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Chapter 76: ’Run!’

Chapter 76: ’Run!’

A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the clearing.

The sound was almost mocking. It carried through the still air, each impact reverberating like a taunt.

"Well, well, well... what do we have here?"

Florian’s blood ran cold.

His breath stilled, his heart stopped—just for a second.

’How did he get here?’

Dread curled around Florian’s spine like ice, slithering into his veins and locking his limbs in place. Slowly—like any sudden movement might shatter him—he turned his head.

And there he was.

Arthur.

He stood just a few feet away, arms crossed, the ever-present smirk on his lips twisted into something darker. Amused. Cruel. His golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he surveyed the scene: Levi bleeding, pinned to the earth, and Florian frozen in place, panic carved into every line of his face.

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You know," he drawled, "for a while there, I actually believed you." His smirk widened, razor-sharp. "Your little act was almost convincing. The way you looked at us... touched us. So desperate. So needy."

Florian’s stomach churned, bile clawing its way up his throat.

Arthur tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his gaze. "But Charles—Charles is smarter than that. He should’ve seen through you immediately. Yet somehow, you had him eating out of the palm of your hand. That’s what I don’t get."

Florian clenched his jaw. ’Don’t react.’

Arthur’s expression hardened, and he took a slow, deliberate step forward. "Tell me, Your Highness," he taunted, "what did you say to make him fall for such an obvious trick?"

Florian forced his features into something cold, unreadable. "I don’t know what you mean."

For a fraction of a second, Arthur’s grin faltered—but only just. He let out a laugh, sharp and cutting. "Playing dumb? Cute." His voice dipped lower, dripping with venom. "But it doesn’t matter now. Because I’m going to drag you back to the hideout and fuck you until you beg me to stop."

A wave of nausea slammed into Florian. His breath hitched as cold sweat slicked his skin. Arthur wasn’t bluffing. He never bluffed.

Arthur’s gaze darkened, predatory. "I’ll make sure not even the horniest bastard would want you anymore."

A strangled gasp tore from Levi’s throat. He tried to push himself up, but the moment he moved, pain ripped through him, and he crashed back down with a sharp hiss. His breath came in ragged, shallow bursts.

"Your Highness—" Levi’s voice was raw, desperate. "Run. Get the fuck out of here. Now."

Florian’s entire body locked up.

Run?

His instincts screamed at him to move, to flee—but Levi was pinned, blood soaking into the dirt, staining his clothes in thick, glistening streaks.

’I can’t leave him. I can’t—’

Arthur sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "Still worried about your that little shit? How pathetic." He snapped his fingers.

The ground beneath Levi convulsed.

Wooden branches twisted and surged anew—sharp, jagged tendrils that shot up and pierced Levi’s other leg.

Levi screamed.

A raw, gut-wrenching sound that sent pure terror slamming into Florian’s chest.

"Levi!" His voice cracked. He stumbled forward, instinct overriding thought, but Arthur lifted a hand, wagging a finger.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, Your Highness."

Florian froze, breath shuddering out of him. His fists clenched at his sides, his entire body trembling with the force of his panic. He wanted to fight—wanted to throw himself at Arthur and rip him apart—but he knew it was useless. Arthur held all the cards.

Levi’s breathing was jagged, each inhale a struggle. His fingers clawed at the dirt, his teeth clenched so tightly they creaked. Yet somehow, he lifted his head, his bloodshot eyes locking onto Florian’s.

"Go," Levi rasped. "You have to—"

Arthur scoffed, cutting him off. "Look at you. Pathetic." His gaze flickered to Levi, his lips curling in disgust. "You forgot why we did this job in the first place, didn’t you? Sacrificed everything just to help a wimpy little prince." He sneered. "You make me sick."

Levi didn’t answer. Didn’t even spare Arthur a glance. His eyes remained fixed on Florian, unwavering despite the agony twisting his features.

Florian’s breath came in frantic bursts. His thoughts spiraled.

’What do I do? How do I—’

Tears burned at the edges of his vision, but he forced them back. He couldn’t afford to break. Not now. Not while Levi was suffering.

Not while Arthur was still standing there, waiting to tear them both apart.

Then, like a spark in the darkness, a desperate, reckless thought ignited in Florian’s mind.

If he couldn’t fight his way out...

He would have to outsmart him.

Florian’s gaze flicked to the forest beyond Arthur. Shadows stretched long, creeping over the trees like silent ghosts. If he could just—

Arthur stepped closer. Too close.

The sharp scent of iron clung to the air, mixing with the earthy tang of damp soil. Florian forced himself to meet Arthur’s gaze, his heart hammering wildly in his chest.

"You’re right," he said softly, just enough for Arthur to hear.

Arthur’s smirk flickered, uncertainty creeping into his expression. "Am I?"

"You are." Florian inhaled sharply, fighting to steady his breath. "I fooled Charles. I fooled you."

Arthur’s golden eyes darkened, the amusement draining from his face. His fingers twitched at his side—a subtle but dangerous sign.

Florian took a step back, slow and measured. ’Stay calm. Just keep him talking.’

"But you know what I don’t get?"

Arthur arched a brow, intrigued despite himself. "What?"

Florian’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smirk. "How you let me do it so easily."

The words hit their mark. Arthur’s face twisted in a mixture of rage and disbelief. And that was all Florian needed.

He ran.

Florian ran.

The forest blurred around him, branches whipping at his face and arms. The pounding of his heart drowned out everything else—except Levi’s voice, cutting through the chaos like a desperate plea.

"Run the other way! Don’t fight! Your Highness, please!"

But Florian didn’t listen. He couldn’t.

There was still one more thing.

Arthur’s heavy footsteps thundered behind him, gaining fast.

And then, confusion flickered across Arthur’s face—so fleeting it was almost imperceptible. Maybe it was overconfidence. Maybe he thought Florian wouldn’t dare.

But that was his mistake.

Florian pivoted on his heel, lungs burning, and lunged toward him.

Arthur’s eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his features. He had no time to react.

Florian’s body moved on instinct, his muscles taut with desperation and fury. But the moment he surged forward, a memory slammed into him—vivid and brutal.

The original Florian, struggling beneath Arthur’s weight. His hands shoved and clawed, trembling with terror. "Please," the original Florian gasped, his voice hoarse. "Stop."

Arthur’s breath was hot against his ear, his voice dripping with venom. "No one’s going to want you now."

Pain. Shame. Terror.

A broken sob tore from Florian’s throat in the memory, swallowed by the night.

Arthur’s sickening laugh echoed through the darkness.

Florian staggered, breath hitching as the vision seared through his mind like a brand. His chest heaved, hatred boiling over, consuming him.

’No more.’

His trembling hands gripped the torch—his last weapon. With a fierce snarl, he twisted it into a makeshift spear.

And in one swift, desperate motion, he aimed it straight for Arthur’s heart.

’Just die already!’

Arthur snapped out of his daze just in time. Unlike Charles, he was fast—deadly fast. He dodged, the spear missing his chest by mere inches. But Florian’s aim wasn’t wasted. The torch struck Arthur’s leg with a sickening thud.

Arthur roared in pain, a guttural, furious sound. His eyes blazed with rage as he lashed out, his fist crashing into Florian’s face.

The world tilted violently.

White-hot pain exploded behind Florian’s eyes as he hit the ground hard, his body skidding through the dirt.

’Fuck!’

His vision blurred, stars dancing across his field of view. Blood filled his mouth, hot and metallic.

Arthur’s voice, sharp and venomous, cut through the haze. "You little shit. You’re going to regret that."

Florian’s chest heaved as he fought to rise, but his body felt sluggish, every limb trembling with exhaustion and pain. His breath stuttered, panic threatening to consume him.

That was when he saw it.

The faint glow around Arthur’s neck—a chain glinting in the dim light.

A mana stone.

Arthur’s smirk stretched wider, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "I’m gonna put holes in that pretty face of yours."

Magic. The shimmering glow around his fingers was unmistakable.

Florian’s stomach plummeted. ’He’s going to kill me.’

Every nerve in his body screamed at him to move, to dodge, to fight—but fear rooted him in place.

’I’m going to die.’

He braced himself, breath hitching—

But before Arthur could make his move, something crashed into him with the force of desperation.

Levi.

Weak. Broken. Bleeding.

But still fighting.

"Levi!" Florian’s voice cracked, raw with shock and fear. His entire body seized.

Levi didn’t look at him. His face was contorted with pain, blood streaking down his temple, but his eyes burned with fierce determination. With the last shreds of his strength, he wrenched the spear from Arthur’s leg and, in one savage motion, drove it deep into his torso.

Arthur’s howl split the night—a furious, guttural scream that reverberated through the trees.

Florian lurched forward, panic tightening his throat. "Levi, stop! You’ll die!"

Levi coughed violently, blood splattering his lips. His body trembled, but his grip on the spear never wavered.

His voice was strained, broken, but resolute. "Run, Your Highness... run... or else—" His breath hitched, a tremor wracking his body. "Or else everything I’m doing now will be worthless."

"But—"

Florian’s heart cracked wide open, raw and bleeding. His body refused to move, every instinct screaming at him to stay, to fight—to save Levi.

But Levi’s eyes locked onto his, desperate, pleading.

"Run."

Florian clenched his fists, his entire body trembling. He hated this. Hated himself. Hated the crushing helplessness gnawing at his chest.

But Levi was right.

With every ounce of willpower he had left, Florian turned and ran.

The forest blurred around him, branches clawing at his skin as his breath came in frantic bursts. His heart thundered in his ears.

He barely made it five steps when a voice—ragged, furious—cut through the air.

"Hey, prince!"

Florian’s feet skidded to a halt. He turned—and his blood ran cold.

Arthur was bleeding. Shaking. But still standing. His necklace glowed brighter, pulsing with ominous energy.

And then Florian saw it.

"Levi—!"

Levi’s body seized violently. His eyes went wide with agony, his mouth parting in a silent scream.

Branches—

Hundreds of them.

’No, no, no, fuck! No!’

Twisting through his flesh like cruel, jagged spears. Piercing his chest, his stomach, his legs.

Blood—so much blood—spilled onto the earth, staining the ground in thick, glistening pools.

Levi’s body trembled, convulsed, and then—

He went still.

His dull, unseeing eyes stared at Florian.

"NO!"

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