Darius couldn't sit still. He kept pacing back and forth across his room, his boots dragging on the floor, his breathing uneven. Every few seconds he would look at the door, hoping it would open. But it didn't. He rubbed his hands together, whispering under his breath like someone praying, "They can't lose… they just can't."
He stopped for a second and stared at the floor. The thought of Kaiden being alive after what he planned was too much. "There's no way," he muttered, shaking his head. "There's no way he could defend himself against four people. Not a chance."
Knock knock!
The sound nearly made him jump. His heart skipped for a second, then he turned quickly. "Is that you, Cedric?"
"Yes, my lord!"
"Come in."
The door opened slowly, and Sir Cedric stepped inside. He didn't speak right away. He looked around the hallway first to make sure no one was listening, then quietly shut the door behind him.
Darius's eyes were already fixed on him. "So?" he asked quickly, his tone sharp. "Some good news, I hope?"
Sir Cedric didn't speak right away. His jaw was tight, and there was something in his eyes that made Darius uneasy. Finally, he shook his head slowly.
"They failed to kill him."
For a moment, the whole room went quiet. You could almost hear the candle flame flickering near the wall. Darius blinked once, then twice, like he didn't hear it right. "What?" he said, his voice low.
"They failed," Cedric repeated quietly.
Darius stared at him in disbelief. "That's impossible. You're telling me four grown assassins couldn't kill one man? One teenage boy? That doesn't make any sense unless…" He stopped mid-sentence as his brain tried to find an excuse. His eyes narrowed. "Unless he had help. Did he? Someone protecting him?"
Cedric shook his head. "I am afraid he had no help."
The room felt colder suddenly. Darius looked at the floor for a long moment, rubbing his temple. "He escaped then," he said under his breath. "That's it. He ran. I should've known better than to hire low-level idiots. I should have gotten real assassins, not cheap drunk swordsmen."
Cedric swallowed hard. "Sir…"
"What?" Darius snapped, still pacing.
"He didn't run," Cedric said quietly.
Darius stopped moving. He turned slowly to face him. "What do you mean?"
"He fought."
For a few seconds, Darius just stood there, completely still. He didn't even blink. Then, like someone had told him the funniest joke in the world, he started laughing. It began low and then grew louder. "Ahahahahaha! Oh come on, Cedric. You almost had me there. That's a good one. He fought, huh? I get it now. You've already killed him and you're trying to play some sort of joke to mess with me."
He waited for Cedric to laugh with him, but Cedric didn't. His face stayed grave, serious, heavy. His eyes didn't move away from Darius even once.
The laughter started to die out slowly. Darius's smile faded as the silence in the room grew longer. "You're not joking," he said quietly.
Cedric shook his head.
Darius took a step back, his mind spinning. He could feel his heartbeat echo in his chest. He looked down at his hands like he didn't recognize them. "He… he really fought?" he asked in a whisper.
Cedric nodded. "He not only fought…" he said, pausing before finishing the sentence. His tone was almost respectful, but heavy with disbelief. "He won."
The candle flickered again, almost like it was reacting to those words.
Darius stood frozen. His mouth opened but no sound came out. For the second time, he felt something he hadn't felt in years — fear.