Bab 124: Chapter 122: Frozen Grief
Chapter 122: Frozen Grief
Marcus's face paled, but his eyes remained steady, locked on Gillian even as the spears of ice inched closer. Blood began to trickle from his eyes, but his expression didn't waver. "Percy is dead. He died in my arms."
Judith's aura flared as she raised her hand, summoning a circle of slicing winds that shattered the icy spears. "Do you want me to lose another member of my family?!" Her voice cut through the freezing air as she stepped beside Marcus, shielding his eyes from her father's aura.
"I'm fine," Marcus rasped, grasping her hand to lower it. His gaze didn't falter as he stared down his father-in-law. "Percy died protecting me."
"Protecting you?!" Gillian's eyes blazed like frozen stars, his mana crashing through the garden. With each step he took, the ground beneath him cracked and splintered. "You were supposed to protect him!" His voice roared like a glacier breaking apart, the ice around them shattering into jagged shards. "I was a fool to let them leave with you last time. This time, I won't repeat that mistake. Judith will remain here, and you will leave."
Judith stepped forward, placing herself squarely between Marcus and her father. Her aura surged, her greying auburn hair lifting like a storm wind. "Do you even care how he died?" Her words were sharp, accusatory. "Or are you content to hide and cower?"
Her green eyes burned with light as a small protective barrier enveloped Lady Clarke, causing her to stir.
"Mind your words, daughter," Gillian warned, his voice low and frigid. His fists clenched, and the frost in the air thickened. "And I already know who's responsible for my grandson's death—he foolishly stands before me."
Instantly, Marcus buckled to one knee, clutching his chest as the air froze within his lungs. Judith's fury flared into panic. "Percy died protecting his father and his friends! One of those friends is a boy named Darius Valdene!"
The name seemed to cut through the tension. Gillian paused, his head tilting slightly as his aura calmed. "Valdene…?" With a long sigh, he relaxed his grip, and the oppressive frost began to melt. Marcus gasped and coughed, finally able to breathe again.
"You have my patience—for now," Gillian said, his voice calm but edged with finality. "Speak quickly before you lose it."
Judith glanced at Marcus and then at the now-conscious Clarke, whose wide eyes darted between them all. Steeling herself, Judith turned back to her father, her tone resolute. "Marcus, Percy, and Darius were attacked by a Vampyre—contracted to a mage named Rainslif Crowley."
In the frozen garden's stillness, the air grew heavier with each passing moment as Judith and, more so Marcus, detailed the events. With Lady Clarke jumping in from time to time, their voices carried the weight of loss and defiance, while Gillian Cross listened in silence, his icy gaze unyielding.
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Seated around an ornate table in the heart of the garden, the tension lingered as Marcus finished speaking, his voice carrying the weight of his confession.
"I sacrificed my potential to kill him and avenge Percy," Marcus said, his tone weary, his gaze fixed, "but the Vampyre was just a slave...so nothing's finished." The silence that followed felt oppressive, as though the garden itself held its breath.
Standing away from the table, Gillian's piercing eyes bore into him. "And what of the Valdene boy? Where is he now?"
"The World-Bear took him," Clarke said, her tone measured as her eyes dropped slightly to avoid looking at Gillian.
"Barrond?" A flicker of shock crossed his face—an expression Judith rarely saw her father use.
Marcus nodded. "He claimed Darius had a history with him. Barrond said he would train him and warned us to leave Crowley to Darius. He called Crowley the boy's prey."
Gillian's brow narrowed in thought. The silence thickened, and Clarke found herself swallowing against the pressure that seemed to emanate from him even with his aura contained.
Judith, unable to bear the stillness, leaned forward, her frustration evident as she gripped the table. "They killed my son. They nearly killed Marcus. Our home—destroyed. That can be rebuilt. But nothing will bring Percy back. How much more can they take from us before we act?"
The sound of cracking ice echoed across the garden. In an instant, the frost and snow melted, transforming into a rain-soaked mist that began to revitalize the plant life.
"You know the agreement, Judith. I cannot interfere with the lower realms, killing Crowley would only bring about disaster."
"We're not asking you to kill him," Marcus said, his aura rising in the absence of Gillian's icy pressure. "Darius will kill Crowley. I will make sure of it."
Gillian frowned, shaking his head slowly. "Then I know what you're about to ask, and I cannot do it. It's simply not possible. I'm sorry. Your guest is welcome to stay as—"
"Coward."
The word struck the air like a blade.
All eyes turned to Lady Clarke, her aura flaring lightly. Her golden eyes locked onto Gillian with unwavering defiance. "You heard what we told you. Rainslif Crowley is responsible for the death of your grandson. Yet you presume to know what we will ask without even listening? Do you not rage? Where is your honor when—"
"Rage?" Gillian's brow arched, his tone sharper than steel. "Child, because I admire your beauty—and I'll admit, your bravery—I will refrain from showing you the depths of my rage."
Judith's fist slammed onto the table, her patience snapping. "What rage?! Is it the same rage that made you turn tail and run?! Did you rage when the free knights died, Father?!"
"Child! You tread dangerous ground! Leave my presence now before—"
"Did you rage for Mother?! Did you rage for the daughter who never got to know her?!" Judith's voice cracked, raw with pain and fury. "Where, damn you! Where is all this rage you claim to have?!"
The room erupted.
Two figures materialized at each end of the table, their bodies encased in glowing red and yellow mana-forged armor. Gauntlets, vambraces, sabatons, greaves, chestplate, tassets, and pauldrons glowed with brilliant light as they raised their hands, instantly forming a barrier.
Winter descended.
Gillian's freezing intent filled the garden, a suffocating storm of frozen power. The barrier flickered and cracked, struggling to withstand the onslaught. The very air felt like it would shatter under the weight of his mana.
Clarke's breath caught in her throat as she glanced at the towering earth knight to her left. Her voice barely escaped as a whisper. "Eighth tier Crystal knights..."
Then came the sigh.
It wasn't loud, but its weight filled the space, snuffing out the chaos like a gale extinguishing a flame. The cold receded, the crackling storm stilled, and the two knights lowered their hands.
Gillian stood tall, his expression softened with a mix of regret and exhaustion. "You're too much like her..."
The fire knight leaned closer to Judith, his voice low and teasing. "Do you have to anger him every time you visit?"
The earth knight's eyes locked onto Judith with a steady gaze. His voice, deep and unwavering. "Don't worry, little sister. We won't let Father bully you this time. Not when our nephew is owed a blood debt."
Judith's smile at her brothers was brief and bittersweet before her gaze turned back to her father. The frost of his aura had cleared, leaving him standing still, his frozen eyes meeting hers. "You say too much, Judith," Gillian said, dragging his hand down his white beard. "Thank your brothers and leave the garden. Their presence won't be enough to stop me if you continue."
Without hesitation or fear, Judith stood and closed the distance between them. Her voice was steady, almost pleading. "It's time." She placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, halting him as he turned to go. "Isn't Percy enough? Can't you see how far this has gone? We need to stand behind the boy. We need you to help us avenge our son, avenge Mother."
The eighth tier earth knight, his fury barely contained, stepped forward as his mana-forged armor dissipated into fragments. "We'll help her. And if the boy proves himself worthy, we'll help the last Valdene."
The fire knight sighed deeply, his steps echoing softly as he joined his brother. "It's true, Father. This has to end. We've hidden long enough. We want justice—for our comrades, for our family."
Like a spectator in a battle of titans, Clarke felt like a mortal intruding on the affairs of legends. Panic bubbled just beneath her composed exterior. 'What the hell am I doing here?' she thought, her mind racing. 'First True Ascended I meet, and I insult him. Darius was right—I am trouble.' She forced herself to stay silent, gripping the edge of her seat to steady her nerves.
Gillian turned back to his daughter, the ice in his eyes melting into something closer to sorrow. His gaze shifted to his sons, lingering for a moment before his voice softened, heavy with regret. "I'm sorry. Even if I wanted to help, it's pointless. If he's as strong as you say he is, the Valdene boy won't kill Crowley. He will die, likely within six months."
Clarke shot to her feet before anyone could respond, her voice cutting through the tension. "Explain yourself! How do you know this?!"
Besided Gillian, everyone stiffened. For the second time, all eyes turned to Clarke, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and restrained amusement. She, however, remained unfazed, her eyes locked on the Legend Knight.
Cross raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You're bold, my brave beauty. I admire that. But this is only a guess." He leaned slightly closer, his tone almost playful. "I believe this Darius child is already on his way to Crowley's tower. Because Crowley has just announced to the world that he plans to execute his father in six months time."
Following Clarke, Marcus shot to his feet. "Impossible! Jarek is already dead."
"My contacts have confirmed it. Crowley has Jarek alive, and he's using his execution as the centerpiece of a celebration—a coronation for his new tower."
Judith paled, her usually steady composure faltering as the weight of the revelation hit her. "He ascended?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Gillian nodded grimly. "Yes. Sending your brothers to intervene would be pointless and only lead to their deaths. Michael and Rael would never escape the other true ascended once they revealed themselves. And you, Judith, are only a half-step Master-Adept. You are no match for a real one."
Michael, standing firm, furrowed his brow, his voice grounding like the earth mana he wielded. "It's obviously a trap. Crowley knows the boy will come."
Clarke began pacing, her aura rippling with unease. "He's not strong enough yet. We have to stop him! If we can get to Barrond's domain, maybe we can—"
Marcus cut her off. "We have to assume he'll already be gone by the time we arrive. Even if we traveled constantly at our fastest, it would take at least four months to reach the Lithic Bastion." His hands pressed flat against the table as he looked around the room. "Darius won't rush in blindly. He'll use the time to grow stronger before he makes a move."
Rael's frown deepened, his skepticism evident. "What makes you so certain? He's just a boy. Wouldn't he act impulsively and try to save his father as soon as possible?"
Marcus turned to him, his gaze unwavering, "he is no boy. In all my years, I have never met anyone like him." His eyes shifted to Gillian, filled with determination. "It's because of my son that I'll continue to believe in him. He will rescue his father. He will kill Rainslif Crowley. And I will honor Percy by standing beside him when he does. Whether you decide to help or not."
"And so will I," Judith declared, her aura firm. "You always told us the only person stronger than you was Warwick Valdene." She grabbed his frosted hand, her own aura calming as she stared at him. "I need your help, Father. Warwick's descendant needs your help. Percy had a chance to change, and Crowley stole that from him."
The Last Winter sighed, a rare sadness flickering across his frozen expression. A faint smile, heavy with regret, tugged at his lips. "You truly don't understand," he murmured. "I already told you—I won't make the same mistake twice. So forgive me for what I'm about to do, but you've left me with no choice."
Before anyone could respond, the world darkened. Time seemed to stretch and contract, and in the blink of an eye, an enormous white snake materialized around them, its coiled body forming a barrier. Its piercing black eyes bore down from a massive, scaled head that hovered above Gillian like an executioner.
The two crystal knights sighed, their auras flickering briefly as they closed their eyes. Judith's aura swirled violently, her green wind tearing at the air as she prepared to act. Meanwhile, Marcus and Clarke exchanged a look—his was one of weary acceptance, hers was full of shock and accusation, her mind screaming, 'it's this bad?!'
In that fraction of a moment, Gillian's voice rang through the garden, low and final. "Devour."
The snake's jaws unhinged, revealing fangs as long as swords. With an overwhelming inhale, it instantly pulled everything toward its cavernous maw. Clarke's breath hitched as the ground beneath her feet disappeared, the table, Judith, Marcus, and the knights all vanishing into the beast's gullet.
Panic surged in Clarke's mind as the darkness closed in around her. The force was unbearable, the overwhelming presence of the snake drowning her senses. Her thoughts scrambled in the chaos, and just before the crushing darkness overtook her, she managed to scream one final word. "Coward!"
The massive jaws snapped shut with a sound like the crack of ice. The snake, now still, coiled itself and rested its head beside Gillian.
"That woman has quite the mouth," his fingers trailing over the snake's scales. He let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting to a single flower untouched in the garden's upheaval.
"I'm sorry, Aphelia," he whispered. "Your husband is a coward."
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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