Completely embarrassed, Remus ran away in shame and festering resentment. The crowd parted in hushed whispers, while the glowing blue-fire blade in Adrian’s hand flickered briefly before fading into harmless wisps of light, and he straightened, exhaling slowly. What a waste of time. All that bluster, and for what?

“Well, that was... eventful.” Natasha said. Her tone was dry, but there was an unmistakable sense of satisfaction beneath it.

"Too eventful, actually. I think I've had enough for one night." Adrian said, sighing.

“Then let’s get out of here. The last thing we need is to stand around while everyone gawks.”

“Agreed, I want to go somewhere quieter."

Natasha led him toward a quieter alcove near the edge of the ballroom, where the noise faded to a dull hum. Adrian leaned against the wall, dragging a hand through his hair. “What’s his problem? I barely know the guy, and he’s acting like I insulted his entire family.”

Natasha gave a soft, humorless laugh. “Remus is a Blythe, all of them have over inflated egos for what they are."

"Blythe? I'm assuming that's a family name."

"Exactly, the Blythe's are a reasonably powerful family here in South Tusk, of course, they're only ever going to play second fiddle so long as the Whitewynn's are around."

"Are… the Blythes rivals with the Whitewynn's?"

"Please, Adrian, that would imply we're anywhere close to them."

"Well, it at least seemed like Remus thought he was close with you." Adrian said, chuckling slightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Do not joke about that. He's been annoying me for years, but I could never get him off my back no matter how many times I rejected him. He's delusional."

Adrian snorted softly. “Delusional’s an understatement. He challenged me to a duel in the middle of a ballroom. Who does that?”

“Remus, apparently.” Natasha shrugged. “He thrives on spectacle. But don’t take him lightly, the Blythe's are known to be the vengeful sort, you might get some… 'visits' from their thugs during and after this ball."

Adrian rubbed the back of his neck. “Great. Just what I needed.”

“Don’t worry, I'll help you out if things escalate."

“Thanks, but given what you said, I really just want to get out of this place."

"Eh, sure. Not like I enjoyed being here that much anyway."

"Great, then why don't we—"

Suddenly, Adrian straightened from where he leaned against the wall as he noticed several men in sharp suits approaching them. The emblems of a snake coiled over a sword were visibly embroidered on their lapels.

Natasha noticed them too as she uncrossed her arms, stepping slightly in front of Adrian as the men halted a few feet away. “Do you have business with me?”

One of the men, a tall figure with slicked-back hair bowed slightly. “Miss Whitewynn, our business is not with you, but with the young man by your side.”

“Who are you people?" Adrian asked.

The man straightened into a humorless smile. “We are representatives of the Blythe family. Our master, Romulus Blythe, has requested your presence.”

"Romulus?" Adrian’s brow furrowed in confusion. Another Blythe? As if dealing with one wasn’t enough.

Before he could respond, Natasha let out an audible sigh. “Romulus is Remus’s older brother, and let me guess, he wants to play the big bad to clean up his brother’s mess.”

The men said nothing, their silence confirming her words. Yet, Adrian crossed his arms, his unease growing. “I’m not going anywhere until someone explains why this Romulus wants to see me.”

The lead man’s smile thinned. “Master Romulus does not explain himself to the likes of you. Consider this an honor, boy.”

“Adrian isn’t going anywhere. If Romulus wants him, he can go through my father first. I’m sure you’re well aware of what that entails.” Natasha said.

The man’s expression darkened, his hand brushing against his side. “This isn’t a request, Miss Whitewynn.”

Several of the men shifted, their hands moving to hidden weapons: a flash of steel from a concealed switchblade, the faint hiss of a cane sword unsheathing. Of course, Adrian wasn't actually afraid of any of the Blythe family's lap dogs, though he did have other concerns. This situation could get out of hand. Even if I deal with these thugs here, the Blythe Family will likely escalate matters and drag Lysander and Natasha into this mess too.

Natasha opened her mouth, likely to unleash another sharp retort, but Adrian raised a hand. Considering my strength, I should be able to deal with whatever the Blythes' throw at me. In the event things go south, I'll use my signature spell.

“It’s fine."

“What do you mean fine?"

Adrian gave her a small, reassuring nod. “I’ll go with them.”

“Have you lost your mind? You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Just think about it, Natasha. Sure, we could fight them off now, but that'll only escalate things. They only want me, so if I go with them, you and Lysander won't be pulled into all of this."

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze flitting between him and the men. “And you think waltzing into their trap is going to make everything better?"

Adrian shrugged, his expression calm but resolute. “If this Romulus is doing this for Remus’s sake, then fine. I’ll deal with him directly. Better to cut through the theatrics now than let it drag out.” Besides, if they think I’m going to just roll over, they’re in for a rude awakening.

Natasha hesitated, then placed a hand on his arm. “Adrian, you’re strong, but it's best if you don't underestimate the Blythes, and Romulus is much more cunning than his idiot brother.”

He met her gaze, offering a faint smile. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

***

Adrian followed the men through the winding corridors of the grand building. The air grew heavier as they approached a large set of carved wooden doors. One of the men pushed them open, revealing a spacious room.

It was vast, with high ceilings and walls covered in elaborate tapestries depicting scenes of serpents coiled around thrones and weaponry. At its center stood a long, imposing table crafted from dark, polished wood, reflecting the light of a chandelier overhead. At the far end of the table, a lone figure sat with a posture so relaxed it bordered on insolent.

Adrian’s gaze landed on the boy, who looked no older than his late teens. His shoulder-length blonde hair framed a face that was handsome, sharp, and unnervingly calm. He wore a striking red jacket adorned with the Blythe family’s sigil: a serpent coiled around a sword.

The boy’s lips curved into a smile: smooth, practiced, and painfully polite. Yet beneath that polished facade lurked an edge sharp enough to cut. Adrian could feel it, like the hum of tension in the air before a storm. That smile... he’s testing me, measuring me.

“Sit,” one of the men ordered, gesturing to a high-backed chair near the center of the table.

Adrian’s gaze flicked to the blonde boy, whose smile hadn’t faltered. I don't like him.

Soon, Adrian settled into the offered seat, leaning back just enough to look at ease. Just stay calm, don't show any sign of weakness.

“Comfortable?” The boy asked, his tone containing an annoying combination of inflated ego and condescension.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Working on it.”

“Good. I’d hate for you to feel out of place. After all, you’re the guest of honor.”

“Funny,” Adrian said, his tone laced with dry humor. “Doesn’t feel much like a celebration.”

“Perhaps we just have different tastes in festivities.” The boy leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers, studying Adrian with open interest. “Tell me, was it worth it?”

“Was what worth it?”

“Oh, you know. Whatever you did to earn the whispers. People don’t tell stories about someone ordinary.”

Adrian’s gaze didn’t waver, though his pulse quickened. He’s playing games, probing for weaknesses. I’m not about to give him any.

“I try not to get caught up in gossip, it’s rarely accurate.”

“A pragmatic answer. How refreshing.”

“You know what would be more refreshing? If you stop talking in circles and started getting to the point."

“Ah, introductions,” the boy said, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. “How rude of me. Romulus Blythe, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Adrian.”

The room seemed to grow colder as Romulus’s name settled in the air, his eyes locking onto Adrian’s with an unsettling intensity. Despite the cordial smile still on his lips, there was no mistaking the malice beneath it. If he thinks I’m going to flinch or grovel, he’s in for a long night.

Romulus tilted his head slightly, studying Adrian like one might examine a rare artifact. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. It’s rare for someone to leave such an impression on my dear younger brother. Rare, indeed.”

Adrian’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “I doubt it was anything flattering.”

Romulus chuckled softly. “Oh, on the contrary. You’ve proven… memorable.”

Adrian leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “Then let’s skip the formalities, Romulus. What do you want?”

The older boy leaned back in his chair as he laughed, the sound soft but cutting. “Relax, Adrian,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re so tense. I just want to talk. Nothing more.”

“Right, it doesn’t feel like talking is your goal here. Feels more like you want to interrogate me.”

“Interrogate? What a harsh word. No, no, you’ve misunderstood me entirely. I’ve prepared a fine welcome for you, but, alas, the staff are running behind schedule. Quite unprofessional of them.”

Adrian didn’t respond immediately. A fine welcome?

Moments later, the doors to the room swung open, and several staff members entered, carrying trays laden with food and ornate bottles of drink. The table was quickly turned into a banquet as the staff placed roast meats, fresh fruits, golden loaves of bread, and crystal decanters of wine. The staff moved efficiently, placing everything before retreating silently.

Romulus clapped his hands once. “Ah, much better. Now, Adrian, help yourself. Consider this my hospitality at its finest.”

Adrian glanced at the feast but made no move to touch it. “Thank you, but I’ll pass." No chance I’m trusting anything he puts in front of me.

Romulus’s eyes narrowed briefly, but the smile on his face barely faltered. “Nonsense, you’re my guest. It would be rude not to partake.”

Adrian shook his head slightly. “I appreciate the gesture, really, but I’m not hungry.”

Romulus’s smile tightened, and for the first time, a flicker of annoyance darted across his face. But just as quickly, he forced it back into place. “Well then, in that case, I’ll indulge first.”

Romulus reached for a glass of deep red wine and a piece of meat, cutting into it delicately with a practiced hand. He took a bite, chewing slowly as his eyes flicked back to Adrian. “So, Adrian, tell me, where are you from?”

“South Tusk,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. Better to keep Marcus and Anisa out of this. If he’s planning anything, he doesn’t need more ammunition.

Romulus nodded, taking another sip of wine. “And what do you think of my dear brother, Remus?”

Adrian hesitated for only a moment before replying, “I’m indifferent.”

Romulus’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Indifferent, you say? I can respect that. I do hope, however, that you don’t think too poorly of our family after your... encounter with him. He hasn't yet grown out of his hotheaded phase."

"I understand. It’s clear the Blythe family takes its reputation seriously, and I respect that you’re addressing things.”

“Ah, speaking of reputation, do you know the history of the Blythes?” Romulus asked suddenly, leaning forward slightly.

Adrian blinked, caught off guard by the shift in topic. “I don’t.”

“Then allow me to enlighten you,” Romulus said, setting down his glass. “The Blythe family’s story begins with our founder, Lucian Blythe, a visionary and a conqueror. In his time, this land was nothing but fractured territories, each ruled by petty lords. Lucian united them, not with brute force alone, but with cunning. He struck alliances, waged calculated wars, and crushed his enemies quickly.”

The more Romulus recounted the tale, the more his voice grew animated. Adrian listened with outward politeness, nodding occasionally, though his thoughts drifted. Why is he doing this? Is this supposed to intimidate me? Impress me? Maybe both. Either way, it’s a waste of time.

Romulus finally paused. “You’re not really listening, are you?”

Adrian straightened, forcing a look of mild surprise. “Of course I am.”

“That’s the fourth time you’ve lied to me during this conversation.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Romulus leaned back and let out an eerily wide smile. “Ridiculous? Perhaps. But I’m not angry, Adrian. On the contrary, I’m grateful.”

Adrian frowned slightly. “Grateful for what?”

Romulus placed his hands lightly on the table.“The Blythes have always had an eye for liars. It’s in our blood. But me? I’m particularly good at spotting them.”

“Don’t do something you’ll regret, Romulus,” Adrian said.

Romulus didn’t flinch. Instead, he chuckled, the sound low and unnervingly casual, like a predator toying with its prey. “Oh, Adrian,” he said, voice dripping with mockery as he straightened to his full height. “It’s far too late for regrets. The Eater of Sins has arrived.”

Adrian’s pulse quickened as the room shuddered, faint tremors rippling through the air like a held breath before an explosion. The vibrations surged, building into violent quakes. The ground beneath him lurched, nearly throwing him off balance. He staggered, one hand shooting out to brace against the wall. What is this?

Across the room, the wall opposite him writhed like a living thing, the smooth surface distorting in unnatural waves. Tendrils of darkness spread across it, like ink bleeding across paper. The chill in the air deepened, wrapping around Adrian like icy chains. Each breath felt heavier, suffocating and unrelenting.

The creature emerged fully, its form cloaked in writhing shadows that dripped and pooled at its feet like living tar. Its hunched back was covered by a tattered gray cloak that clung to its form, shredded edges swaying as if caught in an unseen breeze. The face beneath the hood was obscured entirely, a void darker than the surrounding shadows.

Its hands, long and clawed, grasped a sword of pure gold. The weapon glowed faintly, a cruel, mocking beauty that pulsed with malevolence. Each step the creature took left inky footprints that hissed and dissipated like smoke.

Cold sweat beaded from Adrian's forehead as he realized what had just happened. I should have known!

The Eater of Sins lunged forward, its golden sword slashing through the air with a speed that belied its hunched, monstrous frame. Adrian threw himself to the side, his flames roaring to life around him as he countered with a burst of blue fire aimed directly at the creature’s chest. The flames struck true, but the creature’s sword rose effortlessly, deflecting the flames like a shield, scattering sparks across the room.

That bastard Romulus must have been preparing his signature spell the entire time we were talking, and this so-called "Eater of Sins" must be the product of his spell. Adrian thought, narrowing his eyes.

With each step the creature took, the oppressive chill in the room deepened, gnawing at Adrian's focus. He sidestepped another strike, the blade slicing a fine line through the air where he’d just stood.

Adrian's own blue flames danced at his hands, flaring as he swung back with precision, aiming for the shadowy form’s side.The creature twisted, its golden weapon meeting his flames with a resounding clang. It’s strong too. Great.

To break the stalemate, he inhaled deeply, his chest swelling with raw energy, and then unleashed a torrent of fire from his mouth. The blazing stream roared across the room, enveloping the Eater of Sins in radiant heat and searing light.

The creature let out an unearthly shriek as the fire consumed it, its form dissolving into ash and shadows. The golden sword clattered to the ground before evaporating into mist.

Adrian straightened, wiping sweat from his brow. “Got any more tricks left?”

Romulus’s lips curled into a smug grin. “Oh, I wouldn’t celebrate just yet. Watch your back.”

Adrian turned sharply, just in time to see the Eater of Sins emerge from the ground, its golden blade swinging toward him in a vicious arc. He twisted his body, the blade grazing his side as he just barely rolled away, the heat of the near-miss leaving a burning sting on his skin.

It’s back. Of course, it’s back. He pushed himself up, flames igniting once more. He darted around the room, keeping his movements erratic as the creature pursued him relentlessly.

The Eater of Sins lunged again, but Adrian ducked low, channeling his flames into a sword of his own, the blade flickering with bright blue light. And as the creature overextended, Adrian pivoted and drove the flaming weapon into its stomach with all his strength.

The creature shrieked once more, its form shuddering violently as blue fire engulfed it. This time, Adrian pressed forward, the flames intensifying until the creature dissolved into nothingness.

Adrian staggered back, his chest heaving. That's one—

He barely had time to recover before Romulus moved. The Blythe heir closed the distance between them in an instant, red jacket billowing as he struck. Adrian blocked the first blow, but a flurry of punches and kicks followed, forcing Adrian to retreat.

Romulus’s palm struck Adrian square in the chest, sending him crashing against the wall. Pain shot through Adrian’s back as he hit the cold marble, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs. Damn it, he can actually fight.

He pushed himself up, flames sputtering weakly at his hands. Before he could stand, the floor rippled again, dark shadows pooling beneath him. The Eater of Sins reformed with unnerving speed, its golden sword plunging into Adrian’s stomach before he could react. H-how?

Agony lanced through him, his blue flames flickering out as blood stained the edges of the blade. Adrian gasped, his vision blurring as he crumpled to the ground.

Romulus crouched beside him. “Sleep well, Adrian, and do me a favor, don’t wake up too early."

Adrian’s consciousness slipped away, the last thing he saw was Romulus standing over him, his grin as sharp and cold as the darkness that swallowed him whole. Not… like this.