Chapter 41: Parisosa

"At least it won't be boring anymore," Cassian muttered to himself as he packed some clothes and a book, still thinking about Lady Katherine's casual demeanor after killing that man.

He wasn't upset with her for doing it—after all, he would've been the one to kill her if she hadn't—but what bothered him was how unaffected she seemed. Shouldn't there be some kind of remorse? "Right?" he asked himself quietly.

It wasn't her first time, that much was clear. Cassian, having narrowly escaped death before, knew he'd likely kill to survive if it came to that. But he wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle it as nonchalantly as she had.

One thing was certain, though: he would kill in the future. Whether it would be one person or many, he didn't know, but if he wanted to be strong, killing seemed inevitable.

Cassian walked down the dimly lit corridor, his mind still swirling with thoughts about Lady Katherine. His grip tightened on the handle of his bag as he approached her room. Just a few steps away, the sudden sound of cracking wood shattered the stillness of the night.

Before he could react, the door to Katherine's room exploded outward, sending wooden splinters flying in every direction. Cassian instinctively threw up his bag, using it as a shield against the sharp fragments that whizzed past him. His heart raced, eyes wide with shock as he lowered the bag slightly, trying to understand what had just happened.

To his disbelief, Tyron was sprawled across the floor, having been slammed into the door with such force that it shattered. His body had been thrown so hard that he crashed into the wall behind him, letting out a painful grunt as he slid to the ground.

"Tyron?" Cassian muttered, stunned.

Tyron groaned deeply, struggling to prop himself up. His face was a portrait of pain, every muscle contorted as he tried to catch his breath. He winced with every movement, his body clearly wracked by severe discomfort. Cassian moved forward quickly, but his attention was drawn to the door behind him.

The door was still hanging precariously on its frame, but it was blown open halfway, a jagged line where the force had ripped through. As Cassian watched in horror, the door was blasted apart entirely. What emerged was something beyond his ability to describe clearly. It was a deranged and bizarre sight.

The creature that emerged was a horrendous amalgamation of body parts and disfigurement. It was made up of four skeletal arms connected at a single point, with each hand clutching a long, menacing bone spike. The space where the arms converged had an eye—large, bulbous, and unsettlingly placed, glaring out with a demented, unblinking stare.

This eye was surrounded by a network of jagged bone, giving it a disturbing appearance.

The two hands that were planted firmly on the ground supported the weight of this horrific construct. The other two arms, armed with their bone spikes, had violently torn through the door. The force had not only destroyed the door but had also left deep, crumbling cracks in the walls surrounding the doorway. The destruction was extensive, a clear testament to the creature's power and ferocity.

As Tyron, still reeling from his injuries, tried to regain his composure, he cast a desperate look at Cassian. His voice, strained but urgent, cut through the chaos. "Run away…" he managed to croak, his voice barely audible over the sound of the creature's movements.

Tyron, despite his obvious pain, attempted to stand. His sword, glowing with an intense, fiery red flame, was raised high. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself to confront the nightmarish being. The sword's red flames flickered ominously, casting a haunting glow on Tyron's determined face.

Cassian, stunned by the horrific scene and Tyron's bravery, could only watch as Tyron charged at the creature with a mix of desperation and resolve.

Cassian followed Tyron's command and moved to a safe distance, positioning himself away from where the battle was about to unfold. He tried to steady his breathing, but the sounds of the conflict were hard to ignore. Then, a horrific groan echoed from behind him, and Cassian turned in shock to see Tyron being slammed into the walls with a violent impact.

The force of the blow left Tyron crumpled against the wall, his previous confidence now replaced by visible pain and defeat.

Cassian's expression was one of disbelief. He had thought Tyron, a captain in the Blood Fire Legion, would be a formidable opponent against any foe. Yet here he was, being thrown against the walls repeatedly by the monstrous creature. The sight was jarring; it seemed inconceivable that someone of Tyron's rank and skill could be so overwhelmed.

The creature's strength was beyond Cassian's comprehension. As he tried to grasp the full extent of the monster's power, he noticed its red eye fixed on him with a chilling, predatory focus. The creature's hands, which had previously been supporting its weight on the floor, began to shift and bend with unnatural flexibility.

Two of its arms were braced on the ground, bending unnaturally as it prepared to spring. The other two arms extended upward, grabbing onto the ceiling with a sickening crunch.

With a loud creak and a burst of dust and debris, the creature pushed off the ceiling and launched itself towards Cassian. Its bone spikes were extended menacingly, aimed directly at him. Cassian, heart pounding, raised his wooden sword in a desperate defense. The sword, however, was ill-equipped for the monstrous assault.

As the creature's bony spikes descended, Cassian swung his sword with all his might. He aimed to block the spikes, but the force of the attack was overwhelming. The sword struck the sides of the spikes rather than the points, redirecting them slightly but failing to stop them. The wooden blade splintered under the tremendous pressure, and the force of the blow sent Cassian flying backward.

He collided with the ground; the impact throwing him against the far wall with a bone-jarring thud. The distance he was thrown was staggering—at least ten meters from where he had been standing. It became painfully clear why Tyron had appeared so weak and battered; the sheer power of the creature's attacks was beyond anything Cassian had imagined.

He lay there, dazed and in agony, understanding now that this wasn't a fight he could imagine winning and that he had to find a way to survive against such overwhelming odds.

The spikes of the creature's attack had missed him, but the force of the blow had still caused some serious damage—Cassian felt several bones cracking painfully. He glanced up at the creature, now using its bony arms as makeshift legs to scuttle along the walls like a spider. Its relentless advance toward him was swift.

Cassian's wooden sword, shattered from its previous clash, was useless, and his bag with any other potential defenses was out of reach. With no other options, he braced himself to dodge the oncoming attack. The creature leapt from the wall with horrifying speed, its bone spikes poised to impale him.

Cassian tried to move, but his limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. His strength was sapped, leaving him struggling to evade the attack. The spikes were just inches from his face, and he could see the bony hands gripping them, ready to deliver a fatal blow.

Just as the spikes were about to strike, Cassian heard a sudden, unfamiliar voice shout, "Parisosa!" The word meant nothing to him, but as he braced for impact, the spikes disintegrated into dust before reaching him, the particles spraying across his face.

The transformation was rapid and total—the creature itself crumbled into fine dust, which then showered over Cassian. The fine particles coated his face and eyes, obscuring his vision and making it difficult for him to see what was happening.

He heard hurried footsteps approaching and felt a hand grasp his arm. The person who had saved him was now kneeling beside him, but the dust cloud made it hard to make out their features. Still, the voice was unmistakably familiar.

"Are you alright?" the voice asked urgently.

Cassian blinked rapidly, trying to clear his eyes of the lingering dust. The outline of the figure slowly became clearer as the haze began to settle. It was Lady Katherine, her face a mask of concern.

"Yes, I'm fine," Cassian managed to say, though his voice was still shaky. "Lady Katherine, is the creature dead?"

Lady Katherine's eyes, filled with relief, met his. "Yes, it's gone. I've dealt with it." Her expression was a mix of relief and weariness, a stark contrast to the calm demeanor she had shown earlier.

Cassian took a moment to steady himself, glancing at the area around him he found it covered in dust. The once fearsome beast had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of ashen remains. S~eaʀᴄh the nôvel_Fire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Now that you're alright, get up," Lady Katherine said, offering him a hand. Cassian rose with a grunt, wincing as he felt the pain from his few broken bones. Katherine's concern was evident as she helped him steady himself, but seeing that he could walk, she turned to Lucy, who was standing nearby with a worried expression.

"Lucy, handle the cleanup here and explain everything to my mother. Let her know where I'm headed. I'll be leaving for Magisteria, and you can follow me there in about a week, once the uproar from this incident dies down. Cassian will be coming with me," Lady Katherine instructed firmly. Her tone was calm, though there was an urgency underlying her words.

She then turned toward Cassian. "Now, let's get out of here before anyone comes running, hearing all this commotion."

Without waiting for a response, she reached for Cassian's shoulder. He winced in pain at the pressure, his injuries still fresh from the earlier impact. Katherine either didn't notice or didn't care, her focus solely on getting them away from the scene.

"Close your eyes. I'm going to teleport us," she commanded.

Cassian quickly shut his eyes, not wanting to risk disobeying. As soon as they were closed, he heard Katherine's voice again, speaking the teleportation spell, "Antarnuae."

For a fleeting second, Cassian felt a sensation of weightlessness, as if his body was floating in the air, bit hot air. Then, just as suddenly, he was back on solid ground, the weight of his body settling on his feet. He blinked, trying to regain his bearings, the disorienting sensation fading as the teleportation spell completed.