Chapter 209: The Death of Ryan Vilt
The floor was paved with smooth stone slabs, and vines grew between the cracks. They felt soft underfoot.
The air was thick with dampness, mixed with the scent of plants and a faint sweetness that was hard to place.
Parker walked at the front. Hayden stayed at his side. Marcus and Olaf flanked them on either side. Vincent supported Gray from behind, while the few surviving explorers stumbled along after them.
They had walked for about the time it took a stick of incense to burn.
Then Parker suddenly stopped.
There was someone standing ahead of them.
Parker stared at that back for several seconds.
Then he smiled.
It was a cold smile, sharp as a blade.
“Attack.”
He raised a hand and gave the signal.
Hayden was the first to move. He was so fast he looked like a shadow, his short sword stabbing straight for Ryan’s back. Marcus circled in from the left, Olaf lunged in from the right, the two of them working together to seal off every path of retreat. Parker himself drew his sword and charged from the front.
Four men.
Four directions.
Ryan moved.
He did not dodge. Instead, he turned and drew his knife.
The sound of that short blade leaving its sheath was light, but in the silent chamber it rang out with startling clarity. A flash of steel met Hayden’s short sword head-on. The sharp clang of metal crashing into metal exploded through the air, and Hayden was thrown back three steps, his sword hand numb from the impact.
Marcus and Olaf came in from both sides. Ryan twisted, letting Marcus’s blade pass by, then drove a kick into Olaf’s knee. Olaf let out a muffled grunt and staggered sideways, crashing into a stone pillar.
Parker’s sword came next.
Ryan raised his knife to block. The two weapons met, sending sparks flying.
“Not bad,” Parker sneered, putting more force into his strike.
Ryan stepped back, redirected the force, then reversed his grip and slashed for Parker’s throat. Parker ducked low, and the blade passed so close to his scalp that it sheared off several strands of hair.
The two of them exchanged blows, knife and sword flashing in a blur. The more Parker fought, the more alarmed he became. This Ryan really did have some skill. No wonder he had beaten Eleanor.
But that was all.
Parker drove Ryan back with one strike, then shifted his body just enough to let Hayden’s blade stab in from behind. Hayden’s short sword scraped across Ryan’s waist, tearing open his clothes in a long cut.
Ryan’s movements stalled for an instant.
Only an instant.
But that was enough.
Parker’s sword drove into his lower abdomen.
Ryan’s eyes flew wide. His mouth opened as though he wanted to say something. Parker gave him no chance. He twisted his wrist, wrenching the blade inside Ryan’s stomach before yanking it back out.
Ryan clutched his abdomen and staggered back two steps before slamming into the stone pillar behind him. Blood poured through his fingers, soaking his clothes and running down the pillar.
Leaning against it, he slowly slid down until he was sitting on the floor.
“Wait... wait...” His voice was hoarse. For the first time, that cold, indifferent face showed something else. Fear. Begging. The kind of despair only someone at death’s door could wear.
Parker looked at him and could not help laughing.
“Wait?” he said, walking over and looking down at Ryan from above. “Wait for what? For you to get back up and fight again?”
Ryan lifted his head and looked at him. His face was deathly pale, his lips trembling.
“Spare me...” he said. “Please... spare me...”
Parker froze for a moment.
Then he burst out laughing.
It was a loud laugh, echoing through the vast chamber. Hayden laughed too. So did Marcus and Olaf. Vincent stood off to one side with a faint smile on his face. Gray still wore that same blank expression, but there was contempt in his eyes now.
“Spare you?” Parker crouched down and lifted Ryan’s chin with the tip of his sword. “A useless pretty boy like you, all show and no substance, is really worth His Highness the Second Prince worrying about?”
Ryan’s lips trembled even more violently.
“I’ll serve you like an ox or a horse...” he said. “I’ll be your dog...”
Parker stared at him for two seconds.
Then he stood up.
“Be my dog?” he said, a smile curving at the corner of his lips. “You’re not worthy.”
He thrust his sword into Ryan’s heart.
Ryan’s body jerked once, then went slack. His eyes remained open, wide, as though even in death he could not believe what had happened.
Parker pulled the blade free and flicked the blood from it.
He looked down at the corpse, and a strange feeling rose in his chest.
That was it?
That was the man the Second Prince had specifically ordered him to kill? The one who had defeated Eleanor? The one who always looked so cold, so untouchable, so above everything?
That was it?
Begging on his knees. Offering to serve. Offering to be a dog.
Parker suddenly found it laughable.
“His Highness the Second Prince thought far too highly of you,” he said softly. Then he lifted his foot and planted it on Ryan’s face, grinding it down. That last trace of cold detachment was crushed beneath his boot.
He drew his foot back and glanced at Hayden.
“Cut off his head,” he said. “Keep it. We’ll bring it back for the Second Prince to see.”
Hayden nodded, drew his short sword, and bent down.
Parker turned and looked into the distance.
Vera. Lillian. Rex.
The three of them stood there, their faces pale as death. Lillian’s mouth was open, but no sound would come out. Rex’s eyes were blood-red, and the hand clutching his greatsword was shaking. Vera leaned against a stone pillar, her expression unreadable, somewhere between fear and something else.
“Y-you...” Lillian finally forced out a sound, her voice shredded and hoarse. “You killed Ryan...”
Parker smiled.
“That’s right,” he said. “We did.”
Lillian let out a scream and drew her sword, charging forward.
Rex moved too. Raising his greatsword, he rushed at Parker like a beast driven mad. He was fast—far too fast for someone who had already been injured.
But Marcus was faster.
He slammed into Rex from the side, his shoulder crashing into Rex’s chest. Rex was sent flying, smashing into a stone pillar before sliding down. His greatsword slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.
Olaf followed up immediately and drove a punch into Rex’s face.
Rex’s head snapped to the side, blood spilling from the corner of his mouth.
“Rex—!” Lillian screamed, trying to run to him, but Parker was already standing in front of her.
He reached out, seized her by the throat, and lifted her off the ground.
Her legs kicked wildly in the air. Her face turned red from the lack of breath. She tried to stab him with her sword, but before the blade could get anywhere, Parker caught it barehanded, tore it away, and flung it aside.
“Trash,” Parker said.
Then he threw Lillian away.
She slammed into a stone pillar, bounced off, and crashed to the floor. She struggled to get back up, but Parker was already striding toward her.
A flash of steel.
Lillian’s head flew through the air and landed several steps away.
Rex’s howl exploded through the chamber. He shoved Olaf aside, snatched up his greatsword, and charged.
Marcus met him head-on and plunged his blade into Rex’s chest.
Rex froze.
He lowered his head and looked at the sword buried in his chest, at the blood pouring out and soaking his clothes red. Then he lifted his eyes and looked toward Lillian’s headless corpse lying not far away.
He opened his mouth, trying to shout something.
But all that came out was a mouthful of bloody foam.
Then he fell.
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