Isadora's once silky silver hair was matted with blood, each drop tracing down a crimson line down her forehead, coursing along her heavy eyelids before pooling at the corner of eyes. It looked as if she was shedding tears of blood.
That was the appearance Varian saw when he rushed out of the cave right after breakthrough.
Rudolph was stepping towards them. He hadn't tried to kill them but they weren't far off.
Especially Sarah, who just fainted. She lay in a pool of blood, like a sleeping princess at the heart of a tragedy.
Rudolph's aura was destroying her body, bit by bit. Without timely treatment, she'd die. And any treatment wasn't possible until the Prince was still alive.
"Hahahaha!" With a roaring laughter, the Prince reached his hands towards them.
Isadora couldn't get up any longer. She found it hard to even more her fingers. But the she stared at Rudolph and let out a weak, but mocking chuckle. "Y-You're so…dea—"
Shuaa!
Before Rudolph could understand why the woman laughed despite facing death, his hands, sliced clean at wrists, dropped to the ground. His forearms sprayed out blood like pipes spraying water, painting the snow scarlet.
The Prince first felt fear before he felt pain. His feet moved on instinct and he jumped back, staggering and almost tripping.
A man appeared in front of him. Black hair, black eyes. He glanced at the two women and his gaze softened.
"We have some grudges," When he turned around, there was no kindness in his eyes.
Rudolph's aura soared out, enveloping his body and preparing for a battle. He had seen those eyes.
Ruthless. Unforgiving. Cold.
There was no talking with these types. They couldn't be cajoled or threatened. If they stand in front of you, it meant only one thing: kill or be killed.
Rudolph's severed hands regenerated and he clenched his fists. "I don't even know—"
The Prince swallowed his words as Varian's disguise disappeared, revealing a young, handsome face.
The chieftan of this backward tribe! The bastard who dared to refuse his order!
"Y-You! How could you?!" Rudolph's mind went blank and his world view seemed to crash.
"How could I, the ruler of a backward place, be even comparable to you, the noble prince, the favorite of orthodoxy?" Varian's lips curled into a cold smile.
A thought suddenly flashed in his mind and a ridiculous possibility formed in the Prince's mind.
Everything so far—from Baldur coming here, to the envoys finding space cracks, the Zions knowing their presence—it was all the plan of this man.
"You guessed it right," Varian swung arm outward. A brilliant red and green glowed in his palm before materializing into a sword—
Requiem.
Requiem's aura surged and enveloped Rudolph before he could realize what was going on.
Isadora's once silky silver hair was matted with blood, each drop tracing down a crimson line down her forehead, coursing along her heavy eyelids before pooling at the corner of eyes. It looked as if she was shedding tears of blood.
That was the appearance Varian saw when he rushed out of the cave right after breakthrough.
Rudolph was stepping towards them. He hadn't tried to kill them but they weren't far off.
Especially Sarah, who just fainted. She lay in a pool of blood, like a sleeping princess at the heart of a tragedy.
Rudolph's aura was destroying her body, bit by bit. Without timely treatment, she'd die. And any treatment wasn't possible until the Prince was still alive.
"Hahahaha!" With a roaring laughter, the Prince reached his hands towards them.
Isadora couldn't get up any longer. She found it hard to even more her fingers. But the she stared at Rudolph and let out a weak, but mocking chuckle. "Y-You're so…dea—"
Shuaa!
Before Rudolph could understand why the woman laughed despite facing death, his hands, sliced clean at wrists, dropped to the ground. His forearms sprayed out blood like pipes spraying water, painting the snow scarlet.
The Prince first felt fear before he felt pain. His feet moved on instinct and he jumped back, staggering and almost tripping.
A man appeared in front of him. Black hair, black eyes. He glanced at the two women and his gaze softened.
"We have some grudges," When he turned around, there was no kindness in his eyes.
Rudolph's aura soared out, enveloping his body and preparing for a battle. He had seen those eyes.
Ruthless. Unforgiving. Cold.
There was no talking with these types. They couldn't be cajoled or threatened. If they stand in front of you, it meant only one thing: kill or be killed.
Rudolph's severed hands regenerated and he clenched his fists. "I don't even know—"
The Prince swallowed his words as Varian's disguise disappeared, revealing a young, handsome face.
The chieftan of this backward tribe! The bastard who dared to refuse his order!
"Y-You! How could you?!" Rudolph's mind went blank and his world view seemed to crash.
"How could I, the ruler of a backward place, be even comparable to you, the noble prince, the favorite of orthodoxy?" Varian's lips curled into a cold smile.
A thought suddenly flashed in his mind and a ridiculous possibility formed in the Prince's mind.
Everything so far—from Baldur coming here, to the envoys finding space cracks, the Zions knowing their presence—it was all the plan of this man.
"You guessed it right," Varian swung arm outward. A brilliant red and green glowed in his palm before materializing into a sword—
Requiem.
Requiem's aura surged and enveloped Rudolph before he could realize what was going on.
