Chapter 72: A Fable of Loss and Love

CRASH!!!

The sound of the stage collapsing on the charming figure of Williem Nightingale plunged the audience into an eerie silence. The world seemed to hold its breath; the enchantment of moments prior shattered by the unexpected disaster. Then, as if the spell had finally broken, chaos erupted.

"Williem!"

"Is he alright?!"

"Eek! What happened?!"

"A collapse?!"

"Williem! No!"

The once serene amphitheater descended into pandemonium. Some bolted toward the exits, driven by fear of further collapse; others remained seated, paralyzed by disbelief. A few stayed calm, observing the chaos unfold as if detached from the moment.

I, Marta Madeleine, was one of the frozen ones.

Is... this part of the play too?

I thought, my gaze locked on the ruins of the stage.

N-no! Finish it!

My chest tightened as my heart-rate increased.

CLATTER!

My parasol fell to the ground as I shot to my feet.

"WILLIEM!"

I screamed, my voice raw with desperation. Gathering my gown, I bolted toward the stage.

Tears blurred my vision as I ascended the wreckage, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

ACK!

A sharp sting shot through my leg as a stray shard of wood sliced into it.

Tss...

I hissed in pain but pressed on, the blood from my wound trickling down to stain my heel, forming a web of red. The throbbing ache was distant compared to the storm of emotions raging inside me.

Ah... it hurts...

"Williem! Williem! Are you still alive?!", I called out, my voice trembling as my eyes frantically scanned the debris.

Where is he?

Panic clawed at my chest until, finally, I saw it.

Hah!

My hands flew to my mouth as I stifled a gasp. There, amidst the wreckage, was a bloodied hand clutching the Wailing Bloom—Williem Nightingale's hand.

"Williem... HIC!"

Tears spilled over, streaming down my cheeks as the reality of the scene set in.

Williem Nightingale was de-

"YOUNG MISTRESS!"

Huh?!

My head snapped toward the voice, my tears scattering as I turned.

Al-Albert!

"Young Mistress! We must leave this place at once! It's not safe!", Albert, my loyal bodyguard and butler, called out as he hurried toward me.

I hesitated, my gaze flickering back to Williem's motionless hand.

Williem... I really wanted to-

"YOUNG MIST-" I turned toward Albert just as the world seemed to halt.

THUNK!

My breath caught in my throat as his severed head hit the ground with a sickening thud, blood splattering in all directions. His tall, slender frame crumpled soon after, revealing the figure of his killer.

A man in black.

He stood tall and motionless, a menacing silhouette against the chaotic backdrop of the collapsed amphitheater. His features were hidden beneath a dark hood, but the glint of a bloodied blade in his hand sent a chill down my spine.

I took a step back visibly shaken, both by Albert's sudden death and his killer.

My lips trembled and I shakily opened my mouth to ask, "W-who are yo-"

But before I could even finish speaking.

BOOM!

The air cracked and with a shriek, I fell to the ground.

What was that?!

My eyes turned to the source of the frightening sound and immediately, my eyes shrunk.

SHEEN!

Just a few inches away from me was a shiny silver javelin bound in place by a spiral of flowery vines; the silver spear glinting menacingly under the light of the amphitheater.

"Eek!"

I let out a startled cry and crawled several steps backwards, desperately trying to get away from the alarming weapon when I realized.

Vines?

My head momentarily turned to the ruckus as a flicker of hope began to sprout in my eyes.

Could he still be alive?

TCH!

My heard perked up once it heard the sound, immediately snapping to the source.

"Ugh...why didn't he just die?", a cold, raspy voice spoke in an annoyed tone.

The owner of the voice was a burly man with a thick brown beard and a mean face; he looked like he was in his thirties.

HA...

He groaned as he rolled his arms, exercising them before he suddenly snapped his fingers, causing the spear scatter into gray dust.

What does he mean?

"I agree...it would have made our job much easier.", a lower, feminine voice spoke with barely-concealed contempt.

My gaze turned over in the voice's direction and immediately caught sight of a woman, sitting at the VIP seats.

The woman in question, was extremely pale in complexion, wore overly-stylish clothes and smoked a strange cigar. She had a pompous air around her and looked at me with an icy gaze.

"Kill the woman though, I don't like her.", she spoke before turning away, taking another puff.

At her cold words, fear gripped my heart and my breath hitched. My instincts pounded at my ears to run, to hid but instead...

I snorted.

"Kill me?"

"Oh?", the pale woman turned back to look at me, her eyes betraying a hint of surprise.

My gaze turned cold as I slowly took a deep breath, absorbing the World Energy into my Aperture and from my back, large white wings tore out of my dress.

If these fools think that am just some noble, then they're gravely mistaken!

The eyes of the pale woman and the burly woman widened, even the man in black showed some pause.

"House of Seraphim!"

"Ohoho! We've struck gold!"

"..."

Indeed, they were right.

I was a member of the distinguished House of Seraphim; the sixth child of Madeleine, the Gray Witch.

All over my hands

"Tss...how troublesome.", the pale woman muttered as she suddenly rose to her feet, brandishing an elegant fan in her hands, "To think that we'd run into such trouble."

My fearless gaze remained fixated on her, brimming with sharp, killing intent.

CLICK! CLACK!

The woman slowly walked down the stairs of the VIP chamber before settling into the normal seating.

She paused, her gaze lingering on me, "I hope...you hold no contempt over the killing of your bodyguard.", she spoke with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh, him?", my gaze turned over to Albert for but a moment before returning to hers and saying coldly, "He is merely a bodyguard, easily replaceable...still, I'll have you three pay dearly for the cost of replacing him."

"Ahh...as expected of a Seraphim, but surely you can't beat all three of us alone."

The moment she concluded her sentence, the man in black rushed up to the stage with such startling speed he appeared as a blur yet, the moment he stepped foot on the stage, a bouquet of flowers latched around his legs and a sharp tendril impaled his heart, killing him instantly.

BANG!

The sound of debris scattering could be heard as a heavily bleeding Williem Nightingale ascended, a lovely flower growing from his left eye.

"Ah..ah..."

He elicited a soft groan before turning to us.

"Correction, its two now."

A soft smile came to my face as I looked at him in relief, "You're alive."

He returned my smile, "Thanks to you."

Then he turned his head over to the pale woman and burly man, his expression suddenly darkened and he said in a cold tone,

"As for you two, you're going to pay dearly for interrupting my performance."