To His Hell and Back
Chapter 69: Be Right Or Wrong-II

Chapter 69: Be Right Or Wrong-II

Pascal was drenched in sweat, his face pressed against the cold stone floor. Renard’s blade hovered just above his neck, sharp enough to draw blood with the slightest pressure. Yet the human mayor remained silent, lips trembling but refusing to speak.

Renard, unbothered by the resistance, lifted his sword in a swift, practiced arc. Without hesitation, he turned his aim toward the woman kneeling beside Pascal, who clutched a young boy protectively in her arms.

"Wait! Wait—!" Arabella’s voice rang out, her hand shooting forward in desperation.

Renard hesitated for only a breath, his golden eyes flicking toward her, weighing the interruption. A mere five seconds passed as he decided his next move- before his sword continued its downward arc despite her standing in its path.

Instinctively, she crossed her arms before her, bracing for impact—

"Down, Renard."

Cassius’s voice sliced through the air, calm yet absolute.

Renard halted mid swing, his blade frozen inches from flesh. His jaw tightened, but his loyalty was unwavering. He turned his head toward his master, waiting for confirmation.

Cassius didn’t repeat himself often. But when he did, it was not to be questioned.

"Down."

With a curt nod, Renard stepped back, lowering his sword but not sheathing it. Arabella released a shaky breath, only to feel it catch again when Cassius turned his gaze on her.

His crimson eyes were unreadable, but there was no amusement in them. No indulgent smirk. Only quiet displeasure.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

His voice was not sharp, not scolding. But there was something in his tone, something colder than before. Something about him today was colder than the other night as if to show her the boundaries between them, their different rank, and his unchanging decision.

Something that reminded her exactly who he was.

A prince. A ruler.

And she? She was a mere guest in his world.

She swallowed, standing her ground despite the weight of his gaze. "You were about to execute a child." The words left her in careful pauses, as if she were still processing them herself.

Cassius arched a brow, unimpressed. "Oh? My apologies. I was going to execute the mother." He turned his head slightly, crimson eyes flickering back to Pascal. "But if you insist, the child can die as well. For all I know, they both deserve it."

Arabella’s breath hitched. "You don’t know that. You could— could at least talk to them. Find out the truth."

Cassius exhaled a quiet laugh, void of humor. "Hah."

He unfolded his arms and strode forward in measured steps before grabbing Pascal by the collar. With little effort, he flung the man to the ground like a discarded rag. Pascal barely had time to gasp before Cassius’s boot drove into his ribs, once, twice, knocking the air from his lungs.

"Speak."

Pascal curled inward, clutching his sides, but remained silent.

Cassius clicked his tongue. "I don’t mind being a devil, but I do hate watching someone so naïve get led by the nose." His gaze flickered to Arabella, just for a moment, just enough to make her feel it, before turning back to the trembling man.

"Speak."

A second passed. Then another. The sound of a body being hit wasn’t so fun to listen and each of Pascal’s silence only further cause Bella’s heart to go awry even though she wasn’t the one lying or hiding a secret.

Then—

"We did— We did it!"

Pascal’s broken voice shattered the silence. He choked on his words, eyes darting frantically between his son and the gathered townsfolk, who had turned pallid with horror.

Arabella felt the floor drop beneath her.

She had almost sided with the wrong people.

She turned to Cassius, but he didn’t look at her. He hadn’t spared her a glance since the moment Pascal confessed.

He was different tonight, colder than before, as if deliberately distancing himself. She wondered if it was because of her. Because she had stepped in without knowing the full truth.

She had acted on instinct, on emotion which was wrong for her. Was there anyone in the world who wouldn’t despise being painted as the villain? Unconsciously, she had sympathized with the humans simply because they were weaker, forgetting that weakness did not equate to innocence. The weaker creatures tend to crush those even weaker than them and the thought made her so foolish.

She clenched her fists, cursing her own naivety.

Her hand rose, ready to strike herself in frustration, only to be stopped mid motion as Cassius had caught her wrist.

Startled, she turned to him, finding those crimson eyes locked onto her, still unreadable.

For a fleeting second, she thought he might say something. That he might break his silence, might offer something, anything, to fill the growing space between them.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned back to Pascal, his grasp on her wrist loosening before falling away completely.

With slow deliberation, Cassius pressed his boot against Pascal’s back once more, pinning him down as he spoke.

"Let’s start from the top, shall we?"

His voice was calm, almost lazy, yet it coiled around the air like a tightening noose. "This isn’t the first time you’ve welcomed vampires into this town, is it?"

Pascal’s body went rigid.

Cassius hummed, as if amused by his reaction."The guards at the gate—they’re lazy, yes, but not fools. If they had truly seen me as an anomaly, as a threat, they would have been far more wary. And yet, they barely batted an eye." He leaned forward, pressing his boot down just enough to make Pascal shudder. "Which means they were already trained to look the other way. To let vampires in without question."

His lips curled, though there was no warmth in it.

"Tell me, Pascal— who gave them that order?"

A shudder ran through the crowd.

Pascal’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

Cassius sighed, stepping back before dusting off his gloves. "No need. I already know the answer." His gaze flickered toward the gathered townspeople, lingering on their downcast faces. "It was you, wasn’t it? You told them to let vampires through, knowing they wouldn’t leave."

He tilted his head, tone light but merciless. "How many vampires have you sent to their deaths? How many walked through those gates believing they would find a safe retreat, only to be slaughtered?"

Arabella turned sharply, scanning the faces of the town. Guilt was written across them.

Her stomach churned.

"You colluded with the sorceress."

It wasn’t a question. They have all gone with the sorceress order, for what? To kill them? The hatred Agnes had shown last night rang in her head and only now did she realize that the woman had asked her the question because of all of them were unhappy with vampires, all of them wanted to do everything in their bones so they could get rid of the vampires.

Cassius nodded as if she had finally caught up. "For an experiment, correct?"

The moment his gaze landed on a single figure, Agnes, the innkeeper, the woman paled.

Cassius didn’t need confirmation. The way she shrank into herself was enough.

His voice dropped, quieter now. "You believe vampires deserve it, don’t you? That they’re less than human."

No one answered.

They didn’t need to.

The silence spoke for them.

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