415: || Chapter 404 || A Crack In The Depths

|| Chapter 404 || A Crack In The Depths

Whispers surrounded a group of young busy humans while they glanced back at the slender figure behind them. They are servants, freshly plucked from the promising groups recommended this month. Their eyes are bright and curious. Faint blushes painted their cheeks as they murmured in admiration. They've heard rumors but, truly, nothing could compare to the real thing. The object of their awe, however, remained oblivious and uncaring.

Suddenly, one of them yelped in surprise as a white round thing frightfully scurried past her ankles. Her friends jumped in fright as the furry animal ran past them, charging toward the elegant young man. 

Soft clicks from his half-inch shoes resounded within the hallways. A tall man, with billowing curls of silvery hair, expressionlessly kept his gaze ahead. A worrying crease remained on his forehead as his thoughts clouded his mind. Not even the playful little snow-white fox could distract him. Snow huffed, sulking, but his speed didn't waver. 

It was a few minutes ago when Moulin felt an odd feeling stretch painfully inside his chest and the bothersome bitter feeling rose the more he thought of Hadrian. 

'Am I being paranoid?' His brows deepened.

No, thinking too much wouldn't help him. He should just hurry and check Hadrian. The urge to see the man grew heavier and he quickened his steps. 

.....

The assembly hall was an elegant vast area. A large dome crowned the ceiling, supported by several thick pillars. Each was decorated with complex runes to keep unwanted people, and spies from hearing the meeting. It was a crucial place where every prominent figure in Helios would contribute to the betterment of the city. 

However, despite the warmth and elegance of the hall, spiteful words were often shared, and growing tensions began underneath the high ceiling. 

The feared Lord, High Lord Hercullio sat in his iron seat, cold and silent after finalizing the fierce negotiations between several Lords and the Grekellian Merchant Lord, Fridal Hyantor. There was one newly appointed Lord who was too arrogant to fully cooperate. The new Lord of Sairen, the renowned merfolk clan which gained a seat in the assembly years ago, was young and ignorant of the rules and the flow of the assembly despite his father's persistent teachings. Lord Hadrian's calm expression effectively hid the bubbling darkness within. 

The events that followed ran smoothly and properly as they should be. Everyone felt anxious yet satisfied while they occasionally glanced at the High Lord's calm expression. 

However, only one man was far from pleased by the proceedings.

"Tch..." 

Several eyes turned to the source of the mocking sound. Lord Hyantor raised his brows in interest as he swirled a goblet of wine in his hand. The Sairen Lord wasn't perturbed at all by the attention. Hah, these old folk ought to retire as soon as possible. 

Varick's eye twitched as he forced himself to keep calm. He glanced at Lord Hadrian's serious expression before returning his attention to the fool sitting five seats away from him.

"Lord, Fermaigne. Do have more to speak for the assembly?"

Lord Fermaigne proudly raised his chin and leaned back, severely staring at the prominent man in the iron seat. 

"I've heard we've found no progress in the investigations of the cultists running rampant in our city?"

Varick frowned and turned to Lord Maxille. The man's steel grey eyes bore into Fermaigne's thick skull. He replied. "Investigations 'are' progressing. However, the various groups sent for investigations haven't all submitted results. Days will take to accomplish analysis and acquired-"

"Bah, progress or no! Do we even have to know why these worms have emerged from the earth?"  He raised his hands with a scoff. He eyed every single person in the room. 

Like the others, Hadrian's silently gazed at the loud man.

Varick cursed in his mind and raised his voice, "Lord Fermaigne! This is no-"

"It's because we've foolishly exposed ourselves to foreigners for years. Like rotting meat to a swarm of flies!" The lord declared with a bang of his fist. 

He did not stop there and fearlessly looked straight into the High Lord's intimidating eyes. 

"Heaven knows how many wicked people have desired our city? How they yearned for our fall to scavenge our lands and resources. Those gates should've stayed closed in the beginning and we should have banned these so-called survivors from our walls years ago!"

His outrage was tender and foolish. Many averted their gazes. However, it did not stop a few from eagerly listening. 

Seething, Lord Fermaigne continued and raised his chin. "Under those unruly facades are envious, selfish, fiendish souls who prey on our people. Look at what is happening. Demonic worshippers, cults, madmen, and beasts running rampant in the streets! Our city is infested with parasites, concealed amongst the young and the old. If they accomplish finishing us all under our noses, who should be held accountable for it?"

This time murmurs gradually rose. The truth in his words was unpredictable. However, the possibility stood. Still, it was too...

Lord Fermaigne seemed satisfied in seeing the confused and anxious looks surrounding the table. 

Fool. Lord Hyantor inwardly scoffed at the man's words. His selfish words were disguised as a caution for the betterment of the city, so he could sue discord in the hearts of these nobles. Did he really think this table was a place to gather allies and strengthen his reputation? He must be insane to provoke the wolf in his den.

And he thought this group of old folks has somehow grown interesting but the mere presence of this ignorant man only lowered his expectations. 

"Fermaigne..." A cruel voice crashed into the new Lord's victorious reverie.

Fermaigne jerked as he snapped his gaze to the man sitting at the center of the table. 

Lord Hercullio slowly spoke. Every word was as heavy as a rock falling into quiet, still, waters. "You are not the first to play games on this table. Perhaps, you are famished... for disdain and shame."

Which, I will gladly force down your throat...

He didn't need to finish his words for Fermaigne to understand what he meant. The young lord felt crushed under those deep ferocious golden eyes. He struggled to keep his head high, forcing himself away from intimidation. 

"C-Can't your Excellency agree to the bit of possibility?" Fermaigne slightly cowed but remained strong to his resolve. 

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. Varick decided to remain silent, signaling Forg to be alert for any accidents. Lord Hadrian was going to talk for the longest time in a single meeting. It wasn't a good sign. Even the other Lords have noticed. 

The High Lord raised his face, unperturbed by bothersome curious gazes. "The gates will welcome and receive every desperate soul in this forsaken land. Perhaps, we may have blindly given entrance to people with ungrateful and fiendish intents. They could worm their way into our homes or be enlightened by darkness and cruelty. However, evil will never be undefeated. As long as a protector stands."

"All those selfish fools can hide as long as they want." His voice dug deeply into their minds. 

When his eyes fell on the crowd, they glowed with unspeakable intent. A deep thriving fire to scorch the land. Magnificent, holy, and terrifying.

"They don't know what god watches them."

Fermaigne's eyes twitched as cold sweat dripped from his forehead. He hesitantly shifts his gaze from the soul-crushing gaze on his frame. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and was silent as the dead of night. 

A few of the guilty men and women averted their eyes while the rest respectfully gazed upon the man on the elegant iron chair. His golden eyes reflected their reverence, fueled by his words. The fear and dominance he brought upon his subjects remained.

Varick secretly sighed. In the corner of his eyes, he watched as Fermaigne's pale countenance morphed into humiliation. Rage simmered in the depths of his eyes but he kept his silence. He was not stupid enough to keep striking while the people, although secretly, were shifting their trust to the High Lord's words. So like a scolded child, he shut his mouth and frowned all until the assembly was dismissed. 

"My Lord, I will see to it that these issues will be solved as soon as possible." Maxille bowed his head. 

Hadrian only gave a nod and walked past him with Varick, following carefully behind his back. Once the High Lord leaves, it was a cue to vacate the hall. The men and women slowly rose from their seats and unhurriedly headed to the doors. 

Fortunately, the meeting ended well. It went more smoothly than Varick thought it would be. The man's eyes narrowed slightly as he recalled Lord Fermaigne's irritable attitude. However, he remained cooperative despite his poor attempts to reveal his disdain to the lords. Hopefully, he would be quiet as a mute in the next assembly gathering. Otherwise, it won't be Lord Hadrian's words cutting him down before the lords. 

Varick raised his gaze to the prominent back of Lord Hadrian as they crossed the threshold of the assembly hall's adjoining room The long thick cape, dark as the night, swayed with every step he took. Golden hair like strands of dew from Corahn's powerful sun. He looked like someone who wasn't supposed to stay in the mortal world but a being far greater. 

Varick wrinkled his brows. 

Lately, he'd noticed the perturbing strangeness of the Lord's mood. A dark cloud surrounded Lord Hadrian. Varick was certain that some people might have noticed it too. Even Lord Hendrick, the High Lord's grandfather, always gave his grandson a suspicious look every time they met. Now, they were wary of a beast silently enduring its hunger for flesh and blood. But with a single mention of the youngest master of the Fraunces Family, he was as tame as a loyal wolf. It was obvious what his bottom line was. 

Varick kept his doubts in his heart as he finished dealing with the scribes and followed Lord Hadrian out of the room. They headed to the hallways where, unsurprisingly, a small group of people waited for their arrival. Their greetings were as cautious as ever. 

But in the distance, a familiar infuriated voice coldly reached their ears. 

"It's because of that aphrodite, I'm sure of it." 

Fermaigne was with two lords, muttering, not as silently as they thought they were. 

Varick paled as Lord Hadrian stopped midstep. They could talk about anything they want but they had to do something that Varick feared the most to happen. 

"Like a lovesick dog, if you ask me. One taste of that meat and he's gone crazy. That aphrodite must really be worth his time. Haha, like pairing a rabid dog with a rabid bitch. Maybe he doesn't know it yet."

"Know what?"

Varick's blood froze. He turned towards them but his legs fell weak and the air felt like needles prickling his throat. The pressure was so heavy that they found it extremely difficult to breathe. 

Oblivious of the strangeness from the distance, Fermaigne chuckled darkly, 

He replied. "That the aphrodite is only as good as the rest of his kind. An aphrodite's worth is his womb. Pretending to be so strong but in the end, he'll end up having a bulging belly."2

He laughed, "Too weak to overpower a man! You see, it's in his nature. He'll wind up with his legs spread, panting for a good mounting-"

A sharp blow slammed against his back! 

Crack! 

Fermaigne fell on his stomach as the force displaced him a few feet away from where he stood. His head banged the floor so hard, the skin broke and red splashed the smooth floor. The whole world was spinning and the ringing in his ears was so loud, he was deaf to the noises around him. 

The sound was so startling, the commotion attracted the attention of the nearby people. However, once sensing the appalling force of energy they scampered away. 

Varick finally regained some energy and forcibly shouted, "My Lord, please calm down!"

The man slowly making his way towards Fermaigne with his sword drawn ignored every word, every noise around him. His eyes are terrifying. The cords on his neck tightened, veins bulging as he walked. He is bringing death with him. With this blade, he will silence this blabbering wretch forever. 

The voices in his head bloomed in fruition. Exhilaration from freedom. Under his skin, the dark snake slithered up his neck, branching out and evolving. 

Fermaigne is like a wounded rat caught in a trap. He desperately scrambled away as the beast drew close to him. Blood filled his vision and fear had him shivering in dread. "F-F-Forgive... Forgi-"

The sword's edge glinted as it was raised, pointing at his face. Fermaigne's breath was stuck in his throat. No one else could see what he was currently facing. 

Those fair golden eyes were gone, replaced by swirling pools of imminent darkness. The beast was silent but his eyes were calling out. 

'Hurry and beg for your life...' the nonexistent cackle that followed made him freeze in fear. This was no ruler but a dragon ensuing chaos and fear. 

"What is with the noise?"Lord Hendrick, who was just passing by, questioned as the crowd hurriedly parted for him. 

When he finally witnessed the dreadful scene, he stood, shocked, before hurriedly shouting. "Hadrian! Spare him."

The High Lord did not heed. He would never.

"M-My Lord..." Fermaigne feared moving and could only stutter a plea. 

Someone! Save him!

...

Soft footsteps stopped on the opposite side of the hallway. It took several seconds for the rest to notice his arrival. 

Silver eyes quietly gazed at the man and the one lying under the point of his sword. 

"Hadrian..."

As though the spell upon him collapsed, the High Lord's consciousness returned. Slowly, he pulled away and threw a merciless glance at the bleeding man on the floor. Moulin's figure was reflected in his eyes as he stood facing the youth. 

Without hesitation, Moulin approached Hadrian hesitantly glancing at Fermaigne's situation. 

"Don't look at him." 

The deep commanding voice instantly snatched Moulin's attention back. A warm hand lovingly caressed the curve of his cheek. Moulin would have thought that Hadrian was doting on him again if it weren't for the injured noble shivering in fear near them. 

With the cooperation of the other lords, the scene was quickly cleaned up. Moulin trusted Varick and Lord Hendrick would take care of the rest while he brought Hadrian away from the mess. He didn't know how much today's event would affect Hadrian's reputation in the future but he was certain people would talk. Countless ripples disrupted the calm water. 

When they entered the room, Moulin whispered a couple of things to the servant who quietly left the room. Then with furrowed brows, the silver-eyed young man turned to the man. 

"What happened-"

Suddenly, warm lips sealed his mouth in a deep hungry kiss.

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