The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 44: The Silent Tyrant

The night trembled as three figures dropped from the fortress roof. Their boots struck the earth with a heavy thud, dead leaves scattering in the sudden gust that followed, as if stirred by the tension in the air. Their gazes were sharp, locked on the two before them.

Lucien stepped forward at once, sword raised. His other hand extended slightly behind him, barring Adeline's path with silent instinct.

One of the three, a woman, chuckled, her hood dipping as she tilted her head. "Sharp reflexes, Your Grace. Just like your niece. To be honest, I would've been terribly disappointed if you hadn't noticed my attack. You and your wife would've been sliced to pieces by now."

Adeline stiffened. Recognition burned in her chest. 

It's the one who abducted me and Melissa. 

"Crulcifer..." she whispered.

At the sound of her name, Crulcifer's lips curled into a wide grin.

"Eheh. I'm glad you remember me, Duchess. To think you recognize me even when you can't see me clearly beneath this hood." Her tone dripped with mockery. 

"No, I don't recognize your features clearly," Adeline replied, her voice steady. "But your voice betrays you."

Crulcifer's grin widened, her eyes glinting with sudden intrigue. "Ohh... how sharp. You notice more than most, Duchess. How intriguing."

Silence settled for a beat.

Lucien's eyes weren't on Crulcifer. His gaze was fixed on the man beside her, white hair cascading over his shoulders, swaying gently in the breeze. His very presence pressed on the air like a suffocating fog.

At last, the man spoke, looking back at him. His voice was clipped, deliberate, and cruelly calm.

"For four centuries, only a faint echo of her blood stains your veins. An empty shell with no trace of her power. You are as weak as your flesh, human."

A small grin crept across his lips as he tilted his head.

"I suppose you've realized it by now. The fragments your knights uncovered were no accident. They were shards of corruption I planted, a trail designed to make you aware of me."

Lucien did not respond at once. His gaze was sharp as ice, lips parting to speak. "I do not seem to understand why you are showing yourself willingly now. The Dark Lord's existence was perished after the Abyss War."

"Oh, but here I stand, alive. A Dark Lord before you, intent on destroying you and Wintermere. Simple enough, isn't it?" His gaze slid toward Adeline. "I only half-expected you to come when I learned that one of Crulcifer's closest subordinates was your wife's friend. That gave me the advantage I needed. So I had her taken, certain you would come for her. Romantic, isn't it? Proof of your care, written in your actions. How touching... and how predictable. In the end, you took the bait."

"If you are truly willing to destroy, then why hide for centuries?" Lucien replied.

The man straightened, shadows twisting around his robe like a living shroud.

"What use is a crown, Duke of Wintermere, when the world believes its tyrant dead?"

Lucien's grip on his sword tightened. 

"I hid because I chose to. In silence, I carved wounds deeper than conquest ever could. I ended the lives of the dukes before you. Your father's parents were cut down in a battle I orchestrated. Your parents and brother, impaled by branches driven through their backs by a demon tree I summoned. And still, no one dared whisper my name. Oh, speaking of names... mine is Zandros."