Chapter 14 – Going Back
’This... this is bad.’ Océane mused, looking at the three servants of shadows, who could no longer wait.
It had been more than an hour since her young master entered the Fractured Land. And he still wasn’t back.
At the start, the servants of shadows had been relatively tame, reluctantly giving Cassius the benefit of the doubt and waiting.
But now, as Océane looked at them, they were literally shaking with fear. Their faces, hidden behind swirling masses of shadow, were a mess of widening eyes and trembling lips.
The reason for such a drastic shift lay in the hand of the cohort’s leader.
Grasped tightly in his shaking right fist was a runic phone — used to communicate across any distance, provided one had the runic signal of the recipient.
Through it, the man had received not a call, but a message from his master.
Lady Morgan.
The content was simple. And horrifying.
<I miss Cass, and he isn’t answering my messages. His runic phone should be above Tier 6 to allow communication inside the Fractured Land. So why isn’t it working? Answer that question and show me a picture of him so I can see him.>
Then another one. Short. But enough to make the man ready to fight Océane on the spot.
<Now.>
"We won’t repeat ourselves, Maid of the Heir." He growled, the shadows around him moving, slithering out of the ground like black tentacles grasping at the air.
"Move aside or we will no longer concern ourselves with the consequences of touching you."
"But I—!"
"Lady Morgan wants to see the Youngest Heir!" He shouted, afraid and angry in equal measure. "She wants it now! Do I need to remind you what happens when you disobey the Lady? Even you will be punished."
"That’s false." Océane retorted, stretching her right hand to the side.
The earth below shook, rippled like unstable water, before jutting upward as if pulled by an invisible hand. A massive hammer of condensed earth formed from it, settling into Océane’s small hands.
Strangely, it fit perfectly.
"Heiress Morgan and any other Heir have no right over my fate." She hissed, slashing the air in front of her with the hammer before hoisting it onto her shoulder with a loud boom. "Only my Young Master decides my life and death."
All three of them snickered.
"A bloody fool." The man spat. "If our Lady wishes you harm, not even the blessing of every god will keep you breathing. And that is exactly what will happen if the Young Heir is wounded or worse!"
He had learned his lesson this time and chose not to speak of Cassius’s death directly.
"You all know how they dote on him." Another servant of shadows spoke, a voice girlish yet guttural, slow and menacing. "They cannot bear to see him hurt. Did you forget what happened two years ago? The massacre of more than half a Tier Three Family, all because one of them accidentally hurt him?"
Her voice trembled at the mere recollection. It was harrowing. Worthy of years of nightmares. The whole city had been swallowed by devouring shadows and blood rain that reduced everything it touched to ruin.
That day, the Matriarch herself had acted. It was the first time in an age anyone had seen Sefira Desdemona — The Blood Demoness — fight, let alone drown in wrath.
No one had ever forgotten it. Not even the Royal Family.
It was the day when Cassius’s station was firmly established in the eyes of the entire Kingdom.
Not in a good way.
Remembering that day, Océane’s resolve wavered. She still had hope, the Fractured Land showed 1/5 in the Slot, meaning her young master was still alive.
’But what if he is hurt? Unable to move? Stuck in a dreadful situation, waiting for help that won’t come?’
Then why hadn’t he called with his runic phone?
’Maybe he can’t. Maybe he lost it. Maybe...’
Océane’s head ached as the thoughts flooded her. She was torn between respecting his order and worrying about his safety.
She had no time to resolve it. The servants of shadows finally ran out of patience entirely.
"You asked for it!" They bellowed, lunging toward her, shadows spilling and spreading across the ground like ink.
Océane bit her lip. Her green eyes hardened like stone as she took her stance. Her right hand twisted backward, muscles bulging, veins rising along her skin as she—!
"What in the hell is going on here?"
The tension shattered like smoke caught in a howling wind. Every head snapped toward the voice.
Their hearts dropped.
Cassius stood there, his face was covered in handprints. His previously spotless white suit was shredded across the chest, dirtied alongside his white hair.
In that state, he was barely distinguishable from a beggar pulled from a dark alley.
And yet...
’What... what am I feeling? What is happening?’ Océane whispered inwardly, shocked to her core.
She didn’t know what had changed. But she felt a presence emanating from her young master that was unlike anything before.
Something plain on the surface, yet encased in layers of threads so thick and deep that nothing of its true nature could be guessed.
’And his eyes... Vorn’s breath, were they always like this?’
They looked like twin balls of crimson flame, burning with swirling blood. She trembled unconsciously when his gaze settled on her — and when she caught a flash of impatience at her prolonged silence, she almost knelt.
In the end, she did.
Thud.
Her hammer splintered into rocks and fell.
"I beg your forgiveness, Young Master!" Océane yelled, bowing until her forehead touched the hard stone floor. Behind her, the three servants of shadows followed without being able to stop themselves.
Cassius tilted his head at the scene, finding it rather exaggerated. He waved his hand lazily and walked toward them without hurrying.
"Why so serious?" He drawled. "But were you really about to fight each other?"
He walked past them.
Océane rose and fell into step closely behind, taking it upon herself to recount everything that had happened.
"Oh..." Cassius said when she finished, then laughed. "Oh, I see. Truly, why make such a fuss over something like this? Everyone needs to calm down. If I die, it’s fine. You’ll just die shortly after. Probably after some unpleasant torture, but nothing to worry about. Right?"
Océane and the three servants of shadows all twitched at his casual delivery.
"But Young Master," Océane said, her voice low, "it was genuinely dangerous to go in alone and unprepared. Please, forgive me if I overstep, but don’t do it again. I beg you. You need to take care of yourself."
"For my sake?" Cassius turned his head, looking at her over his shoulder. "Or for yours?"
She froze, bowing instinctively under the weight of his gaze. Still, she parted her lips and answered honestly.
"Both, Young Master." She swallowed. "Both."
Behind her, the three servants of shadows shivered at her answer. They had expected her to lie.
But Océane knew her lord well. He despised lies and manipulation directed at himself...he would torture and kill over it if he ever found out. Even though he himself was the finest liar and blackmailer she had ever witnessed.
With the sole exception of Matriarch Sefira Desdemona, of course.
And she was right.
Cassius burst out laughing, his eyes returning to the black carriage stationed ahead among the thick boulders.
"We shall see." He said at last.
Océane and the three hooded men exhaled in relief, glad he hadn’t taken offence. And that relief seemed to grant Océane a surge of confidence, because she dared to ask...
"What happened to your face, Young Master?"
Cassius was already at the carriage door, answering without looking back.
"Ah, my face?" He chuckled, touching it lightly. "Let’s just say a strange woman got jealous of how handsome I am."
"Huh?" Océane blinked, confused.
"Am I not right?" He added.
Océane grew more confused.
But...
[Lady Ananke does not deem you worthy of an answer.]
Cassius cackled. "How rude."
He stepped into the carriage.
"Ah well, sweetheart. Let’s go home, shall we?"
—End of Chapter 14—