Zaliyah raised his hand toward the shattered panes of the high arched windows, the howling northern wind whipping his silver hair across his face. With a subtle flick of his slender fingers, he commanded the snow from the blizzard outside.
He pulled the frozen ambient moisture directly into the chaotic room, instantly transmuting the soft, tumbling white flakes into hundreds of razor-sharp, floating glass shards of ice.
They hovered in the air, a deadly constellation reflecting the light of the establishment.
The cornered noble screamed in terror. Channeling his remaining mana, the man conjured three large fireballs and hurled them forward in a desperate arc, hoping to melt the incoming ice shards attack.
But Zaliyah's ice was not born of ordinary water; it was forged from his elfen core, dense and attuned to a higher tier of elemental mastery.
The flames failed to even scratch the surface of the floating shards. The fire simply washed over them, dying out into wisps of grey smoke.
With a brutal, sweeping wave of Zaliyah's hand, the hundreds of ice shards tore through the air. They bypassed the dying heat of the fire, swarming the noble like a maddened hive of frozen hornets. The razor-sharp shards began to inflict a thousand deep cuts across the man's trembling flesh.
The noble fell to his knees, crying and screaming agonizingly as dark blood sprayed from his arms, legs, and chest, shredding his expensive imported silks into useless, bloody rags.
Zaliyah's expression didn't change in the slightest. He watched the execution unfold with a cold expression.
With one final flick of his pale wrist, the last three ice shards zipped through the air. Two of them pierced the man in his two wide yellow eyes, blinding him instantly, while the final, largest shard buried itself deep into his throat.
The noble clutched his bleeding throat with both hands, his body thrashing on the blood-soaked floor. He tried to speak, tried to scream for mercy or help, but the only sounds escaping his lips were horrific, muffled gurgles. His blood streamed like rivers from his ruptured eyes, staining his face in a horrific gore.
The man pointed one last, trembling, weak finger at Zaliyah, his body shuddering one final time before he fell lifeless onto the floor.
A dark pool of blood expanded rapidly beneath him, soaking into the wood.
Every single noble remaining in the room turned to look at Zaliyah, their faces pale and paralyzed with horror.
The noise of the bustling brothel had vanished, no one dared to utter a word, terrified that the silver-haired demon would turn his frozen wrath upon them next. The room fell into a plunging silence, punctuated only by the drip of blood and the howling wind through the broken window.
Harun quickly sheathed his sword and ran to Zaliyah's side, his eyes scanning his master for any hidden injuries or signs of magical strain. "Your Highness, are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Stop making a fuss," Zaliyah replied indifferently, brushing a stray speck of frost off his red furs.
Suddenly, a small, trembling figure threw himself onto the floor, bowing before Zaliyah's leather boots. The youth's bright, messy hair touched the dark leather of Zaliyah's shoes as he shook with body-racking sobs. Zaliyah stepped back slightly, his eyes looking down at the unusual color.
"Pink...?" Zaliyah muttered under his breath.
It hadn't been long since the manager had told him the boy's name, but Zaliyah had already forgotten it, it was classic Zaliyah.
Harun leaned down slightly, whispering discreetly into his Zaliyah's ear, "Talha, Your Highness."
Talha kept his forehead pressed hard against the blood-stained wood, his voice cracking into desperate sobs as he poured his heart out to his savior. "Thank you! Thank you, my lord! You saved my life! No one has ever... no one has ever stood up for a worthless slave like me! I was going to die today, I knew it... Untill you .....untill you interfered, I remain forever grateful to you My lord"
The sight of the pathetic, weeping boy clutching at his feet like a broken, abandoned animal struck an unpleasant chord within Zaliyah's chest. It reminded him too much of his own dark past. The bitter memory made his stomach turn with a mixture of disgust and pity. He quickly looked away.
"Lift him up, Harun."
Harun reached down, gently grasping the trembling Talha by the shoulders and helping him stand up on his shaking legs.
The boy could barely balance, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and shock.
Before they could even make a move toward the exit of the ruined wing, the madam came bursting back into the room, dramatically wailing at the top of her lungs. She threw herself recklessly at Zaliyah's feet, tearing at her own styled hair in a display of grief.
"Oh, mercy! Mercy, my lord! A murder in my establishment, The property damage alone will ruin me completely , The flipped tables, the broken walls and the windows, the blood on the floors! I am ruined! How will I feed my girls?!"
Zaliyah let out a deeply irritated sigh. He hated unnecessary public attention, and he knew exactly what the scheming woman was playing at. She wasn't grieving the dead noble , she was making a dramatic scene because she greedily wanted money to line her own deep pockets.
Meanwhile, the noblemen watching from the back were left in a state of confusion when they heard the manager address the silver-haired man.
"My lord?" the first man spoke, his eyes blinking in confusion as he stared at Zaliyah's delicate features. "Did she just call him 'my lord?' Is it a man?!"
"It isn't a woman?!" the third man gasped, rubbing his eyes as if he couldn't believe his own sight. "By the void, I will have to tell my wife about this. A beauty like that... to be a man..."
"Then why did his personal guard refer to him as 'Your Highness?'" the second man questioned, his brow furrowing into a frown.
"Didn't the king kill all of his brothers decades ago to secure the throne? Does the King have a secret son hiding here in the snowy North?"
Zaliyah sighed again, the whispered guesses of the crowd becoming worse, more dangerous, and more politically absurd by the second. If these rumors reached the capital ahead of him, it would complicate his carefully laid plans.
He shot a quick look at Harun, and Harun instantly nodded, reaching into his satchel.
With a heavy thud, Harun threw three large bags filled with gold coins directly at the madam's feet. The strings snapped slightly on impact, and the glittering imperial gold coins spilled out across the dark wood, reflecting in the madam's wide brown eyes, making them shine with greed.
"For the damages," Zaliyah spoke,
"Oh, my lord—"
The madam's ecstatic, groveling speech was cut short when Harun threw another three bags of gold coins directly at her feet, the sound echoing loudly in the silent room.
Zaliyah raised a gloved finger, pointing it directly at the trembling, pink-haired youth who stood frozen by Harun's side.
"And those are for the boy."
The madam quickly scooped up the new bags, clutching them tightly to her voluptuous chest like precious, fragile infants. The surrounding noblemen held their breath in silence unable to comprehend the scene of wealth being thrown around so carelessly in a brothel.
However, the madam hesitated for a brief second, her deep-seated greed battling with her business instincts. "But... but my lord... the boy cannot be easily given away like this. Talha is the most sought-after male prostitute in the elite wing... his exclusive contracts bring in regular—"
Zaliyah didn't even wait for the woman to finish her sentence. With a cold, unbothered expression, he gestured slightly to Harun, who casually threw another two sacks of gold coins at her feet. "Still not enough?" Zaliyah asked calmly.
The madam opened her mouth to speak, but before a single word could form, Harun slammed another five bags of gold coins into the growing pile at her feet. The collective breath of every noble in the room stopped.
The amount of wealth resting carelessly on the floor was enough to buy a small, functioning barony in the human realm.
overwhelmed by the mountain of glittering gold, the madam greedily grabbed every single bag she could reach, weeping tears of joy as she began to wail songs of praise at his feet, blessing his lineage up to seven generations. Every ounce of her previous business hesitation had melted away under the weight of the gold.
Zaliyah ignored her worship, turning his cold gaze toward the dazed, pink-haired youth. "You belong to our household now,"
He then turned his cold violet eyes back toward the manager. "If any problems or inquiries arise regarding the dead lord's body, report the matters directly to the High Commander Xulthas."
The noblemen in the room were left speechless, their eyes practically popping out of their skulls as they whispered among themselves, the mention of that terrifying name sending a shiver through the crowd.
"Huh?! The High Commander?!"
"Has the Commander secretly taken in a wife or a male consort without informing the imperial court?"
"Who is this person to command the shadow of the North so casually?"
Zaliyah looked down at his veiled hat, which now lay burnt and ruined on the bloody floor from the noble's fireball, and let out an annoyed sigh.
His rare, quiet tea time had been ruined all because he had temporarily played the savior for a random slave. Now his hard-earned leisure time was gone, and he had to return to the castle where a fat, dramatic child was waiting to torment him for more food.
When they finally stepped outside into the biting winter air, Talha stood frozen on the frost-covered wooden boardwalk, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at the immense, luxury imperial carriage waiting by the snow-packed curb. The carriage was pulled by four massive, black-furred beasts , its exterior reinforced with dark steel and adorned with intricate silver engravings that denoted high nobility. He had spent this past few years trapped in the brothel, and he had never seen something of such grandeur.
His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, his curiosity burning as he tried to figure out who this Zaliyah truly was and what power he held in the northwest territory.
Harun stepped forward, opening the carriage door and helping the stunned boy climb inside. Talha looked a little skeptical, his small body tensing with a sudden wave of fear before getting in, but Harun gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Please get in," Harun said softly, his demeanor different from the harsh warrior he had been moments prior inside the brothel.
Reassured by the Harun's unexpected kindness, the pink-haired youth finally climbed into the warm carriage.
Harun and Talha sat on the velvet seat directly opposite Zaliyah. The carriage jolted forward with a creak, taking off into the snowy, desolate roads that led away from the pleasure district.
The silence inside the carriage was almost suffocating. The only sound was the distant clopping of the beasts' hooves against the packed snow. Talha nervously parted his dry lips, trying to find his voice amidst the overwhelming presence of the man across from him. "My lord... I... I don't know how to properly thank you for—"
Zaliyah didn't let him finish the sentence. He slowly raised his gloved hand, executing a gesture that signaled him to be quiet. The boy immediately shut his mouth, staying mute as he pressed his back hard against the soft velvet seat, terrified of angering Zaliyah.
Zaliyah turned his head away, leaning it lazily against the frost-covered window pane, his violet eyes staring blankly out at the passing, frozen wastelands as he thought about his upcoming journey back to the capital city, the thought of returning back to the palace was slowly eating him from inside.
Opposite him, Talha couldn't stop himself despite the silence. He kept staring at Zaliyah intensely, his wide gaze locked onto the flawless, almost ethereal features of the man. He realized quickly that Zaliyah wasn't just some wealthy, perverted noble looking for a new toy to abuse in the dark, as he had initially feared when the gold was thrown.
There was no lust in those violet eyes—only a profound loneliness accompanied by a feeling of emptiness.
But as he traced the long silver hair, the sharp, elegant jawline, and the terrifying, commanding aura radiating effortlessly from the smaller man, a barrage of questions kept ringing in his head: Is he a hybrid ? Is he royalty? Is he a man or a woman? What kind of beautiful monster did I just bind my life to?
Harun sat silently beside the youth, his eyes tracking the boy's every nervous movement. Noticing the intense, unblinking gaze directed so boldly at his Zaliyah, Harun spoke "Eyes on the floor."
Talha flinched a cold shiver running down his spine. He quickly diverted his gaze down toward the dark, carpeted floor of the carriage, remaining silent as the carriage sped away into the endless ice of the northern night.