Chapter 120 - - 120 - Echoes of Madness

Chapter 120: Chapter - 120 - Echoes of Madness

Prince Andrin opened his eyes to find Aelene sitting beside his bed. After a few days of much-needed rest, she had returned to the healing sanctuary to check on his recovery. The soft light of the room bathed her gentle features as she watched him with deep concern.

"Andrin?" she asked softly. "Do you remember anything? How did you end up like this, and what happened to you?"

Andrin rubbed his forehead, a faint frown creasing his brow as he struggled to grasp at hazy memories. "I don’t remember much, Aelene. Maybe with time it will all come back to me, but honestly, I’m just happy that I’m here with you."

Aelene offered him a warm, reassuring smile, resting a hand briefly on his blanket. "Don’t worry. It won’t take long for your mind to clear."

Beneath her calm exterior, however, Aelene’s mind was racing. Lucien is from Valtheria, which means the chances are high that he is connected to Prince Andrin as well. If I try to help Andrin too much and Lucien sees me as a threat, the consequences will be unimaginable. I need to keep my distance from him. Who knows what Lucien is actually planning?

Without warning, the space behind her shifted. Lucien materialized out of nowhere, stepping up close behind Aelene. Before she could react, he reached down and firmly cupped her backside, pressing his hand against the curve of her body in a angle completely hidden from Andrin’s line of sight. He gave her flesh a deliberate, heavy squeeze, his fingers digging in just enough to send a jolt of heat and shock straight through her.

Aelene gasped, her breath hitching sharply in her throat as a wave of sudden sensation hit her. Her cheeks flushed bright crimson. "Ahh—! You scared me, Lu—I mean, Axel!"

"How are you doing, Lady Aelene?" Lucien asked, his voice smooth and smooth as velvet. He didn’t pull his hand away; instead, he began slowly caressing her ass, his palm rubbing through the fabric of her dress in long, possessing strokes that made her knees feel weak.

She forced herself to stay still, trying frantically to keep her expression neutral so Andrin wouldn’t notice the scandalous act happening right in front of him.

"Andrin, he is Axel. He’s a traveler," Aelene said, her voice trembling slightly as Lucien’s fingers traced higher up her thigh before squeezing her rear again. "And Axel, this is Andrin... my childhood friend from Valtheria."

In truth, Prince Andrin possessed no real memories of Lucien. On that fateful night, Lucien had meticulously stripped away every trace of his existence from the prince’s mind and implanted altered memories in their place. No matter how hard Andrin tried, he would never remember Lucien’s face or voice. Yet, Lucien had deliberately left the raw, agonizing memories of Andrin’s imprisonment intact. The lingering trauma was necessary to keep the prince’s emotional state volatile, cultivating the intense anger—especially toward everyone around him—that Lucien needed to drive his ultimate plans forward.

Lucien stepped forward, smoothly withdrawing his hand from Aelene’s body, and extended it toward the prince with an open, friendly expression. "If you’re free, Andrin, we can go out for a hunt. It might help you clear your head and feel much better."

Andrin blinked, looking between Lucien and Aelene. "Ca-can I come?"

"Yeah," Lucien replied with an easy smile. "Prince Rumil invited me himself. I’ll just tell him you’re a friend of mine."

A wave of relief washed over Andrin’s pale face. "Then please... I think my mind would feel much better if I could step outside for a while."

"Then get ready," Lucien said smoothly. "We’re leaving now."

Andrin turned back toward Aelene, his expression full of gratitude. "Aelene... thank you for saving me. And if possible, I would like to talk to you in private for a few moments."

Aelene shot a cautious glance toward Lucien. Understanding the implicit request, Lucien gave a light nod and took a step back toward the door.

"Then I’ll wait outside. Don’t worry, old friends should catch up first," Lucien said, offering them a polite smile before stepping out of the room.

Once the heavy door closed, Aelene leaned in closer. "What happened, Andrin?"

Andrin lowered his voice, the confusion in his eyes giving way to a darker, heavier shadow. "I think my royal family imprisoned me for some reason. I don’t remember why they would ever do such a thing, but there must be something behind it... or someone pushing them from the shadows."

Aelene reached out, placing a comforting hand over his. "Don’t worry, I’ll help you with whatever you need. But for now, you should focus on your cultivation and get back on your feet once again."

"I know," Andrin murmured. He quieted for a moment before looking up at her with a complicated gaze. "By the way... I got the news that you are going to get married to Prince Rumil?"

"Yeah..." Aelene looked away, a bit awkwardly, before trying to shift the focus back to him. "What about you? I heard you found a retainer and that you fell in love with her... Anne, right?"

At the mention of her name, Andrin’s shoulders visibly dropped, a deep look of guilt crossing his face. "Yeah... but I did something terrible to her."

Aelene frowned. "What?"

"Something a man shouldn’t do," Andrin said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. He stood up, clearly unwilling to dwell on the painful thought any longer. "I’ll catch up with you later, Aelene. Axel might be waiting for me."

Without waiting for her response, Prince Andrin turned and left the sanctuary.

Near the edge of the royal stables, Prince Rumil was adjusting the leather saddles on his horses, preparing for the hunt while waiting for Lucien’s arrival. Ever since returning from the Hollow of Ten Thousand Forms, a heavy exhaustion had settled into his bones, and he desperately needed a distraction.

Lately, frustration had been gnawing at him endlessly. The notorious Man-Eater had been systematically raiding and plundering his personal vaults one by one, and Rumil was completely powerless to stop it. To make matters worse, his trip to the Hollow of the ten thousand forms had yielded absolutely nothing. With so few people left in the realm that he could truly trust, Rumil was rapidly reaching a point where he simply didn’t know what to do anymore.

After a few minutes, the sound of approaching footsteps broke his train of thought. Rumil looked up to see Lucien walking toward him, but he wasn’t alone.

"How are you doing, my friend?" Rumil called out, offering a small nod before glancing at the man beside him. "And who is this new companion?"

"I’m doing well, Prince Rumil," Lucien replied smoothly. "Though I’m still getting used to a prince calling me a friend." He gestured toward Andrin. "Meet Andrin. He’s new here in Azurefall, just like me. We met at the healing sanctuary."

Andrin bowed his head respectfully, keeping his noble identity carefully concealed. "It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Rumil."

"Don’t worry about formalities," Rumil waved a hand dismissively. "Out here, we are equals, and we’re just here to enjoy hunting some beasts. Let’s go."

Rumil mounted his horse, Lucien smoothly swung onto another, and Andrin took the third. Together, the trio rode out of the sanctuary grounds and headed straight into the dense, wild perimeter of the royal hunting reserves.

It didn’t take long before they encountered their first wave of wild beasts. Rumil acted with practiced speed, materializing a radiant spirit bow in his hands. He drew the glowing string back to his ear and released a single shot; the concentrated arrow split in mid-air, piercing through the skulls of two charging beasts instantly.

Nearby, Lucien moved with effortless lethality. Whirling his massive halberd in a sweeping arc, a wave of condensed edge-light erupted from the blade, bisecting five high-tier beasts at once in a shower of blood.

Then came Andrin.

A sharp, ringing chime echoed through the air as a spectral sword materialized around his form. Rather than striking cleanly, Andrin lunged directly into the fray with a wild look in his eyes. With a brutal, jagged slash, he thrust his blade straight through the jaw of a lunging beast, severing its mouth completely before violently twisting the steel to mangle its face into a unrecognizable mass of flesh and bone. He moved from one target to the next without rhythm or elegance, hacking and ripping into the creatures with terrifying ferocity.

Rumil lowered his bow, staring at the gory scene in genuine surprise. "Woah, Andrin... you are brutal. It almost seems like you enjoy torturing them."

Andrin wiped a splattering of dark blood from his cheek, turning toward Rumil with a wide, breathless smile. His eyes were wide, and the sudden smile on his face was unnervingly creepy. "For the past few months, I’ve been killing just like this. It’s... satisfying."

A short while later, as they ventured deeper into the woods, Rumil found a brief moment to pull Lucien aside while Andrin was busy skinning a kill nearby.

"How long have you known him?" Rumil asked in a hushed, curious tone.

"Not long," Lucien answered smoothly. "I just met him this morning at the healing sanctuary."

Rumil glanced back at Andrin, shaking his head slightly. "This dude is strong... but he’s dangerously brutal."

After hours of riding and tracking through the dense forest, the three men eventually emerged into a breathtaking clearing. A wide, crystal-clear river flowed before them, its shimmering surface reflecting the golden rays of the setting sun. Lush, vibrant greenery lined the riverbanks, and the soothing sound of rushing water filled the cool evening air. It was a serene, magnificent sight, offering a stark contrast to the bloody slaughter of the hunt.

As they washed the blood from their hands and weapons at the river’s edge, Rumil noticed that Andrin was staring quietly at the water, looking visibly downcast.

Driven by curiosity, Rumil spoke up. "Andrin, what happened? You seem a bit down."

Andrin paused, staring at his reflection in the rippling water. "No... it’s nothing."

"You can tell us, Andrin," Lucien added smoothly, his tone warm and supportive. "If something is bothering you, we’re here."

Andrin let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping. "It’s just... I betrayed the expectations of the woman I love. I don’t know if I can ever win her back. She hates me now."

Rumil leaned back against a smooth river stone. "Well... did you apologize?"

"No," Andrin murmured, looking down at his trembling hands. "I didn’t... I justified my decisions with logic and never apologized."

Rumil shook his head with a slight laugh. "That’s bad, Andrin. Whenever you hurt a woman, no matter how logical your decisions might seem to you, you should always apologize. It ends the conflict right then and there, and you’ll both feel much better."

"Yeah," Lucien chimed in, a subtle, dark smirk playing at the very edges of his lips. "You should have apologized when you had the chance. But if you ever meet her again, try to fix it... maybe she’ll forgive you."

Andrin fell silent, processing their words as the light continued to fade.

Lucien stood up, brushing off his dark robes. "Well, it seems like the sun is setting now, so I should take my leave. Princess Lysandra ordered me to assist Aelvera in catching that Man-Eater."

Rumil sighed heavily at the mention of his sister, though a grateful look crossed his face. "Yeah, my sister can be such a bitch... but to be honest, it would be a massive help if you could assist with this case. If that thief keeps raiding my stores like this, it won’t be long before I’m begging on the side of the road."

All three of them shared a brief laugh before parting ways. Lucien turned toward the military barracks to meet Aelvera, while Rumil gathered his gear and headed back to his private estate to begin his evening cultivation.

Over the past few days, Rumil had been pushing his cultivation to its absolute limits, making every effort to gain full control over his mind and emotions. He had finally begun to see real progress; his temper no longer wavered as easily, and his spirit was growing noticeably stronger. Emotional instability had always been his greatest weakness. During their ordeal in the Hollow of Ten Thousand Forms, he had realized just how helpless he became when intense pressure mounted—a failure that had nearly cost him and Aelene their lives on multiple occasions.

If it hadn’t been for Axel, both he and Aelene would undoubtedly be dead.

Because of that, Rumil was now investing almost all his time and remaining wealth into rare cultivation resources specifically meant to temper his emotional core. Deep down, he felt a profound sense of gratitude toward Axel. It was because of him that Rumil had managed to change, and ironically, he felt closer to this human traveler than to anyone else in his life.

Meanwhile, Prince Andrin was walking back toward the healing sanctuary on foot. A rare sense of fulfillment warmed his chest—for the first time in months, he felt as though he had found two genuine friends he could trust with anything.

Night had fully fallen over the city. Along the way back, Andrin stopped by a local market and bought a few small gifts for Aelene to express his sincere gratitude. In his arms, he carefully carried a bundle of her favorite flowers and a wrapped dish of her favorite food.

As he turned down a quiet, narrow alleyway to shortcut his path back to the sanctuary, the sound of harsh, mocking laughter cut through the night air.

Just a short distance ahead, three realm masters were cornering two young maidens against a stone wall, blocking their escape.

"You two are such beauties," one of the thugs sneered, leaning in close with a greasy grin. "Why not entertain us for a bit?"

"Yeah, look at those fine robes," another chimed in, reaching out to grab at the edge of her dress.

"You’d look even better without them."

The lead maiden stepped forward courageously, shielding the younger, terrified girl behind her.

"Please... please, just let us go! We won’t complain to anyone... please..."

"Hey, hey!" the third thug barked, taking a step forward with an arrogant smirk. "Don’t drop that attitude with us! Do you even know who we are?"

Seeing the distress of the defenseless women, Andrin felt a sudden rush of righteous anger. He couldn’t simply stand by and ignore it. Dropping the flowers and food to the ground, he strode forward, reached out, and grabbed the lead thug firmly by the shoulder, shoving him backward.

"How dare you!" Andrin shouted, his voice ringing out clearly in the alley. "Can’t you see they are scared? Just fuck off!"

"You little bastard!" another thug snarled from behind, pulling a concealed dagger and lunging directly toward Andrin’s exposed back.

Andrin moved purely on instinct, twisting his body to dodge the incoming blade. But the moment he dodged, a sudden, violent sensation exploded inside his head.

His vision shattered into a chaotic blur. The world around him turned pitch black as a storm of conflicting, violent emotions erupted all at once within his mind. The trauma of his imprisonment, the unyielding anger, the agonizing confusion, and an insatiable thirst for violence rushed through his veins like wildfire. He clutched his head with both hands, gasping for breath as he tried frantically to balance his core, but his legs gave out completely.

Blackness claimed his consciousness as he collapsed to the stone floor.

A few moments later, Andrin slowly opened his eyes.

He was sitting on his knees in the cold dirt of the alleyway. His vision was clear again, but a heavy, metallic smell hung suffocatingly thick in the night air.

He looked down at his trembling hands. They were caked in thick, dark crimson blood. Stuck beneath his fingernails were jagged strips of torn flesh and bits of human skin.

Horrified, Andrin raised his head to look forward.

Lying in front of him were five mutilated corpses. The three realm masters who had been harassing the women were dead, their faces completely shredded to pieces, their skulls crushed and torn open in an act of sickening brutality. Beside them lay the two young maidens he had tried to protect—their bodies ripped apart just as mercilessly, their blood pooling together into a single, dark stain on the stone ground.