Chapter 202
And then, it slowly began to approach Mikael.
“No…!”
Ysaris felt as if her throat were being squeezed shut. She couldn’t even tell if she had actually managed to speak or if the words had choked in her lungs.
Had the world slowed down, or was it Trienne moving deliberately? The black mist touched Mikael’s pale skin, seeping in grain by grain, the sight burning itself into her blue eyes.
The child wailed uncontrollably. Thump, thump. His heart began to race wildly.
“No—!”
Crack.
The ring Lena had given her—the one that had been on Ysaris’s right hand all this time—shattered without anyone noticing. Half of its blue particles were absorbed into her skin, the other half evaporating into the air.
It was in that moment that Ysaris’s scream found its strength.
“NO!!”
Crrrk—!
“…What the hell?”
A sound of something breaking echoed through the room, accompanied by Trienne’s bewildered voice.
Ysaris tried to open her eyes to see what had happened, but before she could, a sudden wave of dizziness buckled her knees.
Thump, thump.
Her heartbeat roared in her ears, deafening. A warm, thick liquid trickled from her nose, but the sensation felt distant, unimportant.
“How did you—… What did—… A purification wielder shouldn’t—… counter—…”
Trienne’s voice buzzed as if she were submerged underwater. Ysaris couldn’t make out a single word. She tried to speak, to demand answers, but all that escaped was a weak, trembling whimper.
“Ngh…!”
Her head hurt. A searing pain, as if someone were digging into her brain with a blade, wracked her entire body.
And in the midst of it—memories.
Jumbled, chaotic fragments of someone else’s past flooded into her. Familiar scenes, familiar faces, familiar situations.
No, this was—this was—
“Would it not be logical, then, to clip your wings and place you in my cage instead, my Empress?”
Her lost memories.
Perhaps it would have been better if they had stayed lost.
* * *
“…Well, this is a problem.”
Trienne clicked his tongue as he stared down at Ysaris, now slumped unconscious on the floor. There was so much to explain, and yet the one responsible for this mess had irresponsibly passed out first.
“What the hell did you even do?”
He flicked a glance at the baby still cradled in his right hand. Mikael had fallen into a peaceful sleep, as if he hadn’t been screaming his lungs out moments ago. If not for the tear tracks staining his cheeks, the entire ordeal might have felt like an illusion.
“Purification abilities shouldn’t have this kind of effect…”
Trienne flexed his left hand repeatedly. The black mist that had once clung thickly to his fingers was gone, leaving only withered, wrinkled skin behind.
Not only that—when he tried to summon dark magic again, nothing happened. He couldn’t tell if this was temporary, localized, or if something had gone fundamentally wrong with him.
Well, a few experiments would clear that up soon enough.
“How interesting.”
Trienne’s lips curled into a grin.
‘Interesting, interesting. Absolutely fascinating.’
His smile stretched unnaturally wide before he suddenly turned his head. At the end of his gaze, one of his subordinates flinched and cautiously spoke up.
“Shall I prepare something for you, my lord?”
“Take out the trash.”
Trienne jerked his chin toward the black-clad men now strewn across the floor like broken dolls.
“We’ll recycle them later.”
“Yes, Lord Trienne.”
The dark mage bowed and began dragging the lifeless bodies out one by one. Meanwhile, Trienne set Mikael down and scooped Ysaris into his arms instead.
‘Ah, my heart races just thinking about the future we’ll share together. If this isn’t love, then what is?’
He chuckled darkly. His already precious test subject had just demonstrated an unprecedented ability—how exciting.
This bloodline needed to be preserved at all costs. He had considered letting her carry another of Tennilath’s heirs, but now? Better to breed her with anyone as soon as possible and observe the results.
“Such a shame.”
Trienne tsked in disappointment as he carried Ysaris toward the bed. If only his reproductive functions were still intact, he would have impregnated her himself—
CRASH.
“Ghk—!”
“Hm?”
Trienne froze mid-step. Before he could even process why his subordinate—the one who had just been diligently following orders—was now embedded in the wall, coughing up blood, an icy killing intent flooded the room.
“Die.”
The blade came faster than the voice—a voice deeper, colder than hell itself.
The Emperor of Crimson Flames, Kazhan, had arrived.
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