Chapter Text
Ron was running. There was fire everywhere, and blood even more. Every room, every tile on the floor, it was covered in crimson red. Whether it was from his own people or the enemy— Ron didn’t know.
Swish!
A sword came out of nowhere as Ron dodged it. He didn’t let the culprit of the sword understand what just happened before he stabbed them in the neck.
“Ugh…!”
The body fell to the floor, but he couldn’t sit still. The cracking of fire lit up the entire room, but he kept going.
“Ron! Ron!”
A familiar voice reached his ears, and Ron slid to a stop when he saw Melbond running at him.
“Melbond.” He spoke sternly, not being able to hide his stressed voice when Melbond finally reached him.
“Ron. The children. They’re dead.“
“Fuck.”
They were too late. The enemy had already found where the Molan children were hiding, which would also mean Irene was also dead. An anger boiled inside of Ron at the thought, but he felt hopeless at the same time.
“Ron. We need to go. You have to find Beacrox.” His friend pulled at his arm and they were running again. In a situation like this, Ron couldn’t let his emotions show, something he was taught from birth when he learned how to be an assassin.
Assassins. The most powerful household controlling the underground, but in the face of this enemy, Ron felt powerless. From the moment the alarms rang, everything went to shit. Masked people began to break in and destroyed anything and anyone they came across.
So many died. So many were still dying and probably would die. Ron isn’t sure how many of the enemies there are. He would like to rip them apart, snap their heads, burn them alive. He wanted to torture every single one of them for even having the thought of attacking the Molan household.
But he couldn’t do that now.
‘Beacrox.’
His son. He needed to find him. No one has seen him. Ron has also not gotten any news of his death, so it could only mean there’s a possibility he’s alive, and Ron would hang onto that thread until he sees proof of it.
Bang!
Melbond slammed the door open and ran out to the hallway but stopped in his tracks. Ron was only a second after him, but also tensed up once they got out of the room. Just a few meters away from them stood a group of men. They were all clothed in black, just like the enemies, and began to move towards them the moment they saw them.
“Shit!”
The enemy drew their swords and attacked. There were probably around 15 of them. Ron and Melbond were outnumbered.
Clang!
A spear flew at them, and Ron was barely able to evade it. Dread dawned upon him. They wouldn’t be able to defeat them.
“Ron. You need to go.”
“Melbond.”
“No! Listen to me. Beacrox is still— ugh —out there. He needs you!”
“Melbond.”
“I’ll hold them back. So, go.”
Ron hesitated. Melbond, his friend who he grew up with like a brother, someone who learned the techniques of being an assassin alongside him, wanted him to leave. But if Ron left, he would be no match for the enemy. Not when he was alone. Not against 15 skilled intruders—
“Go, Ron!”
The scream that tore itself out of Melbond’s throat causes Ron to make up his mind. With a tearing heart, he turned around and ran, ran down the hall, ran away from his friend, giving him a death sentence on the spot.
Ron could only hope he would be able to meet him again once everything was over.
The loud noise behind him became distant, but it would never be truly quiet. Sounds of weapons clashing together, or a part of the building collapsing under the fire was always near. Ron learned to focus on his task ahead and listen for the cries of children again.
Beacrox is 12 years old. His son was incredibly skilled for his age, but too young to experience this. The chances of him already being dead were high. If only he managed to hide….
The hallway ended, and Ron found himself in the open area with twin stairs on both sides of the room, leading down to the lower floor. Nothing but blood and fire as far as the eye could see, so he went along the sides of the second floor, and eyed a door to the side. It would lead to a library with multiple hiding spots. He hoped he would be able to find Beacrox alive and unharmed—
Bang!
Ron’s head snapped his head to the noise of a door slamming open, and felt his breath get caught in his throat.
Two figures, one taller and one shorter, were sprinting out of one of the rooms on the first floor, right below Ron.
The taller one, a man with red hair who he couldn’t recognize, he was dragging a boy behind him by the wrist. The boy—
‘Beacrox.’
Without letting a single second slow him down, Ron jumped over the fence with a menacing look on his face. The wind blew around him, but his mind was only focused on one thing.
Kill the enemy.
Thud!
“Argh!”
Ron landed right on top of the man, making him fall to the ground with a loud groan. The assassin pressed his whole body weight down on him, rendering his resistance useless.
“Gah!”
A hand harshly grabbed at the flinching red-haired man’s neck, and Ron raised the dagger in his hand to stab into the side of the throat—
“Dad! No!”
The dagger stopped right before it touched the pale skin with a flinch.
“Ugh. Ugh.”
The patriarch ignored the groans below him as he slowly turned his head to the side, not letting go of the neck he had a firm grip on. There stood his son, his Beacrox, with only small specs of blood and burned fabric on him. He had a distressed— no, terrified look on his face.
He was okay. His son was okay. The realization hit him harder than he thought, and Ron’s shoulders slightly sagged with relief.
“Dad! Don’t kill him! He helped me!”
The desperate plea reached his ears, and he looked back at the trembling man underneath him. On closer inspection, Ron understood.
He still wasn’t anyone he recognized, which caused him to keep up his guard, but the man wasn’t dressed like the other terrorists. He didn’t have the star symbol on his clothes, or a mask covering his face.
‘A third party?’
After contemplating for a short moment, he decided to get off the man and took a step back, but didn’t offer any help in getting up. He didn’t have time to postpone his decision and instead pushed Beacrox behind his back, holding his son’s hand in a secure grip.
“Ha….” The man huffed out a ragged breath from his position on the floor before slowly standing up on shaky legs. Still, he turns to look at the father and son instead of running away, even if he had just been attacked.
Now that Ron gets a closer look on him, he also took notice of his features. Silky red hair that ended by his shoulders, reddish-brown eyes that seemed like a calm sea in the middle of the chaos, and undoubtedly expensive clothes fitted for a noble. But despite the fancy outfit, blood soaked his clothes like a bleeding wound, yet, the man didn’t seem to be in pain.
He looked young. Both his face and overall build gave Ron the impression of a weak young man, but why was he here? Did he come with the other attackers or is he truly from a third party? And if that’s the case, is he alone?
“Patriarch.”
The boy, who looked at him with deep reddish-brown eyes, called out to him. He knew who he was.
“Your wife.”
Ron’s face darkened as the latter mentioned his wife. He currently knew nothing of the situation. People were dead, and so were the children, but that was it. A part of him was relieved to have found his son, who couldn’t yet fight for himself. However, Millicent was still out there. She could fight like no other, and Ron didn’t doubt her abilities in the slightest. She was his wife, after all. The beautiful, strong, and terrifying mother of Beacrox, but with so many deaths around them…..
He couldn’t help but worry.
“We don’t have much time.”
The words from the young man were unexpected. He hasn't told them anything of why he’s there or who he is. Instead, he focused on a goal, on business, on a priority. Ron felt slightly surprised at the sudden shift. This man wanted to help them.
Even if he felt suspicious of him, and he might be leading them into a trap, Beacrox seemed to trust him from the small moment he observed them.
Either way, he had to make a decision, because the man turned around and began to run towards a very specific door.
In the end, Ron ran after him. Right now, he might be his best shot at finding his wife, no matter how odd the situation was.
They ran through multiple rooms that were oddly empty. All the while, Ron didn’t let go of his son’s hand even once, and Beacrox seemed set on keeping up with a determined look on his face. A eternity passed as they went through door after door, and Ron felt like there were too many rooms in his mansion than he could remember. Perhaps it was the destruction and fire that made them unrecognizable.
Eventually, the sound of metal clashing against each other began to get louder, the same with the screams. In the distance, Ron could see the entrance to the mansion, or at least what should have been the entrance. It had been blown into debris as fiery flames closed off almost any escape.
Still, as they neared the fight taking place outside, Ron felt his breathing pick up, a hidden desperation, a plea.
“Millicent!” He barely hears himself over the screaming, but the woman in front of him, bloody and concentrating on getting rid of the enemy, falters and turns around. A grave mistake for an assassin in the middle of the battle, but her shocked eyes tell it all.
“Millicent!” He roars again, this time in anger, but she doesn’t move. An arrow flies at her. It doesn’t reach her.
Clang!
A dagger skillfully reflects the attack, and Ron can make out the silhouette of a man behind her, but he doesn’t have time to focus on him, because Ron finally reaches his wife…
“Ha….!” Millicent wrapped her arms around both Ron and Beacrox who hugs her back equally hard. Even though they inwardly wanted to relish in the short reunion, they couldn’t.
“Ron!” The man from before called out to him in a hurry with his back to him, keeping an eye on the enemy.
“Leroy,” Ron realized. His cousin was alive. “What happened?”
“Intruders. We don’t know who they are but they killed Sonya and Henry.” Millicent answers for him instead, taking a stance with her greatsword in hand again.
Ron took a moment to observe the area and noticed with dread how there was no way out. On every side, the attackers surrounded them. There were too many of them, and Ron wonders how they were still alive.
However, from the looks of it, most of them are standing still. Weapons in hand, but only a few of them attacked from time to time. Almost as if they were trying to push them back and make them surrender.
Ron huffed with a glare, squeezing his son’s hand and tightening his grip on his dagger.
‘Surrender my ass.’
He would do anything to survive, to get his son, wife, and cousin out of here in one piece, because at this point, they were probably the only family he had left.
Red caught his eye as a figure took a step forward. It was the red-haired man who had led them here, and Ron watched him with a hawk eye. Both Millicent and Leroy took notice of him, but didn’t attack since Ron didn’t seem to be hostile towards him, but it was still questionable.
“Ron.” Leroy said after blocking another attack. “Who’s this?”
He didn’t answer, only focused on keeping his son safe and keeping the enemy away. Fire still cracked around them, and clear bloodlust radiated off of his wife.
“Haa… Dorph, you bastard.”
A low mumble reached his ears. Ron turned to see the red-haired man look forward with his own glare. There was a different look in his eyes that Ron hadn’t noticed earlier, and suddenly, the young man didn’t look very young anymore.
A name, he had heard.
‘Does he know who they are?’
An urge to grab the red-haired man by the throat and demand answers pulled at him, but he couldn’t. Not right now. Not when he appeared to be an ally.
“Ah? You again?” One of the intruders spoke in the middle of the chaos. His face was fully covered, but anyone could see the leadership he held over the group. “What a nuisance.”
At the moment those words left his mouth, a light shone in his hands. It was a bright light, something that shouldn’t feel as threatening as it did, but an impending pressure pushed on Ron and every single one of his senses screamed danger.
“Fuck!”
Leroy shouted with urgency when he realized why the other attackers began to fall back.
“Fuck! That’s gonna kill us!”
“Ron!” His wife yelled at that moment, a stern and tense look on her face. “Run! Run with Beacrox, now!”
“What?!” His tone was also filled with anger and panic. “You think I’m going to leave you?!”
“Ron!” A hand harshly pulled him away from her. “Please! Listen to her!”
“You don’t have a choice, Ron!” Millicent pushed at him. She had never ordered him to do anything, but this time, the worst time, she stood firm. “I’m telling you to run with our son, and you will do it!”
The light got brighter the same time Ron’s heart began to beat louder. He felt his heart tear into two once more.
“Millicent!”
“Go! Run, now!”
“Millicent—!”
BOOM!!!
Before he could finish calling his wife’s name again, the attack launched. Everything turned white with a blinding light, Ron’s ears were ringing, and he could barely feel the small body against his own. Subconsciously, he reached down to hug his son, shielding him from the impact.
When he came to, it was deadly silent. Only the wind pushing away the dust could be heard, and Ron blinked his eyes to regain his sight.
A cracking sound, and what looked like pieces of broken glass flew around the air. He looked forward to see the red-haired man in front of him. Both of his hands were reaching into the air. They were shaking.
Barely aware, Ron realizes he’s alive. And that Beacrox is alive.
He looks around to find his wife in the same place as before, frozen. So, Ron also looked back to where she was looking, and this time noticed something past the red-haired man.
In front of him, like a perfectly drawn line of a crescent, the ground was destroyed. Like a magic shield had protected them from a bomb, the area inside the circle was fine, they were okay, but the ground outside of the circle had crumbled.
Ron breathed heavily, still holding Beacrox in a tight grip. That could have been them. They could have died—
“Let’s go!”
The voice of the young man snapped him out of his daze. Red hair began to flow with the wind again, and Ron regained strength in his legs.
The enemy had fallen, or at least accidentally created an opening for them. The red-haired boy was right, they needed to move.
Ron reached for Millicent’s hand and dragged her alongside Beacrox to the opening, following behind the man leading them. His wife became aware of the situation and quickly moved to keep up. Leroy was close behind.
“Hey!”
“Ugh! Stop them!”
Shouts from behind only caused them to hurry up, and the small group of five survivors ran into the deep forest, regrettably leaving the burning estate behind.
Unlike before, the woods were quiet during the night, save for the rustling of leaves. The only thing that could be heard was the faint stepping of an assassin’s footsteps, and uneven breathing.
Beacrox, his son who shouldn’t have needed to experience something like this, his son who should have had a normal life with a normal childhood, was so good. He didn’t say anything, didn’t question anything. He just did as he was told and kept running.
Ron felt his heart slowly break into pieces. His child should have never seen such a sight. He felt like a failure, he wanted to be a better father. Someone who could help his son and protect him from the world.
“Ha.. haa….”
However, the one person who was painfully not skilled enough for this was the red-haired man. He was slower than everyone else, and every loud breath dug into Ron as it took everything in him not to snap at the stranger.
“Cough! Cough!”
But then he almost froze in his tracks when the sound of a wet cough echoed between the trees.
“Shit…!” Leroy cursed beside him, but it was Millicent who fully stopped.
From originally being the one leading them into the forest, the young man was now at the back, stumbling over his feet. His hunched figure indicated that he was hurt, and the slight reflection of blood in the dim moonlight caused Ron to curse inwardly.
The man was coughing up blood, but they couldn’t stop. Not when the enemy was right behind them, and Millicent knew that too.
With a quick decision, she grabbed the young stranger’s bloody hand without a care in the world and began dragging him, slowly picking up speed.
“Come on.” A low and gentle mumble escaped her as she watched him, someone who currently looked too young to even be called an adult. “We’ll rest soon.”
All of them know it’s a lie. The promise of ‘soon’ wouldn’t be true, because they couldn’t rest until they were safe, truly safe. Escaping became dreadfully slower, and in truth, the best possibility for them to survive was to abandon any baggage slowing them down.
In this case, the baggage was unfortunately the man Millicent was dragging behind her.
A part of Ron didn’t want to leave him behind, but he was injured and a stranger. They only met almost an hour ago. Ron had no real thoughts about helping him. However, Millicent had a pained but stern look on her face as the grip on the youngster tightened, helping him keep up with them. Ron knew that look in her eyes, he couldn’t say no to her.
Eventually, they rounded a hill and ducked by multiple thick bushes. It was a terrible hiding spot, and it wouldn’t hold at all, but Millicent was determined to at least get a breather.
“Here. We can hide here–”
Leroy interrupted her with a chaotic expression. “Millicent, we can’t stay here and you know it.”
“Just a short while, Leroy. As long as–”
“No.” Surprisingly, the one who protested was the third party, the same one who needed rest more than any of them. “No, you don’t have time to hide. You need to continue.”
He was still dirty with a dark red that stained both his clothes and chin. Out of all of them, the one who needed rest and looked to be one step away from fainting insisted on running was him, but he insisted on continuing. However, what bothered Ron was the way he didn’t include himself when he spoke.
“Kid, you’re injured.”
He only shook his head at his statement and answered with two words.
“I’m fine.”
No one believed him in the slightest, but Ron also couldn’t help but frown at the weirdly calm expression again.
“Spread out!”
Everyone flinched at the distant shout of the enemy. Beacrox clutched at his hand tighter than before, and Ron returned the gesture without an ounce of hesitation.
“Shit…” The red-haired man mumbled before turning back to them, his eyes turned sharp. “I’ll give you some time.”
“What?”
What the hell is he talking about now? This fragile and injured young man says he’s going to stall for them to have more time to escape? How absurd.
It seems like his confused reaction got misinterpreted, because the punk began to explain like Ron hadn’t understood him.
“Look, I’ll make sure to slow them down, but I’m not sure all of them will be stopped, so you need to go. Hiding here will get you killed.”
“Going out there will get you killed, boy!” His cousin snapped at the idiot’s suggestion. Ron understood his reaction. Unless he gets them to chase him, he’ll die the moment they spot him. And Ron doubts he would ever get far enough to actually help them if he did run considering his bad state.
“Over there!”
Everyone’s heads snapped in the direction of the voice. In the distance, multiple black figures moved under the moonlight.
“They’ve spotted us. Let’s go.” When Millicent hastily stood up, everyone followed. She gripped the red-haired man’s upper arm, but even with little strength compared to the powerful woman, he showed resistance.
Instead, the punk pried her hand off of him and let one of his own hands move to her shoulder. She stopped in her tracks, and Ron watched how the man looked straight into her eyes with something unexplainable.
“Go to the Henituse Territory in Raon, and don’t look back. Find the count and countess. If you go undercover as servants, Arm won’t be able to find you.”
All three adults looked at him in surprise, taken aback by the sudden order. Beacrox trembled in Ron’s hold, holding back tears. He didn’t want his savior to go. Not him too.
Millicent met reddish-brown eyes. Eyes that were so deep and filled with experience. Eyes that, despite his young age and fragile build, told her that he had gone through a lot. She doesn’t know who he is or where he came from, but he had protected them. Protected them from the bright blast that would have killed them. He protected her boys from leaving her.
So there was one thing Millicent did know.
He was too young to die. He was too young to give his life away for the sake of a few strangers’ survival.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Millicent!” A painfully loud shout escaped her husband. It only gave away their position even more and the stress returned. “You can’t go.”
“Ron, I can stall for time.”
“None of you are going.” The punk interrupted them, causing Millicent to turn to him instead.
“And you’re not either.”
“This won’t be negotiated. You will run.”
“No, kid. You’re too young, and what do you expect to do?”
“It doesn’t matter. I will buy you time.”
“No! You’re injured too. If anything, I will—“
“You’re a mother!”
The moment the boy raised his voice, his words struck down both Millicent and Ron like lightning. Their silence caused the shouts and the sounds of running to become all too loud. The enemy was close, but for some reason, Millicent felt stuck.
“You have a son, Matriarch Molan. You saw them. Don’t let him grow up without a mother.”
“……”
Still in her frozen state, she slowly turned around. Three people filled her view, where two of them were her world.
Her husband, whom she loved with her whole heart, looked at her with a torn expression. She felt a crack on her heart.
Her son, her beautiful and loving child, held Ron’s clothes in a tight grip. With wide, teary eyes, and a gaping mouth, he looked shocked— No, Beacrox looked terrified. Terrified of Millicent. Terrified that she would leave.
“M-Mama, don’t go…”
At that moment, those words made a decision for her. With trembling hands, she walked up to her boys and reached out to them.
“Millicent…”
Leroy mumbled out her name as she hugged her husband and son close.
“There they are!”
They heard a loud shout behind them that was way too close for Ron’s liking. Tense eyes searched for the enemy, but they eventually landed on a person’s back. The man with red hair, who was set on sacrificing himself, had turned away from them, watching the people running at them.
“Go.”
It wasn’t a request, but a demand, an order. He had a certainty in his voice that rattled something deep within Ron. He was ready to run. Ready to flee with his family. Just as soon as he said something.
“You’ll die.”
It took a few moments of silence before red hair blew in the wind.
Ron saw a smile. It wasn’t one saying goodbye, or one that showed the gentleness in the small concern Ron showed. No, the smile was normal despite the blood dripping down his lips, but it was the eyes that were different.
Calm like a still ocean, reddish-brown that reminded him of home. Yet, they looked playful, almost happy.
The red-haired man laughed, and then dashed away from them without looking back. A force that controlled the wind pushed at them, almost as if it was telling them to hurry up, and Ron let himself stay for one more second to look at the flying man before turning around.
He gave them an opportunity, a chance to escape while he fought off the enemy. It should be Ron who fights. It had been his family they killed, but survival was more important than revenge.
A stranger Ron met for the first time just an hour ago was willing to risk his life for them to escape, and the father, also a husband and cousin, wouldn’t let it be in vain.
“T-The sky…!”
He heard his son’s voice speak between pants, a look of horror and wonder in his eyes. Ron also moved his gaze to look up, and felt a shiver go down his spine.
The night sky was red. A terrifying red, just like ‘his’ hair.
“Ron… what is—“
BOOM!
“Argh!”
Leroy screamed as the sound of an explosion erupted behind them, and Ron couldn’t help but look back and slow to a stop.
Screams. Painful, agonizing screams came from their enemies’ direction, but it didn’t end with one explosion.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Fiery red lightning, the same color as the sky, continuously struck down in the distance. It was a power that shook the spectators down to the bone.
‘Beautiful.’
It was a beautiful sight.
“W, What the fuck….” His cousin mumbled with disbelief. “What the actual fuck…”
Although beautiful, it was terrifying. Ron didn’t think he could anctually admit it. A bloody hand slipped into the hand one that wasn’t holding Beacrox, and Ron turned to see his wife. Her expression was similar to his own, but the eyes that turned to him had a fire in them.
A silent communication, and they were moving again. All the while, lightning after lightning struck down behind them, causing his muscles to tense with every echoing boom.
Perhaps there really was a chance.
A chance that they would all survive.