Dawn had just broken, casting a thin, greyish light through the narrow ventilation slits of Vayne Castle.
Yet, the light was powerless to dispel the darkness settling on the stairs leading to the dungeon.
The metallic stench of blood from Azura’s gown mingled with the damp aroma of earth and rotting oak.
Each strike of Azura’s high heels against the stone floor created a rhythmic cadence of death that echoed to the very end of the corridor.
Behind her, Caspian walked with steps that were still slightly unsteady.
The effects of the Nightshade poison had been partially neutralized by an emergency antidote from Arthur’s medical team, but the youth’s face remained as pale as marble.
He stared at Azura’s back with an unreadable expression—there was fear, but also a burgeoning sense of attachment he couldn’t quite explain.
In front of a thick teak door, Azura stopped.
She did not knock.
[System: Target Locked.
Leopold is directly behind the door, Boss.
Heart rate: 140 bpm.
He is terrified to death, but he has a small dagger hidden up his sleeve.
Shall I paralyze his motor nervous system now?]
”Not yet, System.
Let him feel a flicker of false hope before I crush him,” Azura thought.
Azura kicked the door open.
Inside the dim wine cellar, Leopold—the head butler once known for his perfectionism and loyalty—stood in the corner.
His usually flawless attire was now rumpled.
Upon seeing Azura, he tried to don a mask of composure.
”Your Grace…
thank heavens you are safe,” Leopold’s voice trembled, despite his efforts to steady it.
“The intruders…
they were horrific.
I was just about to seek help—”
Thud!
Azura threw the limp, broken body of Vane of the Pale Hand into the center of the room.
Vane let out a low groan, his face shattered and his hands twisted at unnatural angles.
”Stop the theatrics, Leopold,” Azura’s voice was clear and sharp as a scalpel.
“A rat doesn’t need help when it was the one who opened the hole for the cat to enter.”
Leopold fell silent.
His mask of composure shattered instantly.
He turned toward Caspian, searching for a final loophole.
“Young Master Caspian!
You must believe me!
I have cared for you since you were a child!
This woman…
she is using black magic to manipulate you!
She is the true killer!”
Caspian clenched his fists, his eyes fixed on Leopold, brimming with hurt.
“You…
you gave them the gate codes, Leopold.
You let them in to kill me and my siblings.”
”I did it for the good of Vayne!” Leopold suddenly shouted, his voice cracking into hysteria.
“The Marquis is dead!
This territory needs a strong leader, not a widow from a lowly family or a child still nursing on his father’s honor!
Lord Bastian promised stability!”
Azura stepped forward, closing the distance.
“Stability?
Or gold from the Central Church?” This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
[System: Activating Mode: Nerve Stimulation.
Connecting frequency to the target’s nervous system.
Boss, please enjoy the show.]
Azura didn’t touch Leopold.
She simply stared into the old man’s eyes.
Instantly, Leopold collapsed to his knees.
His eyes bulged wide, the veins in his neck strained, and his mouth hung open, yet no sound came out.
His body shook violently as if thousands of volts of electricity were surging beneath his skin.
It was torture without physical injury—nerve stimulation that forced the brain to receive maximum pain signals.
Caspian took a step back, horrified by the sight of Leopold agonizing without anyone touching him.
”Tell me,” Azura whispered, leaning over the writhing Leopold.
“Who is the Church spy communicating with you?
And what did Bastian promise you besides the Marquis’s seat?”
”Aa-aaakh…” Leopold managed a raspy sound between the grinding of his teeth.
“The message…
the message was sent…
by pigeon…
this dawn.
The Church…
they know about the ‘Gate’…
Bastian is just…
just a tool…”
Having gathered enough information, Azura commanded the System to cease the stimulation.
Leopold slumped to the floor, panting heavily, cold sweat drenching his entire body.
Azura then turned toward Caspian.
She drew a silver dagger from her waist—the same one she had used to finish off the assassins—and offered it to Caspian, handle-first.
”Now, Caspian,” Azura said coldly.
“Choose.”
Caspian stared at the dagger, then at Leopold, the man who used to carry him when he was a child.
“What…?”
”The world of knights you pride yourself on is full of fairytales about forgiveness.
But to me, betrayal has only one currency for payment,” Azura stepped behind Caspian, her cold hand resting on the boy’s shoulder.
“If you let him live, he will eventually find a way to poison your siblings’ food.
If you kill him now, you lose your childhood, but you save your family’s future.”
”Young Master…
please…” Leopold crawled, trying to reach for Caspian’s feet.
“Remember…
remember when I taught you to ride…”
”He is using your memories as a weapon, Caspian,” Azura whispered directly into his ear.
“Don’t be weak.
Press that pity beneath your feet.
Become a ruler, or become a corpse.”
Caspian’s hand shook violently as he took the dagger.
His eyes welled with tears, but a fire of rage began to burn away his sorrow.
He remembered how Lia had cried in terror last night.
He remembered how Vane’s blade had nearly pierced his heart because of this man’s betrayal.
”I’m sorry, Leopold,” Caspian’s voice was hoarse.
“But my father never raised a coward.”
With a heart-wrenching cry, Caspian plunged the dagger straight into Leopold’s heart.
The old man jerked, his eyes staring at Caspian for one last moment before the light in them faded forever.
The youth slumped to the floor, the dagger slipping from his trembling hands.
He began to gasp, nausea churning in his stomach.
He had just killed the man he once considered family.
Azura did not embrace him.
She offered no sweet words of comfort.
Instead, she stood tall before Caspian, looking down at him with cold respect.
”Vomit if you must, Caspian,” Azura said.
“But after that, clean your face.
A ruler must never let his enemies see the traces of his weakness.”
Minutes passed in a heavy, stifling silence.
Caspian slowly stood up.
He wiped the blood from his cheek with his soiled sleeve.
The look in his eyes changed—the doubt that was once there had vanished, replaced by a maturity forced upon him by circumstance.
Caspian stepped forward, then suddenly dropped to one knee before Azura.
He unsheathed his longsword and drove it into the stone floor—the most sacred knight’s oath in the Northern Continent.
”I, Caspian Vayne, eldest son of the late Marquis Vayne…” the youth’s voice was now deep and stable.
“Over the blood of a traitor and under the witness of this dawn, I swear my fealty to you, Marchioness Azura Vayne.
As long as my heart beats, my sword is your sword.
Your enemies are my enemies.
And I acknowledge you as the absolute authority of this territory.”
Azura gazed at Caspian for a moment.
She knew this was no longer about a stepmother and her son.
This was a blood alliance.
[System: Mission Accomplished: The Lion’s Loyalty.
Synchronization with the territory increased.
Reward: Memory Fragment of the Late Marquis (Part 1) downloading…
Displaying visual memory in 3…
2…
1…]
Instantly, Azura’s vision blurred.
She saw a flash of the original Marquis’s memory—a secret conversation in his study about a key hidden beneath the altar of the Central Church.
”Rise, Caspian,” Azura extended her hand, helping him up.
“Your oath is accepted.
Now, we have a new problem.”
Arthur rushed into the cellar, his face etched with anxiety.
“Your Grace!
A church pigeon was caught at the watchtower, but another managed to escape.
And I’ve just received reports from our intelligence in the city…
news of a ‘Massacre at Vayne Castle’ is already spreading.
They are accusing you of slaughtering loyal staff to seize the full inheritance.”
Azura let out a thin smile, one that made Arthur shiver.
“They move faster than I expected.
The Church wants to play dirty with narratives?”
Azura turned toward the window, where the sun had now fully risen, illuminating a Vayne Castle that was now ‘clean’ from within, yet besieged by a storm from without.
”Let them talk, Arthur.
Let them call me the ‘Bloody Empress.’ Because soon, they will realize that a lion does not concern itself with the opinions of sheep.”
Caspian stood beside Azura, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.
Tonight’s lesson was over, and now, the true war against the Church had just begun.