Blessed By A Yandere Goddess

The vacation home stood as a monument to slaughter.

Ronan stood at the edge of the frozen estate, staring at the carnage with an expression caught somewhere between exasperation and awe.

The foxes had done their work thoroughly. Bodies lay scattered across the snow, their blood painting the white ground in abstract patterns that would have made him vomit a year ago.

Now he only sighed.

"She really went all out."

Even the scent was terrible. If it weren’t for the fact that Ronan had been surrounded by the dead for the past couple of months, he would have vomited by now.

"Die!"

A voice came from the cabinet door as it swung open, an elf spilling out of the furniture and swinging his sword, only for the blade to crack against Ronan’s skin.

Surprisingly, there were survivors.

THWACK!

Ronan decided to finish him off. Anyone dumb enough to attack him after the foxes had taken out the rest of them shouldn’t be allowed to live.

Worst-case scenario, he’ll come back for revenge out of sheer lack of survival instinct.

Ronan climbed the stairs, reaching the third floor as the scent grew even worse. The blood here was fresh, unmistakably red.

But more importantly... it seemed endless.

Only thousands of bodies could have produced that much. But there was no way the third floor could have housed thousands of them.

"Don’t tell me..."

Ronan already had a theory.

He rushed to the end of the hallway and spotted an open door. Beyond it, Ronan saw where the unnatural amount of blood had come from.

Even his experience in Tartarus wasn’t enough to spare him from the disgust and sheer dread of the sight.

[The Goddess of Darkness Takes Away Your Dread]

A faint coldness crept over Ronan, his emotions stabilizing without warning.

It was one of the gifts his grandmother had said Sarael once granted when she was more popular. And now, it seemed she had regained that power once more.

"Sarael..."

He said it when he saw Sarael holding a butter knife that looked intentionally dulled. The blade, along with the shadow holding it, was covered in blood.

As for where the blood came from, Ronan didn’t even need to know about elven politics to know it was the second prince lying on the floor.

SHLICK!

Sarael sliced through another tissue, letting more blood pour onto the floor as the elf screamed in pain. Then, almost immediately, she healed the wound with a sadistic smile on her face.

"Good, keep hurting~"

Ronan stepped into the room, his boots squelching against the blood-soaked carpet. The sound made Sarael’s ears twitch, and she turned around with the butter knife still cutting through the elf’s fingers.

"Ronan!"

Her expression shifted instantly. The sadistic smile vanished into something happier. Like she’d just been caught cooking dinner instead of torturing a man to death.

"You came all the way here for me?"

"Of course."

Ronan’s voice was level, but his eyes kept drifting to the thing on the floor that used to be the Second Prince. He was barely alive.

His body was a canvas of healed-over wounds and fresh cuts, each one carefully placed to maximize pain without letting him bleed out.

"Holy..."

[The Goddess of Darkness Takes Away Your Dread]

"Damn..."

It was clear that Sarael had been at it for a while.

"I’m sorry for touching your mind. But I thought it would help you calm down."

Sarael said, but she didn’t stop her torture. Her shadows continued their slow cutting until one of the prince’s fingers fell off.

"No, no, it’s a good idea."

Ronan stared at the second prince’s state, a literal canvas of blood. He was suffering tremendously, but looked as healthy as a well-fed child.

The contrast made it even harder for Ronan to stomach.

But...

[The Goddess of Darkness Takes Away Your Dread]

...Sarael obviously helped.

"We should go. It won’t be long before day arrives."

Sarael pouted, her lower lip jutting out in an expression that would have been adorable if she weren’t holding a blood-soaked butter knife and standing ankle-deep in gore.

"But I’m not done yet. He hasn’t suffered nearly enough for what he tried to do to you."

Ronan glanced at the Second Prince’s twitching form. The elf’s eyes were still conscious, still feeling every single cut despite the healing that kept him alive.

His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Sarael had probably taken his vocal cords at some point.

"I think he’s suffered plenty."

"Not even close."

Sarael’s shadows tightened around the prince’s remaining fingers. She looked at Ronan with those violet eyes, and for a moment, he saw the conflict behind them.

She wanted to keep going. She wanted to spend hours more, days more, making this man regret every decision that had led to that bullet being fired.

But she also wanted to listen to Ronan. She always wanted to listen to Ronan.

"The sun’s coming up."

He said, keeping his voice gentle.

"I’d rather not carry you back while you’re weakened."

"You’d carry me?"

"Obviously."

That seemed to decide it for her. The shadows retreated from the Second Prince’s body, and Sarael let the butter knife clatter to the blood-soaked floor.

She floated toward Ronan, her feet still refusing to touch the gore, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I missed you."

"What about him?"

He nodded toward the Second Prince. The elf was still alive, still suffering through every nerve in his body.

"He’ll die when the healing wears off. Slowly and painfully~"

Sarael’s smile was sweet.

"I made sure of it. Unless you want him alive for whatever reason?"

Ronan considered finishing the job. A quick death would have been merciful.

But the man had tried to have him killed. Had tried to have Anastasia killed. Had nearly succeeded in killing the Third Prince.

Mercy wasn’t really on the table anymore.

But fortunately for him, he was still valuable, so he had to live to be brought back to the third prince. Unfortunately, the second prince no longer really wanted to after enduring pain like that.

Too bad he didn’t have a say in the matter.

"Keep him alive. And let’s ride a fox home. I’m sure you need to rest after, well, everything..."

"Good idea. That means we have more time to catch up!"

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