Chapter 24 ESPIONAGE

NARRATIVE POINT OF VIEW

Running away will never be a permanent solution, or so he thought. Lord Baron had his drawstring hanging loose behind him, cradling all of his valuable possessions. Probing his surroundings, he grew more and more anxious. In his pocket, a knife sits. He ought to flee, but before that, he has to do something. He had two choices, admitting that he wasn’t the one in charge of the project and exposing the deceitful man who acted behind him, or flee the town with his command to avoid the consequence that’s about to fall before him.

The morning is about to come, the rays of the sun are peeking in, pushing through the dark gloom of the night. It was surprisingly clear. The fog might’ve made way for the lives lost last night. Finally, he reached it. He eyed the tall gate. He was about to pound it open but was quickly bemused upon seeing it unlocked. He went inside, running across the grass field and into the tall wooden door.

He assailed it with odious pummels, channeling his anger with a loud holler “Claude! You conspicuous pile of crap! Open this door!” his demand was amended when it suddenly bulges, opening by itself he noticed that the latch isn’t even connected. So, he marched right in. Barging through the halls, stomping and yelling for him to come out, yet he didn’t see no one until he came across the dining hall. The very same area he sat on at the banquet had him, The Viscount eyed him with a smirk. He held a goblet half-filled with red wine, sloshing it around as he greeted Lord Baron. “Pleasant morning, My Lord, what brought you here this early?” he asked with a smile so wide it felt off.

Lord Baron stood by the entry, clenching his jaw with rage. “What brought me here?! I am being pursued because of you…” he stepped closer “you intended that to happen… you planned the whole thing!” he couldn’t control his anger. Brushing his hair frantically, he began to trudge around, trying to calm himself down.

“No, my Lord… All I did was simply grant you favor… Didn’t you say it yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

Viscount Claude stood up, still holding the cup. “Didn’t you say you despise poverty? Oh, let me rephrase it…You hate the low born, they share the land, the subsistence and your oxygen.” He leaned closer, hovering over him a few inches apart. “Thus, I had them killed for you”

Lord Baron felt his stomach churn. He stepped away. “I didn’t mean it that way-“ The Viscount's resounding laughter caught him back, it echoed through the halls making him fearful. The usually calm Viscount had let out the most ear-piercing laughter he had ever heard of.

“Haaa…” The Viscount heaved, catching his breath he eyed the Lord. “You’re quite the joker, aren’t you…Baron?” his eyes changed from a mocking stare, he grew cold. “Weren’t you a murderer yourself?..."

"Didn't you kill your brother? In hopes to get at the better side of the Duke since he favored him more than you"

Lord Baron furrowed his brows. His hands quivers as he secretly places it in his pocket. Clutching his knife, he warned him, “So you weren’t helping me out of charity, you just wanted to get recognized by him?” his voice shakes with anger. Any time and he’d pull it out.

“We have the same intentions, didn't we?" he smirked. "You, however, are quite wrong” he gazed behind the Lord's back, eyeing the flustered woman with fondness. He smiled and looked back at him. “I just simply hate greedy bastards like you-”

“-GAH!” The Viscount's words were cut off, blood splattered everywhere as the Lord pierced the Viscount on his neck using a sharp knife. Lord Baron had a smile, his head has been blocked of rationality. All he knows is he wanted the deceitful Viscount dead.

Seeing the Viscount struggling to breathe made him feel ecstatic, he grinned “Now die, you heinous bastard!” He yelled but was quickly brought to a halt. The Viscount still had his eyes wide open. Not a possibility for a human, since he killed his brother the same way.

Little by little, the Viscount's lips curved upwards. Stunned, Lord Baron unconsciously let go of the handle, gaping with unease. “what…” he blurted out as he steps back. The Viscount had a smile. He then started laughing, pulling the knife swiftly and throwing it across the ground, letting the blood flow like a spring river. He held the wound, chuckling like a kid in play. “How cute…” he started off by saying that. He chugged the goblet, downing the wine with hanker and crashing it beneath the floor.

“W-why... Why are y-you n-not- “ he stuttered frightfully.

Viscount Claude laughed. “I’m no ordinary man, my Lord. It’ll take you more than that to have me killed” With growing certitude, the Viscount’s noticeable change unveiled.

Lord Baron turned his back and was about to set off but was blocked by her. Agatha stood by the entry, holding an axe whilst quivering subtly. He grit his teeth, eyeing the two back and forth. “Lord Baron…meet Agatha. My Viscountess” he said as he appeared in front of him in a sudden, clutching his chin in a viscous manner. Lord Baron struggled, but more than that, he was stupefied. Seeing his eyes seemingly glitch, He realized that the man he's facing is not an ordinary man.

“W-what a-re-” he coughed upon feeling his grip getting tighter, “what in the world are you?!” he frantically yelled, using his remaining strength. The Viscount showed his true form. Ogling eyes with a red hue, dark veiny features accentuated with subtle paleness and exquisite fangs able to hone anything with a mere graze.

That night, Lord Baron met his demise. Falling into the hands of the hungry Viscount, his last question was thankfully answered. “W-who are you?”

“I am the last Vatcherun…”