Chapter 7: Are you worthy to be my Master?
Inside the Storage room,
Drip... Drip...
Blood dripped from Leo’s body in heavy, sluggish drops as he leaned lifelessly against the cold wall. His trembling hand gripped the staff lodged into his stomach. The crimson liquid trailed down his torso and soaked into the floor, forming a thick, dark pool beneath his feet.
Crimson and cold...
Step... Step...
Footsteps echoed into the silence.
A man with jet-black hair stepped inside the ruined storage room. The door had been flung open violently, letting light pour over the dust-choked floor. The room was nearly empty, save for cobweb-covered corners and forgotten boxes, their contents long rotted away. It was clear no one had stepped in here for years—until now.
The man’s sharp eyes scanned the room before settling on the broken figure of Leo. The boy’s head was slumped forward, hair shadowing his face, body unmoving.
The man let out a long sigh as he stood in the doorway, a bitter look curling on his lips. "Tch... I can’t believe it’s come to this," he muttered, more to himself than to Leo. "You really are making me do dirty things, Master."
He scratched the back of his head, his expression shifting into a mix of frustration and something strangely soft—like guilt fighting annoyance. "Sigh... Sorry, kid. But this is your fate."
He walked toward Leo and gripped the staff that had impaled him. His fingers tightened around the staff, and he spoke again in a quieter tone, like a whisper meant only for dying ears.