Whispered Threats

{ 1 YEAR AND 5 DAYS AGO... }

It was the first of April, 1414, a typical crisp autumn morning.

Or rather: that was the day of the arrival of the famous and much-anticipated "Professor Shirkenn"!

The air was fresh, and the sun was already high as Klark Minet hurried along the paved road leading to the castle walls. With his hands tangled in his messy hair and an anxious look on his face, he had already decided how to present himself.

'I'll pretend to be late, so I'll appear as a professor so clumsy that I even forgot to hire a carriage! Surely, at the moment of need, this will play in my favor!'

Arriving in front of the majestic iron gate, embedded between the imposing stone walls that surrounded the castle, Klark stepped forward with a determined stride, fervently searching through his trousers' pocket for the necessary documents—the ones he had obtained a week earlier after getting rid of the real Professor Shirkenn!

One of the three guards at the gate, dressed in a black and red uniform that stood out against the gray of the bricks, raised a hand in a reassuring gesture. His piercing gaze rested on Klark, momentarily halting his frantic movements.

"You are Professor Shirkenn, am I right?" the guard asked, his voice firm and authoritative.

Klark hesitated for a moment.

"Y-Yes, exactly!" he finally replied, handing over the documents with a slightly trembling gesture, a detail meant to lend greater credibility to his act as an insecure professor.

The guard accepted the papers and began to examine them one by one, staring at the photo attached to the document. With a sharp look, he compared the image with the face of the man in front of him, making sure they matched.

After verifying the identity of "Professor Shirkenn," the guard smiled, a gesture that conveyed reassurance.

"Actually, we've already been notified of your arrival. However, we are still required to follow some mandatory procedures. I hope you understand," said the guard, returning the documents to Klark with a calm and confident tone. "Please, you may proceed now."

Then, with a nod, the guard signaled to the two companions behind him to get to work opening the gate.

The two moved in unison, expertly gripping the heavy metal crank. With deliberate movements, they began to turn it, and the majestic, imposing gate slowly began to rise.

The sound of metal scraping against rusted hinges filled the air as the passage opened, revealing the entrance to the Strongold royal family's territory.

On either side of the cobbled road, well-maintained gardens stretched gracefully, while in the distance, the towering castle loomed on the horizon, filling the gaze with a silent awe.

'Poor fool!' thought Klark, suppressing a triumphant grin as he gave a small bow to the guard he was mocking.

He turned towards the entrance, quickening his pace as the heavy gate slammed shut with a metallic clang. Then, a subtle smile curled his lips.

"I'd say that so far it's been pretty easy..." he murmured to himself, the satisfaction buzzing inside him like an unspoken secret.

Finally, still following the cobbled road, he continued his feigned exhausted run towards the castle, where a massive double wooden door stood between him and the beginning of his mission.

'Let's go!' he exclaimed to himself, his wild and intense gaze fixed on the two golden handles.

He swallowed and, to create the right effect, opened the doors and entered the castle with a feigned clumsiness, pretending to catch his breath, despite not being tired at all.

"Apologies for the delay-" Klark started to say, but before he could finish the sentence, he pretended to trip awkwardly on his shoelaces and fell to the ground, almost face-first.

'Good, this should work!'

In the chaos of the fall, his bag opened, and a myriad of books scattered across the floor. Klark let out a fake embarrassed laugh as he tried to get back on his feet.

"Augh! What a pain..." he muttered, massaging his head.

"Oh, did you hurt yourself?!" Carmen exclaimed, crouching down beside him and starting to pick up the books.

"Uh… No no no, I'm fine, thank you," the man replied, smiling nervously.

Carmen placed the books back in his bag and handed it to him, adjusting the strap carefully over the guest's shoulder.

'I assume she's the Prince's personal servant!' Klark deduced, carefully analyzing the red-haired woman. 'If so, maybe I can "befriend" her. She'll definitely be useful in the future to raise fewer suspicions.'

Without saying a word or showing any emotion, Carmen began to straighten him up with the same meticulousness as someone taking care of a lost child: she bent down to tie his shoes with quick, precise movements, then moved on to the tie, gently pulling it to straighten it and give it a more dignified appearance.

While displaying a fake expression of embarrassment and gratitude, Klark was already scheming maliciously to get rid of his target—the young Prince!

But the flow of his thoughts was suddenly interrupted.

"What exactly do you think you're doing here, Klark?!" Carmen asked suddenly, her voice low to avoid being heard by Mirac, who had remained motionless in his place.

Klark's reaction was immediate: he stiffened for a moment, his face betraying a slight tremor of surprise before he managed to compose himself.

His eyes widened in surprise, but she continued without giving him a chance to respond:

"It's pointless for you to look at me with that face. I already know everything about you! The 'Last Storm' sent you here to kill Prince Mirac, am I right?"

With that, Carmen continued adjusting his crumpled lilac shirt.

She then carefully buttoned the last button and, leaning close to Klark's ear, whispered:

"Well, you know, I suggest you not make any reckless moves... if you really care about Lois and Petra...!"

The servant's voice, sharp with calm, seemed to slip like a sharp blade into Klark's ears.

"Huh?!" The fake professor was as shocked as he was confused. "L-Lois? Petra? You... W-What do you mean?"

Without responding, Carmen finished adjusting his collar, with slow, methodical gestures, leaving him standing there, seemingly more dignified than he deserved, like a puppet in the hands of a puppeteer.

A cold shiver ran down the "Professor Shirkenn's" spine, creeping through his bones like an ominous premonition.

Carmen's words echoed in his mind, turning into a warning he could not ignore.

'Who is this woman?! How did she recognize me?! The "Deceptive Glasses" I'm wearing are supposed to alter my real appearance, copying and using the true Professor Shirkenn's look! But then, how did she recognize me? Is it possible that someone had already informed her about me and my arrival?!' Klark wondered, maintaining a fake expression of gratitude on his face. 'Wait a minute! If she already knew about me but didn't warn any of the royal guards, then I assume she's an infiltrator in the royal palace as well! Maybe she's a spy? Or perhaps she's an assassin too? But even if she is... how does she know about my wife and daughter? Is she trying to threaten me? Tsz, damn it! I don't know who you are, but it won't work with me, you ugly bitch!'

Once she made the final adjustment to the fake professor's collar, Carmen began to step back, her gaze as cold as a shard of ice reflected in her dark eyes, fixed on Klark.

Then, with her hands clasped in front of her, she calmly turned towards Mirac, resuming her position next to the young Prince, as if nothing had happened.

* * *

{ THE AFTERNOON OF THE SAME DAY... }

Carmen was at the back of the castle, immersed in the quiet of the sunset. Her gaze was fixed beyond the small training field, towards the line of trees marking the entrance to the royal garden.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the first blooming roses, but she seemed oblivious to it. Her eyes, cold and unwavering, were focused on a thought that no one else could fathom.

Behind her, the large double doors creaked open slightly, breaking the silence. She didn't turn immediately, but a barely perceptible smile crept across her lips.

She didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Who are you?" a firm voice asked.

It was Professor Shirkenn, or rather, the man hiding behind that name. His performance, so carefully constructed up until then, had deceived everyone at the castle.

But in front of Carmen, the need to pretend no longer made sense.

With an almost exasperating calmness, Carmen turned towards him. Her eyes locked onto his with an icy coldness, and Klark Minet, the man behind the disguise, felt a chill run down his spine.

"It doesn't matter who I am," she replied, her voice as calm as the sea before a storm. "Let's talk about you instead."

She took a few steps towards him, approaching with grace.

"Klark Minet," Carmen continued, her voice full of disdainful confidence. "The infamous assassin wanted in much of the continent. You're accused of unimaginable crimes: ruthless murders, victims without distinction, women, children... No one is safe from your cruelty! It is clear that you are a despicable being!" She emphasized the last word with a hint of contempt, her gaze sharp as a blade. "But I'm not here to talk much about that. Nor about the secret organization you serve with such zeal. Rather, I want to warn you about something else..."

She stopped in front of him, looking him in the eyes with an intensity that seemed to dig into his soul. Then, she uttered the words that would shake the man to his core:

"I have your family hostage, Klark."

For a moment, silence fell between them. The words echoed in the air like the sound of a gunshot.

Meanwhile, Klark's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What did you say?!"

"You heard me right," she said, her calm unsettling. "Lois and Petra are our hostages."

Klark clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the tension.

"My family... hostage?" he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief.

Rage threatened to erupt within him, causing an uproar that would have surely ruined his cover as well as his plans, but the man miraculously managed to hold himself back.

He took a deep breath, trying to maintain control.

Then, with a forced attempt to appear superior, he let out a cold laugh.

"Heh, yeah, sure! And you think I'll believe you? You think your words are enough to scare me?"

Carmen watched him with an impassive look.

"You may not believe me," she replied, intertwining her fingers in front of her. "But are you sure you want to take the risk?"

Those words, spoken with a near mocking calm, hit him harder than any shouted threat.

Klark fell into deep thought, his mind beginning to whirl in a storm of hypotheses.

'Damn!' he thought, feeling his heart pound furiously in his chest. 'I can't afford to underestimate this woman! She knows too much about me, my plans, and maybe even about the Last Storm! She's not just a spy, that's clear. But who is she really? Is she part of a secret organization? Yes, it's probably like that! Earlier, she said "our hostages" referring to Lois and Petra... That "our" means she's not acting alone. This confirms she works for an organization, and not just any one. A simple group of bandits wouldn't even know about the existence of the Last Storm.'

Klark gritted his teeth, his thoughts spinning in a chaotic whirl.

'If that's the case, then it's not entirely impossible that they really have taken Lois and Petra hostage in my absence! But why? Why them? Is it to strike at me? Or is it because I'm part of the Last Storm?'

His thoughts chased each other in a spiral of unanswered questions.

'But even so, who would dare to do such a thing? Who would have the audacity to go up against the Last Storm? Don't they fear the Boss? Or maybe... they don't know who he really is? Or worse... they think they have someone strong enough to defeat him? Huh, but that's impossible! Not even an Elemental Angel would stand a chance against him!'

Klark rubbed his face, trying to regain control, but frustration kept growing.

As he desperately tried to figure out which secret organization could be responsible for such an affront, a possibility slowly crept into his mind, relentless and inevitable.

Klark's eyes widened in terror, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

'Wait a minute! Lois and Petra... they're both... female! N-No... It can't be! I-It's just a coincidence... or-!'

Klark's hands started to tremble, followed by the rest of his body.

"N-No... Don't tell me that..." he whispered, his voice cracking with fear.

He swallowed hard, feeling his throat dry and tight like a knot—and this time it wasn't part of the act, he was genuinely nervous!

Then, in a trembling voice, Klark finished:

"A-Are you... part of... the Demon's Womb?"

Carmen didn't respond. The silence that followed was even more eloquent.

However, her lips curved into an enigmatic smile, full of meaning.

"Damned woman!" Klark exploded, but there was more desperation than anger in his words.

'No more doubt!' he thought, terror gnawing at him. 'She really is one of them! In fact, now that I think about it... The color of her hair, that damned red that matches their cult's belief... It all makes sense now!'

Klark was certain now: his family was indeed held hostage!

'Damn it! If that's true, they're in grave danger!'

The certainty hit him like a lightning bolt, a wave of panic and rage setting his blood on fire.

"Tell me..." Klark growled, taking a step forward. His eyes were burning with fury. "Where have you taken them? Where are they?! Have you dared to harm my wife and my daughter?! Come on, answer me! I swear, if you hurt them in any way, I-"

"If you want to see your family safe and sound," Carmen interrupted him, her usual icy calm, ignoring his outburst, "you'll have to follow two simple rules."

Klark gritted his teeth, trying to suppress the urge to attack her.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, but the tension was evident in his stiff jaw and clenched fists.

"Speak!" he barked, almost trembling with impatience. "What do you want?!"

Carmen, with slow and calculated movements, closed the distance between them. Her presence was cold and threatening, like the chill before a blizzard.

"Rule one: stay away from the young Prince!" she declared, her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Klark clicked his tongue, visibly irritated.

"Tsk! And then?"

"Rule two: you'll have to provide us with some information."

The woman took another step forward, almost eliminating the space between them. Now their faces were so close they could feel each other's breath.

Klark's pupils contracted, filled with primal rage.

"You filthy bitch!" he roared, his voice so full of hatred that anyone who heard it would swear they were facing a wild beast rather than a human.

Carmen, however, remained unfazed. Her usual unwavering calm was, as always, evident in the way she hinted at a smile without fully displaying it.

"I would advise you to moderate your tone when addressing me, Klark," the maid replied coldly, not moving an inch.

The assassin clenched his fists, but in the end, he stepped back suddenly, moving like an animal in a cage.

With a satisfied expression on her face, Carmen then slowly turned towards the garden.

The light breeze caressed her red hair, making it dance around her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the young Prince approaching slowly.

"Now leave," the maid said, her voice an unappealable command.

However, before leaving completely, Klark stopped for a moment, his breath heavy. He turned towards her with a look full of hatred.

"Tsk! Laugh as much as you want now, but remember: this story doesn't end here!" he growled. "I swear you'll pay for all of this, Carmen!" 

Without saying another word, Klark spun on his heel and walked away, slamming the large double doors behind him.

But as he walked briskly, his mind was already racing, planning how to turn the situation around as quickly as possible.

'I need to contact the Boss as soon as possible and inform him that there's probably a traitor spy in the Last Storm!' Klark thought, his heart pounding in his chest. 'Yes, it has to be that way! Otherwise, how could that woman know so much about me and our plans?'

Anger and suspicion mixed in his mind like a fierce whirlpool.

'And then,' he continued, gritting his teeth, 'how would she have found my house? It can't be a simple coincidence! Someone must have given her the information... Someone who knows our secrets!'

The thought of a traitor in their group made his blood boil.

'If I don't act quickly, this situation could spiral out of control, and our entire group could be soon caught off guard with a surprise attack!'

Meanwhile, Carmen remained motionless in her place, gazing at the garden before her.

A faint smile touched her lips, one that concealed secrets and promises, as she turned to greet the young Prince, once again as if nothing had happened...