Chapter 38: A Good Actress, Perhaps? (2/2)?She loomed over the crumpled holy knight, her shadow swallowing him in the chamber's sickly light, distorting and elongating across the blood-slick floor. ?Her hands, which had trembled with helplessness only moments before, were now steady as stone, the raw wounds at her wrists momentarily forgotten as rage overrode pain.?"You," she rasped, her voice a discordant melody of gravel and broken gss, each sylble catching and tearing like fabric on barbed wire. ?She crouched, bringing her face inches from the knight's.?"Did you enjoy the show? Did you watch as my father burned?" Each word seemed to draw more of the bluish mana to her horn, making it pulse with an internal light that cast macabre shadows across her features.?For a heartbeat, she waited—perhaps foolishly, hoping for some flicker of guilt or shame in the man's battered face. ?Silence answered her, broken only by the soft drip-drip-drip of blood from the boratory shelves above, where a fsk had been knocked askew during the earlier fight. ?The knight was already unconscious, his chest barely rising and falling beneath his dented breastpte; even if Aviara did nothing, he would soon die from blood loss, his life seeping away into the cracks between the stones.?"Hah!" A bitter ugh, sharp and broken, slipped between her fangs, the sound echoing off the vaulted ceiling like shattered gss. ?"No clever prayers for me tonight? No righteous scripture for the daughter of the damned?" She cocked her head, bck hair falling across her face like a death shroud, as if genuinely waiting, then sneered. The expression transformed her features, making her seem more beast than woman. "Saints must be heavy sleepers. Or is it just easier when your victims can't scream?"?"HAARG!"?With a roar of rage that shook dust from the copper pipes overhead, she punched—her arm moving so quickly it blurred in Lucien's enhanced vision. ?BANG!?The knight's head bent and was smmed, buried into the ground below by her bare hand with a sickening crunch of metal, bone, and stone. ?Blood and other matter sprayed outward in a grotesque halo, spattering her tattered dress and the surrounding floor. The impact sent vibrations through the stone beneath Lucien's feet, rattling the gss bottles on the nearby shelves.?Wow... Lucien genuinely shocked by her strength.?As for any hint of remorse? Any lingering trace of humanity for a fellow human? That had long since vanished from Lucien.?Not just because he was a monster, but because these people were disgusting—their self-righteous cruelty deserving of neither mercy nor regret.?"We were just a peaceful family, you know," she continued, blood dripping from her clenched fist in slow, viscous droplets that pattered against the stone floor like grotesque rainfall. ?Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper that was more chilling than any scream, the sound slithering through the chamber's damp air.?"Not only did my father tell me not to hurt humans, he also said that humans are actually kind people.." She leaned in, her single horn casting a shadow across the knight's ruined face as her cheek brushed his, the intimate gesture a mockery of tenderness. ?Her breath—hot and metallic with rage—fogged the polished surface of his dented helmet as her voice became a wind of secrets. "But when you guys came and captured him…” she held her breathe, then,"He told me—don't cry, sweetie. But I did. I cried until my throat hurt. Did you see? Did you even care?"?A single, thick tear, dark as congealed blood, welled up in her reptilian eye and traced a slow, glistening path down her cheek, catching the amber light from the twisted metal chandelier overhead. ?The crimson droplet trembled at her chin for a moment, suspended, before nding with a soft pat on the knight's pale face.?"My mother... she begged for mercy." Her voice cracked on the word, a momentary fissure in her wall of rage. ?"She devoted herself to the church! She pleaded, and you all just watched. Was that merciful?" She blinked hard, the motion sending another blood-tear tracking down her opposite cheek, battling the memory as her body bent inward, her shoulders curling with grief like wilting petals. ?But—?BANG!?Once again, she punched—this time at the knight's abdomen—and, surprisingly, even the white armor could not withstand her blow. ?CRACK!?It bent inward with the sickening sound of ribs breaking, a wet crunch that reverberated through the underground chamber. ?Bone fragments pierced organs beneath, a mortal wound delivered with terrible efficiency. ?The impact sent a shockwave across the floor that disturbed the dust, creating ghostly patterns in the air around them. ?"Her eyes found me in the crowd, and I... I couldn't breathe. Not while she—" She bit off the words, a choked sob tearing from her throat, raw and agonizing, the sound of something vital being ripped away. ?Her shoulders shook violently, her single horn catching the light with each tremor, sending fractured reflections dancing across the walls like desperate spirits.?But the grief became fuel, transformed in the crucible of her rage. ?Lucien could almost see it happening, the alchemy of emotion visible in the tightening of her powerful frame, the stilling of her trembling hands. The flicker of sorrow was instantly consumed by a far greater fire, leaving only ash and purpose in its wake. ?Her expression hardened, features sharpening like a bde being honed, the pain crystallizing into cold, terrifying purpose. ?She remembered then—the words of her savior, the tall vampire man watching from the side with those burning red eyes that missed nothing... Revenge. ?When she finished with the knight, she turned toward Branks—the unconscious man whose face was still swollen and purpling from Lucien's earlier sp, his weathered features now sck in unconsciousness. ?Eventually, she cried and punched again and again, each blow punctuated by a guttural sob that echoed off the stone walls of the boratory. ?BANG!?BANG!?Her fists rose and fell in a terrible rhythm, spttering blood across the gss cylinders, copper pipes, and her own body until both men were dead—each with a gaping hole in his abdomen and his face buried, even pierced deep into the ground, creating twin craters in the stone floor. ?Fresh blood pooled around them, mixing with the older stains, turning the boratory floor into a macabre mosaic of violence.?The half-ogre woman, Aviara, her long, ink-bck hair now streaked with crimson ribbons that glistened wetly in the phosphorescent light, stood trembling. ?Her muscles quivered from exertion and emotion, her hands dripping red onto her tattered dress. The veins in her forearms stood out like blue ropes beneath her translucent skin, pulsing with adrenaline and rage. ?Her mouth, still stretched wide and showing two protruding fangs from her lower lip, opened in a cry. ?Yet this cry was different from before—a cry from a grown woman, raw and final, filled with bottled suffering finally uncorked. ?The cry didn't st long before she looked up and approached Lucien, her bare feet leaving bloody footprints across the stone floor. ?"T-thank you, my lord," she said earnestly, her voice hoarse and ragged from screaming. The remnants of her sobs faded as her trembling shoulders slowly stilled. ?Blood-tears had dried on her cheeks in rust-colored tracks, giving her the appearance of a warrior marked for battle. "I... I have nothing else to give now. My strength, my life—if you'll have them, they're yours."?Lucien, watching her, smiled—a genuine expression that softened his predatory features momentarily. ?His red eyes glowed more gently in the chamber's dim light, the slitted pupils widening slightly. "No, there's no need to go to such lengths, just—" ?He paused, his ears twitching visibly beneath his long hair, head tilting slightly as his enhanced senses detected the faint smell of gunpowder and the rising sound of voices mumbling above. His nostrils fred, taking in the scent, his body tensing like a bowstring being drawn.?"Just become my guide, will you?" ?"Ah?" Aviara's eyes widened and she blinked, blood-crusted shes fluttering against her cheeks, baffled. ?Her yellowish pupils dited in surprise as she stared at her tall, towering savior, her mouth slightly agape, revealing the tips of her retreating fangs. ?Lucien, who had spoken with a smile, now frowned, his ears twitching again as the sounds from above grew clearer—the commotion of boots scraping against floorboards, urgent whispers, and most unmistakably, the acrid smell of gunpowder growing stronger. ?But, his frown slowly faded, repced by a half-curved, mocking smile and a grim expression that made his eyes fsh like embers in a dying fire.?Did they finally notice? he wondered, narrowing his eyes at the entrance to the underground passage. ?Trap. ?With the cries and commotion caused by this half-ogre woman—Aviara—and now a gunshot, it was more than enough for them to realize something was wrong. ?So the question was: should he walk into the trap? Or just...