Rebirth System: Blood and Ash

The air seemed to thicken even more, pressing down on Aric's chest as though daring him to speak, to answer the guard's demand.

But Aric's mind was clear, his eyes narrowing as he studied the guard's stance, the tension in his body, the way his fingers hovered near his blade.

Behind the guard, Lady Lisellie watched him, her expression smug, triumphant, as though she had already won. In her eyes, Aric saw a gleam of satisfaction, a belief that she had outplayed him, that her shattered crystal had sealed his fate.

But she didn't understand, couldn't understand. This was only a step in a much larger game, a moment he had anticipated, even hoped for.

The Imperial Guard's boot struck the floor, heavy and unyielding, inching toward Aric like the last steps before a drop-off, promising death with any flicker of resistance. His hand wrapped tighter around the hilt of his sword, a quiet but potent threat.

The guard's silence filled the room with more menace than words ever could. Aric could feel the air growing tense, thick with the scent of iron from the broken crystal. The guard's face remained a stoic mask, yet his intention was clear in the piercing stillness: one wrong move, and his blade would slice through flesh without hesitation.

Aric held his ground, his heartbeat calm, unfazed. If it came to a battle, Aric knew he held the upper hand—he wasn't alone. Serina and Borag, his companions, would ensure the guard's defeat if it came to that.

But Aric needed no drawn blades. This wasn't the time for a fight. Not yet.

One word, one truth was all he needed. He could say who he was, that he was Prince Aric Valerian, and the guard's duty would shift in an instant. As by law, loyalty to the imperial family came first, even above the life of any other noble.

With that single word, the guard would be bound to stand by and watch without intervention, even if Aric decided to kill Liselle. He could torture and harm her through the night, and the guard would simply bear witness, duty holding his tongue and action in silence.

However to simply reveal himself to the guard would be far more problems than its worth, the guard could not harm Aric, but he could report his identity to Sylas which would be quite problematic.

A solution however, had already been conjured since the start. He let his fingers drift through the air, slipping out the small dagger he'd toyed with in the carriage from nothing. Its polished edge caught the dim light, and as he raised it, a glint of silver flashed across the etched crest on the blade's handle—a symbol of royalty, unmistakable to any servant of the empire.

Recognition flickered in the guard's eyes, and his grip faltered. He bowed his head, a silent acknowledgment of Aric's position, of the blood that marked his lineage as untouchable.

The tension drained from the guard's stance, replaced by deference as he took a step back, shoulders dropping into a submissive pose.

A faint smile crept onto Aric's lips, hidden beneath the shadow of his mask. He turned, letting his gaze settle on Liselle. Her face twisted in confusion as she struggled to process what was happening. But as realization dawned, fear widened her eyes, and her voice split the silence.

"No… what are you doing? Stop him!" Her words were frantic, filled with dread.

Aric was unmoved. He stepped forward, seizing her wrists, wrenching her from the bed with a brutal grip. Her body flinched against his hold, her feeble attempts at resistance only spurring him to press harder. He lifted her arms, pinning her wrists against the cold wall above her head. She squirmed, her breaths quick and panicked, but his grasp remained firm, unyielding.

In a voice that carried no warmth, twisted into a distorted, gravelly pitch to ensure it was unrecognisable, he murmured, "You're lucky Sylas loves you… but he is unlucky that he does."

Her eyes blazed with rage, but a tremor of fear made her glare falter.

Her voice choked in her throat, unable to form a response as he held her there, his gaze unfeeling. In one swift motion, he produced a small sheet of parchment from his inventory and pressed it against her open palm, pinning it to the wall along with her hand.

The royal dagger flashed once more as he drove it through her palm, puncturing both paper and flesh, binding her hand to the wall in a single, swift motion. Her scream was raw and guttural, piercing the silence as blood oozed from her hand, trailing down her wrist and dripping onto her face, crowning her in a horrific halo of crimson.

Aric watched, expressionless, as the blood pooled and stained her hair and skin, a reminder of her fate..one he knew and often contemplated a long while. Her chest heaved with sobs of agony, her strength slipping away as the pain consumed her.

Aric turned to the guard, his voice cold and sharp.

"Inform the second prince of what has happened here. And no one is to enter this room until he arrives." The command was clear.

The guard's response was immediate. He nodded, his figure blurring in a swift movement as he disappeared, carrying Aric's orders like the whisper of a ghost.

Aric turned and left the room without another glance at Liselle, her broken form slumped against the wall, blood staining her hands and wrists as her breathing grew shallow. Outside, Serina and Borag awaited him, their expressions steady but laced with grim satisfaction.

Aric paused, taking in their presence.

"Is it done?" he asked, his tone low, but the words cut through the night air like the edge of a blade.

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Borag nodded, his voice gruff.

"All in the main estate of House Brielle… have been slaughtered."

A hint of satisfaction flickered in Aric's eyes. He gave a short, approving nod. "Good job," he replied, his words simple yet heavy with meaning.

They slipped into the darkness, their steps soundless, leaving the Brielle estate cloaked in the stillness of death.