Chapter 259 - The Wail Before the Dragon

Count Laurence:

We were being led by the duchess’s servants, forced along like prisoners. One of the maids had struck me across the nose earlier, and the pain still throbbed with each step. I could have retaliated with my wind magic, but I knew better. Resistance would only escalate things further. For now, I chose silence, hoping that my injuries could be turned into an advantage, proof of mistreatment I could report to the royal court later.

Political nobles were not allowed to act violently against other nobles. There were rules, after all. Besides, we weren’t part of the duchy; we were nobles from the kingdom, sent here under royal authority.

The Evenharts might have suspected our involvement in the assassination attempt, but they had no solid proof, at least not yet. In such situations, things could become legally ambiguous. I wasn’t sure how the law would apply, considering their rank as high nobles, but I still believed the kingdom would intervene to protect us. At worst, the Evenharts might face fines or be ordered to repair the damage caused here. A slap on the wrist. I didn’t care what happened to them. I just wanted to leave this alive.

Nikolaus Wolves fled to take cover, but I suspect the bastard is trying to erase evidence. Why else would he keep proof of his actions? Could he be considering betraying us? Not that I can claim innocence myself. I kept some evidence too. No one would be foolish enough to commit such madness without ensuring there was something to prove we weren’t acting alone.

It doesn't matter. My share is safely stored in a storage bracelet. Even if they torture me and I confess everything, when they search my mansion, a servant already knows that if it's not me personally, he must destroy the bracelet. I bet the others have taken similar precautions and secured their evidence just as carefully.

Despite my careful planning, fear gnawed at me. What if Nikolaus Wolves turned over evidence before we could defend ourselves? He was the one who had suggested this entire plot, but if he acted first and painted us as the true conspirators, we could all be damned.

No! The kingdom would surely be cautious... I hope. We would have a proper trial. I believe none of us would hand over anything, as we could still come out as victims in this situation. If we played the game correctly, the kingdom would have no choice but to side with us, right?

The truth was beginning to sink in. We were completely and utterly cornered. If the kingdom had to choose between sacrificing a few nobles or maintaining their alliance with the Evenharts, the outcome was obvious. Someone had to take the fall. Someone had to be made an example of.

And I had no intention of being that someone.

We were led out into the courtyard, and the sight nearly made me sick.

Blood splattered the stone. The stench of death clung to the air despite the rain. Bits of... flesh... were smeared across the wall. Yet it had been cleaned recently. There were no bodies left, just the aftermath of a massacre.

A little further ahead, I spotted the duchess seated calmly in a chair. Beside her sat the commoner with long, reddish-brown hair, whom I recognized as the mother of the heir.

The maids behind us shoved the tips of their spears into our backs, forcing us to our knees.

"Argh! Bloody hell!" I cursed, my knee hitting the ground hard.

The duchess watched us with cold, calculating eyes. A servant approached, carrying a silver tray with a wine glass, which the duchess sipped from leisurely before returning it to the tray.

Then, after a long pause, she spoke.

"I believe we can begin."

Her voice was ice.

"Please! I beg you! I'll confess everything!" one of the nobles cried out, his voice trembling with desperation.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"Idiot!" I roared, rage boiling inside me. "They have no proof! They can't act against us! Diplomacy protects us!" I spat, trying to maintain my composure, but the fear was palpable. Some of the nobles around me were visibly distressed, yet they remained silent, while others trembled.

"They can't—" I started again, but before I could finish, a fist struck my face with brutal force, delivered by one of the maids.

"Do not interrupt Lady Margaery," the maid said coldly.

"Girls, teach him how to respect the authority of a queen," the duchess ordered with an icy calm that sent shivers down my spine.

Without hesitation, the maids obeyed. Kicks rained down on me, and in desperation, I raised a wind barrier, trying to regain control.

"You bitch!" I screamed, lifting my hand to conjure a wind bullet aimed directly at the maid closest to me. "I'm done with this mockery!"

But when I turned, the sight before me froze my entire body. My breath caught in my throat. Every hair on my body stood on end, and a cold sweat ran down my back.

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A massive gray panther stood before me, its piercing eyes staring directly into my soul. Its presence was like a blade at my throat, silent, lethal, inevitable.

It was a Moon Panther, a deadly assassin feared across every corner of the continent.

I fell backward, collapsing onto the cold stone floor, my heart hammering in pure terror.

The nobles around me scrambled to their feet, panic consuming them as they raised their trembling hands, attempting to summon defensive spells. But deep down, we all knew the truth.

There was no hope.

Nothing. Not even magic could stop that thing.

"How... How is that beast here!?" one of the nobles stammered beside me, his voice cracking with hysteria.

The Moon Panther moved gracefully, its powerful form stalking forward until it stopped right beside the duchess and the commoner woman, standing as a silent guardian.

The duchess's calm gaze met ours. "Think carefully before daring to raise your voices against me again," she warned, her voice soft yet filled with unspoken danger.

The panther's eyes never left me, its unblinking, predatory stare making my throat tighten painfully.

"This... this is a Moon Panther! A killer! A monster!" Baron Franklin shouted, his voice raw with panic.

"No one can tame those beasts! How did you control it?" I managed to stammer, my voice breaking as the panic surged higher.

The duchess chuckled, a quiet, chilling laugh. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, her voice smooth as silk but sharper than steel.

"Tamed? No. This creature is not tamed," she said, her lips curling into a dangerous smile. "She is free to go wherever she pleases, to do whatever she desires. And yet... there are only two people in this world she has chosen to protect."

The panther's eyes bore into us, unrelenting, unyielding.

"Care to guess who those two people are?" the duchess whispered, her gaze sweeping over the group of trembling nobles.

"It can't be...!" another noble gasped, attempting to rise to flee, but a maid was faster. She grabbed his shoulder and forced him back down to his knees with practiced efficiency.

"Kneel."

The maid's voice was sharp, authoritative, and the noble, now pale and shaking, obeyed without resistance.

The duchess continued, her voice now colder than before. "My daughter... and my nephew. They are the ones this panther has chosen to protect. The very same people you tried to harm."

A suffocating silence fell over us.

My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst. My body felt trapped between searing heat and icy dread. The realization was setting in. This was not a negotiation; it was a death sentence.

I could hear Baron Franklin trembling beside me, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know what you're talking about."

The duchess's eyes narrowed.

"Kill him," she said, as casually as if she were discussing the weather.

"AHHHHH!" Franklin's scream echoed across the courtyard as the panther lunged, its claws tearing through his flesh as if it were nothing but paper. The baron collapsed, blood gushing from the deep wounds as the beast's fangs sank into his stomach, ripping him apart with brutal efficiency. His agonized cries lingered far too long, yet none of us dared to move. We were all paralyzed, consumed by absolute terror.

The panther continued its grim work, disemboweling him as casually as one might peel a fruit. The sound of flesh being torn, the wet squelching as organs spilled onto the ground, was unbearable. I tried to avert my eyes, but the horror forced its way into my vision until I doubled over, vomiting onto the stone floor.

When it was done, the panther returned to the duchess's side, sitting calmly as if the massacre had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Blood dripped from its claws, staining the stones beneath it, yet it remained perfectly still, a silent predator awaiting its next command.

The duchess, seated in her ornate chair, watched us with icy detachment. Her gaze lingered for a moment, then she spoke with a voice as sharp as a blade.

"Does anyone else wish to lie to me?"

The silence that followed was deafening. The nobles around me were pale as corpses, their eyes wide with shock and fear. None of us could even muster a whisper in protest.

"You've committed a crime!" one of the nobles shouted, trembling, desperately clinging to the last shred of defiance he could muster. "Diplomacy doesn't allow this!"

The duchess's eyes narrowed dangerously. Slowly, she rose from her chair, the calm in her demeanor shifting into something far more menacing.

"Diplomacy?" she echoed, stepping forward.

Before the man could react, her hand shot out, gripping his hair and slamming his face violently against the stone floor. The sickening crack echoed through the courtyard, blood pooling instantly beneath his shattered nose.

"Fuck diplomacy!" she roared. With a brutal kick, she struck his face again, the blood dripping freely as he groaned in agony.

"Come!" she bellowed, her voice challenging the heavens themselves. "Come and seek vengeance!”

The air grew heavier, thick with an overwhelming energy that pressed against my chest, making it difficult to breathe. The stones beneath our feet vibrated. The castle walls groaned as if under immense pressure.

A massive shadow darkened the sun above.

"ROOOOOOOOOAAAAR!" The thunderous roar of the winged beast shook the very ground beneath us as it landed atop the fortress wall, perched like a monstrous predator surveying its prey. Its colossal form, crimson as blood, with jagged spikes protruding from its scales, spread massive wings that blotted out the sun.

In that moment, I lost all control. My body buckled under the sheer, primal terror that gripped me, and I collapsed to my knees, paralyzed. My entire being was consumed by a fear so overwhelming that humiliation twisted deep in my gut. The warm sensation spreading down my leg made it painfully clear. I had pissed myself.

It was a beast torn straight from a nightmare. Its scarlet hide, glistening with moisture, seemed carved from molten stone. Rows upon rows of jagged teeth lined its maw, each glimmering with deadly promise. But the eyes... the eyes were the worst of all. Its gaze burned with fury, and the mere presence of the creature seemed to drain the very air around us, turning the atmosphere into something suffocating, as though pure evil itself loomed before us. In that moment, I could barely breathe, my eyes locked onto the face of the colossal being watching us. Every subtle movement it made was a reminder that we stood before something capable of making the world kneel, as if it were a god. No one there was prepared to face such power.

A true... dragon!

I could hardly believe the calmness of the duchess, the common-born mother, and the maids as that monstrosity stared us down.

Fear consumed me so completely that my body gave out. I retched onto the cold stone floor, trembling so violently that my hands failed to support me. I collapsed onto my side, still vomiting, as every muscle surrendered to sheer panic.

The nobles around me were no better, frozen in place, paralyzed by terror. Some fainted on the spot, while one remained standing just long enough for his body to lock stiff, eyes wide in a vacant stare.

He didn't blink.

It was as if the life had been drained from him entirely.

The duchess watched the scene with visible impatience, pressing her fingers against her temples.

"Wonderful..." she muttered, irritation clear in her voice as she eyed the trembling noble. "His mind collapsed from stress. Well, he's probably gone insane now."

She exhaled in frustration, her gaze hardening. "What used to take me days of careful torture, Cylla managed with just a look."

Turning toward her maids, she waved a hand dismissively.

"He's useless now. Nothing but an empty shell. Take him outside and feed him to the plant."