Chapter 235: Where Are You?

"Huff… huff… huff…."

His chest rapidly heaved up and down. With his sword grasped within his hand, he swung with great precision. His blade torn through the soft flesh of his opponent's throat. Slashing ruthlessly. Blood splattered on his cheek. The gruesome liquid almost entered his eye if he hadn't blinked in time.

"…" His gray eyes narrowed, and he raised his arm to wipe off the blood on his face with his sleeve. With cold eyes, he flicked the crimson liquid off his blade, and his glacial gaze swept across the sea of corpses layering the ground. He needed to hurry. His family was in danger. His father, injured, his youngest brother was nowhere to be found… and his mother… Maxille clenched his jaw.

He needed to hurry…

When he moved his feet, blood splashed on his ankles, yet he didn't care.

Quickly… He must find them.

"Y-Young Lord!" Panting heavily, a hasty figure scrambled towards him. It was one of his young knights.

Before Maxille could acknowledge his presence, he caught a red-robed appearing behind the knight. His eyes flashed, "Look out!"

"!!!"

Fortunately, the knight lost his footing, making him fall to the bloodied ground. Maxille swung his sword fiercely. Blood sprayed. The fallen corpse didn't look soiled by the blood dyeing his red clothes, unlike the young lord. Stained from head to toe, yet his face remained unperturbed. As he walked over the lifeless body, the frightened young knight hastily thanked his lord with trembling hands. To think he had almost lost his life. If it weren't for his master, he would've died.

"What news do you bring?" Maxille said with dark eyes as he watched the young man stand up.

"My Lord, reinforcements have arrived from the Sentinel Guilds!"

"What?" Maxille furrowed his brows. "Who gave the order?"

"The second young master, My Lord."

Emlen… So he's alright…

Maxille relaxed. "Good"

"Who came?" He asked once again as he eyed another wave of red robes charging towards them with blood-crazed eyes. He gritted his teeth.

"That-"

Boom!

The young knight's words were interrupted when a sudden blast occurred behind him. When he turned around, he could not help but take a step back. His eyes were wide with fear and shock. It was only Maxille who remained quiet.

A giant fire serpent, its body, engulfed in scorching hot flames. Sparks and tongues of fire flew around its massive body. And with burning ruby eyes, it opened its jaw and attacked the pausing men in red. Piercing screams and shrieks filled the rusty air, now filled with the scent of burnt flesh, as the snake slithered about, devouring all of their enemies. The sight was gruesome and cruel.

When all was finished, the snake immediately dispersed into flaming sparks—disappearing before their eyes. Only ash was left of their remains. Figures approached the young heir and the young knight.

"Lord Ordan…" Maxille muttered.

"Lord Maxille" The Guild Lord of the Dragor Guild emerged from the clouds of smoke. Behind him were numerous people. However, not all were wearing the uniform of the renowned Guild Dragor. Most of the people belonged to other guilds, Maxille realized. Nevertheless, he didn't expect to see so many sentinels here to aid them.

"I thank you for your assistance." Maxille nodded to I'm as he sheathed his sword. His eyes watched as countless maeruthans overtook the area, spreading all over the estate. The young knight by his side was instantly relieved. 

"It was the king who sent us…." Ordan said, his eyes glancing at the heir of the Grand Fraunces family, Maxille Fraunces. Their dear Moulin's elder brother. Perhaps, this wasn't their very first time meeting. However, it was the first time they had actually spoken to one another.

"The king?" Maxille turned to him. There wasn't surprise, but distaste filled his expression. Ordan didn't rebuke his annoyance. It was true that the king was an unfit ruler. He could agree with him.

"Yes…" Ordan replied. He shouted a couple of orders to his sentinels before he continued. "The king has known of your youngest brother's name, Moulin. And his bravery and heroism during his mission. His majesty has his eyes on him."

"How irksome…" Coldness flashed in Maxille's eyes. 

Ordan turned to him with a faint smile. "Moulin is indeed loved. I can see it. However, I am not here only to obey the orders of that man. Moulin is a brave and powerful maeruthan. Despite the people's oppositions of his gender, he is strong and kind. Indeed, he lives up your family's name."

"Hm..." Maxille stares ahead. "He... is special."

Seeing the softening eyes of the man who wore a cold expression, Ordan smiled faintly. How loved, indeed.

"Brother!"

Both Lord shifted their attention to the direction of the voice. Their eyes met the sight of the second young master of the Fraunces family hastily approaching them with long strides. What truly captured their scrutiny was the anxiousness written all over Emlen's face. The sight made Maxille feel uneasy.

When Emlen recognized the person standing beside his brother, he paused. 

"Lord Ordan..."

Ordan only nodded his head and replied with a polite greeting.

"What is it?" Maxille asked, interrupting the two people's interaction. 

Facing his elder brother and looking into his gray eyes, Emlen clenched this fists. "I lost Moulin..."

"What?" 

The sentence earned Emlen a dark look. His heart pounded as he drew his eyebrows together. Unease was evident in his sharp features. He didn't bother to realize he had caught the attention of many around them. "Where did you last saw him?"

"We were together, but when he heard the fall of the Southern part of the estate, he ran off to mother's chambers," Emlen gritted his teeth. He clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned a white. "When I arrived, there was no one in her quarters... Except for the corpses on the floor. There was no sign of them."

"No... That can't be... " Maxille shook his head. Did something happen to them? A chill ran up his spine. An ominous feeling crept in his heart. With dreadful eyes, he lifted his head, and he turned to his men. "Find them at once! Search every corner of the manor!"

"I will aid you..." Ordan slipped in. 

The search of the two then began. It confused the other sentinels to witness the uproar caused even when the battle hadn't ended yet. However, some were cooperative. Their father was unconscious and

Injured. It was Maxille's turn to protect his family in his father's stead. However, he feels as though he was failing already. The more time he spent searching for Moulin and their mother, the more his heart grew heavier. Emlen wasn't the least anxious.

"Don't worry. Moulin is a strong person. He will be alright," Oddan spoke to assure.

However, Emlen and Maxille didn't feel comforted at all. Moulin had just recovered. Although his body was alright, he hasn't fully replenished his mana. He was currently weak. And if he did encounter one of those malefic, they knew Moulin would use his mana to defend himself. If he expended more than he can, he would in a state worse than when he had first arrived here in the manor. Moulin was still weak...

Slash!

His blade cut through flesh in a clean strike. As the enemy fell lifeless, Maxille gritted his teeth as he lifted his head. His gaze sweeping across the area, hoping to find the people he was looking for. Unfortunately, there was not even a hint of them.

"Where are they?" Maxille's eyes darkened intensely. His grip on his sword tightened. 

"Brother..." Emlen's eyes turned listless. A dreadful assumption emerged from the depths of his mind. "What if..."

"Don't talk nonsense..." Maxille snapped before Emlen could even continue. 

Emlen knitted his brows. With his scythe in his grasp, he lowered his weapon as he turned away. There was rage in his heart and regret flooding his chest into oceans. He should've run after Moulin right away. If he did... perhaps, he could protect him. Nothing would have happened to him.

Raising his head, Emlen gripped his weapon. "Brother-"

He froze.

"What?" Maxille narrowed his eyes coldly. 

Emlen didn't speak. The direction of his gaze was what caught Maxille's attention. Uncertain, Maxille turned his head.

His body seemed to stiffen.

Walking not far from them were two figures. At first, they thought it was one person. However, they realized it was a man holding the other in his arms—a man of silvery-white hair. 

Through the blood-stained snow with heavy footsteps, eyes of daring gold. 

Silence engulfed the whole area. There was none who could not recognize the person with such features. Lord Hadrian Leonil Hercullio. 

His strong arms held a younger man with silvery-white hair. As pure as moonlight, as white as snow. He was leaning closer to the man as if he was terrified of parting with him. Looking as though he was cold, shoulders trembling, pale hands clasped together. And his expression was hidden as he lowered his head. Lord Hadrian held him tightly. 

And as much as every single soul knew who the golden-eyed man was, they could not mistake the identity of the only person ever bearing such dazzling hair and eyes. Moulin Fraunces...

"Moulin... Moulin!" Emlen called out. 

Fear filled his bones. That man... Once again has his brother. This time Emlen wasn't impulsive. Despite the writhing anger, despite the fear crawling underneath his skin, he only watched as the man approached them. Maxille, like his brother, did the same and felt the same. However, anyone could sense the heavy tension settling within the air.

Moulin, who heard his brothers' call, stopped. His breathing stifled. He felt like he was choking. 

But he turned his head. And when he did, his eyes could not help but moisten. He needed to tell them. No matter how hard it is. How excruciatingly difficult it is to say to them. He needs to...

"Moulin?"

Maxille spoke. He sensed something amiss. The dread in his little brother's eyes alarmed him. His gaze fell on Hadrian. Somehow it seemed as if there was a little voice whispering to him that that man was to blame for Moulin's pain. Outrage immediately overwhelmed him; however, before he could make a move, Moulin suddenly pulled away from Hadrian. And surprisingly, Hadrian lets him go.

"Brother..." Moulin was at the brink of shedding tears as he slowly made his way towards Emlen and Maxille.  His steps were faltering as though he would fall to his knees at any second.

Why? Why made Moulin this way?

Unable to bear the sight, Emlen dashed forward and held Moulin. The moment he did, Moulin's knees fave away. Emlen had to hold his brother as they kneeled on the ground carefully.

"Moulin... What's wrong? Why are you-"

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." Moulin shakes his head. He was muttering as he held his closed fist to his heart. A tear fell down his cheek, "I'm sorry..."

Maxille hurriedly lowered in confusion. His eyes glanced at Hadrian, but he placed his whole attention on his youngest brother. "Moulin... "

His heart ached as he continued to watch Moulin mutter apologies. His eyes were so red, a sign that he had been crying long before.

...

"Moulin..." Maxille slowly spoke. "Where is our mother?"

At the sound of those words, Moulin could no longer hold in the despair in his heart. His hands shook. And with sorrowful eyes, he lifted his gaze to the both of them.

His fists slowly loosened. His bloodied palms revealed themselves. A soft glow was reflected on their both brothers' identical gray eyes—a glowing blue crystal. Its brilliance felt familiar. So familiar.

Both of them were silent. Moulin's shoulders shook as tears fell from his eyes. "I... wasn't s-strong enough... I-Its all my fault... It's all my fault... I'm sorry...." He stammered between sobs. The excruciating ache began to devour his insides bit by bit. Regret. Guilt. Helplessness.

Silence...

...

"No..." Emlen slowly shook his head. "No... This... No... This is-isn't true... " His voice was shaking. A terrible shock seemed to electrify his soul. "This... can't be..."

Maxille stared at the blue stone on his dear brother's bloodied hands. His eyes seemed to bore a hole through the crystal. The shock was so extreme; it pierced through his soul. What was Moulin saying?...

Where is their mother?

Around the pitiful three, the world seemed to turn gray, deaf, and lifeless. Seeming to stop, pouring down pain, flooding them with agony and anguish. 

...