In the middle of the garden, sitting at the table.
A thick, almost suffocating silence filled the space, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves swaying gently in the wind.
“What do you mean there is no one?” The Master’s voice was calm, yet laced with an unmistakable edge of menace, his expression deadpan as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
A lean hooded figure, Alaric, and a huge, bulky hooded figure, One, stood before him. The moment they felt the sharp spike of killing intent radiating from the Master, they flinched, their bodies tensing involuntarily as they instinctively took a step back.
Alaric gulped, his throat suddenly dry. “M-Master… I swear… I planned everything down to the last detail. There wasn’t a single flaw. Every one of my tribe members had evolved… I made sure of it. I positioned them exactly where they needed to be, under the sacred stone, ready to devour everything in their path. I—I don’t understand what went wrong…”
The Master tilted his head slightly, “If you planned everything so perfectly… then where are they?”
Alaric felt a chill run down his spine,
“I… I really don’t know… I re—”
Before he could finish his sentence, the Master abruptly stood up. His chair scraped against the stone floor, the sharp sound making both Alaric and One flinch.
“But I know,” the Master said, his voice dangerously soft.
“H-Huh? You know?” Alaric was taken aback, his confusion evident. If the Master already knew something, why hadn’t he told him? Why was he waiting until now?
The Master let out a slow, deliberate exhale, then suddenly turned his gaze back to Alaric.
“You must have saved them, didn’t you?”
Alaric’s heart nearly stopped, “M-Master? What are you saying?” His voice trembled.
“Hah..Hah..” The Master let out a low chuckle—soft, almost amused—but everyone present knew better. It wasn’t laughter born of joy. It was the kind that sent shivers down spines,
He took a slow, measured step forward, closing the distance between himself and Alaric. His sharp gaze flickered over him, studying his every movement, his every reaction, as though dissecting him down to his very soul.
“What am I saying?” The Master repeated, his voice laced with mockery. “I’m saying that I know exactly how you saved your tribe.”
He circled Alaric… Alaric stood frozen, his body stiff as if he had been caught in a hunter’s trap.
“I knew this, Alaric,” the Master continued, his tone almost conversational. “I knew from the beginning that you wouldn’t betray your tribe. That’s just who you are, isn’t it?”
Alaric’s breath hitched. “M-Master?” His eyes widened. His mind screamed at him, ‘H-He’s doubting my loyalty?’
“Come on now… no need to be so tense,” the Master murmured, his voice almost soothing, yet the underlying threat was unmistakable. “After all, they were your people, weren’t they? Your tribe. The ones who raised you, the ones who bled with you. Of course, you would choose them over us…” He paused, then placed a finger against his own chest. “Over me?”
Alaric felt the blood drain from his face. He shook his head frantically. “M-Master? H-How could you even say that? I—I would never—”
“Still…” The Master interrupted, his tone shifting slightly as if indulging in a moment of reflection. “I understand. Compassion is a dangerous thing. It makes men do foolish things, doesn’t it? I mean… it’s only natural. They were your kin, after all.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a whisper. “But here’s what I don’t understand, Alaric…”
His next words came slow, deliberate, “You are the one who told me, in your own words, that you didn’t mind sacrificing your tribe for the greater good. You even volunteered for it.”
He turned his gaze toward the two other hooded figures sitting at the table… They silently nodded their heads!
“See?” The Master’s lips curled slightly, though there was no warmth in his expression. “We didn’t choose anyone. You stepped forward on your own… and yet, here you are now, spewing some pathetic, fucked-up lie.”
Before Alaric could even process what was happening, a strong hand shot forward, gripping his throat. His feet left the ground as the Master effortlessly lifted him into the air, his fingers tightening like a noose around his windpipe.
“Arrh! M-Master… P-Please… I-I never betrayed you… I-I swear, I really don’t know who did this!” Alaric gasped, his hands clawing at the iron grip around his neck. His vision blurred slightly as panic set in.
The Master’s mind was already calculating. The conclusion was clear—Alaric was most likely the mole among them. It was an unfortunate irony. The Master had been the one who initially planned to use Alaric as a pawn to get close to Dora, but now, after this incident…
‘What if she used her charm to manipulate him?’ The thought struck him.
The possibility had always been there, but he had never given it serious consideration.
Why?
Because Dora had never needed to rely on such tactics before.
She had too much pride to resort to such things.
The Master had raised these chosen ones. He knew their strengths, their weaknesses. He knew their darkest secrets. And yet…
The situation was reaching a dangerous tipping point when—
“I-I saw… the Darkfang tribe…” Alaric suddenly blurted out, his voice raspy from the pressure on his throat.
The Master’s grip loosened just enough to let him drop to the ground.
Thud!
Alaric fell to his knees, coughing violently, struggling to catch his breath.
The Master’s gaze bore into him. “Darkfang?” His voice was sharp. “What do you mean?”
Alaric wiped his mouth, still panting. “I-I stationed my people just as planned… But instead… I found Darkfang guards in my village…”
The Master’s expression darkened. His fingers curled slightly at his side.
Darkfang…
Now, things were starting to make sense…
The Master raised an eyebrow, “So… the wolves sniffed out the truth or something?”
Alaric shook his head quickly, his face still pale, “I don’t know… I questioned them before killing them, but they had no idea why they were stationed there. The only thing they knew was that no one was allowed inside.”
The Master frowned at that, tapping his fingers against the table in thought, “Hmm… Maybe the blood stench gave it away? But I’m damn sure I told you not to massacre anything there. So there shouldn’t have been any blood for them to smell… Hmm…” His voice trailed off as he thought deeper.
He knew just how sharp a wolf’s nose was—especially that woman.
Liora.
The King of her tribe.
That woman could pick up a scent from miles away. She was ridiculously good at tracking, almost unnatural in her abilities.
Alaric swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. The colour had drained from his face. Seeing that, the Master’s expression darkened, his voice turning deadly serious.
“What did you do?”
Alaric’s lips parted, but no words came out.
“…..”
The Master’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“What did you do?!” His voice thundered.
“I… I…” Alaric stammered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “I killed… ‘F-Few’ people who escaped—”
Crack
“ARRGHHH!!”
Before he could even finish, the Master’s foot came down hard on his leg.
“‘Few’?” the Master spat, his voice laced with mockery as Alaric writhed in pain. “Tell me, Alaric. What exactly does ‘few’ mean to you?”
Alaric groaned, his hands clutching at his injured leg. “Arrhhh… I… aarr… I…”
The Master’s foot hovered just above him, waiting. “Come on, Alaric. Don’t make me wait.”
“I—I killed almost fifty people who tried to run away…” Alaric finally forced out, his voice weak. “Arrhh… that was enough to stain the big tent… arrrh!”
The words made the Master’s expression shift into something unreadable. Alaric wasn’t just talking about a few stray bodies. He was referring to the blood that had seeped into the ground inside the tent—the tent where the old man, the King of their tribe, had been hiding.
The entire ground had been tainted!
The Master’s face turned completely indifferent. Then—
Crack!
“ARRRRHHH!!”
Alaric’s agonized scream tore through the air as the Master snapped his foot without a second thought. The sound of bones shattering sent a wave of unease through the onlookers, but no one dared to speak.
“I cannot believe you keep fucking up my plans!” the Master growled, his tone ice-cold.
“Arrh… M-Master… Please… forgive me…” Alaric gasped, his voice trembling as pain coursed through his body. “I didn’t mean to do that… I thought it would be easier to finish them off rather than taking them to the ground… I—I thought—ARRHHH!!”
His screams grew louder as the Master pressed his foot down on the broken limb, grinding it against the ground mercilessly.
No one moved.
No one dared to intervene.
No one even flinched.
They all simply watched as Alaric writhed in agony, knowing full well that this was what happened to those who made mistakes.
Then, suddenly—
A small hooded figure stepped forward, hastily pulling out a small slate. Their voice came out hurried, almost panicked.
“M-Master… It’s Victor! H-He’s finally coming!”
The Master, who had been seething with annoyance and tension just moments ago, suddenly stopped. His lips curled into a slow, dangerous smirk, a glint of excitement flickering in his eyes.
“Finally…” he murmured, his voice dripping with anticipation. His foot lifted from Alaric’s crushed leg as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for something grand.
“It’s time.”
______
[Author’s Note: I know I dragged this… so please forgive me for that. 😞💔 Sigh… I’m truly, truly sorry, guys. I kind of got caught up in a situation, and things didn’t go as planned, so I couldn’t update on time. 😔 Please forgive me once again. I also feel really bad that I couldn’t post the two extra chapters today as I had promised. 😭
As I mentioned earlier, I was stuck in a really tight spot, and no matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t make it happen. 😩💢 But don’t worry!
✨ Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you. You’ll get everything on time, plus the next two chapters as well! 🎉📖🔥 I promise I won’t let you down again. 🤞💖 Thank you for your patience and understanding, guys.
I never meant to keep you all waiting or drag… Hope you can forgive me! 🙏💗💗]