The man who stood framed in the doorway wasn’t the picture-perfect example of a butler anymore. 

His suit was a mess, dust and skid marks riddled its surface, and a visible slash was apparent on his left sleeve, piercing into his skin, revealing a thin line of blood. Although he talked cocky, his breath was heavy like had just run a marathon. 

Although my ears and eyes told me all those things, I didn’t really process them to fully understand what happened to him.

All I wanted to do was erase that smile of his.

I focused Carine’s eyes on his suit, in case he had any weapons anywhere around him. But, all I could see were pieces of paper in his inner coat and cash in his pocket. The pieces of paper looked like they had sigils on them… could it be magic parchments?

I needed to approach him cautiously, but also not give him any openings.

Both of us closed the distance as fast as we could. The man’s eyes flicked between Carine then Feyt. His eyes widened at the sight of the latter.

He unfortunately jumped to the side before our blades could reach him. He was fast, but not a blur. Leila was significantly faster.

As he regained his balance, he fixed his collar. 

“Well. That was rude,” he said, brushing dust from his lapel. “I understand the Young Lady’s fury. But you…” His eyes locked on Feyt. “Who exactly are you?”

I had no intention of answering him.

We rushed him again. I had no hesitation, no moment to pause. Pain and exhaustion didn’t matter. Though my limbs burned, both of my bodies’ rhythms were flawless. Our footfalls echoed as one.

The man raised his eyebrows. “What the—”

He flinched, perhaps from the confusion at the sight of my bodies’ synchronicity. 

““Aaaaghhh!!!”” both of my voices scream in unison.

I tried to swipe him from both sides. One aimed for his neck, the other for his legs. If I were lucky, it would’ve ended right then and there. 

But with high speed, he dropped low and twisted his body, rolling out of range. Once again, our air struck nothing but air. He sprang to his feet and skidded back, eyes narrowed towards us. He landed among all the fallen knights.

He was fast. Faster than I expected for being so muscular. But it was clear to me. The dust on the floor told me everything: he was slightly off-balance when he landed, just shy of slipping. His left arm twitched ever so slightly, the wound clearly causing some pain to him.

He only showed his annoyed face for a brief moment. I noticed him quickly changing his attitude. With a quick widening of his eyes, he stumbled back, raising his hands.

“Hey, let us all be rational about this!” he said in a calm tone. “I’m not here to fight you. I don’t know what you think you saw, but all I’m trying to do is protect you!”

As meaningless words continued to spew out of his mouth, Feyt’s ears caught something. I didn’t know how to describe it, but his words sounded sweet, yet so disgusting at the same time. Just like his fake gentle smile, it disgusted me to the core, perhaps even more so.

“This isn’t how things are supposed to go. I’m sure you two are misunderstanding something. So would you please lower your blades? I’m sure we all want a peaceful conclusion!”

I felt my skin crawl at his comment. It was like his words were trying to burrow their way into my mind. Doing so poorly, I mind you. But still, it disgusted me.

But then I started to piece things together.

This disgusting way of speaking, that gentle tone of voice that felt egregiously welcoming. It all reminded me of the blankness I saw in Mother’s eyes. Not just hers, but Yeremiah and Raymond as well.

I had this theory when I overheard his conversation with Mother in Scented Rose. 

But now that his words were directed to me.

It was direct proof of my theory.

I see…

So… this is how he does it.

I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. The blades stayed up, steady in both hands.

I wasn’t falling for it. In fact, his sorry attempt at an act riled me up even more.

His eyes narrowed as he realized that. His hands lowered.

“Ah, too late for sweet words, I see,” he said, not quite smiling. His eyes scanned the environment around him. “But I guess this isn’t the perfect place to talk. Did you two cause all this?”

As he asked his pointless question, perhaps to catch me off guard, his eyes flicked towards Feyt. And it seemed like he realized something. His smile faltered for a moment.

“You… You’re the kid from the inn,” he said. 

“I see… So that’s why I was ambushed.” He held his head as he chuckled. “Here I was, thinking Reyna had grown a conscience and reported me. For a second, I worried my Talent was slipping.”

And then, his smile came back. But this time, it didn’t feel plastered on. It was less of a smile and more of a smirk. It was sinister, twisted.

He straightened himself, his eyes narrowed into a mocking gaze. 

“Well, no point continuing the act, is there?”

He looked at Carine now. He spread his arms wide like he was about to deliver a sermon.

“Carine Sareid. Allow me to offer you a deal—”

—I was already moving.

I charged forward. He flinched for a moment as my swords came close to him. Using his left forearm as a shield, he deflected both of my swords. 

“Ggh—!”

He clicked his tongue as he pushed us away. Our slash hadn’t wounded him, but it was enough to scare him off. He jumped back, nearly stumbling into the pile of knights around him. He landed on his hands and pushed himself into a flip, landing near the back of the dance hall.

“Listen to an elder while he’s talking, will you?!” he yelled across the room. 

That gentle mocking tone that made him look like he was better than us was all but gone.

Good. The more I chip at his patience, the more sloppy he’ll get.

I stomped forward again, blades whistling through the air. As we approached, I diverged both bodies to opposite sides. 

I struck with both bodies, but not simultaneously. Instead, our slashes alternated like the ticking of a metronome. It was a fast flurry of attack that left no single opening, as both bodies would close each other’s openings at every moment.

When the man dipped under Carine’s blade, Feyt’s was already there to meet his face. When he turned to elbow Feyt, Carine’s sword was moments away from his cheek. He had to stop all his attacks and focus on weaving his body through our blades.

But over time, our bodies began to wear. Fighting both Mother and now this bastard had proved too much. Sensing this, the man slipped inside one of Carine’s swings and punched.

My blade caught the blow, but the force still reverberated down Carine’s arms. My body shuddered as I gritted my teeth from the impact. I fell in as Feyt to launch a counterattack before he could launch a follow-up on Carine.

But he pivoted. He spun to the right towards Feyt.

I swung to intercept, but I was too slow.

He ducked below and caught Feyt’s wrist mid-swing. He twisted it, my face scrunched from the pain.

“Aaagh—!!”

My sword clattered to the ground.

“Got you.”

In a blink, he leapt back, still holding my wrist tightly. I was lifted like baggage as he distanced himself from Carine. Then, amidst the fallen knights, he balanced himself and placed me, Feyt, close to his chest.

One hand still firmly on my wrist, lifting it up. The other hand slithered to my neck, grasping it firmly.

“Don’t move,” he said, flashing a smirk towards Carine through heavy breath.

My bodies froze in horror.

How did this happen? I managed to become my own hostage…

My brains went into overdrive, trying to think of ways to get out of this mess. But his grip on my neck was strong, and any sudden movement from Carine… would likely result in a neck being snapped.

In the end, I could only stop myself from moving to ensure my own safety.

He smiled in response.

“Good. Let’s try this again, shall we?” His voice didn’t bother to be as calm or gentle as before. 

With his grip still tight, he shifted upwards, lifting his chin. “Carine Sareid. Here’s my offer. Come with me willingly, and in return…” 

He lifted me with a slight yank on my wrist, choking me slightly.

“Ggh—!!”

He looked down at Feyt, smirking, then back at Carine/

“…I won’t have to rip apart your little knight.”

My bodies trembled in fear. The situation seemed hopeless. Carine’s body was nowhere near fast enough to outdo his arms. And as Feyt, I couldn’t do anything against his strong grip.

My limbs trembled, all of them.

Noticing this, the man smiled.

“I see you’re understanding your situation a little clearer now. I’m sure you understand that you only have one choice.”

No.

There’s no way I’m submitting to this man.

My eyes glared forward as I grappled with what to do. Carine’s eyes were locked on my own self, being lifted by the man like nothing but a puppet. Then… I noticed something.

A broken vial stood silently beside the man’s boot. Inside it, a small clump of yellow dust.

My eyes widened slightly.

…

I breathed in. Then breathed out.

I lowered my stance and my sword. I glared at the man before me and forced myself to speak.

“…If I come with you,” I said, my voice low and tight. “You’ll let him go?”

He studied me with his eyes. Then, with his smirk faintly fading, he nodded. “Of course.”

“…You won’t back down on your word, will you?”

He scoffed, then chuckled. “A gentleman never backs down from his words.”

After a moment of silence, I let my sword fall to the marble floor with a loud metallic clatter.

As Feyt, I thrashed slightly, panicked. “Carine, no! Don’t listen to him—! Ack—!”

His grip tightened on my throat, silencing me.

“Hey, shut up. Your girl is doing her best for you. At least appreciate her kindness.”

“Stop! Let him go already!” I cried out as Carine.

He stared at me for a moment longer before loosening his grip on both my wrists and neck. I was dropped like a trash bag, my body crumpled as it gasped for air.

“There. Happy?”

Reluctantly, I made my way over to him as Carine. 

“COUGH COUGH”

I was still coughing as Feyt, my coughs intentionally loud as my hand reached for something on the ground.

I was face-to-face with ‘Sebastian’. I looked up to meet his face, glaring at his eyes, his smile not quite reaching them.

He extended his arm slowly, reaching for my shoulder. But before he could, I raised my voice.

“Hey!” I yelled as Feyt.

“Hmm?” he turned around to face me.

That moment was all I needed. I flung the vial onto his face. It struck him at the nose, and a small yellow mist exploded around it.

“—!!” He stumbled back from the surprise.

Using that opening, I spun as Feyt, kicking over a nearby fallen sword to Carine’s feet and grabbing one for myself. The sword skidded over to Carine’s side. I stomped on its hilt, lifting it into the air. I grabbed it mid-fall.

He reeled back, coughing violently as the paralyzing agent worked its way through his nostrils. It wasn’t as much as the one Mother was faced with, but it should be enough to slow him down a tad.

“You—!” he growled, his hands rising to wipe his eyes. “What did you throw at my face—?!”

“Hmph,” I scoffed as Carine. “Just some paralytic agent. Better choke on it.”

“Why you—!”

He reached out with his hands, but then he stumbled over his own foot.

I couldn’t help but smirk.

I fought through the pain. This was it, the final push.

‘Sebastian’ was blinking rapidly now, trying to track our movements through the stinging dust in his eyes. 

He caught Feyt’s first swing. Carine’s next. But his blocks were sloppier and slower. Not because he didn’t know how, but because he couldn’t move like he used to. The paralytic was creeping in, and we pressed the assault with all we had left.

Our blades swirled around him like gusts of storm; one attacking, the other closing gaps, then switching in an unrelenting rhythm. I didn’t waste any steps. Nor did I waste any effort.

Every swing and every slash was wearing ‘Sebastian’ or whatever his name was down bit by bit.

“Damn kids—!” he growled once more.

He ducked low to avoid a swing, and my eyes and ears caught what he was trying to do. A desperate punch to gain some footing.

Not on my watch, you ain’t.

I stepped back, both of us. Then, I twisted my bodies to deliver a kick. He shifted his stance to block it, but it was enough to make him stumble back; his footing failed as his legs trembled.

This is it!

Both bodies moved in one motion.

My blades raised high.

My momentum was building up.

Then—

—A simultaneous slash from above, perfectly mirrored. The blades met not in the center, but across his face in a devastating, gruesome X shape, trailing down from temple to jaw.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHH—!!”

Blood exploded from his face, spraying downward like a fountain.

“AGH—! MY FACE! MY FAAAACEE—!!”

His primal, guttural screams echoed across the dance hall. One hand slapped over the left side of his face, the other scrambling under it, frantically trying to catch the blood that poured between his fingers.

“NO! NO, NO, NO, NOO!!”

He staggered back, then he tripped over a fallen knight.

He landed back with a loud thud. His elegance and bravado were nowhere to be found. He was reduced to a mere whimpering old man. 

I took the opportunity to catch my breath. My bodies were starting to give out after so much exertion. But I wouldn’t let up just yet.

I watched as the poor bastard desperately tried to suppress his wound. But it was no use. His only eye left flickered all over the place, gazing at all the blood he was losing. He whimpered more as he realized how grave his situation was.

Then… I noticed him pulling out a piece of paper from his inner pocket. The same one I noticed before. He raised it high with his bloodied hand, and the parchment began to glow. Now that it was out in the open, I could see the sigil clearly.

And my blood ran cold.

The sigil was small, an icon with unknown symbols encircling it. But then, reading those symbols using Carine’s eyes, my mind was telling me what it would do.

—He’s teleporting somewhere!

No! I won’t let him!!

I rushed forward, but my legs gave out from exhaustion. Both of me collapsed on the ground, hitting the marble with a thud.

With one last whimper. That whimpering old bastard’s body glowed, and in a blink…

…he was gone.

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