The king was on the end of his wits. The pressure from the rulers of every country, the preparation to counter attack, and the things he did that clearly were out of bounds.
--
"I'm really sorry, Faustina."
"…about what?" Faustina probed.
"Huh?"
"What are you sorry for, Your Majesty?" Faustina asked. "Is it because I remember what you did?"
"No," the king denied. "It's…"
Silence.
"It's what?" Faustina challenged. "Are you really sorry?"
The king lifted his gaze now to say a word, but none came out of his mouth. She was looking at him with such hurt evident in her face.
"Why?" She murmured. "Why are you telling me you're sorry? What are you sorry about?"
There was no response. Faustina wanted to laugh.
And she was so ready to forgive him, too.
Faustina bowed at the king before taking her leave.
"Glory upon the Feuersturm Empire."
--
"…What seems to be the problem," Sheila softly said as she gently wrapped her arms around his back.
The man then embraced her tightly.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?"
Sheila's expression softened.
"Of course you may," she smiled. "My king."
**
That night, he talked to Sheila about his thoughts without sharing what happened. He said he felt apologetic—but he couldn't exactly tell what he was being sorry for.
"There are just so many things I've done that I can't just say them aloud." The king murmured. "She'll hate me. For sure."
They have done this before in their younger years—just lying beside each other in several nights of uncertainty. Before he met Faustina, the king already have been in Sheila's counsel. She was his healer and friend, and so he kept her close. Sheila didn't mind though, because the king was the king. Though there was no need to heal him now, he still sought Sheila's sisterly warmth. She was the closest to be called family, after all. Because growing up, Sheila had known him best.
"It's Faustina, huh." Sheila said.
She knew everything now—down from what her origins are to the fact that she was the daughter of the forsaken. At first, Sheila's reactions were severe to the point that the king had to put himself and Faustina to a separate castle just to get away from Sheila's rage. She, after all, couldn't accept that the girl with the king was with was someone who was the daughter of the person who brutally murdered his family.
"I don't understand." Sheila said. "I can't claim to understand you when I don't, your majesty."
"Just listening is enough." He said. "I just want to let it out. For a bit."
--
After that, he returned to the castle and into his study. But then, the next thing he knew—
Faustina was missing.
A maid then went to Faustina's room, as she was summoned by the king.
But then…
Even after searching every nook and every crook of the castle…
"She's… gone?" The king couldn't believe it.
"There is no trace of magic, nor there is any hint of her disappearing, Your Majesty."
The king then stood from his seat.
"Gather the troops." He said firmly. "Establish the search!"
Where could she have gone? She couldn't have gone anywhere else. He didn't detect any presence of magic of any kind. Warlock magic, too. Faustina, after all, didn't display any infernal characteristics—only her appearance have changed, but not her entire being. It seems there were still traces of concealing magic from Eulalia Fortunatorum and Jonathan Unsterblich in her.
"Find her." The king massaged his temples.
If only he didn't go to Sheila—if only he wasn't a coward and just faced everything head-on.
If only he didn't let his emotions take control of him, then he wouldn't, and Faustina wouldn't be in this situation.
"This is all my fault." The king exclaimed.
"Your majesty!" It was one of the high knights who have come. "One of thee spies reported that they have seen here enter what looks like a water portal."
Water portal! The king's eyes widened.
"Summon Lucas Feuerlon," he said. "Immediately!"
**
Wreaking havoc in the magic country was a woman sitting in a broom. Although her new vessel couldn't use magic, she was still, at her core, an infernal being. Just a trickle amount of a tincture's concentration in the vessel's blood, had birthed a new L.u.s.t.
Lilianne Disfiegro; L.u.s.t believed that that was the foolish girl's name. Someone who yearned to be loved—and L.u.s.t, who takes advantage of people who are at their weakest, using their emotion to use them, had found her so perfectly. And this girl had hated her 'little sister,' someone she ought to dispose of. If it isn't fate, then L.u.s.t doesn't know what it is.
Just a single flick of her long and sharp fingernails, the forest was set into a burning hellfire, which was purple and a hundred times hotter and much quicker to spread than normal fire. L.u.s.t licked her lips.
"Mmph!"
L.u.s.t then turned to the boy who was floating mid-air with her, who was now enclosed into a purple spherical cage made of her warlock magic. He was also kept silent by magic, and tied down. A kid who can use magic is already dangerous enough, especially when he's of the blood of an ancient shaman. It was a good thing that only the kid had found her, because if she was caught by the schoolmistress, or just by the foolish girl's amour, Ezekiel Unsterblich, then that could hinder her plans.
"Tone it down. I'm just waiting for a rat to come out," L.u.s.t said as she looked around. She then turned to the city. "Ah. Right. Of course, he wouldn't be at the academy."
L.u.s.t then flew to the city, and then as she arrived, she scanned the place. It was already set into chaos from her wreaking havoc to the academy.
"Anna Unsterblich's pretty slow in her responses," L.u.s.t exclaimed as she evoke hellfire in her fingertips.
"Now, where you are, my Albino servant?" L.u.s.t then fired consecutive blows to the city. "Still wanna play hide n' seek, huh!"
**
He was an information giver, but he was also a man.
When a pretty lady approached him with an appeal he couldn't ignore, he gave in to her intoxicating voice and foxy eyes. She had black, curly hair and red eyes. These features spoke of a Heilen, no—a warlock. But she might be the last of her kind.
And she had climbed him.
She sat into his lap and let him drink her blood. She m.o.a.ned, disheveled under him and let him take control. He felt ecstasy like never before. And soon he was drowning with it until he figured he was now a prisoner of someone dangerous than he could ever expected. When he released his seeds onto her, that bind him into a contract in servitude of her—and when he drank her blood, she made him be detected even at the ends of the planet.
He formed a pact without him knowing; and skillfully she deceived him.
So, when she died, he decided to live in the shadows once more. And when he finally decided to live, that's when everything began to fall apart. Now the first continent is being attacked, and Magierstadt is in a lockdown…
And then, if things hadn't taken the worse turn even further, the security system failed and he was caught in a hellfire in the city. He knew he wouldn't be safe into his den, as she can trap her right there…
The only thing he could do is to escape.
He was called Vampyr, or simply 'information teller,' 'albino vampire'… but when she finally became his owner…
She named him… "Caesar."
He slowly turned his gaze.
Floating mid-air, sitting against a broom with a child as her prisoner, was a girl with blond hair and wearing a long black dress. Even though her appearance changed, her air did not.
"L-l.u.s.t…" He uttered as she saw him.
L.u.s.t then lowered the broom until her black stilettos touched the ground. Everything around them were sent aflame, and nothing could escape L.u.s.t's eyes.
Her slender fingers then cupped his cheeks.
"Oh, Caesar," she said. "You know it's futile, don't you?"
Her long, sharp nails then traced his neck and dug through them. His light red eyes then darted to the child.
Of course… it's futile for him. Ever since he had helped her murder and kill people, it had been futile. Because now he could only live in the shadows forever, and always under her command. His freedom was gone, for he was reborn as her servant.
But…
He knows it isn't over for those around him. It might be over for him, but for others, there is still hope.
His red eyes glinted as he met amethyst ones. He lunged himself forward and bit L.u.s.t's neck roughly. He then propelled his staff forward to the barrier, and then as he tightened his grip, the snakes on his staff bit through the magic that bind the child.
L.u.s.t pushed him roughly, sending him to the ground, with L.u.s.t now on top of him fuming with rage, neck bleeding from his bite.
"GO!" He told the child. "NOW!!!"
"Cae…sar…!" L.u.s.t glowered down at him with nerves protruding on her neck.
That's right.
He closed his eyes as he welcomed the hellfire.
It was futile for him—but for them…
There's still hope.