[House Karzath — Lady Arinaya’s Chamber — Continuation]

Silence crashed across the chamber, a deadly silence. The kind is born only when predators suddenly realize their prey was never truly dead.

Lady Arinaya stood near her bed, alive; her long golden hair remained untied, falling heavily across her shoulders like flowing blood beneath lantern light.

One hand held the sword steadily. The other still remained extended slightly from throwing the dagger moments ago; blood slowly dripped from her fingertips where the blade had cut her skin lightly during the throw.

Yet despite that, her presence remained cold, strong, and unshaken, and meanwhile, Azhrakaal no longer looked amused; not only was he wincing in pain, but also his black eyes had widened slightly in genuine shock.

Meanwhile, on the shattered marble floor, Rakhane coughed violently while clutching his bruised throat, breathing harshly. Crimson eyes still burning murderously upward toward Azhrakaal, but Arinaya ignored both of them completely.

Her cold gaze remained fixed entirely upon the Black Serpent King. "...you truly should have confirmed my death first."

Silence filled the chamber afterward, heavy and venomous silence. Azhrakaal slowly lowered his gaze toward the dagger still embedded deep within his tail.

Black blood continued dripping heavily across the marble floor.

Then suddenly he laughed softly and low. Beautifully unhinged.

"...impressive, Lady Arinaya." His black eyes slowly lifted toward her again, and despite the pain, a dangerous smile still curved his lips. "I understand now...why you were chosen as heir of this house Karza—"

"Oh..." Arinaya cut him off instantly. "Shut your nasty, poisonous mouth."

Azhrakaal visibly flinched, but not from fear but from surprise because very few serpents dared interrupt him that way.

Then slowly Arinaya stepped closer, sword still resting in her grip, her crimson eyes meeting his black ones directly without hesitation and without fear as her voice lowered sharply.

"You...killed Serath-min and wandered freely through my house wearing another face." The chamber grew colder instantly as her dangerous smile appeared slowly. "And then...you believed you could kill me?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Rakhane suddenly chuckled behind her, low and breathless and almost proud.

Arinaya’s gaze sharpened further.

"I have never witnessed a more foolish king."

For one brief moment, Azhrakaal genuinely looked stunned, then suddenly his expression darkened as his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"How...how are you still—"

"Alive?" Arinaya cut him off instantly, and then she laughed softly and cruelly and titler her head slightly. "Because, you idiot...that poisoned comb never touched me."

Azhrakaal froze. "...what?"

"That’s correct." Arinaya calmly lowered the sword afterward as her crimson gaze darkened thoughtfully. "Before the comb reached my scalp...the maid carrying it suddenly fainted."

Silence.

"And the moment the comb fell..." She slowly lifted her bloodied fingertips. "... I smelled the poison."

Rakhane’s visible eye widened slightly. Even he had not known. Arinaya glanced toward her brother.

"So...I decided to use the opportunity instead." Her gaze returned toward Azhrakaal, cold and sharp again. "I wanted to discover what exactly was happening inside my house."

Rakhane suddenly laughed quietly from the floor, still coughing between breaths as he wiped blood from his lips.

"...indeed, she possesses more intelligence than I do."

Azhrakaal’s black eyes twitched slightly afterward. Then suddenly he smiled dangerously again.

Black serpent pheromones spread through the chamber again, dark, rotting, and violent.

"If poison failed..." His forked tongue slid slowly across sharp fangs. "...then I shall simply kill both siblings here instead—"

AAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!

Suddenly Azhrakaal screamed.

The chamber trembled violently, black blood exploded further from his wounded tail, and when he looked downward, his black eyes widened. Blue and crimson magic had begun spreading around the wound where Arinaya’s dagger struck him.

Ancient symbols glowed violently, like chains or like shackles. The magic wrapped slowly around his tail, burning, tightening, and binding.

And for the first time, real pain crossed Azhrakaal’s face.

"Did you truly believe..." Arinaya stepped forward slowly. "... I came unprepared."

Azhrakaal hissed violently, trying to rip away the magical bindings, but the more he moved, the tighter the chains became.

"That dagger..." Arinaya’s crimson eyes gleamed coldly. "...was blessed with Lord Urzan’s authority."

Azhrakaal’s eyes widened instantly.

"A mere black serpent like you cannot—"

GRABBBBB!!!!

Suddenly Azhrakaal lunged forward, his hand wrapped violently around Arinaya’s throat.

"You—"

But then he froze because his strength was weakening rapidly. The magical shackles tightened further around his tail, burning through black scales and destroying his balance.

Azhrakaal looked downward in disbelief, then back toward Arinaya, and for the first time that night, his expression held genuine alarm.

Immediately he released her.

THUD!!!!

Arinaya stumbled backward, coughing sharply. Meanwhile Azhrakaal violently slid toward the shattered balcony.

"NO—!" Rakhane roared while forcing himself upward. "That bastard dies tonight—!"

But before he could chase Arinaya, Sharply grabbed his arm.

"It is useless."

Rakhane froze, breathing harshly as her voice lowered grimly.

"No ordinary serpent can kill the Black Serpent King... you already know that."

Rakhane’s jaw tightened violently.

"But that dagger..."

Arinaya looked toward the fading magical chains silently, and then finally she sighed. "...that was merely ordinary divine energy granted by Lord Sharukh."

Silence.

Rakhane stared at her. Arinaya’s crimson eyes darkened afterward. "The shackles were temporary; I only created fear."

And outside the shattered balcony, the desert winds howled violently because somewhere beyond House Karzath, the wounded Black Serpent King was still alive.

And now he had finally found enemies worthy of remembering.

Then suddenly Arinaya smirked softly, almost amused, as her crimson gaze darkened slightly. "But...today I learned something rather useful."

Rakhane glanced toward her, still rubbing his bruised throat irritably.

"That idiot king possesses an extremely fragile ego." A dangerous smile curved her lips. "He becomes very easy to provoke."

Then she tilted her head slightly thoughtfully as a faint mocking hum escaped her.

"I suppose...all self-centered men suffer from this disease."

And finally, she looked directly toward Rakhane. "Correct?"

Silence. Then Rakhane scoffed loudly as he rolled his visible crimson eye irritably.

"Continue mocking me all you desire. Just escort me to my chamber first." He touched the bruises around his throat with annoyance. "That bastard nearly crushed my neck."

Arinaya smirked faintly afterward. Then quietly, almost to herself, she murmured, "I must report every detail of this matter to Malik and Malika immediately...as soon as they come."

And somewhere far away beneath imperial desert winds, another pair of royal serpents discussed the same nightmare.

***

[Meanwhile — Imperial Tent — Same Night]

The imperial encampment had grown unusually silent; even the blue serpent flames surrounding the tents burned lower tonight.

As though the entire desert itself sensed something ancient had returned. Outside the imperial tent, two knights whispered nervously beneath flickering lantern light.

"Did you see him...?" One whispered shakily. "...... was that truly—"

"Silence." The second knight immediately hissed. "Malika approaches."

Immediately, both guards straightened. Then Levin entered the imperial tent quietly, his pale robes still carrying traces of battle dust while moonlight spilled softly across his hair.

And inside the tent, Zeramet stood near the open window, silent and still, looking outward into the endless desert night.

Levin stepped closer carefully. Then softly he spoke: "I was informed our knights, the high mage, and both captains shall return by tomorrow morning. The village is nearly healed."

But Zeramet did not answer immediately, and somehow that silence worried Levin more than anger ever could.

So quietly Levin stepped behind him. Then gently placed his hand against Zeramet’s shoulder as his voice softened further.

"Zer, are you alright?"

For several moments, Zeramet remained silent, still staring into the desert darkness beyond the tent. Then finally—quietly—he murmured, "...I buried his body myself."

Levin froze slightly.

"With my own hands." Zeramet’s golden eyes darkened faintly beneath lantern light. "And I sealed the grave personally."

The atmosphere inside the tent shifted instantly, heavier and colder as Zeramet’s jaw tightened slightly. "A seal, not magic...nor evil serpent, should ever be capable of breaking."

Levin furrowed as his blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Then...how did he return?"

Silence.

Then finally, Zeramet exhaled softly, almost tiredly. "Because Slyvarakh possessed something no imperial serpent should ever possess."

Levin waited quietly, and then Zeramet finally said it.

"...witchcraft."

The lantern flames flickered violently.

Levin’s eyes widened faintly afterward because even hearing that word inside Zahryssar felt cursed, forbidden, and wrong.

"No emperor..." Zeramet’s voice lowered dangerously. "...nor should a high mage ever possess witchcraft."

His golden eyes darkened further, cold and ancient now as his hand slowly clenched against the windowsill.

"And now that he has returned...he will undoubtedly attempt—"

But suddenly he stopped completely because there were words even Zeramet struggled to speak.

Then finally, almost to himself, he whispered:

"...I must kill him again."

Silence filled the tent afterward.

Heavy and painful silence. Then gently Levin held his hand, warm fingers wrapping around colder ones.

"You are exhausted; let’s take a rest."

Zeramet finally looked toward him, and the moment he did, something dangerous shifted within the emperor’s gaze: possessive and territorial.

Almost unstable, then suddenly he pulled Levin hard against him. Levin barely had time to react before strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Holding him close enough to feel Zeramet’s uneven breathing.

"My moonflower..." Zeramet’s voice lowered near his ear, dangerously soft as his grip around Levin tightened slightly and dangerously possessive. "I will go to any length for you. If anyone...dares attempt to taking you away from me..."

The imperial pheromones inside the tent became overwhelming instantly, violent, ancient, and terrifying. Then quietly with terrifying sincerity—

Zeramet whispered:

"...I will burn entire kingdoms."

Levin visibly furrowed his brow in confusion because he still did not fully understand why Zeramet sounded this dangerous tonight.

Why Slyvarakh’s return disturbed him this deeply, and why Zeramet is speaking in this way. But even then, Levin asked nothing. Instead, he simply rested one hand gently against Zeramet’s back.

Patting him softly and comfortingly, for the first time since Slyvarakh returned, the emperor finally closed his eyes.

Holding Levin tighter—as though letting go even once might cost him everything.