While he was still startled, she gripped the chains of her iron cuffs and pulled on them as hard as possible.
The few loose screws that she mad managed to pry a couple of hours ago, gave in. The chains yielded. At the same time, she reached out her bare hands to gripped the blade, and pulled it off her neck, then swung it all the way across the room.
Kazimir's head snapped that direction. But within seconds, a sharp metallic edge touched his neck from behind.
He turned around.
Aefia stood straight on her two feet, holding a black sword that held him at a precarious standing ground. She pushed it further. Because his head was right next to a wall, he was trapped.
"You really like to be a shitty person, don't you?" She asked. Her voice ringing out loudly throughout the cell. "How does it feel to be the one at the vulnerable position now?"
He stayed silent, glaring up at her. Upstairs, loud footsteps of guards heading their way vibrated. But none made a move to cover up their tracks.
More than that, Aefia didn't seem to be trying to hide her evidences too.
"Alright fine, you win. But what now? Are you going to kill me? Then what was the point in doing all that?" He finally spoke.
"The Mides throne is unstable as it is. And my anger can only be quenched this way." She pulled her blade back a bit. "And who said I was going to kill you this easily? Firstly, I will eliminate the lords and graces who supported you and held you up."
Before he could open his mouth to shoot her a reply, Aefia knelt down to grip his collar and pulled his face up.
"Where is my sword?" She asked, her eyes glowing a bright red in the dim area.
"What sword?" He groaned.
"The one you all confiscated that day at the eastern gates."
"If I answer, what will you do?" He smirked.
She didn't reply. She simply shifted her grip to his hair, and drop his head backwards into the wall.
Thud!
And again.
Thud!
And another time.
Thud!
Blood welled down the wall, heavily. It splattered across her feet, and even covered half of his face in it. His vision blurred, his head throbbing. The blood-essence in his veins only made matters worse. It made his bones hurt.
The wall was slightly cracked from the intensity of the hit.
Aefia didn't let go. Her fingers remained locked tight in his navy-blue hair, holding his head back against the bloody smear on the wall.
"I am not asking a second time, Jack," Aefia whispered, her voice dangerously flat, completely devoid of the mocking theatricality from moments before. "Where is my sword?"
For once, a shiver ran up his arms.
She smiled at the feedback. "Oh, look at that? Now, do you regret having ever fought me?"
He gritted his teeth, his golden eyes hazy from the sudden concussion. "You fool. I am not going to die after this."
"Of course you aren't. I have already told you what I wanted. And I knew how much of a cockroach you are." She finally let go, standing up.
She turned to leave through the cell door. Her fingers wrapped around the bars to push it open, but it was locked.
She let out an exhausted and irritated sigh. Aefia dragged her steps back inside, and lifted her boots to kick him directly at his stomach. It knocked him out.
Bending down, she picked up the keys and walked out like absolutely nothing had happened.
The heavy iron cell door swung shut behind her with a dull, hollow clang, locking Kazimir in the gloom with his own bloody reflection.
Aefia turned down the subterranean corridor, her black sword held loosely at her side.
She didn't run. She didn't even hasten her step.
At the end of the stone passageway, a dozens-strong squad of palace guards rounded the corner, their iron-plated armor clanking in frantic unison. Anti-magic spears were leveled instantly at her heart, the men bellowing orders that bled into meaningless background noise.
Aefia's face remained eerily serene—a chilling void devoid of rage, adrenaline, or fear.
When the lead guard lunged, she simply leaned her torso an inch to the left. The spearhead whistled past her cheek, brushing a loose strand of dark hair.
Before the man could reset his stance, Aefia brought the heavy pommel of her sword crashing upward into the gap beneath his helm. Steel smashed against jaw. He went down instantly, his armor clattering against the stone like falling scrap metal.
Did she just move as if she was only a specter navigating a quiet garden? A guard wondered.
Another swung a heavy broadsword from her flank; she stepped into his guard, catching his wrist, and slammed her elbow directly into the bridge of his nose. A blade whipped toward her ribs; she casually parried the blow, the sharp reverberation echoing off the stone, and swept his back knee with a ruthless kick.
None of them were able to even graze her.
With precise, bone-crunching efficiency, she dismantled the battalion one by one—using their own momentum, armor gaps, and heavy shields against them. She didn't spill a drop of blood, but she executed each strike with control.
Within minutes, the corridor fell deathly quiet. Aefia stepped over the unconscious, groaning bodies of fifteen armored men, her expression utterly unchanged as she wiped a smudge of dust from her cheek and vanished into the staircase ahead.
While exiting, she reached into the air right beside her and pulled out a sage green vest from her magic's inventory. She shoved her arms into the fabric and buttoned it tight, covering the blood-stains on her white shirt.
A cape trailed off one shoulder as she marched up to meet, yet, another set of guards.
"The prisoner had escaped! Quick with it!" The leader shouted.
Aefia clicked her tongue on annoyance. "I am so done with all this drama."
She took another step, and a violent gush of wind shook the very foundation of the palace. When the debris cleared, she was gone from plain sight.
"Search every corner! We need to find and protect the King!"
Aefia peeked out from a pillar, amusment making her tremble out of the sheer intensity of it.
***
Aefia slipped through the shadows of the palace, moving like a phantom woven from smoke and cold spite. The guards were scrambling in utter chaos, their frantic shouts echoing uselessly down the vast marble hallways.
None of them looked up at the vaulted ceilings, and none noticed the subtle distortion in the air as she walked right past them, heading straight for the heart of the kingdom's authority: the Grand Throne Room.
The double doors of the sanctuary were guarded by two high-ranking knights, but they were far too focused on the rising smoke in the south wing to notice the silent shift in the air behind them.
Aefia didn't even bother knocking them out. She simply slipped past the threshold like a draft of winter wind, stepping onto the plush crimson carpet that stretched toward the high dais.
There, sitting on a velvet-lined pedestal right beside the grand throne like a captured trophy, was Spectrum.
The dark, double-edged blade rested inside an enchanted display case made of thick, spell-tempered glass. Its surface hummed faintly, reacting to her presence.
The white scabbard stayed dust-free.
Aefia walked up the stairs of the dais without missing a beat. She stood before the glass, her garnet eyes reflecting the faint, starry pattern of the sword inside.
Raising her bare, bandaged right hand balled it into a tight fist, she smashed the glass into tiny exploding pieces that scattered to every corner of the room.
A few stray splinters bit into her knuckles, but Aefia didn't so much as blink. She reached into the ruin of the display case and wrapped her fingers around the familiar hilt of Spectrum.
The moment her skin touched the hilt, a violent surge of dark, familiar magic rushed through her veins. The stars flared brilliantly, consuming the lingering dark-magic residue left by Kazimir's lock. The weight of the blade in her hand felt right—an extension of her own stubborn, bloodthirsty soul.
"Missed me, didn't you?" she muttered under her breath, a quiet, dangerous smile curving her lips.
[Master... Where have you been?!]
"Sigh... I fought through hell for you, and this is the question I am met with?"
She swung the sword once, clearing the air with a sharp, whistling arc, before resting the flat of the heavy blade against her shoulder.
Instead of heading for the hidden exit, Aefia turned on her heel and walked toward the towering arched doors that led to the central balcony of the throne room. With a heavy kick, she shoved the double doors open, stepping out into the cool evening air.
The view before her was breathtaking in its sheer, chaotic destruction.
Across the palace grounds, the entire south wing was engulfed in a roaring column of violet and crimson flames. The mountain reserve wagon line—the very magic crystals Kazimir had been so eager to mobilize—had detonated right on schedule.
The structural pillars of the wing were crumbling like dry chalk, sending massive plumes of ash and spark-laden smoke spiraling into the darkening sky.
Aefia leaned her hip casually against the stone balustrade, taking in the inferno with a calm, almost critical eye.
She knew the second transport load wouldn't be arriving anytime soon. The supply commanders at the mountain pass were no doubt watching the horizon burn; the moment the shockwave reached them, they would have halted the wagons and turned back, terrified of running straight into an ambush. Kazimir's precious supply line wasn't just disrupted—it was completely annihilated.
"You built your empire on stolen blood and silence, Jack," she murmured, watching a spire collapse into the courtyard below with a thunderous roar. "It's only fitting it burns in light."
Aefia turned away from the balcony, but her work wasn't done yet. She wasn't just here to break out; she was here to erase every trace of the Mides legacy that had sought to chain her.
She strolled back into the palace corridors, her boots clicking rhythmically against the pristine marble floors.
Whenever she passed a portrait of the royal lineage—the proud, arrogant faces of past kings, grand dukes, and Kazimir's stolen vessel—Aefia stopped.
She didn't use a torch. She simply lifted her left hand, pressed her blood-crusted thumb against the canvas, and left a small, dark drop of her blood on the frames.
The moment her blood seeped into the fabric, her powers ignited it.
A sudden, intense burst of deep red fire consumed the portraits instantly. The flames didn't spread to the surrounding wood or curtains right away. Instead, they ate through the paint and canvas with terrifying, surgical speed, turning centuries of royal history into black ash in a matter of seconds.
She did it to the ancestral hall. She did it to the grand gallery. She did it to the private study of the ministers.
Aefia walked through the halls like a silent, methodical catastrophe. Every face that represented the corrupt power of Mides was reduced to cinders behind her. There was no hesitation in her steps, no lingering regret, and no fear of being caught. Her face remained set in that same eerily serene, unreadable expression—a person simply taking back what was owed.
By the time she reached the lower estate gardens, the palace was in utter turmoil. Bells were tolling frantically from the watchtowers, and the smell of smoke hung thick in the air.
She approached the heavy iron gates leading out toward the royal capital. The guards stationed there were already panicked, shouting orders at one another as they tried to organize an emergency perimeter.
Aefia didn't bother hiding anymore. She walked straight into the afternoon light, resting Spectrum on her shoulder, her sage green vest slightly dusted with ash.
"Stop right there!" a guard screamed, drawing his sword with trembling hands. "Who goes there?!"
Aefia stopped a few paces away. She looked at the man, her garnet eyes gleaming with an unholy, terrifying clarity.
"I am going to make this very simple for you," she said, her voice carrying easily over the sound of distant crackling fires. "You are going to open these gates. And then, you are going to run straight to the council chambers, letting them know exactly everything that had happened."
"Why should we listen to someone like you?" He asked again.
Aefia folded her arms, tilting her head to the side and glaring directly at them with a polite smile. "It depends upon this that your King lives or dies. I am an Imperial Crown Princess. I have the right to claim the Mides territory overnight."
"How does that make any sense?" The second one asked. "In this situation, while the palace is burning up, you want to leave? You should at least face the consequences!"
She raised her fingers to tap her chin. "So you all do want that bastard Kazimir dead too."
Without any further a do, Aefia shoved right past them and swung open the iron gates for herself.
Stepping out of the palace threshold had never felt any more relieving.
"Tell the lords. Tell the graces. Tell every last minister who sat on their high chairs while their Crown Prince butchered people in the dark," Aefia warned over her shoulder. "Tell them the prisoner is gone. Tell them their darling King is bleeding out on his own dungeon floor. And tell them... I am coming for the rest of them next. Just remember these and I shall keep your names out of the list.
"Until then, don't start a reconstruction of try to put out the fire. I love my work left noticed. For now, that is all I have to say."
Before the guard could even process her words, she was long gone.
***
"Ugh... My joints. Have I aged three decades in two months or something?" Aefia rubbed her lower back, walking through the dense forest as the cool breeze whipped past her face. It did enough to lift the lingering tension off her shoulders.
"Hah! I feel so much more replenished now—"
"Who are you?" A voice called out from behind.
Aefia froze in place.
"Which idiot wanders around in the open so close to the burning palace? Do you have a death wish or something?" They sneered.