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The cave ran deep. Through an opening that resembled a natural window, the moon shone in the night sky.
The ground was uneven, covered in fragments of bones, broken weapons, and bodies piled without any order. Some were still recognizable as people; others had already been reduced to twisted shapes.
At the center of that heap, seated as if upon an improvised throne, was Niyx.
She looked strangely out of place in that scene. Her long hair, tinted somewhere between blue and green, fell freely down her back and shoulders, reflecting the cave’s light like stagnant water beneath a dead moon. Her bangs barely concealed her pink eyes, which stared into nothingness with a calm that felt almost offensive in the face of the surrounding massacre.
She wore clothes far too simple for someone in that place. Pale fabric, stained with dried blood, torn in a few spots yet intact where it truly mattered. There was no tension in her posture. One leg rested atop the bodies, her elbow propped on her knee, her chin supported by her hand, as if she were merely… waiting.
She sighed, long and bored.
“I think that’s enough,” she murmured, her low voice echoing through the cave.
A man emerged from the shadows behind her, wrapped in a white cloak that clashed aggressively with the environment. For a moment, he looked out of place, almost sacred, until he reached for the fabric.
The cloak was torn from his own body… and undone.
It did not fall to the ground. It disintegrated in midair, reduced to fragments of pale light that faded before touching the stone. Beneath it, Xanthir revealed himself fully: black hair falling carelessly, eyes far too alert for someone who claimed to be in control, and dark, practical clothing made to vanish into the gloom.
He surveyed the scene with a crooked half-smile.
The pile of bodies.
Niyx’s tranquility.
The cave scarred by recent violence.
“I see you found a way to entertain yourself while I was gone,” he remarked, his tone far too light for the place.
Niyx did not turn right away. She merely tilted her head enough to cast him a sideways glance, a curious glint rising in her pink eyes.
“They started it,” she replied. Simple. “I thought it would be rude not to finish. But then I kept killing them and more kept coming. They seem kind of stupid.”
Xanthir let out a short, humorless laugh.
He stepped forward, weaving between the bodies like someone already familiar with that kind of terrain. He stopped a few meters from her and crossed his arms.
“You’re sulking,” he stated plainly.
Niyx finally turned her face fully toward him. Their eyes met, without hostility, but without affection either.
“You left me out. I had to stay here the entire time. Of course I’m annoyed with you.” She made a vague gesture with her free hand. “You could’ve at least let me watch.”
“Well, I think that would’ve been pretty boring for you. You know, the plans required a lot of patience.” He chuckled. “Where’s Erebos? He arrived before I did, didn’t he?”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Yes. But he left. Said he had things to take care of.”
Xanthir watched her for a moment before replying. When he spoke, his tone was less casual.
“Sorry, Niyx. I couldn’t risk you going there.”
Niyx narrowed her eyes, intrigued.
“Reason?”
“You’d already been there before. You’d already left… traces. It would’ve been risky for someone to sense your mana, especially…” He sighed. “Orion, our client, would’ve definitely noticed.”
The silence stretched.
“So what?”
“You killed his father when he was younger, right? And you know how mana affects people.”
Niyx blinked once.
Then again.
“I did that?” she asked, genuinely confused. “I don’t remember.”
Xanthir smiled faintly.
“Your memory is the only thing that truly matches your age.”
She immediately scowled.
“I’m only Forty-five. People that age don’t usually forget things like that.” She crossed her arms, offended.
“Then you just killed a lot of people,” he replied without hesitation.
Niyx thought for a few seconds. She looked at the bodies around her, as if checking something.
“…Yeah. That makes sense.”
Xanthir let out a short sigh and changed the subject.
“And Lorian?”
“He left too.”
“Figured.”
He turned slightly, staring into the depths of the cave, thoughtful.
“In the end, hiring Telos and Honda was the right call to replace the two of you. Too bad everything went wrong. I suffered quite a bit just to set up that monster creator…”
“And what went wrong?”
“Well… Orion wanted to become king, but he didn’t want to cause that much destruction in the kingdom, so I had to be careful.”
In short, Plan A was to use monster attacks to destabilize the kingdom, so that eventually the people would turn against the royal family and Orion could step in as the savior.
Plan B was meant for the case where that failed. Telos and Honda would be captured, and the consequences of Plan A would be used to influence a coup. When that also failed, Plan C was set in motion. The most destructive one, using the two captives as tools to kill the royal family and partially destroy the kingdom.
“He was supposed to become king as a hero. First through fear, then through chaos, then through corpses. None of it worked.”
Niyx laughed.
“So your plan wasn’t that brilliant after all.”
Xanthir scratched the back of his neck.
“Hey, that’s cruel. Anyway, I don’t know how, but that metamorph caused Plans B and C to fail by extension.”
Her smile vanished.
“A metamorph?”
“Yes. Somehow, he managed to make Serena control her power. After everything, the endless winter disappeared. The main reason for the people’s revolt was gone, which led to a much more harmless outcome.” He glanced aside. “He also killed Orion, so in the end everything went wrong. But I got half the payment, so it was still worth it.”
Niyx’s eyes gleamed faintly.
“Oh? Didn’t you say something about turning him into a nightwalker?”
“Yeah. He won with Serena’s help, but he’s quite strong. Besides, Erebos wouldn’t stop complaining about him. Always saying his mana was just like yours. Erebos was able to notice. He’s annoyingly close to you, in his racist and peculiar way...”
The silence that followed was different from the others.
Niyx slowly stood up from the pile of bodies. When her feet touched the cave floor, the contrast became even more striking. She was standing there with no scratches on her skin, while everything around her remained in ruins.
“So the offspring of my descendant has finally been born. I think I’d like to see him.”
Xanthir raised an eyebrow.
“Oh right, you’re on that thing about wanting a descendant stronger than you.” He placed his hands behind his head. “What was the reason again?”
She did not answer right away. Her gaze drifted for a moment toward the cave’s opening, toward the distant moon.
“I’ve been feeling… kind of empty for a while.”
The answer was far too vague to be comforting.
Xanthir made an exaggerated grimace.
“How lovely.” He clapped once. “So you’re the kind of grandmother who hates the daughter and loves the grandson? How cruel. How do you think the poor girl would feel knowing she never got that kind of attention from mommy?”
Niyx turned toward him, clearly annoyed.
“Hmph. She’s not my daughter. She’s my progeny. Just like that metamorph isn’t my grandson. If he fails to surpass me like she did, then he was just another failure.”
“Alright, alright, my God. You metamorphs take this whole lineage thing very seriously.” He laughed. “Go on. We’re free of work for now.”
She nodded once.
“I’ll stay in touch. Relax.”
“Do you at least want to know his name?”
Niyx stopped but did not look back.
“It’s Victor. He’s already well adapted to humanity. So I think it’s best you don’t take any… overly abrupt initiatives.”
Niyx’s body vanished in the same instant, as if it had been erased from reality. Within seconds, nothing remained but the silent cave… and the dead.
Xanthir stood alone.
“Damn it… what am I supposed to do with this now?” he murmured, staring at the dozens of corpses.
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