Nightblade (Darkest night)

Chapter 245: Visitors

Merlin’s revelation had been quite shocking to say the least.

He’d spoken of gods and godkillers.

Even now, the words still echoed endlessly within Emily’s mind, refusing to settle.

"Why do you think they exist?" He had asked quietly.

The memory of his silver eyes lingered vividly in her thoughts as his voice continued to replay within her mind.

"While most of the Talented fall under the jurisdiction of the praesagius, there are those who are powerful enough to stand on their own.

Strong enough to dare to stand against the Praesagius.

The phantom projections around them had shifted then, revealing figures cloaked in immense power, each radiating enough pressure to make the surrounding air distort violently.

"The Videntis," Merlin continued, "powerful though they may be, can only do so much."

His expression had darkened slightly.

Lightning crackled softly around him.

"That is why the assassins exist."

His expression softened.

"That’s a part of at least."

Emily remembered the way his voice had turned cold at those words.

It was all quite startling, really.

Merlin had given her some time off to process everything he’d told her, while he’d remained behind to ’meditate.’

******

She was approaching the house when she saw them.

At the very edge of the dome, two figures stood motionless against the endless sea of snow.

A man and a woman.

Despite the intense cold, they seemed right at home in ordinary clothes.

The man wore a long white coat that swirled gently around him in the wind.

He stood with his arms folded across his chest, staring through the isolated space where Merlin’s mansion stood.

The woman beside him was stunningly beautiful, so much so that her own beauty put him to shame.

Long dark hair flowed down her shoulders in silken waves, the strands gradually fading into icy blue at the tips.

She wore a similar long coat, which was draped elegantly around her petite frame.

But the truly enchanting things were her eyes.

Her eyes were a striking blue colour, the colour of the sea. In the pale light, they seemed to shimmer with an almost hypnotic beauty.

Just as Emily decided to approach them.

A voice resounded in her mind.

"Don’t."

Emily froze, staring off into the distance for a while.

"Make your way back into the mansion."

Emily paused, then quietly turned.

A moment later, Victor, the head butler, emerged from the mansion in a pristine gold-trimmed suit.

His posture remained perfectly composed as he descended the steps with measured, graceful steps.

He smiled sweetly, moving past her, then, without the slightest warning, his feet left the ground.

He rose smoothly into the air, levitating effortlessly as though gravity itself had simply loosened its hold on him.

His coat swayed lightly beneath him while he drifted past her toward the edge of the dome.

Outside the dome, Clara Brewer stared at the retreating young woman’s back.

Her ocean-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Other than the girl’s dark hair, there was little resemblance to the main Brewer bloodline. None of the striking features their lineage was famed for had manifested within her—not the eyes, not the aura, not even the overwhelming presence that seemed to naturally accompany most pureblood descendants.

And yet...Clara’s gaze lingered.

For centuries, the Brewers had passed down the innate gift of wielding ice to their descendants.

News of the small altercation between Emily and Merlin had never reached the public. Information of that level was tightly controlled, circulating only among the upper echelons through the vast network of informants the great families had secretly embedded throughout the academy.

Yet despite standing beside Clara now, even Klein seemed unaware of the true reason for their visit.

He remained calmly observant, his gaze fixed upon the distant mansion while the snow drifted endlessly around them.

Only Clara knew what had truly drawn her to this isolated place.

She’d had to see the child for herself in person.

But that was the difficult part.

Reaching the home of one of the oldest Talented still in existence was no simple feat.

In truth, it bordered on the impossible.

And yet...somehow, they had managed it. It had taken the full capability of Clara’s information network—countless informants spread across multiple territories, years of buried records, enormous sums of money, and more than a few dangerous favors owed by powerful individuals to uncover even the faintest trace of where the man resided.

Even then, the information had been incomplete.

All she had managed to dig up had been fragments. Rumours within rumours, lies and questionable truths hidden beneath layers of deliberate misinformation, as though someone had spent centuries erasing every trail leading to the man in question.

But discovering the location had only been the beginning. The journey itself had been quite brutal and bordering on perilous.

The frozen mountain range was less a place and more a natural death zone abandoned by life itself.

And the beasts that guarded it were more of something straight out of a legend.

Luckily enough, both of them were perfectly at home within the frozen environment.

The biting chill that ravaged the mountain range only affected them slightly, and even then, it was little more than a mild discomfort. The icy winds that could freeze flesh solid in minutes merely stirred their coats and hair as they stood calmly amidst the storm.

To ordinary people, this place was a lifeless frozen hell, but to them, it was just another winter day.

Victor slowly descended from the air, coming to a graceful halt before them on the opposite side of the dome. Snow swirled softly around his polished shoes as he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses with a calm, practiced gesture.

Despite the courteous smile resting on his face, there was something unnervingly sharp hidden beneath it.

His eyes darkened slightly,y scrutinizing the duo.

"To what do we owe the pleasure of this intrusion?" he asked smoothly. "You’ll have to forgive us... We weren’t expecting visitors, you see."

The atmosphere around the dome subtly tightened, the air itself seeming to grow heavier as the storm winds howled across the frozen plains.

Victor’s smile did not waver, but something in his gaze shifted in a subtle, almost imperceptible way.

The wind howled across the dome, yet none of it touched him. The same could not be said for Klein or Clara, who both stood with quiet focus, their attention fixed on the mansion beyond the barrier.

For a moment, silence stretched between them.

Then Victor tilted his head slightly.

"...I see," he said at last, voice as smooth as ever.

"So it is not curiosity that brings you here. It is intent."

At that moment, a raw wave of power washed over them, even managing to push them back slightly.

He paused, his eyes boring straight through them.

For a few moments, Clara felt a hint of doubt.

"Is he able to...read my thoughts?"

Her mental strength was nothing to scoff at, formidable even among the other Talented.

It had to be for her to be one of those next in line for leadership of the Brewer family.

Inside the dome, the air trembled faintly around Victor.

The man straightened his posture.

"In that case," he continued, adjusting his glasses once more, "I will inform the master of your presence."

In truth, Merlin had already been aware of their presence when they’d butchered his sentinels.

But rather than dispatch them, he’d decided to stay his hand and play the long game.

A soft breath of wind passed, and the soft ripple swept through the dome, and a vertical rift opened, granting them entrance.

Behind Victor, the mansion doors opened on their own, inviting them in.

"Follow me," Victor said gently, turning without waiting for a response.

The two of them crossed the threshold of the illusory dome, which immediately mended itself.

The moment they stepped inside, the world changed.

The biting cold disappeared instantly, replaced by a warm, still atmosphere that felt almost unreal after the harshness of the mountain.

They walked through long corridors illuminated by soft, floating lights that drifted through the hall with a life of their own.

The architecture was ancient yet impossibly refined, every surface bearing faint traces of runic craftsmanship far beyond modern understanding.

Clara observed everything.

Klein said nothing.

At the end of the corridor, Victor stopped.

He turned slightly, offering them that same calm, unreadable smile.

"The master will see you," he said.

Victor regarded her for a long moment.

Then he nodded once.

"Very well."

He pushed the final doors open.

The chamber beyond was vast.

And at its centre, amidst faint arcs of silver light, stood the man who was nearly a myth in the world of Talented.

He did not turn immediately.

Instead, his voice echoed softly through the space, calm yet carrying an immense, ancient weight.

"So," he said. "You’ve come all this way; that is a truly commendable feat."

He paused, the silence stretching for a few moments.

At last, he looked over his shoulder.

His silver eyes gazed straight through them, peering into their minds.

"Tell me," Merlin continued, "what is it that brings you to my home?"