Single for Eternity
Chapter 68: Maid Gang

Chapter 68: Maid Gang

Grimfall

In a dimly lit chamber, the flickering glow of candles danced upon the stone walls, casting eerie shadows across the gathered figures. A circle of maids sat in silent conspiracy, each one holding a candle stand, their expressions wavering between amusement, anticipation, and guilt.

Bess, the one with a stern ponytail, spoke first, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of uncertainty. "The Young Master has changed again. Do you all think he is an imposter? Because I sure do."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the circle—all except one. Laura, her disfigured features twisted with restrained frustration, remained unmoved by the sentiment. She clenched her fists, her eyes burning with defiance. "You are all morons. The one now is the real one. The previous one was the imposter."

Olie—the demonic maid—rolled her eyes, exhaling as if indulging a child’s tantrum. She lazily waved her hands in dismissal. "Don’t listen to Laura. She loses all sense when the topic concerns the Young Master."

Laura puffed her cheeks, crossed her arms to her chest, her scowl deepening.

Then, with the usual venom in her tone, the well-endowed maid spoke, her hostility palpable. "Can we kill him now?"

The atmosphere tensed. The others sighed, leaning back as if exhausted by the repeated suggestion. Bess pinched the bridge of her nose before shaking her head. "Can you stop with the constant killing requests?"

The well-endowed maid simply rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

Regaining her composure, Bess clapped her hands to regain their attention. "We need to act before he makes the same mistake again. Most likely, we should get rid of this imposter."

The well endowed maid furious head nods immediately garned Bess’s attention. She facepalmed herself. "Not even the way you think."

She pouted, clearly dissapointed.

Olie and the shy maid nodded, their expressions grim. Only Laura scoffed in irritation. She muttered under her breath, "Do what you want, but if Lord Varek gets angry, it won’t be my fault."

With those words, she rose and left the chamber, her steps steady and unbothered.

Olie smirked, watching her go. "She has a thing for Lord Varek, doesn’t she?"

No one replied. The truth of it was undeniable, but none of them were inclined to discuss Laura’s delusions.

A cough from Bess drew their focus back. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Any ideas on how we should handle this situation?"

The shy maid shrank into herself. The well-endowed maid made a strangling gesture.

Olie groaned. "That new imposter guy looks weak, but I won’t recommend outright killing him. It’s too risky. Besides, the real one should return in a few days."

Bess exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "What if he doesn’t return? Or worse, what if it’s already too late?"

Olie rubbed her temple. "You are right Bess. But he did return every other time, so, I guess this won’t be any different."

Bess rolled her eyes in her extreme optimism. ’Didn’t she normal hated that guy?’

Bess had little concern for noble families, especially the Sanguis lineage. Her devotion was to Grimfall itself. If the useful one perished, chaos would spread like wildfire.

After a moment, she made her decision. "We’ll wait. We’ll see what he does—whether he hides in his chamber or roams the town."

The others nodded in agreement. As one, they rose and exited the chamber. The candle flames wavered, then one by one, they extinguished, leaving the room in pitch darkness.

And then, countless eyes snapped open within the darkness which emerged after the lights were gone, glowing with furious hunger, staring into every direction at once.

A human silhouette emerged from the abyss. Slowly, the dark figure shifted and molded itself into Einar’s form. Now accustomed to his borrowed flesh, he propped his chin on his hand and muttered, "I need to do something about the maid gang."

His voice mimicked Einar’s, yet there was something off—something unnatural. His crimson eyes bled into pure black, swallowing the whites and iris alike.

"Another batch of thralls for my collection."

His voice lost any trace of humanity, warping into something ancient, cursed, and corrupted.

Later, dark energy pulsing like as if they had sentience engulfed his body. The next instant, Einar disappeared from there.

...

Southern Wing of Grimfall - A Cobblestone House

The town of Grimfall lay in ragged disrepair, its air thick with decay and quiet dread. Within the most majestic house in the Southern Wing, the flickering lanterns suddenly snuffed out. The oppressive darkness swelled, and from within it, Einar’s figure materialized.

THUD.

A head struck the ground, the sickly sound of flesh meeting stone reverberating through the silence. A thin trail of crimson followed, pooling beneath the collapsed form of a small, fragile girl.

Livia.

Her once-innocent face was now grotesquely marred. Deep gouges lined her cheeks, her fingernails still embedded in her own flesh. Her trembling form was riddled with self-inflicted wounds—flesh torn, nerves exposed, and even the bones beneath scraped raw.

It was a miracle she still breathed, she was more wraith than girl.

Her voice, feeble and ragged, struggled through the blood in her throat. "Pl...eas...e...mas...ter...s...av...e...me..."

Einar’s lips curled into a grin, the malevolent air around him thickening. He extended a hand, his fingers ghosting over her bloodied scalp.

The darkness shuddered and came alive.

It pulsed, swirling toward Livia, consuming her within a writhing, black sphere. The tendrils of shadow pulsed hungrily, devouring every ounce of her former self.

Then, silence.

The sphere collapsed in on itself and vanished, and with it, the last remnants of the girl she had once been.

Light hesitantly returned, illuminating her new form.

Her brown hair and eyes were sharp now, her once-gentle eyes frozen in unwavering stillness. The innocence that had once defined her was gone, replaced with absolute devotion. Her focus no longer wavered, locked solely upon the darkness—upon her Lord.

She dropped to her knees, pressing a hand to her chest in reverence.

"At your service, Master."

Einar’s smile widened. His collection had grown once more.