"What’s the meaning of this?!" Adele roared, her blade flashing into her hand.
In that instant, her aura erupted—a violent tempest of force exploding outward. The wind screamed, kicking up dust and rubble in cyclonic bursts around her. Shockwaves pulsed from her body in all directions, shaking the earth and tearing loose branches from nearby trees. Her cloak snapped like a whip in the pressure.
Her knights immediately responded, trained instincts taking over.
Steel rang out as dozens of swords and spears were drawn in unison. Shields locked into formation with a thunderous rhythm. The front line formed a protective wall around Adele’s carriage, while archers aimed their arrows up toward the cliff, ready to fire on command. Faces tensed, teeth clenched, their eyes burning with fear and resolve in equal measure.
But atop the cliff, Martina only chuckled, arms crossed, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischief and calm threat.
"We aren’t here for a fight, Adele.We came for a deal."
She took a single step forward and then—
A red tide of force surged outward, slamming against Adele’s wind like colliding storms. The very air between them fractured under the weight of their powers—lightning cracking across invisible fault lines. Trees groaned as bark peeled away. Rocks split. Horses reared and screamed, backing away in panic as knights struggled to stay upright.
The clash of pressure was immense—a battlefield of willpower, where neither woman backed down. Guards dropped to their knees, suffocating under the sheer weight of the overlapping dominion, their bodies drenched in sweat, fingers trembling on hilts.
And yet, Martina remained calm, unbothered, her hand slowly drifting to her sword.
With a whisper of steel, she drew her blade from its scabbard—a long, curved saber, humming softly with ancient runes etched into its edge.
"But believe me when I say this..." she said, her voice clear and heavy with intent.
"If you dare begin the fight... then no matter the outcome—whether you’re dead or alive—every soul in Heinzen will know...That the Grand Duke has been hiding a traitor."
A shudder of silence followed.
Adele’s eyes widened. Her mind snapped, shaken by the implication—by the threat of the political weight behind those words.
Her grip tightened until her knuckles whitened. Blood dripped slowly from her lips—bitten through by fury.
Her voice cracked with cold murder.
Her instincts screamed to kill. To strike. To bury her blade in their smug faces.
But slowly painfully she closed her eyes, drawing in a trembling breath.
"Fine..." she exhaled through gritted teeth.
"Let’s see what you have to offer."
She turned toward her guards, her voice like an icy whip. "Stand down. Let them come."
"Did I ask for your opinion?" Adele snapped, her glare shutting down all resistance.
Reluctantly, the knights began to part—a path opening as they lowered their weapons, tension still trembling in their fingertips.
From above, Kael and Martina moved.
Without fear, they stepped off the cliff—dropping like shadows in a blur of motion. Wind curled around them as they landed—silent, controlled, deadly—right before Adele’s carriage, their expressions unreadable.
And for the first time in this confrontation...
Words would take precedence over blood.
Martina and Kael walked forward, their steps unhurried, heavy with silent dominance.
Kael glanced at Adele, and even without using his full perception, he could tell—she was seething inside, cursing them in all kinds of colorful ways behind that icy, impassive expression.
Adele’s eyes locked onto them, sharp and imperious.
"Tell me."Her voice was cold, direct.
Martina stepped up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
"I’ll get straight to the point."
The words landed like a sudden blade—simple, sharp, and cutting.
Adele’s expression twisted. "Your maid?" she scoffed.
"That’s my brother’s maid. Which means she belongs to House Veydrin by right. I have every authority to keep her."
Martina’s brow twitched. Her neck cracked slightly as she instinctively turned to glance at Kael, clearly startled—but at the last moment, she restrained herself, forcing her eyes forward and jaw tight.
Kael, meanwhile, nearly began cursing aloud in frustration.
This was exactly what he had feared.
’Of course it turned out . I should’ve just burned down the damn forest and carried everyone myself.’
His mind spiraled. There was no walking away now. This wasn’t a simple negotiation—it was a trap of words and legacy.
’Next time... I’m not letting anyone wander without Veydrin escorts. No freelancing, no assumptions. I’ll chain them if I have to.’
Still, his gaze returned to Martina.
’Damn... even caught off guard, she didn’t flinch. A true royal. Ruthless and poised. None of them are to be taken lightly.’
Martina regained her composure, folding her arms as she delivered her counter.
"She might have been your housemaid. But now she’s with me.I found her in the forest and she was injured and now she’s under my protection now. Unless Kael Veydrin himself comes to claim her, she’s not going anywhere."
Adele opened her mouth, ready to protest—but Martina cut her off with a subtle tilt of her head and a sharp tongue.
"By the way... where is your brother Kael?"Last I heard, he disappeared."
Adele’s voice turned sharp. "I don’t know."
Martina raised an eyebrow, her voice now lined with suspicion.
"You don’t know? Or are you hiding him?"Is he involved in something... questionable?"
"There’s nothing like that. Mind your own business," Adele snapped.
"And as for that demoness—I’m not handing her over."
The guards flinched slightly at Adele’s harsh command.
But Martina didn’t move. She simply narrowed her eyes, a dangerous light flashing within them. She stepped closer to Adele, her voice low and chilling.
"Adele...You seem to be overestimating your position."
She leaned in, close enough that her words could slide like poison into Adele’s ear.
"Sure, Rein may remain untouched by scandal... but if the truth comes out, you will be the one hanging from the gallows.You’ve been dealing with Nightstar—in secret—behind the Emperor’s back. That’s high treason."
Adele’s face paled instantly. The blood drained from her lips, and her fists clenched at her sides.
"Are you threatening me?" she hissed, barely able to contain her fury.
Martina smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of the lips, dripping with elegance and menace.
"It’s more than a threat.My people already sent the evidence.If I die,within 12 hours, your name will reach the Emperor’s court... and believe me, I’ve ensured it can’t be stopped."
She giggled softly at the end, a wicked melody.
The threat didn’t just hang in the air—it strangled it, tightening the noose around Adele’s defiance.