Chapter 63: A Highly Impolite Disappearance: Executioner’s Sake?

The relentless screech of iron against stone died as Kerwon adjusted his grip. The fire-blue in his irises flared, blinding against the heavy dark of the underbelly.

Cassius shifted his weight to vault backward over a fresh pile of sheared granite, his mind already three steps ahead, mapping the trajectory of Kerwon’s next swing. He went to tap into his telepathy; to read the muscle twitch, the intent, the micro-expression that would give away the elite’s path.

Nothing.

The connection snapped like a dry twig. A heavy, suffocating static flooded his mind instead, a direct side effect of the freezing curse locking up his veins. For the first time, his internal map went totally blank.Cassius’s gray eyes widened in genuine, unscripted horror. His heels caught on the uneven edge of a broken stone flag, his balance faltering for a single, critical fraction of a second.

Kerwon noticed. A cruel, thin smile touched the elite’s lips as he stepped into the opening, raising the massive halberd high, the silver edge catching the last dying ember of the corridor’s torch.

"Your luck just ran out, to be worthy," Kerwon growled, the mechanical precision of his voice returning with a lethal, quiet finality.

"Die knowing you couldn’t calculate your way out of this."

Cassius couldn’t move. The distance was too short, his footing too poor, his mind too blind. The heavy crescent blade began its downward arc, screaming through the air, aimed squarely to split his chest.

"WATCH OUT!" Florianthum’s voice tore through the corridor, raw and desperate, the sound scraping against the low ceiling stones.

On the floor a few paces back, Fukuro flinched violently, his eyes snapping open as the scream registered. Groaning, he frantically slapped his hands over his face to shield himself from the impending spray of blood. Yet, the absolute absurdity of his clerk curiosity won out; he parted his fingers just a fraction, peeking through the gaps. His eyes bulged behind his crooked, dust-smeared glasses, tracking the silver blade as it descended.

Cassius didn’t flinch. Seeing the steel rush toward his face, he simply stopped fighting the gravity of the moment. He let his shoulders drop, his chest stilling as he accepted the cold finality of the strike.

Looking straight into the descending edge, his voice left him in a quiet, dry whisper.

"So that’s how it is."

He closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.

Shhh-wip.

The heavy weight of the wind pressure suddenly vanished.

There was no crunch of bone, no impact against the stone floor. The violent shriek of the halberd simply dissolved into a soft, empty hiss.

Cassius opened his eyes. Kerwon was frozen mid-swing, his knuckles still white around an empty grip. The massive, towering executioner’s weapon had completely vanished into thin air, leaving nothing behind but a faint, shimmering distortion in the damp space between them.

Kerwon’s hands remained empty, suspended in the dusty air where the massive weapon had been a heartbeat before. The brilliant, fire-light blue in his irises didn’t fade, but the rigid, lethal tension in his shoulders suddenly dissolved.

"Huh..."

A sharp, humorless smirk spread slowly across Kerwon’s face. Without a hint of hurry, he lowered his arms and folded his hands neatly behind his back, returning instantly to the posture of a composed palace official standing in a pristine gallery rather than a crumbling underbelly.

Cassius opened his eyes, his gray gaze locking onto the elite. His chest rose with a shallow, slightly uneven breath as he took in the missing halberd, but his analytical mask slammed right back into place.

"Afraid?" Cassius asked, his voice steadying, though the dry rasp from his near-death whisper still lingered on his tongue.

Kerwon didn’t snap back. Instead, his smirk softened into an expression of profound, chilling serenity- the look of a man who held every single card in the deck and found his opponent’s bravado thoroughly amusing.

He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair shifting over his shoulder, his expression carrying a mix of quiet adoration and absolute, unshakable certainty.

"Lord Vilucious is way too out of anyone’s league," Kerwon said, his tone dropping back into that smooth, aristocratic cadence, entirely untroubled by the ruins around them. "Being his server, I like him a lot... You know why?"

"Of course I know,"

Cassius snapped back, his tone dripping with a polished, venomed malice that cut through the dust.

"Because he is an absolute fool! Delegating soft, managerial authority to his guard just to ensure a state-sanctioned entourage of sycophants to flatter his inflated ego."

Before Kerwon could fire back, the soft rustle of fabric cut through the heavy, dust-laden air.

Florianthum stepped directly into the space between the two men. Without a second thought, she reached out and closed her hands around Cassius’s bare, soot-stained arm. Through the thin, elegant fabric of her soft half-gloves, her fingers felt icy cold against his skin, trembling slightly from the sheer adrenaline of the near-miss.

She didn’t look at Cassius. Her focus was locked entirely on the elite guard standing with his hands folded behind his back.

"Enough," Florianthum said, her voice shaking but carrying a desperate, grounding weight that demanded attention. She squeezed Cassius’s arm tighter, as if physically anchoring him to stop the reckless taunting.

"Kerwon, tell me what happened that brought you as our lord’s blessed sake here?"

Kerwon’s dark eyes dropped down to where Florianthum’s soft, half-gloved fingers wrapped tightly around Cassius’s bare arm. For a few long, suffocating seconds, he simply stared at the touch.

The serene, aristocratic mask he had been wearing stiffened. A subtle, sharp twitch rippled through his jawline, and the fire-light blue in his irises flared with an icy, possessive irritation. He deliberately shifted his footing, drawing his shoulders back to stiffen his posture in silent, heavy disapproval.

Finally, he tore his gaze away from her hand, fixing his cold eyes back on Florianthum’s face.

"Our Lord’s decree is precise," Kerwon said, his smooth voice dropping to a low, rhythmic cadence.

"He commands that we reshape the kingdom to better accommodate the lower-tier vampires."

He paused, a faint, humorless smile playing on his lips as he glanced over the ruined stone corridor.

"They perform the grueling labor that sustains our foundation, after all. It is our duty to ensure they can work efficiently."

Kerwon took a slow, deliberate step forward, his folded hands remaining behind his back.

"They deserve to live to their full potential," he finished, his voice ringing with a cold, rehearsed reverence. "And to thrive with all their might."

"Only if..." A faint, raspy whisper slipped past Cassius’s lips.

Before he could finish the thought, Florianthum’s grip tightened instantly, her icy fingers digging deep into the muscle of his bare arm. It was a silent, frantic warning. Cassius swallowed the rest of his comment, his jaw clenching as he fell silent, though his gray eyes remained fiercely hyper-focused on the elite.

Florianthum turned her attention completely back to Kerwon, masking the tension in her voice with a calm, diplomatic weight.

"An essential piece of infrastructure is currently missing from our kingdom," she stated clearly.

"The subservient factions require it immediately if they are to sustain their operations."

At those words, the carefully constructed composure on Kerwon’s face vanished once more. His eyes narrowed to sharp slits, the fire-light blue within them dimming into a dark, calculating coldness.

Moving nothing but his lips, he breathed out a single, agonizingly slow whisper.

"That lighter?"

The words were so faint, so buried beneath the heavy draft of the ruined underbelly, that neither Florianthum nor Cassius could catch the sound.

In a fraction of a heartbeat, Kerwon forced his features back into a flawless, aristocratic mask. He smoothed his posture, offering a shallow, polite tilt of his head.

"I will personally share the details the moment I uncover a trace of its whereabouts," Kerwon said, his voice smooth and reassuringly empty.

"Rest assured."

Kerwon offered a low, flawless bow to Florianthum, his movements carrying the pristine, fluid grace of the highest court circles. He didn’t spare another glance for Cassius.

Turning on his heel, he glided away from them, his silent footsteps taking him past the fractured remnants of the alcove and straight into the heavy shadows that lay beyond the secret base, disappearing into the open expanse ahead.

The moment the elite’s silhouette dissolved into the dark, Cassius pulled his arm back, tearing himself away from Florianthum’s grip. He let out a sharp, ragged breath, his bare, bruised chest heaving as the adrenaline of the near-miss finally began to turn into pure, bitter irritation.

"If you already knew," Cassius began, his voice dropping into a low, mocking drawl as he turned to face her, "then why the hell were you playing games with me?"

He took a slow step backward, a harsh, humorless laugh bubbling up from his throat. The gray in his eyes flickered with a sudden, raw betrayal.

"Oh... wait. I get it now."

He threw his hands up in a theatrical, bitter gesture, gesturing toward the dark tunnel where Kerwon had just vanished.

"It was for your precious Lord Vilucious. He gave the command himself, didn’t he?"

Cassius leaned in closer, his lips curling into a sharp, venomous smirk that couldn’t quite hide the hurt flashing beneath his analytical mask.

"Makes perfect sense," he spat, his voice dropping to a velvety, venomous whisper.

"Like boyfriend, like girlfriend."