"This way, climb down, quick, quick, quick, quick!"
Viera rushed her children down to the bunker beneath the estate for safety. The situation was obvious. Deren had finally found a way to take over, and it was at the price of their lives.
As the giant steel door closed, Tasha let out a loud cry.
"Of all the times you could decide to throw a tantrum, you chose now," Viera thought as she tried to calm her down.
"Thank God this place is soundproof." The fortification of the room was solid—except if you knew the lock, no one could come in, no one could go out.
"Babies don't really know when to shut up, do they?"
"Elric, watch your mouth!" Viera scolded.
"I didn't say anything," he replied in confusion.
"Dorian, was it you?" She stared at him, sweating profusely and biting her lips. She could hear the thumping sounds of her heart.
"It wasn't me," he responded.
"Who's there? How did you get here?" she shouted immediately after Dorian's response.
"Such audacity, shouting at me in my own home while you are trespassing. I don't know whether to say that I am hurt or you guys lack manners." The figure came out of the darkness.
"Deren, how did you get here?"
"I lived here before. I think I would know the best hiding place," he said mockingly in a tone that made it sound as if he was insulted.
"Now then, time to talk business."
"Let's go upstairs, shall we?" He chuckled, and then in a serious tone, "No, seriously, move, you parasites."
Elric rushed to the front of his mother. He was not having any of this. He would not allow Deren to win like that.
"You heard right—the headmaster is here and he is going to have all of your heads, so don't get cocky, you bastard," Elric shouted. His eyes were fuming and his veins pumping. "Trying to kill your own blood—how low will you stoop for power? I would never let you rule. NEVER!"
"Ah, it seems I wasn't clear when I said move." A vehemently forced smile appeared on his face, giving him the look of a deranged psychopath. He raised his hand, pointing it towards Elric's face.
"Oh, little child, Daddy wasn't around long enough to teach you respect, but I guess your incompetent mother could have done that. Sadly, I don't think she has the necessary brainpower to do so. But you know what only fathers can teach their sons—the lesson you are about to hear."
"We were twins, as you already know, but he was birthed mere minutes before me. Two potential heirs, one prize, and I'm not going to lie or pretend—I wanted that power, the money, the influence, control. So I studied, I trained, I worked my ass off, eighteen hours a day for thirteen unforgettable years of my life. You remember, Viera, don't you?"
"I always had an injury, a bruise, bandages wrapped around my body, bags under my eyes. Comparison between me and my brother was just a spit in the face. I was stronger, I was smarter, I was better—just... simply better."
"Time skip: my father fell terribly ill when I was eighteen and was on his deathbed when I was nineteen. And there, in my presence, my brother's presence, all the maids and servants, all the butlers and knights, all the coachmen and caretakers, three priests and the Duke—he proclaimed Derek Count of Vael, ruler of all the county, simply because he was older by minutes, mere minutes. So those minutes equaled and surpassed my sleepless nights, those minutes equaled and surpassed my injuries, those minutes equaled and surpassed every single blood and sweat and tears and all my hard work."
"And as he spoke, my brother ruled. He was happy, married, had children, and smiled every fucking day of his life. And that smile—I remember vividly—anytime I looked at it, it felt like I were being stabbed ten thousand times in my chest. And unlike him, I felt emptiness. I had no purpose, because of mere minutes. And that is when I had to use my own advantages. His was mere minutes; mine was brain and brute."
"So yes, when your daddy went to the Imperial Capital one year, seven months, and nineteen days ago, just when Tasha was about four months old, I killed him. Yes, Elric, I killed your daddy, and slowly I gained possession of everything. And today I come to claim what is rightfully mine, so I am going to teach you what your father never did."
"BURN!"
"Aaaaaaargh!" Elric let out a loud cry as the left half of his face felt the hot sensation of Deren's flames. His skin dropped down like melting rubber. From the peak of his hair to the tip of his nose on the left part of his face was disfigured horribly. He collapsed on the ground as he tried to cry out the burning pain.
Viera rushed to her son's side, and one glance made a silent tear roll down her cheeks. How does one comfort someone in agonizing torment? She tried speaking, but the right words couldn't find their way out. All that she had was a desperate outpouring of incomplete words.
Her heart told her to strike Deren down, but her mind stopped her. She didn't have any idea on how to get out of this mess safely, but one thing she knew was that obeying Deren and going upstairs would give her more time and maybe create an opportunity she could capitalize on.
As she schemed through possible scenarios in her mind, she didn't take note of Dorian, who was already traumatized. When he gained full consciousness, he thrust full force at Deren.
"I'm going to fucking kill you!" He gripped his hand with all his strength and let out every single volt of electricity his body could produce. He wanted to electrocute him like he did Ralph, but this time no level of sanity would stop him from ending Deren's life.
"Eaarrrggghhhh!" Deren screamed.
"I'm going to roast you inside out, you hear me? I'll rip you to shreds, I'll gouge your eyes out. You would wish you'd never been born. You are going to the depths of hell today. This shall be your last breath!" Dorian threw all the curses he had equipped in his dictionary as Deren kept screaming. His eyes couldn't sense anything. The only thing he could hear was "kill him, kill him, kill him."
He had lost it.
"Aaaaaarrrrggghhh!" Deren shouted.
"Kidding! Zap zap, zap zap. Did you think your little current could harm me? Weren't you listening? To you, I am God." He laughed and grabbed Dorian by the neck, lifting him off the ground. Dorian kicked, scratched, punched as he tried to fight for just a gasp of air. Deren was not letting him go. He kept coughing and gasping as the view slowly became dimmer and blurry.
Deren took a cold stare at Viera, who was on her knees begging for the release of Dorian.
"Ah ah ah, don't get close unless he dies. Not like any of you are making it out alive tonight."
"Now Elric, look up." Choking Dorian wasn't enough—he wanted his brother to see him in a dire situation—but the pain Elric felt didn't permit him to look up.
"Fine, I guess we'll do it the long way, where I have to give a lecture till you look up."
"Do you know what happens when you suffocate, when you fight so desperately for the air you have taken for granted all the days of your life? Don't be ashamed, Dorian—Daddy died this way, and I gave him the same lecture. First you..."
"Fine, we will do as you say, but let him go," Elric grunted as he staggered to get up. "Leave him alone."
"Good. To be honest, I kinda forgot what happens anyways. Let's go up." He grinned.
He dropped Dorian hard on the floor. He was already half purple and pink. Dorian took several deep gulps of air as he caressed his neck, which already had the firm handprint of Deren.
"That wasn't hard, was it? And before you go, I'd like to inform you, you don't need to worry about Theranor disturbing our meeting. Those knights you saw are actual beasts—I handpicked them myself."
***
"I'm glad. I knew you would come," Meruim sighed. "I'm afraid this is not one of those meetings where we would sit over and drink some fine beer."
"I'm afraid not, old friend," Theranor responded.
"This is injustice, but I swore an oath. My life and sword belong to the Duke, and I would uphold that with honor, so I hate to say this, but one of us has to die today." He chuckled.
"Knights of Roswell, we gather here today to execute the unimpeachable orders of His Grace, Duke Melvin Lyza the Third, Head of the Illustrious Roswell Family and Sovereign Lord of the Rosa Duchy!"
"Before us stands an obstructor of justice, a rebel committing treason against the Crown! By the authority of the Rosa Code of Fealty, ACT XLII: the Edict of High Treason, you are hereby sentenced to DEATH on site! May your soul rest in peace... or be damned for your disloyalty!"
"EXECUTE THE SENTENCE!!!"
The knights let out a loud battle cry. Theranor looked left and right, studying their faces, stance, aura level. These were not some petty amateur knights he could just solo on a regular Monday morning. They served the Duke directly, and some looked foreign, as if hired from outside the duchy. He had the ability to manipulate sand, but the area wasn't really sandy. The odds were against him.
He laughed out loud like a psychopath and roared, "Fine then, I'll just have to get creative. Are you ready, Meruim? Give me all you've got!"
"ATTAACCKKK!!!"
And so the battle began. The mages fired all sorts of spells up at the top of the roof where Theranor stood. He jumped so high and landed behind them at the gate. He raised his palms, and all the interlocking bricks uprooted from the ground and moved behind him.
He started shooting all of them in an attempt to displace everyone. All of them missed, falling hard to the floor and breaking into smaller pieces.
The smaller fragments rose and kept shooting at them, making them dodge both the incoming interlocks and the upcoming fragments.
"I have had enough of this shit," one knight said.
A spiky, sharp shadow in the shape of a tentacle came up from the ground. Theranor was fast enough to dodge it, but the only direction he could go was already predicted, and a boulder two meters tall blocked his path. The other knights had settled down with the little delay and started attacking. With no time, he tried to control the massive piece of rock, and it was a little harder than controlling interlocking bricks—because sand was made from bedrock, not the other way around like interlock was—but he was able to control it and change its purpose to be his shield.
He stood firmly behind the boulder as numerous attacks came, hitting and tearing it apart, and he too fired the interlocks without direction, hoping they would hit someone at least.
As he focused so hard, he didn't notice when Meruim got behind him and landed a huge slash across his back. He felt the strike as it tore each and every fiber of his skin and muscle that crossed its path. It felt hot and chilly at the same time.
"You have gotten slow."
"Why didn't you finish it?"
"Focus." And he leaped away from Theranor's side. Then arrows came falling, but Theranor was able to run this time. Each arrow was an explosive, so as he ran, the only thing he heard was the loud sound of boom. And by the side of his eye, in a single glance, he saw a knight with a massive mallet swinging towards his face. He fell to dodge it.
He lay on the floor as the knight, trying to nail him to the floor, went for another smash.
"It's about time you came," Theranor chuckled.
The mallet was so close to hitting, but it was blocked by a barricade of sand and instantly scattered into individual grains and stabbed inside him, leaving the particles in his body. His skin rippled, bulged, and tore as the sand shifted beneath. He looked like he was boiling inside out.
He let out a loud cry. The sand particles moved speedily throughout his body, tearing every single tissue.
Suddenly it was quiet, and he collapsed, never to get up again.
"Now I'll show you why they call me Sandman."
He scattered grains of sand around him, making it look like a little dust cloud.
The attacks resumed, but now more ferocious. They came from every angle, but still the attacks were blocked by barricades of sand, as if he knew when and where the attacks were coming from instinctively.
"It's the sand cloud. It acts like a sixth sense—it detects every impending attack. Don't attack around him—attack him directly at his front. The barricade wouldn't be able to block that," Meruim ordered.
"Fighting someone who knows all your strategies and spells really sucks," he chuckled. "I guess I should start attacking."
"Where did the sand come from?" the knights thought.
A large river of sand arose from outside the gate. It moved like tides, sweeping everything. Most of them were able to avoid it, but the few trapped inside tried to escape. The more they resisted, the more they got swallowed in. Then, simultaneously, all of them started yelling. They got raised up by sharp cone-like pillars that had already passed through their torsos.
He laughed. "Feels like the good old days."
[Boom]
That was the noise heard from the background. It was followed by sounds of falling wood. Ashes fell softly on the floor. Theranor looked behind him, and the house was wrapped in flames.
"No, no, no, no, no! What have you done, Deren?" Theranor wailed as he ran towards the house.
"You let your guard down, old man. Now goodbye."
Sharp pain ran through Theranor's nerves. It was hot, but he felt cold. He bled out as he saw the estate crumble under the flames.
"Was he able to save them?" A tear flowed on his cheeks and beard.
Deren came out of the flames holding something in his hand. It was the shape of a human head—no, it was a human head. It dangled to and fro as he marched out of the house. He swung the head as far as he could. He grunted vehemently as he clenched his fist.
"Catch that traitor now! AFTER HIM!"