The room's air, once heavy with monotony, shifted sharply as Alyssara Velcroix twirled a pen between her fingers, her pink hair cascading over her shoulders. She yawned theatrically, staring at the towering stack of documents in front of her.
"How boring," she sighed, leaning back lazily, the chair creaking under her weight.
"You'll live," her brother, Kaelith, muttered, not even sparing her a glance as he meticulously reviewed his own pile of papers. His hair gleamed under the flickering chandelier, and his sharp eyes were narrowed in focus.
"Do I have to do all of this?" she asked, drawing out the last word with exaggerated exhaustion.
"Yes, big sis," Kaelith replied, his tone clipped and gleeful. "You dumped this on me for years. Now it's your turn."
"I did it because my little brother is so capable~" she cooed, her smile impish, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Kaelith finally looked up, unimpressed. "That won't work on me." He turned away, his lips twitching with the faintest smirk.
Alyssara pouted, resting her chin on her hand. To any outsider, their exchange would seem like harmless sibling bickering. Nobody would believe that these two stood at the helm of the Red Chalice Cult, a force capable of rivaling entire continents. Alyssara Velcroix, the strongest being on Earth, and Kaelith, her second-in-command, were figures who inspired awe and fear in equal measure.
Suddenly, Alyssara straightened, her teasing demeanor evaporating. Her smile twisted into something sharper, darker. Kaelith frowned, noticing the shift in her expression.
"Big sis?" he ventured, his grip tightening on his sword hilt.
Alyssara didn't reply. Her gaze flicked to the door, her lips curling into an almost feral grin.
The alarms blared a moment later.
"Intruder!" Kaelith barked, leaping to his feet. Mana surged around him like a coiled spring, ready to strike. "Who dares to—"
Alyssara held up a hand. "Don't bother."
"What?"
"You'll die," she said matter-of-factly, her eyes glittering with something between amusement and anticipation.
Kaelith's heart skipped. Die? That was absurd. He was peak Immortal-rank, second only to his sister within the Cult. The idea that anyone could pose such a threat to him, here, in the very heart of the Red Chalice Cult, was laughable.
And yet.
The door exploded inward, splinters flying as a figure stepped through the chaos. Kaelith's sword was drawn in an instant, the blade humming with latent energy.
But Alyssara only laughed. "Stand down, Kaelith."
"Why?" he growled, his instincts screaming at him to act.
"Because," Alyssara said, stepping forward, "he's finally awakened." Her voice was laced with a strange, almost maternal pride. She stopped just before the intruder, her smile growing wider. "Isn't that right, Arthur?"
A blade hovered inches from her throat, the slightest tilt already drawing a bead of blood. Arthur Nightingale stood before her, his expression calm, his azure eyes colder than the blade itself.
"Big sis!" Kaelith shouted, stepping forward, but the instant he moved, something struck him. A phantom slash, precise and devastating, left a thin line of blood across his chest. He stumbled back, his hand trembling as he clutched at the shallow wound.
Arthur's blade hadn't moved.
'What was that?' Kaelith thought, his breathing unsteady. 'That wasn't killing intent… it was something far worse.'
"You've surpassed even your master," Alyssara said, her voice carrying a strange fondness. She reached out to touch the blade lightly, her fingers grazing its edge. "But I imagine you're not here to kill me."
Arthur tilted his head, his lips curling into a wry smile. "Why would I waste the effort? I simply don't like you enough to not point a sword at your throat."
"Such a gentleman," she teased, her pink eyes gleaming with mirth. "It's almost endearing."
Arthur's expression didn't change. Without warning, he moved. Hundreds of strikes shot out in the blink of an eye, each one laced with deadly intent. Alyssara matched him effortlessly, her fingers weaving through the air like a seamstress threading needlework, dismantling every blow before they could land.
Kaelith's breath caught. Arthur was at the same mana rank as him, but the power behind his strikes, the precision of his movements, was on a completely different level. Alyssara, of course, remained unflappable.
"So, why are you here?" she asked, her tone light, conversational, as though they weren't dueling.
Arthur lowered his blade slightly. "You kept surprising me by showing up unannounced. I thought it was time I returned the favor."
"How thoughtful," Alyssara quipped, tilting her head. "And the real reason?"
Arthur's smirk widened. "I'm going to destroy the other four Cults. And I need your help."
Alyssara's laughter was musical, almost melodic. "Why would I help you?"
"Because you love me," Arthur said simply, his voice even, his gaze unwavering. "You want me to grow as much as I can so you can devour me whole—cage me, body and soul, at my peak. Isn't that what you really want?"
Alyssara's laughter stopped. For the first time, her playful mask slipped, her smile thinning into something unreadable.
"You've grown sharp, Arthur," she murmured. Her fingers traced the faint scratch on her neck where his blade had kissed her skin. "Sharp enough to cut through most things. But are you sharp enough to cut through me?"
"Let's find out," Arthur replied, raising Nyxthar.
The air between them crackled, the tension mounting.
And then Alyssara laughed again, stepping back. "Fine. I'll help you."
Kaelith's jaw dropped. "Big sis—"
"Quiet, Kaelith," she said, silencing him with a glance. "Arthur's right. It'll be far more interesting to watch him climb higher." Her smile returned, wicked and knowing. "After all, the higher he climbs, the harder he'll fall. And when he does… he'll fall right into my hands."
Arthur turned his blade downward, slipping it into his spatial ring with a deliberate motion, his glare fixed firmly on Alyssara. The tension between them hung like a storm cloud, charged and waiting to explode.
Alyssara, however, seemed utterly unfazed. Her lips curled into a playful smile, a stark contrast to Arthur's sharp, guarded demeanor. "But I do want something in return for my help," she said, her voice dripping with amusement.
Arthur's brow furrowed. "And what's that?" he asked, his tone tight and wary.
"You under me," Alyssara replied smoothly, tracing her fingers in the shape of a heart over her chest, her pink hair catching the dim light of the chamber. The gesture was equal parts teasing and provocative.
"Hell no," Arthur shot back without hesitation, his voice a mix of exasperation and disgust.
Alyssara pouted, feigning a wounded expression. "Aw, so cold," she said, placing a hand over her chest as though he'd struck her. "Well, I suppose that's asking a bit much. How about base zero, then?"
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, suspicion lacing his words.
"No kissing, no funny business—just a little light physical contact," she said with a mischievous wink, as though she were discussing something trivial rather than turning his patience into a fraying thread.
Kaelith, standing a few steps behind Alyssara, could barely contain his disbelief. 'What the hell am I even watching? Is this really my sister?' His mind reeled as he watched her unabashed display of infatuation. This wasn't the cold, calculating leader he knew—the woman who ruled the Red Chalice Cult with an iron fist and an indomitable will. She looked utterly unhinged, and yet Kaelith couldn't deny that Alyssara was entirely in control of the situation.
Arthur's expression darkened, his azure eyes glinting like shards of ice. Alyssara held his gaze, her playful smile unwavering.
"Don't worry," she said with an exaggerated sigh, waving her hand dismissively. "If I really wanted anything more, I would have taken it by now. You know you can't stop me. Not yet."
Arthur didn't respond immediately, his silence carrying more weight than any retort could. The air between them thrummed with unspoken challenges, a battlefield where neither was willing to take the first step back.
"But credit where it's due," Alyssara said, her voice softening as she leaned slightly closer to Arthur. "You've grown. Really, you've grown so much, it's ridiculous. You're not just strong—you're terrifyingly strong."
Arthur's fists clenched at her words, but she wasn't finished. Her tongue flicked out briefly to wet her lips, her eyes narrowing as though savoring the sight of him.
"And I can't wait to see just how much higher you can climb," she said, her voice tinged with a strange mix of admiration and hunger. "Because when you reach the peak, Arthur, that's when I'll be waiting."
Arthur's voice, when it came, was calm and cutting. "You might want to rethink that. By the time I reach the top, Alyssara, you might not like what you find."
Her laughter echoed through the chamber, light and melodic, but with an undercurrent of something darker. "Oh, Arthur, darling," she said, her grin widening. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Kaelith groaned internally, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'Why do I feel like I'm the only sane one here?'
Arthur straightened, brushing past Alyssara with a cold precision that spoke volumes. "Your obsession is going to be your downfall," he said over his shoulder as he headed for the exit.
Alyssara didn't reply immediately, her smile lingering as her gaze followed him. "We'll see," she murmured, her voice barely audible. Then, louder, she added, "Don't keep me waiting too long, Arthur. You wouldn't want to disappoint me."
Arthur's reply was a dismissive wave of his hand, his silhouette vanishing into the hallway beyond. For a moment, the room was silent, save for Kaelith's quiet exhale of relief.
"Sis," he began cautiously, "what the hell was that?"
Alyssara's smile widened as she turned to her brother, her expression unreadable. "Just a little game, Kaelith. A very long, very dangerous game." She flicked her wrist, sending a pulse of mana to shut the door Arthur had exited through.
Kaelith shook his head, muttering, "You're insane."
Alyssara's laughter filled the room again, light and unrestrained. "Maybe," she said, her pink eyes glinting with amusement. "But isn't that what makes it fun?"