Chapter 322: Chapter 321 - Recap from Baron Harkon.
Back to Marquise Colombore’s mansion.
The group slowly entered the ruin, which was once a huge mansion.
The sharp stench of blood grew stronger with every step, iron and rot mingling with the acrid bite of burnt stone.
Rubble shifted beneath their feet, crunching and grinding as their boots pressed shards of marble and glass into powder.
The hall was unrecognizable. Walls were no longer walls but merely concrete, somehow still standing despite their condition.
Gouges and slashes marred the stones—marks of spells and blades colliding in frenzy or at least being used on someone. Scorched craters pocked the floors where fire and lightning had struck.
Blood painted it all, slick and black in the moonlight, some of it smeared into handprints, some of it splattered into arcs that told of violent deaths.
Raven’s eyes narrowed, its crimson glow slicing through the smoke.
Siris’s lips curled into a scowl. Selena’s shadow creatures sniffed the air and hissed. Clara pressed her hands to her mouth, staring at the crimson-stained stones.
Jessy looked away, her jaw tight, while Graye merely stared at all this with her jaw dropped.
It was then that they heard it—a cough.
It was sharp, weak, but human.
Every head snapped toward it.
A massive slab of concrete leaned against broken beams, trembling faintly under its own weight.
Without a word, Lia lifted her hand.
Vines sprouted from the rubble itself, twisting up and around the slab like serpents. With a creak and groan, the slab lifted, suspended in a net of green.
The sight beneath stole the breath from their lungs.
Three bodies.
Two lay motionless in a pool of blood, their lifeblood soaking into the stone, eyes glassy and unseeing. The third knelt between them, his face pale and streaked with crimson.
His hands glowed faintly with desperate healing magic, pressed to their wounds, trembling as he whispered spells through broken teeth.
He didn’t notice that they were already gone.
"...No," Alex’s voice cracked.
Because the dead were not strangers.
Hamilton. His master. His mentor. The man who had taught him to punch until his knuckles split and then laugh about it. His chest was still, his face slack, blood darkening the scars that once told his stories.
Beside him, Faron lay lifeless, the same Faron who had taught Jake to cut quick, to strike faster than thought. His sword arm stretched out limply, fingers stiffened around a blade he never got to swing.
"No!" Alex roared, sprinting forward before anyone could stop him.
He shoved the healer aside, heedless of the man’s gasping weakness, and dropped to his knees. His arms wrapped around Hamilton’s bloodied body, shaking him, clutching him, as if sheer force of will could wake him.
"Get up!" Alex’s voice shattered, breaking into a sob. "You’re not— You can’t— You told me we’d fight together again! You promised!"
Nibbles, usually perched on his shoulder, had slipped silently to Raven’s, his small body trembling as he clung to his fur.
No matter who it was, they could all feel Alex’s grief.
The healer—Baron Harkon—on the other hand, slumped to the side where Alex had shoved him, his breath shallow, his strength gone.
He lay still on the stones, staring blankly upward, with no energy left even to defend himself.
Slowly, the others’ eyes began to wander.
The mansion’s shadow no longer concealed what lay within. Dozens of bodies littered the ruin. Nobles in silks, their finery shredded and stained.
Vaise information gatherers, blades still in their hands, throats torn, faces frozen in defiance. Death lined the hall like a gallery, every corpse a portrait of despair.
Lia knelt by Harkon at once, her hands glowing green as vines slithered to his wounds, patching and binding.
"I’ll keep you alive," she murmured, her voice taut, "but I can’t give more. We don’t know what waits."
After all, they still didn’t see any demons, so it wasn’t wise to waste their energies.
Raven’s gaze, on the other hand, drifted further and then froze.
Among the corpses, one stood out.
Benoit Colombore.
Unlike the shredded, battered remains of the others, his body was almost untouched. Only a single dagger wound marred his chest, piercing straight through his heart.
His expression was strangely calm, lips set, eyes faintly open, as though he had known how his ending was going to be.
Baron Harkon, now able to breathe again, noticed Raven’s stare. His cracked lips moved, his voice little more than a rasp.
"The boy... killed himself."
Every head turned toward him.
Harkon’s eyes unfocused, as if replaying it all in his mind. His words spilled out, weak and trembling, yet cutting like knives.
"The demons... they are gone, yes. But you shouldn’t think that means safety." He coughed, blood flecking his mouth. "They toyed with us. Effortless. Cruel."
He tried to sit up, failing. "Only one of them pretended to fight. But when Sir Hamilton and Sir Faron tried to strike, all six moved at once. Blades, claws, fangs—piercing them from three sides."
"Those demons were too fast and precise." He glanced at Hamilton and Faron’s bodies. "They nearly killed them in a breath."
Everyone—Selena, Siris, Clara, Rufus, Jessy, Graye, and Alex—clenched their fists as the sound of finger bones cracking echoed through the surroundings.
Harkon’s voice broke as he turned toward Benoit. "That boy... he knew. Knew what they wanted from him. He wouldn’t let them. So... he drove his own dagger into his heart."
He closed his eyes again, as if trying to recall something he didn’t want to. "Benoit’s death... enraged one demon. From then on, for half an hour, he tortured the rest of us. Kept us alive... to laugh. To savor."
His shoulders shook, his words growing hollow. "The others—nobles, my companions—they screamed until they couldn’t anymore. And the demons only watched."
Clara’s hand tightened over her mouth. Graye’s fire flickered at her fingertips, struggling to escape her control. Siris’s daggers clinked softly, trembling in her hands.
"When they finished," Harkon whispered, "they spared me. Told me to deliver their words."
His voice dropped into silence, and when it rose again, it was hoarse with despair. "They said... to tell you guys to say goodbye. Goodbye to the capital city."
Silence fell.
The meaning hung in the air like a blade at their throats.
The demons were not just taunting. They were declaring.
The capital city was next.
Harkon’s hands slipped from his chest, falling limp to the ground. His voice cracked once more.
"I tried... to save them. The last two. Hamilton, Faron... but..." His lips trembled. "...it seems they didn’t survive in the end."
Alex clutched Hamilton tighter, his sobs breaking the silence that followed, raw and guttural.
Jake wasn’t with them, but they could imagine his grief when he knew his master was dead. For now, Rufus moved toward Feron’s corpse, closing his eyes.
The ruins held their grief, the shadows thick, the night darker than ever.
In the center, Raven stood unmoving, crimson eyes burning, his silence heavier than any scream.
He knew that they had walked into a trap made by the demons.
The neutral faction was never the demons’ aim. They had always wanted to attack the capital city, but since Raven and his group stayed there, it wasn’t possible.
Worse yet, it wasn’t any low-rank demon that moved, but the demon generals moving this time.
There was no other way to define how Elder Hamilton and Elder Faron would lose so quickly. After all, even if they weren’t the strongest, they were still peak plate eights.
No matter how unprepared they were, the two of them wouldn’t be defeated like that even if they were warlord demons.
It was then that Selena stepped closer to him.
"Raven," she called. "I don’t want to interrupt Alex’s grieving, but what should we do about the capital?"
Her question was genuine, as six demon generals were now headed toward the capital city. There was no saying how many would die.
"Jake’s there..." Clara then stepped forward. "But would he be enough?"
Concern was evident in her voice, as none of them had ever seen Jake’s full power, but even if he was strong, taking on six demon generals at once wasn’t possible.
They were strong enough to take on one demon general each. They could even hold their fort against two demon generals, but six wasn’t possible.
Raven, however, shook his head. "You guys are forgetting what Jake’s power is."
He turned around, his gaze catching everyone, as he could tell that they were all concerned in one way or another.
"He can increase his strength the more he sacrifices," Raven reminded them, then he raised a brow. "Have any of you ever seen him sacrifice even a limb?"
Seeing how others shook their heads, realization sinking in, Raven let a light smile—heavy but still a raise in his lips—appear on his face.
"He had only ever sacrificed his blood in a fight. So, imagine what would happen if he were to sacrifice one of his limbs."
Those words caused everyone to pause, relief flooding into their veins.
That was until Lia frowned.
A second later, her breath caught, her hands trembling as the vines around her withered.
Her eyes snapped wide, glowing faintly as if searching for something unseen.
Then her voice ripped through the ruin, sharp and horrified. "Raven! Jake’s life force—it’s gone!"
The words slammed into them like a blade.
Silence fell. Dread covering the area.
Alex’s sobs halted mid-breath, his arms frozen around Hamilton’s body. Selena’s face drained of color, Clara staggered back, and even Siris’s daggers slipped from her grip.
Jessy, Rufus, and Graye couldn’t even move as they stared at Lia with their eyes wide.
Every heart lurched with disbelief—Jake, one of their friends, was dead.