Chapter 119: A Ghoul

Looking up, I saw a blonde young woman with her hair tied in an elegant ponytail, a carefully styled bang swept to one side, and two strands framing her face. She wore a purple vest matching a ribbon of the same color adorning her hair, and her expression dripped with contempt.

It was Alice, a mage. White smoke slowly dissipated in the night breeze from her index finger. I knew the spell she had used was something called a magic missile. This was a spell to form compressed magical projectiles and modify the shape of arrowheads, but the books in Cassie’s medallion didn’t say it was so powerful and terrifying. Though it was a basic spell, she had skipped the incantation, and the missile’s effect far surpassed the common sense of any experienced mage.

Spells were manifestations of a mage’s stellar energy. They required knowledge of a specific model to shape the energy for the desired effect. Casting a spell without mastering its matrix was a risky task, as it could fail and trigger an uncontrolled energy reaction.

—Though, who wouldn’t have in those circumstances? —commented another present, with a slightly compassionate tone.

This was Leo, a man of average height distinguished by delicate facial features and bright orange hair, seemingly around Mica’s age. His hair was slightly short and spiky, with strands covering his forehead and longer ones jutting upward from the top of his head. His hazel eyes were almost always hidden behind blue-tinted sunglasses with a thin frame. He wore a green coat with a wide collar lined with prominent, pointed whitish-brown fur edging the hood, over a dark shirt featuring a menacing skull with eyes obscured by bands crossing its face. His pants were loose with many pockets, and he wore well-polished black shoes.

In a matter of seconds, all the bodyguards present were annihilated with terrifying efficiency. They were truly an intimidating elite team. This was the first time I had seen them in action, and the cold, ruthless way they killed people—so different from how they had treated me—made it clear that none of them were good people. I gritted my teeth as I ran down the hallway; I had to find Daphne and check if she was still alive.

—Guh… Help… I… I have a daughter! —I heard someone plead as I ran.

In one of the rooms, I recognized the pitiful pleas of Daphne’s father. I hesitated for a moment, pausing briefly. It sounded like he was being slowly strangled.

—Oh, I didn’t expect a ghoul to beg for his daughter —another voice mocked with a sweet tone—. Relax. You’ll join her wherever you’re going.

«Ghoul?» I blinked, bewildered. The aggressor’s voice was strikingly familiar. There was no doubt about it: it was Mica’s voice. My heart raced as I heard her response. Was Daphne involved in this too? Or was she already…?

—My daughter too… Have you no mercy? —the man pleaded with his last breath.

I ignored the unfortunate man’s situation, knowing there was nothing I could do for him, and descended the stairs leading to the mansion’s first floor. In a few seconds, I reached the main door, exited the mansion, and headed toward the dense forest, where I believed Daphne might be.

—Miss, this way! Hurry! —The urgent voice of a guard echoed in the distance.

I could see the bodyguard holding Daphne’s hand as they ran through the trees, their figures barely visible among the shadows.

—What’s happening? —Daphne asked, her voice unsteady, reflecting her fear.

—For now, head to the shed! You’ll be safe there! —the guard replied, pulling her along.

Ahead of the pair, about a hundred meters away, a large warehouse loomed like a final refuge. The warehouse was made of gray stone and had a thick metal door, designed to withstand any attempt to force it open.

—I found you, Daphne! —I shouted with all my might.

I was breathing heavily. I felt out of breath, my lungs burning from running so much through the forest surrounding the mansion. I regretted not having trained my body better. I wasn’t like Arceus, who seemed like an tireless battle machine.

—Reinhardt! —Daphne exclaimed upon seeing me.

She and the guard stopped and turned to look at me. However, before either could say anything more, Anastasia descended from the sky like an angel of death. It seemed they had already finished off all the mansion’s guards. I wanted to turn and confront her, talk to her, reason somehow. But the woman was like a ghost; in the blink of an eye, she vanished from my sight. With a bad feeling, I looked ahead.

Sure enough, she reached the guard and sliced him in half with a clean, precise horizontal cut. Blood soaked the grass as the body collapsed in two parts, creating a macabre spectacle.

Daphne, watching the scene from the side, visibly paled as she tried to back away but fell to the ground, tripping over her own feet. Her wide-open eyes reflected absolute fear.

Anastasia stood before the terrified girl, who looked at her with tears in her eyes. She raised her arm, sword in hand, preparing to deliver the final blow…

—Wait, damn it! —I couldn’t watch any longer and shouted with all the strength my lungs could muster.

Only then did Anastasia turn and deign to look at me. Her cold eyes studied me carefully, as if assessing my worth.

—Why are you stopping me? —she asked.

Her expression was icy as she stared at me with a furrowed brow. She seemed genuinely annoyed, perhaps even irritated by my behavior. I knew, at the very least, that Anastasia wasn’t someone I could defeat at that moment.

Hell, I even doubted I could last five seconds in combat against her. But… I couldn’t worry about that. Besides, I couldn’t let an innocent girl go unsaved. I knew she wouldn’t kill me. At least, I wanted to believe in that slim possibility.

—They’re after the money, right? Please, let this girl go. She’s innocent —I pleaded, using the only weapon I could wield against her, which was also my greatest specialty: words. As long as I could talk, I was sure I wouldn’t lose to anyone.

—Kid. You said something about not killing the innocent, didn’t you? —Anastasia approached the warehouse in front of us and, with a powerful kick, broke the steel lock and opened the thick door—. Will you be able to say the same after seeing this?

The door flew inward, revealing an almost total darkness, like the mouth of a starving wolf. From where I stood, I couldn’t see anything beyond the shadows.

—Take a look. This is the darkness of Sherazade —she said in a voice devoid of emotion.

Intrigued by her words, I approached the warehouse with slow, cautious steps. A bad feeling gripped my chest like an iron fist. My conscience screamed that I shouldn’t see whatever was inside, but my steps didn’t stop, driven by a morbid curiosity I couldn’t control.

Finally, I saw what I had feared so much.