Chapter 304: The knight’s disobedience



"Arghh!!!"

A piercing scream shattered the silence, drawing the knights' attention. The mist had now cleared up and now when they looked at the source of the scream, Damien materialized behind Gunther, an ice sword protruding from his gut.

Reggie's eyes blazed with fury, while Randal clenched his fists in frustration. Damien raised a hand, halting their advance.

"I aimed for the gut intentionally," Damien sneered, his voice dripping with malice. He yanked Gunther back, his arm coiling around Gunther's neck.

"Feeling great, Gunther?" Damien taunted, relishing in Gunther's agony.

Gritting his teeth, Gunther glared at Damien with searing hate, unable to comprehend how Damien had pierced his shadow form.

The other knights stood frozen, torn between the desire to retaliate and the need to protect their comrade. Their bodies tensed, but they dared not make a move, knowing any action could jeopardize Gunther's life.

Damien's twisted grin widened as he surveyed the scene before him, relishing in the chaos he had wrought. "Hmm, decisions, decisions," he mused aloud, his voice dripping with malice. "What to do with you now, dear Gunther, and your brothers?"

He paced back and forth with his eyes which was gleaming with malevolent delight as he contemplated the myriad ways he could extinguish their lives.

"Should I end you swiftly, with a swift stroke of my icy blade?" he pondered aloud, the suggestion hanging in the frigid air like a promise of impending doom. "Or perhaps I'll prolong your suffering, drawing it out until your screams echo through the halls of eternity," he suggested with a sadistic chuckle.

Licking his lips in anticipation, Damien continued to toy with the idea of their demise, his mind spinning with a kaleidoscope of grisly scenarios. "I could unleash a torrent of ice upon you, freezing you in place until your very souls are encased in eternal frost," he mused, his voice tinged with wicked glee.

"Or perhaps I'll let you live, allowing you to wallow in the agony of defeat as you watch your precious world crumble around you," he taunted, relishing in the thought of their despair.

"Don't you dare lay another hand on Gunther," he growled, his eyes blazing with defiance.

For a moment, Damien froze, his expression unreadable as he processed Reggie's demand. Then, with a sinister smirk, he responded, "Okay."

With calculated nonchalance, Damien released his grip on the blade embedded in Gunther's gut, the sound of dripping blood punctuating the eerie silence. In one fluid motion, he slithered behind Rose, his movements fluid and predatory.

Leaning in close, Damien's breath ghosted over Rose's skin as he cupped her face in his icy grip, his touch both tender and menacing. "Wake up, my dear," he murmured, his voice honeyed with false concern.

Drawing back slightly, Damien locked eyes with Rose, his gaze piercing and intense. "There's been a change of plans," he explained, his tone chillingly casual. "The knights have requested that I refrain from touching them." A cruel smile danced across his lips. "But nobody said anything about them not hurting themselves," he chuckled darkly, the sound reverberating through the frigid air.

Abruptly, his laughter ceased, replaced by a deadly seriousness as he forced Rose to meet his gaze. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice a cold whisper. And as Rose met his gaze, she could see the depths of his madness lurking within his eyes.

Randal's voice joined the conversation, his tone somber yet resolute. "She used the lord's last order on us already," he added, his words echoing with finality.

Shock washed over Damien as he realized the implications of their words. The lord's last order was one of two things that could free a knight from their lord. The other thing was death. So putting all he had heard together, the knights were no longer bound to Rose's will. But if that was true, why had they come to face him in battle if not for their allegiance to their lord?

Turning to Rose, Damien demanded an answer. "What was your last request of your knights?" he pressed, his voice tinged with urgency.

Rose's response was barely a whisper, her strength failing her as she uttered a single word. "Blake," she murmured, her voice barely audible above the din of the battlefield.

Damien's composure shattered like fragile ice as Rose's feeble utterance reached his ears. The mere mention of Blake's name ignited a blaze of fury within him, consuming rational thought in its wake.

"All I have done..." Damien seethed, his voice a venomous hiss, "...yet he's still all you could think about?!" His words dripped with contempt, laced with the bitter realization that despite his efforts, Blake still held sway over Rose's thoughts.

With a visceral anger clawing at his insides, Damien stepped closer to Rose, his gaze ablaze with fury. "Blake is dead," he spat, each word laden with malice. "Dead!" he repeated, his voice rising with each syllable, as if the sheer force of his declaration could drive the truth into Rose's consciousness.

He shook her head vigorously, the motion slow and deliberate, as if to imprint the finality of Blake's demise upon her mind.

As Damien's fury reached its crescendo, a voice sliced through the cold air like a dagger, cutting through his madness with chilling precision.

"Careful now, that's the mother of my child you're handling that way," the voice admonished, its tone sharp and commanding.

In an instant, the room seemed to hold its breath as all eyes turned towards the figure who had just entered. There, standing in the doorway, was Blake, his presence commanding attention as he held a child cradled in his arms.

The knights' gaze shifted from Damien to Blake, their expressions a mixture of surprise and curiosity. What was Blake doing here? They all thought.

Blake's eyes blazed with an intensity that matched Damien's own, but there was a depth of determination in his gaze that spoke volumes.

With measured steps, Blake crossed the threshold into the room, his movements purposeful as he held the child protectively against his chest. Every muscle in his body seemed coiled with restrained energy, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

***Author's note****

Show me some love, please?

Gifts, golden tickets would go a long way to motivate me.

That aside....

Let's go!!!!!