Chapter 59: Venom and Vengeance
Little 9 stood before the Master once again, his face unreadable but his mind whirring. The Master, ever composed, folded his arms behind his back and spoke in a calm, measured voice.
"You wanted the truth," he said. "So here it is. The monster you dream of—it was real. It killed your parents to get to you. Because of your power."
Little 9's eyes narrowed. "And you just happened to save me."
"I found you after the massacre," the Master continued, unfazed by the skepticism in Little 9's voice. "You were barely breathing. The monster meant to use you, not kill you. I ended it and took you in. Raised you. Trained you. Everything I did was to protect you."
He stepped forward, placing a hand on Little 9's shoulder. "But you must understand—your lineage is not ordinary. You're from the bloodline of the Serpents. Snake-born. And with your birth came a bond—between your soul and the pot."
Little 9 tensed.
"Yes," the Master said softly. "That shabby old thing you keep… it's not just a relic. It is your anchor. As long as it exists, and your head remains attached to your body, you cannot truly die. The snake within the pot will always pull you back."
Little 9 clenched his fists. "So if they behead me…"
"You're gone forever," the Master confirmed. "Which is why you must never let them know. They think destroying the pot will end you, and that belief must remain."
Meanwhile, Elara and Ariella were desperate to find the very object the Shrouded One kept hidden. Their only hope lay with the Queens.
They stood once again beneath the ancient oak, closed their eyes, and reached out with their combined powers, calling to the ethereal presence of the Blue and White Queens. Wind stirred around them, and the world grew still as mist crept in—then came the vision.
The queens appeared as before, serene and powerful.
"You seek the pot," the White Queen said.
"But that path is clouded," the Blue Queen added. "He hides it well. You may never find it in time."
"There must be another way," Elara pressed.
"There is…" The White Queen's voice lowered. "But we were never able to find it in our time."
"His kind," the Blue Queen continued, "can only be truly slain by one of their own. You must forge a dagger from the bones of a snake—large and venomous. The greater the snake, the stronger the blade."
When the vision faded, the girls wasted no time. Deep in the nearby hills, they tracked a viper—massive and coiled like a guardian of the wild. After a fierce battle, they brought it down and began the forging process. They melded their magic with fire and stone, shaping the serpent's ivory bones into a sleek, curved dagger with a hilt that shimmered with protective runes.
It pulsed in Ariella's hand.
They waited.
And just as they feared, he returned.
The Shrouded One stood tall at the edge of the village, his eyes glowing with crimson intent. But something was different. He moved with purpose, unbound by confusion. He wasn't hiding in the shadows anymore.
He walked toward the village center, gaze steady, presence commanding.
Elara stepped forward. "You're back. Again."
Ariella followed, her grip on the dagger tight.
"Gone rogue from whoever's controlling you?" Elara asked sharply.
The Shrouded One smirked. "Who said anyone's controlling me? I'm here because I want to be. I deserve to rule this village."
"You know the truth," Ariella snapped. "You're not just doing this for yourself."
"You think you know everything," he replied, his voice dipped in sarcasm. "You don't. And I suggest you stop poking around where you don't belong."
"You're protecting someone," Elara said, eyeing him closely. "But we'll find out who."
The Shrouded One's smirk faded, and his fingers twitched. "Enough talk."
The fight erupted like thunder.
Energy crackled as Elara summoned a wall of vines to block his path, while Ariella leapt forward with the dagger in hand. The Shrouded One's eyes widened when he saw the blade, a flicker of dread flashing in his expression—but it was too late.
Ariella struck.
He dodged at the last moment, but the dagger scraped across his abdomen, slicing through the fabric and skin beneath.
A scream tore from his throat as searing pain coursed through his gut. It felt as though his insides were twisting, burning from the inside out. He stumbled back, breath ragged, and without another word—he fled.
The girls didn't chase him. Not this time.
They stared at the blood on the ground, the dagger pulsing with venomous energy in Ariella's grip.
"We almost had him," she whispered.
Back at the mansion, the Shrouded One staggered into the study, clutching his wound. The Master looked up, alarmed.
"You're hurt," he said.
"That dagger…" Little 9 rasped. "It nearly killed me. The pain—something was wrong with it. It wasn't like any blade I've ever faced."
The Master's face paled. "What dagger?"
"It was made from something which was not ordinary. I don't know what. "
The Master's eyes widened. "That shouldn't be possible. The pot protects you. You can only die if beheaded."
"I know what I felt," the Shrouded One growled. "It almost ended me."
The Master turned away, thoughts racing. If the dagger was truly a threat, it meant the girls had uncovered a secret even he didn't know.
"I'll find out what that weapon is," he said. "I'll make sure it never harms you again."
Little 9 said nothing. He watched the Master closely, hiding the swirl of vengeance in his gaze.
He'd play the obedient son for now.
But deep down, he made a promise to himself.
He would take from the Master what the man had stolen from him.
Everything.