The dinner left behind an uneasy weight. For a household as vast and prosperous as Baron Darien's, the table had felt strangely empty. Too few servants drifted through the hall, their steps hushed as though afraid to be heard. The baron's wife was absent, and not a single word was spoken about her.
When it was over, the maids led us back through the dimly lit corridors, their lanterns flickering against the walls.
"My lord, my ladies," Sophie said with a curtsy, her voice faint, almost trembling. "We hope you have a pleasant night."
Her eyes betrayed her, a flicker of fear glinted in them like she was afraid of something… but of what?
"Cassian," I said as we stopped outside our chamber. "We'll see you in the morning. And one more thing—" I tapped the edge of my ear in the signal. "Keep it on at all times."
His nod was firm. "Goodnight."
We shut our doors behind us, the latch clicking softly. Vivian's gaze followed me as I moved about the room, slow and deliberate, scanning every corner. My fingers brushed the flowers in the vase on the windowsill, and I crushed one stem between them, subtly.
Across the room, Lux was already prowling Cassian's chamber, the faint flutter of his wings reassuring me. Nothing was there. Unlike ours.
"Let's head out," Vivian said suddenly, determination sparking in her voice. She turned toward the door, already reaching for the handle. "We need to find evidence."
"Relax," I drawled, dropping onto the bed with a soft thud. "The door's locked."
Her brows knit together as she tugged at the handle. It rattled once, twice unyielding.
"…It really is locked."
"Of course it is." I let my head fall back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded.
She turned to me, incredulous. "How did you know?"
"It's basic," I replied flatly.
Vivian's frown deepened, her shoulders tense. "Then what should we do? We can't investigate the territory or look for the missing knights if we're caged in here. If we're being locked up."
I watched her, silent for a moment. The knights… most likely corpses by now. At best, broken bodies left to rot in some ditch. But Vivian didn't need that truth. Not yet.
"You don't need to worry about it," I said at last. "It's being taken care of."
She tilted her head. "How?"
I gave a slight shrug, the corner of my mouth tugging upward in the faintest of smiles. "I have my ways."
Nox had already slithered through the mansion and out into the territory, I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd have to rip the veil off this place myself. For now, I waited—waited for Vivian's breathing to steady into sleep, waited for the night to thicken around us.
An hour passed before the shadows stirred and Nox slipped back in.
"You're back already."
His laugh was low, unhurried, dripping with amusement. "You won't believe what I found."
I could hear it in his voice; he was savoring something. A scent on the wind, a trail worth chasing.
"Well?" I asked, eyes narrowing. "What is it."
"This place stinks of blood, of rot and death," he said without hesitation. "The Commoners have barricaded themselves in their homes. Not a soul in the streets. Not a single knight patrolling. And every inn, every tavern shut tight as a coffin."
I narrowed my eyes. No inns, no pubs… not even drunkards stumbling in the dark? That wasn't just strange. That was deliberate.
"There's something rotten here, isn't there?" I grinned.
Nox continued, his grin cutting wide and sharp. "There was the trail. It started at the edge of the town. The ground soaked dark, mud clotted with dried blood. But that wasn't all." His voice dipped lower, almost reverent. "There were streaks of flesh, Shreds of skin caught in the grass. Finger bones, splintered clean. The ground wasn't just stained—it was carved through, as if something huge had dragged bodies along by force. The grooves ran deep, deeper than human strength could manage. Something was pulling them like cattle."
"The blood was still wet in places. Still warm." His eyes glinted like a predator savoring the scent.
"And you didn't follow it?"
"I didn't go further. The trail leads into the forest, and that part…" He chuckled, low and vicious. "That part is for you. It wouldn't be fun if I spoiled the hunt on the first night."
I exhaled slowly, He's right. That's not how we do things, letting my lips curve into a cold smile, mirroring his
We are predators, circling the same kill, waiting patiently for the moment to bare our fangs.
The next morning came too quickly. Pale light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, but the air was wrong too still, too quiet. No roosters crowed, no clatter of servants preparing for the day, no laughter of children outside the estate walls.
Vivian stretched, yawning, as if she'd actually slept peacefully. Cassian arrived soon after, his uniform neat as always, but there was a sharpness in his eyes; he'd noticed it too—the silence.
"Morning," I said casually, breaking a piece of bread at the table they'd set for us. The servants had laid out breakfast.
"Something's wrong here." Cassian kept his voice low, his hand tightening around his cup.
I smiled faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Took you long enough to notice."
Vivian frowned, glancing between us. "Do you mean the quiet that's been here since we arrived?"
"You noticed?" My gaze flicked to her, a hint of surprise in my voice.
"Why wouldn't I?" she replied, her tone sharper than usual. "This is the countryside. Villages wake before dawn. Farmers should already be in the fields, merchants opening their stalls. There should be footsteps, voices, animals. And yet—" She gestured at the stillness pressing around us. "Nothing."
I leaned back slightly, sipping my tea, letting the silence hang. A slow smile touched my lips. Good. She's sharper than she realizes.
They were like uncut gems raw but valuable. If I polished Cassian alongside Vivian, he too would gleam.
"Last night I sent someone to scout the territory. He found no knights, no taverns, no open doors. The villagers have locked themselves in their homes." I let the words sink in before adding, almost idly, "And he found a trail. Blood leading into the forest."
Vivian paled, fingers trembling slightly as she clutched her fork. "Blood?"
Cassian stiffened, his jaw tightening. "How much?"
"Enough." My tone was cool, clipped, but my eyes lingered on him, letting the unspoken answer hang heavy between us. Too much.
Silence fell over the table.
Then, with a forced brightness, I pushed my chair back and stood. "Well. No point sitting around. Baron Darien will expect us to play the part of carefree students so smile, eat, look harmless." My smile sharpened. "And when night falls, we'll see just how deep that blood trail runs."
"The day has only just begun," I said, setting down my cup with finality. "We'll head out and gather more evidence. But we won't be splitting up—" my eyes flicked between the two of them, firm, leaving no room for argument, "—not when we don't yet know what kind of enemy we're facing. It's safer to move as one."
Both Cassian and Vivian nodded, their expressions solemn, though I could sense their unease.
"Good," I said, rising from my chair, cloak falling into place around me. "Then let's not waste more time."
The three of us stepped out into the corridor, our footsteps unnervingly loud in the still air. The maids waiting by the entrance bowed stiffly.
"Are you leaving now, my lord, my ladies?" Sophie asked, her voice a nervous whisper.
"Yes," I replied simply. My smile was polite but deliberately edged. "The countryside is far too lovely to remain indoors, wouldn't you agree?"
Her throat bobbed as she nodded, clearly afraid to see us leave.
Once outside, The estate grounds were immaculate, yet eerily lifeless. Not a bird stirred in the trees, not a breeze rustled the leaves. Even the morning sun felt heavy, as if smothered by something unseen.
The path from the estate to the town was deceptively pleasant at first glance—cobblestone lanes, neat hedgerows, a stream glinting in the sunlight. But beneath the postcard scenery lay a silence that gnawed at the edges of every step we took.
The town should have been alive with the clamor of morning trade, the chatter of merchants, the cries of hawkers. Instead, shutters were drawn tight, doors bolted, and the streets stood empty. A cart sat abandoned by the well, its wheels caked with mud as though no one had touched it for days.
Vivian's brows furrowed. "Why is no one outside? Not even children?"
"They're probably hiding," I said quietly. "And when people hide, it's because they know exactly what they fear."
Cassian scanned the alleyways, his hand never straying far from his sword. He was tense, but not from the silence alone. His gaze lingered too often behind us.
"They're following," he muttered, low enough for only us to hear.
"I know," I said, tone flat. I hadn't needed Cassian's warning—shadows moved where they shouldn't, a flicker of boots vanishing around corners, the faint scrape of metal against stone. Baron Darien's hounds were on our heels.
Vivian leaned closer. "Should we confront them?"
"Not yet." I tugged my hood lower, masking the faint curl of a smile. "Let them think we haven't noticed. It'll be more useful to see how far they're willing to go."
As we walked deeper into the town square, the sense of being watched grew heavier, pressing down from every shuttered window. The sound of our own footsteps echoed unnaturally loud against the empty streets, the only rhythm in a town that felt drained of life.
Somewhere behind us, leather boots crunched in perfect unison. Too steady. Too rehearsed.
Vivian shivered. "It feels like we're in a graveyard."
I let my eyes flick to the alleys again, catching the gleam of a blade before it vanished into shadow. My voice was calm, measured, but sharp as a knife's edge.
"Then let's make sure we're the ones digging the graves, not the ones filling them."
The silence in the square was broken at last—not by townsfolk, but by the scrape of boots.
A line of men emerged from the alleys, their armor dull but serviceable, their expressions cold and practiced. Swords hung at their sides, though none were drawn yet. They fanned out slowly, boxing us in, until one stepped forward.
"Honored guests," he said with an oily politeness that set my teeth on edge. "My lord Baron requests that you return to the estate at once. He worries for your safety here."
I tilted my head, feigning amusement. "Oh? And here I thought the Baron entrusted us with his hospitality. Strange way to treat guests—sending dogs to fetch them back."
The man's jaw tightened. "Please. Do not make this difficult."
Vivian's hand twitched, Cassian shifted, placing himself between her and the nearest soldier. Their unease was palpable, but they held firm.
I smiled thinly, letting silence hang for a heartbeat too long before answering. "Difficult? My, what an interesting word. Do you mean for us… or for you?"
That broke the thin thread of civility.
The men closed in like a tightening noose. Steel gleamed, boots scraped on cobblestones, and their "politeness" dissolved into something raw and ugly.
I sank down onto a low stone bench at the edge of the square, legs crossed, chin resting on my hand. To them, I might have looked careless. To Cassian and Vivian, I wanted it to sting.
"Go on then," I said lightly, almost bored. "Show me what you've learned."
Their faces flickered shock, then grim determination. There was no time to argue.
The first blow came fast, a sword whistling toward Cassian's throat. He barely caught it, the clash of steel shrieking as sparks flew. The force sent him staggering back, his boots scraping across the stones. The man pressed, merciless, swinging again and again.
Cassian gritted his teeth, his own blade answering strike for strike, each clash ringing through the empty square. His knuckles split against the hilt, blood slicking his grip.
Another soldier lunged at Vivian. She raised her bare hands, words spilling from her lips in sharp, vicious syllables. Air cracked like a whip—an invisible force slammed into the man's chest, knocking him back a few steps. But he didn't stop. He came at her again, and this time she met him head-on. A burst of flame shot from her palm, searing across his arm. The stench of burned flesh filled the air.
He screamed but swung anyway, catching her side with the edge of his blade. Red bloomed across her dress.
Vivian's face twisted in pain, but she did not falter. Her hand shot forward, a raw surge of wind exploding from her palm with enough force to break bone. The man's neck snapped at a crooked angle as he was thrown into the cobblestones. He didn't rise.
Another two closed on Cassian. One caught his arm, cutting deep—blood spattered across his cheek as he roared and drove his sword through the man's gut. He wrenched it free with a wet rip, spinning to parry the next attack. The impact jarred through him, his stance buckling, but he held.
From my seat, I let my shadows slide out, just a whisper. A tendril curled across the ground, catching the ankle of the man Cassian fought. He stumbled only a fraction, but enough. Cassian's blade bit through his shoulder, cleaving deep into flesh and bone.
Vivian's breathing grew ragged as she forced spell after spell. A soldier grabbed her wrist, twisting it brutally until bone nearly cracked. She screamed, fury cutting through pain, and flames erupted point-blank into his face. He dropped, skin blistered and blackened, the smell nauseating.
"Messy," I murmured under my breath, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
They bled, they staggered, but they didn't stop. Cassian fought with dogged ferocity, every strike wild but driven, survival carved into each motion. Vivian's magic was raw and vicious, every spell a whipcrack of flame, wind, or raw force that left her trembling afterward.
Another came from behind, blade raised for Vivian's back. I flicked two fingers. A shadow speared upward from the ground, tripping him hard. Vivian whirled, saw her chance, and blasted him point-blank with a surge of raw force so strong his ribs caved in.
The square grew quiet at last. Bodies littered the stones, blood pooling dark and thick, the air choked with the scent of iron and smoke.
Vivian fell to one knee, clutching her side, sweat plastering her hair to her face. Cassian leaned on his blade, chest heaving, his shoulder pouring crimson.
I rose from the bench at last, unhurried, stepping through the carnage as though strolling through a garden. My gaze swept the mess they'd made, then fell on them.
"Not bad," I said softly, almost approving. Then, sharper: "But sloppy. Too much wasted motion. Too much hesitation. You bled for nothing that should have cost you nothing."
Their heads snapped toward me, pride and exhaustion warring in their eyes.
I smiled thinly, shadows curling faintly at my feet. "Still… that's a start."
"Here. Drink these," I said as I handed them high-grade healing potions. "It'll mend your injuries."
They obeyed without question, downing the high-grade healing potions, color slowly returning to their faces as wounds knitted shut.
I stood in the middle of the blood-stained square, still as stone, untouched by their struggle. Around us it reeked of iron and burnt flesh. My voice cut through it, low and cold, carrying weight like a blade.
"You should have listened." My voice was cold, distant, carrying through the silence like a verdict. "But you chose to bleed."
Then I moved. A shadow given form, sharp, unyielding. They had fought to restrain. I never restrained myself.
I raised one hand, fingers curling in an elegant gesture. My tone devoid of mercy.
"Ice Lance."
The air split with a hiss. Spears of frozen crystal tore through the men littered on the ground. Bodies convulsed as blood erupted, staining the cobblestones in spreading pools of crimson. Their last groans dissolved into silence.
Cassian froze, trembling, his face paling as the reality set in. "You… you killed them." His voice cracked on the words.
I looked at him, unblinking, as if staring at something fragile that would soon break.
Vivian's eyes widened, horror flickering in their depths as the frost-coated corpses glistened in red pools.
I turned to them slowly, deliberately, my eyes gleaming with calm. My tone cut like a blade of ice.
"They didn't deserve to live."
I stepped closer, boots echoing against the stones sticky with blood. Shadows clinged to me, curling like serpents.
"Remember this . Hesitation kills. Fear kills. This world does not care for your morality. It chews the weak and spits out their bones. If you cannot cut down those who come for your life…"
I paused, lips curving—not warmly, not kindly, but into something sharp and unsettling. A smile that belonged to a predator savoring the hunt.
"…then you are already dead."
The smile lingered as I looked between them, enjoying the way their eyes widened, the way their breaths grew uneven.
That was the lesson, the reality. And it was only the beginning.
To be continued.