<h4>Chapter 109: Actions have Consequences (2)</h4>


    But of course, Zyren didn’t even look at them.


    The old female healer and the young man beside her were still kneeling, their foreheads pressed desperately to the ground. But theck of acknowledgment only seemed to heighten their fear. They trembled harder, shoulders shaking, eyes wide in silent terror.


    "I didn’t know! She told me—she begged me toe—please—" the male healer stammered, his voice thick with dread. His words fell over themselves like a crumbling wall.


    Zyren’s expression didn’t shift.


    He hadn’t spoken, hadn’t moved—but the energy in the room had shifted entirely.


    "ENOUGH," Zyren said, sharply.


    He didn’t shout, and yet his voice sliced through the room like a de, making the walls feel colder. Every sound died instantly. Even the whimpering stopped.


    Aira leaned away from the wall, instinctively. Her red hair stuck to her sweat-damp skin, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her legs barely held her upright. The heaviness in her limbs made her feel like she was underwater, and yet her heart pounded like a drum.


    Her gaze locked on Zyren—ck-haired, tall, with the cruel kind of beauty only a being untouched by time could possess. His red eyes had turned ssy with restrained fury.


    "Actions," he said quietly, raising his hand just slightly, "have consequences."


    The words dropped like stones into the silence.


    Aira felt the fear snap through her. She didn’t know why—she just knew.


    "Wait—" she gasped, shaking her head, her voice catching. "Wait, please—!"


    But it was already happening.


    The shadows on the ground curled like snakes.


    They rose in tendrils—inky ck and writhing, like they had minds of their own. They slithered upward from the tiles, coiling through the air, catching the light strangely. The room darkened subtly even as the torches on the wall burned brighter—as if the shadows consumed the light itself.


    "No—!" the female healer gasped, finally raising her face, her pale eyes wide with horror. "Your Majesty, please! We swore—!"


    She didn’t get another word out.


    A long, jagged tendril whipped through the air like a whip—and pierced her chest with a sickening crunch. She screamed—high and raw—and Aira’s knees gave way, copsing as she watched in paralyzed horror.


    The healer screamed again as more tendrils followed, splitting into jagged edges and wing through her body with supernatural speed and precision. Blood sprayed, dark and hot, pooling on the ground in a grotesque puddle.


    The male healer began to scream next.


    His hands reached upward like they could shield him—but the shadows were merciless. They wrapped around his arms and legs, pulling tight like ropes, crushing bone. One burst his eye socket, another crushed his rib cage with a wet, snapping noise.


    The screams echoed. Wet, ugly, gurgling. Blood hit the walls, the floor, even Aira’s arm as she dragged herself back in horror.


    "STOP!" she screamed. "Please! Stop! They’re dead—they’re already—!"


    But Zyren didn’t stop.


    His red eyes didn’t blink.


    He sat with one hand raised slightly, almostzily, as ifmanding death with the same effort as flipping a page in a book.


    Aira sobbed.


    Her body trembled as she curled on the floor, pressing her face into her arms. The stench of blood filled her nose. Something inside her cracked—she felt it—and when she opened her eyes again, it was worse.


    There were still noises.


    Wet. Crunching. Like someone was chewing meat.


    The healers weren’t just dead. They were being shredded.


    The female’s pale gown was stained entirely red. Her limbs were barely intact. The male healer was trying to scream even after his jaw had been split open.


    It wasn’t punishment. It was a message.


    Zyren was carving the consequences into the floor with blood.


    When it was finally over, the shadows slithered back into the stone like snakes returning to their den. They left behind only carnage—two twisted, broken bodies and the thick stench of death that made bile rise in Aira’s throat.


    She crumbledpletely, her body shaking uncontrobly as sobs tore from her chest. She couldn’t even scream anymore. She pressed her forehead to the cold stone and wept.


    Then she smelled something else.


    Urine.


    Her eyes flicked sideways, barely able to process the new sight. Rymora—her brown eyes wide and staring—stood frozen in ce. Her tunic was wet at the bottom, a dark stain spreading from her thighs down to her knees.


    Her face was white as bone.


    She thought she was next.


    Zyren stood slowly.


    He turned his gaze toward Rymora and raised his hand again.


    "No—!" Aira gasped.


    She didn’t think—didn’t n. Her body moved on instinct. She shoved herself forward, staggering to her feet beforeunching herself at him.


    She mmed into him—not that it did anything. He didn’t budge. He was solid as steel. But her hands fisted against his chest, tears pouring down her cheeks.


    "Don’t!" she cried. "Don’t kill her—please—she can keep a secret!"


    Zyren stared at her. No emotion.


    "For how long?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.


    "She won’t tell a single soul! Please—" she sobbed.


    "Until a lord forces it out of her," he said, eyes narrowing. "Dead people tell no tales."


    Aira’s body wracked with sobs. Her knees threatened to give again, but she clung to him with everyst bit of strength she had left.


    "Can you not be a monster for one day!?" she screamed. "Just one—!"


    Zyren said nothing.


    Then his hand rose again—and Rymora gasped.


    Her hands flew to her throat as invisible fingers wrapped around her neck. She lifted from the floor, kicking violently, her mouth open and eyes bulging as she struggled to breathe.


    Aira turned.


    "No—no—no—!" she sobbed, her voice hoarse.


    She knew she couldn’t fight him. Couldn’t hurt him. Couldn’t stop him.


    She only had one card left to y.


    "I’ll sleep with you!"


    Her voice cracked through the air.


    Zyren’s head turned, slowly.


    "I’ll sleep with you and let you fuck me as many times as you want," Aira choked out. "You can do anything—just don’t kill her!"


    Rymora’s legs were iling. Her lips had turned purple. Her hands wed at her throat in pure desperation.


    "I mean it!" Aira cried. "You can do whatever—use me, keep me, hurt me—but don’t kill her! I can recover from them—but not from her—!"


    Her voice broke again, her entire body wracked with pain.


    Then... silence.


    And a thump.


    Aira blinked through tears—and saw Rymora copse to the floor, coughing violently as she gasped for air.


    Aira almost couldn’t believe it. Her lips parted, her mouth trembling as she began to repeat it again.


    "I’ll sleep with you—"


    But Zyren’s face twisted.


    "Not interested," he snapped.


    His voice cut through her, and she flinched.


    Then he turned and walked out—his ck coat brushing against her as he passed, his hand dragging against his own chest like he was wiping off filth.


    And just like that, he was gone.