Chapter 348 348: The Small Inn and The White Shadow (4)
What happens in Chapter 540 of "Rise of the Lustful Evil Monarch (Re)"? Third Person's POVAs for Victor, he was either oblivious or deliberately provocative as he tilted... Read on to find out!
Third Person's POV
As for Victor, he was either oblivious or deliberately provocative as he tilted his head and smirked.
"Do you know who she is, Virelle?"
His voice was casual, but the curiosity and desire within it were genuine.
Virelle offered a slow shake of her head, and her lips formed a perfectly shaped denial while her scarlet eyes turned cold.
Victor's brow rose in mock disbelief.
"Strange. I thought you would know, considering Eryndor is... well, a close friend of yours."
The sentence dangled with implication and was heavy enough to draw a few raised brows. His tone wasn't mocking, but the message was sharp enough to cut.
Virelle's expression didn't flinch, but her tone turned razor-thin.
"Why would I know who his friends are, brother? And it would be better if you didn't make such irresponsible comments in front of strangers."
Her voice was laced with restrained fury, each word carefully measured but burning at the edges.
Victor blinked and was genuinely taken aback by the depth of her anger.
For a moment, he reevaluated everything he thought he knew about his sister's relationship with the crimson-eyed boy. Had he misjudged her? Misread their closeness?
Still, her calm exterior held. And under its deceptive sheen, Lucien's brooding expression softened slightly.
Perhaps, he was convinced by her performance, as the venom in his gaze dulled.
But beside Virelle in her shadow and unnoticed by either man, Velcy stood quiet and still with her scarred face impassive, and her grayish-blue eyes sharp.
She knew the truth behind everything here, and unlike Virelle, she had been keeping a close eye on the brooding Lucien as she acutely sensed the animosity in him toward her Brother Ethan.
Without anyone instructing or training her, Velcy had embraced her role with instinctive perfection, just as Nyx had long foreseen.
Years ago, Nyx had planted the seed of this purpose in the girl's heart and nurtured it subtly in anticipation of a future she could not change.
Nyx had known from the beginning that she wouldn't always be able to watch over her beloved disciple herself at all times, and that bitter truth had led her to make a difficult yet resolute decision.
Upon uncovering the truth of Velcy's origins and the reality of her identity, which even the little girl was unaware of, Nyx chose to shape her into the one shadow Ethan would never be without.
A shadow born not out of darkness, but loyalty and quiet love, one that would one day stun Ethan with the depth of its meaning.
Under the golden gleam of sunlight, Nyx gently pulled Ethan out of the quiet inn and began striding toward the dense emerald forest ahead.
As they walked on the warm grass, the cool air stirred around them, while birds called in the distance.
After walking a few steps, she loosened her hold on his arm, while her fingers brushed his skin before falling away, and she whispered with a knowing calmness,
"Follow me…"
Before Ethan could ask what she meant, her figure blurred and shimmered and then vanished completely like morning mist under the sun.
For a heartbeat, he froze with a startled gaze, but his instincts surged to the forefront, and the sharp glint in his crimson eyes darkened like wine.
In an instant, his world shifted into monochrome, formed of only light and shadow splaying into stark contrasts.
Darkness pooled in crevices and behind trees, while the sky bled into shades of ash.
It was amidst this reformed world that he glimpsed a faint flicker of darkness darting between trees in a fleeting and fluid manner.
Fixing his gaze, he narrowed his pupils and melted into the shade like ink dissolving in water.
His form blurred and slipped into darkness itself as he chased after the figure like smoke drawn to flame.
Just as the two disappeared into the veil of trees, a moment later, a new presence quietly unfurled behind them.
A white silhouette emerged from the shaded edge of the inn and drifted like a wraith upon the breeze.
There was no sound to her steps and no weight, but only a graceful movement like moonlight upon snow.
Wisps of pure white hair fluttered around her in the cool wind while her flowing silvery white garments shimmered with a soft, ethereal glow.
The ghost-like figure paused exactly where Ethan and Nyx had stood mere seconds ago.
Beneath her white hood, a smooth, porcelain chin peeked out—so flawlessly sculpted that it defied comparison, as if carved from moonstone by divine hands while a pair of red lips curved into a quietly amused smile.
She looked not of this world as she was too delicate, and too pure to be true.
Yet fate allowed no audience to behold this breathtaking sight, and with a faint, melodic giggle, her whisper scattered into the air like wind-chimes swaying in the breeze,
"Interesting… Now, I am even more intrigued. It seems my journey here wasn't wasted after all…"
As Ethan followed Nyx deeper into the forest, he moved like a shadow slipping between shadows.
Leaves crackled faintly beneath his boots, but the wind carried the sound away.
Snakes slithered through brush, and unseen predators stirred in the undergrowth, but none sensed his presence as he was like an ethereal, silent shadow streaking after Nyx.
Soon, the trees parted to reveal a vast sapphire lake that glistened under the afternoon sun.
The water's surface shimmered like liquid glass, and a soft wind stirred gentle ripples that danced across it.
He instantly recognized it; it was none other than the grand blue lake he had glimpsed from atop the mountain gate.
Caught off guard by the breathtaking view, he faltered for the briefest moment, but high above him, something unseen and unknown twitched.
A faint pop sounded, and a flicker of movement barely brighter than a flash of sunlight on a blade was released in the air.
Ethan had no time to even discover the aura or the presence of the attacker, and his body hardened by years of battle moved before thought.