Chương 24: I Am Entertained, But…

The three S-ranks came for me again, and I welcomed them. I had grown tired of waiting. Garron Thorne charged from the front, his boots cracking the broken stone beneath him. Force pulsed across the runes carved into his gauntlets, and every heavy step sent another tremor through the courtyard. Silas Crowe vanished from my sight, slipping through space with the ease of a blade passing through silk. Behind them, Mirelle Ashford raised both hands, and the earth answered her with a deep, tortured groan.

Stone spears erupted around me from every direction. The first tore through my side. Another punched through my shoulder, while a third carved across my thigh deeply enough to expose bone for a heartbeat before flesh closed over it again. Pain flashed through me, bright, clean, and almost refreshing. Laughter tore from my throat. There was nothing polite or entirely sane in the sound. It rolled across the courtyard as I ripped myself free from the stone impaling my shoulder and lunged toward Garron.

His eyes widened for the smallest fraction of a second; the confidence he'd shown so far was cracking. I reached him before he could fully raise his guard. My claws raked across his chest, tearing through reinforced leather, skin, and muscle. His blood sprayed hot across my fingers. Garron roared and drove one gauntlet into my ribs. The shockwave detonated through my body. Bones shattered beneath the blow. Several organs ruptured, and the force hurled me backward hard enough to tear my feet from the ground.

I struck the courtyard, rolled once through the debris, and returned to my feet with a grin spreading across my face before the pain had even finished introducing itself. My ribs snapped back into place beneath my skin. The torn organs knitted together. Garron stared at me as though the rules of the world had betrayed him personally.

"What are you?" he growled. I lifted one bloody hand and licked the blood from my thumb.

"Excited." Silas appeared behind me. His sword drove through my back and burst from my stomach in a spray of blood. Vera screamed somewhere behind me, while Celeste shouted my name with considerably more anger than fear. I looked down at the blade protruding from my body. Then I reached over my shoulder, grabbed Silas by the hair, and slammed the back of my skull into his face. His nose shattered beneath the impact. Silas vanished with a curse, leaving his sword buried inside me.

I wrapped one hand around the blade, dragged it free, and threw it toward the place where he reappeared. The sword missed him by less than an inch. He stood near Mirelle with blood pouring over his mouth, one hand pressed against his broken nose. The amusement had vanished from his eyes. Seeing them broken gave me an even greater sense of joy. Mirelle struck her staff against the earth. Chains of stone erupted from the courtyard and wrapped around my arms.

They tightened with crushing force, grinding against flesh and bone until both arms snapped. I glanced down at the restraints before raising my gaze to her. She was clever, disciplined, and far too composed for a woman standing so close to death.

"I can bury you," she warned. A smile touched my lips.

"You can try." The chains tightened again. My broken arms healed inside them, only for the stone to snap the bones a second time. I laughed harder; Mirelle's expression faltered. She poured more power into the spell. Stone spread from the chains and climbed across my shoulders, chest, and throat, encasing me piece by piece. Darkness closed over my eyes. Rock pressed against my mouth and lungs, sealing me inside a tomb built in the middle of the courtyard. I could've ended the spell instantly.

A single pulse of violet ruin would have reduced the stone to dust and likely taken Mirelle with it. Malcolm's throat, however, still rested beneath Duke Vale's dagger, annoyingly so… My claws dug into the stone around my wrists. Muscle tore beneath my skin, and tendons screamed as I forced my arms apart. The prison resisted, crushing tighter as my bones strained against it. Cracks formed in my arms. Then those cracks spread into the spell, and I pulled. The stone shell exploded outward.

Fragments tore across the courtyard like shrapnel. One shard buried itself in Garron's shoulder. Another sliced open Silas's cheek and Mirelle staggered backward as a jagged piece cut across her brow. I stepped from the ruins of her prison and rolled my neck until the vertebrae settled comfortably back into place.

"That was better," I told her.

"Do it again." Garron's grin returned, though it had become thin and strained around the edges.

"You're insane."

"No," I answered as I charged him.

"I'm entertained." Over these past eighty years I've never had to stretch my body to this extent. I felt every part of me growing even stronger, as if I were learning from the pain. He met me with both fists raised. Shockwaves and raw strength collided with my claws. His first punch broke my jaw. My claws sank into his forearm and tore muscle from bone. His second strike caved in my left shoulder. I caught his wrist between my teeth and ripped away a mouthful of flesh.

Garron drove his knee into my stomach with enough force to fold a normal body in half. I spat blood into his face. The soldiers behind him had stopped advancing. Most stood frozen, watching their champion trade blows with something that refused to remain wounded. I could hear their uneven breathing and the prayers whispered beneath it. Their denials drifted through the courtyard in frightened whispers, each one repeating the same impossible truth. Monster… at last, they understand.

Garron roared and brought both gauntlets down toward my skull. I twisted beneath the blow, and the shockwave tore past me before crashing into the courtyard hard enough to leave a crater in the stone. I rose inside his guard and slashed upward. My claws tore across his throat, opening a bloody line from one side to the other, though not deeply enough to finish him. Garron staggered back as blood poured down his neck and pain sharpened the fury in his eyes. Silas appeared to my left with a dagger in each hand.

His attacks came quickly and with brutal precision, each blade searching for tendons, eyes, throat, inner thigh, and every vulnerable place an experienced assassin knew how to exploit. They were intelligent targets. One dagger drove toward my ribs, and I turned into the attack, letting the blade slide between them so his hand became trapped against my body. Silas's eyes widened. I smiled inches from his face.

"Caught you." He tried to vanish. Both of my hands locked around his wrist, and I twisted before space could take him. A bone snapped inside my grip. Silas disappeared, but not before his scream split the air. He reappeared twenty paces away, cradling his ruined arm. One of his daggers remained lodged between my ribs. I pulled it free and tossed it aside as the wound closed. Duke Vale's voice cracked from the balcony.

"You're using magic!" I looked up. He still held Malcolm, though the dagger had begun to tremble in his hand. Malcolm's head sagged forward while blood dripped from his mouth and the shallow cut beneath his jaw. Rage crawled up my spine. The hunger of battle burned even hotter.

"No," I called back.

"It's a passive. I cannot turn it off." Vale's face twisted. I pointed one blood-covered claw toward him.

"So shut the fuck up." Celeste made a strange sound behind me, caught somewhere between disbelief and laughter. Adrian said nothing. He was occupied driving a stolen spear through one soldier's thigh while keeping another from reaching Vera. Still, I knew he had heard me. He probably approved. Neither Adrian nor Celeste had escaped the fighting untouched. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

Adrian's coat hung open in several places, and blood darkened one sleeve from a deep cut across his arm. A bruise had begun forming along Celeste's cheek, while a shallow wound crossed her forearm. Their injuries wouldn't last, but regeneration always demanded payment. Blood… always blood. The more our bodies healed, the more the thirst awakened. I could feel it through the line binding us. Adrian's hunger remained controlled, locked behind walls of discipline and purpose.

Celeste's thirst was sharper and far less patient, prowling beneath her skin like a cat with knives for paws. They would need to feed soon, and if I were being honest, so would I. The S-ranks, however, still demanded my attention. Mirelle raised both arms, and the courtyard split apart around me. Walls of earth surged upward behind me and along both sides, while Garron stood directly ahead, bleeding heavily and grinning through bloodstained teeth.

Silas appeared atop the wall to my right, one arm hanging uselessly at his side while the other held a fresh blade. They were attempting to trap me inside a cage of stone and steel. Adorable…

"Now!" Mirelle shouted. Garron struck first. His shockwave crashed into me from the front as Mirelle's walls slammed inward from three sides. Silas vanished. For one heartbeat, crushing force surrounded me from every direction. I dropped low. Silas appeared directly above, his blade descending toward the base of my skull. Without looking, I reached up and caught his ankle. His eyes widened. I yanked him from the air.

The blade missed my neck as his body struck the courtyard hard enough to crack the stone beneath him. Before he could vanish, I drove my claws through his chest. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged. My fingers pushed through shattered ribs until his heart stuttered against my palm.

"Teleport away from that," I shouted. Silas Crowe stared up at me, the famed Vanishing Blade finally trapped in one place. I leaned closer.

"You should've left." Then I tore his heart from his chest. Silence swallowed the courtyard as every soldier stared at the organ clenched in my hand. The stillness lasted only half a breath before I crushed it between my fingers. Silas would never vanish again. The first S-rank was dead, and the sight of him lying motionless struck the remaining army with more fear than any spell could have inspired. Garron answered with a furious shout and charged. This time, fury drove him rather than confidence.

Perhaps it was grief, or it was simply the rage of a man who had watched the rules of his world break in front of him. Garron swung one gauntlet toward me, and I accepted the blow against my shoulder. My bone shattered beneath the impact, but instead of retreating, I stepped closer while my body began repairing the damage. He struck again. I ducked beneath the second punch and swept my claws across his stomach, tearing through armor and flesh in one violent motion.

Garron tried to drive his knee into my body, but I struck his thigh before he could complete the attack. The bone broke beneath my fist, and his leg buckled as he staggered sideways. Mirelle seized the opening and launched a spear of stone directly toward my head. I tilted aside just enough to avoid it. The spike tore through my cheek instead, exposing teeth before the wound sealed itself. I smiled at Mirelle, and the disdain twisting her features could no longer conceal the fear beneath it.

Garron attempted to unleash another shockwave, but his broken leg collapsed before he could complete the attack. I caught hold of one gauntlet as he fell and tightened my grip. He tried to wrench himself free. I pulled harder. Metal screamed beneath the strain before the gauntlet tore away with his hand still trapped inside it. Garron roared and stumbled backward as blood sprayed from the ruined stump. I followed before he could recover and drove my fist into his throat.

The first blow crushed the cartilage, while the second collapsed what remained. My third strike broke something deep enough to silence his roar. Garron dropped to his knees, choking on his blood, yet somehow remained alive. Impressive… I took his head between both hands and held him there for one final moment. His eyes met mine, stripped of every trace of the laughter and confidence he had carried into the fight.

"You should've taken my warning to heart," I whispered. It brought me no joy killing these individuals. But they stood against me, and this was inevitably their fate. Then I twisted. His neck broke with a wet crack. I released him, and Garron Thorne collapsed beside the remains of Silas Crowe. Two S-ranks were dead with only one remaining. Mirelle Ashford was a woman supposedly worth hundreds of soldiers, yet in that moment, she looked like someone standing in a graveyard she had unknowingly helped dig.

She took a single step backward. It was a small retreat, but we both noticed it, and neither of us could pretend it hadn't happened.

"No," I said softly.

"Don't become sensible now. It ruins the mood." Mirelle's jaw tightened. The stones around her began to rise. Dozens became hundreds. Shards, slabs, shattered statues, and broken tiles lifted into the air until they circled her in a storm made entirely of earth.

"I will bury you beneath the bones of this city if I must," she said. My smile widened.

"You can try." She unleashed everything, sending stones toward me from every angle. I ran directly through the storm. A slab shattered my left arm, but the bone had already begun knitting itself together before my next step. A spike punched through my stomach, and I snapped off the exposed length without slowing. Shards sliced across my face, arms, throat, and legs. Blood filled the air around me, but every wound refused to be a hindrance to my forward motion.

My dress had been reduced to strips of black and violet cloth clinging to a body. My silver-white hair had come loose and whipped wildly around my face. I must have looked dreadful or wonderful, depending on your taste. Mirelle slammed her staff into the earth, and the courtyard split open beneath my feet. I leapt before the pit could swallow me, only for a sharpened pillar of stone to surge upward and meet me in the air. Rather than avoid it, I landed in a crouch atop its narrow point and rode it higher.

Mirelle's eyes widened as I pushed away from the rising stone and launched myself directly toward her. She raised a wall between us, but my claws struck first and split the surface apart. A second barrier formed behind it, and I tore through that one as well. When a third rose, I lowered my shoulder and smashed through it in an explosion of shattered stone. Mirelle began forming a fourth wall, but I had already crossed the remaining distance. My hand closed around her throat.

She raised one hand, summoning a stone around my wrist in a desperate attempt to crush my grip.

"Monster," she rasped.

"Yes." It was something I couldn't deny. My fingers tightened. Her staff slipped from her hand. The storm of floating stone collapsed around us, striking the courtyard in a series of thunderous crashes. I looked toward the balcony. Duke Vale stared down at me with horror carved across his face. Then I returned my attention to Mirelle.

"You were the smartest of the three." Her eyes narrowed despite the pressure around her throat.

"For that, I will make it quick." My claws flashed. Her head separated cleanly from her body. All three S-ranks were dead. I held Mirelle Ashford's severed head by the hair and turned toward the remaining soldiers. For several stunned seconds, no one moved. Some finally dropped their weapons, while others abandoned the courtyard and fled toward the gates without waiting for an order. A few of the truly foolish remained near Adrian, Celeste, and Vera. They didn't remain standing for long.

Adrian moved with brutal efficiency, his sword cutting through armor, muscle, and tendon. Celeste fought close beside him with her dagger in one hand and a stolen short sword in the other. Celeste was no master of close combat, but she had no need to be. Speed, strength, immortality, and fury compensated for whatever finesse she lacked, especially after spending far too long being underestimated. Adrian covered every weakness in her defense, while Celeste exploited each opening he created.

A soldier's blade cut across her ribs, but the wound closed before he could recover his stance. She hissed as her eyes darkened. Another attacker managed to slice Adrian's shoulder, and his expression turned glacial. Their mounting thirst surged through the bloodline. Adrian finally caught one soldier by the throat and sank his fangs into the man's neck. The soldier screamed once. Celeste froze for the smallest fraction of a second. Then another man lunged toward Vera.

She caught him by the jaw, drove him backward against the railing, and bit into his throat. Vera became utterly petrified. Her eyes widened as the truth of House Vaust unfolded fully before her. Vera stared at the blood coating their mouths, the fangs buried in flesh, and the soldiers being drained before her eyes. The truth was no longer elegant, distant, or safely confined to frightened rumors. It was real. I watched Vera from across the courtyard and almost pitied the poor princess.

What else were we supposed to do? A smile touched my lips as I hurled Mirelle's head toward Duke Vale. It struck the balcony near his feet and rolled across the stone before coming to rest against the railing, its eyes still open. Vale staggered backward with a strangled curse while I stepped over Garron's body and raised my gaze toward him.

"What now, you piece of shit?" My voice carried across the ruined courtyard, and no one dared interrupt as I pointed one claw toward Malcolm.

"I will allow you to leave if you release him now." Celeste and Adrian both looked sharply toward me, recognizing the lie immediately. Perhaps Vale did not.

"Release him, and you may crawl back into whatever hole bred you. Refuse, and I will send you to hell slowly enough that hell itself grows impatient waiting." Vale's face twisted beneath a pathetic mixture of fear, rage, and humiliation, the familiar expression of a man who had finally realized there was nowhere left to run. His grip tightened around the dagger. I saw the movement before his expression changed.

The decision revealed itself in the twitch of his wrist, and I launched forward the instant I understood what he intended. The distance between us was too great. Even for me. Vale dragged the blade across Malcolm's throat before I could reach him. Vera's scream tore through the courtyard as blood opened in a bright line beneath his jaw. Then Vale shoved him over the balcony, and Malcolm fell. For one terrible second, the world seemed to stretch around his body.

He dropped limply through the air, blood trailing behind him like a red ribbon. I jumped. Stone shattered beneath my feet as I launched myself upward. My hands caught Malcolm before he struck the ground. His blood spilled across my arms, hot and frighteningly fast. His eyes fluttered and his mouth moved, but no sound escaped. I threw him over one shoulder and planted one foot against the balcony railing, twisting my momentum forward. Vale staggered backward, but he had always been too slow.

I landed in front of him before he could escape. The duke had barely enough time to recognize me before my fist drove through his stomach and tore out the other side. Bone, flesh, organs, and spine gave way beneath my arm. My hand burst from his back in a ruin of blood and expensive silk. Vale's eyes widened with astonishment, as though some part of him still couldn't believe that consequence had finally reached him.

"I..." he choked. His hands trembled against my arm.

"I don't want to die." I leaned close enough for him to see his reflection inside my violet eyes.

"Too late, you old bastard." Then I tore my arm free, and Duke Edmund Vale collapsed at my feet. The man, who had traded lives, purchased chains, buried wives, and reached for a princess as though she were merely another possession had finally met his end. He twitched against the balcony floor, clinging to the final scraps of a life he had spent believing belonged above everyone else's. I had no intention of leaving even those behind.

Violet ruin gathered around my blood-soaked hand and fell across his body in a wave. Flesh, bone, silk, and whatever remained of Duke Edmund Vale dissolved beneath the violet light. His body unraveled into nothing, leaving only a blackened scar across the stone where a powerful man had once believed himself untouchable. No grave would carry his name, and no body would be returned to his family. Nothing remained for Stonehaven to mourn. I turned away as the last traces of him vanished.

Malcolm remained draped across my shoulder, and his blood soaked through what remained of my clothing. Below, Vera fought desperately to reach the balcony while Celeste held her back. Adrian stood beside them with blood staining his mouth and his eyes fixed upon me. He knew what I had already realized. Celeste knew as well. Malcolm's heartbeat was fading far too quickly. Medicine wouldn't reach him in time, and neither stitches nor mortal hope could repair what Vale had done.

Vera looked up at me, her face shattered by terror.

"Please!" she screamed.

"Save him!" I lowered my gaze toward the dying man across my shoulder before looking back at her. My attention shifted to Celeste, whose eyes pleaded even though her mouth remained silent, and then to Adrian, who stood ready to accept whatever decision I made. A long, exhausted sigh escaped me, carrying the weight of blood, battle, and yet another complication I had never asked to carry.

"Of course it had to happen this way." I mumbled to myself. Duke Vale was gone, three S-ranks lay dead, and an army had broken beneath my feet. Yet somehow, the night still demanded more from me.