A Gorgeous White

Chapter 25: Veialean Raid

The air within the barrier was stagnant. External sounds could not penetrate the exemplary sound barrier created by the stern young heir of the Fraunces House. Yet, despite the absence of sounds from beyond the barrier, the man with steady golden sun-like pupils could perceive a vague oddity coming from the outside.

Hadrian had often trusted his intuition. This strange anomaly had him raise his guard as he looked past Maxille's shoulders.

Yes, he felt it...

The befouled gaze of manic eyes.

He unconsciously glanced at the silver-haired boy beside him, realizing the lost expected perception of Moulin. This boy could usually sense an upcoming danger accurately. Perhaps without the snow to aid his sense of awareness, Moulin was as ignorant as a baby bird.

Moulin examined the red stone between his fingers. Bring his hand overhead where a halo of moonlight outlined the dull edges of the stone, Moulin squinted his eyes in curiosity. If the evidence was truly precise within this memoranium as Maxille had elaborated, the Sentinel Guilds would immediately send powerful people to intrude with the organization's plans in a blink of an eye. Moulin didn't know anything about the organization named Veial but it certainly sounded foreign and infamous.

"Moulin, I believe your brother does not look thrilled with the thought of your involvement in this particular situation"

With a crease between his brows, Moulin glanced at Hadrian before shifting his gaze upon his eldest brother. Unease was evident in his stern features as Maxille stared at his little brother.

Concurrently, Moulin had furthermore determined the implication of Hadrian's sharp tone in his voice as he spoke. The Archnoble standing beside him clearly wanted to finish things as soon as possible. Who was Moulin to hinder him?

"Here... "

A pale hand presented the stone to the golden-eyed man, who swiftly accepted without a thought. In addition to the 'accidental' warm caresses of his rough fingers, Hadrian's perverse intentions were extremely noticeable to Moulin.

"Thank you for your cooperation" A felicitous-looking smile graced the lord's refined countenance.

"But I believe we are too late..."

"What-"

Interrupting Moulin's unfinished words, a sharp chill flashed past Hadrian's face like a deathly cutting blade. Although the frost bolt nearly sliced the skin's surface, it left a sheet of frost on Hadrian's cheek.

Moulin had reacted too late and horrifyingly stared at his eldest brother who had stretched out an arm. Maxille had worn a deathly expression, an icy mist floating around his open palm. His steel eyes bore a murderous determination.

Thud!

A heavy drop on the stone pavement noised behind the pair's back.

Narrowing his silver eyes, cautiousness finally seeped within Moulin's instincts.

Stepping a foot back, the youth pulled back his shoulder for a clear view. A puddle of crimson liquid advanced as if slithering towards his golden-heeled shoes. The familiar iron smell of death enshrouded the air like a cursed cloud.

There behind him laid a breathless body. A needle-formed Ice blade impaled deep between his brows, penetrating through the skull piercing through his brain.

Moulin wasn't surprised nor was he terrified. Only a sense of danger coated around his heart as he heedfully eyed the corpse within his sight.

The mouth was gaping and the male corpse's eyes were dilated, rolled back underneath his lids out of shock. What was disturbing was the black veins on his face. Even until death, it was vigorously moving as if worms were swarming within.

"For a moment, I had thought you had really done it on purpose..." Hadrian wiped the frost on his cheek with his fingers. "Or is it that your aim had gotten sluggish..."

Maxille lowered his head and muttered an apology. "My aim was not accurate, Your Excellency".

"Don't play with me, young heir"

"Can both of you stop?... " Moulin finally rolled his eyes. He paid no attention to the rudeness within his voice.

With Maxille's sudden attack, the barrier broke and faded away.

A shrill scream pierced through the night followed by a series of shouts and wails.

The once solemn and silent evening had broken into hellish screams and sorrowful cries. With widened eyes, Moulin unconsciously whipped his head towards the nearest cries. A foreboding hair-raising feeling sank deep in his gut.

The air chilled and the sky unusually darkened. Moulin dragged his eyes overhead and a faint creeping shadow reflected into his silvery eyes.

A stretch of black serpentine tendrils engulfed the fluorescent sky, coiling like endless worms completely dimming the entire garden. A barrier had enclosed the garden wholly. As the air gloomed, the bluish pure light of every thirty-six petaled flower slowly shifted in color. From blue... to purple... and finally as red as blood.

The red devilish glow of every moon flower within the garden gleamed as though menacingly. The gem-like centers, corroded into something foul and black, a shadowy dark mist clouding like a ghost.

A hush whispering sound entered every person's ears. A misconceiving foreign language spoken with a phantom tone as if belonging to demons. A dialect completely unfamiliar to everyone but one...

"It has started..." The lord's golden eyes gleamed in the dark.

A rustle of leaves was heard and a boot coldly stepped over a comrade's bloodied corpse. Multiple hooded people bearing glowing crimson eyes stepped out from the shadows. Dissonant voices escaped their muttering mouths as though conjuring a curse.

Veialean people, descendants of demonized humans, craved the resurrection of their God and the fall of the Pillars of Nobility of kingdoms. Minds poisoned by the demonic blood flowing through their veins, they worship flesh not of the living but of the dead. Every living heart was a delectable offering with the belief of strengthening one's soul. Filthy Inhumane humans caught by the allure of the voices in their minds planted by the deep malevolent desires in their hearts.

Moulin is not a very courageous person. He was only brave if it was needed. Yet the beguiling pull of Veialean eyes made him fear his own will power.

"Moulin!"

A harsh grip on his arm hauled him out from his thoughts. He found himself shielded behind his eldest brother. Blinking, a questionable tone escaped his lush lips "Brother?"

"Stay behind me!"

Despite the situation, Hadrian hasn't shown an ounce of worry. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow at Maxille while glancing at Moulin.

Hasn't this doll shown his strength to his family yet? Hadrian had already confirmed this youth's fighting capability and acknowledged it greatly. Witnessing Moulin intensely protected as if he was a fragile porcelain doll made him want to chuckle in amusement.

Although it was tempting to expose the young man, Who was Hadrian to meddle with Moulin's affairs? Besides he might get clawed and bitten out of spite by the little cat.

Moulin had felt Hadrian's gaze, a hint of amusement in the mix. Embarrassment suddenly reddened his ears.

Oblivious to the blushing hue on his cheeks, he ignored Hadrian and focused on the matter at hand.

The Veialeans charged towards the group of three with a thirst for death. Their nails extending like thin pointed blades, black veins bulging through their skin like a web. Their faces looked more like scorched earth, black pulsing veins revoltingly decorating their faces.

Surveying the surroundings, Moulin could point out eight hostiles and counting if more would ever come. Boots heavily stomped, a series of unharmonious cries broke through their gaping mouths.

Maxille clenched his fists as the air around them cooled, a surge of mana glowed within his palms. An approaching Veialean lunged to claw out the young lord's face, blades raising.

In mere seconds a body dropped. A large hole gaping open on the chest, frosted crusted blood and viscera spilled out.

A mournful ear-splitting scream sounded by the other Veialeans. Maxille thickened his guard as he stood in a battle stance.

Moulin backed away as the assault began, his waist leaned on the stone edge of the water fountain. He warily observed the situation if it was dire, he couldn't risk revealing his powers carelessly. At the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar scene replaying before his eyes. A bloodied double edge sword pierced and slash, cutting sharply through bones, tearing through flesh. Golden hair swayed along with sharply executed movements. Feet tapping almost rhythmically.

A golden gleam reflected on Moulin's silver pupils as he once again witnessed Hadrian's ruthlessness as he cut through a body in half with a single swing of his sword. His black clothes were sprayed red and a vile calmness surged deep in his eyes.

The strong iron odor heavily permeated the air along with the chilly gust of expelled mana. Maxille wore a steady expression as numerous giant diamond-like stakes of blue ice orbited around him. The floor around him became slippery and freezing. A couple of Veialeans lost their balance, movements becoming lethargic as they struggled to rise only to be mercilessly stabbed right in the chest as bolts of ice rained down on them. Blood dripped from protruding tips of the impaling bolts as they pierced.

Maxille whirled around after he had finished...

"Moulin!"

A call of warning sounded but it was slower than the alarming senses of the silver-headed youth. Moulin ducked as claws sliced through the air above him. Standing on the water fountain, the Veialean gnashed its teeth at the loss of his target.

Swiveling his body, Moulin abruptly delivered a sharp kick on the knees, knocking his opponent down on the water. Gurgling sounds were cut off from the Veialeans throat as golden heels smashed through his head, crushing rows of teeth and the skull beneath the skin with powerful strength. A crack and a burst of blood and brain matter dyed the clear waters red.

The horrid show of strength was witness by steel grey eyes in undoubted astonishment.

Moulin grunted as he pulled out his boot from the water, a mixture of blood and water clung to his boot as it was raised. He jumped off the fountain and noticed the marveled look of his brother.

Maxille knew about his brother's daily training, Moulin was pushed to his limits until his bones creaked and his arms strained. Although he knew, witnessing the ruthless and unhesitant actions of his youngest brother when in the midst of a life-threatening situation, he could not help but be shocked. The words his brother had said to him back in the northern woods that he had believed we're lies could undoubtedly be the truth after the event he had witnessed.

Swallowing, he had forced himself to accept that his brother was powerless and vulnerable no more.

Hadrian internally amused himself of the little scene in front of him. As much as he wanted to be a spectator, the job wasn't finished.

"Let's go" With an imperious tone of voice, he glanced at Moulin before leading the way out.

"Brother, let's find second brother" Moulin quickly tugged at Maxille's sleeve as they followed Hadrian.

With a nod, Maxille held his brother as they walked with hurried steps.

On the way, A few Veialeans had intercepted them but had failed after a bit of effort. The previously healthy green grass was stained red trailing behind them in every Veialean people they would encounter.

"Report"

The stud earring on Maxille's left lobe glowed green and a rough breathy voice spoke.

|| Sir, the fire pearls on the pillars had failed to detonate ||

Maxilled cursed in his breath.

"How did they manage to enter?"

|| They have a teleporter amongst them. It seems that our plan had been compromised ||

"Where are the others?"

|| Half of our men have been defending the nobles within the pavilion, a few maeruthans had stood with them. I have sent a distress signal to one of our men in the Sentinel Guild. However, if we don't break down the barrier they will not be able to help us... ||

"We're on our own then" A look of distress flashed on his face. Moulin and Hadrian exchanged a look unconsciously.

|| Not entirely, Sir. There were hidden guild members within the crowd. I figured they had already perceived this situation beforehand. Are they one of ours? ||

Maxille closed his mouth, glimpsing at the Archnoble steadily walking before him.

... " Hold your ground and wait for my orders. I'll think of something"

After a short reply, the earring gradually dimmed until it ceased glowing.

"It seems it did not go as you had planned..." Hadrian spoke as he walked leisurely as if strolling through a harmless pathway. With a smug smile, he pocketed his free hand as the other held his sword in a tight grip. "Watch your step, little doll" He amusingly warned Moulin who had glared at him in reply.

"The people of Veial must have predicted my next move..." Maxille gravelly spoke. He didn't know what he had missed for his plans to fail miserably.

"... Or perhaps there may be a traitor hiding under your noses" replied Hadrian.

Maxille turned rigid. That... might be a possibility. It was the closest reason for the cause of this unexpected outcome. However, he had not determine which and who this person was.

Moulin noticed his brother's immediate seriousness after Hadrian's words. Glancing at the esteemed Archnoble sauntering with ease as if unaware of the danger of any red-eyed humans coming to jump at him in surprise.

Moulin felt helpless as an arm pulled him in between Hadrian and Maxille. The young heir of the Fraunces Household was still unsteady for his youngest brother's safety. Moulin might be stronger than Maxille had thought but his brother was still powerless with only his fists to defend himself. Although, Maxille was also worried for his second brother but that idiot could take care of himself undoubtedly.

Their steps grew faster and faster as they neared the root of the various noises coming from the direction ahead of them.

Arriving before a thin arched hedge, silence enveloped them as they witnessed a bloodied scene before their eyes.

Concurrently, hidden within a particular silver-head's pocket, An oval stone carved with foreign elven language glowed a bright silver. The gleamed faintly visible underneath the cloth.

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