Just a day after his second victory in the arena, Xavier was already making waves—not just among the spectators but also the people of Saint Petersburg, where the Gladiator Grand Festival was underway.
Inside The Dragon's Den tavern, he sat across from Anastasia and Alcmena, sharing a hearty meal as they discussed a nagging issue that had only recently dawned on him.
“Maybe showing up here without a disguise wasn’t the smartest move,” Xavier murmured, stuffing a spoonful of stew into his mouth. “It won’t take much for someone to recognize I’m the 2nd Prince of the Ivanovich family.”
Anastasia took a sip of her tea, the faintest of smiles playing on her lips. “I understand your worry, Young Master. But you don’t need to stress too much. People won't immediately realize who you are just from looking.”
“Are you sure?” Xavier’s gaze flicked around the tavern, clearly uneasy.
"Yes!" Anastasia replied confidently. "The only way anyone would recognize you is if they happened to look at a newspaper… or maybe a poster… Or—" her eyes widened slightly, "a coin, or even the currency with your face on it…”
Xavier let out a slow sigh as the realization sank in.
Anastasia’s face softened, and she added with a slight frown, "I suppose we’ll need a disguise a bit more thorough than just using a different name, Young Master.”
Then Alcmena burst out laughing at their flustered expressions. “Why are you laughing, Master?” Xavier raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. “Maybe you should take some notes. Cats don’t normally go around chatting with strangers either.”
“Oh, you brat!” Alcmena muttered, eyes narrowing as he lunged, claws glinting. Xavier yelped, dodging as best he could while Alcmena mockingly taunted, “How’s that for a lesson in secrecy?”
Meanwhile, Anastasia watched their scuffle, her gaze warm with amusement. Just as she reached for another sip of tea, a heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder. She turned to see a large, brawny man grinning down at her, clearly a bounty hunter with a bit too much to drink.
“Why don’t you join me and my friends over there, sweetheart?” he said, his voice slurring. “We’d show a pretty thing like you a real good time.”
Anastasia maintained a polite smile as she shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m already occupied with matters far more important.”
He chuckled, clearly unfazed. “Aw, don’t be like that. My friends and I are real gentlemen—we’ll even put up with that scrawny brat you’re with.”
At that, a flicker of irritation crossed Anastasia’s face. She offered him one more chance, her voice icy. “Please, let go of my shoulder, sir.”
But the bounty hunter ignored her, chuckling as he held his ground. “You don’t seem to get it, woman. It wasn’t a request.”
The next moment, a sinister green glow flared around Anastasia as she activated her poison aura, filling the room with a chilling presence. The chatter in the tavern fell silent as the air thickened, and a few nearby patrons instinctively recoiled.
The bounty hunter, not one to back down, scowled and hurled his drink at her. “Who the hell do you think you are?!”
Anastasia didn’t even flinch. She moved in front of Xavier, blocking the mug’s path with a calm, unshakable stance. The glass shattered against her shoulder, shards scattering around them. Silence fell over the tavern as every patron’s gaze shifted to the sudden chaos.
Xavier’s face flushed with anger. “What do you think you’re doing, you madman!”
But the bounty hunter wasn’t listening to Xavier. His stunned eyes were fixed on Anastasia, baffled that the broken glass hadn’t left so much as a scratch or bruise on her face. Her hair, now slightly disheveled from the impact, fell loosely around her shoulders, making her look even more intimidating.
Composed, though her eyes now gleamed with an ominous glint, Anastasia’s voice came out soft but firm. “I suggest you refrain from throwing anything that could hurt my master.”
The man sneered, his pride pricked. He lunged, swinging his fist—but before he even registered what had happened, Anastasia calmly flicked her finger, sending him sprawling against a nearby wall.
Rising slowly, she turned to Xavier. “Forgive me, Young Master, but I needed to take control of the situation before it escalated. I couldn’t risk you being caught up in it.”
Across the room, the bounty hunter’s friends were on their feet, shouting as they rushed to their dazed leader. “Boss!”
He shook his head, attempting to regain his bearings. “What... did that woman just do?”
Xavier’s gaze shifted to Alcmena, his voice laced with concern. “Master, are we really going to let Miss Anastasia handle this all by herself?”
Alcmena didn’t respond at first, his gaze steely as he watched the bounty hunters rally around their leader. Xavier could feel a simmering rage pulsing from Alcmena through their bond as vessel and contractor.
“Master?” Xavier pressed, growing uneasy about what Alcmena might be planning.
Alcmena finally spoke, his tone calm but unyielding. “Just sit down, Xavier. Let Anastasia handle it.”
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“But—” Xavier began, glancing worriedly at Anastasia.
“Quiet,” Alcmena cut in. “Watch and learn, Xavier. Do you think Lady Anastasia is just some ordinary maid? There’s a reason I chose her as my bride.” He smirked. “Dragons never choose weak spouses. Now sit back and watch why she’s worthy of that title.”
Xavier hesitated, his hand instinctively moving toward Excalibur. But, trusting Alcmena’s judgment, he let his hand fall back to his side and took his seat, murmuring, “Alright, Master. I trust you.”
Watching Anastasia as she faced down the group, Xavier thought, I knew from our first encounter, that Miss Anastasia has always been… a 'gifted' like me. But how strong is she, for Master to feel so assured?
The bounty hunter, having regained his footing with the help of his comrades, clicked his tongue in frustration, his pride stinging from the embarrassment. I can’t let her get the best of me again, he fumed.
“You’re back on your feet,” Anastasia remarked coolly, her expression unchanged. “Hopefully that gave you some sense.”
Humiliated, the man barked to his underlings, “Get her! Kill that witch!”
A dozen bounty hunters surged forward, weapons gleaming as they charged Anastasia. She remained perfectly still, her face calm as she revealed slender, deadly daggers hidden within her clothes.
One of the hunters swung his blade at her, but his weapon was halted mid-swing, stopped cold by her aura alone. He blinked in horror. Is this really happening?
Determined, several of the others joined the attack, aiming to overwhelm her. But as their weapons met her aura, the steel cracked and shattered into fragments, scattering across the floor. The hunters stumbled back, disbelief painted across their faces.
“Too bad,” Anastasia taunted, her voice soft but cutting. In an instant, she grabbed one hunter by the face, slamming him to the ground with effortless force. Before the others could react, she struck them down one by one, her movements fluid and precise, leaving a few dazed spectators in awe.
As more hunters came at her, slashing wildly, she dodged each blow with graceful efficiency, countering each one with swift cuts from her daggers. They staggered, clutching at shallow wounds, but before they could press the attack, a creeping numbness spread through their limbs.
“What… what did you do to us?” one of the hunters gasped as his vision began to blur. His skin took on a faint green tint, and dark veins appeared, pulsing ominously.
Anastasia smiled, her expression darkening. “Poison,” she replied smoothly. “To be more specific, you’re under the effects of my ability, Yadovity Dar. The poison now flowing through you is potent enough to incapacitate you for a day. Don’t worry—you’ll wake up eventually.”
One by one, the hunters fell to the ground, groaning and gasping before the poison took hold and left them unconscious. Anastasia’s smile grew colder as she watched them fall, the faint green glow of her aura flickering around her like an ominous mist.
Anastasia strolled over to the bounty hunters’ boss, her footsteps measured and deliberate. She fixed him with a mocking smile. “Are you just going to cower there while I handle your men so easily? Pathetic.”
The man’s face twisted with rage, and he lunged at her in a blind fury. Anastasia sidestepped effortlessly, her movements fluid as she brought one of her poisoned daggers across his arm in a swift slash. He stumbled back, clutching his arm as a dull, burning pain radiated from the wound.
Groaning, he barely had time to process what was happening before Anastasia closed the distance between them. With one smooth motion, she drove her palm up into his chin, the force snapping his head back and knocking several teeth loose. He reeled, his vision going hazy, and collapsed onto the floor with a muffled groan.
In a desperate attempt to redeem himself, the bounty hunter lunged his blade at Anastasia’s head, aiming for a clean decapitation. But Anastasia merely raised her hand. The moment the blade struck her palm, it bent, metal crumpling as though it were paper, leaving the man utterly speechless.
Without a hint of haste, Anastasia seized his wrist, twisting it with a bone-snapping crunch. His scream pierced the tavern, yet Anastasia remained unfazed. She pulled him close, delivering a powerful punch to his gut that sent blood spewing from his mouth. With fluid precision, she spun, following up with a roundhouse kick that whipped his head to the floor, his skull smacking the stone in a brutal echo.
Not finished, Anastasia continued her assault, pounding him to a pulp with her bare hands. Each strike thudded with calculated precision as the poison from her earlier dagger strikes seeped deeper into his veins, sapping his strength, tormenting his body.
As she finally stepped back, surveying the battered bounty hunter and his defeated comrades scattered across the tavern floor, she leaned down, her voice cold and unyielding. "Consider this a warning," she said, eyes gleaming with a terrifying resolve. "If I ever see you in this nation again—or hear of you harassing anyone—you won’t live to see your loved ones. And if you do, they'll receive nothing but your head."
The bounty hunter nodded, trembling in pain and fear, before his eyes rolled back, consciousness slipping away.
Anastasia turned to the tavern’s owner, who stood frozen, fear etched across his face. She approached him calmly, hands open in a gesture of peace, her demeanor a striking contrast to the chaos behind her.
"I apologize for the damage," she said, producing a pouch heavy with gold coins. "This should cover any repairs and more."
The owner’s fear quickly morphed into greed, his eyes gleaming as he clutched the sack. "No need to apologize, Miss! Those thugs deserved it, and you handled them beautifully!"
Anastasia offered a polite smile and a slight bow before turning to Xavier, who was staring at her in utter shock.
“We should be on our way, Young Master,” she said gently, despite the small splatter of blood on her cheek that clearly wasn’t her own.
Xavier’s mouth hung open, his usual composure shattered. Finally, he managed a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Uh... yeah! Just, uh, got lost in thought. Haha!"
Anastasia chuckled, nodding. "Shall we?"
As they exited the tavern, Alcmena, perched on Xavier’s shoulder, grinned. "I told you so."
Xavier chuckled awkwardly. "You did."
The bustling streets of Saint Petersburg greeted them as they stepped outside. Xavier, his curiosity finally overwhelming his shock, looked at Anastasia with excitement. "Miss Anastasia, how did you get so strong? I knew you were gifted, but this... this is something else!"
Anastasia smiled, a hint of pride shining through. "I’ve always been strong, Young Master. I’m just not usually required to show it.”
Xavier’s face lit up. "I’m glad to have someone as incredible as you by my side!"
She laughed softly, clearly flattered. "Thank you, Young Master. I’m still adjusting to my new life, as a fellow servant of the Ivanovich family".
“Wait… were you always a maid?” Xavier asked, the thought striking him suddenly. “Because if I remember correctly, Head Buttler Viktor Mirovich mentioned you’ve been with the family since you were young.”
Anastasia’s expression softened, a flicker of nostalgia in her eyes. “You’re right—I have been with the Ivanovich family for quite some time. But no, I wasn’t originally born into service, unlike many of my colleagues.” She hesitated, then added with a faint smile, “But that’s a long story—probably not interesting enough to bore you with."
Xavier immediately protested. "Not interesting? Are you kidding? I need to know!"
Alcmena chimed in, smiling. "Yes, Lady Anastasia, we’re all ears."
Anastasia hesitated, a faint blush coloring her cheeks before she relented. "Alright, alright. If you insist. It’s a long story, so let’s start from the beginning…"
Xavier raised his fists triumphantly. "Yes!"
Anastasia took a deep breath, her gaze steady as she prepared to unveil the past that had shaped her.