The Hidden Monster of House Vale
Chapter 124 - - 124 - Devoured by Hatred
Chapter 124: Chapter - 124 - Devoured by Hatred
Andrin slammed the heavy wooden door of his chamber shut, the sharp reverberation echoing through the silent room like a thunderclap. His chest heaved with rapid, ragged breaths, his teeth grinding together so tightly that his jaw locked with strain. The moment his mind locked onto Aelene, his face twisted into a mask of pure, contorted rage. A suffocating feeling of betrayal erupted in his chest, hot and bitter, threatening to destroy whatever sanity he had left.
I will kill everyone, he swore silently, his hands trembling violently at his sides as veins bulged along his neck. Why does everyone turn their backs on me the moment I need them most? Is it because of strength? Is that all that matters in this wretched world? If it takes absolute power to stop them, then I will become the strongest creature alive. I’ll achieve absolute power and tear them all to pieces. Aelene, Prince Rumil, Anne... every single one of them just wants to see me broken and destroyed.
Without uttering a single word to Aelene, he stormed over to his bed, climbed up, and crossed his legs into a tight cultivation posture.
What Andrin did not realize was that buried deep within his flesh was a terrifying parasite—an abominable creature forcefully planted inside him by Lucien that fed greedily upon his internal cultivation. In this realm, every master carried the potential for two distinct paths of power: the righteous, pure heavenly cultivation, or the dark, chaotic demonic path. Those who walked the righteous way earned the title of heavenly cultivators, while those who focused on forbidden dark arts inevitably fell into demonic path.
The parasite writhing near Andrin’s core systematically intercepted his hard-earned energy, filtering out any righteous purity and funneling every drop directly into his latent demonic channels. Because Andrin could no longer control his raging emotions, his overwhelming malice and sense of betrayal became the primary fuel for this dark transformation. Everything that had transpired was part of Lucien’s calculating strategy, and the prince’s growing hatred was accelerating his fall at a horrifying speed.
With every passing breath, Andrin felt a surging tide of raw power flooding his meridians. He could feel his strength increasing rapidly, his spiritual energy becoming denser and far more volatile. Yet, his clouded mind remained completely oblivious to the fact that he was walking the demonic path. He naively assumed his astonishing cultivation speed was a breakthrough born of his own potential, entirely unaware that the parasite, fueled by the Astral Marrow Pills and Primordial Soul Seeds secretly introduced by Lucien, was forcibly driving his growth.
The sensation of rapidly swelling power was intoxicating, sinking into his mind like an addictive drug. Before he even realized it, he stopped speaking to Aelene entirely. He barred his door against the outside world, refusing to let a single soul set foot across the threshold. Day turned into night, and night into day, as he threw himself into relentless cultivation for twenty-two hours at a time, pausing only for the absolute bare necessities of eating and relieving himself. To his warped, narrow perspective, this was the only true path forward.
Days bled into one another in total, paranoid isolation.
Far across the city, hidden within a secure, shadowed compound, Lucien stood before Erion and Elaria, alongside Zyrelle.
"We are ready," Erion reported, stepping forward with a calm, resolute gaze.
"I am glad you are," Lucien replied, his tone smooth and unreadable.
Reaching into the air, Lucien tore open a ripple in space, accessing his personal void dimension. He withdrew a selection of items, letting them settle quietly onto the wooden table between them. Among the collection were two long, masterfully crafted daggers with midnight-black blades, alongside a small pouch containing glowing Astral Marrow Pills and rare Primordial Soul Seeds. Lucien stood up, taking the pills and soul seeds and handing them over to Erion, before sliding the twin daggers toward Zyrelle.
Standing right beside Lucien was Anne, her posture straight, her gaze sharp, and her demeanor commanding absolute authority.
"So here is the plan," Anne began, her clear voice cutting through the quiet room. "Erion and Zyrelle, your primary task this time will be to empty Prince Rumil’s underground vaults. You are to make sure you extract every single treasure he possesses... including the royal heritage treasures."
Zyrelle looked at Anne, a slight wrinkle appearing between her brows. "But what if we run into a group of realm masters while inside?"
It was Zyrelle’s first time meeting Anne directly, but she could instantly tell that Anne was someone who took her duties with extreme seriousness. She could feel the formidable, dangerous aura surrounding both Anne and Lucien, and her sharp eyes picked up on a subtle, unspoken sexual tension lingering between the two. However, Zyrelle was equally determined not to disappoint Lucien. In truth, she desperately wanted to stand out and be recognized by him, though she was exceptionally careful not to offend Anne in the process.
"Good question," Anne acknowledged, giving a slight nod. "We will divide our group. There is a high probability you will need to remain hidden inside his vaults for a full day, as this marks the final phase of our operation—and it will be the absolute end of Prince Rumil." She gestured toward the layout on the table. "Erion will be paired with me, and Zyrelle will go with Lucien. That way, we ensure there is a primary heavy fighter on each side."
Erion’s brow furrowed, his eyes flickering toward Zyrelle. "I’ll have to be separated from Zyrelle?"
Anne let out a faint, dry laugh, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. "Well, after completing the mission you can meet up with her again. Who said this separation was going to last for years?"
The entire operation was laid out clearly before them, yet not a single person in the room knew how this grand scheme would actually conclude except for Lucien. Even Anne had only been briefed on her specific responsibilities. Despite the lingering mysteries, every individual present placed absolute, unwavering trust in him, fully convinced that whatever he had designed would yield results beyond expectation.
Anne was secretly amazed at how quickly Lucien had managed to gather such capable and devoted allies in a completely foreign country. Given how thoroughly selfish and ruthless Lucien was by nature, his ability to forge such reliable bonds was remarkable. As her eyes swept over Elaria, Erion, and Zyrelle, she had to admit that Lucien possessed an exceptional eye for talent; every person he selected for his plans possessed extraordinary abilities.
Quietly observing the entire exchange from the back corner of the room were Norrik and Princess Verna. They watched the strategic breakdown in silence, fully aware that their long, grueling journey was rapidly drawing to a close. But among everyone present, Norrik looked the most deeply tormented.
Ever since arriving in this foreign country, he had been forced to carry out brutal, bloody killings. At his core, Norrik was a pure-hearted man who happened to be blessed with the terrifying abilities of wild beasts. Yet, he had been forced to use those very powers to end the lives of countless innocent people. He had hated every single moment of it, but necessity had driven his hands, forcing him to realize just how much cruelty individuals were capable of committing under the banner of their country. Now, to his horror, he had become one of them. Looking at Lucien, Norrik saw far more than just a frighteningly powerful realm master; he saw a mastermind who effortlessly manipulated entire factions from behind a curtain.
Throughout the meeting, Anne conducted herself like a seasoned general issuing battlefield commands, while Lucien remained the silent puppet master steering the entire grand design.
"It seems no one has any further questions," Anne said, turning her head toward her companion. "Lucien, do you want to add something—"
She paused mid-sentence, blinking in disbelief. The spot beside her was completely empty. He had vanished without making a single sound.
"That bastard!" Anne ground out, her professional composure vanishing as a furious expression crossed her face. "He always disappears before explaining everything completely! The next time I see him, I’m going to punch him right in the face!"
Elaria offered a soft, lighthearted smile, attempting to soothe her. "Senior Anne, I don’t think that’s very ladylike."
Over the past few days, Elaria and Anne had grown remarkably close, forming a genuine friendship. Anne, Norrik, and Princess Verna were currently residing at the hidden base belonging to Erion, Elaria, and their mother, Elda. Elda had taken a deep liking to the group, and inspired by their dedication, she had begun focusing heavily on her own cultivation, using the top-tier resources provided by Lucien. Because of their elven lineage, Elaria and Elda looked less like mother and daughter and more like stunning elder and younger sisters.
Meanwhile, Lucien moved silently down a dimly lit stone corridor leading toward the military barracks. As he neared the heavy arched entrance, the quiet atmosphere was shattered by the sound of harsh, ringing voices—or rather, a relentless scolding.
"Aelvera! You promised you could find your father’s killer, but you are doing absolutely nothing!" Prince Rumil’s voice snarled, dripping with venomous rage. "That bastard man-eater is striking again and again, and you are proving to be completely useless!"
Aelvera stood tall before him, her face calm and completely unreadable. She remained silent, enduring the verbal assault solely because the man standing in front of her carried royal blood.
"What was it you told me before?" Rumil continued, stepping closer and thrusting a finger toward her. "That I am a selfish man who cannot take care of his people? What about you? Your father died fighting that monster, and here you are, wasting my precious time! I am giving you just three more days, Aelvera! You took full responsibility for this investigation, but you aren’t producing a single result—even after my friend Axel helped you figure out so many details!"
Prince Rumil was rapidly losing all sense of self-control. The Emperor of Azurefall, his father, had personally summoned him earlier to declare that Rumil’s political standing was becoming more worthless with every passing day. For Prince Rumil, his father’s approval was his entire existence. Although he had trained himself to conquer his volatile emotions, the moment a direct threat to his status emerged, his composure shattered completely. Now, unable to handle the pressure, he was venting all his pent-up fear and frustration onto Aelvera.
Having finished his enraged tirade, Prince Rumil turned around and stormed out of the barracks, his boots clattering noisily against the stone floor.
Lucien remained perfectly motionless, concealed within the deep shadows of the hallway until the prince’s footsteps faded into the distance.
The instant Prince Rumil was out of sight, Aelvera let out a long, shaky breath, her calm mask instantly crumbling into sheer disgust. "Bastard... absolute piece of shit. Royalty, my ass! I’m working day and night to catch that bastard, and he has the nerve to claim I’m doing nothing? I can’t just start slaughtering innocent humans like he wants!"
Prince Rumil had recently demanded the outright execution of every human currently staying in the healing sanctuary. Aelvera and Aelene opposed the decree. While she desperately wanted revenge for her father’s murder, she refused to launch a mindless massacre against an entire race simply to appease a frantic royal.
She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh, trying to steady her erratic heartbeat. Suddenly, a firm hand settled quietly onto her shoulder.
Aelvera gasped, flinching violently as she spun around, her hand instinctively dropping toward her weapon. "What the fuck are you doing?" she snapped, her eyes widening as she recognized Lucien standing right behind her.
Lucien gave a mild, effortless smile, his voice completely untroubled. "Seems like a very tough day for you."
"That bastard man-eater and this fucker Prince Rumil make me want to just kill myself sometimes," Aelvera muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose in deep exhaustion. "Sometimes I truly wonder how someone can be so completely incompetent."
Lucien looked at her calmly, his eyes gleaming with subtle intrigue. "So, what have you decided? Are you going to kill all the humans from the healing sanctuary, or have you finally found a way to catch the man-eater?"
Aelvera locked eyes with him, her tired posture suddenly stiffening with renewed determination. "Don’t worry. I have a way to drag that rat out of hiding. I just need your help."
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