Chapter 241: Bait

Rujgard’s proud municipal army corpses didn’t even look like corpses anymore. They looked like a butcher’s joke. Arms stacked like firewood against the walls. Torsos lined in neat, mocking rows. Helmets gathered into a pile at the center like a child’s marble collection. Someone had arranged the severed heads into a crude pyramid.

Vane stood at the edge of it all, hands on his hips, watching the cleaning crew drag the remains toward waiting carts. His spiky hair was even wilder than usual.

Two of the Four Lords were dead in a single night. By two people.

"How many did we lose in total?" Vane muttered, his voice stripped of its showman’s luster.

A nervous functionary consulted a ledger. "Three hundred and eleven municipal enforcers, my lord. Forty-two private hunters. Two Lords. And... the eastern auction district is a total loss. Estimates place the structural damage at—"

"Enough." Vane waved a hand. "If word reaches either nation that Rujgard’s core got gutted by two outsiders, it’s over. The Regulus Empire will send the Inquisition. Valdoria will send warships. And us? We’ll be a footnote. A cautionary tale told to smuggling apprentices."

Beside him, Whisper stood silently. His left arm had finnally regrown.

"Syndicate started pressuring us. The distribution chain to both nations is frozen," Whisper said. "They also want to know why a five-hundred-thousand bounty has produced nothing but a pile of dead Lords."

"Fuck the syndicate," Vane snarled. "Fuck their deadlines, fuck their shipments, fuck their little anonymous couriers who think they can bark orders at the Lord of Death like he’s a delivery boy."

He kicked a stray helmet across the warehouse. It clanged against the far wall and rolled to a stop.

"Where’s the Baron?"

"Under custody."

Vane’s grin cane back. "Good."

He turned from the carnage and started toward the door, and there was something different in his stride now.

Whisper fell into step beside him. "What do we do with him? The contract was to hold him until the syndicate’s courier arrives to collect."

"So let’s execute him," Vane said.

Whisper blinked. "Publicly?"

"Very publicly." Vane’s voice brightened, that unhinged, carnival-barker lilt returning like a tide. "Tomorrow morning. Make an announcement."

"But why? The contract—"

"Fuck the contract." Vane spun on his heel, arms spread wide, the Lord of Death once more. "The fat man is bait. Now the rats knows exactly where he is, and exactly when he dies."

"You want to lure him?"

"I want to lure both of them," Vane corrected, grin widening.

***

The evening rays of the sun filtered through the warped pine shutters, painting the narrow attic chamber in long, dust-mottled shadows.

Alice woke up with a sharp, ragged gasp.

Her hands flew to her sternum on pure reflex. The memory of sword piercing through her spine rushed back with terrifying, vivid clarity.

Yet the hole wasn’t there.

She blinked, looking down at herself. She was wearing a clean, oversized white nightgown. Beneath the dress, thick surgical gauze was wrapped tight around her torso, binding her ribs and shoulder with clinical precision. Her body felt stiff, her divine mana core trickling with barely a drop of light, but the wound itself was completely sealed.

’I’m... alive?’

A rhythmic, metallic clatter echoed from the main room outside, accompanied by the low grunt of strained exertion.

Alice got down of the cot. Her knees wobbled, a sharp twinge flaring along her matted back muscles, but the stubborn Saintess grit kicked in. Gritting her teeth, she pushed off the mattress, braced a hand against the splintered doorframe, and shuffled down the short corridor into the open living area.

In the center of the dusty, sun-streaked hall, Eren was shirtless, drenched in sweat, casually doing one-armed push-ups on the floor.

Shadow Cat cub was Perched on his back. Every time Eren dipped down, the cub dug its tiny claws into his flesh for balance, and every time he pushed back up, Eren let out a dry, irritated breath.

"—eighty-seven... eighty-eight... you’ve gained weight, you freeloading hairball... eighty-nine..."

Alice stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the scarred, absurd spectacle. "Volsver?"

Eren paused at the top of the rep. He tilted his head toward the doorway, his bpuw eyes widening slightly before that familiar, infuriatingly smug smirk split across his face.

"Well, look who decided to wake up," Eren said, rolling his shoulders and dumping the startled cat onto the floor with an indignant hiss. He pushed himself to his feet, casually wiping his brow with the back of his forearm. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Goldy."

Alice didn’t bite at the snark. She stepped forward, her amber eyes wide, her hand unconsciously pressing against the thick bandaging over her heart. The memory of her last moments—kneeling in her own blood, smiling at him, begging him to keep Violet safe—flashed hot against her cheeks.

"I... I was stabbed," Alice murmured, struggling to reconcile her breathing chest with the fatal strike she clearly remembered. "How am I walking? How long was I out?"

"Two days," Eren answered, strolling over to a rough-hewn table to grab a clay jug, pouring himself a cup of water.

"Two days..." Alice repeated, her brows furrowing as she looked around the quiet, secluded shack. "Who helped us? Who dragged us out of that place? Silas and Whisper had us dead to rights."

Eren placed the cup down, puffed out his bare chest, and flashed an insufferably dazzling grin.

"Who helped? Who do you think, Saintess?" Eren scoffed, tapping his own chest with a thumb. "You are looking at the sole, undisputed champion of the Rujgard subterranean circuit. After you decided to take a nap, I got a little annoyed, pulled a miracle out of my back pocket, and handled business byKillingSilas. Bastard Whisper manages to slip through."

Alice’s expression flattened into an immediate, deadpan glare of absolute disbelief. "You? You were pinned to the floor with your hand crushed under Whisper’s boot."

Eren nodded innocently.

Alice stared at him, searching his blue eyes for the lie. He was entirely arrogant, but the sheer lack of hesitation in his voice—paired with the fact that Silas was, in fact, nowhere to be seen—made her skepticism waver.

"You... actually killed the Lord of Contracts?" she whispered, stunned.

"Wiped the floor with him,"

Eren confirmed with a casual shrug. Alice took a slow breath, her mind racing. "Fine. Let’s pretend for five seconds that you somehow managed to kill an underworld lord. How on earth did you carry my comatose body and yourself all the way out here to the upper borders without being torn apart by the municipal patrol? Half the city was hunting us."

"Ah, well, that part," Eren chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he offered a rare, half-true concession, "We got a little help."

"From who?" Alice pressed, stepping closer, her amber eyes burning with sharp suspicion.

"Vice-Principal Carolynn," Eren said smoothly, waving a dismissive hand as if discussing a casual acquaintance.

Alice’s jaw slackened slightly, genuine awe washing over her features. "The Vice-Principal? The fucking demon queen?"

____

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