The room erupted the moment the words left Lucavion’s mouth.
“Witch Hunt?” Valeria’s voice was sharp, her tone tinged with incredulity and a touch of alarm.
Beside her, Nadoka’s usually composed demeanor shattered as her voice joined in. “Witch Hunt?” The words echoed in the space, her sharp gaze fixed on Lucavion like a blade poised to strike.
The ominous phrase hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. But what drew even more attention, what seemed to suck the very warmth from the room, was the smile curling on Lucavion’s lips. It wasn’t a casual smirk or a grin of mischief—it was something darker, something that chilled the blood. The curve of his lips and the glint in his eyes radiated unspoken menace, as if he had conjured the devil itself into the dining hall.
The Marquis, for all his composure, sat motionless, his fingers steepled under his chin. His lips parted, and his voice emerged low and measured, but the weight of his words sent a ripple through the tension-laden air.
“Witch Hunt…”
He repeated the phrase as if tasting its implications, letting the weight settle before continuing. “You dare to suggest such a course of action? Do you have any idea the chaos, the destruction, such a word invites?”
Lucavion’s smile deepened, and he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. “Oh, I know,” he replied, his voice soft yet brimming with dangerous confidence. “And that’s precisely the point. The Cloud Heavens Sect has operated unchecked for too long, their crimes hidden beneath layers of deceit and influence. If we’re to root them out, the response must be swift, decisive, and absolute. A Witch Hunt ensures there’s no room for escape.”
Valeria’s fists clenched, her jaw tightening as she fought to steady her thoughts. The term carried an ominous weight—a history of relentless purges and unyielding judgment. The idea of associating her family, her name, with such a thing… it was unthinkable.
“This isn’t justice,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her tone. “This is vengeance. A crusade fueled by chaos and destruction. You talk about the people rallying behind such a cause, but have you considered what happens afterward? How do you control the fire once it spreads?”
Valeria’s voice cut through the heavy silence, her tone sharp with reason and barely concealed frustration. “Even if it’s true,” she began, her gaze fixed on Lucavion with piercing intensity, “that there are members of the Cloud Heavens Sect exploiting children, does that mean every one of them is guilty? What about those who aren’t involved? Wouldn’t this Witch Hunt of yours throw the baby out with the bathwater?”
Lucavion’s devilish smile widened, and he raised a finger, wagging it back and forth. “Tut, tut, tut…” he murmured, his tone almost playful, yet laced with a chilling undertone. He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a sharp, unrelenting resolve. “Valeria, there is no fire precise enough to control. When a blaze is set to purge the rot, it doesn’t discriminate. It consumes all in its path.”
He straightened slightly, spreading his hands in a mock gesture of helplessness. “Hard cases make bad laws,” he said, his tone dropping into something quieter, yet weightier. “The moment you start picking and choosing, drawing lines about what’s acceptable and what isn’t, you leave cracks for the corruption to seep back in. If you want to root out evil, you must do so completely, without hesitation.”
The room stilled, the tension thick as smoke. Valeria’s lips parted slightly, as if to argue further, but the weight of his words pressed against her like a stormcloud, forcing her to pause. Her fists clenched tighter, and her knuckles turned white against the table’s polished surface.
The Marquis, who had been silent up to this point, turned his steely gaze toward Lucavion. His expression was unreadable, but the faint narrowing of his eyes betrayed the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.
This young man, he thought to himself, his gaze lingering on Lucavion’s calm and almost flippant demeanor. What exactly is he suggesting?
It was true that the Cloud Heavens Sect’s actions, if proven, were beyond cruel. But to suggest a Witch Hunt—a strategy steeped in chaos and irreversible destruction—was a line few would dare to cross. And yet, as dangerous as it was, the temptation loomed large.
The Marquis’s fingers tapped lightly against the table, his thoughts churning. A Witch Hunt, if framed correctly, could be an unparalleled weapon. It could ignite a wave of righteous fury among the people, rallying them to his cause and crippling one of the most influential sects in the Empire.
But the risks… oh, the risks. Once unleashed, the fire of a Witch Hunt wouldn’t stop at the Sect alone. It could spiral into something uncontrollable, burning through alliances and leaving only ashes in its wake.
“Lucavion,” the Marquis said finally, his voice low but steady, cutting through the weight of the moment. “Do you understand the gravity of what you’re proposing?”
Lucavion’s gaze shifted to the Marquis, his smirk softening into something more deliberate, more dangerous. “Of course,” he replied smoothly, his tone unwavering. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t.”
The Marquis leaned back slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. His eyes narrowed further as he studied the young man before him, calculating and weighing every word, every gesture.
“And yet,” the Marquis continued, his voice sharpening, “you speak of indiscriminate fire as though it is a virtue. You speak of hard cases and bad laws as though collateral damage is acceptable. Tell me, Lucavion, is it justice you seek—or merely destruction?”
Lucavion tilted his head, his smile returning faintly, though it carried an edge that was anything but innocent. “Justice,” he said softly, the word lingering in the air like smoke. “Justice isn’t clean, Marquis. It isn’t kind. True justice, the kind that reshapes empires and topples tyrants, is a fire that burns without mercy. It destroys so that something stronger, purer, can rise from the ashes.”
The Marquis fell silent, his sharp gaze boring into Lucavion’s unflinching eyes. Temptation warred with caution in his mind, the weight of the decision pressing heavily against him.
Valeria, meanwhile, stared at Lucavion, her expression a mixture of disbelief and simmering frustration. “You speak as if you’re playing a game,” she said, her voice low but taut with anger. “But these are lives you’re talking about—innocent people who could be caught in the crossfire. Is that what you want? To sacrifice them for the sake of some grand crusade?”
“THE CHILDREN WHO LOST THEIR FUTURE! ARE THEY NOT INNOCENT TOO!”
Lucavion’s voice cut through the tense air, sharp and unyielding.
The sudden intensity of his words reverberated through the dining hall, silencing even the faint clink of utensils against plates. Valeria flinched ever so slightly, her eyes widening in shock, while the Marquis straightened, his steepled fingers stilling as he studied the young man before him.
Lucavion paused, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. Slowly, he exhaled, his expression smoothing back into one of deliberate calm. The room seemed to shift with his composure, though the weight of his earlier outburst lingered.
“Regardless of whatever it is,” he said softly, his voice measured and steady, “I’ve made my proposal.”
He turned his gaze to Valeria, his sharp eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. “I told you before,” he began, his tone quieter but no less pointed, “your lines of justice… can you really uphold them all the time? Have you seen what happens when those lines blur?”
Valeria’s jaw tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line as her fists clenched against the table.
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Lucavion leaned back slightly, a faint, almost weary smile playing on his lips. “The lives of common people, Valeria… they’re far more fragile than you might think. A farmer who loses a season’s crop, a child taken from their parents, a family that’s one illness away from ruin—they don’t have the luxury of noble ideals or unyielding codes. They live on the edge of survival, and when they’re preyed upon, who do you think stands up for them?”
His words hung in the air like a blade, sharp and undeniable.
And then, as if the moment had passed, Lucavion picked up his knife and fork and continued with his meal, his movements calm and unhurried, as though nothing had happened.
Valeria sat stiffly, her mind racing with his words. She wanted to refute him, to argue that justice wasn’t about pragmatism or collateral damage, but the raw truth of his statement made her hesitate. The people she had sworn to protect were fragile, vulnerable in ways her life as a noble and a knight hadn’t fully prepared her to see.
The Marquis, still silent, regarded Lucavion with an unreadable expression. Behind his calculating gaze, the seeds of temptation grew. This young man’s audacity was as infuriating as it was compelling. For all his recklessness, Lucavion’s point was clear: sometimes, action—no matter how imperfect—was better than inaction.
The tension in the room softened only slightly as the Marquis leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. Nadoka remained poised, her piercing gaze flitting between Valeria and Lucavion as though waiting for one of them to break the silence.
For now, however, the only sound in the room was the quiet scrape of Lucavion’s knife against his plate.fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓