Third Person's POV
While Ethan was planning, Master Argos had finally descended to the ground floor and seamlessly slipped into the throng of onlookers.
His usual arrogance was nowhere to be seen and what was left was only a stunned expression as he watched the unfolding chaos with growing disbelief.
How had things escalated to this point?
What had that idiot of a young master done to provoke the harbinger into attacking the girls so recklessly?
And the damage—the sheer destruction of the hall…
His breath hitched with a newfound panic.
If the higher-ups caught wind that he had played a part in igniting this debacle, what would happen to him?
And then, there was Ethan. His hands clenched involuntarily as his thoughts spiraled.
Eryndor… wasn't he just an arrogant wastrel? A useless troublemaker with nothing but empty bravado?
Then how has he suddenly beco so powerful?
A shiver ran down Argos's spine and for the first ti in a long while, he was grateful that he had exercised restraint.
Had he acted upon his earlier contempt and provoked Ethan himself, he might not have lived to regret it.
Unseen by most, Virelle cast a sharp glare toward the young master and her fingers curled into tight fists before subtly forming an intricate sequence of gestures.
A tiny flicker of bloody light that was no larger than a pin coalesced at her fingertips before it shot away.
It was silent and swift as it vanished beyond the confines of the Imperial Blade Hall toward an unknown destination.
As she watched the sniveling young master revel in his delusions of superiority, a sinister glint darkened her crimson eyes.
Her lips curled into a cold predatory smile as she muttered under her breath with her words laced with unrestrained venom.
"Brother Ethan will break that vile mouth of yours… and as for , I will ensure your filthy manhood is reduced to nothing but a pile of writhing flesh, you wretched bastard."
A dangerous fire burned within her gaze as the recent events replayed in her mind and fueled her rage further.
This was far from over.
Five minutes before…
Virelle leaned against a sturdy pillar and her gaze drifted lazily over the array of weapons on display as she idly awaited Ethan's return.
She had long since understood his subtle fascination with the craft of artificing.
It wasn't difficult to see why he would want to witness the process firsthand, especially when such a rare opportunity presented itself.
As she absentmindedly stroked Velcy's soft hair and was lost in her musings, the dark elf Aurae suddenly broke the silence with an unexpected question.
"Looking at you three, it doesn't seem like you are permanent residents of this city. Are you just passing through?"
Virelle blinked in slight surprise at the inquiry.
The elf's usual subservient and gentle deanor seed to have montarily faded and was replaced by a casual smile and an air of quiet curiosity.
A short silence followed before Virelle finally responded in a soft, asured tone.
"We're heading to the Abyssal Sanctum."
That was all she said. No elaboration. No further details.
Her lips pressed shut and she made it clear that she had no intention of explaining further.
Aurae's sharp eyes flickered with understanding and she seed to recognize the unspoken boundaries in the conversation.
She was about to say sothing else when an irritating whistle cut through the air and was followed by a voice dripping with mockery and entitlent.
"Phew~~Phew~~ Who is this crimson beauty?
Care to spend a night with this young master?
In return, I will give you the glorious opportunity to beco one of my mistresses.
How about it? Aren't I generous? Quickly now, co into this young master's embrace, beauty."
The girls turned with bewildered expressions on their faces while a single thought crossed their minds.
What kind of idiot talks like that?
Their expressions instantly hardened as they spotted the source of the lewd remarks.
A thin lanky young demon strutted through the entrance and his posture reeked of arrogance.
His dull red hair and short twisted horns confird his demonic lineage but his appearance left much to be desired.
Dark circles marred his already sallow face and his skin stretched thin over his bony features, making him look as though life itself had drained him of vitality.
Yet, despite his sickly and frail appearance, the perverse gleam in his murky eyes and the ugly smirk twisting his lips betrayed the filth festering in his mind.
Also, he was not alone.
A tall cloaked black knight trailed behind him with his silent presence exuding a great sense of danger in Virelle and Velcy.
A massive black broadsword rested against his back and its aura seethed with a quiet nace.
At the sight of the knight, a flicker of wariness passed through the girls' eyes and Virelle's grip subtly tightened around Velcy who stiffened under her touch.
Even the perpetual smiling and calm Aurae's serene expression had dimd as an ominous light glinting in her bluish-purple eyes.
Their open disgust did not go unnoticed.
The young demon's face twitched in irritation but before he could voice his displeasure, his gaze suddenly caught sight of the innocent-looking Alia.
And just like that, his interest in Virelle vanished as his attention fixated on a new, more vulnerable target.
He strode swiftly toward Alia's reception desk in quick and possessive movents while the knight behind him remained unmoving like a silent specter of doom.
Alia's breath hitched in sheer dread as he closed the distance.
Fear rooted her in place and her instincts scread at her to run yet she dared not resist.
The mont his pale bony hand reached behind the desk while aiming to snake around her waist, a sudden sharp cracking sound echoed through the hall.
Virelle, who had been watching closely, acted and moved without hesitation.
SLAP!
Her palm connected with his face in a resounding slap and the impact sent his frail body spinning on his heels like a broken marionette.
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