Novius' POV
A dull thud echoed in my ears as I dropped a man's body. The crash of flesh meeting earth barely registered, drowned beneath the rush of blood pounding through my veins. I took a deep breath, calming my nerves, before looking around.
The field was a nightmare—limbs scattered like broken dolls, heads caved in with sickening precision. The grass, once lush and green, was soaked in crimson, squelching beneath my boots with every step.
With a glance, I nodded at one of the guards. Standing upright, he nodded back before the guards assembled to collect and burn the lifeless bodies.
'It was not the fault of the guards,' I thought to myself, most of them were weaker when compared to the intruders individually but they were still brave enough to stall, and even kill some of them till I returned and the few who could keep up with them, did so, in the process they got heavily injured too.
My steps were heavy as I turned toward the group sitting far from the bloodbath, my chest tightening with every glance at Xironia's form, her dress half-red from blood, and Alaric's tear-streaked face. The sight of them battered, broken—my blood ran hot, the rage simmering just beneath the surface. Sadly, no one remained to kill.
Maids were helping Aurelia with tending Xironia, except Eirlys. From what Alaric had said, I could deduce that she was with him during all this, and the girl must have been extremely worried about her siblings. Seeing Valen, who had barely escaped death, must have deeply shaken Eirlys. If it wasn't for Mother, Valen and, most probably, Caelum, both would be dead.
I silently sat down beside my Mother and Alaric.
"Is it bad?" I kept my voice low, but I couldn't hide the tension. Aurelia didn't look up. Her hands moved deftly over Xironia's wound, her lips pressed into a thin line. "She'll be fine, it is exhaustion mostly," she muttered, there was a calm in her tone that told me it really was okay.
"She burned through all her mana protecting the boy." My mother's voice was steady, but the words hit like a blow. I stared at Xironia's pale face—she shouldn't have needed to fight. She shouldn't have to protect him like that. My chest tightened, a sick mix of guilt and anger settling in. If we were a second late, there would have been nothing left to protect.
"They planned this... waited for the right moment," my mother said, her words calm but pointed. She was right, of course, but that did nothing to quiet the gnawing guilt tightening around my chest.
Every other time I left the manor, it was under the watchful gaze of guards, many more than there were today, layers of protection at every place. Today? I let it slip—just twenty minutes. That's all it took for things to fall apart. If I had notified them of my leave, this wouldn't have happened.
While I was deep in thought and the only noise in surroundings was that of the soft breeze, I heard a groan.
Aurelia's hand held a vial of healing potion. Xironia groaned, a low, weak sound that rippled through the heavy air, but it was enough to make my lungs finally let go of the breath they'd been holding unknowingly.
Without a word, Alaric peeled himself from my mother's lap and ran toward Xironia, his small arms locking around her as if holding her together. He didn't cry, didn't speak—just held her as if letting go would break something irreparable. Xironia, still pale and barely conscious, forced herself to sit up, cradling him in return, her fingers trembling as they stroked his back. It was as though only his touch could keep her upright.
Her eyes met mine, the corners of her lips twitching into a faint smile, though her face looked worn, almost fragile. I managed a smile in return, but it felt hollow—empty in the face of everything we'd just survived.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
"Al, I'm fine," Xironia whispered, her voice soft, almost pleading but Alaric continued clinging to her, burying his face deeper into her lap. Her hand trembled as she stroked his back, the slow healing of her wounds still visible.
Xironia moved with deliberate slowness, her breath hitching as she eased herself down beside me, still cradling Alaric like a lifeline.
"Stay down, idiot." Eirlys's voice cut through the tension like a blade. She shoved Caelum back onto the ground before he could fully rise, her frustration clear in every sharp movement.
Caelum's chest heaved as his eyes flickered around, searching for something—someone. He barely registered Eirlys's attempts to push him down again, his fingers twitching, as if itching for a weapon that wasn't there.
Caelum's gaze snapped to me, and I pointed to the spot behind him knowing who he was looking for. "So... how exactly did you two end up like this?"
As if it was a cue, I saw Alaric stir. He looked up at Xironia first, before turning to look at Caelum.
"We were searching for the young master. Miss Xironia told us to leave after guiding us and the maids outside," Caelum began, his voice trembling. "But when we came out, Eirlys, Miss Aurelia, and the young master were not there. I asked Nessa and Lily," he looked toward them, "and they hadn't seen those three too. Then Valen rushed inside when he heard Lily mention the young master wanted to play with Eirlys. I followed him… I don't know what we were thinking."
"The mansion seemed untouched, the battle then was still raging outside. We rushed to the library, hoping... no, we knew that was the place to find the young master. But when we saw the shattered window…" Caelum's voice broke for a moment, his eyes darting to Alaric. "Valen thought of the worst case possible, unable to think straight in the heat of the moment."
"Valen, being the reckless fool he is, drew their attention before I could even notice. One of them appeared, and… we didn't stand a chance." Caelum's shoulders sagged, his face pale as he glanced at Valen's motionless body. "By the time Lady Elowen arrived, Valen was nearly dead, and I—" He swallowed hard. "I was nothing more than a rag-doll to him. Forgive me… for my weakness."
The more I heard him, the more I wanted to call them stupid. Valen was one thing, but for Caelum to act like that during a grave situation was completely unheard of.
"Don't beat yourself about that. Almost all of them were three stages above you two. It's impressive that you two survived..." Xironia consoled but the next second her gaze sharpened, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Why did you go back inside? After I personally led you out? Did you really think you could survive in a place I was fleeing from?" Caelum stiffened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed nervously. His weak and pale frame grew even whiter under her scrutiny, sweat beading at his temple.
Xironia sighed, her gaze flicking to the bound, injured man lying just beyond us. She looked at me, her eyes narrowing with meaning. I frowned, confused for a moment until she clicked her tongue in frustration. "Sleep," she murmured, casting a glance toward Alaric. His questioning look mirrored my own for a second before I finally realized.
My finger brushed Alaric's cheek, soft and warm under my touch. "I'll have all your favourite sweets ready," I whispered. "Rest now."
As my words faded, Alaric's eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. His small frame leaned, swaying ever so slightly, until he slumped, finally surrendering to sleep in Xironia's lap.
Xironia adjusted Alaric gently in her lap, her gaze lifting to meet mine. The smile she wore was fleeting, replaced by a more serious look. "Was it a 'Finger'?" The rest of the people were all looking at us with grave expressions too, except one.
Mother's fingers curled into the rough black cloak of the captured figure and she yanked the cloak off. He was the one leading the attack, and he was also someone I had seen. I don't have any sort of relationship with him, far from it, but I do recognise him.
My mother seemed to have realized who it was too, but except us two, everyone else was clueless, so I decided to speak up.
"He isn't," I said, catching Xironia's sharp gaze. "But this man…" My voice dropped. The weight of my words hung in the air, and my mother's voice cut through the tension. "He's one of the generals of the Royal Army." The confirmation sent a shiver down my spine.
As we gathered, the tension in the air thickened, the unconscious body of Valen—a silent reminder of how close we all had come to death—loomed over us like a dark cloud.
"They weren't just fodder," Aurelia muttered, her brow furrowing. "Most of them… were above Yellow stage. We were outclassed from the start."
"Most? Everyone except the one I killed in the hallway was a Blue stage cultivator. They were surely preparing for god knows how long and waited for this one chance."
There was a silence. No one seemed to have anything to speak, or maybe everyone had so much to say that they couldn't decide what to let out first.
"How many attacks of a scale this big have happened?"
"It's the third one. The only one that has managed to injure people." My thoughts churned while I answered my mother's question. Twice before, they had targeted Xironia. This time, they came for Alaric.
A groan escaped Mother's lips, "They ruined the grand moment I had planned," She clicked her tongue in annoyance, I knew how much she wanted to meet Alaric and I wanted Alaric to meet her too, properly, sadly fate had its own plans.
"So, what are we going to do now?" Aurelia questioned.
I don't want to lie to myself. I surely liked this place.
"The closer we are to them, the more dangerous living will be." I wanted Alaric to live a peaceful life, away from all this chaos.
"Are we... leaving Ravencrest?" Aurelia's voice cracked, I could tell there was a tinge of excitement behind it, though the gravity of the situation quickly smothered it. My gaze went to the ruined manor, the broken walls, shattered windows. 'Renovation' was all that came to my mind.
"Yeah," I put a hand on Xironia's shoulder, "It is better we stay away from the capital and other towns that are still under the influence of old nobles."
Everyone's gaze was at me, wondering where this place was except Xironia's. She already knew the place I was talking about.
"Pack your things. At dawn, we leave for Greystone."