I didn't think there could be anyone more brutal or merciless than me.
Until today.
That witch put even me to shame.
I should have realized it back at the auction hall, when she tore through people without hesitation. At that time, I thought that was excessive.
Now?
That felt tame compared to the grotesque aftermath we were walking through.
The deeper we went into the north wing, the worse it became.
Bodies littered every corridor.
Walls stained dark with blood. Limbs twisted unnaturally. Some guards looked like they had barely understood what killed them before it happened. Others…
Others had clearly suffered.
There wasn't a single hallway untouched. Not one corridor that hadn't been painted red.
I found myself wondering—
Just how far can she go? Where exactly did someone like her draw the line?
Or perhaps…
She simply didn't have one.
"I shouldn't have let her go alone," Nox sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. His voice dropped into something halfway between exhaustion and resignation. "I knew it was only a matter of time before that blood-crazed demon realized this was basically a banquet made for her."
What is he talking about?
A banquet for her.
I glanced at him, unsure whether he was exaggerating or serious.
Then—
The entire building trembled.
For a brief second, everything went dark.
Mana surged outward thick, suffocating, oppressive enough to make even the air feel heavier.
I stopped instinctively.
"What was that?"
Nox's expression shifted.
"That," he said quietly, "was Lia getting serious."
He looked toward the source of the disturbance.
"It's her barrier. If she's using it…" His tone darkened. "Then the enemy is dangerous."
I stared at him.
Wait, You're telling me she wasn't serious before?
Everything we had seen. The destruction. The bodies.
The sheer brutality.
That had just been her holding back?
Just how strong was she?
A dangerous thought crossed my mind.
I want to fight her.
Once.
At her absolute strongest.
Not out of pride.
Not even rivalry.
Just to see where the limit of someone like her actually existed.
If one existed at all.
We reached the chamber in barely two minutes.
The moment I slammed the door open—
Someone crashed violently into the wall.
Hard enough to crack stone.
"Lia!" Nox shouted.
For a second, I froze.
She was strong, terrifyingly so. So how had she been reduced to this?
Blood stained her clothes, her breathing uneven, her body barely holding itself upright.
And yet—
Her eyes were still sharp.
Still dangerous.
"Asier!"
The voice snapped my attention away.
"Renna," I said quickly, crouching in front of her. "Are you hurt? Anywhere?"
I checked her over instinctively, relief settling in my chest when I found no injuries.
She shook her head, then started crying harder.
"Asier…" she sniffled, clutching my sleeve. "Big sister got hurt protecting me."
I glanced back at her as she drank the potion trying to recover for a moment.
"She'll be fine," I said, forcing confidence into my voice. "A stubborn bull like her doesn't go down that easily."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
Why did I say something like that? And why am I reassuring Renna about her?
"Hey," Cecilia said, her voice rough but cold. "Vermin."
I looked over.
"Switch with me."
Her scythe shifted slightly in her grip, shadows curling around it like something alive.
"Keep him occupied," she said. "I'm getting Tia out of that magic circle."
But it wasn't just her words.
Her eyes—They carried something far heavier.
Coldly Focused and Dead serious.
I sighed quietly.
I suppose helping her this once wouldn't kill me.
"Don't kill him," she added, her voice lowering dangerously. "He's mine."
A faint, unsettling smile crossed her face.
"I'm going to make that pervert regret this."
I frowned.
"You know him?"
Nox sighed from beside her.
"They've got history."
That explained more than I wanted it to.
I rolled my shoulders and stepped forward, "Fine," I said, fixing my gaze on the man across the room.
"I'll go easy on him."
I glanced over my shoulder briefly.
"You better get Tia out before I'm done with him."
The man standing across from me let out a low chuckle, wiping the blood at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression twisted into something between amusement and insult.
"Go easy on me?" he echoed, his voice rough.
A sharp crack echoed through the room.
He vanished.
Instinct moved faster than thought.
I tilted my head just enough—
A fist tore through the air beside my face, violent enough that the force alone sent strands of hair shifting.
Fast.
I twisted on my heel and drove my elbow backwards.
He caught it.
Our arms locked for a split second before his knee shot toward my ribs.
I shifted, letting it graze instead of land cleanly, then slammed my palm into his chest.
The impact cracked through the room.
He skidded back several feet, boots scraping hard against the floor before he caught himself.
His grin widened.
"There we go."
The floor beneath him fractured.
He lunged again.
This time he didn't aim to test me.
His fist came down like a hammer.
I caught it.
The shockwave rippled beneath our feet, splintering stone outward.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he smiled.
I hated that smile it was as if he'd found something entertaining.
He twisted suddenly, forcing my stance open before driving his elbow toward my jaw.
It landed.
My head snapped to the side.
The metallic taste of blood spread faintly across my tongue.
I laughed once under my breath.
Slowly, I turned my head back toward him.
"Oh."
I wiped the blood from my lip with my thumb.
"So that's how we're doing this."
He swung again.
I stepped inside his guard.
My fist slammed into his stomach.
The sound that left him was sharp—
Not pain.
Shock.
His body folded for half a second before I grabbed him by the collar and drove my knee into his ribs hard enough to send him crashing across the room.
Wood shattered.
Dust rose.
Before it could settle—
He was already back in front of me.
A fist collided with my side.
Then another.
And another.
Fast.
Too fast.
The last strike landed square against my chest—
The force sent me skidding backwards.
I planted my foot hard against the floor to stop myself.
Something warm slid down the corner of my mouth.
Blood.
I looked at it.
Then back at him.
"…Not bad."
He moved first again.
A blur.
I met him halfway.
The impact of our clash cracked through the chamber as fists collided, bodies weaving in brutal rhythm strike after strike, neither yielding an inch.
His elbow cut toward my temple.
I ducked and drove a punch into his ribs.
He retaliated instantly, slamming his knee upward.
I caught it with my forearm—
Too late.
The follow-up fist crashed into my stomach.
Air left my lungs.
A violent cough tore from my throat—
Blood splattered against the floor.
For the briefest moment, the room stilled.
The man blinked and laughed.
"There it is," he said, breathing hard. "Thought you'd finally crack."
I straightened slowly.
One hand wiped the blood from my mouth. The other flexed at my side.
My gaze lifted to meet his.
Cold.
Unmoving.
"You talk too much."
I took a step forward.
I can see why she was reduced to that state, I muttered rolling my shoulder once as the ache settled deeper into the muscle.
I spat blood to the side.
On top of that…
My gaze narrowed on him.
He's annoying.
A slow breath left me.
"I was planning to half-ass this fight."
The corner of my mouth twitched downward.
"Seems like I can't do that now."
He grinned.
"Finally taking me serio—"
I disappeared.
His expression shifted—
Too slow.
My fist slammed into his face hard enough to cave the floor beneath his feet.
The crack of impact thundered through the chamber.
He crashed through broken stone, skidding violently before forcing himself upright.
I was already there.
A kick to his ribs.
A punch to the throat.
My elbow came down next—
He blocked barely in time, the force still driving him to one knee.
The grin had vanished. It was infuriating.
He wiped blood from his mouth and exhaled sharply.
"Now that's more like it."
His mana surged.
The room trembled.
Cracks spread across the ground beneath us.
Then—
He rushed forward.
Fast enough to distort.
A barrage followed instantly.
Punches.
Elbows.
Knees.
No pause.
No opening.
I blocked one strike, sidestepped another, but the third clipped my shoulder hard enough to throw me off balance.
His fist crashed into my ribs.
Then another.
The last one slammed into my chest—
I slid back.
Stone screamed beneath my boots.
Tch.
Annoying.
He came again.
I raised my arm—
Then stopped.
Not Enough.
The sound of metal sliding free cut through the room.
My sword gleamed faintly in the fractured light.
For the first time—
His expression changed.
"…A sword?" he muttered.
"You should feel honoured," I said flatly.
"I usually don't bother."
He lunged.
Steel met flesh.
Or at least—
That was the intent.
He twisted at the last second, my blade carving across his side instead of through him.
Blood splattered.
His counterattack came instantly—
A fist aimed for my jaw.
I tilted away and slashed upward.
He jumped back.
The rhythm shifted.
Faster now.
Sharper.
His strikes came brutal and relentless—
Mine precise.
Every clash echoed through the chamber.
Steel rang.
Stones shattering.
He closed the distance—
I cut low.
He leapt over it.
His heel crashed toward my head—
I caught the strike with my blade.
The force split the ground beneath me.
We locked there for a moment.
Pressure against pressure.
Neither yielding.
Then—
A sound.
A cough.
Wet.
Sharp.
My eyes flickered instinctively.
Across the chamber—
Cecilia.
Blood spilt from her lips as she staggered.
The circle around her—
Cracked.
Shattered.
My expression darkened instantly.
The man in front of me moved the second my attention shifted.
A punch drove into my side.
Another toward my face.
I blocked one and took the other.
Pain flared.
It didn't matter.
I forced him back with a slash brutal enough to split the floor between us.
My grip tightened around the hilt.
I could feel it now.
The shift in the air.
He smirked, breathing hard.
"Looking away in a fight?" he mocked. "It's a Bad habit."
I stepped forward.
Cold.
Silent.
"You picked the wrong moment to irritate me."
He attacked again.
I didn't dodge.
Steel flashed.
Once.
His expression froze.
For a second—
Nothing happened.
Then blood spilt from the clean cut across his torso.
His body staggered.
Disbelief crossed his face.
I moved before he could recover.
The hilt of my sword slammed into his jaw.
He hit the ground hard.
I grabbed him by the collar before he could rise and drove him through the fractured stone.
The chamber shook violently.
Again.
And again.
Until he stopped moving.
I rushed toward Tia, dropping to one knee beside her unconscious form.
She looked far too pale but she was breathing.
That was enough. The rest didn't matter.
I could heal injuries. I could fix damage.
As long as she was alive—Nothing else mattered.
Carefully, I adjusted her against me, brushing blood-matted strands of hair away from her face as I checked for anything immediately life-threatening. Bruised. Exhausted. Far too injured for my liking.
But alive.
Movement nearby pulled my attention away.
Cecilia had pushed herself upright.
Unsteady, but kneeling.
Blood still stained the corner of her lips, though somehow she looked more irritated than injured.
"You okay?" I asked.
The words left my mouth almost automatically.
A formality.
One I probably shouldn't have bothered with. Judging by the way both of them froze.
She blinked.
Her underling looked outright shocked..
"Wow," Cecilia said slowly, wiping blood from her mouth. "I genuinely didn't think you were capable of asking someone that."
She tilted her head slightly, eyeing me as I'd suddenly grown another limb.
"I'm surprised."
I ignored the comment.
"Take the kids and wait outside," she said, rising to her feet.
My gaze shifted briefly toward the ruined side of the chamber.
"I'll be done with him soon."
She nodded once toward Nox. "He'll keep you safe."
I frowned immediately.
"The hell are you talking about?" I said flatly. "He's dead."
She adjusted her grip on her scythe without looking back.
"Check again."
The room went quiet for half a second.
Then she added, colder this time—
"He's playing dead."
A beat of silence passed.
She rolled her shoulder with a grimace, then cracked her neck slowly.
"Get up, you bastard," she muttered, exhaustion clear in her voice despite the irritation. "I'm way too tired for your charades."
The silence did not last.
A low sound echoed through the ruined chamber.
A laugh.
Quiet at first.
Then growing.
The man rose from the rubble.
Slowly.
Like the broken stone around him had been nothing more than an inconvenience.
There was no sign of damage not from Cecilia. Nor from the fight with Asier.
The blood remained, staining torn fabric, but his body stood untouched beneath it as though every brutal strike, every shattered bone had simply never mattered.
The air in the room shifted.
He rolled his shoulder lazily before cracking his neck, exhaling as if he had merely finished stretching.
His grin returned.
Wider this time.
Crueler.
"Look at you," he said, gaze dragging slowly over Cecilia. "Barely able to keep yourself standing."
His eyes flicked to the blood staining the floor beneath her feet.
"I can practically hear your body falling apart."
A pause.
Mocking amusement curled into his voice.
"And that was me going easy on you."
Cecilia stood still.
One hand pressed briefly against her side before dropping again.
Blood traced slowly down her arm.
Her breathing had grown uneven.
Subtle.
Barely noticeable.
Still—Her expression remained empty.
Cold enough to feel lifeless.
"Shut," she said quietly, voice rough around the edges, "your yapping."
Her gaze lifted.
Dark.
Sharp.
The kind of stare that carried no hesitation.
Only murderous intent.
"I don't have anything else to focus on now."
The words landed flat.
Cold.
Like a verdict already decided.
For the first time, the grin on his face faltered.
Just slightly.
Cecilia took a single step forward.
"You should've stayed down."
A pause.
Her voice lowered.
Quieter.
Darker.
"It's your funeral."
The moment he straightened—
Cecilia moved.
No warning.
The floor beneath her feet shattered.
She crossed the distance before he could fully stand.
Her fist slammed into his face.
Hard.
His head snapped violently to the side—
A second strike buried itself into his ribs before he could recover.
Then a third.
Straight into his throat.
The impact sent him skidding backwards through fractured stone.
This time—
No grin.
No smug remark.
Only silence.
"You talked way too soon," Cecilia said coldly.
He steadied himself, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, breathing heavier now.
"You really don't know when to quit."
He lunged.
Too late.
She was already there.
A sharp sidestep—
Her elbow crashed into his jaw. His body twisted with the impact.
Her knee followed immediately into his stomach.
A violent cough tore from him.
Before he could breathe—
Her hand locked around his face. And slammed him into the ground.
Stone exploded beneath him.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
The chamber trembled beneath the force.
He grabbed her wrist forcing himself upright through sheer brute strength.
His fist came flying toward her—
She caught it.
His expression shifted.
Confusion.
For the first time since this fight began.
Cecilia's fingers tightened slowly around his hand.
The sound of bone grinding echoed through the ruined chamber.
"You should've stayed down," she said quietly.
Then twisted.
A crack split through the room.
There was no wasted movement, nor hesitation.
Only violence.
Cold and Brutal.
He staggered backwards.
She didn't let him breathe.
A kick slammed into his ribs.
Another into his chest.
The third swept his legs out from beneath him.
The moment he hit the floor—
Her heel came down hard enough to crater stone.
He rolled barely in time.
Fragments erupted where his skull had been moments earlier.
He surged upward with a snarl, swinging wildly now.
Cecilia slipped between every strike as she had already seen them happen.
A punch missed—
Her fist buried itself into his liver.
His breath hitched.
Her elbow crashed into his throat.
Then his jaw.
Then another brutal strike to the ribs.
Something cracked.
He stumbled—
She grabbed him by the collar and hurled him through a fractured pillar.
Stones collapsed around him.
He barely managed to stand.
Yet, she was already there.
Too fast.
Too close.
Her fist slammed into his stomach hard enough to fold him in half.
Another strike split across his face.
Then another.
Each impact colder than the last.
He coughed blood and dropped to one knee, breathing unevenly now.
Cecilia stood over him.
Blood ran slowly from her knuckles.
Her expression remained unreadable.
Empty.
Like exhaustion no longer mattered.
"You were saying something earlier," she said quietly.
Her voice felt hollow.
Dark.
Like she no longer cared whether he stood back up.
"That I was dying inside?"
She tilted her head slightly.
Then drove her knee into his face hard enough to slam him back into broken stone.
"You should worry about yourself."
The air itself felt ruined now. Torn apart by violence and pressure.
Her scythe slid into her hand. The weapon moved as though it belonged to her body.
Each shift deliberate.
Each motion precise.
He forced himself upright again—
Bleeding.
Breathing ragged.
Still stubborn enough to fight.
He lunged, desperate now.
Fast.
A blade came low.
Cecilia twisted her wrist.
Clang.
The shaft of her scythe intercepted it effortlessly.
Then pulled.
Not just the weapon—
Him.
His balance. His footing.
His control.
Everything came apart in that single motion.
A half-second of imbalance. That was all she ever needed.
Her heel slammed into his ribs.
The sound that followed was wrong.
He folded sideways and skidded violently across broken stone, barely catching himself—
Cecilia was already in front of him.
The scythe came down. He raised his sword on instinct.
Steel screamed.
The blade split through the weapon halfway, forcing his arms downward.
For the briefest second—
He hesitated.
That hesitation cost him.
Cecilia stepped forward.
The shaft of her scythe slammed into his throat.
Hard.
His body crashed backwards into a fractured pillar.
A suffocating crack echoed through the chamber.
Stone groaned overhead. Dust rained down around them.
He tried to breathe.
Couldn't.
Cecilia stood there.
Unmoving.
Calm in a way that felt deeply wrong against the brutality surrounding her.
"You're still reacting," she said quietly.
Cold.
Detached.
She waited.
Until his struggling became weaker.
Slower.
Noise instead of threat.
Then—
She shifted her stance.
One step back.
One slow rotation.
The scythe moved with her like an extension of her spine.
No wasted arc.
The blade came low.
The world seemed to still for half a second—
Long enough for inevitability to settle.
Steel met flesh.
And the struggle stopped.
Silence did not arrive gently.
It dropped into the ruined chamber like something heavy finally released.
Cecilia stood motionless for a moment longer.
Scythe resting loosely at her side.
The battlefield behind her did not feel like victory.
"Phew. Finally, it's over."
Cecilia let out a long sigh as she looked down at the motionless body lying amidst the rubble.
Without a hint of ceremony, she grabbed him by the collar and opened a spatial rift beside her.
The darkness of her subspace twisted open silently.
"Patch him up and knock some sense back into his damn head," she said before tossing the body inside as if she were throwing away a sack of garbage.
The rift closed immediately afterwards.
A moment later, the chamber rumbled violently.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Cracks spread further along the walls.
"Looks like this place is about to collapse," Asier remarked, glancing upward.
"Then let's leave before it does."
"Sure," Cecilia agreed casually. Then a small smile appeared on her face. "Well... they should probably leave."
Asier frowned.
"Who?"
She pointed towards the kids and Nox.
"You and me. We'll be going somewhere else."
His expression immediately darkened.
Cecilia said, already turning toward the exit. "I still have something to take care of."
Asier stared at her back for a few seconds before sighing heavily.
Together, they made their way through the tunnels until they reached the area where the rescued children had been gathered.
The criminals were bound and lined up nearby under heavy guard.
As soon as they arrived, Max approached.
"Master."
He gave a respectful bow.
"I've already sent word to the manor. The knights should arrive shortly to collect our esteemed guests."
His gaze briefly shifted toward the tied-up criminals.
"Excellent," Cecilia replied. "And the children?"
"Everything has been arranged. They have food, blankets, and temporary accommodations prepared. You won't need to worry about them. They'll be properly looked after until their families are located."
A rare look of approval crossed Cecilia's face.
"As expected of my most capable man."
Standing on her tiptoes, she patted Max's shoulder proudly.
Max simply accepted it with the patience of someone long accustomed to her antics.
"Oh, Max," Cecilia suddenly said. "Were there two children named Jess and Jamie among the rescued?"
"There were."
"Perfect."
She nodded before turning toward Nox.
"Nox, take the others back to the guild. I'll catch up later."
The two children immediately brightened at the mention.
Cecilia then pointed at Asier.
"You."
His eyes twitched.
"What?"
"Let's go."
"No."
"Yes."
"I'm injured."
"So?"
"I nearly died."
"You're still walking."
"I have multiple broken bones."
"You're still complaining, so clearly you're fine."
Asier stared at her in disbelief.
"You know, one day I'm going to get revenge for this."
"Sure you will."
"I'm serious."
"We'll see."
Cecilia ignored him completely and started walking.
After a few seconds, Asier let out a defeated sigh and followed.
The sun was beginning to rise by the time they reached the small house on the edge of town.
Soft golden light spilt across the streets.
For the first time in what felt like forever, everything was quiet.
Cecilia knocked on the door.
A few moments later, it opened.
The woman standing there froze.
Her eyes widened.
Then she saw the children.
"Jess... Jamie...?"
The two immediately ran toward her.
The woman dropped to her knees and pulled them into a desperate embrace.
Tears streamed down her face as she held them tightly, as if letting go would cause them to disappear again.
She thanked Cecilia over and over.
Again.
And again.
Her voice broke each time.
Yet Cecilia simply shrugged.
"It was nothing."
Nothing more. No grand speech. No demand for gratitude. No attempt to take credit.
Just those two simple words.
Asier watched the reunion in silence.
The relief on the woman's face.
The tears.
The way the children clung to her.
Then he looked at Cecilia.
She stood quietly near the doorway, looking almost uncomfortable with all the attention.
For a moment, he remembered the stories whispered in temples and noble circles.
The rumors.
The accusations.
The image people painted of her.
A monster.
A walking calamity.
Asier looked back at the woman thanking Cecilia through tears.
Then at Cecilia herself.
Maybe those stories weren't the whole truth.
Maybe the people spreading them only saw the blood she left behind and never bothered to ask why it was there in the first place.
Or maybe...
They had simply never met the person standing before him now.
To be continued....