The Hidden Monster of House Vale

Chapter 13: Chapter - 13 - The Bloody Eagle

Lucien turned toward Hallas, his expression calm, almost pleasant. ”Let us discuss your taxes.”

Then he looked down at Gardic—still writhing on the stone floor, blood pooling beneath the ruin of his face—and smiled.

”Perhaps we don’t need to.”

He straightened.

”Mr. Hallas, you are hereby arrested for tax evasion. And your son is arrested for attacking a noble family.” Lucien glanced over his shoulder. ”Evelyn. Show them the memory crystal.”

”Yes, Master.”

Evelyn stepped forward, her green eyes blazing. She raised a small crystal above her head—a memory crystal, enchanted to capture and replay events. Light burst from its core, and images flickered in the air like ghosts.

The crowd watched.

They saw Gardic and three others—two young men, two young women. They heard the laughter.

”Did you look at her face? Haha!”

”Yeah, she looked like shit after getting stabbed.”

”Yeah, but her brother Lucien got admission to the Astral Academy, I heard.”

”It was a fluke. Good thing we taught her a lesson.”

The images faded.

Silence.

Lucien turned to Lord Vale. ”Father. The evidence is clear.”

Lord Vale’s face was stone. ”Arrest everyone involved in the attempted murder of a noble. Their families as well. They will be judged by Vale law.”

Guards moved through the crowd. The merchant’s sons and daughters screamed, begged, tried to run—but there was nowhere to go. The crowd parted around them like water around stones.

Hallas stood frozen, his fine clothes spattered with his son’s blood. He did not resist. He knew it was over.

”Tax evasion is a crime,” Lord Vale continued, his voice ringing through the hall. ”Tomorrow, we will inspect every house in Clafton. Every warehouse. Every cellar. Those who have hidden their wealth will face the same judgment.”

He looked at Lucien—a long, searching look—and nodded.

”Seize Mr. Hallas’s property. All of it.”

---

The Next Day – Clafton City Square

The executions were public.

The Vale family wanted everyone to see. To understand. To remember.

Mr. Hallas was sentenced to the Bloody Eagle. His back was skinned in the shape of wings—ribs exposed, muscles peeled, flesh carved into the form of a great bird in flight. He was still alive when they hung him from the central gallows. His screams echoed through the city for hours.

His son Gardic and the other attackers—the two young men, the two young women—were sentenced to impalement. Five-meter wooden stakes, sharpened to a point, were driven slowly through their bodies from below. The process would take days. Soldiers would push the stakes deeper each morning, each evening, until the wood emerged from their throats or their skulls.

Their families were executed alongside them.

By nightfall, the message was clear:

The Vale family is changing.

---

Aria’s Chamber – Same Evening

Aria sat upright in her bed, her back against the headboard, her golden hair brushed and braided. Her face was still pale, but her eyes were clear. She did not speak when Lucien entered.

He stood beside her window, looking out at the city below. The gallows were still visible in the distance, dark shapes against the sunset.

”How are you doing, Aria?” he asked.

She was quiet for a long moment.

”You killed them,” she said finally. It was not an accusation. It was not gratitude. It was simply a statement.

”Yes.”

”For me.”

”Yes.”

She looked down at her hands. ”From now on, no one will call us poor.” Her voice faltered. ”You said I would never have problems.”

”You won’t.”

She laughed—a small, broken sound. ”I used to mock you. Every day. For years. And you...”

”I remember.”

Aria’s eyes filled with tears. ”I’m sorry, brother. I’m so sorry for ever disrespecting you.”

Lucien turned from the window. He walked to her bedside, sat on the edge of the mattress, and pulled her into an embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder and wept.

”Don’t cry, little sister,” he said quietly. ”I know why you did it. Everyone compared you to Riven. Everyone compared you to me. You were angry because you felt useless—because you thought the Vale family had no future.”

She sobbed against his chest.

”Those days are gone. From now on, focus on your cultivation. Your big brother promises you—no one will ever hurt you again.”

He held her until her tears stopped.

”Now rest.”

---

Alde Family Estate – Private Chambers

The room was warm, lit by candles and a small fireplace. Delian Alde sat in a high-backed chair, her legs crossed, a cup of tea in her hand. Eliss sat beside her, stiff and nervous, her white hair catching the firelight.

Lucien sat across from them, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable.

”I heard how you handled the situation in Clafton,” Delian said, her voice smooth. ”Admirable. Is Aria recovering?”

”Yes. She begins cultivation again tomorrow.”

Eliss said nothing. She kept her eyes on her lap, her cheeks faintly pink.

Delian set down her tea. ”I can see you are now in the Late Spirit Forge Realm. My divine eyes miss nothing.” She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, her foot brushing against Lucien’s ankle under the table. ”You are nearly my equal now. So tell me—what brings you here?”

Lucien did not react to the touch. ”I need to hide my true cultivation. If someone else with eyes like yours sees through me, it could be disastrous.”

”There is a way,” Delian said slowly. ”But I have concerns. The speed at which you are growing... the power you are accumulating... what guarantee do I have that you will not become an enemy of the Alde family in the future?”

Lucien considered this. ”You have none. But I can offer you something in return.”

”Go on.”

”You help me hide my realm, and I will help Eliss break through from Mid-Tempering to Peak Tempering.”

Delian’s eyes glittered. ”Tempting. But the question remains the same. What if you turn against us?”

”What do you suggest?”

”Marry her. Or make her your concubine.”

Eliss’s face turned crimson.

Lucien did not flinch. ”I am not opposed to marrying Eliss. She is precious to me, and I would protect her. But I am not yet strong enough to make such a commitment openly. Give me time.”

Delian studied him for a long moment. Then she smiled.

”That is acceptable. The Vale and Alde families have been allied for generations—your father and Novius were childhood friends. But we trust you more than we ever trusted Riven. You have proven yourself.”

She rose from her chair and crossed to him. She placed two fingers against his forehead.

”Receive the Silent Monarch Aura. With this, you may hide your true realm from any who would seek to see it.”

Warmth spread through Lucien’s skull—not pain, but pressure, as if something were being inscribed on the inside of his mind. Then it faded.

”Thank you, Lady Delian. I will keep my promise. Eliss will be protected.”

He reached into his coat—into the system interface only he could see—and purchased a Primordial Soul Seed.

Two thousand Soul Points vanished.

The seed materialized in his palm: small, golden, pulsing with gentle light.

Delian’s eyes widened. ”Is that... a Primordial Soul Seed? Those cost a fortune. They are nearly impossible to find.”

”It will help Eliss break through from Mid to Peak Tempering. Perhaps further, with time.”

”Are you certain you wish to spend such a treasure?” Delian asked, her voice unusually soft.

”I am certain. Eliss deserves it.”

He held the seed out to Eliss. She stared at it, then at him, her eyes shining.

”Take it,” he said. ”I will see you after the Ancient Breach.”

He rose, bowed to Delian, and left.

Delian watched him go, her smile returning—sharp, seductive, satisfied.

”Prepare yourself,” she murmured to his retreating back. ”I know you already are.”

---

Vale Estate – Lucien’s Chamber

The days before the Ancient Breach passed quickly.

Lord Vale threw himself into rebuilding the estate’s finances. With Hallas’s seized property and the sudden flood of tax payments from terrified merchants, the Vale family’s coffers began to fill for the first time in years.

Aria cultivated. She trained harder than she ever had before, driven by something new—not fear, not ambition, but hope. She still teased Lucien when he visited. She still called him names. But there was warmth beneath the words now, and he did not mind.

Evelyn trained too, but her training was different. She had no Realm to rely on. Only her body, her blade, and her will.

Lucien called her to his room on the last evening before his departure.

”Yes, Master?” she said, standing at attention.

”Evelyn. You are strong—stronger than most mortals I have seen. But a mortal body has limits. Sooner or later, your progress will stagnate.”

Evelyn’s jaw tightened. ”What do you suggest?”

”Do you want to become a Realm Master?”

Her green eyes widened. ”Is that possible?”

”Yes. In a few days, I leave for the Ancient Breach with the Alde family. The Vale estate is recovering, but I need someone here I can trust. Someone who can manage things in my absence.”

He reached into his coat—into the system—and withdrew a Primordial Soul Seed and five Astral Marrow Pills. He placed them in her hands.

”These will open your Realm. They will strengthen your body and your soul. The rest is up to you.”

Evelyn stared at the treasures in her palms. Her hands trembled.

”Master, I...”

”When I am gone, you may ask Eliss Alde for help if needed. She will assist you.”

Evelyn knelt. ”I will not fail you, Master Lucien. I swear it.”

”Rise,” he said. ”And grow strong.”

---

Mordric Estate – Sarric’s Chambers

Sarric Mordric paced his room like a caged animal. His face was still bruised beneath the healing, his pride still raw.

”Lucien Vale,” he hissed. ”I will kill you with my own hands. How dare you humiliate me!”

Celbeth watched him from the doorway.

She was tall for a woman, lean and dangerous, with dark red hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She wore a white robe that reached only to her knees, a red cloth tied around her waist, her legs bare for mobility. Her eyes were sharp as knives—the eyes of someone who had killed before and would kill again.

She was in the Late Spirit Forge Realm. A secret guardian of the Mordric family. And she was bored.

”Young master,” she said, her voice flat, ”perhaps we should focus on preparing for the Ancient Breach. Lucien Vale will be there with the Alde family. Opportunities for revenge will present themselves.”

Sarric stopped pacing. ”You are right, Celbeth. As always.” He turned to her, his eyes gleaming with malice. ”Inform Rendon and Heldon. I want all three of you for this. When we find him, we ambush him.”

Celbeth smiled—a thin, cold expression. ”Don’t worry, young master. I am more than enough for Lucien Vale. He cannot escape my blade.”

She turned and walked away, her ponytail swaying.

Lucien Vale, she thought. I have heard stories about you these past few days. I want to see if you can defeat me.

She found fighting fun. She found life meaningless—but that did not mean she did not enjoy winning. She had never seen Lucien. She only knew what others said. And she was curious.

No one had defeated her yet.

---

The Ancient Breach

The sky above the breach was wrong.

It rippled like water, cracked like old glass, bleeding light from a world that should not exist. The gap in space was enormous—thick enough to swallow thousands of people at once, tall enough to dwarf the mountains on either side.

Realm Masters gathered from across the kingdom. Some rode flying birds with wingspans like clouds. Others rode four-legged beasts with eyes of fire. A few rode snakes that slithered through the air as easily as through water.

They formed groups. They circled each other like wolves. They made alliances and remembered grudges.

Inside the breach, there was no law.

For one month, there would be no rules but survival.

Lucien stood at the edge of the breach with Delian Alde and Hellyn Ashwick. The rest of Delian’s retainers fanned out behind them—men and women in armor, their faces hard, their hands on their weapons.

Delian looked different today. She wore practical clothing—leather and steel, not silk and velvet. Her face was not the face of a noblewoman. It was the face of a Realm Master. A hunter. A killer.

”Everyone looks serious,” Lucien observed.

”Because it is serious,” Hellyn said. She wore her white priestess outfit. ”Fewer people come back than go in. Every year.”

”Love. Betrayal. Fights. Ascensions.” Delian counted on her fingers. ”Abandoning allies. Turning enemies. It all happens inside.”

”And there is no law,” Hellyn added.

”None,” Delian agreed.

Lucien looked at the breach. The crack in reality. The doorway to death or glory.

”Let’s go,” Delian said.

She stepped forward.

Lucien followed.

The breach swallowed them all.