Reborn Financier-Chapter 30 - 29: Crimson Whispers in the Dark

The silence in the manor was deceiving, an illusion of uncertainty—like the calm before a bloodbath. But deep within the darkness, shadows moved. The moon light, glowing crimson red into the hallways, the smell of blood everywhere. House crumbling due to the destruction caused by the battle.

Lord Nicolas Ravenswood ran.

The instant after words from the enigmatic man’s lips, nature asserted herself—raw animal fear clung to his legs in fetters. It was like a nice in the country of cat, having no where to hide, but can only run. With the last shred of strength in his legs, he plunged for the open passageway, barely registered beyond coarse splinters of moonlight shining in through cracked panes. His varnished shoes skittered over smooth stone floor, his feet dragging hesitantly, shapelessly, wildly. Without even a care of his looks as he ran, snot drained down is nasal cavity and tears from his eye. Only the taught of running and living was all he could think of.

The once composed, cold-hearted noble who used to inspire dread in others now looked like a man escaping death. And perhaps... he was. Took quick, ragged breaths, his heart pounding in his chest like war drums. Mind thinking ahead of body. He’s not human. That man. No, that creature. who is he? Why is he after me? Did the empire betray me? Is this how I die? I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die. Lord Ravenswood said, gasping for air, running and running. Not knowing what do aside running.

Behind him stood the mysterious man, he did not budge, his body lost in the shadows. A smile etched his face, one that showed no empathy, no interest... only amusement.

"Run, then, run, run, run. Let see the mighty Nicolas Ravenswood dread for his life" he whispered, having a wicked smile on his face as he enjoyed the despair all over the face of a noble.

BOOM

A noise cut through the air abruptly, thunder-like. The world swung over—at an angle, as if space bent, reality disintegrated. Nicolas’s vision split in two, his sense of direction vanished. The hall whirled frantically. His body sprang forward awkwardly—and stopped.

He didn’t even feel the blade. It was a clean cut, beautifully showing the martial skill of a martial master, with was jaw dropping out of this world.

His head rolled forward, hitting the gleaming floor with wet, crunching thud. Crimson blood exploded like a geyser from the open stump of his neck. His body—which had once been dignified, proud, and dressed in all the trappings of nobility—thudded to the floor in spasmodic, twisted heaps.

He had Alex behind him, his hand still down off the swing. His cloak was spattered with blood, dropping in heavy plunks to the ground.

"Too easy, but fun" he muttered.

****

Ahhhhhhhhhh!

A child’s scream pierced through silence. His gaze darted to the hallway—his expression shifting for the first time. Surprised. "A girl’s voice?" he complained. "Nobody informed me there are children in this place. Tch. that’s not part of the job."

His face froze in irritation. "I’d rather not have to deal with the hassles that spook children. Better I leave before I am seen.." He sprang to the nearest window in one leap, and vanished in the cold moonlight, his mantle flowing behind him like death’s wings.

****

In the corridor:

Her shriek echoed off blood-slicked walls, her hands flailing frantically, her body frozen where she stood. Her purple eyes stared blankly in front of her at the horror before her—her uncle’s dismembered head, cut from his body, coming to rest. before her. His lifeless body lying just opposite her. The blood crept her way in slow fingers of living malevolence.

"No. no." she whimpered, then screamed loudly again, backing away. "Uncle, Uncle Nicolas, uncle, please, please, please" she said, slowly fall into despair as tears fell from her eyes.

Princess Charlotte leapt forward, caught her daughter in her arms, holding her away from this repulsive sight with both arms. She pulled her trembling girl to her breast, holding Elizabeth’s face pressed hard to her. Her own face streamed with tears—tears of horror, of sorrow, of regret.

Don’t look. Don’t look at it, my darling. Shhh." she whispered softly, even as she herself shuddered with sorrow of seeing her once beloved twin, decapitated and lifeless body, just lying motionless on the floor.

Her eye slid over to the body—the shaking limbs now stilled, blood flowing into the carpet in slow droplets like crimson wine. Her brother, the one with whom she had placed her life, lay mutilated in a hallway fit for monarchs.

Prince David remained there. He didn’t scream. Neither did he weep. He simply stared. He was calm, shakes by the sight but calm. He wasn’t overcome by emotions, instead it was controlled. His pale blue eyes did not give anything away. A ten-year-old—but with the eyes of someone who had grown battle-hardy. "We have to leave," he said, his tone as chill as ice. "I can hear footsteps coming."

Charlotte gave one last look at her brother’s body. She attempted to speak. Forgive me. I’m sorry. But nothing left her lips. Different taught engulf her heart wondering who, why and when her brother was killed. She also wondered about the whereabout of kaidën and if he managed to escape alive. Even with so much questions, she could only move forward and hope for the best. She instead turned towards the child, "Come along, children. Let go away from here quickly."

****

Beyond the abandoned mansion

The night was no longer quiet. Two figures hove over the house as if drawn by nothing so much as sheer air—Alex, the mysterious man who was the cause of Lord Ravenswood death and another hooded individual, this one dressed in fitted black leather, her hair drawn tight into whip-like tendrils along her side. Around her waist, a short red dagger throbbed with glowing ember intensity.

"Alex," she said dryly, her tone unmoved, "what took you so long? Don’t even try to suggest you were playing with your food again."

Alex yawned, spreading his arms. "There’s nothing wrong with having enjoyment, Lyia. I’m merely having fun. A nobleman and half-demon, respectively, both screamed as if they had just turned prey, you can’t just expect me to kill them in one strick, where is the fun in that."

Lyia rolled her eyes. "You know quite well that the boss is expecting us. You are wasting our time, and you know how much the boss hate when waiting for people."

Before Alex could respond—

SHHH

Swinging in huge arcs, whirling like a projectile, the gigantic sword hurtled through space at them. The two operatives retreated in tandem, narrowly avoiding being sliced by the sword. It smashed through the roof with earth-quaking impact, shearing stone.

"What hell?" Alex’s voice cut sharper, eyes scouring the gloom below.

Then they noticed him.

One lone figure sits upon a gnarled branch of a tree such as a forest spirit. This person’s hair Glowing black in moonlight. A thick white blindfold encased his eyes, even so he stared straight ahead.

Kaidën

His presence was overwhelming. Even from a distance, his presence commanded authority—a suffocating weight in the air that smothered all that he touched. A child holding more overwhelming power and authority even when compared to the king. A child who compels fear in the weak and Despair in the strong.

"Why is there a child here?" Lyia whispered.

"He. he can see us." Alex growled. "No. Impossible. We are three hundred metres in altitude--he is blind--how."

Before I could complete the thought—

BOOM

Kaidën pushed himself through the air with inhuman speed. One moment he was over them—then under, kicking both killers out of the sky like rag dolls. Lyia’s spine impacted with a tree, splitting it down the middle, and Alex hit the ground with a hard grunt.

The air surrounding distorted. As the entire surrounding was engulf in kaidën zone, his domain.

"What is this crap?" Alex exclaimed. "I. I can’t fly. My body—it’s". Lyia struggled to sit up, alarm flashing across her face. She jumped—nothing. Her body did not move. "No flight. we are grounded." "We are in his domain. Master of the martial arts’ domain!"

Both looked up—now Kaidën towering over them, motionless and silent, blindfold flowing. There lay his expressionless face. And his aura of fear.

"That kid. Is a martial expert, and a high level one at that" Lyia panted. "He can’t be more than twelve years old, even if he was a genius it not possible, even if he trained right from the womb, it still won’t be possible."

"No," Alex swallowed. "This is not at martial expert level. This is something different. His presence. is not natural, he is strong, if not stronger than me." Lyia turned towards Alex looking surprised, "you mean he is a martial master?"

He moved forward, his bare feet firmly planted on the ground.

"You killed them," Alex whispered. His words lacked warmth. Were hollow. Empty. "I witnessed Paul die. The death of the guards, it was you right, you killed them all."

Lyia drew her dagger, bending. "If he is indeed a demon. we have to kill him in here."

Alex nodded, producing twin blades with red runes carved upon them. "No holding back."

Kaidën tilted his head to one side, as if he heard something the others did not.

His face turned dark.

"Come then," he whispered. "Come, try to survive with me in the darkness from which I have come."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Chapter 30: "The Demon Child vs. The Blades of Death"