Nyx and Karl sat on the nearby couch, the blood, corpses, and chaos from earlier scrubbed clean, leaving behind only the usual polished calm of the manor.
Rhea sat nearby, visibly shaken. She hadn't received an explanation, just a quiet nod from Nyx—nothing more. Only the same haunting silence that had followed him since the killing stopped.
"You sure we should do this, young master?" Karl finally broke the stillness, his voice low. His eyes never left Nyx, watching him like he might erupt again. That earlier bloodlust still echoed in Karl's bones—he hadn't forgotten the pressure Nyx had radiated.
"If we don't…" Nyx murmured, eyes glancing briefly at both Karl and Rhea, "…they will. And…"
He clenched his jaw, shoulders tense, eyes hard.
"I can't let that happen. Not even in hell."
Karl hesitated. He wanted to keep pushing, to reach the boy sitting before him. But that look in Nyx's eyes—serious, unflinching—shut him down before he could speak.
"There'll be no turning back once we step onto this path," Karl warned, a quiet sigh escaping him. "We might have to fight our way through… all the way to the end."
Nyx didn't flinch.
"What more could they possibly take, Karl? We just keep walking. Whether the path's paved with flowers… or blood… we won't know 'til we step."
He gave a crooked smile, but his eyes betrayed him as an unsaid emotion flashed across over it.
Karl caught the slight shift of emotion over his eyes. Regret? Fear? He didn't know.
Nyx stood, breaking the moment. His eyes passed over both of them.
"Get some sleep. The night's long. We'll decide everything tomorrow."
Then he turned to Rhea, her face still pale, her eyes distant. He stopped in front of her, offering a small grin, casual on the surface.
"Thanks for staying hidden. And… sorry about your face."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned and walked away, footsteps soft but final as he disappeared upstairs into his room.
Karl watched him until he vanished from sight.
And then, under his breath, barely more than a whisper, he murmured,
"…Was he… scared?"
---
Although Nyx had told the other two to get some sleep, he himself couldn't. Not even close.
He lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling above him cold, calculating and oddly still.
But every so often—just for a split second—something shifted behind those eyes. A flicker of emotions passed before it turned back to the cold eyes.
Time passed, unknown how much exactly as Nyx sat on his bed.
'Is it really… repeating?'
His thoughts echoed like a whisper in a well.
'Can't you just let me live… once?'
He wasn't speaking to anyone in particular. But his voice—low, bitter—felt like it was trying to pierce through the ceiling, clawing its way to something… someone.
"Sys," he muttered aloud, "how can I break through to that Phase-2 shit you mentioned?"
Nyx needed a way, a catalyst to still surface to the shore when he went astray, and rather than the system, he didn't have a better way.
[Phase-2 cannot be achieved until the requirements are fulfilled.]
Nyx's eye twitched.
"…Why are you suddenly trying to turn into some bargain-bin plot device? Just give me a straight answer instead of this vague story-pacing crap."
He growled, frustration bleeding into his voice.
"Just give me the damn requirements."
Silence.
Then—
[The requirements cannot be revealed. If they are, they will not be fulfilled.]
That made him snap.
"What is this bullshit, huh?!" he snarled, standing now, pacing like a caged beast. "No specific requirements?! And if I hear them, I can't fulfill them? What kind of twisted logic is that? How the hell am I supposed to fight blind?!"
[No comments.]
The System's nonchalant response only pissed him off more. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
"…Huuuuu… Fine. Whatever. Got anything in your twisted little arsenal that is useful right now?"
[Now that's more like it. What do you need, champ? Daddy's got all the goods.]
---
"Show me the possible skills for purchase," Nyx said, his tone settling now that the earlier chaos had finally dulled.
[Be more specific. There are too many.]
"…Bitch. Show me skills related to wind—or any elemental in that category."
[**SHOP**]
Skill Book: Wind Blade – 200 SP
Skill Book: Wind Vortex – 500 SP
Skill Book: Wind Barrier – 800 SP
…
Skill Book: Tempest – 15,000 SP
Skill Book: Wind Manipulation – 50,000 SP
Skill Book: De-Void – 100,000 SP
---
"They all look pretty solid… until you slapped me in the face with those damn prices," Nyx muttered, sighing in defeat as he stared at the last three entries.
"Buy Wind Vortex."
[Why that one? There are better skills for close combat. Something that'd actually complement your swordsmanship.]
"I've got a plan for it," Nyx said, expression firm and eyes focused.
Without another word, he absorbed the skill and leaned back onto the bed, letting the sensation of it integrate into his body. He was just about to drift into some kind of sleep—or at least the illusion of it—when a knock echoed from the door.
He got up and opened it.
Karl stood there, stone-faced, holding a wooden box in both hands. There was a seriousness in his expression that immediately set Nyx on edge.
"What's got you knocking in the middle of the night, Karl?" Nyx asked, eye narrowing—but it wasn't Karl he was looking at. It was the box. Something about it pulled at him. Familiar, distant and almost nostalgic.
"And… what is that?"
Karl stepped inside, slow and composed.
"Young Master… Lord Vaelthorn gave me this before he passed," he said solemnly. "He instructed me to deliver it to you one day. As for what's inside—I don't know. But he was very clear on one thing: if you accept it, you must also accept the condition that no matter what happens, you never abandon the name Vaelthorn."
Nyx blinked.
What kind of condition was that?
A heirloom? Sure, fine. But a vow to never cast aside his surname? Why would he even consider that? What the hell was inside that box that came with a leash tied to his bloodline?
The pull from the box grew stronger. Some part of him wanted to open it. Needed to. But the unknown weight of consequence clung to it like chains.
Karl spoke again, gently this time.
"Lord Rowan also said… if you're not ready for the responsibilities that come with it, then don't open it. Not until you're strong enough to carry them all."
Nyx's eyes narrowed. "Then why bring it now?"
"Because you're changing," Karl said without missing a beat. "And I believe that change has made you eligible to receive this. I'll return it to its rightful owner—you. Whether you open it now or wait… is your decision."
There was silence between them for a long while.
Eventually, Nyx stepped forward, reached for the box, and stored it in his system inventory without another word.
Karl turned to leave—but paused at the door, his back still to Nyx.
"You've never strayed from your path, young master," he said softly. "I hope that doesn't change now."
He walked away, leaving Nyx alone once more.
Nyx stared at the closed door for a long, long moment. There was a feeling in his chest, something gnawing and hard to name.
Guilt? Something else? He didn't really know.
---
Morning came quickly.
But the silence that followed was heavier than the night before—thick, suffocating. It wasn't the calm of peace, but the hush that comes before something breaks.
"Eat your damn food," Nyx growled, eyeing Rhea and Karl still standing near the table.
They jolted slightly, flustered, then quickly sat down to join him. It wasn't that they didn't want to eat with him—hell, it was the opposite. It felt like something precious. But the grin on Nyx's face… wide, sharp, and just a bit too close to unhinged… that's what made them hesitate.
Nyx stabbed a piece of meat with his fork, chewing as he spoke.
"Karl. Lock down the manor. Every entrance, every crack. I don't want a damn insect slipping in next time."
He paused. His gaze flicked to Rhea, then back to Karl, eyes narrowing.
"And stay with her. Always. If Rhea gets so much as a paper cut—"
He stopped, noticing the sharp gleam in Karl's eye, the kind that asked, "Then what, boy?"
"—Nothing," Nyx muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just don't let your guard down. Protect her."
Karl gave a small nod, the silent promise already made.
Rhea, however, was less convinced. Her eyes lingered on Nyx, searching for something beneath the forced bravado.
"What about you, Nyx? This almost feels like… a farewell."
Nyx didn't meet her gaze. He stood, brushing off his coat.
"Don't worry about me. I'm not going to war or anything."
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Just… be safe. For a while."
Without another word, he turned and left for the study.
---
"Karl," he called, "do we have a sword with high fire resistance? I'm not planning to melt another one like last time."
Karl, who had followed behind silently, nodded. "We do. This way."
He led Nyx down to the manor's so-called armoury.
Calling it that was generous.
Unlike what you'd expect—racks of polished steel, weapons of every kind, armor gleaming with enchantments—this room was more like a beggar's closet. A few swords, some rusting spears, and a rack that looked like it hadn't seen oil in years.
"Wow," Nyx said, voice dry. "We've got quite the arsenal. Bet even the royal armoury would be ashamed, huh, Karl?"
He smirked and started browsing, fingers brushing over old hilts and dented blades. Despite the sarcastic flair, his eyes were sharp—calculated. Eventually, he found a sword that matched his grip and balance, not too heavy, and enchanted with a minor fire-resistant rune. Good enough for now.
He slung it over his shoulder and turned to leave.
Behind him, Karl let out a faint sigh—more emotion than he usually showed.
'I might've made a mistake last night… giving that to him,' Karl thought, his eyes lingering on Nyx's back as the boy walked out.
He didn't ask for the box back. But gods, he wanted to.
---
"We just hunted yesterday. At least let us enjoy our damn self-earned vacation, will you, noble bastard?" Valon complained the moment he barged in, the two girls following close behind.
Samantha and Ruby were the same as always—Samantha casually took a seat, legs crossed, snatching a fruit from the bowl like she owned the place. Ruby offered a soft smile, far warmer than the shy mess she'd been before. But Valon? He was extra today—dressed head to toe in what looked like a noble heir cosplay, complete with gaudy jewelry clinking with every step.
Nyx raised a brow.
"You tryna attract every thief in the kingdom? Or just aiming to get stabbed in style?" he asked, watching eyes from the street stick to Valon like flies on syrup.
"Eh. Let 'em stare," Valon muttered, flopping onto a couch.
"So," Samantha said between bites of her fruit, "you called us here for a reason? Something urgent?"
"Wanted to ask a favor," Nyx replied, gaze flicking across the three of them. His eyes paused slightly longer on Samantha. Something about her felt... different today.
"Pervert," she muttered, smirking as she reached over and closed his eyes with her hand.
"How can we help, Nyx?" Ruby chimed in, voice light—genuinely happy for once.
"I need you guys to go hunting," Nyx said, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees.
"We always hunt. What's different about yours?" Valon asked, eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"A lot," Nyx said, eyes hardening. "I need you to hunt like there's no tomorrow. Hit the quotas hard. Clear out everything you can."
Valon blinked. "You say you need us, but what's this 'you guys' crap? Aren't you coming?"
"I'm not joining this time," Nyx said flatly. "I'll catch up with you at the inn around sundown."
That drew concern. Especially from Samantha. She stood up, brushing off her coat, and grabbed Nyx's arm without warning.
"Nyx. Come talk with me. Now."
Before he could protest, she was dragging him out of the room.
Nyx wore an exaggerated expression of distress as they walked. "Am I being forced here? I'm not into aggressive women, you know."
Samantha rolled her eyes and flicked his forehead. "Shut it, perv."
They stopped near the hall, a little away from the others.
"So," Nyx asked, rubbing his forehead, "what's this about?"
"What's this about?" she shot back, staring him down. "What are you planning? Something happened, didn't it?"
Nyx shrugged casually. "Nothing big. Just solo hunting today. That's all."
"You know you can't lie for shit, right?"
"Oh?" He feigned surprise. "I didn't know that. Thanks for the update."
She stared at him for another second, then sighed.
"We'll wait at the inn. Finish whatever shady crap you're into and come back to us, alright? I'm not leaving without you."
Nyx looked at her, quiet for a beat, then smirked.
"Perk up your ears," he said. "You're going to hear one hell of a story first thing tomorrow morning."
Before she could ask what the hell that meant, he vanished from sight, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
---
Moments later, Nyx reappeared in front of a large, pristine manor—noble, ornate, and expensive-looking.
He stood still, eyes fixed on the gates, jaw set like stone.
His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried like thunder in his own ears.
"You've chosen the wrong enemy, Vincent."
His fingers twitched near the hilt of his blade.
"Blood for blood. Assassination for assassination."
A.N. Long chapter? You got it. This chapter contained a lot, I mean A LOT. I wanted to cut it down into two but– meh, who does it anyway. See you tomorrow, with a new mess unfolding. Until then–
Stay healthy, Stay pure, just to get corrupted here~
–Clashercertified