Lowell knew he needed to move—but his heavy body didn't respond the way he wanted. Even as the dagger flashed before him, he couldn't react.
If only I didn't have a fever...I wouldn't be like this.
Just then, a black barrier appeared in front of him, forming a shield. The man holding the dagger struck without hesitation. Light flared from the dagger's tip as it collided with the shield, attempting to pierce through. Though hastily formed, the shield was sturdy enough to hold for a moment—long enough for Lowell to twist his body away.
"Lowell!"
Felix's voice rang out from the far end of the ballroom as he rushed toward him. He closed the distance in a instant, but not fast enough to beat the assailant standing right before Lowell.
Thunk—
The sound of the dagger plunging into flesh echoed, and blood splattered across the ballroom floor. The once-thundering instruments fell silent. A heavy hush descended over the crowd.
"Ugh."
Twisting his body had spared his abdomen, but the blade loaded itself in his shoulder. It was a stroke of luck that Felix's intervention had made the wound shallow. But it didn't lessen the shock: someone had been attacked in the heart of a Royal banquet.
"How dare you..."
Felix's voice came out in a low, cold murmur—and at that moment, the palace knights finally sprang into action. The man who stabbed Lowell did not resist as they seized him. Lowell, resisting the urge to clutch at the wound, scanned the room sharply.
This was all a performance.
The palace security couldn't possibly this lax. The Emperor—or someone close to him—had allowed this to happen in purpose.
They wanted to see how Felix would react if I got hurt.
Kneeling, Lowell looked up at the Emperor. His face now bore the expressionless mask of perfect composure. And yet Lowell could see it—beneath the calm was a glimmer of joy.
You're so pleased you can't even pretend to be shocked or angry.
Forcing his blurred vision to focus, Lowell looked at Felix. Despite the shoulder wound not being life-threatening—thanks to magic keeping it under control—Felix stood paralyzed, face pale, hands trembling. He couldn't move closer. Compared to this, his reaction in the rain felt like nothing.
This is dangerous.
Even with pain flaring him, Lowell's attention was fixed solely on Felix. It had to be—black magic surge around Felix's feet. He had lost control.
For a mage of his caliber, that was serious. The stronger the magic, the worse the backlash when it slipped out of control.
Even if it wouldn't escalate into a full rampage like it had with the drugged champagne, the centric magic was still dangerous—and it gave the Emperor grounds to accuse him of misconduct.
"What have you done?"
The attacker, who had swung the dagger so brazenly, began to lose his smug smile as Felix's black magic wrapped around him. Before becoming the Demon King, Felix had never flaunted his power. Since mastering control of his abilities, he rarely let emotions show—expept on the battlefield. That meant few had ever seen this infamous magic firsthand.
"I asked you why you did this?"
A sword of pure magic formed in Felix's hand. He looked seconds away from cutting the man down unless given a convincing answer. The blade slowly pressed against the orange-scarved man's throat. Blood trickled down the edge and polled on the floor. Felix even resented that this man's blood was mixing with Lowell's.
"Grand Duke, incidents within the Imperial Palace are..."
A knight beside him tried to intervene, citing protocol; that such matters fell under the jurisdiction of the Palace Guard. But he trailed off, silenced by Felix's presence.
"So you're telling me to stand down?"
The knight back off. He feared that saying more would cost him his life. Right now, Felix saw everyone in the ballroom as an enemy.
"Grand Duke Felix. I understand your Omega has been harmed, but put away your sword. This is the Imperial Palace."
The Emperor finally spoke, rising from his throne. Only the most astute in the room could hear the quiet thrill hidden in his tone.
"Justice will be served. For now, obey. That's an Imperial order."
Felix didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on Lowell, bleeding before him. Not raising his sword in that moment was already the limit of his self-restraint.
Lowell, struggling to stay conscious, realized he had to stop Felix from outright defying the Emperor.
"Ugh..."
Felix's hand tensed. The blade pressed deeper in the man's neck. The Emperor began descending the stairs.
"Felix."
Lowell called his name, but Felix didn't react. Or perhaps he didn't hear. Seeing the Emperor move closer, Lowell whispered in a more despairing tone.
"It hurts, Grand Duke Felix."
Felix, who had seemed deaf to everything, flinched. Only after Lowell moaned again did he finally drop the sword and stumble toward him. He knelt at Lowell's side, stretching his hand out—but pulling it back again and again, unsure what to do.
"Grand Duke..."
Lowell reached out with his uninjured arm, wordlessly asking to be held. It wasn't out of a need for warmth—it was a calculated move to keep Felix from picking the sword back up.
"A-Are you okay?"
Felix gathered him into his arms. Though his presence radiated a bestial fury, like something protecting it's sounded cub, he tried to speak gently as he could. Seeing the black magic slowly settled, Lowell finally let out a sigh of relief.
"Please...call a priest."
Lowell's voice was fading. He still wanted to watch over Felix, but his body was reaching it's limit.
"You must...stay beside me."
Strangely, saying that made him feel certain Felix would.