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Chapter 19 - Despair and Hope
Lucien's ribs screamed in protest as he tried to sit up, coughing up blood. Every breath was agony. He barely managed to lift his head, and through the haze of pain, he saw boots—polished, blood-red boots—approaching.
The figure emerged like a nightmare. Black steel armor trimmed in Reynard's signature crimson—etched with a black sun—clung to a lean, deadly frame. A black and red cape of velvet draped over one shoulder, the fabric flowing with his movements.
The man removed his helmet, revealing a pale face with sharp features and black hair slicked back. His eyes were a deep icy blue, coldness and cruelty competing to peek through .
"Vern Balehart," Lucien rasped.
The infamous butcher. Reynard's most loyal executioner. A Warden.
"Ah, so the boy knows me." Vern smirked and crouched beside Lucien. "Who would have thought that we would end up in this situation someday. You so powerless before me." He mocked as he kicked Lucien in the ribs lightly, sending fresh waves of pain through his battered body.
'Not so mighty anymore without your guard dogs, are you?" He asked as he stepped on Lucien's arm cruelly, expecting some reaction.
Lucien only glared up at him, hatred blazing.
"You've got your father's eyes," Vern mused, tapping his armored fingers on his chin. "That same glare. You Aureville's always have some way to pull through some calamity." He regarded Lucien curiously.
"Look at you. The famous powerless disgrace, almost killing poor Caldus over there."
Vern seemed to remember Caldus. He stood and turned toward Caldus, who was leaning on his blade and still nursing his wounded shoulder.
"Look at you," Vern sneered. "A Grand Knight, bloodied and disgraced. Beaten by that brat. Reynard will be most disappointed."
Caldus didn't answer, his jaw tight.
"Pitiful," Vern spat, walking slowly back toward Lucien. "Well too bad for you. Maybe if you had escaped, whatever sorcery allowed you to awaken could have helped you." He mused as he walked around Lucien "Maybe you could have written your part of house Aureville's story. Been as great as your father and grandfather."
Vern stopped. "This is what makes it so fun. Finishing you off in the cradle." His cold eyes glinted with cruel satisfaction. "And maybe if I dig into you. I can find out what makes you Aurevilles so special." He said as he fished out a short dagger and plunged it into Lucien.
"Lucien!" Selene screamed as she leapt out of her hiding spot and ran towards Lucien. Her eyes were blazing with fury as she sent out a massive wave of light towards the warden.
Vern didn't even bother moving. The light splashed harmlessly over him, leaving nary a scratch.
He turned interested eyes on her, his eyes lighting up as he saw her dazzling beauty and voluptuous figure. He didn't even move as Selene came and knelt worriedly by Lucien's side, sobbing. His eyes just roamed around her body ravenously before he turned towards Lucien.
"You really are a lucky bastard. Only a night and you found such a pretty plaything." He tssked mockingly, "being a lordling is really different from us lowly servants."
His mouth then curled with a sinister lustful smile. "All the benefit to me though. I'll give her a taste of a real man. you'll even get to watch." He said as he made towards Selene.
Lucien's heart skipped a beat. "Don't touch her," he growled, blood in his mouth.
Vern tilted his head. "Oh? She's important to you?"
Selene glared at him too, tears in her eyes, but didn't move away. She shielded Lucien with her body protectively
"I am certain that i am going to enjoy this," Vern mused, hand drifting to his belt. "A duke's girl. I've never had one. I'll make sure to be thorough."
Lucien forced himself to rise. Pain shot up his spine. He gripped his sword's hilt with trembling fingers. Even now, with his body failing, he refused to lie down.
"Touch her," Lucien spat, "and I'll kill you."
Vern smiled. "You'll die either way."
He raised his hand, aura surging.
Then—
The forest shifted.
The air thickened, alive with unseen power. Birds took flight. Trees bent as if bowing. A pulse, like a heartbeat, thrummed beneath the soil.
The wind died. Everyone present froze, as if nailed still to the ground
And from the shadows, it stepped forth.
A creature of ancient grace.
Towering, antlered, majestic.
The deer's coat shimmered—white, silver, gold, and shadow—all at once. Its massive antlers curled like branches crowned in starlight. Each step it took left a trail of flowers and glowing moss in its wake. By its side trotted a fawn with golden hooves and a wolf pup with fur like winter mist.
Even Vern froze.
The deer's eyes glowed with ancient intelligence. They landed on Lucien, then flicked to Vern.
And then, without moving its lips, it spoke.
"How the mighty have fallen. The Guardian of the Aureville sanctum has actually fallen so low, hunted by such vermin. " it sighed. "Truly nothing lasts forever."
Its voice rang in their minds—calm, mournful, and full of sadness.
Lucien stared, awe rising through his pain.
"You..." he whispered. "You know my family?"
The stag nodded.
"I knew your grandfather, he was a very good friend. He helped me defend this dominion, and respected it's boundaries when he became it's lord. He was a great human, and so was your father."
The deer approached Lucien, its divine aura washing over him like warm water. The pain dulled. His vision cleared. He felt his injuries heal swiftly, much like when the system used heal. This was enough to trigger Vern.
Vern stepped forward, blade raised. "Out of my way, beast."
"Beast?" The word echoed like thunder. "You enter my domain draped in blood and venom. You threaten kin of a man I called brother. You dare raise your blade in my grove?"
Vern sneered. "Dare, who do you think you are?" he lunged.
A mistake.
The deer didn't move a single step.
Space bent.
