The obsidian corridor stretched into the distance, its vaulted arches rising like the ribs of a slumbering beast. Dim light seeped through narrow slits in the black stone, casting jagged shadows across the cold stone floor. At the far end, a lone window glowed gold—an eerie beacon against the abyss. The air was thick with the scent of cold iron and old magic, and in the silence, one could almost hear the whispers of those who had vanished into the dark.
Sir Luminath strode down the hallway, his boots clicking sharply against the floor. His mood? Less than pleasant. He had just endured breakfast alone with Benjamin—an experience that felt more like a drawn-out interrogation than a meal. Why? Because Michael, his ever-unpredictable student, hadn't even bothered to show up.
By the time Luminath reached the heavy iron door of Michael's bedchamber, his patience was already razor thin. He knocked once. Silence. He knocked again, harder. Still nothing.
His jaw tightened. "Michael, stop these childish games and open the damn door, or I'll cut it in half!"
Nothing.
Just as he was about to shout again, something caught his eye—a dark smear of blood creeping from beneath the door.
Luminath's breath hitched. In an instant, all irritation vanished, replaced by cold focus. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword as he whispered a word in an ancient tongue. "Light."
Golden radiance erupted from the blade, flooding the corridor with divine illumination. The sword pulsed, its length glowing as if forged from pure sunlight. The Luminath family's sacred magic—one of the most revered and powerful in existence—flared to life.
He raised the sword in both hands, the golden energy surging until the blade doubled in size. His voice thundered through the hallway. "Michael, on the ground! NOW!"
With a single swing, the iron door shattered in two.
The heavy slabs crashed to the floor, revealing the sight inside.
Michael lay sprawled across the ground, surrounded by a small pool of blood. His breathing was faint, his pale face slack. Luminath's instincts kicked in—until he took a closer look.
Michael's posture was too relaxed—too... comfortable.
A muscle twitched in Luminath's jaw. Then, realization hit.
His grip tightened on his sword as his anger returned full force. "Is he… sleeping?"
A slow exhale. A twitch of his eye. Then, through clenched teeth—
"Seriously?! This kid is insane."
...
Michael's eyes snapped open. His head turned sharply, taking in his surroundings. Paul Luminath sat in a chair beside the bed, his face unreadable. Alexandra hovered nearby; concern etched deep into her features.
As soon as Alexandra saw him stir, she exhaled and rose to her feet, but before she could speak, Paul stood and motioned toward the door. "Get the Meister," he ordered.
She hesitated, casting Michael a knowing look before slipping out without a word.
Paul stepped closer, boots making little sound on the cold stone floor. His voice was low, serious. "Was it the maid?"
Michael let out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Old man, who else could it be? It's always the maid."
Paul's lips quirked upward, his usual stern demeanor slipping into something resembling a smirk. "And what's the count now? Forty-six?"
Michael sighed, rubbing his temple as his thoughts still swam in sluggish circles. "Not quite. But close. This time… something feels off."
Paul raised an eyebrow, his tone curious. "Off? How so?"
Michael frowned, trying to focus. "I can't think straight. If I didn't know better, I'd say I've had a little too much of her 'special tea.'"
Paul chuckled lightly, but his voice retained its usual edge. "Well, considering you've been poisoned for thirteen hours, I'd say 'not thinking straight' is an understatement. Could've been worse."
Michael's fingers curled around the bedsheet, a familiar frustration crawling up his spine. "In that case, where's my one and only family member?"
Paul snorted, arms crossing over his chest. "If you mean young Samuel, he's with your uncle. And for the record, you have other family members, you know. The Meister advised no children near you—something about 'keeping the infection contained.' Sir Benjamin ordered that no one tell the boy unless you woke up."
Michael clicked his tongue. "How considerate of him." His eyes narrowed. With a dramatic sigh, he shoved the bedsheet aside and propped himself up, wincing slightly as his vision wavered. "But if I'm stuck here for hours, where's the fun in not letting him know?"
Just as Michael spoke, the door creaked open, revealing Alexandra's return—only, the door was far from intact. A massive chunk of it lay shattered on the floor, its jagged edges sharp against the stone.
Michael's gaze sharpened, his tone suddenly colder. "Who did that?" He gestured toward the massive chunk of the door on the ground, irritation flickering in his eyes.
...
Benjamin walked toward the giant apple tree in front of the dark, mysterious forest behind Centarious Castle, Samuel by his side. He never expected Michael to be poisoned by a maid—of all things. Now, he understood his brother's decision to send him to Theos all this time. Even Benjamin, with all his experience, hadn't anticipated something like this. The maid, who had been assigned to him by two of the most respectable and reasonable people he knew—Alexandra and Cristian Coal—turned out to be a killer in disguise.
Still, the maid's audacity impressed him. Not even the Emperor of the Imperium would have the courage to send someone to Centarious Castle and pull off such a stunt—especially with Benjamin here.
He couldn't shake the worry that after Michael, Samuel might be the next target. That's why he'd taken Sammy on this walk. While Sir Paul remained with Michael, there was nothing to do there other than wait for the inevitable. With only his men and Alexandra at his side, Benjamin trusted no one more than Paul Luminath. Until the assassin was caught, he wouldn't take any risks. No way a new maid could have done this alone—there had to be others involved.
As Benjamin neared the apple tree, he heard a voice calling from behind.
One of his trusted men called out to him. Benjamin turned, his expression unreadable. When he had left the war camps in a hurry, he had only brought seven men with him. But now, after something like this had happened, that number wasn't nearly enough.
Without hesitation, he had ordered a battalion of a hundred men to guard Michael and the castle until his nephew recovered. He had also decided to hire a new personal guard for Samuel—he wasn't about to take any chances.
The soldier approached and saluted. "Sir, the maid has completely disappeared from the castle. We've searched everywhere—there's no sign of her."
Benjamin's jaw tightened. As expected.
"And there's more, sir," the soldier continued. "We've identified the poison—it's a mix of hemlock leaves and juniper leaves. This particular combination affects both humans and half-vampires."
Benjamin's fingers curled into a fist. So, this wasn't a simple assassination attempt
The assassin was a fool—an incompetent one at that.
Now, if the assassin had used Blue Ice Spider venom, that would've been a different story altogether.