Chapter 137

Chapter 137

That very night, an unwelcome visitor did infiltrate the Pedelian camp. Nix remained in low spirits as he had been unceremoniously bound and gagged inside one of the carriages since the outset of their journey. Just as Roxana had promised, he had in fact been taken out of the Blue castle dungeon, but he had no way of knowing where to.

Blind hope would have him believe he was being returned to Vertium, but common sense told him he was being tricked. Thus, he had chosen to place all of his focus on watching for any chance to escape. The only problem was that he could sense there were far too many guards charged with watching his mobile prison cell. With every Blue knight on high alert and keeping such a close eye on his location, his lack of optimism was understandable.

The guards all seemed to have been informed that he was a doll, and therefore didn’t have any bodily functions. Thus, he spent the entirety of his captivity with the Blue clan without a soul bothering to check on his well-being. What’s more, he hadn’t been able to see their princess or Roxana again since being shuttled away. The only key player he would catch a glimpse of from time to time during the trip was the Blue Heir. And try as he might to toss and turn to at least find a less uncomfortable position, he found no such relief.

Night was already settling in around them. He was certain he must be the only one still up at that hour, but then his carriage door opened without hardly any sound. It was done so quietly that even as the moonlight peeked through the crack to meet his eyes, he couldn’t be sure the door was in fact opening.

“Huh?”

Once he finally realized what was happening, Nix spoke into the darkness with his shocked, yet youthful voice. He couldn’t imagine who would come to check on him at such a late hour. The intruder stood in the small opening, but the moonlight framing him from behind made it nearly impossible to make out his features.

The puppet had the eerie impression that the dark behemoth before him was the sort of huge, powerful man whose very presence struck immeasurable fear into the hearts of those who encountered him. Even his jet-black hair seemed to be absorbing every ray of light that was attempting to peek around him.

Enough light did manage to reflect off the sides of the carriage interior to shine over his crimson eyes. It was then that Nix could see the figure was glaring down at him with unbridled ferocity.

The moment their eyes met, both the puppet and the man seemed to stop breathing.

The wind blew through the trees in the distance and cut through the two’s silent staring match. At the mere sight of Nix, Deon began to question whether he was possibly hallucinating. In truth, he had been observing the Pedelians from the shadows even before they stopped to set up camp.

It was during his surveillance that he had caught a glimpse of the golden hair he could never mistake from even a mile away. However, that had been the only clue he had to go on, thus he waited until the camp had fallen quiet before coming forward to check on the apparent captive. Yet while the individual he had discovered did in fact have the very same blond hair he had been searching for, someone he never would have imagined to see again in this plain of existence stared up at him.

He was certain he was hallucinating or that he had encountered a ghost as a familiar blue eye peered up at him wide with shock. It had been years and years since he had last seen that face, yet to his own surprise, Deon had never forgotten a single one of its features. It was almost as if Achille’s image had been seared onto his retinas. As grim as that was, it did seem fitting since his brother had been the very first person he had ever killed.

“A... Achille?” Deon’s raspy, low voice whispered into the darkness.

All the while, Nix had been cowering in fear. The moment seemed to drag on for him like a scene from a horrific play where he had been cast as the hapless victim. He was having such difficulty breathing that had he looked down to see that a snake had slithered up from the ground to strangle his neck, he might have felt relief. His instinct was to scream wildly for help, but his tongue simply wouldn’t cooperate.

All he could do was tremble as he shut his eyes and lips against the unknown source of his dread. He felt his entire being freeze up as if he had been cast into a frozen pond and was sinking into the cold, wet abyss like a forlorn pebble. He was lost in a storm of emotions he couldn’t quite understand the reason for.

In that ongoing moment, the two continued to gaze at one another as both the past and present bound them together. After some time, the Agrece was the first to break eye contact. Without realizing what he was doing, he reached a hand out toward the still-frozen puppet.

There seemed to be no motive in his movement other than to ascertain whether or not the figure before him was in fact a hallucination or even a specter. The sudden encroachment into what little distance he had seemed to shake the puppet from his fear-induced daze, and he scrambled to cower in the furthest corner of the carriage like a rat withdrawing from a starving snake.

Just as Deon’s dark hand was about to make contact with the puppet, he felt a malicious gust of air at his back and immediately moved out of the way of a potentially lethal blow. Had he ducked even a fraction of a second later, he supposed he would have lost his entire arm instead of just the part of his sleeve that hadn’t been as fortunate and fell pitifully to the ground.

“I see you’ve finally turned up, Deon Agrece.”

The moonlight cast a painfully bright reflection off the edge of the sharp sword that had only moments ago come down over him. Deon’s crimson eyes immediately took on a fierce glow as golden orbs bore down on him like shards of jagged glass shattering into even tinier glittering pieces that threatened to slice fine lines into the Agrece’s pale flesh.

The tension in the air was almost palpable. Deon stepped back from the carriage while deliberating how he should proceed. He had actually been en route to Pedelian after leaving Vertium and only began to tail their caravan when he happened upon their procession toward the neutral territory. Had he not caught sight of the blond hair, he imagined he would not have remained in the shadows for as long as he had and instead seized the opportunity to infiltrate the Blue fortress.

He was growing more annoyed with each passing second since all of his efforts did not yield Roxana, but instead the discovery of some questionable replica of the slain Achille.

“So you set a trap for me, huh?”

Cassis had in fact told the guards stationed outside of Nix’s carriage to stand down. As if the ease with which he had managed to approach the mobile prison was not obvious enough, it was then that Deon realized he should have pondered more seriously why he hadn’t seen any of his sister’s butterflies in the area.

“I wouldn’t call it a trap, per se...” The Pedelian shrugged at the baseless accusation. “It’s not like we intended to catch you. You crawled out of whichever rock you were supposed to die under all on your own.”

Cassis cast a cold, desolate smile at him for good measure. From the moment he had received word that Deon had set out for the Gold lands, he had presumed his objective was to get to Roxana.

Now that they were facing off, Cassis could have signaled his men for assistance, but he decided against it. All the while, the Agrece was trying his best to piece together what he had learned throughout his travels to reach the most reasonable conclusion.

“So that thing... is the Vertium puppet?” Deon’s razor-sharp gaze turned to look back at Nix’s folded and trembling figure in the corner of the carriage. I admit its likeness to Achille is truly remarkable. Even that scar on its left eye is identical to the one I gave him, but still... How did it fall under Pedelian control?

“It is also the real Achille Agrece.”

Despite Cassis’ uncharacteristically helpful add-on, Deon simply could not grasp what the other man was saying. Moreover, he had more pressing matters to see to than care about some poorly designed doll.

“Where’s Roxana?”

Hearing her name leave his enemy’s lips made the air around Cassis feel as though it had abruptly dropped several degrees. On top of that, his opponent had taken on a violent and ferocious stance as if the very fact that he had to resort to asking the Blue Heir of all people about his own sister was loathsome.

“What could possibly compel me to provide you with that information?” Cassis asked.

As the night wind blew about them, the sensation gave the impression that it had been laced with icy thorns by some sadistic spirit. Spring had actually come already, yet the weather that day left many wondering if they might still be stuck in the dead of winter. The chill in the air was reminiscent of the last night they had met in the Black mansion only months prior. Two roaring gusts seemed to swirl violently about them as if preparing to swallow whichever man fell first whole.

“Listen, Agrece. And I mean really listen because I need you to get this through your thick skull. It is not your place to ask such questions.”

The two men glared each other down with almost lethal ferocity.

“In fact, if anyone should be asking questions here, it’s me. Why exactly are you after her anyway?”

Despite their clear readiness to lunge at one another, they held themselves back as if invisible leashes were around their necks. Of course, how long their patience would hold out remained to be seen.

“How amusing.” Deon’s sneer was visible even under the moonlight. “And why do you think I would ever answer a question of yours?”

With the moon’s stark whiteness shining over their heads, the manic glints in their eyes seemed to charge their every word with malice.

“Very well.” Although Cassis’ expression resembled a glacier in its frigidity, it seemed to be concealing a volcano-like eruption beneath the surface. “After all, it’s not as though you and I are close enough to waste time on useless banter.”

Clang!

The two flung themselves at one another just as he finished speaking. Their swords sent blinding sparks bursting into the air as they clashed.