Chapter 100: No Mercy for the Traitor
Azriel
I frowned, my eyes briefly meeting Lumiel’s down in the hall before snapping back to Seraphel’s blue eyes. I could tell he was genuinely just curious, but yet again, the ugly monster of jealousy grew inside my chest. I was the only sovereign in this entire realm deserving of his focus, not my brother.
"Lumiel wore those gloves so he does not utterly shatter the servant’s mind into dust," I responded after taking a few seconds to calm down the sudden, fiery outburst of jealousy over my brother. "The deep memory search is..."
I stopped talking abruptly and pointed down toward the servant kneeling directly in front of Lumiel.
Thick, dark blood had suddenly begun to pool out from the servant’s ears and eyes.
"...a rather visceral affair," I finished my sentence smoothly. "The deep search inflicts such damage."
"That appears horrifyingly painful," Seraphel said, his tone instantly shifting into deep sadness and pity.
"It pales in comparison to the agony of enduring five hundred deaths under Mirevale’s curse," I reminded him sternly. "This insect’s suffering is a mere drop in the ocean compared to what you endured. Whosoever commanded this foul act shall perish by my hand this very day," I declared, shifting firmly on my throne as I turned my focus back to Lumiel.
The air in the room grew noticeably colder and dead silent as Lumiel raised his gloved hands, placing them over the servant’s head, and started whispering under his breath in an ancient, forbidden language.
"Venite et ostendite mihi memoriam vestram..." (Come forth and show your memories to me...)
The moment the dark Chant was spoken, the servant started screaming hysterically, thrashing and kicking his limbs in violent agony.
A few seconds later, Lumiel abruptly stopped the spell and pulled his hands away from the man’s head.
"This one," Lumiel muttered, turning around toward my throne while stripping the gloves from his hands. "He was the physical tool who planted the curse. Yet he acted under orders—commanded by another of your playthings named Slyven."
"Slyven!" A sharp gasp escaped from Seraphel’s mouth, and he whirled his head toward me in utter disbelief. "He is one of the..."
"I am aware," I responded through gritted teeth, clenching my free hand into a tight, murderous fist. "Malachi, summon all the concubines to this hall at once."
Malachi turned toward the throne, lowered his head in a deep bow, and vanished into thin air in the blink of an eye.
As soon as Malachi disappeared, I turned my full attention back toward Seraphel. I could see him fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair. He even slowly pulled his small hand completely away from mine, breaking our physical touch.
"Are you unwell?" I questioned him, leaning closer.
He offered no answer, keeping his face turned away.
The moment he ignored me, I felt something hit me hard right in the center of my chest—a gut-wrenching, agonizing sensation that felt like a complete and total rejection by Seraphel.
A wave of heavy guilt washed over me. It was all my fault. My lust, my chaotic concubine hall, and this damned curse had almost caused Seraphel to die.
"Fear not," I promised him, my voice dropping into a dark, solemn tone. "I shall inflict upon that servant and Slyven a torment beyond their worst nightmares."
I stood up from the central throne, stepping down the marble stairs and walking slowly toward where Lumiel stood in front of the bleeding servant.
The servant was slowly coming back to his senses, though his head remained lowered to the floor. The second he felt my towering, suffocating presence standing above him, he started shaking in violent fright.
"So it was you," I muttered, a light, chilling chuckle escaping my lips. "You are the vermin who dared lay the curse." I reached down, grabbed a large handful of his hair, and forcefully yanked his head back until his face was forced to look directly into mine. "You dare lay your hands upon what is mine!" I spoke in a low, piercing tone that rattled the very air around us. "You forced my mate to endure endless deaths! You placed the imperial heir of Lust in jeopardy!"
My voice grew stronger and more terrifying with every single word, and the servant broke down, shakily bursting into hysterical tears.
"Forgive me, Your Highness! I was merely obeying orders! Have mercy, Your Highness!" he repeated over and over, his whole body quaking with terror.
I chuckled darkly at his useless pleas, then dragged him by his hair across the cold marble floor until I threw him down right at Seraphel’s feet.
"Kowtow and beg for your life!" I commanded him, my voice echoing like thunder through the hall, sounding far more demonic than human. "Apologize to my mate for attempting his murder!"
The servant shook terribly, pressing his head down as he wept uncontrollably against the stone. But I was unsatisfied with his weak display, so I gestured to two heavily armored guards standing nearby.
The guards rushed forward, grabbed the servant tightly by his shoulders, and forcefully slammed his head down onto the marble over and over again. Every single time they forced him down, his forehead hit the hard ground with a sickening thud, until a dark pool of blood began to form directly at the feet of Seraphel’s chair.
"Beg!" I roared at the top of my lungs, my crimson aura and red flaring light bursting wild and uncontrolled around my body.
"Mercy! I beg for mercy..." the servant panted, gasping for air every time the guards slammed his head down hard onto the stone once again.
Seraphel sat frozen in his chair with his mouth wide open, staring back and forth between the bloody servant and me in absolute shock. I thought that maybe he still had not gotten used to such raw violence, or maybe he was internally trying to figure out how to properly punish the traitor.
Knowing that he must detest this servant just as deeply as I did, I raised my hand for the guards to pause their torture.
"Speak your mind, Seraphel," I asked, turning to face him directly. "Does this treacherous slave deserve your forgiveness?"
"I..." Seraphel stuttered, his voice catching in his throat.
He was trembling. He was afraid—after all, this very servant had actively tried to murder him—and seeing that fear only fueled my inner anger even more.
"Do not fear, my love, for I shall personally deliver your vengeance," I said softly.
I stretched my open hand out toward the bloodied servant. Thick, thorny black vines instantly shot up out of the stone floor, piercing ruthlessly through the body of the servant and lifting his bleeding frame high up into the air.
The servant screamed out in sheer, unbearable agony as he struggled uselessly in midair, but his pathetic suffering only made a wide smile spread across my face. While he looked like he was on the absolute verge of dying, I paused the execution for a brief second, only to start the cruelty again by driving the sharp thorns even deeper into his flesh, making sure every single vine shredded him inside and out.
Then, one particularly thick vine wrapped itself tightly around his chest, tightening its lethal grip around his body until his ribs flattened with a brutal crunch.
The vine then slithered its way up toward his face, driving its sharp tip directly into his left eye, while another vine found its way and plunged straight into his right eye.
The servant let out one final, blood-curdling scream that vibrated through the entire room—and then, sudden, absolute silence filled the hall.
The only sound that followed was the sickening drip of his heavy blood pooling onto the marble floor below. I slowly lowered my hand, releasing the magic, and watched his lifeless body fall from the air, hitting the ground with a dull, heavy thud.
"As ruthlessly dramatic as ever, brother," Lumiel remarked, laughing dryly as he wiped his hands. His sharp eyes then shifted to meet Seraphel’s wide ones. "Though it appears your delicate human is struggling to digest such a spectacle."
I looked back toward Seraphel, my eyes wide as I gave him a searching, questioning look. "Is that so, my lotus? Was his death far too merciful for your liking? Should I have forced him to beg longer? Should I have dragged his soul through deeper torment before ending his miserable life?" I asked him, my pupils dilating with every question.
But Seraphel couldn’t answer me. He remained completely speechless, and I could smell the distinct scent of his fear wafting through the air.
Even though he was not visibly shaking anymore, I could smell just how genuinely terrified he was of me at that exact moment.
"Remember that he sought your destruction, Seraphel, and that you nearly perished by his hand," I told him gently, stepping closer to his chair. "This was the gentlest end he could have received in this realm. Had Lumiel claimed his soul, his demise would have been ten times more horrific. Do not look upon me with distaste, my love. My family comes above all else—and anyone who dares touch you or our unborn child shall meet an identical, miserable fate."
Seraphel’s eyes widened as he absorbed my words. I could not tell if he was filled with awe or still disgusted by the brutal manner in which I delivered judgment, but as I watched his face, I felt his sharp fear slowly begin to fade away into the air.
And right then, I knew deep down that he agreed with me.