For several long heartbeats, no one moved.
It was as if the world itself had forgotten how to breathe.
Every eye in the courtyard was locked on the sa impossible image, yet no one trusted their vision enough to accept it.
Knights, guards, nobles, attendants, even the shadows cast by the towering pillars seed frozen in place, all of them staring at the sa scene from slightly different angles, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.
Soone whispered, very softly, "Who... who is holding who?"
Another voice followed, shaky and disbelieving. "That’s... that’s Young Master Vance, right?"
"No," soone else said, blinking hard and rubbing their eyes. "That can’t be right."
Another one rubbed his eyes. "Please tell I am dreaming!"
All at the sa ti, they turned to again to make sure they are not mistaking hallucinating everything.
Cain stood there, one arm raised, his palm wrapped around Vance’s head as if it belonged there.
Vance’s feet were barely touching the ground, his body twisted at an awkward angle, his face pale with shock. His eyes were wide, unfocused, his lips parted as if words were stuck sowhere between his chest and his throat.
The longer they stared, the clearer it beca.
They were not imagining it.
Cain was holding Vance.
Not restraining him with struggle or effort, not grappling desperately or using so hidden trick. He was simply holding him, casual and steady, like a man lifting an unruly child by the back of the head.
A wave of panic rippled through the crowd.
Cedrick’s breath caught in his throat. Hall took an unconscious step back, his hand drifting toward his weapon before stopping halfway, his fingers trembling.
Zed’s eyes were so wide they looked like they might tear. William swallowed hard, his mouth dry, his mind refusing to connect what he knew with what he saw.
And Sevette.
Sevette’s smile vanished completely.
Her eyes flicked toward Cain, then toward Vance, then back again, as if her mind was desperately recalculating everything it thought it understood. She could see it clearly. She could feel it in the air.
Cain’s aura was wrong.
No, that wasn’t quite it.
His aura was weak. Fourth stage of Blood Infusion. It was obvious, plain as day to anyone with even basic perception.
anwhile, Vance’s mana roared like a storm, thick and oppressive, sitting firmly at the eleventh stage.
The gap between them was not small. It was ridiculous. It was the kind of gap that turned fights into executions.
And yet.
And yet Vance was the one dangling helplessly.
"This... this.... This
" Hall muttered under his breath, his voice cracking. "This has to be a trick."
"There’s no way," Zed whispered. "No way at all."
Cedrick’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. He knew Vance’s strength. Everyone did. Vance was not just a young noble with a fancy title. He was a monster among his peers, a man who could tear through squads alone. And Cain...
Cain was supposed to be nothing.
Vance finally reacted.
A low snarl escaped his throat as shock gave way to rage. Mana surged violently from his body, crimson light flaring as he tried to break free. His hand shot up, claws forming, aiming straight for Cain’s arm.
Cain didn’t even look at it.
With a simple movent, he shifted his grip, fingers sliding into Vance’s hair at the back of his head. He tightened his hold and yanked.
Vance’s body spun, his face forced forward, his attack shattered before it could even begin. The mana he released crashed uselessly into the air, dispersing like mist.
A collective gasp echoed through the courtyard.
"No... no, this isn’t real," soone said, voice trembling. "Am I dreaming?"
Another laughed nervously, the sound sharp and broken. "This has to be a dream. Soone wake up."
Vance struggled harder now, fury and humiliation burning together. He kicked, twisted, tried to wrench himself free, but every movent was shut down before it even ford. Cain’s grip never faltered. Not once.
Cornelia stared.
Her heart hamred in her chest, her breath coming fast as sothing inside her clicked into place. This ti, there was no haze of anger, no blurred mory clouded by emotion. This was clear. Painfully clear.
Cain was strong.
No.
Cain was terrifying.
She rembered the past, the monts she had dismissed, the tis she had brushed aside his words, his strange confidence, his quiet certainty. She had believed him, once, when he said he was sothing more. She had doubted him, too, when reality didn’t seem to match.
But now, reality was screaming.
Every vampire here could see it.
Cain was handling Vance as if he weighed nothing.
anwhile, Cain’s mind was a ss.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He could feel eyes boring into him from every direction, could feel Cornelia’s gaze like a blade on his back. He needed an excuse. Any excuse. Sothing that didn’t scream Overgod.
Then he heard it.
A whisper from the side.
"Didn’t he use a scroll earlier?"
"Yeah... against the blood soldiers."
"Those ancient enhancent scrolls can last a while, right?"
"I heard so of them boost strength beyond realms."
Cain’s ears caught every word.
Relief crashed into him like a wave.
He laughed.
It burst out of him, loud and unrestrained, echoing across the courtyard. Heads snapped toward him as he tilted his face upward, eyes bright with false confidence.
"Hah," Cain said, shaking his head. "I really thought that was it."
He looked down at Vance, his smile widening. "Who would’ve expected the effect to still be active?"
The whispers exploded.
"So it really was a scroll!"
"That explains it!"
"Those things are terrifying..."
Cain leaned in closer to Vance, his voice dropping low enough that only the two of them could hear. "You picked the wrong person to show off in front of."
Vance snarled. "You... you’re dead."
Cain’s smile vanished.
"Since you dared to attack ," Cain said calmly, "don’t bla for being rciless."
He raised his hand.
The first slap landed with a crack that echoed like thunder.
Vance’s head snapped to the side, his eyes going blank for a split second.
The second slap ca imdiately after.
This ti, disbelief flooded Vance’s face. He stared at Cain, stunned, as if his mind couldn’t process what was happening.
The third slap landed harder.
Shock set in. His mana flickered, his breath coming unevenly.
The fourth slap left him confused, his vision swimming, his pride splintering piece by piece.
Cain didn’t stop.
Slap after slap rang out, each one stripping away another layer of arrogance, another fragnt of composure. The courtyard filled with the sound of flesh against flesh, the rhythm brutal and relentless.
Vance’s thoughts dissolved into chaos.
How is this happening? Why am I getting played by a country bumping!? This isn’t possible. I refuse to accept this!
Rage curdled into hatred.
"Kill if you dare," Vance spat weakly.
Cain slapped him again, harder.
Vance’s words died in his throat as he hit the ground, collapsing in a heap.
Cain stood over him, breathing steady, his gaze cold.
He lifted his head slowly.
And looked at Cornelia.
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