It was accidental.
She wasn’t expecting to find anything by going to search for Angel.
All she wanted to do was to help Mirel do the heavy part of informing Lucivar’s death to those—who knew him, but her guilt-driven move spiraled out of control—and now she sohow ended up here. It started as a hunch, as the sudden resignation aligning with Lucivar’s death was suspicious.
Others might even dismiss it as nothing.
But Leandra held on to it like it was everything she had.
She was more enticed to cling to the hope that Lucivar was sohow still alive than accept the reality that he had passed away. And now—what started as a hunch, a suspicion, becos reality. Leandra looked at the grave she had dug in horror.
Lucivar’s body was gone.
In doubt, she dug even deeper to make sure, but the result was still the sa.
"So, I’m right all along..." Leandra sat on the edge—and placed her hand against her forehead, a self-pitying chuckle escaped her lips as she couldn’t believe the ludicrousness of it all. "He wanted to sever our ties, but not by killing us. But by abandoning us, abandoning the family. And this is his way to do it."
Since the last piece that bound them together, Lucivar wanted to leave.
However, simply disappearing is not good enough.
No matter what he does, he must adhere to his malicious impulses.
If he was going to leave the family anyway, he decided to do it by causing ntal misery to them.
He forced Mirel, who was insecure about his strength to lead when he’s not ready.
He abandoned Ravenna, who has abandonnt issues due to the bloodline awakening tragedy.
And as for Leandra herself, he sharpened the good in her to beco a blade that stabbed her own heart.
Giving her false hints to make her suspicious of him, and then doing the exact opposite of what she thought he’d do, would devastate her for years or even throughout her entire life. And it would’ve worked had it not been for this lucky turn of events.
Leandra began laughing.
It started slowly, but slowly escalated into maniacal laughter.
Had anyone caught a glimpse of her right now, they would’ve thought she was a crazy woman who was so happen to be a graverobber. Her laughter might have made others mistake her for feeling a euphoria that she had never experienced before.
But in truth, she was more relieved than euphoric.
At the very least, she hadn’t been the worst of herself during Lucivar’s final monts.
It was all a performance, and she’d rather this more than loathing herself for mistaking Lucivar’s intent.
From sunrise until sundown, Leandra stayed there, feeling relieved as ever.
Only when the sky darkened did she snap out of her reverie.
"I have to tell the others about this."
Rembering that the others were still drowning in anguish, Leandra made her way back to the city—not forgetting to fix the grave she had dug again. Just like before, she ran back to the city while every corner of her mind pondered where Lucivar was and what he was doing.
Monts later.
Brak!
"Ravenna!"
Leandra barged into the house and scanned the living room, searching for Ravenna.
"Ravenna!" She called one more ti until a figure erged from a room.
Ravenna stepped out.
She was still wearing the sa clothes she had worn last night, and also, still a ss from head to toe. But Leandra didn’t care, as after she knew about the truth, she would certainly go back to normal.
"Lucivar is alive!" Leandra exclaid, her arms raised.
"Hmm?" Ravenna looked at her lazily. "Are you still drunk? Go drink so water."
Deciding to ignore Leandra, who was spouting nonsense, Ravenna sat on the sofa and turned on the TV, intending to do nothing more today than laze around. She has no appetite to go out, or also train like she used to.
Undeterred, Leandra squatted beside her with a beaming smile.
"I’m not drunk," She said, taking the remote from Ravenna’s hand. "Sit down properly, and I’ll tell you that I really ant what I said."
In the next couple of minutes, Leandra recounted how she found out Lucivar was alive.
Starting from what happened last night, and how she dug Lucivar’s grave earlier today.
At the end of her story, Ravenna still didn’t react much.
"Stop feeding into your delusions," She sighed, taking back the remote and turning on the TV again. "Did you forget about Caldaros? The mont he died, his body evaporated. Of course, you wouldn’t find his corpse; it probably already evaporated. All avatars are probably like that."
"Are you serious?" Leandra stood up abruptly, looking at Ravenna in disbelief. "If that were the case, Lucivar’s body would instantly evaporate, but his didn’t. It didn’t even evaporate—until we buried him, which is almost a day after his death!"
"It probably has sothing to do with the Ending Needle."
"Ravenna, are you really going to act like this?"
"I’m not acting like anything. I’m only being realistic, and you should too."
"Then what about Angel?!"
Leandra’s voice rose as she ca back in a rush, expecting Ravenna to be relieved like her.
But instead, she acted like Leandra was crazy.
"What about Angel?! She was the one helping Lucivar—and right after his death, she suddenly resigned from her work and vanished!" Noticing the look Ravenna was giving her, she bit her lower lip. "I went to her apartnt earlier. The manager swore she hadn’t left in days, but when I snuck inside, the place was empty!"
"Leandra, you trespassed into soone’s ho? Are you asking for trouble?"
"THAT’S NOT THE POINT!"
At this point, Leandra’s face was already red from Anger—streaked in disbelief and disappointnt.
She didn’t rush back to be doubted like this when the truth was already as clear as day.
"This..." Leandra looked down, clenching both of her fists on the side. "You’re acting exactly like how Lucivar wanted us to act. He wanted us to be depressed, to accept the reality he concocted. Don’t you get it, Ravenna?"
She raised her gaze again.
Now, her eyes were softer and sadder than earlier as she stared at Ravenna.
"Whether he admits it or not, we matter to him. We succeeded in becoming sothing to him," Leandra said, her voice heavy with resignation as her shoulders slumped. "We’re the ones who could place a limit on what he could or couldn’t do. Without us beside him, there’s no leash to his malice. He was already dangerous even with us around—now that we’re out of the picture, what do you think he’ll turn into?"
...
anwhile, within a nearby slave city.
A normally desolate road was currently drowned in chaos.
At its center stood a small open carriage, its lone passenger a woman crouching down in fear as battles were happening around her. Dozens of fighters clashed in violent arcs across the roadside. One side was wearing crimson uniforms—clean, sharp, and unmistakably cut from the sa cloth, while the opposing side was n and won clad in tattered garb.
From their ragged layers of leather armor, these people looked like cutthroats and brigands.
But their strength betrayed more than re banditry.
Each blow they dealt carried the force of Hybrids—far surpassing human limitations.
So of these bandits could summon blood-forged weapons in their hands, crude yet lethal, which were strong enough to cleave through enchanted steel as though it were glass. The air rang with the clash of steel and the hiss of ruptured magic.
Among them, a rare few loosed bursts of viridian fla.
One look is enough to show that these flas weren’t woven from ether, but sothing far darker.
Perhaps it was the energy from the other world, the Crossers’ world, but it was certainly not ether.
The battle swayed on a knife’s edge, neither side gaining ground. Dust, blood, and grunts mingled in the air, carried on the n and won locked in a struggle where every heartbeat risked death. But with each second that passed, the conclusion of the battle began to clear more and more.
From the distant rise, two figures watched in silence.
One was a man with flowing, divine hair with a presence so faint that one would think he was a ghost.
Like his form wasn’t actually a tangible form, but a form made by the wind.
Beside him stood a middle-aged man, his stern, unyielding face set in stone, eyes glinting coldly as they followed the battle with razor precision. At their feet knelt a third figure—an assassin clad in black, one arm severed at the shoulder, head bowed low in silent submission, as if awaiting his penance.
"Where did these people co from?" the graceful man whispered.
Hearing this, the stern man kicked the assassin, "His Holiness is asking. Answer the question."
"I... I apologize, but I don’t know," the assassin bowed his head deeper—until his forehead touched the cold earth. "I was watching the ’package’ as you requested, but suddenly—these bandits ambushed us. Since they bypassed my senses, they must have a strong backer, which is why I asked for support from you."
"If I rember correctly, I sent two capable mbers to guard the ’package’."
"He... He died. A strong figure attacked us, and I barely survived after losing an arm. It was also when we lost the brothers. He took the brothers and killed their guardians."
Looking at the assassin’s pathetic form, the stern man spat, "Both of you are at the Chrysalis rank, and yet you still can’t do sothing—so simple?! Is there even any worth in keeping you alive?! Useless! Absolutely useless! What if the package was hurt, huh?! Can you take—responsibility?! Even your life will not be able to pay for the damage!"
"I... I apologize..." the assassin kept bowing despite being kicked repeatedly.
Annoyed, the flowing man waved his hand, gesturing to stop.
"It’s fine," He said as he stared at the battle ahead. ’Where did these people co from? For them to have this many strong fighters, the person behind this is not soone simple. Did soone learn about the True Blood?’
Considering how precious the woman’s blood was, that could only be the case.
Sharply, the man scanned the surroundings with his power.
Nothing.
’Whoever attacked the assassins must’ve already left, but why?’ He wondered before focusing back on the woman cradled in the open carriage. ’No matter. As long as the True Blood is in my hands, I don’t mind losing a few n. It’s a sha to lose the True Blood’s brothers, though.’
Like a gust of wind, the flowing man vanished from his spot.
Soon, he reappeared standing on the open carriage, right before the woman.
He smiled pliantly and reached down to take her hand, "Miss... Don’t be afraid. Let help you..."
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