Warrior Training System

Alix came by to check if Lumine and Cassian were working. Finding only Lumine there, looking visibly worried, she asked, "Where's Cassian?"

Lumine, lost in thought, snapped back to the moment when she noticed Alix's presence. Quickly masking her concern, she put on the most nonchalant tone she could muster and replied, "I don't know. He didn't come back last night."

Alix frowned, her confusion deepening as she muttered, "Did he stay in the village overnight?"

Lumine shrugged, a gesture that spoke of uncertainty, though her expression betrayed lingering concern. Before either could say more, one of the mansion guards came rushing toward them. Offering a quick bow, he said urgently, "Detective, there was an attack last night."

Lumine's worry immediately intensified, her eyes narrowing as she stood up. Alix, still processing the sudden news, gave a firm nod, her tone resolute. "Take us there."

This had happened two days ago, and news of the attack had already spread throughout the city, eventually reaching the ears of Katherine Ven Dyke, the Princess of the Scarlet Duchy. Hearing about her servant's disappearance, Katherine's expression remained composed as she gazed out the window. However, the maid standing nearby, Lucy, couldn't hide her concern.

"My lady, what should we do? He might be in trouble," Lucy asked, her voice laced with worry.

Katherine's eyes briefly flickered with worry, but her tone remained steady. "Not

might

, Lucy. He

is

in trouble," she said. Then, with confidence, she added, "But he'll be alright. He doesn't need my help."

Lucy, unconvinced, hesitated before softly questioning, "Apologies, my lady, but... what if he did need your help?"

Katherine's confident demeanor faltered for a moment as hesitation crossed her face. She sighed deeply before muttering, "Then he'd better be dead..."

It was a harsh, thoughtless thing to say, and both of them knew it. Lucy's expression shifted to one of restrained anger. Though she hadn't known Cassian for long, he was not just Katherine's servant—he had also become her friend. How could Katherine be so indifferent? How could she not care enough to even consider helping him?

But Katherine wasn't entirely wrong. She was training Cassian to be her knight, after all, and she knew there were few options available. The idea of going herself to rescue him was impractical, and requesting aid from the Scarlet Duchy would be out of the question—her mother would never approve of diverting resources for someone like Cassian, a servant with no standing in the Duchy.

What's more, Julius was already in the area. If

he

couldn't help Cassian, what chance did she have? The only ones truly capable of rescuing him now would be grand mages or the legendary circle warriors who had surpassed the limits of the world.

As Katherine thought about them, she began to entertain the idea of seeking help from one of the grand mages or circle warriors if the situation worsened. After all, she didn't want to lose such a truly talented masseur.

But she quickly shook her head, dismissing the thought. Cassian might be important to her, but he was nothing to them. Even if she managed to convince them to help, it would mean lowering herself to beg for a servant's life—an act that could tarnish her reputation. Worse, some might misunderstand and assume Cassian was her illegitimate child, complicating the situation further and potentially putting Cassian in even greater danger.

So, Katherine chose not to interfere. She knew it wouldn't help him much in the long run. Apart from instructing the department heads to keep her informed about Cassian's situation, she didn't take any further action.

She was fully aware that Cassian would be hurt if he knew this, but she reminded herself that she wasn't his mother. He needed to learn how to navigate the world on his own. What she could do was encourage him and offer support occasionally, perhaps through small gifts or guidance. But swooping in to save him every time he faced danger would only cripple him, leaving him incompetent and dependent.

Elsewhere, the scene was far less composed. Cassian hung in the dimly lit chamber, chains binding his wrists and ankles. He was suspended like an animal awaiting slaughter, swaying slightly as his body struggled against the agony coursing through him. Blood dripped steadily from numerous wounds, pooling beneath him in sickly red puddles.

The air was thick with the scent of blood and damp stone, and the faint, rhythmic sound of dripping echoed through the room. His breathing was shallow, each inhale a struggle against the searing pain in his ribs. The crude cuts on his arms and legs stung with every movement, and his head lolled forward, too heavy to lift.

The soft creak of a door opening broke the silence. Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. Cassian barely managed to lift his head, his blurred vision settling on a figure approaching him.

It was the fat man, his grotesque grin stretching ear to ear. "Still alive, are we?" he sneered, circling Cassian like a predator. "You're tougher than you look, I'll give you that."

Cassian's lips cracked into a weak smirk despite the pain. "Flattering... but... I think we both know you're just bad at killing," he rasped, his voice hoarse.

Cassian might have appeared to be enduring the pain, but only moments ago, he had been begging for death. His act of defiance now wasn't bravery—it was desperation, a feeble attempt to provoke the man whose name he didn't even know into finally killing him.

The fat man's grin faltered briefly before he chuckled, his voice dripping with malice. "Oh, don't worry. I'm just getting started. I still need the answers before I kill you."

Cassian couldn't keep up his charade after hearing that. His resolve cracked as he pleaded, "Then ask! Please, ask anything you want—I'll tell you! You want to know about Katherine? I'll tell you... I'll—"

Before he could finish, a searing pain tore through his words. The fat man pressed a red-hot iron to one of Cassian's open wounds, the sizzling sound filling the room as the smell of burning flesh mingled with the iron's heat. Cassian's screams cut off into a choked gasp as his body convulsed against the chains.

The fat man puffed his cheeks into a mock pout, tilting his head in exaggerated disappointment. "But I don't want answers yet. I want to enjoy myself first," he cooed, his grin returning—twisted and vile.

He pressed the iron to another wound, delighting in the fresh sizzling sound as Cassian's flesh burned. Cassian's strangled cries filled the room again, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Isn't this fun?" the fat man continued, his voice laced with twisted glee. "Don't you love it? Smell that? That's you—cooking up nicely. Mmm, I think you might even taste good if we keep going like this."