Seeing the situation turn against them, Ragnar turned to flee, but the two members from the Frost family caught up with him. With a flash of sword light, his head separated from his body. Just like that, only Narcissa remained. She was gravely injured and collapsed to the ground.
Aveline approached, her sword pointed at Narcissa’s throat. Four other Frost family members closed in, cutting off all escape routes. Blanche walked over as well, staring coldly at the person responsible for the massacre of the Weston family.
Narcissa’s hair hung loose and disheveled, her body covered in blood. The arrogance she once carried was gone, replaced by fear and bitter resentment.
“You… You dare kill me?” she screamed. ” My husband is Alarion. The Jornells of Amethysius won’t let you get away with this. Elder Sevran will arrive any moment. All of you must die.”
Blanche stood before her, looking down without a trace of mercy. Only cold killing intent showed in her eyes.
“The Weston family had dozens of people, all of them innocent mortals. Tell me. Did any of them threaten you? Did you spare a single life?”
Narcissa froze, then screamed hysterically, “Why should anyone care about insects like that? Dying by my hand was an honor!”
She continued, “Blanche, if you dare touch me, my husband will rip your soul out and refine it until there’s nothing left of you to reincarnate. As for the rest of the remnants of the Frost family, you will all be wiped from existence.”
“You’re hopeless.”
Blanche slowly raised the ice sword that had formed in her hand, its blade gleaming with cold light. “Your threats won’t save you. The blood debt to the Weston family can only be repaid with your life.”
“No! You can’t kill me. My husband…”
Narcissa’s terror overwhelmed her. Tears and snot streamed down her face, all semblance of a noble lady gone.
Blanche ignored her rambling. The memory of the charred ruins and the silently extinguished souls flashed through her mind. Her eyes gleamed with cold light as she swung her ice sword without hesitation.
The blade swung down, and Narcissa’s shouts and threats ended abruptly. A head rolled to the ground, eyes wide with unending hatred and fear. As the headless body fell, blood spread across the ground.
This proud and ruthless member of the Jornells of Amethysius, who treated life as nothing, had finally paid the ultimate price for her crimes.
Blanche looked at Narcissa’s body. No triumph stirred in her, only an icy stillness. She slid her ice sword back into its sheath and faced Aveline and the others.
“Aunt Aveline, thank you for coming,” she said.
Aveline shook her head, her expression grave.
“Blanche, we shouldn’t stay here. Narcissa must have sent a message before she died. The Elder Sevran she mentioned is likely a Core-Forged Arcanist. Her husband, Alarion, is dangerous as well. We must leave at once.”
“You’re right,” Blanche replied with a nod. “Let’s leave now.”
Aveline quickly gathered the Violebolt Orb and Narcissa’s storage pouch. Without wasting a moment, they turned and shot off on beams of light in the direction opposite Oakvale. They soon disappeared into the depths of the mountain forest.
In the valley, only a few corpses remained, along with mist that hadn’t quite dissipated and the heavy stench of blood.
About half an hour later, a violent streak of cyan light shot across the sky at incredible speed and crashed down into the valley. As the light faded, a young man in teal robes emerged.
His face, which would normally be refined and handsome, was now twisted with fury. This was Narcissa’s husband, Alarion.
After receiving his partner’s distress signal, he spared no effort, pouring out his essence to activate a secret technique and rush here as fast as he could. Even so, he was still a step too late.
“Narcissa!”
Alarion caught sight of his wife’s body, her head torn from her shoulders. Rage and horror flooded him, and a raw, animalistic howl tore from his throat.
He stumbled to her side, hands shaking as he lifted Narcissa’s head. He felt it in her fading spirit, the endless rage and hatred she carried in death. Grief and fury crashed through him, shattering his reason in an instant
“Who? Who did this?”
Alarion threw his head back and let out a deafening roar. His Core-Forged Arcanist aura erupted without restraint, shaking the valley. Rocks tumbled from the cliffs as the ground trembled beneath him.
Amid the chaos, he spotted the bodies of the fallen guards. The air still carried the lingering chill of Blanche’s icy energy, along with faint traces of unfamiliar sword auras.
“Blanche!” Alarion snarled. “A remnant of the Frost family, and she wasn’t alone.” He gritted his teeth. The whites of his eyes were streaked red, his expression twisted with rage and venom.
“Fine,” he said. “You killed my wife. That makes this a blood feud, and it ends with you. I’m going to tear you apart, Blanche. I’ll rip your soul out and grind it down until there’s nothing left.
“I’ll make you suffer every torment this world has to offer, so you will never be reborn. Also, those who helped you and every last remnant of the Frost family will die the same way.”
Violent spiritual energy raged around him, pulverizing the surrounding rocks and vegetation. He carefully gathered Narcissa’s remains and stored them away. Then, he began to scour the scene, focusing on every lingering trace of energy waves.
“They fled west, but they won’t escape.”
Alarion smiled viciously and pulled out an ancient bronze mirror. He bit his finger, smeared blood across its surface, and formed several hand seals.
The mirror glowed with an eerie light. Within its surface, several blurred streaks of light appeared, fleeing westward.
“Found them Blanche, and those damned accomplices of yours, not one of you will escape.”
Alarion put away the mirror and transformed into a cyan streak of light boiling with killing intent, racing westward in pursuit. His speed now outpaced even his arrival, showing he no longer held anything back.
The valley fell silent again. Only wreckage remained, along with the lingering stench of blood. It was a sign that this vendetta, sparked by mortal lives, was about to spiral into something far more brutal.
The storm was just beginning.
