Amoria leaned in, her sharp gaze trailing over the boy's body, scrutinizing every detail. Marcy stood silently by the doorway, her arms crossed, a shadow in the dim light of the guild's room. On the bed, Anne and Lizzy lay side by side, their breathing soft, steady. But Michael's was not.
Sweat gathered on his brow, trickling down as he held her gaze.
He'd always thought Amoria was a beautiful woman — captivating, even.
But now, under her unyielding stare, he felt like a chick caught in a python's coils, the serpent's fangs hovering just above his throat, waiting to strike.
And he knew she had every reason to strike.
Marcy shared Amoria's look — unblinking, cold, watching him with that same, chilling focus.
Michael couldn't think. Couldn't move.
Amoria's fingers hovered over him for a moment longer before she straightened, her expression unreadable, her eyes narrowing as she looked him in the face.
A pause stretched between them — heavy, suffocating.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"You seem to be clean," Amoria said, her voice calm, measured. "You're not branded like Lizzy and Anne." Her gaze sharpened, pinning him in place. "You should be grateful you weren't dragged into this."
Her words lingered — cold and deliberate.
Her gaze lingered longer.
"Alright. You can go, Michael."
Michael swallowed hard and nodded, his movements stiff, mechanical.
Without a word, he inched toward the door — his heart pounding louder with every step.
"...To think both Lizzy and Anne got branded—" Marcy's voice trembled, but then her expression twisted with rage. Her eyes flared as she clenched her fists, grinding her teeth as she looked at her daughter as she squirmed in her sleep; unable to fully catch a shut-eye.
"When I catch the fucker... When I catch the fucker who did this to her, I'll—"
"Relax, Marcy," Amoria cut in coldly.
"RELAX!? YOU TELL ME TO RELAX AFTER—"
Amoria turned to her with unyielding intensity, her gaze piercing through Marcy's rage like a blade.
"Save your rage for when we find whoever did this," Amoria said quietly, her voice even; causing Michael to twitch with yet another hard swallow; his face draining of colour when he thought of the implications.
"Right now, neither of them can reply to us truthfully. Whoever did this was meticulous."
She glanced down at Lizzy, her expression softening for a fleeting moment.
"Luckily, Lizzy was smart enough to bypass the mark with her roundabout questions," Amoria murmured, unable to hide a trace of pride in her voice.
Marcy's breathing slowed, but her fists remained clenched.
"But we can't push them further," Amoria continued, her voice hardening again. "Whoever left that mark could've given them commands to harm themselves if they're pressed too hard. If we prod too deep, we risk triggering it."
Her gaze flickered toward Anne, who squirmed on the bed. Unlike Lizzy, Anne appeared to be in visible pain.
Amoria's eyes narrowed.
"...This is a problem," she muttered. "She's resisting the sleeping spell. The owner must've instructed her not to be able to sleep."
Marcy's eyes widened in horror.
"What...?"
YOU ARE READING
Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord
FantasyVan and his friend Magus had reincarnated in another world with magic. Tasked to kill the demon lord, they set forth. Van was granted very rough skills that made life for him in that world a living hell, yet he muscled through. Magus however, was be...
