CHAPTER 101: | MISTAKES
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It was a wonderful attempt, yet pitiful, Samantha.
Why do you adore me this much?
Even when we’ve only known each other for a brief moment, you’d still willingly do the best of your capabilities to help me?
It was a question that bugged me for lifetimes, 'just why did she sacrifice herself for me?'
It was a wonder that I couldn’t solve, nor will I ever be…
A call was all I needed from her.
Only a call would she need to command me, to direct me to a task that she couldn’t do, or save her from any danger.
And today was her first call.
There was no hesitation in my movement.
With just a single step, I vanished from my throne and reappeared in front of her without a question, catching the blade that Lumicor hurled at her.
The sheer heat seared my insides, but I didn't flinch.
I ignored my pained form, the hole that was marred in my back to my chest, as I asked her.
“Why… why would you foolishly underestimate him?”
Tears welled in her eyes, dripping down her cheeks.
Shock, disbelief, and guilt riddled her features.
She couldn’t believe it, that just a momentary carelessness from her
would lead to such an irreversible damage to her beloved.
Would he still love her if he found out that she was nothing but a dirty schemer, who was ugly even in her heart?
She thought that this would help him, thinking that Lumicor was still the same as before but just a bit stronger, not knowing that he wasn’t just a bit stronger, but he was far stronger, as if he had undergone an evolution.
This was a lesson, her lesson to learn, not to underestimate anyone, lest would she suffer from her mistakes.
She gazed at the man, at Alister, who now bore a hole in his stomach, still smiling at her, a perfect, beatific expression entirely detached from the mortal wound.
She clenched her teeth in anger, at the anger that she, an ugly woman, had blemished such a beauty.
Her gums bled at her frustration, but she didn’t show it, since etiquette was more important to her.
She wore a calm face, so calm that one wouldn’t know what her cute small head was thinking, that she was blaming herself.
Her delicate hands were shaking minutely where they hung at her sides.
“Hahaha! Don’t blame yourself, Samantha, since I was too careless!”
Samantha recoiled in disgust, not at me still smiling even with a hole in my stomach, but at the disgust that this man didn’t blame her for her mistakes.
He dismissed her grave error with such effortless grace that it felt like an insult to her competence.
Now she couldn’t avoid her responsibilities, the responsibilities of a noble, that he or she who had done the other wrong should compensate him or her with something of equivalent value.
Nobles are gracious, we don’t return favor with malice.
We are highborn, the definitive of elegance.
We are nobles who protect the commons.
We are blue blooded highborn who rule the common, so ingrained it in your mind that we nobles don’t act inelegant.
Samantha sighed, then took a more firmer stance as she reached out for the sword, ready to bear her punishment if it meant to repay this man just a little.
But soon she was stopped by a muscular, yet feminine hand, stopping her from her advances.
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“Nobles don’t leave scars on their sacred bodies… so stop what you are doing, Samantha.”
Samantha flinched at my words, since it is in the code of etiquette that he or she who is born with blue blood shall not blemish his or her sacred body, as it is hideous.
We nobles bare scars in our spirits since it won’t show in the physical, but scarring the sacred body is neigh sinful, for nobles don’t show scars to the commons.
Finishing reciting it in her mind, Samantha regained her reasons as she stopped.
Then she gazed at the man straight into the eye before she interlocked her fingers into his.
The contact felt like ice and fire.
“You had no right to remind me of my noble obligations, Alister Von Fai, since we nobles are aware of them. Don’t forget that I now owe you a favor.”
Her eyes were extremely cold at having her pride as a noble insulted.
She grabbed his collar, then pressed her lips into the shocked man.
Then she let go in the next second as she merely watched the confusion in the man’s face.
He tasted of sweet like a raspberry and the coppery scent of his own blood.
“We possess what we want to possess, so forget everything and be mine.”
Impressed at her mistress’s coldness, Solia couldn’t help but gaze at Samantha in a new light.
Tears welled in her eyes since it was the first time that she saw her master flustered.
Flustered at her mistress’s boldness, she just couldn’t believe that someone that was as meek as a rabbit in a grassy plain would have such a side.
Her mistress, while appearing meek, was extremely cold to everyone, even to her master.
Solia knew the emotions she showed were deliberate attempts to manipulate others into thinking the way she wanted them to, Samantha was calculative as fuck.
Even when she struck a conversation, it was all within her grasp, not knowing that you’ve foolishly spilt information about your side, only if you’re unguarded.
Her smile vanished as her gaze turned cold, watching the man with the form of a god sending yet another sword to impale her master.
Even though her master was a piece of shit that no redemption could bring salvation to his rotten personality, still he didn’t deserve to be interrupted in this moment.
Solia nodded at her master as she closed her eyes.
Then, with a practiced breathing, she leaped toward the incoming sword before clenching her one of her sword tightly.
Her knuckles cackled with white lightning in her absolute focus.
“Lightning Draw.”
Her words settled sharply like the edge of the blade as a streak of light flashed out from the edge of her blade in a supersonic speed as it phased through the radiant sword with ease.
Swoosh!
Then she smiled at her improvement.
If before she couldn’t even hope to block this attack with all of her power, now she could completely cut it with a single draw, all thanks to his inheritance.
“Surtr… thanks.”
Solia finally mustered these very phrases that she wouldn’t dare to think of in the past.
But now, having gleamed of the life that Surtr lived, she couldn’t just bring herself to hate him.
Since she now knew of the guilt, of the pain that man carried for killing his wife, for killing the villagers that he knows since his childhood, under the influence of the Dragon God.
Now her hatred was solely focused on the Dragon God.
Now, with her newfound power that nearly rivaled that to Surtr in his original strength, she herself would exact vengeance on those tormented by the Dragon God.
Lumicor was dissatisfied at the woman before him challenging his authority.
Had he, the god of Dreadnought, fall too low that even a mere ant could play the notion of challenging his authority?
The currents around him grew heavy, pressed by an unknown pressure.
He frowned at the mere notion of that, that he, Lumicor, would fall too low, was impossible.
Those gods would have to pay in the future for gaining his displeasure.
But this woman would have to be the first in his long list to get disciplined, that challenging a god was never a good idea and worst if it was him, Lumicor.
He flicked his hand as embers rose, then flared into a thousand degrees as it covered the currents like petals from the tree falling into the ground.
It was a beautiful scene until it… quivered subtly, then transformed into swords of starlight that blanketed the sky with the soft radiance of the stars.
Then, with a wave of his hand, all of the swords vanished from sight as it flickered in and out of reality, traveling hundreds of meters per split second, as he now turned his attention to his companion.
“I didn’t think that the great Mother of the Lake would fall this low.”
He was amused at how did this woman, who was so willful and a tease, be this meek?
Just what did that woman do to her that made her this fearful?
Amara was extremely pale from the memory that resurfaced in her mind.
It was the memory that she regretted, the memory of the time where she obtained that unknown power.
The power that turned the tides and let her survive her predicament, the moment when the embodiment of pride had took an interest at her.
The nights that she spent with him, the relentless nights where he tortured her until she was left broken with her newfound power, not knowing that she had already become a monster and that she was carrying her…
“L-Lumicor… m-my dear son, please… kill me!”
Her shouts were frantic.
She was nervous, too nervous that the demon inside her would awaken.
She feared it, feared that she would kill her son, the husband of her child, Melissa.
Her pupils were dilated to pinpricks, darting wildly.
“Please, child! I beg you! Kill this mother of yours! Let me perish with this beast!”
He gazed at her mother, at the mother that he accepted the moment she was wed with her daughter.
It was the first that she saw her this broken, that she wished nothing but death.
“Mother… rest for now.”
For the first time since she became her mother, Lumicor had finally uttered those words.
But Amara wasn’t the slightest calmed by his call as she shouted more frantically.
“Lumicor! Please! Please! Kill this mother of yours before I could hurt you!”
Her shouts echoed violently, but Lumicor just gazed at her coldly as he waved his hand as hundreds of chains writhed on all of her limbs, chaining her down.
She was in despair that her son wouldn’t grant her her wishes but sealed her in this state, making her unable to kill herself.
Her chest heaved erratically.
Her eyes darted frantically, searching the hundreds of chains that clung to her skin for an answer that would set her free.
It was this damned chain, the one that sealed her mana, that would doom them all.
“I-is this the end for me?”
