Chapter 52

Verandez Rasanto sat on a plush couch in the open living room of his estate's first floor, his demeanor stressed and on edge. He constantly glanced over his shoulder and around the room, his movements nervous and fidgety. Suddenly, he rose from the couch and began pacing around the room, his hands twitching with anxiety.

"Why did he have to come here?" Verandez whispered to himself in a panicked tone. He felt like a prisoner, a puppet with no freedom, all because of Orian Lorenz. That man had essentially taken over everything, and it was now about what Orian wanted, not what Verandez wanted.

His mind flashed back to Orian slaughtering those mercenaries, and he struggled to suppress a gag at the vivid memories. "How can someone slaughter people like that for no reason?" Verandez muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. Verandez was almost certain that he had some form of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) after witnessing the gruesome deaths of those mercenaries, their bodies sliced apart, the images haunting him incessantly.

Not only that he saw how Orian looked at Kit, the intentions were clear in Orian's eyes, and Verandez felt powerless to stop him. He had attempted to use one of his most powerful summons against Orian, only to find it utterly ineffective.

"I need to complete the summoning ritual as fast as I can. Then, I can... I can..." Verandez clutched his head with both hands, feeling as if he were losing his mind under the weight of Orian's terror. The fear made coherent thought a struggle. "Why am I even doing this? Why am I opening the gates to hell? Why do I want Aetheria to end?" he muttered to himself, his voice breaking as he sank to his knees on the floor.

Something felt off, a pervasive emptiness within Verandez. He sensed a void, a lack of wholeness as his mind seemed to fracture. It felt as though his skull was being relentlessly pounded against the wall, though in reality, it was the floor against which he forcefully banged his head. His body moved autonomously as he repeated the act over and over until blood began to trickle.

*Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why, Why?* Echoed endlessly in his mind, the relentless repetition of the single word amplifying his anguish. Verandez's thoughts spiraled into a vortex of confusion and torment, consumed by the overwhelming question that plagued him relentlessly: Why?

As Verandez felt himself teetering on the brink of madness, a warm embrace enveloped him. "Stop, please stop hurting yourself," he heard, turning to see Kit sniffling as she hugged him. "Kit?" he said breathlessly, asking, "When did you get here?" Kit rubbed her head against his back. "Just now," she replied softly.

Despite her presence and comforting embrace, Verandez still felt like he was on the precipice of complete despair.

"Kit, why am I doing this?" he mumbled, his voice scratchy and broken. "Because you want to help me, help us," Kit replied, hugging him tighter. "I do?" Verandez asked, feeling his head pound violently. He wanted to vomit; he wanted to do something, anything.

Suddenly, all the pain ceased. No longer did he feel any fear or panic, nor did he feel empty anymore.

"What happened?" Verandez muttered as he clutched his head and felt something warm and wet. Confused, he brought his hand down and looked at it, his eyes widening at the sight of blood. "Ah! What the hell?!" he exclaimed, hastily standing up, nearly losing his balance before sensing someone holding his waist.

"Oh, goddess, who is that? I'm warning you, if you're an assassin, I have mercenaries all over the place, and a single scream will make them come running!" he blurted out, though the unease in his voice was evident.

"Don't worry, it's just me, Master Verandez," reassured Kit as she let go of him.

"Kit? What are you doing here? And can you tell me why I'm bleeding?" Verandez asked, wiping the blood off his forehead. To his surprise, more blood oozed out. "Did I get assaulted in my sleep by a cow or something? Why am I bleeding so badly?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and humor lacing his tone now that Kit was present.

Kit shook her head, her expression troubled. "I don't know what happened. I just found you here bleeding," she explained softly.

Verandez scratched his head cautiously, careful not to exacerbate the bleeding spot. "Is that so? I guess this is one of those brain periods only geniuses like me get," he said with a self-assured smirk, though he felt lightheaded from the blood loss.

Kit's eyes lit up, and she smiled warmly. "That must be it! Congratulations, Master Verandez!"

Verandez crossed his arms and struck a pose, reveling in the praise. "What the fuck is going on here?" they both heard someone suddenly ask. They turned to see Orian with a look of genuine confusion on his face.

"Uh, nothing, nothing. I just fell and bonked my head on the floor. Do you have something you want to talk about?" Verandez asked, his body trembling slightly with fear as soon as Orian came into view.

Orian raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between Verandez and Kit, who had instinctively hidden behind Verandez as soon as Orian entered the room. Something felt off for a moment, but Orian shook his head and muttered, "Must just be my imagination," before locking eyes with Verandez, who struggled to meet his gaze.

"I do have something to discuss. Something important," Orian said, his usual smirk gradually forming on his face.