CHAPTER 146
“Fools, kek, kek, kek. Did you really think I would bargain with such a trivial diamond?”
Red blood dripped from the witch's fingernail down her finger.
Before she could even finish her sentence, a sharp blade was placed against her throat.
Vesilkia snorted at the Emperor, who had pointed his sword at her.
“Go ahead, try to kill me. But if you do, don’t you want to know what will happen to your wife, with whom I’ve made a contract? Kek, kek, kek.”
Even with the blade leaving a red mark on her skin, she showed no fear.
“Your Majesty, the witch speaks the truth. If you harm her in an attempt to break the contract, the Empress will be in grave danger.”
Count Corald urgently spoke as he approached the Emperor.
He prided himself on his knowledge of witches...
But it was arrogance.
He knew that verbal contracts with witches held no power. Yet he had been momentarily distracted by the news of Crown Prince Luca’s survival.
He had brought the witch here himself.
And despite knowing witches better than anyone, he had failed to prevent this situation.
He should have recognized it immediately when she mentioned a “verbal contract.” He should have suspected that the witch had ulterior motives.
Count Corald could not lift his head, overwhelmed with guilt.
The sinews on the Emperor's hand, which gripped the sword hilt, pulsed with rage.
But slowly, the Emperor withdrew the sword from the witch's neck.
He knew he had no choice.
The Emperor embraced Arabelle, pulling her into his arms.
His red eyes, filled with murderous intent, kissed the top of her head.
It was the first time he had shown an unguarded expression.
As if to protect her from everything in the world, he wrapped his robe around Arabelle.
“No matter how you try to deny it, the Empress and I are now bound together tightly. Kek, kek, kek.”
Count Corald glared at the witch with disgust and asked.
“What do you intend to do now?”
“Exactly what you’re thinking. To a witch over three hundred years old, the blood of a Lumen Savior is the elixir of eternal life.”
The knights surrounding the witch clenched their jaws tightly.
“I haven't decided yet whether I'll drink it all at once or savor it slowly, so don't get too excited.”
The witch licked her lips, casting a sly glance at the Emperor, who held Arabelle close.
“Your Majesty, depending on how you treat me, I may decide to take the Empress to the Forest of Spirits immediately... or I might give you some time to say goodbye. Kek, kek, kek.”
Vesilkia slumped into a soft sofa, leaning back leisurely as she hummed.
“First, I’ll have a drink and think about what to do next. The food at Count Corald’s estate didn’t suit my taste at all.”
Vesilkia's gaze slid over the Emperor as she continued.
“If Your Majesty personally brings me the blood in a wine glass, I might consider whether to take the Empress to the Forest of Spirits now or give you some time.”
The knights bit down hard on the inside of their cheeks, resisting the urge to draw their swords and behead the witch.
Timothy looked at his father with desperate eyes.
Hoping there might still be another way.
But Count Corald stood there, his head hanging low, powerless.
“Why don’t you just take me instead? You’ve already made a contract with me.”
Tristini knelt at the witch’s feet, pleading.
“I’ll give you all the blood in my body right here, right now. Please, just spare the Empress.”
Tristini begged with all her heart.
“Kek, drinking a single drop of the Empress’s blood is more potent than all the blood in your body. You’ll be fed to my pets. How dare you speak out of turn.”
The witch kicked Tristini’s shoulder with her foot.
Timothy quickly rushed to help her up.
“I'm starting to get annoyed.”
The witch frowned as she looked at the blood pooling on her fingernail.
“If you don’t pour the blood into a wine glass soon... the Empress will begin to suffer unbearable pain for breaking the contract. Tristini over there can tell you all about it.”
Tristini, her face pale, shook her head side to side.
It was a pain so severe that it felt like her veins were burning and her bones were melting.
A pain so extreme that death seemed a mercy.
The Emperor's arms tightened around Arabelle.
He tried to remain calm to avoid alarming his wife, but his heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst out of his chest.
No matter how hard he tried to think of a solution, it was no use.
Cold sweat trickled down the Emperor’s back.
“If you give me what I want, I will give you everything.”
The Emperor's voice echoed heavily in the chamber.
What he said he would give her anything...
The knights' eyes widened in shock. A heavy silence filled the room.
The witch was the first to break the silence.
“Will you give up the throne? Or perhaps the entire Empire?”
The Emperor did not respond to her question.
But his lack of response was not a denial.
“Kaak, kaak, kaak.”
Vesilkia let out a disturbing laugh.
“Why would I want the Empire in exchange for the Empress’s blood? You’d just take it back later. Kek, kek. Then you’d really have nothing to hold over me and would tear me to shreds and feed me to the crows.”
Vesilkia smiled directly at the Emperor, meeting his increasingly intense red eyes.
“I know exactly what you did to King Bergen of Laicanor. You’d probably be hundreds of times more merciless to me.”
She didn’t flinch from the darkening red eyes of the Emperor as she continued.
“Stop scheming and bring me your wife’s blood in a lovely wine glass. Otherwise, I’ll take the Empress away right now.”
Vesilkia leaned back on the sofa, lifting her chin arrogantly.
“Oh, and it would be best to send everyone else out while you fetch the blood. I want to enjoy some alone time with His Majesty.”
Sir Jacob growled, the sound rumbling in his throat.
The veins on the back of his hand, which clutched his sword hilt, bulged ominously.
Sir Peter and Sir Derrick pressed down on his shoulders from both sides.
They couldn’t afford to upset the witch right now.
The Emperor and Empress would be in even greater danger.
Vesilkia turned her head lazily, as if even dealing with them was too much trouble.
“Hurry up and decide. Or do I need to show you the Empress writhing on the floor in agony before you come to your senses?”
She looked at the blood-stained finger with satisfaction and then slowly brought it to her mouth.
“I wonder how sweet it will be...”
Vesilkia’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she stuck out her serpent-like tongue to lick her finger.
Tristini buried her face in her hands and began to sob.
A sense of helplessness filled the room, suffocating everyone inside.
The bitter taste of blood spread across the Emperor's tongue as he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.
Just as Vesilkia made a show of sucking on her finger...
“Kh... urrk!”
She grabbed her throat with both hands.
Her face contorted with such pain that it was almost too horrific to look at. She looked toward the Emperor...
No, to be precise, she looked at Arabelle, hidden within the Emperor’s embrace.
The witch’s limbs twisted grotesquely as her body collapsed onto the floor.
Writhing in agony, she screamed.
“W-what is...!”
She tried to speak, but the blood pouring down her throat burned her from within, making it impossible.
Foamy blood bubbled up between her lips.
Her once dark skin blistered, bursting open, then blistering again.
Her eyes rolled back, showing only the cloudy, yellowed whites.
Everyone was frozen, unable to move a muscle, watching in disbelief.
The Emperor, too, could only watch as the witch writhed in agony at his feet.
Then,
“Your Majesty...”
A small voice emerged from within the blue robe where Arabelle was hidden.
The downward gaze of his red eyes met with the large, black pupils peeking out from under the robe.
"Please let me go for a moment."
The Emperor's arms tightened even more, resolute in not letting her step away from him, not even for a single step.
Arabelle tried to tiptoe and bring her face closer to the Emperor's ear, but the height difference made it difficult.
The Emperor bent his waist and neck deeply, bringing his ear closer to her. Arabelle's lips hovered near his ear, her confident voice entering his mind.
"I'll go teach her a lesson. Don’t worry."
The Emperor's eyebrows slightly lifted in surprise.
The round eyes that met his gaze turned into crescent moons as she smiled.
In stark contrast to the tense expressions of everyone else in the room, Arabelle's face was peaceful and bright.
The Emperor's throat bobbed once with a hard swallow.
His arms slowly loosened, and he removed the robe that had enveloped Arabelle.
Arabelle stepped lightly out of the Emperor's embrace and approached the witch, with the Emperor closely following her.
"How... how is this happening... huff, huff... ugh..."
Besilcia's eyes darted frantically through the strands of her sweat-soaked hair, filled with pain and disbelief as she glared at Arabelle.
Arabelle knelt before the witch, who was writhing on the floor, and gently placed her hand on Besilcia's forehead.
The Emperor's jaw clenched tightly as he watched Arabelle make contact with the witch, but he did nothing.
He had to trust the look in Arabelle's eyes that he had seen moments ago.
In this room, the strongest person wasn't the Emperor, nor was it the three-hundred-year-old witch Besilcia.
It was Arabelle.
As soon as Arabelle's hand touched the witch's forehead, the pain miraculously vanished.
"Ahhhh..."
A long breath escaped from the witch's lips, as if she had narrowly escaped death. Her unfocused eyes settled on Arabelle, filled with disbelief.
The wound Besilcia had inflicted on Arabelle's wrist with her nails was now spotless, without a single mark left.
Arabelle's clear and jewel-like black eyes gazed directly into Besilcia’s, piercing through to the soul hidden behind the witch's dull eyes.
Even with just her gaze, Arabelle sent shivers down Besilcia's spine, causing cold sweat to break out.
"What... what did you do to me...?"
The witch's voice, now fearful and trembling, spread across the floor, a stark contrast to her earlier rude tone.
Arabelle slowly stood up, looking down at the witch, who struggled to rise and face the Empress.
Though her body still trembled from the lingering pain, the witch found some comfort merely by being close to Arabelle.
It was ironic.
Just moments ago, the witch had been plunged into unbearable agony after tasting Arabelle's blood, but now, simply being near her seemed to ease the pain.
Fearing Arabelle might move away, Besilcia curled up her body, hesitating to reach out to even touch the hem of her dress, yet the murderous gaze from the Emperor dissuaded her.
The Emperor's eyes burned with the intent to strike the witch down if she dared to offend the Empress.
With a serene expression, Arabelle responded,
"You carry the blood of goblins within you, don't you?"
"Yes..."
Though the witch already knew this fact, her eyes gradually widened in shock. Standing behind her, Count Coral’s eyes also grew large in realization.
Arabelle looked at the torn skin on the witch’s body.
"The light of Lumen Savior doesn't directly affect humans. But it's different for beasts."
Count Coral, almost unconsciously, muttered under his breath,
"Goblins are originally monsters created from the blood of forest beasts."
Besilcia's face turned ashen, and her pupils began to tremble wildly.
Arabelle reached out and grasped the trembling witch's hand.
"Aaahhhh!"
The witch screamed in agony as the pain struck her again, collapsing to the ground.
A voice, dignified and stern, filled with an authority that made the room fall silent, came from Arabelle.
"You've done many wicked deeds to poor orphans. You've cruelly harmed newborn creatures without a second thought. Even now, countless lives suffer in pain, trapped in your home's basement... You must be punished."
Everyone in the room gazed at the Empress as if hearing her voice for the first time, captivated by her presence.
It felt as if a noble light was surrounding her.
Arabelle's eyes shone with determination as she commanded,
"From now on, you will lead the way for Crown Prince Luca and the Crown Princess. If you fail, you will suffer a pain so intense you’ll wish for death, just as you warned."
The witch, unable to form coherent words, nodded her head vigorously, begging for salvation from the pain by reaching out to Arabelle.
This was the true power of Lumen Savior, something even Arabelle had not fully realized until now.
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