The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 187: A dead guard.

Chapter 187: A dead guard.

"So offensive!" The nobleman smirked but truly didn’t seem offended, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward the boy’s hair. "Sigaros, what happened to your hair? It’s dark and curly now?"

The young sorcerer ran a hand through his hair, and with a subtle shift, it transformed, his strands becoming pure white, sleek, and straight.

"Chancellor Oka," he said coolly, his voice flat, "instead of worrying about my appearance, tell me, what do you have for me?"

The nobleman leaned back, his grin widening into something sly and unsettling. "I sent the message to Phoria, not you," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

The sorcerer snorted and rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "She’s busy. Your darling Victor is causing enough trouble as it is. Instead of taking that traitor’s head, he slashed her throat in front of a healer half-blood. His name’s Agaraith, the bastard son of the Fae King."

"Daniella is alive?" A fire of rage flickered in the nobleman’s eyes, his words spat out through gritted teeth. "Hell no! That Fae prince is in the castle. He had healed Araben in front of everyone when a serpent shifter poisoned her."

Sigaros nodded, his gaze bright. "That is him. And that little whore you found for us, Daniella told Kaisun Al-Gathiran about the Spike. They stole it from Deagara castle, along with a pure-hearted woman with D’Orient blood in her veins. I want you to find her... and kill her."

The man’s joy turned to fury in an instant. His face twisted with anger as he slammed his fist down onto the table, the force of it making the wood groan under the impact.

"That bitch from Oak Village!" Chancellor Oka’s voice was a low, venomous growl. "I thought she was just after power to claim the land and rebuild it. That whore wasn’t easy to trick. She’s a master liar. How could Victor be so fucking foolish?"

Sigaros shrugged, his expression unreadable. "I guess he truly likes the girl. He might even try to free her."

Chancellor Oka’s face twisted with rage. He seized the glass of wine in his hand and hurled it against the wall, the red liquid splashing across the stone with a violent spray.

"That asshole," he spat, his fury palpable. "I risked my life to save him. How dare he betray me? Why the hell didn’t Lutherieth stop him?"

Sigaros calmly moved closer to the table, his movements deliberate and smooth. He poured some wine into an untouched glass and extended it toward Oka, his tone unbothered. "Calm down. Lutherieth doesn’t care. His Lords are just pawns in his game to revive the Witch Saint."

Oka grabbed the glass with a sharp motion, his knuckles white. "Where is Daniella?"

"In the prison of Alvonia," Sigaros replied without hesitation. He paused, eyeing Oka with cool calculation. "Can you kill her, too?"

"Why should I?" Oka snarled, throwing his hands up in disgust. "Let her rot. No one gives a shit about her."

The young sorcerer’s gaze shifted toward the disheveled bedroom, his eyes momentarily distant as if lost in thought.

"You’re disgusting, were you not married?" Sigaros muttered, his face twisted with revulsion. "Could you not at least keep this place clean? The scent of your sin is suffocating me."

He could barely hide his disdain. Visiting this rat of a man always repulsed him, but this lecherous fool was his only way to manipulate a meeting with the King of Alvonia.

"Tell me about that woman," Oka continued, furious. "Are you talking about Reneira Dorient? She’s the wife of Kaisun Al-Gathiran?"

Sigaros smirked, though there was a dangerous edge to it. "I don’t know. I’m here to ask you to probe ahead. That can’t be your niece’s daughter, can it? Who was she? Araben? She has everything, but not a heart worth mentioning."

The Chancellor didn’t even spare him a glance, his attention fixed elsewhere. "Fine. I’ll kill Reneira. She’s already a threat to Dankin’s rule. I’ll use Araben."

The young wizard’s form shimmered, reverting to the guise of a child once more, his features soft and innocent. "Send me the message once you’re done. I’ll be in Alvonia for a while."

Sigaros turned and left the room with a swift, purposeful stride. As he passed the guard, the man called out, "What the hell were you doing in there?"

Before the guard could move, Sigaros casually tripped the man with a twist of his magic. The bulky figure stumbled, his boots tangling in an unseen knot, and he crashed to the ground. The sickening sound of his jaw hitting the stone steps echoed through the corridor as he crumpled, his body groaning under the weight of his fall and blood gushed out of his mouth and nose.

People screamed and ran to him.

"His neck is broken!" A man shouted at the receptionist.

"What happened?" The Chancellor yelled, coming out of his room.

"He tripped over his feet and his head hit the steps, his neck is broken." Someone explained.

"Tsk, a clumsy guard better be dead." He simply replied.

~*~

The Chancellor returned to the castle, his mind consumed with dark thoughts. Not minding that one of his guards was dead, left in the corridor of the guesthouse with a broken neck. He just casually left his small guesthouse. Without wasting a moment, he summoned one of his spies to the dungeons.

The guard returned swiftly, his expression grim. "Master, the girl was taken away from the prison a few days ago. It seems a shifter was with her."

The Chancellor stood still, his eyes fixed on the coil of his whip, lost in thought. Then, a sly grin curved his lips as he suddenly spun around. "Isn’t that too clever?"

The guard’s head remained bowed. "What?"

The Chancellor’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his massive whip, his grip firm and controlled. In an instant, he lashed it through the air, the crack of it echoing as it struck the guard’s thin neck.

One brutal strike and the guard gasped for air, choking on the force of the blow. But the Chancellor wasn’t done. He whipped again, each lash landing with precision, his rage building. "I said, find her! You say she was taken... You useless shit!"

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