Elizalina left the residence, the once beautiful mansion lay in ruins, ash shrouding the lavish flooring, cracks on the floor and shattered pillars and walls. The large chandelier lay half destroyed with shards littered everywhere.
Alicarde knew the mansion would restore itself, thanks to its impressive mystical restorative functions. The enchantments [Auto Keep] would return the mansion to its original form.
He sighed, noticing the smoldering ruins. He was glad Elizalina didn't die. He wondered if she had overestimated her own power or underestimated Carrisa. Whatever it was, she must have been quite reckless or desperate to even think of challenging them in their home base.
He turned to Carrisa with a playful glint in his eye. "You know, Carrisa, you really have a knack for burning down your own residence. At this rate, we're going to need a full-time construction crew just to keep up with you, Madam Arsonist."
Carrisa was caught off guard by his words. When she realized what he had said, she crossed her arms and pouted.
"It is not as though I do it intentionally. Besides, such measures are necessary to rid ourselves of those pests. Referring to me as an arsonist is rather unkind."
Alicarde raised an eyebrow, still smiling. "Oh, so arson is just part of your extermination plan? You should put that on a business card, 'Princess of Arson.' What a very gentle name."
She huffed, turning her head away. "You are fortunate that I am also quite adept at restoration."
Alicarde rolled his eyes, full of mirth. "I don't recall you restoring anything. Last time, you coerced the Night Shades into fixing your mess."
Carrisa glared at him playfully. "They were the ones who initiated it."
"That's not what I heard. I leave you alone for a few minutes, and you burn the whole house down," Alicarde smiled, letting all his worries fade to the back of his mind.
Alicarde was in a good mood, as good as he could be after the events at the docks. Argint stormed in between them, eyes blazing with fury. Before he could react, she landed a solid punch to his gut, making him double over in pain.
"That's for inviting a vampire into the house!" Argint growled, her voice low and menacing.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if she had killed one of us?" She followed it with a kick. "She was your girlfriend, no less."
Alicarde winced, straightening up slowly. "I know, Argint. I thought... wait a minute. Are you jealous... no way, someone is jelly..."
Argint's frown deepened as she kicked him again, her eyes cold.
Alicarde was bathed in ash. "Ouch, my back. I think you just killed me."
Argint's expression softened slightly, but her eyes remained fierce. "Do not make the same mistake again. We cannot afford it, you fool! And I am not jealous."
She held her head as if to ward off a headache. "I cannot believe I allowed a vampire to go free. At this rate, I might actually be the worst werewolf alive."
"No, you won't. Did you forget you are half-human? So only half of you would be the worst werewolf alive," Alicarde teased.
Argint sighed. "I feel like I get brain rot the more time I spend around you."
"Good to know I'm such a positive influence," Alicarde laughed.
Argint sighed, ignoring him. She must have known if she played along, he'd never stop.
It wasn't long before the ruined mansion, a marvel of magic and architecture, soon restored itself back to its pristine visage. Alicarde was always confused about how the restoration worked, but it didn't matter. It was back. The magical secrets behind it weren't something he cared to learn about.
Alicarde didn't dwell too much on the events of the day. He had to confront his demons and decide which path to take going forward. The path of an avenger was the choice he had made. He had joined Carrisa in a bid to keep his human family away from the inhuman threats of the new world he found himself in.
However, for the most part, he had accepted going with the otherworldly beauty known as Carrisa because, in his mind, he had acknowledged that he had no other choice, and somehow on a subconscious level, he wanted to go with her. It was almost like an intuitive response.
Alicarde thought back to his choices. They had led him here.
'Life is just a series of choices and decisions. A choice I made yesterday affects my today, and today's choices affect my tomorrow,' he pondered.
He came to the inevitable conclusion that he could no longer procrastinate. Some people just deserved to die. He would have to be the one who did the killing. He couldn't allow those animals to live. With that, he decided he was going to meet her at last.
The next day, Alicarde walked through the sterile halls of the hospital, the scent of antiseptic filling his nose. He paused outside a room, seeing Lily's father sitting despondently in a chair, staring at nothing. The poor man was a miserable sight to behold. Alicarde's heart turned colder at the sight of her father, another victim. He hated them even more.
Alicarde slipped past him silently, entering Lily's room.
Lily lay in bed, staring into space, her eyes empty and unseeing. Alicarde approached her quietly, his heart aching.
"Lily," he whispered. She didn't respond. The girl remained still, just looking into the distant nothingness before her.
"I came here to tell you...ahhh.. I had a whole speech and everything. I spent the whole day running this through in my head... now that I see you, I can't even say the words."
He sat on her hospital bed, his expression forlorn. "I'm so sorry, Lily. I failed you. I should have protected you. I should have saved your mom."
She didn't respond. She seemed lost, observing something in the distance he could not see. But as he turned to leave, her hand shot out, grabbing his sleeve.
"Mr. Hero," she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
He turned back, surprised. "Lily."
Her unfocused eyes regained focus, the deep blue felt like the sea. Her auburn hair was kept neat, a testament that she was cared for.
"You... you're alive. I'm so happy you're fine... I was... so scared the big monster got you too."
"I am. I didn't die. We made it out together, but... I'm sorry I couldn't save your mom. I'm so sorry," Alicarde whispered.
The young girl had tears in her eyes, her lifeless visage regaining the hues of a young girl.
"It's not your fault, hero. You tried to save mommy. You saved me too," she said, her eyes slowly focusing on him, tears streaming down her face.
Her little hand wrapped around his own.
"The bad guys won this time, but the hero always comes and beats the bad guys, just like Storm Man. Right, Mr. Hero? You aren't going to give up, right? So don't lose. Make the bad guys pay... for my mommy," her voice turned into a muffled sob. "You can defeat the monsters."
Alicarde shook his head, tears in his eyes. He held them back. "Yeah, I can. No... I will, so you've got nothing to worry about. I'll get revenge for us and make them pay."
Alicarde placed a hand on her head. "So you have to be strong for your daddy, okay?"
Lily managed a weak smile, her grip on his sleeve tightening. "Okay... I'll be strong."
He nodded, determination hardening his features. "I promise you, they will pay. I won't stop. Not until every last one of them is gone. So let's make one final pinky promise for revenge."
Alicarde raised his little finger toward her. The girl's tears fell like waterfalls as she raised her hand, locking it into his pinky.
"You... you're a really strong girl, Lily. Your mom would be proud of you," Alicarde whispered.
The girl was silent, her blue eyes staring into him. She silently held his hand as if afraid that if she let go, the monster would come back.
They sat in silence for a minute. Alicarde silently observed the young girl—she had seen so much horror, yet she was still here. He decided to lighten the mood, telling her some jokes, teasing her.
At first, she seemed confused, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand. But he kept going, refusing to give up until he finally managed to make her laugh. The sound of her giggle was like a balm for his somber mood. It made him feel better, as if her laughter was the cure for the weight he carried.
'Kids these days aren't just smarter, they're stronger,' he thought. 'That little girl was tough stuff.'
Finally, Alicarde stood up and left her hospital room after assuring her they would see each other again.
She was reluctant to let him go, her small hand hesitating to release his, but he couldn't stay. He didn't want her father to see him—it would be too difficult to explain how he knew the girl. he also hadn't attended any of his classes today. He had skipped them all just to be here.
As he stepped into the hallway, the hospital felt different—destitute, with the lights flickering unusually. He didn't pay much attention to it. What did catch his eye was that Lily's father was no longer outside the room. In fact, no one was there. The halls were quiet, almost unsettlingly so.
Alicarde walked past a man and felt a strange sense of familiarity wash over him. He tried to place where he had seen him before, but after a few seconds, he gave up. There were more pressing matters—he had business to handle with the city's underbelly, with all the human garbage involved. No time to figure out who was who.
He walked deeper into the hospital, trying to find the exit. But after several minutes of wandering, he realized he had been walking in circles. He frowned, frustrated, and turned his gaze downward, where something strange caught his eye.
A pattern on the floor, barely visible, camouflaged to blend in with the hospital's color scheme. His eyes widened in realization—it was a magic circle.
As soon as he recognized it, the circle illuminated, its light flooding the halls and washing over him. His body immediately felt weak. The air around him became thick with an unknown gas mixed with a substance he was all too familiar with.
"Whitewood Ash," he whispered, feeling his heart drop as the fog filled his lungs.
His legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees, the sensation of vertigo crashing over him in waves. The world spun violently, making it nearly impossible for him to stand.
He tried to push himself up, but his strength was gone. Through blurred vision, he caught sight of the silhouette of the man he had passed earlier.
Forcing himself back to his feet, Alicarde swayed unsteadily.
"Who... who the....hell.. are you...?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Before he could get a response, the hospital doors flew open, and people in hospital uniforms wearing oxygen masks rushed in. They fired projectiles at him. He managed to evade a few, but his body was too weak to dodge them all.
Most of the projectiles hit their target, and as they pierced his skin, he realized they were syringes filled with unknown chemicals. Whitewood Ash burned in his veins, further weakening him, its searing pain making him wince.
The assailants charged at him, hoping to take him down. The first person reached him, only to be met with a punch to the diaphragm. They collapsed, gasping for air. The second followed shortly, barely catching a punch before crumpling to the floor. But with each movement, Alicarde's strength waned further.
Despite his weakened state, he held back, careful not to kill. He only wanted to incapacitate them. But they weren't deterred. Realizing he was still too strong, they fired more projectiles at him.
His eyelids grew heavy, half-lidded from the exhaustion setting in. The vertigo worsened, and in his haze, he fell onto his back. He struggled for a moment longer, but the weight of weakness overtook him. He closed his eyes and let go, succumbing to the darkness.