The moment that Thailon had pushed the door, the scene that greeted him made his blood run cold.
Blood was splattered across the walls, pooling on the polished marble floor. The room, once a symbol of Vaelric’s power and authority, was now a gruesome tableau of violence. In the center of the carnage lay a body—or rather, what was left of one. Only the lower half remained, the torso and head missing entirely. The dismembered remains were twisted and grotesque, as though they had been savaged by something monstrous.
Thalion’s eyes widened in horror as he recognized the tattered, blood-soaked robes on the lower half of the body.
“F-Father?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His legs felt weak, his chest tightening as the realization sank in. This mangled corpse… it belonged to Vaelric.
His mind raced, unable to reconcile the image before him. Vaelric, the most powerful man in the Crimson Serpent Sect, the peak 4-star Awakened on the verge of a breakthrough, was dead. Not just dead—obliterated.
“Father!” Thalion screamed, his voice breaking. He stumbled forward, his trembling hands reaching out toward the remains. But before he could take another step, a voice cut through the silence like a blade.
“Oh? You’re his son?”
Thalion froze. The voice was smooth, mocking, and carried an air of casual confidence. He turned sharply, his eyes darting to the source.
Thalion’s body snapped toward the voice, his head swiveling to the side where the sound had come from. His heart hammered in his chest, and his breath hitched as his gaze landed on a figure stepping from the shadows.
It was a young man, clad in dark clothing that seemed to meld with the dim light of the room. His movements were deliberate, almost leisurely, as though the chaos and carnage around him were of no consequence. But it wasn’t his attire or his calm demeanor that struck Thalion—it was his eyes.
The young man’s gaze bore into Thalion with a force that was almost physical, an intensity that twisted the air around him. His eyes gleamed with something indescribable, a cold, unyielding intent that sliced through Thalion’s fragile composure like a blade. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t hatred. It was something worse.
For a fleeting second, Thalion tried to meet the young man’s gaze, to anchor himself against the oppressive weight of his presence. But the effort was futile. The sheer intent in those eyes—the quiet, undeniable promise of destruction—forced him to avert his gaze. His head turned involuntarily, his body recoiling as though struck.
His breath quickened, his chest rising and falling erratically. A cold sweat broke out along his brow, his hands trembling as he gripped his blade tighter. He felt it then, crawling up his spine and clutching his throat like an icy hand.
“Fear…” he muttered under his breath, the word barely audible as it escaped his lips. His body felt heavy, weighed down by an invisible force that sapped the strength from his legs. He wanted to move, to act, to strike—but he couldn’t. The presence before him was suffocating, a void of power and malice that eclipsed everything else.
The young man smirked, a small, almost amused curve of his lips. He took another step forward, his movements as smooth as a predator stalking its prey.
“So,” the young man said, his voice calm but laced with a quiet menace. “This is the heir of the Crimson Serpent Sect. The son of Vaelric.” His gaze flicked briefly to the mangled remains on the floor, his smirk widening slightly. “Your father was quite disappointing. I expected more from the ‘strongest in the city.'”
Thalion’s fingers twitched, his instincts screaming at him to fight, to run, to do something. But the weight of the young man’s presence pinned him in place, rendering him unable to act.
“W-why…?” Thalion stammered, his voice shaking. “Why are you doing this? Who… who are you?”
The young man tilted his head slightly, his smirk never faltering. “Why?” he repeated, as though tasting the word. “Does it matter? Your father made his choices, and now he’s paid the price. And you…” His gaze darkened, the oppressive air growing heavier. “…you’ll pay yours.”
Thalion’s knees buckled slightly, his legs trembling beneath him. He tried to steel himself, to push past the fear clawing at his chest, but the young man’s presence was like a black hole, pulling him deeper into despair.
“No…” Thalion whispered, his voice barely audible. He tightened his grip on his blade, summoning every ounce of courage he could muster. “I won’t… I won’t let you…”
The young man’s smirk faded, his expression growing colder. “You won’t let me?” he repeated, his tone devoid of amusement. He raised his hand, his fingers flexing slightly as a faint glow of dark energy began to gather around him.
“Now that I think about it…..” The young man’s dark energy swirled around him, faint motes of starlight shimmering in the oppressive void. His expression remained cold and detached, but his next words cut through the suffocating air with a razor’s edge.
“There is a chance,” he said, his voice calm, almost contemplative. “A chance that you leave this place alive.”
Thalion’s heart skipped a beat, his trembling hands tightening around his blade. The weight of the young man’s presence didn’t diminish, but those words held a faint glimmer of hope—one he desperately wanted to believe in.
The young man tilted his head slightly, his cold gaze locking onto Thalion’s. “Though,” he continued, his tone taking on a mocking edge, “that chance only exists if you answer my question.”
Thalion swallowed hard, his throat dry as the air grew heavier around him. “W-what… what do you want to know?” he forced out, his voice barely above a whisper.
The young man stepped closer, each measured movement sending a jolt of dread through Thalion’s body. His black estoc lowered slightly, the swirling energy around it pulsing faintly as he leaned forward, his voice soft but laced with menace.
“Where,” he said, his words deliberate and precise, “is the girl named Ilyana?”
The name sent a cold shock through Thalion’s veins. His eyes widened, and his breath hitched as realization struck him like a thunderclap. This wasn’t just a random attack. This wasn’t about his father or the Crimson Serpent Sect’s power. This man had come here with a purpose, and that purpose was Ilyana.
He knew.
Thalion’s mind raced, his thoughts spinning in a desperate storm. That’s why he’s here. That’s why he killed Father. It’s all because of her.
His fingers tightened around his blade, his knuckles turning white. He knew what this meant. He wasn’t stupid. Even if he answered the question, even if he told this man exactly where Ilyana was, it wouldn’t matter. His father was dead. The sect was in ruins. And now, there was no reason for him to be spared.
Thalion’s breath hitched, and for a moment, silence hung heavy in the blood-soaked chamber. Then, suddenly, a sound broke the stillness.
“Heh…”
It started as a low, guttural chuckle, rising from his throat like a twisted melody. His shoulders trembled as the laugh grew louder, unrestrained, echoing through the chamber with a wild, almost maniacal edge. His blade dropped to the floor with a dull clang as he threw his head back, laughing uncontrollably.
“Ahaha! All of this…” he gasped between fits of laughter, his voice cracking under the weight of hysteria. “You… you came all this way. You killed my father. You destroyed everything… for her?” He doubled over, clutching his sides as his laughter turned darker, more venomous. “I don’t know whether to pity you or applaud your stupidity!”
The young man didn’t move, his calm expression unchanging as he watched Thalion with an almost clinical detachment. The oppressive energy around him seemed to tighten, but Thalion was too far gone to notice.
Finally, Thalion straightened, his lips curling into a sneer. His eyes, filled with madness and spite, locked onto the young man. “You think you’re so terrifying,” he spat, venom dripping from his words. “You think you can break me? Fuck you.”
With a sharp inhale, Thalion gathered the bile of his hatred and spat. The glob of saliva flew through the air, aiming for the young man’s face—but it never landed. The moment it reached within inches of him, the spit hit an invisible barrier, sliding harmlessly down to the floor with a faint hiss.
The young man’s gaze didn’t waver. If anything, the lack of reaction only made Thalion’s hatred burn brighter.
“That bitch,” Thalion snarled, his voice low and venomous. “I should’ve r*ped her when I had the chance. Maybe then she’d have been useful for something.” He grinned, his teeth bared like a cornered animal. “So go ahead. Kill me. You’ll never find her.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The faint flicker of starlight around the young man’s blade grew brighter, sharper, the oppressive weight of his presence
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The faint flicker of starlight around the young man’s blade grew brighter, sharper, the oppressive weight of his presence becoming suffocating. For the first time, Thalion’s grin faltered, his bravado cracking as the sheer force of the young man’s intent bore down on him.
The young man’s voice was cold, devoid of emotion, as he finally spoke. “I see,” he said simply, his tone calm but chilling. “Thank you for answering me.”
The young man’s piercing gaze didn’t falter as he took a step closer, his blade humming faintly with an unsettling energy. The oppressive aura in the room thickened, making it harder for Thalion to breathe. He sneered, refusing to let the fear clawing at him show, but the slight twitch in his eye betrayed him.
The young man tilted his head slightly, his voice calm but dripping with icy contempt. “This smell of yours… it’s faint, but unmistakable.” He leaned in slightly, his dark eyes locking onto Thalion’s with an intensity that made the air feel heavy. “You just came from her side, didn’t you?”
Thalion’s eyes widened imperceptibly, the twitch in his brow giving him away. His sneer faltered for a fraction of a second, replaced by a flash of alarm.
The young man’s lips curled into a smirk. “Ah, so it’s true. You’ve confirmed it for me.” He straightened, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “Well then, it appears you’ve served your purpose.”
He took another step closer, his presence suffocating as he loomed over Thalion. The flickering starlight around his blade flared briefly, illuminating the room in sharp, cold light.
“Though,” the young man said, his tone sharp with disdain, “talking about r*pe like that… It’s kind of shallow, don’t you think?”
Thalion opened his mouth to retort, but before he could form the words, the blade moved.
SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH!
The strikes were impossibly fast, so swift that Thalion didn’t even register the pain at first. The faint, metallic sound of steel slicing through flesh and bone echoed in the room, followed by the dull thuds of severed digits hitting the bloodied floor.
Thalion’s eyes darted downward in horror.
Six fingers—three from each hand—lay scattered on the ground, twitching grotesquely. His right leg had been severed cleanly just above the knee, blood pouring from the stump in sickening gushes. His mind struggled to process what had just happened, but then the pain hit him like a tidal wave.
“AAAAAH!” Thalion screamed, his voice raw and guttural as he collapsed to the floor, clutching the stumps of his mutilated hands. Blood seeped between his trembling fingers, staining the already crimson floor. His leg twitched uselessly, the agony radiating up his body with every heartbeat.
The young man stood over him, calm and unflinching. He tilted his head slightly, his expression devoid of pity. “Now,” he said, his voice eerily soft, “next time, be mindful of your words.”
GULP!
And he forcefully fed Thailon a small vial.
“Goodbye.”