In the rawest sense, Seraphina loathed this man named Efrem Shelon. In fact, to call him a man would be the same as peeling the skin off of her. The despair of chanting hundreds if not thousands of times for the dawn to break as another’s old wrinkly skin rubbed against hers, bony fingers sunk into her flesh, and the powdery medicinal scent nauseated her had been real. Her womb had been carrying his blood, yet on her body had been the old man whom she had addressed as a grandfather. The tears she had spilled, the sobs she choked, the fear she bore, and above everything, the repugnance at her own pathetic self was utterly surrendering.
Seraphina wished for nothing but to rip out the other’s throat, just like how she had Baron Teivel’s heart. However, Efrem Shelon’s life was not hers to take, and this truth, she understood and obliged. Be that as it may, she would not allow these Shelons to run berserk as they had in her previous life. After all, the hunt was not always about the kill. She would herd this deranged father and daughter pair as well as two morally impaired children they have groomed thus far until ‘his’ return.
The sword slicing through your flesh will not be mine. But the chain dragging you to fall will be.
The little girl left her father’s embrace and sauntered toward the inner hall. Her red curls bounced and swayed with her gait, and her overly charming face adorned a hint of friskiness as the ends of her lips curled up faintly. When her tiny stature bypassed the prime minister, the latter’s spine tensed in shivers as a vicious chill ravaged his body. The bloodthirstiness of the child only bore him as a victim.
Seraphina continued marching, bypassing both the prime minister and the imperial elder who held Princess Aine in his arms. When her petite frame brushed past Ezekiel, she did not forget to wink mischievously at her friend. Her small steps were void of hesitation that the many believed her purpose to be the imperial consort who stood at the feet of the high platform where the throne was reposed.
The many also included imperial consort Aynat. As the little girl closed in on her step by step, Aynat’s heart started beating frantically, causing her back to dampen with sweat. She could not tell the cause between the mild insanity she felt at the sight of the child’s golden irises or the intimidation brought by the latter’s still gaze, much like that of a predator.
It did not take long before Seraphina reached the high platform, and as everyone had expected, the little girl indeed halted her steps. However, the place she stood wreaked havoc of confusion and trepidation among the beholders as it was not in front of the imperial consort but next to her at the feet of the high platform.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, the younger facing the throne and the older the audience, Seraphina’s milky sweet voice dropped a chilling belittlement to the woman who was much taller than herself.
“Unworthy,” she whispered before the whole grand hall fell into complete mayhem.
“Guards!” The prime minister’s shrieking command fell as his ferocious glare stuck to a blazing figure of a child who now stood not at the feet of the high platform but on top of it.
The moment Seraphina voiced her conviction to the other, she leaped onto the platform with a single spring. Her movement was sudden, tiny, weightless, and doubtlessly elegant, spectacularly pleasing to the eyes. Unfortunately, as much as her move was worthy of applause, only sharp intakes and horrified yelps welcomed her action.
The high platform was the root of the throne, a place where the noblest in the empire sat. There has never been a female who ascended on it since the foundation of the empire, including the deceased empress, Natalia Heroux, not to mention the imperial consort, Aynat Shelon.
The gates of the hall burst open with armed imperial knights rushing in. When their eyes fell on the short figure standing on the high platform, they unsheathed their swords simultaneously with killing intents nearly tangible to the touch.
A golden aura swirled around before exploding inside the hall. As the lighting-like beastal energies glinted through the air, two humongous beasts, one a winged shadow lion and the other a four-eyed shadow wolf, rose from the shadows of their masters.
“Does the grand duke wish to revolt!” Aynat’s shrill scream emerged within the chaos.
“Shut up! It is not your place to speak,” Ezekiel frowned deeply, torn inside.
As a former emperor, he also believed that Seraphina's action was outrageous, but as he reminded himself that the other was an ancient divine beast, he felt even the throne itself would not outweigh her nobility and might.
“Halt! Sheathe your swords!” The emperor roared, barely swallowing the shock and fury brought by the little girl’s audacity and death-seeking stunt.
The emperor’s command was heaven’s will. However, despite Merrick’s furious bellow, none of the knights followed to do so as some looked over the prime minister in hesitation, and the remaining dared not so in the face of the two shadow beasts.
“Ha!” A self-deprecating snicker left the emperor’s mouth as his light red eyes dyed a hue of indignation.
Merrick rose from his throne as sorrow, humiliation, and wrath brewed in his chest. He looked at the little girl, who stood in front of him, while calmly staring into his eyes.
“You-” his words halted in a daze.
Gasps and whispers erupted inside the imperial grand hall as the little girl adorned in black knelt before the emperor. Her posture was not in line with a lady’s curtsy as she knelt on one knee like a knight. However, her etiquette-confrontational approach did not call for defiance and indignity as she bared her slender neck and bowed her proud head. Respect and submission were evident and much felt from her very being.
“Greetings to the sun of the empire. May the might of the dragon protect the empire,” Seraphina saluted.
In this life, this will be the first and last time I kneel, and I dedicate this honor to you, Merrick Crevaria. For you are the one my father swore loyalty to, for you are the one Natalia gave her heart to, for you are a father to Reyan, Aine, and Nieves, and for you are a man deserving of respect.
She raised her head toward the man, who looked at her in bewilderment. In his light red eyes, which Princess Aine took after flawlessly, Seraphina did not fail to catch something beautiful and bright igniting from a dying ember. Seeing the other’s eyes turning misty and moist, Seraphina questioned in a haughty and playful spirit,
“Your majesty, are you going to keep me kneeling?”
“Rise, rise, child,” the emperor spoke, a chuckle erupting from his throat, concealing the vulnerability that threatened to spill.
“Your majesty! The Callensos are out of their bounds. To let a bastard girl ascend the high platform is the greatest disgrace to have ever befallen the empire.” The prime minister spoke fuming.
What an idiot, Seraphina could not help lamenting as the already restless shadow beasts thundered ear-splitting roars and growls, and their golden energy pulsated even more relentlessly and ferociously. Ratuna’s wings started spreading, whereas Ysir’s hackles rose to a new height, both visually and openly declaring their resistance and aggression towards the words spoken by the old Shelon.
Fear engulfed Efrem despite his unrelenting effort not to. In the midst of the wails of women and the elderly, another smooth milky voice sounded.
“You are wrong. The greatest disgrace is the minister who can mobilize imperial knights and the knights who do not recognize their master,” said Aine, the imperial princess, who was clutching onto her grandfather like a baby monkey in fear of the shadow beasts and their menacing eyes and fangs.
Brilliantly clever child, Seraphina appreciated.
Seraphina descended the platform with an effortless jump at once and ran to her father before opening her arms wide open to the latter with an obvious indication of being held. She beamed at her father, whose golden eyes were stormy with raw danger.
O-oh, don’t tell me I would get the spank I did not get even in my previous life.
The grand duke locked eyes with the instant daughter he had gained less than a week ago, finding no words to describe the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced during the last few days. If it had been another’s child, he would definitely label the pup as a mad beast asking for a beating, but when it came to his daughter, he could not have been prouder than he was at this moment. Though the child dared to defy the customs and lacked a sense of control, at the young age of seven, she could see the greater that lied deep within the emperor and deemed him worthy of such regard. Even his sons failed to do so.
However, the prouder he was more fury the words uttered by Erfem evoked.
“Do you not want me anymore?” The little girl asked dejectedly as her father remained staring at her.
“Nonsense,” replied the man before reaching down and hugging his little treasure in his embrace.
“Are you angry?” Seraphina’s voice was sluggish with uncertainty and a tinge of guilt.
“Yes, I am.”
“At me?”
“What do you think so?”
“Daddy, don’t be angry, ah.” The little girl pouted with bulging cheeks before smacking a slobbery smooch on the grand duke’s chiseled jaw.
Seraphina hid her lovely palm-sized face in the crook of her father’s neck in a fluster after striking a deadly attack on the other. She was embarrassed as well as squeamish from stealing a kiss from the icy man.
“Don’t be angry, daddy. I gave you my first kiss, so you don’t be angry,” she repeated with a muffled voice.
The grand duke felt something inside his chest bursting with sweetness and melting away with bubbles. The previous aggression and the danger lurking beneath his eyes vanished as his daughter’s sneak attack landed squarely on his heart.
A silence permeated the air as the interaction between the two nearly blinded the folk. The men felt jabbing jealousy while the duchesses, marchionesses, and the few countesses within the imperial grand hall were not spared from the sugary aftertaste left by the father and daughter duo. After all, one was the object of every woman’s fantasy while the other was a bundle of devastating courage and beauty and adorableness.
“I am not angry at you. Why would I even be? You did well,” the grand duke found his voice after a while as his bonded beast Ratuna withdrew to his shadow gleefully.
Following his father, Ihan also pulled back his four-eyed wolf dejectedly. The teenager was inevitably hurt by how his little sister only had eyes on their father from the moment she had entered the imperial grand hall. He lowered his eyelashes to hide the gloom in his eyes as Ysir, his bonded shadow beast, howled whimperingly in his consciousness, voicing his grief.
“Your grace. How can such words leave your mouth?” Asked Aynat as tears welled up in her azure eyes.
She could not help the envy and hatred smashing her reason as the never-seen gentleness of the man brought fascination and greed. As the thought of ‘it could have been our daughter’ went through her mind, she felt mad passion tightening in her core.
The grand duke acted deaf to the imperial consort and looked at the prime minister.
“Efrem, there has never been a man who drew a sword on a Callenso and kept his life.” Amaris’s velvety voice, which carried a blunt threat, fell within the hall.
When his deep steady voice sunk through, the flustered imperial knights sheathed their swords in a frenzied manner before dropping to their knees, heads knocking forcefully on the cold marble floor. When they rushed in, they only saw the back of a child whose crimson curls burned their eyes and not the eyes that shone with golden shimmer. If they had known it was Amaris Callenso’s daughter, who in their right minds would have dared?
“Forgive my rudeness, your grace. However, your daughter jumped onto the high platform. It is a sin, which she must be punished for accordingly,” the prime minister refused to back down.
“I did not know that a subject kneeling to a monarch was considered a sin,” Amaris chuckled lowly before continuing,
“You seem to have miscalculated, Efrem. It is my daughter, a child born between I, Amaris Callenso, and the royal princess of the fox clan, Rosaline. The only person in this whole of Crevaria who can receive such an honor from her is the emperor, his majesty Merrick. So, what makes you think that your ‘unworthy’ daughter could stand in front of her bent knee?”
“Amaris!” Aynat’s growly voice dropped.
“Don’t you call my father’s name! Who allowed you to do so? And you, senile old man, I will not bend at the feet of your kind. Nor will I allow a drop of your Shelon’s blood to mix with Callensos’. A betrothal? Dream on!” Seraphina gained her spirit back as Aynat’s way of addressing her father ruffled her feathers tremendously.
She narrowed her eyes at the prime minister, causing her dainty doe eyes to resemble exactly that of a fox.
“You ask for a marriage, but do you know who exactly injured your grandson? And why those knights were slaughtered? Do your homework before you jump like a clown,” her milky voice scorned the old man.
For Efrem to ask for an engagement between brother Ihan and Wyvern instead of me and Reagan means that Reagan, that pathetic bastard, did not tell others it was me who attacked him. From Aynat’s reaction, they were not even aware of my existence because Reagan kept it hidden, and they did not bother to ask their daughter and granddaughter about the incident. It is indeed as I have expected. Reagan’s sense of pride and superiority would not allow others to know that he, a bender and aura wielder, was knocked down by the so-called low life of a beastman. As for my shift inside the forest, even if words were to spread afterward, father’s way of announcing my birth as a female Callenso born from a royal fox beastwoman would block the suspicion. After all, because of Ezekiel’s extermination of the fox clan, humans have miserably limited knowledge about my kin.
“Indeed, she is correct. Your grandson brought his knights to the forest, and the said knights pointed their swords against House Callenso’s only female descendant. If one were to judge the offender, it is Reagan, not heir Ihan,” asserted the imperial elder.
“Even if my house wrongs, it is never your turn to question me, Efrem. My ancestors swore an oath to the dragon and gave our allegiance to the slayer of the dragon. It has none the fuck to do with the Shelons,” enunciated the grand duke as he raised a hand toward the man who dared to call his blood and flesh a bastard and disgrace, and his slender yet prominent fingers snapped.
From his fingers shot, the thinnest arrow manifested from the pure golden aura, and the wretched scream of an old man followed. The flow of the movement of his golden aura was spectacular and overbearing as it burst forth like lightning, shimmering and volant. It was very much like its owner. As it landed on Efrem’s wrinkly loud mouth, it spread through the other’s lower face, slashing and tearing his skin open.
The moaning man knelt on the ground as his hands tremblingly reached toward his face but not daring to touch the wound. As blood and clot dripped from his face, two deep glaring slashes stretched from the corners of his lips to his sideburns. Surely, the pitiful man was groaning in pain with tears washing over his face and mixing with his blood, but the image of a crazed madman laughing bloomed on his face due to the position of his wounds. Just like the crimson-headed child called him such, he became a bloody clown.
In the rawest sense, Seraphina loathed this man named Efrem Shelon. In fact, to call him a man would be the same as peeling the skin off of her. The despair of chanting hundreds if not thousands of times for the dawn to break as another’s old wrinkly skin rubbed against hers, bony fingers sunk into her flesh, and the powdery medicinal scent nauseated her had been real. Her womb had been carrying his blood, yet on her body had been the old man whom she had addressed as a grandfather. The tears she had spilled, the sobs she choked, the fear she bore, and above everything, the repugnance at her own pathetic self was utterly surrendering.
Seraphina wished for nothing but to rip out the other’s throat, just like how she had Baron Teivel’s heart. However, Efrem Shelon’s life was not hers to take, and this truth, she understood and obliged. Be that as it may, she would not allow these Shelons to run berserk as they had in her previous life. After all, the hunt was not always about the kill. She would herd this deranged father and daughter pair as well as two morally impaired children they have groomed thus far until ‘his’ return.
The sword slicing through your flesh will not be mine. But the chain dragging you to fall will be.
The little girl left her father’s embrace and sauntered toward the inner hall. Her red curls bounced and swayed with her gait, and her overly charming face adorned a hint of friskiness as the ends of her lips curled up faintly. When her tiny stature bypassed the prime minister, the latter’s spine tensed in shivers as a vicious chill ravaged his body. The bloodthirstiness of the child only bore him as a victim.
Seraphina continued marching, bypassing both the prime minister and the imperial elder who held Princess Aine in his arms. When her petite frame brushed past Ezekiel, she did not forget to wink mischievously at her friend. Her small steps were void of hesitation that the many believed her purpose to be the imperial consort who stood at the feet of the high platform where the throne was reposed.
The many also included imperial consort Aynat. As the little girl closed in on her step by step, Aynat’s heart started beating frantically, causing her back to dampen with sweat. She could not tell the cause between the mild insanity she felt at the sight of the child’s golden irises or the intimidation brought by the latter’s still gaze, much like that of a predator.
It did not take long before Seraphina reached the high platform, and as everyone had expected, the little girl indeed halted her steps. However, the place she stood wreaked havoc of confusion and trepidation among the beholders as it was not in front of the imperial consort but next to her at the feet of the high platform.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, the younger facing the throne and the older the audience, Seraphina’s milky sweet voice dropped a chilling belittlement to the woman who was much taller than herself.
“Unworthy,” she whispered before the whole grand hall fell into complete mayhem.
“Guards!” The prime minister’s shrieking command fell as his ferocious glare stuck to a blazing figure of a child who now stood not at the feet of the high platform but on top of it.
The moment Seraphina voiced her conviction to the other, she leaped onto the platform with a single spring. Her movement was sudden, tiny, weightless, and doubtlessly elegant, spectacularly pleasing to the eyes. Unfortunately, as much as her move was worthy of applause, only sharp intakes and horrified yelps welcomed her action.
The high platform was the root of the throne, a place where the noblest in the empire sat. There has never been a female who ascended on it since the foundation of the empire, including the deceased empress, Natalia Heroux, not to mention the imperial consort, Aynat Shelon.
The gates of the hall burst open with armed imperial knights rushing in. When their eyes fell on the short figure standing on the high platform, they unsheathed their swords simultaneously with killing intents nearly tangible to the touch.
A golden aura swirled around before exploding inside the hall. As the lighting-like beastal energies glinted through the air, two humongous beasts, one a winged shadow lion and the other a four-eyed shadow wolf, rose from the shadows of their masters.
“Does the grand duke wish to revolt!” Aynat’s shrill scream emerged within the chaos.
“Shut up! It is not your place to speak,” Ezekiel frowned deeply, torn inside.
As a former emperor, he also believed that Seraphina's action was outrageous, but as he reminded himself that the other was an ancient divine beast, he felt even the throne itself would not outweigh her nobility and might.
“Halt! Sheathe your swords!” The emperor roared, barely swallowing the shock and fury brought by the little girl’s audacity and death-seeking stunt.
The emperor’s command was heaven’s will. However, despite Merrick’s furious bellow, none of the knights followed to do so as some looked over the prime minister in hesitation, and the remaining dared not so in the face of the two shadow beasts.
“Ha!” A self-deprecating snicker left the emperor’s mouth as his light red eyes dyed a hue of indignation.
Merrick rose from his throne as sorrow, humiliation, and wrath brewed in his chest. He looked at the little girl, who stood in front of him, while calmly staring into his eyes.
“You-” his words halted in a daze.
Gasps and whispers erupted inside the imperial grand hall as the little girl adorned in black knelt before the emperor. Her posture was not in line with a lady’s curtsy as she knelt on one knee like a knight. However, her etiquette-confrontational approach did not call for defiance and indignity as she bared her slender neck and bowed her proud head. Respect and submission were evident and much felt from her very being.
“Greetings to the sun of the empire. May the might of the dragon protect the empire,” Seraphina saluted.
In this life, this will be the first and last time I kneel, and I dedicate this honor to you, Merrick Crevaria. For you are the one my father swore loyalty to, for you are the one Natalia gave her heart to, for you are a father to Reyan, Aine, and Nieves, and for you are a man deserving of respect.
She raised her head toward the man, who looked at her in bewilderment. In his light red eyes, which Princess Aine took after flawlessly, Seraphina did not fail to catch something beautiful and bright igniting from a dying ember. Seeing the other’s eyes turning misty and moist, Seraphina questioned in a haughty and playful spirit,
“Your majesty, are you going to keep me kneeling?”
“Rise, rise, child,” the emperor spoke, a chuckle erupting from his throat, concealing the vulnerability that threatened to spill.
“Your majesty! The Callensos are out of their bounds. To let a bastard girl ascend the high platform is the greatest disgrace to have ever befallen the empire.” The prime minister spoke fuming.
What an idiot, Seraphina could not help lamenting as the already restless shadow beasts thundered ear-splitting roars and growls, and their golden energy pulsated even more relentlessly and ferociously. Ratuna’s wings started spreading, whereas Ysir’s hackles rose to a new height, both visually and openly declaring their resistance and aggression towards the words spoken by the old Shelon.
Fear engulfed Efrem despite his unrelenting effort not to. In the midst of the wails of women and the elderly, another smooth milky voice sounded.
“You are wrong. The greatest disgrace is the minister who can mobilize imperial knights and the knights who do not recognize their master,” said Aine, the imperial princess, who was clutching onto her grandfather like a baby monkey in fear of the shadow beasts and their menacing eyes and fangs.
Brilliantly clever child, Seraphina appreciated.
Seraphina descended the platform with an effortless jump at once and ran to her father before opening her arms wide open to the latter with an obvious indication of being held. She beamed at her father, whose golden eyes were stormy with raw danger.
O-oh, don’t tell me I would get the spank I did not get even in my previous life.
The grand duke locked eyes with the instant daughter he had gained less than a week ago, finding no words to describe the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced during the last few days. If it had been another’s child, he would definitely label the pup as a mad beast asking for a beating, but when it came to his daughter, he could not have been prouder than he was at this moment. Though the child dared to defy the customs and lacked a sense of control, at the young age of seven, she could see the greater that lied deep within the emperor and deemed him worthy of such regard. Even his sons failed to do so.
However, the prouder he was more fury the words uttered by Erfem evoked.
“Do you not want me anymore?” The little girl asked dejectedly as her father remained staring at her.
“Nonsense,” replied the man before reaching down and hugging his little treasure in his embrace.
“Are you angry?” Seraphina’s voice was sluggish with uncertainty and a tinge of guilt.
“Yes, I am.”
“At me?”
“What do you think so?”
“Daddy, don’t be angry, ah.” The little girl pouted with bulging cheeks before smacking a slobbery smooch on the grand duke’s chiseled jaw.
Seraphina hid her lovely palm-sized face in the crook of her father’s neck in a fluster after striking a deadly attack on the other. She was embarrassed as well as squeamish from stealing a kiss from the icy man.
“Don’t be angry, daddy. I gave you my first kiss, so you don’t be angry,” she repeated with a muffled voice.
The grand duke felt something inside his chest bursting with sweetness and melting away with bubbles. The previous aggression and the danger lurking beneath his eyes vanished as his daughter’s sneak attack landed squarely on his heart.
A silence permeated the air as the interaction between the two nearly blinded the folk. The men felt jabbing jealousy while the duchesses, marchionesses, and the few countesses within the imperial grand hall were not spared from the sugary aftertaste left by the father and daughter duo. After all, one was the object of every woman’s fantasy while the other was a bundle of devastating courage and beauty and adorableness.
“I am not angry at you. Why would I even be? You did well,” the grand duke found his voice after a while as his bonded beast Ratuna withdrew to his shadow gleefully.
Following his father, Ihan also pulled back his four-eyed wolf dejectedly. The teenager was inevitably hurt by how his little sister only had eyes on their father from the moment she had entered the imperial grand hall. He lowered his eyelashes to hide the gloom in his eyes as Ysir, his bonded shadow beast, howled whimperingly in his consciousness, voicing his grief.
“Your grace. How can such words leave your mouth?” Asked Aynat as tears welled up in her azure eyes.
She could not help the envy and hatred smashing her reason as the never-seen gentleness of the man brought fascination and greed. As the thought of ‘it could have been our daughter’ went through her mind, she felt mad passion tightening in her core.
The grand duke acted deaf to the imperial consort and looked at the prime minister.
“Efrem, there has never been a man who drew a sword on a Callenso and kept his life.” Amaris’s velvety voice, which carried a blunt threat, fell within the hall.
When his deep steady voice sunk through, the flustered imperial knights sheathed their swords in a frenzied manner before dropping to their knees, heads knocking forcefully on the cold marble floor. When they rushed in, they only saw the back of a child whose crimson curls burned their eyes and not the eyes that shone with golden shimmer. If they had known it was Amaris Callenso’s daughter, who in their right minds would have dared?
“Forgive my rudeness, your grace. However, your daughter jumped onto the high platform. It is a sin, which she must be punished for accordingly,” the prime minister refused to back down.
“I did not know that a subject kneeling to a monarch was considered a sin,” Amaris chuckled lowly before continuing,
“You seem to have miscalculated, Efrem. It is my daughter, a child born between I, Amaris Callenso, and the royal princess of the fox clan, Rosaline. The only person in this whole of Crevaria who can receive such an honor from her is the emperor, his majesty Merrick. So, what makes you think that your ‘unworthy’ daughter could stand in front of her bent knee?”
“Amaris!” Aynat’s growly voice dropped.
“Don’t you call my father’s name! Who allowed you to do so? And you, senile old man, I will not bend at the feet of your kind. Nor will I allow a drop of your Shelon’s blood to mix with Callensos’. A betrothal? Dream on!” Seraphina gained her spirit back as Aynat’s way of addressing her father ruffled her feathers tremendously.
She narrowed her eyes at the prime minister, causing her dainty doe eyes to resemble exactly that of a fox.
“You ask for a marriage, but do you know who exactly injured your grandson? And why those knights were slaughtered? Do your homework before you jump like a clown,” her milky voice scorned the old man.
For Efrem to ask for an engagement between brother Ihan and Wyvern instead of me and Reagan means that Reagan, that pathetic bastard, did not tell others it was me who attacked him. From Aynat’s reaction, they were not even aware of my existence because Reagan kept it hidden, and they did not bother to ask their daughter and granddaughter about the incident. It is indeed as I have expected. Reagan’s sense of pride and superiority would not allow others to know that he, a bender and aura wielder, was knocked down by the so-called low life of a beastman. As for my shift inside the forest, even if words were to spread afterward, father’s way of announcing my birth as a female Callenso born from a royal fox beastwoman would block the suspicion. After all, because of Ezekiel’s extermination of the fox clan, humans have miserably limited knowledge about my kin.
“Indeed, she is correct. Your grandson brought his knights to the forest, and the said knights pointed their swords against House Callenso’s only female descendant. If one were to judge the offender, it is Reagan, not heir Ihan,” asserted the imperial elder.
“Even if my house wrongs, it is never your turn to question me, Efrem. My ancestors swore an oath to the dragon and gave our allegiance to the slayer of the dragon. It has none the fuck to do with the Shelons,” enunciated the grand duke as he raised a hand toward the man who dared to call his blood and flesh a bastard and disgrace, and his slender yet prominent fingers snapped.
From his fingers shot, the thinnest arrow manifested from the pure golden aura, and the wretched scream of an old man followed. The flow of the movement of his golden aura was spectacular and overbearing as it burst forth like lightning, shimmering and volant. It was very much like its owner. As it landed on Efrem’s wrinkly loud mouth, it spread through the other’s lower face, slashing and tearing his skin open.
The moaning man knelt on the ground as his hands tremblingly reached toward his face but not daring to touch the wound. As blood and clot dripped from his face, two deep glaring slashes stretched from the corners of his lips to his sideburns. Surely, the pitiful man was groaning in pain with tears washing over his face and mixing with his blood, but the image of a crazed madman laughing bloomed on his face due to the position of his wounds. Just like the crimson-headed child called him such, he became a bloody clown.
