UNMASKED

CHAPTER 3

THIRD PERSON'S POV

"Why haven't you attacked her yet? Why haven't you taken any steps?" the First Elder snapped, his voice laced with frustration. His boots clapped sharply against the stone floor as he paced back and forth, his movements agitated and restless. Veins bulged at his temples, anger seething beneath his skin.

Ice, who had been calmly watching the Elder, leaned back in his chair. His gaze was icy, as cold and calculating as his name suggested. "We can’t rush," he said coolly, unfazed by the Elder’s outburst. "Everything is ready. I'm just waiting for the right timing."

"Timing?" the Elder barked, his patience snapping like a brittle thread. "Demon is building the Tower of Hell! Are you going to wait for her to finish it before you act?" His fists clenched tightly, the anger vibrating through his entire body as he glared at Ice.

Ice's eyes narrowed, a glimmer of annoyance flashing briefly in his expression. "You’re too eager," he said, his voice turning sharp. "If you're that desperate, why don’t you do it? Go ahead, attack Demon. Try to kill her. Let’s see if you can even get within fifty meters of her."

The Elder’s face contorted, but he had no retort. Even with his rage, he couldn’t deny the truth in Ice’s words. Demon was a force unlike anything they had ever faced—brutal, clever, and utterly lethal. Her power was beyond anything they had expected.

Ice’s hatred for Demon was undeniable. He wanted her dead just as much as anyone, but he wasn’t a fool. He had seen what she was capable of—seen her manipulate, destroy, and rebuild the world on her terms. This wasn’t a battle he could fight recklessly.

"We’ll wait for the right moment," Ice said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "Don’t make me regret accepting this task."

The Elder stopped pacing, his jaw tightening. "Don't make us regret choosing you." He spat the words like venom before storming out, the door slamming behind him.

The room fell into tense silence, the echo of the Elder's footsteps fading into the distance. Ice sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, when suddenly, a voice sliced through the quiet.

"They couldn’t kill Demon, so they ordered you?" Lux’s voice was light, but her words carried a razor-sharp edge. She leaned against the wall, sipping from a cup of coffee as if she hadn’t a care in the world. "They put you in the lab, ran all those experiments on you to make you stronger, like her... You’re just their guinea pig."

Ice’s hand curled into a fist, his knuckles turning white as he snapped back. "Shut up! If that’s the only way to kill her, then so be it." His eyes burned with fury, the weight of everything—the experiments, the pressure, the hatred—pressing down on him. He had to be the one to end Demon, whatever it took.

"By the way, are you here to help me?" Ice’s anger simmered beneath his skin, but Lux remained calm, almost amused by his desperation.

"Of course not," she replied, her voice laced with sarcasm. She took another sip of coffee, her gaze steady on Ice. "Why would I kill the person my younger brother died for? If Demon dies, Conan’s sacrifice would be for nothing."

Ice stiffened at the mention of Conan. His jaw clenched tightly, his eyes darkening. "Then why are you here, Lux? To mock me?"

Lux shrugged, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Free coffee?" she teased, swirling the liquid in her cup. Her eyes flickered with amusement before her expression sobered. "Or maybe I’m hiding. You think Demon has more enemies than supporters, but you’re wrong. The world may want her dead, but her followers will kill anyone who even thinks of opposing her. If you’re serious about taking her down, start by cutting off her support. Go after the ones who shield her, who do her bidding." Her gaze darkened. "You can’t touch her until you’ve consumed every one of her minions."