Chapter 11. Fury

21:10 — before Istar’s arrival at Veylara’s estate

“Even so… there’s nothing I can change,” Vargel said, bowing his head, as if carrying the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“You can’t keep your head down forever. It’s time to lift it,” Veylara said, her gaze piercing him through and through, without a hint of doubt.

Vargel exhaled, feeling her words pressing on him like a heavy stone.

“Hm… I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought about it too, and in a way, I’m ready to take such measures,” he said quietly, though it was clear this was not just empty words.

Veylara slowly moved her glass, the light from the crystal playing across her fingers:

“Do you agree?”

“After the Council of Six, we’ll return to this matter,” Vargel replied, trying to hide his tension.

“Indubitably,” she nodded, as if this decision had long been determined by fate.

Suddenly, a soft knocking echoed in the room.

“Yes?” Veylara lifted her gaze, tilting her head slightly, sensing the anticipation of what was to come.

The butler entered quietly:

“Your Highness, a guest has arrived — Lord Istar. He says he was invited.”

“Please, let him in.”

Vargel, who had been watching everything, frowned:

“And why did you invite him?” he asked sharply, tensing his shoulders.

“I want to talk and discuss some mutual matters,” Veylara said with only a smile, though that smile could hide countless intentions.

Vargel felt that his presence was no longer needed:

“Then I won’t get in the way,” he said, standing and leaving the room.

Veylara followed his gaze with satisfaction, feeling as if a small victory had already been achieved.

While Veylara waited for Istar, she savored her wine, pondering the best course of action.

“So that no problems arise later, the decision must be made now. Perhaps I am mistaken in some way, but hesitation is no longer an option,” she thought, weighing every move carefully.

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by Istar:

“Am I disturbing?” His gaze was sharp, his eyes burning.

“No, I was just waiting for you. Come in,” she said, gesturing to the empty chair across from her.

“Thank you,” Istar said as he sat, surveying the room. “So, wine, or is it not for me?”

“Wine eases tension. Tea, of course, will also be served. Do you have a preference?”

“I feel like something biscuity, but not too sweet — I like balance,” Istar smiled.

Veylara nodded to the butler, signaling to bring it.

“How was your day? Anything new? How are your loved ones?” Veylara spoke lightly, almost playfully; her voice sounded as if testing whether he would take her words too seriously.

“All are well… alive,” Istar smiled, though his smile was slightly shaky, as if trying to catch the right rhythm of conversation. “Interesting… we moved to ‘you and I’ so quickly, leaving behind all formalities.”

“We are not strangers… we practically grew up together,” she whispered, not averting her gaze.

Istar frowned, doubting his own thoughts. Is this just a mind game? What are you planning, what exactly do you want from me? he thought.

“Is this… a hint at something? Or am I imagining it?” he murmured, averting his eyes.

“What are you imagining?” Veylara leaned slightly forward, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

“I can’t say it out loud…” Istar gestured toward the ceiling, “we might be overheard.”

Her gaze turned serious, slightly surprised.

“What are you talking about right now?”

“About… our mutual acquaintance,” he said quietly with a smile.

“We have… rather few of them,” Veylara frowned, a hint of doubt in her voice.

“Huh?” Istar watched her reaction. “Your expression tells me you truly don’t understand. So what can be done then?” He leaned closer, and now the space between them was smaller than was comfortable.

Veylara felt her heart suddenly race. His voice was soft, yet each word struck directly into her heart:

“We could… form an alliance. You and I — together. Our shared future.”

Veylara’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t have time to utter a word when suddenly the room was shattered by a loud crash — Vargel lunged at Istar.

Istar skillfully dodged, but the force of the blow sent him sprawling into the corridor, and he slammed onto the floor.

“Damn you! This will never happen!” Vargel roared, burning with fury, his eyes shining with rage.

“What are you doing?!” Veylara froze, shocked by Vargel’s sudden appearance, her voice trembling with alarm.

Vargel ignored her entirely. His steps were mechanical, his gaze fixed solely on Istar. Emotions had taken full control over him.

He drew his blade, and the air around him trembled with an incredible concentration of Heki.

“I will erase your existence, Aldkrain!” he thundered.

His blade radiated such power that everything around began to burn, turning to ash without fire. Silence and fear merged in the air, and the cold light of Heki seared the eyes.

“Oh, so even…” Istar immediately recognized the blade. “Migarági… I thought you were more prudent, Vargels of the Vargreims. Turns out, not.”

Istar straightened, his gaze cold, body tense. He prepared for an offensive maneuver, the air around them saturated with destructive energy.

Veylara stood frozen, unsure what to do. Her heart tightened with fear — his actions were already producing catastrophic consequences.

They plunged into combat.

Vargel moved with his blade, scorching everything around; the air seemed to burn with his Heki. Istar dodged, his movements resembling a deadly dance — agile, graceful, but lethally precise.

“Not bad,” Istar shouted, teasing his opponent for effect. “More emotion!”

The next strike passed so close to Istar’s neck that it left a barely visible mark. He dodged perfectly, as if anticipating his enemy’s moves.

But Vargel immediately struck again — his blade cut through Istar’s arm, severing it.

“Not so talkative now,” Vargel growled, aiming his blade at Istar. They stood amid the ruins of the corridor, nearly everything around them destroyed.

“Wait a moment,” Istar said coldly, stopping the bleeding with one of his abilities. “You know… that was my favorite arm. So many memories… Now I must take revenge? And I know I will take your eyes.”

Vargel gritted his teeth:

“The next strike will leave you headless, chatty son of a—!”

The air around them heated; Heki vibrated, ready to explode at any moment. Every blade movement was a dance with death, each strike a potential catastrophe.

“I’d advise defending yourself,” Istar said coldly, raising his hand and snapping his fingers.

“Teyshéri!”

For a moment, silence reigned. Then a sharp sound tore through the air, and the space around Istar began to condense, forming a radiant, majestic shape.

The air coalesced into a dragon-like creature: undulating wings, hot breath, eyes glowing with the power of Heki.

Istar raised his hand steadily toward Vargel:

“Erase.”

The aerial entity burst forth uncontrollably, slicing through everything in its path at insane speed. Waves of energy destroyed furniture, walls, and debris flew into the air as if the wind tore everything apart.

Vargel tried to defend with Migarági, but Istar’s attack left no chance. Heki passed through the defenses, leaving rubble and cold dust in its wake.

The corridor erupted into chaos. The building shook from the shockwave. Half the estate already lay in ruins, debris flying around.

Amid the dust and wreckage, a silhouette suddenly emerged.

Vargel leapt onto a surviving portion of the estate’s roof, breathing heavily. His face was soaked in blood, slowly running down and dripping onto the hilt of his blade. His fingers gripped it until white.

On the opposite side of the roof stood Istar. Motionless. Calm. His eyes shone with cold light — like icy stones, devoid of anything human.

“Something wrong?” he said with a light smirk. “Didn’t expect Migarági to resist Teyshéri?”

Istar took a slow step forward, showing no hint of disdain.

“You’re thinking: ‘How is this possible?’”

A short pause.

“He can consume anything… right?”

Even if I explained… you still wouldn’t understand.

His voice grew even colder:

“Because the difference between us is not in techniques.”

Vargel straightened, teeth clenched in pain. His arm trembled, but the grip on his blade did not weaken. He swept his hand across his face, wiping away the blood.

“No matter your cunning…” he said quietly but firmly. “I will still sever your head.”

Istar slightly tilted his head:

“Cunning? — a short, dry laugh. — It’s called control.”

He raised his hand.

“Heki control… combined with Hio.”

His gaze swept over Vargel from head to toe.

“Although… your Hio is too weak for you to understand this.”

A pause.

“Ah, right. My apologies.”

A smile — sharp as a blade.

And in that very instant…

“Silence!”

Vargel’s Heki exploded. The space around him — within several meters — instantly disintegrated into ash. The roof began to collapse, stone and wood vanished as if they had never existed.

He raised his blade:

“Palai Atashi!”

The world… vanished. Everything his power touched turned to ash in an instant. The radius of the attack expanded, consuming everything in its path.

Istar stepped back sharply. Barely in time. The wave grazed his arm… flesh vanished instantly, down to the bone. The smell of burned air. A moment of silence.

Istar looked down at his hand. Then… he smiled.

“Looks like I’m at a disadvantage.”

Vargel, despite the damage and pain, stepped forward again. His eyes burned with rage, every muscle tense, the blade gleaming in the moonlight filtering through the dust and smoke.

Istar stood opposite him like a cliff, cold, calm, yet ready for every movement. The air between them seemed heated to its limit — every breath, every motion could be lethal.

Vargel swung his blade fiercely, leaving a trail of scorched air. Istar dodged, springing back, his movements precise and agile, like a dance of death. Each contact of Heki created a wave, tearing the roof and stirring dust into the air.

“You’re not bad,” Istar said quietly, almost playfully. “But I’m even better.”

Vargel moved frantically, attacking from all sides, the blade slicing through air and debris, Heki glowing from the tension.

“The next strike will leave you headless,” he growled.

Istar calmly dodged and, seizing the moment, unleashed his attack — a wave of energy that cut through the roof and pushed Vargel back a step.

Both stood facing each other, breathing heavily, eyes burning with determination. Each was ready to risk everything to win.