Take Me Away, Dark Lord!

A small, perfectly polite, entirely patronising smile touched the corners of the monster’s lips.

He raised his hand, resting two fingers against the brim of his black hat.

He tipped his hat to the Archduke.

It was a gesture of supreme, mocking elegance.

An acknowledgement of Kaelus’s rage, and a complete, absolute dismissal of it as a threat.

”Until we meet again, Lord of the North,” a voice echoed. It did not come from the man’s lips.

The voice echoed directly inside the minds of Kaelus, Seraphina, and the knights.

It was a voice composed of a thousand whispering, rotting corpses, smooth and polite, yet carrying the stench of an open grave. ”The little anomaly smells... exquisite.”

Before Kaelus could swing Requiem, before the shards of black ice could launch themselves at the stranger’s heart to tear him to shreds, the man took a step backwards.

He did not turn around.

He did not run.

He stepped backwards into the shadow of a nearby, massive oak tree.

The moment his plum velvet coat touched the darkness, the man folded in on himself.

He didn’t teleport.

The shadow swallowed him, melting him down into the two-dimensional darkness like a drop of ink falling into a pool of pitch.

In a fraction of a second, the space where the elegant, terrifying monster had stood was empty.

”COWARD!” Kaelus roared, the sound tearing from his throat like a physical weapon.

He swung Requiem in a massive, horizontal arc.

The wave of dark, freezing mana that erupted from the blade was catastrophic.

It slammed into the massive oak tree, instantly flash-freezing the ancient wood.

With a deafening, thunderous CRACK, the massive tree shattered into a million pieces of frozen timber, showering the empty plaza in lethal, jagged splinters of ice.

But the strike hit nothing but wood and shadow.

The entity was gone.

The silence that followed the destruction was absolute.

The remaining crowd had completely fled the plaza, leaving behind overturned carts, shattered sugar dragons, and abandoned lanterns burning on the cobblestones.

Kaelus stood in the centre of the destruction, his chest heaving, his sword still drawn.

The dark aura surrounding him was erratic, pulsing with violent, unspent rage.

He had been challenged.

His daughter had been threatened.

The enemy had struck within his reach and vanished, leaving behind a mocking compliment that made Kaelus’s blood boil with a heat he had never known.

The little anomaly smells exquisite.

The words echoed in his mind, twisting the knife of his protective fury deeper into his gut.

They knew about her.

Whatever ancient, demonic filth had just stood before him knew that Seraphina was not a normal child.

Kaelus slowly turned around, the violent glow of his violet eyes fading, replaced by a dark, brooding, terrifying resolve.

He walked back to the centre of the plaza, where his knights were still holding the shield wall around the trembling child.

”Drop the shields,” Kaelus commanded gruffly.

The knights obeyed, stepping aside to reveal Seraphina.

She was sitting on the cold cobblestones, her crimson dress stained with dirt, her knees pulled to her chest, shaking like a leaf caught in a hurricane.

Kaelus didn’t hesitate.

He dropped to his knees, dropping Requiem onto the stones with a loud clatter, and pulled her roughly, desperately into his arms.

”Papa,” Seraphina whimpered, burying her face into his neck, her voice breaking. ”There was a monster...”

”I know,” Kaelus whispered fiercely, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her as tightly against him as he dared without crushing her.

His hand stroked the back of her messy hair, his touch infinitely gentle despite the lethal tension in his body. ”I know, Seraphina. You did well. You squeezed my hand and warned us in time.”

He looked over her head, his violet eyes locking onto Marquess Julian Myer, who was slowly walking out of the alleyway, his clothes stained with the blood of the assassinated abductor, his flawless face pale and stricken.

”Julian,” Kaelus said. The name was not a friendly greeting.

It was a summons to war.

Julian stopped, looking at the Archduke, recognising the monumental shift in Kaelus’s demeanour.

The Reaper of the North was no longer just a visiting dignitary offering a favour.

He was an apex predator that had just been given a scent.

”Your missing children,” Kaelus rumbled, his voice cold, absolute, and devoid of mercy, ”are not being taken by a thieves’ guild. They are being harvested by something that wears human skin.”

Julian swallowed hard, looking at the frozen, shattered remains of the ancient oak tree. ”An anomaly? They have been extinct in the South for centuries, Kaelus. The Church purged them long ago. How could they still exist?”

”The Church is just made up of arrogant fools, and you knew that the best, didn’t you?” Kaelus sneered, standing up and lifting Seraphina effortlessly into his arms, carrying her like a precious, fragile treasure.

He reached down and snatched Requiem from the ground, sheathing it with a sharp, definitive click.

”The entity is not extinct. It is here, hunting in your city, Julian. And it made the fatal error of looking at my daughter.”

Kaelus turned toward his knights, his aura flaring with the promise of a holy war.

”Lucas. Boris. Gallahan.”

”Command us, Your Grace!” The knights roared, their bloodlust ignited by their Archduke’s fury, eager to tear the city apart to hunt the beast that had terrified their little lady, despite remembering the oppressive and ominous feeling they got.

”We are not using the teleportation gate tomorrow,” Kaelus announced, his voice ringing with the finality of an executioner’s bell. ”Send a raven to the Emperor. Tell him the Northern Vanguard is delayed, because the Reaper has found a hunt in Oakhaven, and he will not leave until the prey is mounted on a spike.”

Kaelus looked down at Seraphina, who was still trembling against his chest.

He adjusted his dark coat, wrapping it around her to shield her from the cold night air.