Chapter 142: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (6)
Chapter 142: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (6)
"Aaaaagh!"
A blood-curdling scream erupted along with a spray of gore.
The spurting traces of life scattered, desperate to leave their mark upon the world. They splashed onto the ground, onto clothes, and across hair.
Her eyes wide with shock, the Princess tentatively reached up to touch her cheek.
Her fingers came away stained with droplets of blood. For a moment, her pale gray pupils trembled violently.
The woman who had screamed was not the Princess. It was Irene, who had been lying collapsed at her side before regaining consciousness and attempting to ambush Ian.
The moment she had tried to grip her sword again for the sake of her liege, an axe blade had buried itself in her shoulder.
The momentum of the thrown axe was terrifying. It had carved through half of Irene’s shoulder blade in a single strike. The impact must have reached the very marrow of her bone.
Irene had already taken the brunt of the previous shocks. No matter how strong one's willpower, there was a limit to what a person could endure.
Ultimately, Irene collapsed with a final, agonizing shriek.
Perhaps because the deeply embedded axe had struck a nerve, the female knight’s sprawled body began to twitch in repeated, faint spasms.
Heugh, huuugh. The ragged breaths escaping through her gritted teeth spoke of her excruciating pain. She couldn't even muster the strength to pull the axe from her shoulder.
Irene’s body jerked and writhed.
These were not voluntary movements. They were the result of pain that transcended reason and a life hanging by a thread. Her flesh was convulsing in a desperate, primal struggle to survive.
It was a sight as pathetic as it was cruel.
For the first time, the emotion of fear took root in Cien’s eyes.
The warmth and the metallic stench of the blood on her cheek felt utterly revolting. Cien’s gaze hurriedly shifted toward the man.
Ian wasn't even looking at Irene. He acted as if he had heard such wretched screams a thousand times before.
Instead, he asked Cien in a grave voice, "Your Highness, have you ever considered such a future?"
Cien found herself cowed.
It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. She almost reflexively shook her head but managed to restrain herself at the last second.
She couldn't show him how terrified she was.
Yet, she couldn't maintain her previous audacity either. The blood soaking her cheeks and hair mixed with the rain, dripping down in pale pink droplets.
A madman, the Princess thought once more.
The man before her was insane. He didn't hesitate for a single second to use violence.
He might actually split her open with that axe, regardless of her royal status. For the first time, the Princess understood the meaning of instinctive terror.
The Princess’s eyes quivered. Soon, her gaze dropped to the floor.
She was afraid, but at the same time, she felt wretched.
A bitter taste filled her mouth as she bit her lip. If I can just calm down—if I can just steady myself—I’ll snap back at him with dignity.
Cien comforted herself with those thoughts over and over. Even so, she couldn't bring herself to lift her head.
Regardless of her inner turmoil, the man continued to speak.
"A future where all governing systems—be it the Imperial Household, the Papacy of the Holy Kingdom, or the Round Table of the Southern Kingdoms—become utterly meaningless... Money? Power? Women?"
A hollow laugh escaped the man’s lips, as if he had heard something ridiculous. It was the first emotional shift he had shown.
Then, his expression went cold again. His gaze became chilling and devoid of emotion.
A smoldering rage flickered within his golden eyes. The concentrated killing intent and deep-seated grudge burned so fiercely that they commanded Cien’s entire attention.
In that moment, the Princess’s pale gray pupils dilated and contracted repeatedly.
It was faint, but she could see it.
She couldn't breathe. Cien gasped for air under the weight of that intense emotional residue.
"...In the face of the singular mandate to survive, all of those things are trivial."
Ian casually raised a hand. With a whoosh, the hand axe flew back, grazing Cien’s cheek as it returned to him.
"H-hyut...!"
Cien let out a startled moan and stumbled backward. Her wide eyes betrayed a fear she could no longer hide.
Blood was still dripping from the axe in Ian’s hand—proof that it had just shattered Irene’s shoulder.
The dynamic had completely reversed.
Where Cien had been the one pressuring Ian before, she was now being overwhelmed by him. For reasons she herself couldn't quite grasp.
She felt like a small child standing before a stern master.
Glancing up, Cien tried to read Ian’s mood. It had been a long time since she had felt the need to walk on eggshells around someone.
However, Ian seemed indifferent to whatever the Princess was feeling. With his eyes closed, he repeated Cien’s words to himself.
"...Three months. Three months, is it?"
Ian chewed over the words with a mocking expression, then let out a half-formed chuckle. He shook his head.
To Cien, it felt like a threat.
‘Three seconds would be enough for me.’
Enough to end her life, that is.
And as if to prove it, Ian went as far as to propose a new condition to Cien.
"That’s too long. If possible, try to get it done within a month."
At the same time, the man’s hand suddenly whipped through the air.
A sonic boom erupted, and her vision blurred. Even the shockwave from the recoil burst forth with a profound resonance.
Cien squeezed her eyes shut.
Once again, she heard the sound of blood spraying. It was accompanied by screams, of course. Cien prayed that this would be the end of it.
But the banquet of screams and blood did not end with one.
One, two, three.
Irene and the escort knights took turns screaming. Cien felt as though she were standing alone in the middle of a slaughterhouse.
The only difference was that the livestock being butchered were her cherished inner circle.
With a whoosh, the hand axe returned to Ian’s hand only when the screams had finally faded. Only the squelching sound of gouging flesh and faint moans echoed through the air.
Ian spent a moment admiring the gruesome scene he had created. Then, he turned his gaze back to the Princess and asked, "...How many seconds did that take?"
Cien could only tremble with her eyes shut, unable to say a word.
How many seconds? It had felt like an eternity.
When no answer came after a long wait, Ian silently shook the blood off his hand axe. The blade was even stained with yellowish bone marrow.
He turned to leave, but then, as if remembering something, he looked down at the escort knights once more.
They were all gasping, their spirits broken. Saliva leaked from their slack jaws, and their twitching bodies bore witness to the horrific violence they had endured. Only Irene remained somewhat conscious.
She couldn't even groan; she simply stared at Ian with glazed eyes. Her gaze was filled with terror and disbelief.
It was the end for a woman who had been utterly broken. Ian let out a dry laugh at the sight.
His golden eyes sank into a cold chill.
"You call yourselves guards, yet you even hesitated with your master behind you?"
His voice was thick with palpable anger. It didn't sound like a younger man overstepping his bounds to lecture them.
It sounded as if someone with the absolute right to do so was rebuking them. The tone was so natural that Irene instinctively bowed her head.
She had failed as a knight. It was impossible to deny.
"This was the portion your master was meant to endure. Accept it gladly."
Cien’s legs shook the moment she heard those words. If her escort knights hadn't been there, the blood on that axe blade might have been hers.
Fortunately, those were his final words.
The man turned his back. He began to walk away with steady, rhythmic thuds.
He acted as if the half-destroyed Central Avenue and the sprawled Imperial Guards didn't matter in the slightest.
Only then did Cien, who had been shivering with her eyes closed, find her courage.
"...The consequences!"
The man’s steps came to a halt. His golden eyes glanced back over his shoulder.
Startled by that gaze, the Princess quickly looked down again. Yet, perhaps wanting to salvage some shred of her pride, she forced out the words.
"C-c-can... can you handle the consequences?!"
A faint flush rose to her cheeks. No matter how she looked at it, this wasn't the attitude of someone threatening another with power.
Rather, she looked like a cornered cat hissing in desperation.
Until now, she had thought of herself as a predator, but facing a true beast like Ian made her realize the truth.
Cien was nothing more than a single cat. A true monster had no need for tongues, gold coins, or authority.
While Cien stood there hesitating, the man’s eyes drifted to the side for a moment. After appearing to deliberate for a short while, he finally spoke.
"In any case, I won't be the one handling them."
His answer carried a faint trace of a smile.
Cien wore a bewildered expression, unable to grasp his meaning. But the man was already walking away, and she didn't have the courage to stop him and demand an explanation.
That was the full story behind the 'Princess Blood Rain Incident.'