The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 289

Ariana didn’t answer—her blade hissed as she parried a surprise thrust from behind. The figure melded into the forest as if born from its darkness, reappearing behind her.

Too slow.

Ariana spun and brought her blade down, sparks igniting as metal shrieked against metal. The impact crushed a layer of bark from the tree behind them. She pressed forward, forcing the cloaked figure to step back—then kicked out, catching him in the ribs and sending him sprawling into the undergrowth.

Another emerged. Then two more.

Kael ducked under a sweeping slash, the assailant flipping over a low-hanging branch to land behind him. Kael didn’t turn. He kicked backward, catching the man’s knee. The assailant staggered, and Kael turned in that breathless second, delivering a vicious elbow to the man’s chin.

Crash.

A thick branch snapped as the attacker flew through it, groaning but still alive.

One came from the left.

Another from the trees.

Ariana’s breath came steady as she flipped her sword into a reverse grip. She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, sensing air pressure, movement, heat—

Whsssh.

She spun, slashing through a branch—and blood sprayed as her blade kissed flesh. The cloaked attacker dropped, clutching his shoulder.

Kael’s movements were sharp, reactive. He listened more than he saw, each rustle and creak a code.

One attacker burst out behind a fallen log, knife gleaming.

Kael grabbed a broken limb from the forest floor and hurled it like a spear. It struck the attacker mid-leap, throwing him into the dirt with a sharp grunt.

"Trained assassina." Kael murmured. He wasn’t even breathing hard now.

Another dart flew past Ariana’s cheek, nicking her skin.

She didn’t flinch—her eyes found the shadow in the tree above and she leapt.

A single step off a slanted root, one spin, and she was airborne. Her blade slashed clean through the air and struck the branch.

Crack.

The attacker fell with the limb, stunned. Before he could recover, Ariana landed and placed her boot on his chest, blade to throat.

"Enough."

The remaining attackers, realizing their formation was shredded and their mobility countered, hesitated. One turned to flee, but Kael flicked a thread of aura—dark and snaking like a whip—and snagged his leg. He dropped, tangled in roots as Kael yanked him toward them.

Silence settled in.

Cloaks torn, weapons scattered, the shadowy attackers were bound with rope Kael had stashed beneath his coat. Ariana knelt, tying their wrists with practiced efficiency, her face unreadable.

Kael stood over them, brushing dirt off his gloves.

"Now you won’t tell me you’re from Darkflag, right?"

The men said nothing. Even under pain, even with defeat, they held fast—heads lowered, eyes hidden under hoods. One coughed, but not a word passed.

Kael’s brow furrowed. He crouched beside the quietest of them and tapped his cheek—not harsh, but warning.

"You were the real team. The others were decoys. You don’t help,you don’t talk." He stared hard at the masked face. "So what do I do with you?"

A cold wind stirred the trees. Leaves fluttered down like falling ash.

Ariana, who had been scanning their cloaks, knelt suddenly by one unconscious man. Her eyes were fixed on a symbol faintly burned into the fabric—an intricate knot of silver threads woven beneath the hem.

Her expression shifted. Calm, but edged with something old. Familiar.

"I know them."

Kael turned, surprised.

"What?"

Ariana’s voice was quieter now.

"These are reconnaissance shadows... from the Eastern Vale."

Kael’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Ariana nodded with certainty. "They’re trained to infiltrate and vanish. But only high-ranking nobles can afford them."

Kael stood still for a moment, the tension coiling tighter across his shoulders. Then, slowly, he turned to the bound men—his gaze now carrying a far colder weight.

"I’m even more interested in who’s watching us."

Ariana’s eyes lingered on one of the cloaked figures. Her expression changed.

"Grab that one," she said, pointing. "I want to see what he’s carrying."

Kael blinked. "You giving me orders now?"

But Ariana ignored his comment and nudged him again, calmly insistent.

Kael muttered under his breath, annoyed.

’What the hell? When did I become your lackey... Tsk... whatever.’

With a low growl, he yanked the man up by his collar. The captive tried to yell, but Kael shoved a cloth in his mouth and tossed him hard onto the ground. The others began writhing, protesting, but Kael kicked one back with ease.

Rummaging through the scout’s belongings, Kael pulled out pouches and hidden folds of fabric—revealing cold twin daggers, vials of antidotes and toxins, encrypted notes, and a small black token with silver etchings—two crossed daggers over a crescent moon.

Ariana stepped forward and looked at it with a sharp intake of breath.

"That token... I knew it."

Her voice dropped low.

"They’re from the Assassination Tower. But no... more likely, they’re being directed by Vale Raven."

Kael paused—his eyes flicking back as the name clicked in his memory. A smirk crept over his lips.

"Oh... I remember now. That ’hero’ who tried acting clever around my bitchy fiancée."

At that moment—the air shifted.

The forest stilled.

A coldness spread like ink spilled in water. Every tree, every leaf, seemed to freeze in place.

Ariana suddenly felt her throat tighten, her body stiffening as though something monstrous stood behind her.

She turned—and gasped.

A black mist had wrapped around Kael’s body like a cloak. His skin darkened into a coal-like hue, and a blood-red grin spread across his face—not of joy, but madness.

The bound men began to tremble.

One knight nearby dropped his weapon. "W-What kind of demonic phenomenon is this...?"

Kael’s eyes were hollow, void of all empathy.

"I thought... maybe I’d let them go," he whispered, voice like a distant wind. "But now..."

"You heard where we’re from!" one of the bound men yelled, trying to sound brave. "You shouldn’t dare touch us! You’ll be finished—!"

SWISH!

The words died mid-air.

A silence fell—so sudden and complete it rang louder than a scream.

Then the man’s head slid from his shoulders and hit the ground with a dull thud. Blood sprayed in an arc across the forest floor.

Everyone froze.

Even the wind seemed afraid to move.

Ariana gasped. She had seen Kael angry before. But not like this.

Not like this.

"Lordd Kael!" she called, stepping forward.

But his voice cut her like a whip.

"Get out of here."

"But—"

"I said go."

His tone was devoid of warmth. Not a plea—an order.

Ariana bit her lip. She took one last look at the scene, the half-dead men squirming, Kael standing in the midst of their fear like a god of death.

She turned and walked away, fast and silent.

As she left, she called out to a knight in the distance.

"Send Gare. Tell him to bring the cleanup team."

She had barely walked twenty paces before she heard it—

The screams.

They weren’t battle cries.

They were wails of despair. Agony. Souls being torn.

It echoed through the forest like a funeral bell rung too many times.

Minutes later, Kael stood in the blood-soaked clearing. The last of the men lay unconscious, their minds hollowed by the Devour Field he’d used.

Their secrets—ripped from their consciousness—now pulsed in Kael’s memory like a web of clues.

Just then, Gare and his men galloped in, weapons raised.

They froze at the sight of Kael, standing amongst bodies that seemed to have their life sucked out of them leaving a malnourished body.

"My Lord..." Gare said slowly, shocked. "Who... who were these men?"

Kael didn’t look at him. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

He simply whispered, voice calm and ice-cold:

"We’ll talk later."

Then, louder.

"Clean this place up. Burn everything."

Gare bowed stiffly. "Yes, my Lord."