Chapter 585: Revenge Complete
(An unknown holding cell, The Twelfth Elder’s POV)
The Twelfth Elder trembled at the sight of Leo walking towards him with a dagger in hand, as he had not expected this outcome.
"Skyshard... Skyshard, what are you doing? You said you wouldn’t hit me if I confessed! Skyshard... SKYSHARD!"
*SHHK*
Despite the Twelfth Elder’s panicked screams, Leo did not stop.
Having already made up his mind to punish the elder, Leo began deliberately stabbing the man’s body, each thrust measured and precise, as he struck along the same places where Luke was hit.
*SHHK*
*SHHK*
.
.
.
*SHHK*
Every cut was a mirror, every pierce a grim echo of what his brother had endured, until the old man’s cries filled the chamber like a chorus of guilt made flesh.
"B-but you said... you said you wouldn’t hurt me if I came clean!" the Elder sobbed, his voice trembling between agony and disbelief, as if clinging to the hollow promise that had never been more than a deceitful lie.
"I said I would think about it," Leo replied, twisting the dagger free before driving it into the next mark, "and I did think about it... and I concluded that you deserve it."
*SHHK*
The Elder screamed again, thrashing uselessly against the restraints as his body convulsed, his cries echoing down the stone walls.
Mu Fan and Su Pei turned away, unable to witness such grim violence, while even Dupravel averted his gaze, as he wasn’t the sadistic type that gained pleasure from watching another man be tortured.
However, no matter how much blood splattered, or how loud the Twelfth Elder screamed, Leo did not stop with his punishment.
He did not gloat, nor did he revel in his cruelty, as he simply carried out his movements with no hesitation, knowing full well that he was serving justice without malice or bias.
*Thrust*
*Sputter*
Every strike he made was not simply pain, but judgment.
A reminder. A ledger. One wound for every sin committed, one scar for every single one that his brother received.
For forty-five minutes the chamber echoed with nothing but the Elder’s hoarse screams and it wasn’t until the Twelfth Elder’s body finally sagged against the restraints, his head lolling unconscious, that Leo finally stopped, his blade dripping with the residue of vengeance.
"Gimli," Leo called evenly.
The door creaked open almost immediately, and Gimli entered with hurried steps, her face pale at the grotesque sight before her, yet her hands steady as she obeyed without question.
She pressed the wound-closing ointment along the Elder’s ravaged body and attached a saline drip to his arm, just like she had been trained to do for the last two weeks, however, seeing her stitch the Twelfth Elder back up, Leo felt like something was amiss in his gut.
"Stop–" he said, commanding Gimli to pause the treatment, as he pulled her hand away from the elder’s body.
"I had initially planned to drag this out.....
To come back every few days to break him again and again, but I see now he isn’t worth the effort. His screams don’t satisfy me, they only waste my time."
He paused, tilting his head ever so slightly as his gaze lingered on the Elder’s unconscious form.
"On one hand, I want to kill him. On the other hand, his claim that Soron might sense his death lingers in the back of my mind."
The silence stretched before he gave a quiet, almost dismissive scoff.
"No... I don’t think Soron particularly cares. If he did, the Council wouldn’t be filled with such scum in the first place."
With that, his decision crystallized and without any further hesitation, he raised his dagger, and in a single fluid motion severed the Elder’s head from his body.
*Splat*
*Thud*
Blood sprayed briefly before falling still, the silence that followed heavy and absolute.
"Well guess what Gimli, you won’t have to stay watch here afterall. Just clean this mess up and we’ll be on our way home," Leo said coldly, as he stepped out of the room with his revenge complete.
—----------------
(Meanwhile Soron)
Soron did sense the Twelfth Elder’s death, and for a moment cast an angry glance towards Planet Vorthas to see what was going on, only to be shocked when he saw Leo, Dupravel and Su Pei present at the site of the murder, with a dripping dagger in Leo’s hand.
For a few moments Soron simply stared, his ancient eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as he tried to piece together the reasoning behind Leo’s actions.
Had the boy acted out of blind rage?
Was it vengeance for some personal slight?
Was it tactical to achieve some hidden ambition?
Or was this the first sign that Leo was beginning to harbor dangerous intentions against the Cult?
The questions lingered, pressing against his mind with a weight that might have troubled him centuries ago, but now only stirred a dull ache of fatigue.
He thought of the countless generations of Elders who had come and gone, each believing themselves indispensable, yet in the end, each proving just as flawed and corrupt as the one who came before.
The Twelfth Elder’s death, whether justified or not, hardly mattered in that grander cycle and hence he did not care enough for it.
Perhaps Leo had acted rashly, perhaps not, but in either case Soron found himself unwilling to probe further.
"I hope it’s for the best," Soron muttered softly, leaning back in his seat as his gaze drifted from Vorthas and returned to the present.
"If he chose to kill, then he must live with what that choice brings. It is not my concern to coddle him, nor to avenge the weak."
He exhaled, closing his eyes as the faint ripple of the Elder’s life-force faded completely, swallowed by silence.
And so Soron let the matter rest, not because he did not sense the weight behind it, but because he no longer cared enough to interfere, deciding in that moment that perhaps it was for the best.