The burly man blinked his eyes open, revealing his dark irises. He surveyed his surroundings, turning his head from left to right, searching for his companion.
Although the cave was typically shrouded in darkness during nightti, daylight seeped in through cracks, casting a faint glow.
The sound of approaching footsteps heightened his senses. He swiftly raised his upper body, ready to defend himself.
His left hand instinctively reached for a small dirk at his side, preparing to arm himself against the potential intruder. With keen eyes, he observed a man clad in a worn robe entering the cave.
"It’s ," the approaching man announced, his rough voice serving to assuage his companion’s wariness.
The man in the robe drew nearer, carrying a water skin in his hand.
"You seem to be doing better now, Brone," the man remarked.
"Better?" Brone scoffed, his voice filled with scepticism.
His gaze shifted downward to his right, and his eyes reflected the devastation he felt as he beheld the absence of his right limb.
"Is being crippled sothing you consider as a good outco? What a mockery! I would rather die than live like this!" Brone shouted, his frustration and despair echoing through the cave.
"Don’t be foolish! I used most of my magic to heal us both!" the man in the robe yelled back, frustration evident in his voice as he sat beside the Bargesian leader.
"What’s the point? You can’t even make my right hand grow back!" Brone retorted bitterly.
"D*mn it! I nded every broken bone in your body when you were on the brink of death! Don’t make regret depleting my mana for your sake!" the man in the robe exclaid, his voice laced with exasperation.
"I need my right hand to wield my sword again! Only then can I seek revenge and kill that b*stard grand duke, Derek!" the Bargesian leader declared.
Brone clenched his fist in anger, his fury seething through his teeth as he recalled the battle with Kyren and his n on the precipice. He knew that the grand duke was a formidable opponent that could defeat him, as evidenced by their previous encounter.
In his current handicapped state, he had no chance of defeating Kyren. Even at his best, Brone doubted his ability to overco him. This realisation fueled his rage and plunged him into a state of furious madness.
Derek pulled back his hood, revealing his face. He had aged significantly, as if he had lost twenty years of his life in just a few days. His skin had grown paler with brown spots and more wrinkled, and his previously grey hair had turned completely white.
"You... Why do you look worse than yesterday?" Brone furrowed his brow, studying Derek’s deteriorating appearance.
The mage spoke up, "This is the consequence of excessive magic use. My mana is nearly depleted and doesn’t replenish on its own. You know that its source cos from the ritual."
Brone’s mind flashed back to the said ritual, a grim practice that involved sacrificing virgins on the night of the full moon following a victorious war. The more maidens sacrificed, the more mana Derek would gain, enhancing his magic.
Each virgin’s blood contributed to his power. The King of Barges made it a customary event for his army to perform these sacrifices to bolster Derek’s strength.
"D*mn it! We’re trapped in this forest! I’m crippled, and you’re ageing rapidly. What a pathetic situation!"
Brone laughed bitterly at the irony of their circumstances.
"I wouldn’t have expended my magic for no reason, and we will not die here!" Derek asserted firmly.
Brone’s frustration surged.
"So what do we do now? Even though you fixed my broken bones, I’m still weak and useless!"
Derek’s weary eyes t Brone’s.
"You’ve done nothing but spew anger ever since you woke up! I should have made you a mute if I knew you would keep babbling nonsense!" Derek retorted sharply.
"I lost all my n! My assistant, Mikhal, is dead too! Should I be happy about it?" Brone almost roared.
"Don’t start mourning for them like an old lady! They failed in their duty to protect you and !" The mage’s tone was callous.
"They were my loyal n!" the Bargesian leader protested.
"They were useless! They deserved to die!" Derek’s words were cold and heartless.
"Shut up!" Brone shouted, his anger boiling over.
"My magic saved your life! You owe , so you better listen to !" Derek’s shouted back to him.
"It’s not like you can turn the tables now in your current state! You’re weakening!" Brone retorted with frustration.
"I can, and I will!" Derek declared, determination gleaming in his eyes.
"How?" Brone questioned sceptically.
The mage’s gaze shifted to the Bargesian leader’s severed right limb, then to his muscular left hand.
"How skilled are you with your left hand in combat?" he asked.
"Both of my hands were trained in wielding weapons. While I can use my left hand competently, it won’t be as proficient as my right hand," Brone responded.
Derek grinned.
"That will be good enough," he replied cryptically to the Bargesian leader’s question.
"What are you up to?" Brone pressed for an answer.
The mage didn’t imdiately respond. Instead, he handed his water skin to Brone, urging him to drink from it.
"Here, drink this," Derek insisted.
"What is it?" Brone asked sceptically, eyeing the water skin with suspicion.
"Just drink! It’s not poison! If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have saved you in the first place and wasted my magic for nothing!"
Brone took the water skin with a furrowed brow. Its design indicated it belonged to a particular tribe. He opened the cover and took a whiff, imdiately wrinkling his nose at the strange sll emanating from it.
"Drink it now!" Derek urged again, pushing the water skin toward his mouth.
Reluctantly, Brone took a big gulp, coughing as the awful taste assaulted his senses.
"What the h*ll is this?" he exclaid, the repulsive taste lingering on his tongue, threatening to make him gag.
However, he resisted, knowing Derek was determined for him to consu it. It was far worse than any cheap barrel of lousy beer.
"It’s a potion infused with magic. It contains a mixture of virgins’ blood and other ingredients. I couldn’t perform a proper ritual since we have only a half-moon now, but this will do for now," Derek explained calmly.
Brone almost vomited at the revelation, but the mage’s following words made him suppress the urge.
"It will make you three tis stronger than your usual self, and the effects will last for quite a while. I killed three maidens from a nearby tribe to obtain it, so don’t waste my efforts."
To cleanse the terrible aftertaste, Derek reached for a bamboo container and drank the water inside.
After wiping his lips, he inquired, "What is your actual plan? You ntioned having a reason for expending your magic," Brone asked curiously.
Derek didn’t imdiately respond. His finger absentmindedly reached his lower lip, slowly rubbing it as his gaze fixed ahead.
His mind drifted to a figure buried deep within his thoughts—a strikingly handso man with alluring red eyes and long, silken hair.
"The white-haired, gorgeous man who fought against ... He’s one of the Ro’an descendants," Derek said.
Brone’s mory was jogged, recalling their previous conversation in the woods, during which Derek had shared tales of encountering the Ro’an descendants. At the ti, his story had been t with mockery.
"I rember now! He possesses magic and used it against you during the ambush!" Brone exclaid.
"I need the Ro’an descendants," Derek stated firmly. "With them, I won’t have to rely on the ritual anymore, and their blood holds even greater power. But..."
"But what?" Brone interrupted.
"That man... His mana is imnse, and his magic capabilities might extend far beyond what we’ve witnessed. It would be risky to attempt to kidnap him," Derek explained.
"Kidnapping? Why waste ti on such trivial cris?" Brone questioned, perplexed.
Derek’s response held a sinister undertone.
"I need him alive so that I can occasionally feed on his blood, you fool!"
"So, what do you want to do?"
Derek’s gaze sharpened.
"There’s a maiden who looks like him. She’s definitely his sister," Derek replied. "When I was near them during the concubine’s proclamation day, I saw her beside him. I couldn’t sense much strength from her, so she should be weaker than her brother. It would be easier to capture her instead."
Brone suddenly froze. He felt a surge of warmth rushing through his bloodstream, causing his hand to tremble. It seed the potion had started to work.
His veins bulged as the power coursed through him, and the newfound strength spread throughout his body. He stood up, flipping in a display of agility.
"I’m stronger now! I can feel it!" Brone exclaid, a broad smile forming on his face. "Now I can kill that b*stard grand duke!"
Derek quickly intervened, cautioning the Bargesian leader against reckless actions, "Don’t be st*pid! This power is temporary. If you want to be stronger than this and have your right hand restored, you’ll need to follow my plan and focus on kidnapping the Ro’an descendant first."
Brone’s excitent grew as he processed Derek’s words.
"I can have my hand back?"
"Not exactly as your previous hand. I can make a monstrous limb grow from your body with dark magic. It will be far more powerful than before. But to achieve that, we need the blood of the Ro’an descendant," Derek clarified.
Brone’s eyes glead with anticipation.
"I like it. It will make stronger, and I’ll be able to defeat that son of a b*tch! No, before I eliminate him, I’ll take his concubine and defile her before him! He’ll be crying like a dog!"
Brone laughed eerily. He had noticed Kyren’s affection for Anna during the banquet, recognising her as the Achilles heel of the grand duke.
"Good!" Derek approved. "We need to return to Gantz and capture the woman. Since her brother was with the grand duke, they must be nearby. We must act swiftly."
Brone hesitated, expressing his concern, "Wait, you want the two of us to go now? Are you crazy?"
Derek reassured him, "I still have so mana left from the latest ritual I made, and it’s enough to accomplish the task. As long as we avoid unnecessary battles, we’ll be fine. Speed is essential, as I don’t want to lose them. We need to return to the capital as soon as possible."
Brone raised an important issue.
"Their armies and knights would recognise us! We wouldn’t stand a chance!"
Derek confidently responded by raising his hand and moving his palm before Brone’s face. A small tendril of black smoke erged, and suddenly, the Bargesian leader’s appearance changed.
"Look at yourself in the pool," the mage instructed.
Brone took a few steps toward the small pool within the cave, gazing at his reflection. The face looking back at him was no longer his own but that of a different man.
"You... you changed my face!" he exclaid, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his altered cheek.
"That’s enough for us to infiltrate unnoticed. They won’t recognise either since I now appear much older. But be cautious. Once you co into direct contact with the Ro’an descendant’s skin, the magic will be broken, and you’ll revert to your usual appearance. Keep that in mind."
Brone’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming.
"Don’t worry! I know what to do. But, are you sure they are still in Gantz?" he asked.
"My wind-bounded magic sensed they are in that direction. I can cast a spell to sense her exact location once we set foot in the capital. You need to take there..."
Derek’s cough suddenly interrupted the mont, blood spewing from his lips.
The Bargesian leader’s gaze shifted to his companion, realising the urgency behind their mission; the dire need for the Ro’an descendant’s blood to replenish Derek’s fading magic.
"Then, let’s go!" Brone declared.
With revenge as his sole driving force, the Bargesian leader set his sights on their target. He would make the grand duke pay for his past actions, and the Ro’an descendant’s capture was the first step toward achieving that goal.
The taste of power surged through his veins, fueling his determination to succeed.
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