Outside the Valerius Mansion, the air was thick with the scent of melting snow and burnt flesh. Inquisitor Malphas remained static, a statue of ivory and iron under the light of the flames. Beside him, Vargas controlled his restless horse, his eyes fixed on the east wing of the mansion, where Julian's room glowed in embers.
— Your men are efficient, Inquisitor
— Vargas commented, his voice heavy with poorly disguised greed.
— But do not forget our pact. The blood of the Valerius and that servant is yours, but the boy... Julian is my merchandise. He is worth a fortune alive in the arenas of Jasper.
Malphas turned his face slowly. Beneath the hood of his white cloak, his eyes were two abysses of fanaticism.
— The Order does not feed on gold, mercenary
— Malphas hissed.
— The boy is merely a detail. My mission ends when the Harlequir bloodline is reduced to purifying ashes. But know this: if your "investment" offers resistance to the fire of faith, he will burn with the rest of the house.
Vargas tightened the reins, feeling the weight of that threat, but he only smiled. He knew that, inside, the trap had already closed.
The Flight and the Siege
Inside the mansion, the heat made the air heavy and difficult to breathe. Sálvia did not wait. She grabbed Julian by the arm, dragging him through a side corridor that reeked of smoke. The boy was in shock; the screams of Lilian and Ana still echoed in the hallways like ghosts.
— Sálvia... the girls... they didn't come back...
— he stammered, tripping over debris.
— Do not look back, Julian
— her voice was icy, devoid of any hesitation.
— If you want to live to avenge them, you must keep running.
They descended the service staircase toward the wine cellar, seeking the hidden exit. However, as they opened the oak door, hope died. The corridor was blocked. Five Purifiers, their black armor covered in soot, were already waiting for them in a phalanx formation. Their spears formed a barrier of steel, and their white cloaks, now stained with blood, shone macabrely in the gloom.
Sálvia stopped abruptly, pushing Julian behind a pillar. She drew her short blades, her hands steady. Time began to slow down in her mind; she was surrounded, with a child to protect, in an environment with no room to maneuver.
The sound of Vane's flail against the marble was like the hammering of an executioner on a scaffold. Kyo felt the impact of every blow resonate in his bones, even when he managed to dodge. The agility that used to be his greatest weapon seemed insufficient against the brute force and the oppressive aura emanating from the giant.
Kyo retreated, panting, with a cut bleeding on his temple. He looked at Count Axel and Countess Elara, who remained standing in the center of the hall like marble statues amidst the fire.
— Count! Get the Countess out of here now!
— Kyo shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke.
— The east corridor is still clear! Fly!
Axel tried to speak, but his lips barely moved. His eyes overflowed with a paralyzing terror.
— Kyo... I... I can't feel my legs
— the Count murmured.
— It's as if the ground is pulling me into the abyss.
Vane let out a guttural laugh, a dry sound that made the torch flames flicker. He spun the flail slowly, making the chains clink in a funereal tone.
— It's useless, Master of Arms
— Vane hissed, flashing his ruined teeth in a sadistic smile.
— Before you even unsheathed that toy of yours, I cast the Inertia Seal upon them. For the next five minutes, they are nothing more than spectators in the front row of your funeral.
Kyo's eyes widened, feeling the weight of that revelation. Five minutes. It was the time needed for the Order's reinforcements to finish surrounding the mansion.
— Five minutes is a long time, don't you think?
— Vane continued, advancing with heavy steps that made the marble crack.
— For me, it's enough to break every one of your ribs, one by one, while they watch without even being able to close their eyes.
Vane attacked with renewed fury. The flail came down like a meteor. Kyo tried to use the Flow of Water to redirect the force, but Vane's weapon was too heavy; the impact threw Kyo against a massive dining table, which split in half as if it were made of twigs.
Kyo coughed up blood, feeling the metallic taste flood his mouth. He tried to get up, but Vane was already upon him. The giant grabbed Kyo by the neck with an immense hand and lifted him off the ground, pinning him against a column.
— Where is your water now, little fish?
— Vane squeezed Kyo's throat, watching the Master of Arms' face turn purple.
— The ocean doesn't seem so deep when you're drowning in your own blood, does it?
Kyo kicked the chest of Vane's armor, but it was like striking an iron wall. He glanced at his patrons. Axel and Elara were weeping in silence, trapped by the seal's magic, forced to witness the man who swore to protect them being crushed.
As Kyo's consciousness began to waver, he heard the sound of clashing metal from the floor above. Sálvia. Julian. The image of the boy being taken as a slave by Vargas gave Kyo a final breath of will.
— The time...
— Kyo whispered, his voice choked
— ...is not over yet.
With a desperate movement, he drew a short dagger from his boot and plunged it into Vane's exposed forearm. The giant roared in pain and released Kyo, who fell to his knees, desperately gasping for oxygen while the invisible timer of the seal continued to tick, second by second, toward disaster.
The hall of the Valerius Mansion was shrouded in a mist of ash and embers. Time seemed to crawl for the Count and Countess, paralyzed by the Inertia Seal, as they watched Kyo's blood stain the marble.
Vane roared, the sound coming from his throat like the bellow of a wounded beast. He looked at his own forearm, where Kyo's dagger had left a shallow cut, and his sadistic expression transformed into an incandescent rage.
— You... a mere fencing instructor... dared to wound me?
— Vane wiped the blood and took it to his tongue, laughing maniacally.
— I will turn these last minutes of yours into a hell that not even death can erase!
Vane advanced with a speed his brute frame did not suggest. He spun the flail in a helical motion, creating a vacuum that pulled the surrounding flames. Kyo threw himself to the side, but the spiked sphere hit the floor with such force that marble shards flew like projectiles. One of the fragments cut Kyo's cheek, but he did not stop.
The Master of Arms tried to apply the "Rain Dance," a sequence of rapid thrusts intended to find the gaps in the leather armor. Kyo's steel clinked against Vane's metal in a frantic rhythm. Tin. Tin. Tin. Every strike was precise, but Vane simply accepted the minor cuts to deliver crushing blows with the iron handle of his weapon.
The fight became a symphony of destruction. Kyo glided through the debris, using the Flow of Water to transform Vane's strength into movement. He spun over a toppled table, delivering a circular cut that hit Vane's shoulder, but the giant didn't even blink. Instead, Vane released one hand from the flail and delivered a direct punch to Kyo's abdomen. The house protector flew backward, hitting the pillar where the Count was trapped.
— Kyo! Get out of there!
— Axel tried to scream, but only a muffled sound escaped his throat.
Kyo recovered in time to see the flail coming toward him horizontally. He raised his saber for an emergency block. The impact was so violent that the sound of the metal colliding seemed like thunder. Kyo felt his wrist crack, but he managed to deflect the weapon's trajectory. However, Vane was already expecting this. With a swift, dirty movement, he pulled a short, curved blade from his waist and slashed Kyo's forearm.
It wasn't a deep cut. It was just a scratch.
Kyo retreated, preparing for the next assault. He tried to raise his saber, but he felt something strange. His arm felt heavy. His eyelids began to flicker, and the "flow" he always felt—the connection with movement
—was becoming blurry. He tried an advance, but his legs failed for a millisecond, making his attack slow and predictable.
Vane stopped. He did not attack. He merely watched Kyo falter, with a sneer that went from ear to ear.
— You feel it, don't you?
— Vane swung the small blade, which glowed with a viscous, purplish substance under the firelight. — You noble-school fighters think combat is about honor and technique. You think my advantage is just size.
Kyo fell to one knee, using his saber as support. His heart beat irregularly.
— My technique is not strength, little fish... it's the Silent Slaughter
— Vane hissed, walking slowly toward the Master of Arms.
— The flail is just to break your guard. The true death is in the poison now running through your veins. It doesn't kill fast... it first takes your speed. Then, it takes your vision. And finally, it takes your ability to scream while I begin to dismember you in front of your masters.
The seal's time still marked two minutes. Kyo looked up, his vision starting to blur, seeing Vane's silhouette rise like a mountain of death over him.
The poison ran through Kyo's veins like molten metal, making every movement a struggle against his own paralysis. He tried to raise his saber, but his arm would not obey; the blade merely scraped the marble with a melancholy sound. On the other side, Count Axel and Countess Elara watched everything, their faces bathed in tears, their throats locked by the Inertia Seal that turned them into statues of flesh and bone.
Vane stopped a few steps from Kyo. He raised his flail, but instead of delivering the final blow, he let out a rasping laugh that echoed through the burning ceiling beams.
— Look at you...
— Vane scoffed, kicking Kyo's saber away.
— Killing you now would be too easy. It would be mercy. And I don't get Jasper coins to be merciful.
Vane sheathed the small poisoned blade and turned his back on Kyo, walking with heavy, deliberate steps toward the Valerius couple. The sound of leather boots crushing glass shards was the only sound competing with the crackling fire.
— No...
— Kyo tried to scream, but his voice came out as a whisper choked with blood.
— Vane... stop...
The executioner stopped before Count Axel. He reached out and, with cruel delicacy, touched the noble's face, who could not even look away.
— The contract says the bloodline must be extinguished
— Vane hissed.
— And I love the sound the silence makes after a title of nobility hits the floor.
Vane grabbed Countess Elara's neck with one hand. She tried to let out a sob, but the seal only allowed her eyes to widen in pure terror. With his other hand, Vane took the flail and, instead of spinning it, used the reinforced handle like a stake.
— Watch, Master of Arms! Watch what your "water" could not protect!
In a sudden and brutal movement, Vane delivered a horizontal strike with the spiked sphere directly against Count Axel's chest. The sound was muffled
—the cracking of ribs and the collapse of the sternum. The Count was thrown against the column, the impact breaking the seal only for his body to fall lifeless, a trail of blood decorating the white marble.
The Countess let out a muffled sound, a mute plea. Vane looked at her with a glint of pure sadism in his yellowish eyes.
— Don't cry, milady. You will join him.
Vane didn't use the flail this time. He drew the poisoned dagger and, with a slowness calculated so Kyo would see every millimeter of the movement, plunged the blade into Elara's heart. She shuddered, her eyes fixed on Kyo's for one last and eternal second, before the light in them went out. Vane released her, and the Countess's body slumped over her husband's, forming a pile of silk and blood under the orange light of the flames.
— Two and a half minutes
— Vane announced, wiping the dagger on the fallen tapestry.
— The seal hasn't expired yet, but their hope has.
Kyo felt the world collapse. The poison prevented him from screaming, but his soul roared in agony. He had failed. The house that had welcomed him, the man he respected, and the woman he protected were dead at his feet.
Vane turned to Kyo, his eyes shining with a sickly satisfaction.
— Now that you've lost everything you swore to defend... I think we can end your suffering. Or perhaps I should go up and find the boy?
The snap of the double oak doors, now partially charred, echoed through the hall like a coup de grâce. The cold night air invaded the room, fighting the suffocating heat of the flames already devouring the ceiling.
Through the entrance framed by destruction walked two figures who seemed like the herald and the beneficiary of the disaster. Inquisitor Malphas entered first, his steps slow and heavy over the glass shards, his immaculate white tunic contrasting with the trail of ash he left behind. Right behind him, Vargas walked with renewed arrogance, adjusting his leather collar, his eyes shining with the anticipation of one who came to collect the spoils.
They stopped in the center of the chaos, before the macabre picture Vane had painted.
On the floor, the bodies of Count Axel and Countess Elara lay in a final embrace of blood and silk, the nobility of the Valerius house reduced to a heap of lifeless flesh. Vane stood beside them, panting, wiping the blood from his hands with a satisfied smile.
And then, Vargas's eyes drifted to the corner.
There, fallen upon the marble, was Kyo. The Master of Arms was a shadow of the vibrant man Vargas had known. Vane's poison held him in a state of paralyzing agony; his limbs did not respond, his vision was blurred, but his consciousness remained cruelly intact.
Vargas walked over to Kyo and stood over him, looking down. The mercenary let out a low laugh, a mixture of contempt and triumph.
— Look at you, Kyo
— Vargas said, his voice laced with poisonous scorn.
— The great master of the Lazuli Nation, the unshakable guardian. Where is your honor now? Where is your "flow"? It seems the water dried up before it reached the sea.
Kyo could not speak. The poison locked his jaw, but he gathered what remained of his strength to slightly tilt his head. When his eyes met Vargas's, the mercenary felt an involuntary chill run down his spine.
It was not the look of a defeated man. It was a look of absolute hatred, pure and icy. In those pupils dilated by the poison, Vargas saw the promise of an agony worse than death. Kyo stared at him knowing that Vargas was the architect of that tragedy, the traitor who sold the hospitality and the lives of the family that had welcomed him. Kyo's hatred was so dense it seemed to fill the space between them, a silent accusation that no matter how much Vargas won today, he would never be safe as long as Kyo breathed.
Vargas tried to keep his smile, but he looked away, unsettled by the intensity of that fury.
— He is still alive, Inquisitor
— Vargas commented, trying to regain his composure as he turned to Malphas.
— But the house has fallen. Where is the other one? The servant?
Malphas did not respond immediately. He observed the nobles' bodies with divine indifference, then looked up toward the shadows of the upper balcony.
— Vane's poison takes the strength, but hatred... hatred is a seed difficult to kill
— Malphas murmured, his voice cold as northern ice.
— Where is the boy, Vargas? The purification will not be complete until the last blood of this line is spilled.
Kyo, on the floor, felt a single tear of blood run from his eye. He had failed Axel. He had failed Elara. But the mention of Julian made his heart beat one last time with the force of despair.