm. "This mansion was mine," he said, almost conversationally, gesturing loosely with the tip of his blade. "And these insects were infesting my home. Consider this merely... a whim. A purge."
Elias stood there, eyes wide, utterly baffled by the man's response. It was as if he was struggling to comprehend the depths of such cruelty. "Is that it?" Elias asked, his voice shaking with disbelief. "You're doing this purely out of... wickedness? Are you simply evil?"
The stranger regarded him quietly, unperturbed, his expression detached and cold, stepping slowly toward him as arcs of blood— blood of his victims danced ominously behind his head.
Gathering his courage, Elias took a breath and raised his head defiantly. "If this is truly my final moment, would you grant a dying man one last request?"
"Let it be known," the stranger said, his voice low, indifferent.
Elias drew a steady breath, lifting his chin bravely as he faced certain death. "Then let this flesh of mine satisfy your thirst for blood as you rip through it. Do whatever you wish to me—just spare the child. He bears no sin, nor has he seen anything this world has to offer."
The stranger paused briefly, "I never had any intention of killing the child," he clarified, his katana rising steadily, preparing for a clean strike.
Before the blade could descend, I darted forward, sliding hopelessly in front of Elias, arms thrown wide, eyes clenched shut. Elias gasped, appalled, frozen by my sudden act of defiance.
The stranger merely smirked.
Then, without hesitation, his boot connected viciously with my face. Pain erupted—sharp and blinding, an explosion of agony unlike anything I'd ever known. The world spiraled violently around me, colors swirling together into a hazy mess. I tumbled helplessly to the ground, my mouth filling rapidly with warmth and copper. Something hard and brittle scattered from my lips, lost among the grass and dirt—teeth.
My head was spinning. Reality felt distant, distorted—like peering through a veil of rippling water.
Through the fog of pain, I faintly heard Elias roar, his voice thick with betrayal and fury: "You said you wouldn't harm him!"
With my vision fading, I glimpsed Elias lunging forward, throwing a fierce punch. The stranger effortlessly twisted aside, his body shifting fluidly into a graceful spin, narrowly avoiding the strike. In that same movement, he drove his katana deep into Elias's chest.
"I said I wouldn't kill him," the stranger clarified softly, a cold whisper amidst the chaos.
My lips parted weakly, desperate to call out. "Elias…" I tried, but nothing emerged beyond a strained whisper—a mere breath of sound drowned by my agony. The taste of iron filled my throat, choking, suffocating—
Then darkness swallowed me whole.