NOVPUB
Chapter 33: 33:Drastic Change
At the peak of midnight.
The orphanage was quiet, with everyone sleeping soundly, dead tired after the day’s work.
The dim glow of lanterns casting long shadows against the worn wooden walls across the streets.
Electricity and gas were only accessible to the rich and nobles who could afford them.
Gare pushed open the creaky door and stepped inside, his boots making no sound against the cold stone floor. The air was thick with the scent of dust and candle wax.
Across the orphans in the front yard, a lone figure swung his sword in the dim light. Baret’s muscles tensed and relaxed with each precise movement, the blade cutting through the air with a soft whistle. Sweat clung to his skin, but he showed no sign of stopping.
"You should take a rest," Gare said casually, watching the relentless swings.
Baret didn’t even glance at him. "Resting won’t let me achieve what I am aiming for," he muttered, his voice low and distant.
A faint childish voice interrupted. "What do you aim for?"
Baret paused, lowering his blade slightly. He turned to see Chris standing near the doorway, his eyes wide with curiosity and something else reverence.
For a moment, Baret said nothing. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as memories clawed at the edges of his mind. He was a slum rat once.
A nameless boy who clawed his way out of filth and despair, chasing a dream of power and glory. But now—was he still chasing it, or just going through the motions?
Shaking his head, Baret looked at Gare instead. "What did you do with the city lord’s son? Did you kill him?"
"Isn’t it too rash?"
Gare smirked. "Nah....Nah..."
"The Lord told me not to make a mess we can’t clean up." He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "We just tied him up and hung him upside down at the gate of the Pleasure house and sent a little message to his father."
Baret blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You did that for real?"
"What? You thought Kael would kill him?" Gare chuckled.
Baret nodded.
"Yeah, I thought so too," Gare admitted. "But I guess the young master isn’t as reckless as he acts."
"So where is he?"
"He didn’t disclose anything but I can make a rough guess," Gare spoke, pausing for a moment.
"He might give the City Lord mansion a visit."
...
"My son..."
"My son, you better be alright.."
"Or else, I will burn down this entire damned town.."
Loreno rushed through the dimly lit streets, his heart pounding with unease.
Soon, the gates of a small mansion appeared in his eyes in which light seemed to flicker.
The scent of blood hung thick in the air, cloying and suffocating. His guards hesitated, their hands gripping their weapons tightly as they neared the Pleasure House.
The entrance gate was splintered, and the wooden doors cracked open like the ribs of a broken carcass.
Inside, the yard was grotesque.
Corpses littered the floor, twisted in unnatural angles, their expressions frozen in terror. Blood pooled beneath them, soaking into the wooden planks. Some bodies were missing limbs, others had deep, precise cuts that spoke of brutal efficiency. The furniture inside was shattered, chairs broken, tables overturned. Curtains hung in tatters, splattered with crimson.
Loreno’s stomach churned. His son...where was his son?
"Search Bary... I want him alive..." His voice wavered, desperation creeping in.
His men moved swiftly, combing through the wreckage, but then— 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓅𝓊𝓫.𝒸ℴ𝓶
"Look up!"One of the guards shouted.
Loreno’s breath hitched as his gaze lifted.
A figure stood on the roof cloaked in shadows, holding a bloodied, mangled mass in his grip. The dim light from the torches barely illuminated his face, but the mocking amusement in his tone was unmistakable.
"Are you searching for this?"
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the body.
Swoosh!
THUD!
The lifeless body plummeted through the air. It landed with a sickening sound bouncing slightly before coming to a stop at Loreno’s feet.
Loreno’s mind went blank. His vision blurred. The world around him seemed to shrink. His hands trembled as he reached out, his fingers barely brushing the cold, bloodied skin.
His son.
Unrecognizable.
Face swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Bones protruding from his limbs in unnatural places. His once-proud garments were now nothing more than tattered rags soaked in his blood broken by torture.
The eyes were opened wide showcasing the deep agony and despair he went through before death.
"B... Ba... Ba..." Loreno stammered, his knees giving out as he collapsed beside the corpse. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest tightening, constricting like a vice. His heart pounded so violently he thought it might burst.
Memories flooded his mind—his son as a child, running through the halls, laughing, calling him "Father." The pride he felt watching him grow. And now, all of it was gone.
Erased. Replaced with this nightmarish horror.
Terror gripped his soul, squeezing the air from his lungs. His vision darkened at the edges. He wanted to scream, to wail, but no sound came. His body was paralyzed by fear, his very existence crumbling under the weight of what he was witnessing.
Above him, the cloaked man clicked his tongue.
"You shouldn’t have made an enemy out of me, Loreno. You shouldn’t..."
Then—
Laughter.
It was low and soft at first which started to rise.
A maddening, bone-chilling laugh that echoed through the bloodstained ruins, burrowing deep into Loreno’s very being. It was a laugh that carried no joy—only malice, only a promise of further ruin.
The figure leaned forward slightly, his sneer visible beneath his hood.
"If you want revenge," he whispered, his voice dripping with amusement, "come to the orphanage and enact it yourself."
He turned to leave but paused to speak," I am talking about the orphanage where we met first. You remember right?"
With that, he turned, his cloak billowing as he vanished into the night.
Loreno’s vision cleared as he dawned on the conclusion about the identity of the man.
His body surged with rage, his grief twisting into a monstrous fury. His throat burned as he threw his head back and screamed—
"KAAAELLLLLLLLLLLL!"
