A Second Shield

Heavy rainfall hammered down, clawing mercilessly at anything low-lying in its path. Thunder roared across the heavens, proclaiming every mortal sin—though the wretched below understood none of it, left blind and unrepentant. Jagged bolts of lightning danced across the domains surrounding the palace, turning the royal grounds into a grotesque waltz floor—roasting anything they touched to ash. For three days and two nights since the Teumessian fox died, the people of Northland trapped within the storm's shadow had suffered its unnatural fury. Trembling under their roofs, commoners feared they would starve as their food stocks slowly dwindled, with no aid coming from the palace. Everyone was too afraid to end up like the fools who thought they could fight the lightning head-on, only to be annihilated by a single strike.

And all of them blamed it on what they had long believed to be the beast's curse.

Neither King Leomar nor the kingdom's elders could formulate any meaningful strategy to deal with the sudden catastrophe striking them. They could ask for no aid from external forces, as everyone was paralyzed by terror. No magic could shield them from the scorching bolts of lightning should anyone dare to travel. They had forced one knight to venture outside to test it—he had barely made it a meter past the threshold before a bolt struck him into nothingness. It brought crushing panic to those trapped inside the palace, especially the king and Prince Lance, who had nearly met the same fate.

"Useless familiar!"

King Leomar smashed his fist against the table in his chamber, his knuckles white as his face darkened. He clutched the black ring engraved with a skull. Days had passed since the knighthood trial ended, and despite his repeated attempts to summon the mermaid of death, nothing happened. The ring still reacted to him, confirming that their contract remained unbroken. Believing the god of death might have assigned his mermaid commander some other task, King Leomar had remained patient. But now, when he needed his familiar most, she still refused to show. He began to suspect she was abandoning him without offering a single word of explanation for what she had done back at the trial. He wanted answers as to why his infamous bastard son was still walking free when he should have been rotting.

And now, on top of it all, another curse was battering them with no end in sight.

King Leomar's expression twisted like that of a mobster plotting a murder in his own head. Everyone in the palace was a useless fool—a pack of suckers. Not a single soul could offer an idea on how to handle their crisis. Even the crown prince acted naive, merely waiting for orders. Meanwhile, the second prince was unraveling like a lunatic terrified of an invisible phantom. While the lightning nearly striking the prince was harrowing enough, someone of royal blood, trained like a knight, should have been able to recover and stand firm. Yet looking at them now, both of his sons were nothing more than fodder for predators—lacking even an ounce of the spine required to rule.

What should he do now? As the king of this kingdom, the people would definitely look to him, hoping he could do something within his power. Falter, and he would lose everything he had accomplished with his own blood and sweat. But with his own ability alone, how would he even fight or put a stop to that strange storm outside? Had he taken the curse along with the honor of the one who had actually caught that fox? Or had he been tricked again by that bastard son of his?

Thinking about being fooled again, the king's aura darkened, creating a crushing weight that filled the entire room. The window glass shattered, and vases and other light objects cracked under the strain. Even the very floor fractured from the sheer, merciless pressure being poured out.

"I'm going to kill you, son of a bitch!" he roared through gritted teeth. "Just you wait, and I'll definitely find a way to end your life!" His face twitched again, twisting into a horrible expression of rage.

Outside the palace, news of the unnatural phenomenon consuming Northland's domain spread like wildfire, reaching nearby cities and even neighboring kingdoms. From afar, people could see the bizarre storm lingering directly over the palace grounds. At first, many assumed someone powerful was simply testing their abilities or that it was the byproduct of some new discovery within the royal walls.

But those who tried to get close found entry impossible after witnessing the sheer devastation left in the storm's wake. Plants, land, and buildings were utterly destroyed. The most intriguing part was the strict perimeter of the storm—it did not touch a single thing outside its boundary.

As they waited for the strange phenomenon to stop, onlookers began to wonder if anyone could possibly still be alive inside that fury.

Erus, on the other hand, did not care about what was happening in the palace. He kept worrying that Cana still had not woken up after three straight fucking days. He began considering asking the healers for help, but Cana's words also lingered in his mind. If others touched her, they would die, though he really did not understand why. Her body was not strange at all. It had a normal temperature, so how exactly would they die?

"My Lord, someone is looking for you," a male elf told him while he was in the kitchen.

Erus stopped mincing the meat and stared at it for a while before sighing. He put the knife away, then left the kitchen and headed straight to the living room.

Inside, he saw a man he was not familiar with sitting on the couch. Seeing him, the guest immediately stood up and bowed.

"Pardon my sudden intrusion, My Lord," he greeted Erus.

Erus did not react. He simply crossed to the other couch and sat down. At least the man knew what he had just done.

"My name is Gareth, and Gregory instructed me to see you at once. It also happens that I have some concerns about the layout of your mansion's defenses," Gareth said, then hastily looked away from Erus, avoiding the Tyrant's gaze.

Erus instantly remembered the name Gregory had mentioned before. Gareth looked like a crossbreed between a mortal and a dwarf, with the finer features of both lineages.

"Go on," Erus instructed.

Gareth quickly spread out the defense layout on the wooden table.

"Other than the underground defenses, I found areas around here," he said, pointing to and connecting locations on the layout, "where we can set up the advanced tactical defenses you had me work on. It would be easier to detect anyone who dares to sneak in using any form of magic."

Erus was quite satisfied.

"Try it on me first. If it works, then do it the way you see fit."

Speechless, Gareth looked at him, hesitant, then quickly turned his eyes to the layout. How was he supposed to respond to Solari?

"Bring it here tomorrow," Erus told him when he did not respond. "Anything else?"

"Yes, My Lord. And regarding the weapon that I imbued with elements. Gregory told me you bought it. Is there something you want me to do with it?"

"We'll talk about it with Cana some other time. Is that all?"

Gareth bowed. "Yes, My Lord, and thank you for your time."

Erus stood up. He looked one more time at the layout, then at Gareth before leaving the room, restraining himself from telling everyone to stop addressing him like that. They just wouldn't listen.

He went back to the kitchen and resumed what he had left earlier.

Gareth was left in the living room, a bit confused. This was the first time he had talked to Solari, though he had heard many things about him. And just now, he could tell Solari was not his usual self.

Plus, the men working outside, who were usually loud and energetic, were all working quietly. That could not be because Solari did not like the noise—clanking and smashing metal and stone were everywhere outside the mansion. Whatever was happening, he'd better ask Gregory if that old man knew something.

He was also a bit disappointed not to see the lady Gregory had been talking about nonstop when Gareth first met him. From what Gregory had told him, Cana seemed to have quite a lot of knowledge when it came to magic, and Gareth was curious to see what she knew.

Gareth sighed. Better focus on the task assigned to him now.

He rolled up the layout for the advanced defense plan before leaving.

Just after Gareth left, the male elf knocked again on the kitchen's open door. Erus had finished preparing the ingredients and was about to cook.

"My Lord, an Elder elf is here and wants to meet you," the male elf told him.

Without giving it a second thought, Erus washed his hands and dried them before leaving the kitchen. In the living room, a young-looking man sat on the couch. He waved at Erus when he saw him coming.

"Why are you here?" Erus asked.

"I'm doing good, and your place seems really nice now. I wonder how it feels to live here," the Elder elf answered with his beaming manly smile.

"Tsk!" was Erus's reaction before he slumped onto the couch. "Ketch, serve this old man some snacks," he ordered the same male elf who had been telling him about his visitors.

Ketch gently bowed before going to the kitchen.

"You really know how to slap me in the face, little kid. By the way, Ketch is looking better now. Thanks to you."

Erus smiled a little behind his mask but did not comment.

Ketch was an orphan who had become a slave because of the mortals' cruelty. He was about to be sold to a rich noble from another kingdom when Erus happened to come across the carriage carrying him as it was being attacked by wild beasts. He found the young elf fighting for his life alone; the other mortals guarding him were all dead. Erus saved him and turned him over to the elves, but when Erus later asked for people to work for him, Ketch volunteered at once to serve him.

"Rufelle, you aren't here for Ketch, are you?"

The old elf brushed the tips of his hair with his slender fingers.

"About that mysterious storm happening right now in the city of Sparrow, do you have any idea what actually happened? It happened right around the time of the Teumessian fox's execution, right? And until now, the reports say that no one outside the perimeter of that storm can enter, nor has anyone seen someone inside come out."

Long silence.

"Might be the curse," Erus answered coldly.

"You were there with your team, but you weren't affected by that curse," Rufelle replied calculatingly.

"They tortured the fox to death. It was barely alive when we reached the palace, and it was dead even before the execution happened. It had no personal grudge against us."

Rufelle stopped combing his hair, then grinned, his eyes glinting with mockery.

"The audacity," he commented before looking at Erus again. "But the bizarre weather has no connection with the so-called cursed beast. I've known Teumessian foxes for too long. They possess magic that carries their character, but not something beyond a mortal's power."

Erus scratched the back of his ear. "Did you know something I don't?"

Rufelle shook his head. "I was hoping you had some idea about it. That's why I came here."

"Even if I knew, there's no point in telling. Unless someone tough enough comes along to face that rampaging storm—definitely not me."

Sensing Erus's evasiveness, Rufelle chose not to push further. Instead, he pulled a vial from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table.

Erus frowned, curious about what the vial was for.

"Remember the woman who touched you that night inside your guild?"

"No," Erus answered blandly.

Rufelle sighed, almost wanting to roll his eyes.

"The hunters who violated her took her to the deeper part of the forest, near your guild. While she was unconscious, we took some blood and nail samples from her. Guess what we found."

"I don't get involved in strangers' business. What does that have to do with me?"

"Her hair and nails carried traces of a potion, while her blood was tainted with poison. The odd thing is, neither had affected her."

Erus went still. He looked seriously at Rufelle, then at the vial. He gritted his teeth upon realizing what could have actually happened that night.

"How did you know?" he asked Rufelle.

"The lady you were with that night almost had the whole place burned down if the guild master hadn't been quick enough to throw up that shield and block your attack. One of our men noticed how Cana looked at that woman with rage, then suddenly changed after she stopped you from attacking. She had been giving that woman deadly warnings. Haven't you noticed it?"

"Ca... Cana? No. I was so mad that time, and I didn't notice she was watching until she came to me."

Rufelle shook his head again.

"You really need to be careful with your anger issues against women. You almost put yourself in danger that night. The poison was lethal enough to kill you if that woman's blood touched you or if you smelled it. And witchcraft was also involved, specifically targeting you."

Erus stared longer at the vial. How could he not have noticed it at all when Cana had been saving his ass multiple times? If she had not been there when he had that severe fever on the island, who knew if he would still be sitting here today in front of Rufelle? She had saved him from the backlash of using the Reaper's power. She had saved him from Cassiopeia, and she had also saved him from those Dragon Crawlers, which she said were carrying lethal poison that his current state couldn't handle.

It was as if Cana's arrival had given him a second shield.

"Your woman seems innocent on the outside, yet she's quite the opposite on the inside," Rufelle said with a smirk.

"You said it, so you better shut your mouth. She is no one's property," Erus replied coldly, though he wasn't entirely against the idea.

"I really want to meet her. Is she here?"

Erus furrowed his brows behind his mask.

"Too eager to sign your death warrant today? She's resting, and she doesn't want anyone disturbing her peace."

Rufelle scratched his head. He wouldn't dare push any further, or he might set off one of the ticking bombs in the room. He had heard enough warnings.

Just then, Ketch returned empty-handed. He bowed before speaking to Erus.

"Forgive me, My Lord, but I forgot we don't have any snacks in stock."

Erus's eyes narrowed behind his mask. The corner of his lips slowly curled upward.

"Aish! You brat, I'm leaving," Rufelle said, pushing himself up from the couch. "I'm leaving the vial with you so you can investigate it further. My resources are limited for now."

"Okay. Thanks, then," was Erus's only reply.

"Have a safe trip, Elder," Ketch added, bowing to the departing Rufelle. His tone was so polite that it almost sounded sarcastic.

Rufelle didn't bother responding. He simply took a deep breath before heading out.