"And they say I am evil," Razeal muttered coldly, his voice cutting through the howling wind as the last of the flying snowflakes settled from his landing. His dark black eyes, glowing faintly under the dim light of the frozen forest, looking silently toward the two figures standing ahead.
Ranguardâs face twisted with anger. His killing intent spilled out like a suffocating fog, making even the snow in the air feel heavy. "Who are you to interrupt? How dare you... No. Wait." His eyes narrowed, recognition dawning. "Youâre that Virelan boy, arenât you?" His voice pausing.
But Razeal didnât even glance at him. The recognition, the frustration and threat.. it was all irrelevant. As if Ranguard didnât even exist, Razealâs gaze turned away, his boots crunching against the snow as he walked toward the collapsed figure lying paralyzed on the ground.
Nancy.
Her heart, already broken by despair, fluttered with a desperate spark of hope when the explosion of snow and the shadowed figure appeared. For one second, she thought.. maybe someone had come to save her. Maybe she wouldnât have to endure the fate looming over her like a nightmare.
But then she heard Ranguardâs voice calling out: "Virelan boy." And just like that, the fragile spark inside her died.
The one who had been punished for trying to violate someone... would come here to save her? No.. her situation had only gotten worse.
Her eyes burned with the sting of tears. She wanted to scream, to crawl away, to vanish. But her body betrayed her. Completely paralyzed, she could only lie there, snow soaking into her hair and armor, tears slipping helplessly from the corners of her eyes.
The girl born into warmth, into privilege, into adoration as the cherished jewel of her house now reduced to nothing but a broken sparrow in the snow. Nancy had never cried in her life. Not once. But today, for the first time, she cried. And it was the cruelest kind of tears born not from sadness only a women can feel..The cruelest and saddest from complete and utter powerlessness.
She couldnât move, but she could hear footsteps drawing closer.
Her chest tightened, her breaths came in shallow gasps. Please... no more. Not again.
And then, suddenly, a shadow fell over her face. Strong fingers slipped beneath the collar of her armor and yanked her upward with strong and rpugh way. Her body, stiff and unresponsive, dangled helplessly.
Still, Nancy forced her eyes open wider. And she saw him.
Razeal. His face was inches from hers. His grip was rough, unyielding, but his eyes ..his eyes werenât what she had expected. They werenât hungry, lustful or even mocking she had imagined.
They were cold. Purely cold. And terrifyingly calm. As though she wasnât even a woman in his eyes.. just another piece of a larger plan.
Nancy froze. She braced herself for cruelty, for some vile declaration. But instead, Razealâs voice came, even and steady, cutting right into her soul.
"Iâll apologize," he said flatly, "because Iâm going to take advantage of your condition. But donât mistake me.. this wonât be a loss for you. Iâll save you, even as I use you. That way, both of us gain. No debts left between us."
His words were blunt, stripped of comfort. No warmth. No softness. Just straight rude words.
Nancy blinked, tears spilling freely now. What is he saying? And why is he being so rough with me? And Those eyes of his... She looked into them dark, black, and endless. They reflected her face so vividly it was as if he was holding her inside them. His gaze was clean, almost pure, yet strict. And beneath that sharpness... was he apologizing? For what?
Also what does he mean, profit for both sides? Why does he look at me like that... so strict and cold?"
Nancy thought as caught in his hold, drawn so close their breaths mingled, his face only inches from hers. She heard his words, but they barely registered. All she could feel was the weight of his seriousness, the way his eyes searched hers like they wanted to tell her something unspoken.
Razealâs grip tightened slightly as he pulled her closer, his voice lowering, his words heavier.
"And yes, I knew this was going to happen to you," he admitted without hesitation. "Could I have stopped it before it reached you? Yes. I could have. So did i chose to let this happen to you? Yes i did."
Nancyâs pupils trembled, her entire being shuddering at his ruthless honesty.
"Will I profit from this? Yes. Absolutely. Thatâs the only reason I let it happen. So, if you want to hate me, then hate me. If you want to hold a grudge, hold it. Thatâs your right."
His face drew closer, his dark eyes boring into hers with unflinching intensity. Their breaths mingled in the cold air, the heat of his words burning against her skin.
"But know this" Razealâs tone sharpened, each syllable cutting like a blade, "I donât spare my enemies. If you choose to stand against me, then be prepared. Because when the time comes, I wonât hesitate."
He let this happen to me knowingly?
Nancyâs mind reeled as she stared into his eyes. That piercing black gaze.. so steady, so unflinching was telling her the truth without hesitation. Every word from his lips had been direct, merciless, and stripped of comfort. He had admitted it plainly: he had known what would happen, and he had allowed it.
Her heart should have filled with hatred. Why would anyone do this?..She never did wrong to anyone.. should have cursed him, spat at him, sworn vengeance even if she had to crawl to it. Yet something about the way he spoke unsettled her even more than the terror she had just faced.
And why? Why is he telling me this? What is his goal?
She couldnât understand.
Nancy had no choice but to listen. Her body was paralyzed, her strength stolen, her voice trapped in her throat. All she could do was lock her trembling gaze onto his face and absorb his words.
"And let me remind you of one thing," Razeal said, his voice as sharp and calm as the winter air biting around them. "Four years. Four years is all you have before you die. Your fate was set to turn today, completely, leading you to what they call your duty... or what I call the end."
"So Iâll say it straight: this world will not be kind to you anymore. The sweetness is gone.. no strawberries, no butterflies, no soft illusions. From this moment on, none of that is for you now. Your world, your life, they are about to flip upside down. So prepare yourself."
His tone carried no warmth, no comfort. It was a blade, cutting her illusions apart.
His words struck deeper than the cold snow beneath her back.
"Today, this happened. You might think it was a coincidence, or that it only happened because these people wanted it to. But let me tell you no. It wasnât. It was the world. The world itself wanted this to happen to you. It wanted you to be broken, to be sad, and in the end after four long years of pain to kill yourself with your own hands. That is your fate. That is the line of duty you must walk, because the world has already decided it for you."
Nancyâs breath caught in her throat, her chest shuddering.
"I saved you today," Razeal went on, his voice dropping lower, colder. "But donât mistake this as salvation. It changes nothing. Fate has locked you. Pain will find you again. Tomorrow it may be betrayal, or disease, or loss, or some other cruelty. Your end is written. It will hunt you without mercy. Because in the eyes of this world... youâre not a person. Youâre a lesson. A story to some certain so he could change."
Her tears poured freely now, streaming down the sides of her face into the snow.
"So fight," Razeal snapped, his eyes burning with cold fury. "Fight, because you canât run. Fate will ruin you, but donât let it win. Donât give it the satisfaction of your surrender. This is your life not a lesson for someone else to learn. So destroy your fate before it destroys you."
Nancy didnât understand what he truly meant. His words were jagged, unclear but something in them pierced her deeper than reason. A shiver ran through her, stronger than anything sheâd ever felt. Her body reacted before her mind could, and the tears came fast, unstoppable. She wasnât thinking of fear, wasnât even resisting. What she felt was something older, heavier pure sadness, as if her whole being had surrendered to the balance of the world.
"Go to Riven," Razeal said, his tone colder than the wind. "A boy with white hair and white eyes. Heâs your brotherâs classmate. He cannot lie to anyone. Ask him. He will confirm everything."
But Nancy couldnât move. Her face was blank, frozen in paralysis, her body refusing to respond. Only her tears betrayed her, spilling freely down her cheeks.
And her tears didnât stop. They only flowed faster.
Razealâs eyes narrowed, disapproval sharpening his expression.
"These tears..." he muttered, his grip on her armor squeezing until the metal groaned. "Theyâre worthless. Tears are for the weak."
Nancy flinched at his harshness, but he didnât stop.
"Look into my eyes," he commanded. "Do you see any crying there? Any wetness? No. These are the eyes of someone who fights fate. If you want to survive, forget the tears. You donât have the privilege."
His words struck her harder than the cold snow or even Ranguardâs betrayal.
For the first time, Nancy forced her gaze fully onto his. They were centimeters apart, his breath warm against her face, his black eyes boring into her soul.
She searched those eyes, desperately trying to read him and realized he was right. There was nothing there. No wetness. No trace of grief. Not even the shadow of sorrow.
But then she saw it.
What she had mistaken for coldness was not emptiness at all it was strength. A defiant, audacious strength. His eyes were not lifeless; they were unshakable. They carried a fierce trust in himself, an iron belief so absolute that he could never break, never bend, never cry. His eyes were a symbol of defiance itself.
And something about them pulled her in. A strange, magnetic force made her want to have eyes like his even if it meant lying to herself, even if it meant pretending to be strong when she wasnât. She tried. She willed her tears to stop, forcing her body to mimic the hardness in his stare.
But she failed.
The tears kept coming, spilling faster, heavier, endless. Because it wasnât just her will that cried it was her whole being. Every part of her screamed in grief, as if it already knew the truth: that their time had come to an end.
And in that surrender, all she could do was cry.
While this was happening, Ranguard and Togi stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold.
The white haired boy was crouched low, gripping the collar of Nancyâs armor, speaking to her in that icy, merciless tone of his. To Ranguard and Togi, it almost looked like he had forgotten they even existed.
Togiâs jaw clenched, his thick arms twitching with the urge to move. His voice, rough and sharp, finally broke the silence between them.
"Should we attack him? Wait why are we even waiting?" His eyes narrowed, locked onto Razealâs exposed back, his stance so open it almost looked like an invitation. "Heâs ignoring us like weâre fucking air."
Ranguardâs frown deepened. "We canât," he replied, voice low but firm. "Heâs complicated. This isnât just some reckless brat. That boy fought head-to-head with the Faerelith girl. His skills are strange and unpredictable. Even if we go together, we canât guarantee ending him in an instant.
Togi scoffed, his killing intent leaking into the air like a suffocating fog. "Do you think he can beat me? I saw his strength yesterday. And Sylva Faerelith? She wasnât even using a fraction of her real power. If sheâd gone serious, heâd be dead in less than a blink. I can kill him.. and we have to. We donât have a choice. He saw what we tried to do to her. Do you want to leave witnesses?" His eyes burned hotter with each word, trying to drill his conviction into Ranguard.
"I know that better than you," Ranguard shot back, his voice sharper now. "But I can read situations better than your hot blood can. Youâre acting impulsive. His powers are tricky shadows, strange abilities, things we donât understand. Donât forget who he is. This sixteen-year-old ran from the Virelan family, the family which have the worldâs most terrifying intelligence network, and they never to caught him. Never. Atleast not until he revealed himself when he wanted to. And he did that when he was ten, And now heâs here, stepping into a situation that makes us his enemies. Do you think heâd dare walk into that if he wasnât absolutely sure he could fuck with us without dying? Or at the very least, protect himself?"
He rubbed his beard again, the snow clinging to the hairs. "I didnât grow this beard by playing around, boy. I know which people are dangerous and which arenât. And him? Heâs dangerous."
Togiâs teeth ground together, the muscles in his thick neck bulging. "So what then? We just stand here and let it be? If that girl gets out alive without you doing what you planned, weâre dead men walking. You know that as well as I do." His fists curled, his knuckles white.
Ranguard exhaled slowly, calming himself. "No. We try talking first. Donât forget he isnât some holy knight. Heâs not clean himself. Donât you remember? He tried to rape someone when he was just ten. Do you really think someone like that is beyond persuasion? Maybe he can be convinced to look the other way, if we offer the right words."
Togiâs eyes narrowed, doubt flashing across his face. "And if he doesnât? If he wonât listen?"
"Then we deal with it. But if we fight him now, itâll get ugly. Loud. And I donât want noise. Not here. Atleast we should try? Right?" Ranguardâs gaze flicked to Nancy, lying limp in the snow, her eyes locked on Razeal as though chained by the weight of his words. "Better to try quiet first."
Togi huffed, shaking his head in frustration. "Fine. But if it doesnât work, Iâm killing him myself. This isnât just your life on the line, Ranguard. Itâs mine too. If she walks away, weâre both fucked." His fingers twitched, itching to move, as though ready to slice through the Razeals the instant talking failed.
Meanwhile, Razeal still crouched low, his attention entirely on Nancy. He hadnât so much as glanced at the two men behind him, as though they were gnats buzzing in the wind. His eyes were fixed on the girl before him, her tears still falling despite his sharp words.
He shook his head slowly, almost disappointed. Maybe she was just scared. Anyone would be in her situation. But he had expected more from her.
"Donât stress about it," he said, his voice calm but firm. "Your body is just poisoned. Paralysis poison of seventh rank. Four days, no more. Your draconic physique will burn it out on its own. Youâll recover."
He released his grip on her armor collar, and Nancyâs body dropped back into the snow with a soft thud. Her limbs were useless, limp, but her eyes locked onto the cloudy sky above her. Snowflakes drifted gently down, melting on her cheeks, mixing with the tears that wouldnât stop flowing.
And yet... her mind refused to let go of his words. Fight with fate. Four years. Death. Betrayal. The white-haired boy, Riven... Eyes that do not cry.
His eyes, she thought, remembering the dark abyss that had stared into her own. Eyes that refused to bend. She wanted those eyes. She wanted that strength. Even if she had to lie to herself, she wanted to stand with that kind of defiance.
Razeal straightened, his shadowed figure looming against the storm of white around them. He turned toward Ranguard and Togi now, his cold gaze sweeping over them. But then, almost as an afterthought, he looked back down at Nancy one final time.
"Good luck with your survival," he said, his voice cutting through the wind like a blade. "Hope you donât break. Beleive me you arent the first person am trying this on."
His words echoed in her ears, sinking deep into her soul. And as the snow continued to fall, Nancyâs tears fell harder, her heart trembling at the impossible challenge which she doesnât even understand he had thrown onto her shoulders.
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