A Gorgeous White

Chapter 309: Caught In Surprise

How could there be no one?

The sole of Moulin's boot scraped the cold, filthy stone floor as he took one step forward. He swept throughout the area as he began to advance inside. The smell was more pungent, filthier. As if it was a ditch to dispose of both human and animal carcasses. Pairs of chained cuffs were embedded on the walls. The floor inside the cells was stained with patches of red. Blood. Moulin resisted imagining the life of their imprisoned men under these thick rocks. However, he had grasped the fact that none of them lived without suffering in this horrible place.

Emlen's face turned distorted as he followed behind his little brother. His fists clenched as he realized. They that there was not a single soul within each cell. Were they... too late?

Suddenly, Moulin ceased his steps. His head turned slightly, looking behind his shoulder.

"You."

His eyes caught the servant's gaze, who was trembling, taking a step back when Moulin began to walk towards him like a prowling lion. But the men behind him blocked him from escaping Moulin's gaze.

"You said there were people. There's not even one guard." Moulin spoke. His patience was thinning.

The servant swallowed, and he could not help but lower himself, stuck in a trembling state. "Y-Yes, there were."

"Were?" Moulin raised his chin.

Walking to his side was Emlen. The Lord shook his head, concluding that there were no hidden passages within the slaughter room's dungeon. "Are we caught in a trap?"

"If we are, then we have no choice but to advance, fight back," said Moulin.

"W-Wait! I'm... I'm not finished!" The servant spoke loudly. His sudden outburst caused the two brothers to turn their attention to him with cold gazes. This servant knows too much about them. If he were useless, then they would have to get rid of him.

Seeing the distrust in their eyes, the young attendant hesitated.

"Tell me what you know," Moulin ordered. A freeze laced his voice, and a sudden chill rose inside the room. His eyes looked like they could pierce through diamonds. "Are they taken to the feast for your masters to devour?"

The servant shook his head. His short curls covered his eyes as he lowered his gaze. Biting his lip, he spoke. "They are taken elsewherea hidden place. I'm not sure, but I heard the guards talking about another slaughter room inside the Royal Wing. The masters wanted to... keep the flesh in a cleaner environment. They don't mind the smell. It makes them even hungrier. I know the place. I can take you there."

When his words finished, Moulin turned to his brother, who nodded. Moulin took one last look at the servant before beckoning him to follow. The men silently parted to make way for the aphrodite maeruthan. Heaving a sigh of relief, the servant unclenched his hands on his chest before timidly following Moulin out of the room.

Walking towards the kitchen doors, Moulin abruptly turned to him and spoke. "Your name..."

Caught off guard, the servant blinked. He gulped and hunched his shoulders. "Mellano, sir."

Moulin gave a nod at him and looked away from him. As his fingers were about to touch the door, he abruptly stopped.

Moulin hastily raised his head, sensing multiple presences approaching behind the door. The noise grew nearer, and Moulin, conscious of the sudden circumstance, took a step back and revealed an alarming look at his elder brother. His silver eyes are wide with caution.

Emlen understood quickly, but there was no other exit inside the kitchens. The only way in was the only way out. Layers and layers of solid earth surrounded them. They are trapped, and sooner they will be caught. Moulin's mind became clear. They were really caught in a trap. His eyes snapped towards Mellano, who flinched, anxious about the sudden turn of events.

Mellano hastily spoke up, almost desperately. "W-Wait! If they don't find you here, then they'll think you've already left."

"And how are we suppose to conceal ourselves inside this place?" One of the men said, grabbing Mellano by the shoulder.

"I know another way. They won't find us. Don't barricade the door. They will be even more suspicious."

"Then hurry and tell us." Said Emlen as he cautiously eyed the doors. His hands were itching to just freeze a hundred layers of thick ice over it.

Mellano was quick as he strode towards the south of the kitchen. He clumsily bumped at pieces of furniture, undoubtedly pressured by the gazes of the men behind him as well as the possibility of being caught before he could help. Finally, standing before a tall wooden closet filled with pots and pans, he moved to the side and began pushing the heavy wooden cabinet with all his might. Emlen, Moulin, and the others hastened to aid him. Their hands altogether forced the furniture to move several inches to the side.

Dust rained over their heads. Mellano panted, sweat formed on his forehead. Moulin glanced at him, feeling a bit concerned.

Finally, they gazed in surprise at a narrow passage revealing itself before their eyes once the cabinet was moved aside. The tunnel was pitch-black, and it was too small for a grown man or woman to enter, but it was large enough to allow one to crouch inside. The jagged ceiling and walls concluded that it was poorly made, as if the person who made was desperate to dig out the tunnel.

"Come, hurry! We need to go." Mellano urged them with worried eyes. He beckoned them inside as he bent his waist and entered the darkness.

The men hurriedly followed the thin young man, hastily entering the passageway. When it was their turn, Emlen turned to Moulin and urged his brother to go first. Without wasting time, Moulin obeyed his brother's words and entered the tunnel. Emlen followed after him.

With a rumbling sound, the cabinet slid close, concealing the tunnel as if it was never there. At the same time, several armed orcs barged inside the kitchens.

..................

The cheer was so loud a deaf man could regain his hearing again.

A swirl of golden ribbons filled the air along with the magical shimmer from the crystals above. Even the servants, slaves, and guards paused in bewilderment, hooked by the stunning and exciting performance at the center of the hall. Numerous eyes enveloped the particular group of people presenting in the middle of the hall. Their steps are light as if they were walking on air, and their movements were elegant and fierce.

The audience was captivated, Malyana could safely assume from the dazed look in their eyes and the amazed expressions on their faces. As she twirled to the center of the ring, the 'dancers' formed for her. She tipped her head up, arms swaying, as she swept her eyes all over the dais. The Orcan Lord and his little minions, indeed, looked charmed. They were laying back, enjoying the company of their scantily clad slaves. However, their eyes never left her and the team.

The perfume Harow had planted was taking effect. A few minutes more, and she could safely presume that it was time to take the next step.

Suddenly, the beat paused, and the performers stopped like statues. Confused and curious looks swept around them.

In the next instant, the music began, transformed into a daring and yet stimulating rhythm. The crowd started to cheer once again, oblivious of the strange, uncertain looks of the performers in the dance. A dazzle of golden light rained from the jewels of the ceiling. It looked as though stars were gently falling, glittering in the air like delicate fallen snow. Following the now slow melodious music, Malyana and the other moved back, parting for the entrance of one man standing behind the group.

Golden-haired in a golden mask, clad in elegant robes, and armed with two long swords, he stood like a mighty figure, unbothered by the fascinated and curious stares surrounding him. The crowd widened their eyes, thrilled by what cones next and the appearance of the good-looking man in the group.

The Orcan Lord raised a brow. A smirk hung on his lips as he sat and watched.

While the rest of the dancers balled their fists around the blades produced within their sleeves, the masked man raised the tips of his swords and swung in full force cutting through the wind and splitting the drizzle of gold.

Instead of being wary of the weaponry exposed in front of the High Lord, the people were even more enthusiastic. Their eyes brightened, almost daze-like, shining in awe as the man wielded his sword as if he was cutting through flesh. There was a trail of elegance behind his movements, clean and precise, as well as the undoubted show of strength. None could determine the true look in his eyes because he was always moving. Graceful and fierce.

Selia almost wanted to cry as she took a glimpse at the golden-haired Lord. If his lover were here, they would surely be a magnificent sighta dance of Silver and Gold.

As the music escalated, the rest of the dancers brought out their knives, skillfully tossing them in the air as they moved like water.

As their formation change, Malyana patiently used her perception to determine the number of people inhaling the perfume. Her mana is fused with the contents of the perfume pouches. In addition to her ability to track the fragments of her mana, she was able to trace the accumulation of her mana inhaled by every single being within the halls. She was able to direct the perfume away from her and the dancers to avoid being influenced by the scent.

After a couple of minutes, her eyes gleamed sharply. She sensed the last man consume a significant amount of her mana, and she knew it was time to advance to the next step.

As she tossed her knife in the air with one hand, her hidden hand signaled the rest of the men behind her. It is time. Jagra swallowed as he glanced at Lord Hadrian, who immediately received Malyana's sign.

Hadrian frowned. He took both swords, spun them behind his back before throwing them in the air. While the audience's attention trailed on the sword that launched itself to the ceiling, stabbing one of the crystals, Hadrian pierced the marbled floor with the other blade. Electricity crackled within the air, in line with the hilts of both swords.

A burst of electricity erupted, and Malyana chanted a short spell, allowing the explosion to distribute her mana and the spell throughout the area. Red smoke enveloped the halls, devouring every crevice.

The Orcan Lord's eyes widened. The scent did not influence him too much. However, along with his subjects, he was too late to react. He watched as the red haze devoured him.

........................

Bam!

"Agh!"

Letting out a sound of complaint, Emlen cursed as he rubbed the top of his head. His eyes swept around the area. A dim hallway illuminated only by the faint shine of a few crystals on the ceiling. Moulin hurriedly went to him, checking if he was alright.

"You knocked your head?" Moulin furrowed his brows, glancing at the tunnel behind him.

"Even I can knock my head. I'm not some perfect diety." Emlen said as he rose from the floor.

Moulin chuckled faintly as he turned his head. With the rest of the group, he followed Mellano through hallways.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM