CHAPTER 431: A MONSTER.

All the knights wanted to unsheathe their swords when they saw Rasmus walk into the castle, but their brains prevented them from doing so. Their bodies couldn’t move out of fear, and when Rasmus glanced at them, their bodies ran cold as if their souls were trying to leave their bodies. Some tried to fight their fear, their eyes filled with tears, and yet when they saw Rullein and her glowing dark orange draconic eyes, they saw nothing but a primal fear, the fear of death.

Rullein spread her arms as the dark smoke filled the castle and forced everyone to breathe it in. Screams of fear filled the castle and she fed on that emotion, laughing in excitement as she devoured them mentally. Arandil and all the disciples could only watch the soldiers crawling and curling in fear. They were furious, powerless, scared, confused, and desperate.

Rasmus walked the long hallway with the dark smoke following and spreading behind him. He didn’t care, he didn’t listen, and he didn’t pay any more attention to them and let Rullein do what she wanted to do. His gaze focused on the six figures ahead of him with their weapons ready in their hands, but there was no resolve in the way they held them, an act of desperation was the only thing he saw in their eyes.

When Rasmus stopped walking, the dark smoke stopped spreading but it muffled the screams in the background. Rullein stood behind him with her pale face and glowing orange draconic eyes that peeked from behind his ear, staring at Arandil and his disciples with a huge grin on her face.

"You really made a deal with them..." Arandil said, tightening his grip on the sword, but he was too weak from that blow earlier. He was bleeding internally, and if he didn’t get treated or rest, his condition would get worse.

"Of course I did. What makes you think I was lying?" Rasmus asked with a stoic expression. "But again, I’m here not for a mere pleasantry. I’m here to take what’s mine," he glanced down at Aristoria’s sword in Arandil’s weakened grip.

Arnold dropped his rapiers to the ground, and the clanking sound echoed throughout the castle hall. Arandil and the others turned to look at him with a confused and a shocked expression.

"Count Blackheart, allow me to speak," Arnold said as he walked forward and stood in front of Arandil, blocking him from seeing Rasmus.

Rasmus eyes never left Arandil until Arnold blocked his vision, and then his eyes moved to Arnold’s eyes.

"Why did you save us?" Arnold asked.

Arandil, Crestefan, Keith, and Mazur were confused by what Arnold meant when he said that Rasmus had saved them. There was no evidence that Rasmus was saving them, and the fact he burned and melted half of the soldiers, it wasn’t saving, it was a massacre. However, Reynard understood that question, and would ask the same question to Rasmus because he saw it as well.

"You could have killed us all, and yet you didn’t. You delayed that magic spell until you saw us enter the castle. You wanted us to live, why?" Arnold rephrased the question so the others would understand and wouldn’t get in the way so he could speak his mind to understand his opponent that stood in front of him.

"I’m not saving you out of mercy," Rasmus answered. "I let you all live because I’m not stupid enough to let all of you die now. You all serve a purpose, to save humankind. I let you live now so you can fight in the upcoming war, the real war against the demons," he explained.

"And yet you killed half of our force even though you knew that we were necessary?" Arnold furrowed his brows, still unable to understand Rasmus and what kind of a person he was.

"First, I don’t want to be seen by the demons that I’m showing my favor to humankind, because I don’t, and I don’t want to be questioned of the deal that I have made with them. Second, if I kept them alive, the demons would kill them, take them, and use them as their vessels. I killed them yes, but it was better than letting them become additions to the demon army. Lastly, it’s because they’re useless in the upcoming war, insignificant, an unnecessary burden and problem, Numbers mean nothing when it comes to fighting the demons," Rasmus answered with a calm expression.

At that moment Arnold could see the resemblance between his thinking and Rasmus’ way of thinking. They both saw everything as a variable to be kept or to get rid of depends on the context and the necessity.

"So in this context, you’re saying those fallen soldiers that you killed were pebbles on the side of the road, unnecessary for you because all you need is stronger rocks to build the fortress?" Arnold asked with his brows raised. "Because you believed if you used those pebbles in building the fortress, it would create imperfection, imbalance that one day in the future that imperfection and imbalance would be the reason why the fortress collapse?" He narrowed his eyes, staring into Rasmus’ eyes.

"Yes," Rasmus answered with a stoic and unreadable expression.

Arnold thought that Rasmus would appreciate his understanding and gained some recognition from Rasmus, however he got nothing, not even a reaction. He was used to understand others and knew how to rub someone’s ego the right way, and he always got what he wanted from it, but this one was different. He realized at that moment that Rasmus didn’t care about ego, didn’t care if someone understood him or not, a man who was unchained from anything.

"You admitted it yourself, then why do you want to take the sword away from Arandil? You said you don’t want imperfection and imbalance, but you should know that taking the sword would only bring imperfection and imbalance," Arnold asked, suddenly felt something was off about the opponent in front of him as if the more he looked at Rasmus, the less he saw a man but rather a void that would devour him completely.

"Because he doesn’t care, Arnold..." Reynard answered. "Have you forgotten what he said earlier? He didn’t favor humankind. He didn’t care if humankind won or lost the war. All he wants is a war between humans and demons, and he doesn’t care who wins because in the end, he doesn’t care," he explained, realizing what kind of a person Rasmus was. "He’s a monster, Arnold. The kind who would kill anything just because they’re in the way. Right now, you might be in the way," he glanced at Arnold.

At that moment, Arnold felt chills all over his body and gulped nervously. He realized that he was a bother because all Rasmus needed was the sword in Arandil’s hand, not to have a conversation. He slowly moved away and let Arandil handle this matter because he knew he was never needed in the first place.

Rasmus took a few steps forward, and at that moment all the disciples unconsciously took a step back, leaving Arandil in his vicinity. Once again, the two figures stood against each other, but this time Arandil was no longer equal, no longer capable of resisting.

"I don’t need a sword to win against you. I don’t need a sword to make others bend, you do. I don’t need a sword to win a battle, you do. I don’t need a sword to win a war, you do. I don’t need a sword to gain power, you do," Rasmus stared into Arandil’s eyes without blinking. "Now, do tell me. What’s the point of that sword in your hand if you can’t even do what I do? You said that the sword is the spoil of war, and here I am, to take that spoil of war from you," he said as he reached out his hand, waiting.

Arandil had seen countless walls and mountains of challenges that he had to surpass, to conquer, but this time, he didn’t see any of them in front of him. He realized there was something that he couldn’t surpass or conquer, a void. He realized that it was pointless to fight Rasmus not because he couldn’t, but rather because he shouldn’t, he could just look away and move around it.

Arandil loosened up his grip on the sword and slowly stabbed it to the ground. His gaze fixed on Rasmus before he took a step back. He didn’t say a word, there was nothing to be said, knowing that Rasmus wasn’t the type of person who cared so much about what others thought about him.

Rasmus stared at the sword for a moment before he wrapped his hand around the handle. Instantaneously he felt a surge of power run through his veins from his hand, like a gush of cold water that freshened his body. The energy from the sword resonated with him and slowly the sword glowed light blue, releasing a visible aura that moved around the blade like flowing water.

Arandil had never seen that before, not when he had held that sword for years of trying to master the sword. He realized that it never belonged to him no matter how hard he tried to master the sword. It was as Rasmus said, it wasn’t the sword that defined him, and he forgot that it was him that made him who he was.

"When reinforcement came, just tell them the truth. Either way, it won’t look good on you, to be defeated by a mere Count, a Blackheart," Rasmus said as he pulled the sword from the floor and stared at Arandil. "But remember, one day, I’ll take that head of yours. You can forget the past, but you can’t run from its consequences," he stored the sword in the spatial ring before he turned around and left.

Arandil stood there, still not a word coming from his mouth, watching as Rasmus left the castle along with that dark smoke that had caused primal fear of the people and the soldiers, making them suffer.