The doors to the private chamber swung open with a heavy creak.
Marlow stepped out, his face and robes drenched in blood. Behind him, a wave of heat and the stench of burnt flesh spilled into the corridor, clinging to the air like a wretched curse.
He slowly turned his head towards Count Ward.
The mont their eyes t, the Count’s face turned pale. "M-my Prince?! W-what the hell happened to you?!"
Marlow didn’t reply.
With a cold, detached look on his face, he walked towards the Count.
Burne’s heart sank with every step he took. His body trembled uncontrollably, his body was drenched in sweat, and it soon soaked his cloak. Before long, his trousers were wet, stained a sickly yellow from fear.
"What’s the matter, my friend?" Marlow asked with a cold smile as he stood before him.
"W-wait! Please!" Burne raised his trembling hands. "I-I can explain! Please, j-just... just give a chance—"
Tap!
Marlow cut him off as he placed a hand on his shoulder.
He looked Burne Ward in the eye and said in an even voice. "You betrayed my trust, and for that... you must pay the price."
Flas erupted across Burne’s body in an instant, engulfing him before he could even take a step back. His scream tore through the dimly lit corridor before gradually weakening as the fire consud him.
The fire burned relentlessly, reducing flesh and bones to a crisp. When the flas finally died down, the screams were gone, leaving behind only a charred, lifeless husk where Burne Ward once stood.
Marlow stood in silence, staring at Burne’s charred remains. The sll of ash lingered, but his expression did not change.
All he could think of was the betrayal, of how soone he had once called a friend had stood at his side, smiling, all the while sharpening the knife ant for his back, and how his enemies had exploited his weakness for lust to strike at those he loved.
Never again, he silently promised himself.
He inhaled deeply, his ruby eyes flashing with a solemn light.
Such was the burden of those who lived beside the throne.
He couldn’t help but softly murmur to himself, "Surrounded by faces, yet forever alone..."
Behind him, Adam stood with a smile, wearing a face that wasn’t his own.
The first half of the act had concluded. He had directed the play with Marlow as one of the central characters, and now that arc had reached its end, one marked by blood, betrayal, clarity, and the bitter realization of his own mistakes.
Now, it was ti for the second half of the play to begin.
Rumble!
The basent of the manor trembled at that mont. Marlow’s face turned ashen as he looked in the direction of the underground level.
"Father," he muttered in a grim voice.
The plan was to retreat imdiately after dealing with Leila and Burne. After all, he still had to take care of the people who worked for the Count. But now, Marlow felt his resolve waver.
He cared deeply about his father’s safety. A newly-advanced Mana Core Magus, no matter how talented, would struggle against a veteran like Osbert. The thought gnawed at him, and he couldn’t help but hesitate.
Retreat and follow the plan?
Or stay and help his father?
Right at that mont, a bewitching voice echoed in his ears, causing him to slip into a brief daze.
"Go. Your father is strong. He will be fine. Trust the plan."
Adam whispered.
And Marlow listened.
A split-second later, the Prince’s eyes sharpened. He cast one final glance towards the underground basent, then turned and rushed out of the manor.
***
A few minutes earlier.
Osbert sat in the basent, his senses spread outward, thodically scanning for any potential threats.
He had always done this whenever Marlow ca to visit Leila. The pair’s degenerate indulgences held no interest for him whatsoever.
All he cared about was whether soone was tailing Marlow or if an unseen presence was spying on the manor.
However, even he, with his sharp senses honed by centuries of experience, never discovered the presence of another person who had entered the manor along with Marlow. Nor did he find out that Count Burne Ward had been an illusory figure all along.
When the atmosphere inside the private chamber upstairs violently changed, Osbert did not notice.
When Marlow ruthlessly murdered Leila, Osbert montarily felt his senses turn sluggish.
When Marlow erged from the chamber and viciously burned "Count Ward", the heaviness weighing on Osbert’s senses abruptly vanished, and his perception turned sharp again.
He imdiately frowned when he realized what had just happened.
In those few brief seconds when his senses went dark, another figure slipped into the manor and rapidly descended towards his position.
But by the ti Osbert finally gained awareness, it was already too late. The figure was already before him, holding a strange tallic sphere in his hands.
The necromancer’s eyes widened in disbelief when he saw that person. He imdiately recognized the man.
Crimson hair streaked with gray, ruby eyes blazing with murderous wrath, and a middle-aged face carved with cold hostility.
But what stunned Osbert even more was the unmistakable aura of strength radiating from the man.
"Maximillian Fireborne," he blurted out in disbelief. "When did you—"
But the King coldly cut him off.
"First, get off my land."
A mont later, he activated the tallic sphere.
The sphere pulsed with mana, then lted outward as if losing solidity. Liquid tal spilled into the air, stretching and folding in and of itself, rapidly forming a translucent cage that sealed around the two n.
The cage tightened and shrank. Space twisted inward, and in the next instant... the basent was empty.
***
Monts later, the liquid cage reappeared high above Amberfall, suspended in the twilight sky. Beneath them, the city spread out in a sea of lights and celebration, utterly unaware that a decisive battle had just been pulled into the heavens above.
Everything had happened so fast that Osbert was montarily stunned. He nearly plunged from the sky before instinctively casting Flight and stabilizing himself midair.
When he looked up again, his gaze turned icy as it locked onto the red-haired Magus levitating before him.
"Mana Core Rank!" he spat venomously.
Maximillian let out a shaky breath. To be honest, he was surprised he had managed to pull that off. He had been almost certain that Osbert would sense his presence beforehand and stop him from activating the teleportation artifact.
But sohow... things had worked out in his favor.
"It’s not polite to trespass on another’s property, Magus."
Maximillian showed a faint smile as he slowly released his mana pressure. The air around him trembled with rising heat, his aura surging higher and higher, distorting the sky itself.
Osbert knew that his carefully crafted plan had failed. He was certain that Leila and Burne were killed as well.
"If it’s co to this, then..." His eyes glead with a ruthless light. "I’ll finish you right here, right now!"
But before he could strike, his pupils constricted, and he suddenly shifted his attention downward towards the city.
***
A few monts earlier, an unassuming old man had seated himself in his usual tea shop, having ordered the herbal tea he always ordered.
Just as he lifted the cup to his lips and was about to take a sip, his murky eyes suddenly narrowed.
A powerful aura had flared in the skies above, and it was rapidly intensifying.
The old man raised his head, his gaze piercing through the haze until he noticed two vast presences about to clash in the twilight sky.
He let out a sigh and set the cup back on the table.
The next mont... he soared towards the sky.
Bunosilo — the real Bunosilo — had made his move!
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