Thalassa could already feel the impact coming. She closed her eyes, hoping her sacrifice would at least buy them a little time. However, the blow never came.
The attack, which seemed powerful enough to demolish several buildings, vanished completely before it could even touch her.
The eighth-circle mages looked on in confusion, while the shadows sighed in relief at the sight of their master's arrival—though an instant later, a flicker of fear bloomed in their chests.
The calm with which Cassian appeared, combined with that unreadable gaze, sent a chill down their spines.
The mermaid opened her eyes and, upon seeing him, collapsed to the ground as she tried to recover from the fight, knowing it was all over.
Cassian took a step forward to make his presence known. The two attackers finally understood who had just dispelled their magic.
Surprise flooded their faces: it was someone they had thoroughly investigated—one of their primary targets.
Feeling the situation slipping out of their control, both of them began to flee, needing to rethink everything they thought they knew.
Cassian watched them as they ran away. He didn't move; he simply let them go. Thalassa frowned at his passivity but didn't dare ask.
He walked over to Margery as his eyes darkened even further. He took his sister's hand and assessed her condition. After letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing they were safe, he turned his gaze to Thalassa.
"Go with Elizabeth so she can help you with those wounds. We'll talk later."
He didn't give her any more attention. The fact that he was sending her to Elizabeth already said enough; although he still didn't fully trust her, at least he was no longer treating her with the same coldness as before.
He took Margery and Cassane with him and teleported back to his room.
There, a visibly worried Adela was waiting for him.
"Master…" she began, but couldn't continue.
"Stop," Cassian cut her off, his voice hard and icy. "I don't want explanations. I know you understand what you have to do. The person who wasn't at their post today, and even the two who were present but still allowed my sister to get hurt…"
Adela lowered her head, her eyes turning somber as she thought about the people who had caused their master to scold her.
Her hands clenched into fists and she began biting her lips so hard that she drew blood.
"Master…" she said again, "what happened with the people who attacked them?" She glanced at Cassane and Margery.
Cassian didn't answer. He knew perfectly well where those people were right now.
…
In a room at the Academy.
"Silas, wasn't that kid supposed to be useless?" asked his companion, still shaken from their escape.
Silas lowered his head, reliving what had happened in that alley.
"He was supposed to be. I don't understand how he managed to stop our Circle Collision," he said in disbelief.
"It looks like we chose the wrong target. But if that guy is really that strong…"
They looked at each other at the same time, sharing a silent fear: what would happen if that person ever decided to return to his empire of origin and that woman found out.
At that moment, a young noble entered the room.
"Silas, Jareth, is it done?" he asked impatiently.
The two jumped at the sight of the young man, who was accompanied by another boy around the same age.
"Young master, I think we need to abort the mission… It would be better if…"
But he couldn't finish the sentence. Everyone in the room froze, unable to move a single muscle. In the center of the room, a figure appeared: it was Cassian, wrapped in an eerie calm and terrifying elegance.
He sat down in an armchair and, with an almost imperceptible gesture, dragged the frozen figures forward, forcing them to stand before him. He observed them like someone deciding which toy to play with first.
"Pradiles, huh?" Cassian said, as if piecing together a puzzle. "I hate using memory reading; it won't be pleasant for either of us. So… why don't you start talking?"
Terror crawled up their spines; they felt as if thousands of needles were attacking them from within, and Cassian's words only added fuel to the fire.
Boom!
They fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
Only then did they realize they hadn't been breathing.
Kneeling and gasping for air, they looked up at him in dread. The young man who had been following the "young master" tried to say something, but before he could make a sound, his head rolled across the floor.
"Forgive me," Cassian said coldly. "My mood is quite delicate right now. But please, speak."
Seeing their friend's head on the ground without having even perceived what had caused it, the young master wet himself, trembling uncontrollably.
Cassian, upon seeing that, made a face of disgust and turned his gaze to the other two. For them, he had a special ending prepared; he wasn't going to let it end so easily. The taller one, Silas, began to speak with a trembling voice:
"What do we gain if we tell you something?"
"A quieter death, like his," Cassian replied, nodding toward the head on the floor.
Silas swallowed hard and tried to speak again, but realized no voice would come out. Jareth then intervened:
"Aren't you afraid of starting a war between empires? Technically, we're guests here."
"Hmm… there are many ways to make someone's death look like an accident. Besides, I don't think you're understanding something: if this matter really escalates, I wouldn't care. The people behind you can't actually touch me."
"You should ask your father why we did it," Jareth suddenly blurted out.
Cassian frowned at the mention of Alexandro.
"The Count?" he asked, surprised.
"Yes. He should know why the people from Pradiles want your sister's head. I won't say more than that. If I'm going to die anyway, I'm not selling out my master."
"I see…" Cassian murmured under his breath. "If that's the case, then our conversation ends here."
In that same instant, the three figures vanished from in front of him.
His eyes darkened, knowing perfectly well to what dark and eternal place he had sent them. Although it wasn't enough to quench his fury, it at least gave him a brief moment of relief from his anger.
He remained alone in the room, the silence broken only by the echo of Jareth's words.
Moments later, his figure faded into the air without leaving a trace.
—Click!—
The sound of the doorknob turning and the door opening broke the quiet of the place.
A figure peeked through the threshold. Morgana Valois had been chatting about business with the "Young Master" just moments before. When he had stepped out for a moment, she had waited for his return, never imagining she would end up overhearing something she most likely shouldn't have.
"Cassian Varkas…" she whispered under her breath.
Her cunning mind, always accustomed to control, filled with a deep fear of the unknown. She had just witnessed a power that could disregard any fortune, influence, or cunning she possessed.