Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 363: The True Monster

Chapter 363: The True Monster

"King Atticus, I have to―"

"Go, you’re unneeded here," Atticus ordered, and Leonora was so relieved that Atticus allowed her to go that she didn’t even take offense to his patronizing comment, nor at the fact that he basically ordered her around like she was his subject. She merely nodded and vaulted herself back on the horse, making a mad dash straight for the palace.

Atticus frowned. He wanted the horse for the return trip back to the palace, but then he supposed he didn’t need it as much as Leonora did. If Leonora thought he was going to stay behind and handle the infected, she wasn’t as smart as Atticus thought her to be. Then again, Atticus couldn’t fault her for her lapse in judgment in such extenuating circumstances.

"What happened to Prince Silas?" Atticus asked the maid. "Did he die?"

"No, Your Highness. He went on a rampage in the infirmary!" the maid exclaimed. "Princess― Queen Daphne told me to call for Princess Leonara to handle it."

Atticus sighed. His wife should have called for him instead. But she probably didn’t want to bother him and thought he had his hands full with searching for Alistair.

"What happened to Daphne?" Atticus demanded.

"I don’t know, Your Highness." The maid bowed low in apology. "She entered the infirmary with the kelpie and the griffin."

"Fuck," Atticus cursed. Why didn’t his wife just hide in a corner and let someone else handle this trouble for a change? The palace was huge!

Even if she didn’t enter the infirmary alone, he doubted that the three of them could do much damage against a transformed Silas. His wife had temporarily lost her magical abilities, while Nereus was weakened due to his missing eye.

Hopefully, Zephyr would have some sense to grab Daphne and take flight. None of the infected could fly; the skies were the safest place for Daphne to reside in now, or at least until he returned and destroyed Silas for good.

His ring flashed, ready to propel himself back to the palace. But just as he prepared to take flight, another wave of infected individuals began to rush towards his direction, their thirst for blood rising with the new addition of the maid. The poor maid fell to her knees, horrified to the point of tears.

Atticus sighed again and waved a hand. Another controlled blast of magic, and they were nothing more than headless corpses writhing on the floor.

"Come on, get off the floor and find somewhere to hide," Atticus instructed. "I’m not going to protect you."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" The poor maid frantically got to her feet. To her surprise, King Atticus had vanished in that short time. She began to panic, quickly looking for her protector. "Your Majesty, where are you― Oh!"

Her breath caught in her throat. It turned out that King Atticus was floating over the masses of dead citizens. Without any delay, King Atticus raised his hands and took flight straight for the palace. Her mouth fell open; he was even faster than Princess Leonora on horseback! How was this possible?

And then she was alone. The poor maid panicked and immediately picked up her skirts, chasing after his shadow. She didn’t want to die alone!

"Your Majesty, wait for me!"

***

The makeshift lab was in flames. After Sirona had thrown the fiery mixture directly at Silas’s face, causing him to let out a pained shriek as his skin began to burn with red hot fire.

If Silas had retained more of his intelligence, he would know how to douse it easily, but in this current state, all he did was flail around the room, causing the fire to catch on the other flammable substances in the room.

Daphne watched in despair as curtain fabric, parchment notes, and even the wooden tables began to burn. She tried to stop the spread, but with her weakened state, the flames devoured all they touched without heeding her will. Instead, Daphne now found herself weakened, tired, and breathing in copious amounts of smoke.

"Fuck." Sirona quickly pulled Daphne so they were plastered against the wall, using her long sleeves to cover her nose and mouth. "If the fire reaches the chairs, it’s over for us."

"We’ll have to shift the chairs and run out," Daphne said determinedly. Her preferred exit route was the window, but the fire had traveled up the curtains, engulfing their escape route in a fiery embrace.

Not to mention they would have to risk getting past Silas.

Sirona nodded, and they began to get to work. Daphne’s arms burned with exertion, and coughs wracked her figure as smoke entered her lungs, scalding her throat.

Silas continued to scream. Daphne quickly glanced at him and gasped― the fire on his body and face was gone, and his skin was healing itself, the peeling, reddish burns giving way to fresh skin. His nails were longer than before, but what caught Daphne’s attention were his eyes.

They were wide with pain, and it almost looked like Silas was in tears. It was pitiful.

Silas froze, his glassy eyes catching her stare.

"You hurt me! How dare you! You’re the real monster here!"

He lunged in her direction, but Daphne flung her own pot of Sirona’s mysterious fire mixture at his feet, causing him to jump back as flames spread around, creating a makeshift barrier between them. She mentally apologized to Silas; being burnt to death was a terrible way to die, but the alternative was unthinkable.

Meanwhile, Sirona finally dislodged the last stubborn chair, throwing it back to feed the flames. Finally, the door opened, and Sirona and Daphne spilled out and slumped onto the floor as they took huge gulps of air. Smoke wafted from the room, and Daphne could feel the heat of the flames even from such a distance.

Sirona shoved the doors shut and they both lay there, trying to catch their breaths.

"Can you stand?" Sirona asked.

"Barely," Daphne replied weakly, but just when they were about to flee the corridor, they heard a terrified scream from inside the room.

Strangely enough, it sounded very much like Silas was getting tortured inside.