Chapter 47: Artifact

Four people died.

During the night, when some cowered in their chambers while others felt safe enough to lower their guard, a mysterious assailant struck the Zheng clan, killing four.

The culprit seemed obvious. The Zheng clan swiftly concluded that the Kugo clan was responsible. Still, they couldn’t act.

V was their family’s shame and pride, both, despite everything, he was a Zheng, corrupted by their own teachings. Until his sins were pardoned, the Zheng family could engage in no violence.

This was exactly what she wanted. Her mind and soul belonged to the Vey family, and now her deep purple eyes showed no emotion whatsoever, yet she wore a chilling smile that betrayed her malice.

“I still don’t get it… I’ve asked many times, but you never tell me. Why do you serve the Vey family?”

Word of last night’s killings had spread through the academy like wildfire. Everyone was talking about it. No one suspected Purple, of course, but that didn’t stop Scar from growing paranoid, particularly with the way Julien had been acting ever since he’d heard.

Yes, Julien had forfeited his third duel and would face the inevitable penalty. But that alone didn’t explain why he looked this troubled. Each duel loss carried a penalty.

Scar hadn’t been there for Julien’s first, but they’d served the second one together, surveying Barbados’ border. That assignment had gone smoothly, nothing out of the ordinary.

Sigh.

Julien remained on his bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, giving no sign he’d heard Scar speak.

Scar wasn’t done. Julien could be quiet outside these walls all he wanted, but within their room, they’d always been cheerful. Scar wasn’t about to let the bastard make everything grim.

“Sad we haven’t dueled yet? Blame our punishments. I’m not sure you’ll get your big penalty tonight, so why not duel me? Uncle’s probably itching to watch.”

After a stretching silence, Julien turned to Scar.

“I need Purple, but she doesn’t need me nearly as much. That makes me question… why keep me around? We made an agreement, but it wasn’t sealed with blood. What’s she really up to?”

Scar frowned.

He didn’t understand why Julien would serve someone he didn’t trust. Honestly, though, Scar had his suspicions.

Scar had a few memories of the Vey family. They thrived on conspiracies, from what he remembered. He didn’t understand what they got out of it, but they seemed to crave being the subject of gossip, keeping their names in people’s mouths.

Could it help their souls flourish? Strengthen the Thread of Souls? Scar had no answers.

But he was certain Purple had the same goal: making the Vey family matter again. Whatever advantage Julien’s presence gave her, it was connected to that, it had to be.

CHU

“She’s Purple, the head of the Vey family. Managing a family on the brink of collapse is no small task, and with enemies everywhere, I’m sure she needs you.”

Julien wasn’t pleased with Scar’s words, yet he wore a pale smile.

“Have you ever imagined something in this world that could strip a human of their soul? While using it, you breathe and bleed like a human, yet your soul is completely gone. You’re not immortal, and yet you cannot die by normal means. You become a soulless god… can that even be called a god? No feelings, only laughter—giggling at lost limbs, chuckling through tears. Could you believe in such a thing? Could you carry it?”

Scar’s expression darkened in wariness.

Julien spoke with too much detail for this to be conjecture, and his voice carried too much distance to promise any further explanation.

He exhaled.

Whatever the truth was, Scar decided not to press. Julien clearly needed support at the moment, not more probing questions.

“I’d use it. I mean, immortality perks, right? I’d be busy dismantling Adisa piece by piece… lucky me, Dain’s up next.”

Finally, Julien wore a soft smile.

Scar’s eyes squinted.

“A thing like that? Definitely not easy to get. If I owned it, I wouldn’t give it out without making them struggle a bit. Even if I wanted to, I’d make them earn it.”

There it was. That was exactly what Julien had wanted to hear.

As if a switch had flipped, Julien’s face lit up with his usual brightness. The energy returned, and they slipped back into their familiar banter.

“Honestly, I know nothing about your Inheritance, but shouldn’t you be looking into it? Vortex is unbearable, and I don’t think even your Uncle Arthur could deal with him so easily.”

Scar sneered.

“You talk like Vortex is killable. Uncle can’t touch it. That scar on his left eye? Yep, Vortex did that. Supposedly, my father blabbed about someone’s Inheritance, and the whole mess is bizarre. Anyway, Arthur dives in to save him… and ends up with his eye slashed. Classic.”

Hmph.

“For now, I won’t touch my Inheritance. Dain wants me dead because of it… probably because of what it truly is. Knowing it now would only confirm why I’m meant to die—and that’s more than I can handle at the moment.”

No. That couldn’t be his fate.

He didn’t want to discover he’d been marked for death, not when his parents had sacrificed everything for him to live. He couldn’t bear the thought that his enemies might have been justified.

Julien met Scar with a smile, completely sidestepping his previous words. Instead, he asked about the defeat of Vortex and how Scar’s father and uncle had survived the attack. It was a topic Scar was eager to discuss.

Evening approached. They should’ve been heading to the Rover estate by now, having already missed three nights of Arthur’s training.

It had been impossible to coordinate schedules ever since Purple declined to duel Scar, even though she’d been ordered to. But tonight, all three were finally free at the same time.

Purple let herself into their room without knocking. At this point, she was practically their third roommate. Just as they were about to settle in, though, Arthur’s message arrived: mandatory rest for everyone, with special emphasis on Scar.

“Scar, I need you at your strongest. If you’re not, it’ll end up a mess.” he emphasized.

Though delivered by someone else, the message didn’t sound like his uncle at all. The doting uncle Scar knew would hardly phrase things this way.

A heavy dread settled over him as two possibilities crystallized in his mind: either he was about to face something terrible, or his uncle was.

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