Lucian's eyes narrowed as he loomed over his captive, a flicker of cold calculation dancing in his gaze like the glint of a blade in the moonlight. "I won't torture you." he said, his voice low and deliberate, dripping with a quiet menace. "If you'll give me a healing pill."
The man let out a dry, raspy laugh, the sound like gravel scraping against metal. "Fine." he replied, without a trace of hesitation, as if the very concept of fear had been wrung out of him long ago.
Lucian blinked, momentarily thrown off-balance. He had been cycling through a labyrinth of schemes to extract the pill, each more cruel than the last. Yet, this simple acceptance was a twist he hadn't foreseen.
The man's eyes held Lucian's gaze steadily, as if studying the depths of a turbulent sea and finding nothing in its storm to be afraid of. "Don't get the wrong idea." the captive said. "If you're going to kill me anyway, what's the point of resisting?"
Lucian's surprise flickered into irritation. "You're not angry?" he asked, a sharp edge of incredulity in his voice. "After everything I did to you, and now you're just... going to die?"
The man chuckled, a bitter sound that seemed to mock the very notion of fate. "Angry?" he repeated, as though tasting the word. "No. I won't die because of you. I'll die because of my own incompetence." His voice was laced with a quiet resignation, like the wind sighing through a graveyard, where the names on the tombstones have long been forgotten.
He took a breath, his expression shifting to one of weary acceptance. "I don't have the healing pills on me. The other guy who came with me does. If he's dead, his storage ring will unlock automatically. Search him."
Lucian's eyes darkened, a flash of suspicion glinting beneath the surface. "Hand over your storage ring first." he demanded, his tone as cold as steel.
The man didn't argue, didn't flinch. He simply slipped the ring off his finger and handed it over.
Lucian snatched it from his grasp and moved swiftly to the second man who had entered the cave, his hands rifling through the belongings with a methodical precision, like a surgeon's blade cutting through flesh. At last, he found the healing pills nestled among the supplies.
With the medicine in hand, he slipped behind a nearby boulder for some semblance of privacy.
Lucian's shirt peeled away like old bandages, revealing the wound that marred his side—a grotesque gash that seemed to grin mockingly at him.
The white fabric that had been wrapped around it was soaked a deep crimson, the hue of a dying sun, and small fragments of stone jutted out from the torn flesh like jagged teeth.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he picked out the stones one by one, each shard a needle of agony sinking deeper into his consciousness.
He applied the medicine with a hand that trembled slightly, then swallowed one of the pills. Slowly, the wound began to clot, the blood ebbing away like the last traces of a retreating tide.
He returned to the cave dim light to find the captive unconscious, his body slumped against the cold stone. The darkness around them seemed to pulse with a life of its own, whispering secrets to the shadows that loomed like silent spectators.
Lucian rifled through the storage ring of the first man who had entered, finding a few more supplies and a faded map. Satisfied, he knelt beside the captive, who was beginning to stir. He noticed a small wound near the man's chest—nothing life-threatening, but still oozing blood like a slow-dripping faucet.
Lucian's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. He tossed the man a small vial of medicine. "You don't seem very loyal to your master." he remarked, his voice light with mockery but carrying an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.
The man caught the vial and looked at Lucian with eyes as sharp as broken glass. "I'm loyal to only one person," he replied, his tone unwavering, "and that's me."
Lucian's curiosity deepened. The man was like a steel blade forged in the hottest of fires—unyielding, tempered by suffering. "Why don't you join our clan?" Lucian offered, his words weaving like a snake through the air. "I could use someone like you as an clan elder."
For a moment, the man's gaze flickered, as if a shadow had passed over his eyes. He seemed to weigh Lucian's words like a merchant appraising a piece of fine silk, searching for hidden flaws. Finally, he nodded. "I'll agree." he said, "but we'll need to escape the leader. He's probably waiting for us at the end of the valley."
"Can't we exit from the other side?" Lucian asked, his mind already racing ahead, mapping out a route.
"No." the man replied, shaking his head slowly, as though lamenting Lucian's naivety. "There's probably a war puppet stationed there. He is like a beast who hasn't eaten for eternity."
Lucian's eyes gleamed with a sudden, fierce light—a spark of a plan igniting in the darkness. "Can't you command the puppet?" he asked.
The man's hesitation was almost imperceptible, but it hung in the air like the stillness before a storm. "It only responds to the leader's commands." he admitted, his voice tinged with a reluctant respect for the power that bound him.
"Fine." Lucian said, his lips curving into a dangerous smile, like the edge of a knife. "Do exactly as I say." The man nodded, his face a mask of stoic acceptance. But just as he was about to speak, he hesitated again and then asked, "Where is your sister? She could be a great help in this."
Lucian's expression darkened instantly, as though a shadow had fallen across his soul. His eyes deepened to a shade of red that was almost otherworldly, glistening with the sheen of unshed tears. He punched the nearby wall with such force that the stone cracked, sending a cascade of dust swirling down like ashes from a dying fire.
"She's gone." he growled, his voice thick with sorrow and edged with a bitterness that cut deeper than any blade. "She died protecting me from that explosion. I'm too weak. I couldn't even protect her." His voice trailed off, raw with anguish. "How am I supposed to rebuild my clan?"
Regaining control, Lucian turned to face the man with a renewed intensity. "I still don't trust you." he said, his tone flat and uncompromising. "Drink this poison." He held out a small vial filled with a dark liquid that swirled like ink in water. "Only I can make the antidote, and you'll get it when we reach Cloud City."
The man accepted the vial without flinching and swallowed its contents as though it were no more than a glass of water.
As they emerged from the cave, the sunlight seemed almost blinding after the oppressive darkness, casting stark shadows that danced on the ground like specters. Their plan was simple, but the air was thick with tension, and every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass.
As they were about to execute their escape, they saw two figures waiting outside. One of them, a tall man with a dangerous glint in his eye, wore a smile that was as sharp and cruel as a predator's fangs.
"Well, well, young master Lucian." the man taunted, his voice dripping with derision like venom from a serpent's fangs. "You seem surprised."
Lucian's heart sank like a stone plummeting into a dark abyss. He turned to face his supposed ally, who now stood with a twisted grin, as if he had been savoring this very moment. "You betrayed me?" Lucian's voice was a low growl, quivering with barely suppressed rage. "Why? The poison will kill you!"
The man threw his head back and laughed, the sound cruel and mocking, echoing through the valley like the cry of a raven. "You really think a poison brewed by the likes of you has no antidote?" he sneered. "What a joke! Any local alchemist could cure me!" Lucian's eyes flashed with a fury that burned hotter than a forge. "How long have you been toying with me?" he demanded, his voice a snarl.
"Since I was first injured by your traps." the man replied, his tone almost casual, as though he were recounting a mundane tale.
"The leader contacted me then. I told him everything. Knowing I was hurt, he ordered me to stall for time until he arrived. So, that's exactly what I did—playing you like a fool."
The leader, who had remained silent until now, took a step forward, his presence radiating a smug confidence that was almost suffocating.
"Don't be too disheartened, young master Lucian." he said, his voice smooth and condescending. "You managed to kill two of my men while injured and at a disadvantage. I'm almost impressed. I hadn't realized you were this cunning."
The traitor walked back to his leader's side as if returning to his rightful place. Lucian, however, reached into his pocket and pulled out a small clock. Its hands ticked steadily, indifferent to the chaos around it.
As Lucian looked at it, a dangerous smile spread across his lips, as though he were savoring a dark secret. "It's about time." he whispered, his tone chillingly calm.
The leader's eyes widened in sudden realization, his thoughts racing like wildfire. He saw a faint red glow beginning to spread beneath the skin of the traitor, the light seeping through like cracks in a dam about to burst. "Run!" he shouted, his voice rising in a panic he could no longer mask.
The traitor's face twisted in confusion. "What—" he began, but the words were lost as his body erupted in a violent explosion.
Boom!
The sound was deafening, a thunderclap that seemed to split the world in two. The force of the blast sent a wave of thick black smoke and dust rushing outward, the traitor was gone, reduced to little more than ashes and echoes.