Chapter 456: Heroes And Villains
The mood inside the warehouse had changed completely.
What began as anxious chatter and nervous shifting had become the pleasant hum of a social gathering. The atmosphere, once thick with uncertainty, was now light, warm, even cheerful.
Women who had entered stiffly were now laughing and gossiping freely, while others happily sipped from small wooden cups that had been handed to them.
The tangy-sweet scent of juice mixed with the aroma of baked bread and honeyed pastries that had been distributed by the guards under Cassius’s instructions.
"Would you look at this!" One woman exclaimed with wide eyes, biting into a roll. "They’re even feeding us!"
"I wasn’t expecting refreshments for a military mission." Another laughed, her mouth half-full.
"Maybe the Holy Guard really are saints after all!"
In one corner, a group of older women chatted as they enjoyed their drinks. "It’s been so long since we’ve had anything like this." One murmured, smiling softly. "Feels like a festival."
Indeed, it did.
Aisha had cast a wide spell over the ceiling beams, a subtle shimmering magic that circulated cool air throughout the warehouse. The hot, stifling air of the late morning was replaced by a gentle, refreshing breeze that carried away the scent of sweat and warmth.
"Ohhh, this breeze feels amazing." One woman sighed, fanning herself with a handkerchief. "It’s even better than outside."
"It’s like a miracle." Another agreed, closing her eyes in bliss. "I really should’ve brought my sister as well! She would’ve loved this!"
The women laughed again, nibbling their snacks and sharing stories. Someone had even begun humming softly, while others joined in.
Everywhere you looked, there were smiling faces.
And that, of course, was exactly as Cassius had planned.
He had known from the start that calling hundreds of women to an enclosed warehouse under vague circumstances would raise suspicion.
He had also known that frightened, wary people were harder to convince, especially when the ’favor’ he was about to ask of them was...unconventional.
So, he had spent the entire morning preparing.
He sent the Holy Guard’s three heroines to speak personally with the crowd, softening their nerves and making them feel safe. He had arranged for drinks, snacks, and music from the nearby tavern, which was being played in the corner by some women. And he had ensured that even the air itself would soothe them.
Now, with everyone relaxed, fed, and smiling, it was time for the real part of his plan.
Almost as if on cue, Aisha, Julie, and Skadi all froze mid-conversation. The faintest flicker of awareness passed through their eyes.
"Ah, I’m sorry, everyone." Julie said gently, raising her hand. "It seems it’s time."
"Oh? Time for what?" One of the women asked curiously.
Julie only smiled faintly. "You’ll see soon."
With that, the three of them turned and began walking toward the stage at the far end of the granary. Their movements were elegant, composed, like soldiers marching to formation.
And when they climbed the small stairs and took their places behind the center of the platform, the crowd fell completely silent.
The air grew heavy with anticipation.
Women who had been chatting moments ago now sat upright, their cups half-raised, eyes fixed on the stage. The ones standing craned their necks for a better look.
"What’s happening?"
"Is it starting?"
"Who are they waiting for?"
Then—thud...thud...thud.
The sound of boots striking the wooden floor echoed across the hushed hall.
Every head turned.
A shadow moved behind the curtain at the back of the stage, and then, from seemingly nowhere, a tall figure stepped out into view.
A collective gasp rippled through the room.
The man who appeared looked almost too perfect to be real—his presence commanding, his movements smooth and unhurried.
He was young, perhaps in his early-twenties, with slightly messy black hair that caught the torchlight, and skin so pale it almost glowed against the dim background.
His lips were faintly curved in an easy smile, and his eyes—oh, his eyes, shone an uncanny shade of crimson, deep and vibrant like polished rubies.
He wore no heavy armor, just a fitted dark coat with silver embroidery that glimmered when he moved, outlining the lean, muscular shape of his body.
The whispering began immediately.
"Who is that?"
"By the gods, he’s handsome..."
"He looks like a noble!"
"I’ve never seen anyone like him in my life..."
"He’s not from around here, that’s for sure."
Some of the younger women blushed so hard that they hid behind their friends. Others simply gaped in stunned admiration.
Even the married ones couldn’t help but whisper about his face, his hands, the way he walked, so confident, so graceful, yet so strong.
"He looks like a prince from the old stories." One woman whispered dreamily.
"Forget prince." Another giggled. "He looks like temptation itself."
Even a few of the older ones exchanged looks and laughed quietly. "If I didn’t already have a husband..." One of them joked, fanning herself.
"...I’d let him ruin my reputation." Another finished, earning a burst of laughter from those around her.
Up on the stage, the man himself, Cassius walked calmly to the center, speaking briefly with Julie before turning to face the crowd.
But before he could speak, a sharp gasp broke the murmuring.
An older woman near the front stood suddenly, her eyes wide in disbelief. "No...it can’t be..." She whispered.
Those around her turned. "What’s wrong?"
Her voice trembled as she pointed toward the stage. "Those eyes, those blood-red eyes! That face! That’s not just anyone...that’s him!"
"Who?"
She swallowed hard, her voice shaking.
"That’s Cassius Vindictus Holyfield...the most depraved Young Master in the entire continent!"
A stunned silence fell instantly.
Dozens of heads snapped toward the stage, eyes widening as they looked again, really looked, at the man standing there.
And suddenly, whispers erupted like wildfire.
"Cassius Vindictus Holyfield? That Cassius?!"
"The one who kidnapped noble ladies?"
"I heard he seduced a queen once!"
"No, no, he blackmailed half the aristocracy!"
"I heard he owns an entire dungeon full of women!"
"My cousin said he once made an empress flee her own palace!"
"The King of Debauchery!"
Rumor after rumor, scandal after scandal, every tale the continent had whispered about Cassius Holyfield came spilling out all at once.
A few of the women went pale, clutching at each other nervously.
Another whispered fearfully. "If he’s here, what does that mean for us? There are hundreds of us locked in here!"
A woman glanced toward the doors, they were firmly shut, bolted from the outside.
"Oh gods..." She muttered. "We can’t even get out."
The fear began to spread again, creeping back into the crowd.
But then they realised something that immediately made them calm down.
Julie, Aisha, and Skadi stood quietly behind Cassius, their postures straight, their expressions unreadable. And if they were standing with him, then perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.
Seeing their calm and collected faces eased the crowd’s panic slightly.
"They’re still here..." One woman whispered. "If it were something terrible, they wouldn’t stay so calm, right?"
"Yes...they’re heroes. They wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us." Another agreed.
Slowly, the anxious murmurs began to fade again, replaced by nervous curiosity.
Whispers circled once more, but now, the tone had changed.
"Maybe the rumors about him are exaggerated..."
"He doesn’t look evil."
"Yes, he’s frighteningly handsome, but...he seems calm. Polite, even."
"Still...he’s that Cassius. What could someone like him possibly want with us?"
A hush fell once more as Cassius stepped forward, his eyes gleaming under the torchlight. He gazed over the sea of faces before him—hundreds of women, all watching him with a mixture of awe, fear, and fascination.
And though many of them still whispered in doubt, they stayed in their seats. Because behind him stood three women they trusted more than anyone on the continent.
And if they believed in him, then maybe, just maybe, it was safe to listen.
Cassius smiled faintly.
The real show was about to begin.