Upon entering, my boots tapped audaciously against the floor of polished obsidian. The opulent crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling swayed slightly to the tempo of the raging powers outside, their flickering flames mirrored in a horrifically twisted manner in the shining obsidian. It was as if the flames were erupting from the floor in corrupt, black tendrils that curled and flicked with a sort of hungry randomness.

The chandeliers reminded me of my castle back in Aedronir, masterpiece artworks of crystals cut to perfection. The crystals magnified and illuminated the fires within, filling the lavish banquet hall with a dazzling array of light and color.

The walls were draped in heavy, luxurious tapestries woven with an intricate mix of silver and gold, depicting battles unknown to me. Where there were no tapestries, floor-to-ceiling glass windows allowed an incredible amount of moonlight to enter the room. My Core thrummed with pleasure under the rising moon, its power washing over me much as the night’s cool air had refreshed my lungs.

At the far end of the hall, a raised dais housed the head table carved out of heavy black wood that, to me, smelled of death. The table was polished and smoothed, glistening under the light of the crystal chandeliers. Plush, velvet chairs with high backs and silver embroidery snaked along their entirety, forming what looked like an insignia of some sort.

Before the dais, long tables of similarly polished black wood stretched out, laden with hundreds of different foods and drinks, many of which I had never seen before, much less tasted. After spending so much time in the dungeons, the smell was utterly intoxicating. I ignored the confused stares and shouts of outrage from the nobles as I came into their view, heading over to the table of delicacies.

Two guards in red uniforms jumped out from the corners where they’d stood guard, one with a sword and shield, the other with the weirdly curved stick I’d seen outside. I barely paid them any heed as Nida and Nasq surged past me to intercept. The first guard barely had time to gasp before Nida’s silver spear, I wasn’t sure where she’d picked it up from, slammed into his chest, and emerged from his back. Nasq’s victim died much worse, as a circle of shadows opened up below the soldier’s feet and sucked him into whatever the abyss was. I didn’t know what Nasq had done, but I suspected it was some type of magic. That seemed accurate considering his class was a High Sorcerer, though I would need to have a discussion with him about what that class meant.

I continued to the pastry table and snatched up a petal-shaped pastry about the size of my thumb. It shimmered with an otherworldly luminescence that reminded me of a full moon’s beauty and power. I examined it for a moment, in awe at its translucent shade of pale blue and iridescent edges. It was thin and delicate between my fingers, and when I ate it, it had a velvety texture that all but melted on my tongue. A symphony of flavors released all at once, like an orchestra on my palate.

I memorized the look of the treat and promised myself that I would find out what they were later.

With a sigh of great satisfaction and a final lick of my fingers, I turned to face the tittering crowd of fancy, pompous nobles. The outrage on their faces was only equal to the pure disdain on mine. Considering my understanding of noble society, it was incredibly surprising they had not given up at least the Slave Master. The cardinal I understood since she was a religious figure and no one wanted to be the pariah of their religious community. And the baron…well, that was a little harder to understand since he was just a lowly noble, but perhaps that was more prestigious in this city than it was in my mind.

The Slave Master, however, should have been less important than even a merely wealthy merchant. Why would they risk their lives by not kicking him out of the banquet hall?

Possible answers ran through my mind as I glared at each of the present nobility. Fortunately, they were all here, so I didn’t really have to think about it. I could just ask. Part of me was tempted to simply eviscerate the lot of them until the three I sought were all that was left. And I probably would have if I believed violence was the best choice to achieve my desired result.

It wasn’t. Not yet. Nobles were individuals of pride and honor, or they pretended to be in any case. A few well-placed insults would do a lot more to uncover where my prey hid than random violence would, especially since the group of aristocrats had already refused to present the three to me.

“Where is the Slave Master, Coldrun?” I asked pointedly, morphing my expression from one of satisfaction at the pastry to one of bored disdain.

“He is not here,” a tall man snarled, tugging at the lapel of his fine jacket as if to straighten his already upright posture. His hair, clearly once a fairly rich ebony, now bore streaks of silver that did more to benefit and frame his sharp aristocratic features than distract from them. The most notable thing about the man, however, was his viridian green eyes which said much more about his intellect than his crude tone.

“I did not ask if he was here,” I corrected, switching my expression to one of casual annoyance. Despite my words, I continued to scan the crowd for a man that fit my image. I silently cursed myself for not asking Chella or Dralos to scout out more information about the man.

The green-eyed noble blinked a few times, taken aback as he was likely not used to being spoken to without any sense of formality.

“You cannot speak to him that way, disgusting slave,” a woman hissed, waving at me as if I were a bug that would fly away if she mimed swatting at it. “He is an earl. Even if you are a slave, show some respect to the man of highest rank here.”

“My word,” I said with mock indignation, enunciating my words in an elongated fashion like the woman and man had. “Romeo, it appears that the lady is inappropriately intoxicated.”

“I am no such thing,” the woman hissed, her blonde curls that drooped to her shoulders bouncing with each syllable as she punctuated her words with emphasis.

I nodded. “An imbecile, then. One who is unable to hold her tongue in matters greater than her limited intelligence.”

The woman’s eyes widened in anger, shock, and no small amount of embarrassment. But the man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and though she appeared as if she wanted to charge me, her shoulders dropped. If only slightly.

“We do not know where he is,” the earl responded, still holding the woman’s shoulder.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“That is quite a lie,” I said, not really sure if it was. “Since I can sense him in the vicinity.” That was also a lie. I didn’t even know what the man’s heart energy signature would feel like. With a feigned sigh, I turned back to the pastry table and took another one of the delicious petals. Before I took a bite, I looked at the man almost dismissively. “I will allow you to avoid shaming your house if that is your fear. In fact, I will give you the opportunity to place many others here in your debt.” The last was said to the room, my eyes wandering to meet the gaze of a handful of nobles. “I will not move from this spot, as I am quite famished. When one of you decides to share with me the location of Baron Silverwater, the Red Cardinal, or the Slave Master, I will reward you and four others with the freedom to live. You can go away, and I will not stop you.”

“No one will step forward,” a younger voice of noble intonation spoke from somewhere in the hall. I didn’t bother looking.

“Perhaps,” I said with a shrug, taking another bite of the petal. “However, for every thirty seconds that no one comes forward, I will kill someone at random.” A second of silence before shouts of obscenity erupted and I laughed. Despite the rampaging of battle outside their little sanctuary, it was obvious they had never believed their own lives to be at stake. Such was the benefit of nobility, even in Ordite. The value of ransoming nobles generally outweighed the usefulness of their deaths.

“Enough,” the earl said, stepping forward ahead of the crowd. “I have entertained your threats long enough, young woman. Do you truly think we do not fear the combat outside the banquet halls because we are naive?” When I didn’t answer he continued, his upright posture suddenly seeming less afraid and more military. “Those of us in these walls are not defenseless. Guards, for most of us, are simply formalities.”

“Fifteen seconds left,” I said, finishing off a third petal. Nasq and Nida moved ahead to stand between me and the approaching earl. Unlike me, both of my Paragons stood over six feet, matching the earl in both height and intensity.

That unfamiliar stirring of magic began to swirl in many of the nobles at my threat, and a few began to circulate some coreless heart energy. Even with whatever strength they would gain from magic mixed in, I remained appalled at the level of strength of the nobles.

“Five seconds.”

A handful of personal guards wearing the standard red uniform tore into the room, likely running from wherever their standby station had been after being alerted to our presence. I doubted they were here specifically because of me—rather, I was fairly certain what the nobles here feared the most was the roars of the Berserker outside, not the ominous words of a girl who appeared no older than her mid-teens.

That would soon change.

“Zero.” As the number left my lips, a bright white spear of condensed lunar attribute heart energy condensed around my fingers and surged at the woman who the earl had calmed. Her face paled as she shielded herself with magic. The earl shouted something, reaching over to cover her with his magic and coreless heart energy.

Their defensive measures did nothing against the raw power of heart energy refined in a silver-level Core. My lunar energy tore through their shields like they were nothing, puncturing the woman through her throat and tearing out the back. In her death, the woman made not a sound, nor shriek.

She fell to the ground, eyes wide and full of fear.

I picked up another petal, this one with a bit of yellow coloring in it. “Thirty seconds.”

The earl shouted, his face contorting with a look of utter disbelief and pure hatred. “Dia!” He crouched to her side, tears streaming down his face as he turned his glare to me. “Do you have any idea who you just killed?”

“You see,” I said with another sigh, flicking some crumbs off my torn shirt. “This is why those of the aristocracy are deemed by so many to be useless.” I motioned toward myself and the five others who had joined me. “There are six of us, and none of you even bothered to fight us. Why? Fear?” With a nod, I indicated toward Romeo. “Two of us are children. What is there to fear against children? Or is it not fear?” Within a few steps, I was within arm's reach of the earl and I bent down to look at the dead woman. “Perhaps it is the excitement you are filled with. Eagerness for bloodshed? If not, why wait?” The earl attempted to move, likely to reach for the scabbard sheathing his sword, but I shifted my heart energy into Authority and bore it down on him like a mountain. “No? Well, then it must be arrogance.” I stood, ignoring the coreless earl and his pathetic magic, turning toward the rest of the nobles and releasing the full force of my Authority on all of them. Even the uniformed guards halted, their muscles unmoving. So weak.

“Ten seconds.”

I kicked the earl over, his muscles locked into place by the fear of my Authority. He fell to his side with a thud, his defenseless head bouncing off the floor with a thud.

“Two.”

I lifted my foot and gently placed it over his head.

“One.”

“Zero.”

The earl’s head splattered under my foot with less resistance than a tomato but with all the red and fluid. When I lowered my foot it squished against the gore and continued to make squeaking sounds as I made my way back to the pastry table.

“What is it about the three of them that holds your loyalties so tight?” I wondered out loud, wiggling my fingers over the tray of petals as I debated which flavor to try. No one else stepped forward, either stunned that a young girl had killed a powerful earl or feared having my attention directed toward them. After deciding on the orange one, I redirected my gaze to an overweight man in ridiculously lavish gold and silver-imbued clothing. “How about you? Where does your loyalty come from?”

Under the sheer pressure of my heart energy, the man’s knees trembled weakly but he managed to mutter an indecipherable answer. I just stared at him until he repeated in a louder voice, “I-i-i am not loyal to a Slave Master, but I would shame my house as a traitor.”

Instead of pressing him, I simply shifted my gaze to the small boy who’d collapsed to the ground at his side and said, “Five seconds.”

With a shout the man fell over the young boy, covering him with his body and I couldn’t help the frown that was starting to etch itself into me. What in the world did the Slave Master have over them?

I, again, raised a finger in the man’s direction, allowing a minuscule amount of lunar energy to condense into a small sphere at the tip of it.

“Zero.”

“Stop!” A woman screamed from the top of a spiral staircase leading to a second floor. The voice was ethereal, equally smooth as it was desperate. I allowed my hand to drop, releasing the condensed energy, and waved my hand for her to approach. That was a voice I would recognize anywhere.

“Ah. Welcome to the party, Madame Red Cardinal,” I said, flourishing a slight bow in her direction and lifting my Authority from the room. “I see even in Sealrite the guests prefer to arrive fashionably late.”

“You must cease your senseless killing,” the woman seemed to plead, but I sensed the invasion of some sort of magic. My Core all but snickered at the attempt, batting it away with ease.

“Senseless? Oh, I don’t believe it to be senseless. I just want some answers. Am I not entitled to some?” I moved away from the man and the boy toward the descending woman. “But I cannot say the Saintess trials you put me through were very well thought out. A seer? Truly? As if that would ever end well.”

At that, the woman paused, her eyes narrowing at me before her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Lady…Lilliana?”

“Do I look that different?”

“How…?” the Cardinal began her eyes expanding with confusion, no doubt trying to match my current appearance with how I’d look prior to the Reformation. Her mouth gaped and I was confident a stream of unrequited questions would follow so I quieted her with a wave before she could so much as open her mouth to ask whatever annoying question she was contemplating.

“That is not for you to be concerned about Cardinal. You are only one of my three desired participants. Two are still missing.”

She said nothing, her eyes cast down but then she lifted them, or, well, still down since she was at least six inches taller than me, but her chin still raised. “If I tell you, do you swear that you will bring no harm to befall the rest of those in this hall?”

“Yes. I swear that if I am presented with both the Silverwater Baron and the Slave Master Coldrun, I will not harm these nobles,” I said.

The Cardinal nodded. “Bring them.”

Naivety and hopefulness truly had a very thick, very invisible line.