CHAPTER 283: CHAPTER 282 - “...LIKE A BABY CARROT...”

Back in the King’s chamber.

Lorian’s purple flames flared in an instant, swelling like a living storm.

The heat distorted the air, swallowing the golden glow of the chamber’s lanterns until the room seemed to breathe malice.

The time seemed to have slowed down as the flames flared, and so did the king’s eyes.

Siris’s fingers twitched toward her daggers, her senses on alert.

She wasn’t supposed to interfere, but she would if things looked good.

But as she saw Selena, standing calmly, her shadow trembling, she knew that her help wasn’t needed.

The moment Lorian’s flames surged outward, the floor beneath Selena’s feet began to ripple like black water.

Her shadow writhed and swelled, swallowing the light. From it, shapes emerged—massive wolves of pure darkness, eyes glowing white, their forms bristling with a hunger that wasn’t entirely animal.

They struck before Lorian could finish drawing breath.

CRASH.

The king slammed to the marble floor, his crown clattering away, his limbs pinned in the jaws of those shadow beasts.

Each fang was like an obsidian spear, their grip unyielding as they pressed him down.

Purple fire, however, still swirled around his hands.

He hadn’t even realized that he was down, as it had all happened too quickly.

Seeing him struggling, unable to register the pain of his limbs being punctured, Selena’s eyes narrowed.

The marble beneath Lorian shuddered—then erupted.

Jagged bones, long as swords, thrust upward in a perfect cage around his vitals. The nearest hovered just a hair’s breadth from his heart, trembling as if eager to pierce.

"If you move so much as an inch," Selena’s voice rang out, cold as the crypt, "you’ll die before you can even scream."

Lorian froze as he realized what had happened.

The wolves’ jaws tightened.

It was then that the pain came.

"ARGHHHHH!!!!!!!!"

The chamber seemed to shiver, as if feeling his pain.

Lorian writhed under the wolves, but the more he moved, the more the canine teeth of the spectral wolves pierced into his muscles, touching his bones.

The pain was so intense that he almost blacked out for a second.

The man, standing some distance away, however, didn’t move. He wasn’t ordered to move, so he didn’t.

No matter how much the king screamed or flinched, he merely stood next to Siris, ready to act if she moved.

After a while, Lorian calmed down, just lying there, chest heaving.

He had experienced so much pain for the first time. Now, although still in pain, he was calmer.

His mind—once burning with rage—now churned with disbelief. How? How had it gone wrong so fast?

He couldn’t understand it.

Lorian was now an eight-circle mage, and he could rival magic tower masters in power, but he still lost in less than a second.

He couldn’t believe it.

How? Why? And when?

All kinds of questions appeared.

Yes, he was shocked upon discovering her power was now raised to the eighth circle, but the one question he wanted an answer to the most was why the difference between his power and Selena’s was so much, even though she was an eighth-circle mage like him.

Selena stepped closer, her boots whispering over the floor.

"You want to know the difference between us?" She asked, tilting her head as if reading his mind. "Unlike you, I didn’t beg for power. I built it. I studied every corner of my abilities until they bent to my will. I learned to wield them in ways that didn’t just scorch the room."

She crouched slightly, eyes like shards of winter glass. "And you? You bartered your soul to a demon that’s too cowardly to show its face. You simply have a stronger fire. Nothing else. All you know is how to throw it around like a child with a torch."

Her words hit harder than any blade.

Lorian said nothing. His gaze locked with hers, something flickering behind his eyes—calculation, not fear.

Then... his expression softened.

"Selena..." His voice trembled, his eyes wet with false warmth. "My daughter... my princess... You must understand, I—I was under its control all this time. The demon—yes, it had me. Every cruel word, every... mistake... it was never truly me."

Siris’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing because she knew Selena wasn’t stupid enough to believe in those words.

"It’s gone now," Lorian pressed, the desperation in his tone carefully measured. "It ran when you attacked. I... I’m myself again. Give me a chance. Let me explain. Let me change."

Selena stared. Her face betrayed nothing.

For a while, she said nothing.

Then, she finally sighed. "...Send him away first."

She glanced at the man in black who stood silent beside Siris, his presence a shadow within shadows. "If you’re telling the truth, I’ll listen. If not... well, you know."

Lorian didn’t even hesitate as he turned to the man. "Leave us."

The man obeyed instantly, his movements stiff and mechanical, disappearing through the door like a puppet without strings.

When the chamber was silent again, Lorian turned his eyes back to her. "There. Now... will you let me speak? Will you let me at least sit—"

CRACK.

The sound was sharp and sickening.

Lorian’s jaw snapped sideways under a single, brutal punch from Siris. Bone splintered, teeth scattering across the marble in a fine spray of blood.

His attempt to gasp turned into a muffled, garbled sound.

Siris stood over him, knuckles still curled, frost forming in the cracks of the marble beneath her boots.

"There, it’s better now," she said flatly. "You won’t be able to use that annoying mouth of yours now."

Lorian was stunned again.

For a while, he merely stared at his teeth and blood lying on the ground beside him.

Then, the pain finally hit him. His eyes went wide—mostly from pain, but also from the realization.

The act wasn’t working.

He had misjudged them.

They weren’t someone he could fool.

Selena looked down at him, her shadow wolves still pressing his limbs into the floor, the bone spears still trembling at his heart.

"You had your chance," she said softly. "But you wasted it pretending."

Lorian’s muffled protests echoed as that was all he could do.

Worse yet, he couldn’t even call the man back, as he couldn’t speak anymore.

It seemed like this was Selena’s plan from the start.

She wanted there to be no way for him to have a comeback.

................

The echo of a scream rolled down the marble corridors like a ghost with somewhere urgent to be.

It was the king’s voice.

Raven tilted his head slightly, listening as the sound carried.

Even through the muffling distance, he could hear the pain in it.

He couldn’t tell what was happening, so he adjusted the limp weight of Velric on his shoulder, the prince’s hair still sticking up from where Raven had hoisted him mid-nightmare.

Clara’s eyes flicked toward the sound, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Tch. Sounds like fun in there. And we’re missing it."

She clicked her tongue in exaggerated disappointment before sidling closer, looping her arm through Raven’s, and leaning against him as they walked. "Still, this isn’t bad."

Raven gave her a look. "You’re leaning on me while I’m carrying dead weight."

"Mm," she hummed, not moving an inch. "You’re warm."

Velric snored softly into Raven’s back.

Every time they turned a corner, a patrolling servant or guard would have just enough time to widen their eyes before Clara’s fingers twitched.

A sharp, inaudible ripple of magic slid through the air like a needle through silk, and the unfortunate soul would drop instantly, their consciousness snuffed out like a candle.

That one snap would cause everyone in the hallway to slump to the floor, unconscious, before they could even realize who Raven and Clara were.

Every hallway they crossed became a growing trail of slumped bodies.

Raven didn’t bother commenting until his gaze caught something unusual.

"...Is that the queen?"

Sure enough, there—half-collapsed against the wall amid the pile—was a woman in a sweeping silk nightgown, her hair still perfectly pinned, her golden crown tipped askew on her head.

Her breath was slow and even, which meant she was definitely out cold.

Clara tilted her head. "Should we carry her too?"

Raven shifted Velric on his shoulder, weighing the idea.

He stared at her for three full seconds, wondering if she could be of any use, but he couldn’t find any.

So—

"...Meh. She’s useless."

As they passed, the queen murmured in her sleep.

"Lorian... it’s so tiny... so tiny... like a baby carrot..."

Raven didn’t even slow down, but Clara had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter, as she felt like the queen was talking about something the king wouldn’t want going out of the bedroom.

The screams in the distance rose for a moment, then died down to muffled groans.

"Whatever’s going on in there," Clara said, a playful gleam in her eyes, "I hope they save a piece for me."

They turned the final corner leading toward the king’s chamber—only to find the wooden double doors blocked.

A man in black stood there. Not slouching, not breathing heavily—just standing.

His entire presence was... still. The kind of stillness that wasn’t natural.

He lifted his head as Raven and Clara approached, his gaze locking onto them.

The air between them felt like it had cooled several degrees.

Raven raised a brow.

"Well," he muttered under his breath, shifting Velric’s weight again, "this should be interesting."

Raven, like Selena and Siris, had met him before.

But unlike them, he knew who this guy was.

He knew more about him than anyone else except two people—Argon and Lorian.