Panic continued to take its stranglehold upon the room, the elegantly dressed nobles and aristocrats practically clamoring and trampling one another to escape as the sword-wielding assailants bathed their blades through entire royal bloodlines. Although many of the young students might have made short work of the assassins under other circumstances, many of them were tipsy and even if sober; completely
unarmed. Those that were brave enough attempted to save the injured, among which were Casimir's kin. Though, throughout all of the bloodshed, the Prince only thought about saving a single person.
Luckily, the chaos made for a good distraction and the Prince managed to rush his way through the crowd of attackers and their unfortunate victims. Upon leaving the main ballroom and entering one of the dining rooms, Casimir was met with a gruesome sight. A sea of blood, interspersed between the strewn out bodies of the noblemen and women. Though Casimir was no stranger to death, such a grisly sight made even the Lion's stomach churn. As he quickly scanned the faces of the victims for any sight of the Princess, he could suddenly hear the stomping of unfamiliar boots approaching.
Quickly, the Prince fell upon the nearest body, laying beside a portly man that he quickly recognized as the Baron of Aventurre. He dared not dwell upon the lost nobleman, lest he soon share the same fate. Instead, he placed his face down, allowing the blood to sink into his once pristine uniform and stain his handsome features. It wasn't until he could feel the presence of others around him that he took a deep breath, holding the air in his lungs lest the killers hear him exhale.
"Where is she?" One of the armed men began,
"We need to find her soon."
The men sauntered closer, until they were practically standing over the Prince. Even with his eyes closed, Casimir could sense the shadow that was looming over him, blocking out the light that was making its way to closed pupils. He could hear a rustling, a hand skirting over his back before grabbing the Baron adjacent to him.
"She can't be far. We will find her soon." The other assailant remarked as he turned over the Baron's body,
"Poor bastards didn't stand a chance. I thought they'd put up more of a fight." Suddenly, the man drove his sword into the already deceased Baron's neck, a splatter of blood once again splattering across the Prince's back.
"School of Heroes? What a joke. Just a bunch of spoiled rich kids." With that, the two men disappeared, the sound of their clattering boots in the distance marking their departure.
It wouldn't be until the two men disappeared that Casimir's burning lungs would finally gasp for oxygen once again, his eyes dilating as the adrenaline flowed throughout his bloodstream. He rose from the ground, before turning his gaze towards the balcony door...
The evening wisp of air would bite against the Princess' features as the chaos brewing inside of the ballroom eventually fell into an eerie silence. Through the curtain-blocked windows, she would have been able to only see the silhouettes crashing against one another, along with the muted screams that were drawn from beyond. Mauve bit his lip, watching as the Princess attempted to find some sort of weapon to use. If only they had brought their swords, they might have stood a fighting chance against the men that were coming for them. Finally, the sounds fell to silence, which the Knight found several times more terrifying than the screams that preceded it.
Maybe they were gone? Mauve thought to himself temporarily, a thought that was dispelled once the door drew open. Soon, not one, not two, but a
dozen men were marching into view, with cloaks covering their features. The men were covered in blood, their swords and cloaks still dribbling trails of blood everywhere they stepped. Slowly, they began to approach the Princess, the men slowly drawing a circle around her as they blocked off any possibility of escape.
"Let me handle this." Mauve pushed past the Princess, before stepping in front of the men,
"Do you know who this is?" He began, the Knight puffing out his chest in attempt to hide his fear,
"This is the Crown Princess of the Empire, the Daughter of the Imperial Helian line. I don't know what ruffian nobleman put you up to this job, but whatever you are being paid, it would not be worth being hunted for the rest of your lives for killing the Princess."
A long silence drew over the group, the gasps of the midnight air carrying over the glares of the surrounding men. Suddenly, one of the men grabbed Mauve, before pushing him to the ground,
"We aren't here to kill the Princess." The man growled, before raising his sword into the air to strike Nyla's unfortunate date.
"Hold it!" A familiar voice shrilled from behind. As the men parted to turn around, there he was. The Lion Prince himself,
unarmed and
vulnerable. Yet, even though he was outarmed and outnumbered, the cocky bastard just couldn't help but confidentialy march himself closer towards the group.
"The Princess belongs to me." He continued to saunter forward, until one of the men intercepted him.
"Get out of myβ" The Prince wouldn't even be able to finish his sentence before the assassin drove his sword into the Prince's chest. Dark pupils widened as the blade sliced through his flesh, the blade piercing his heart and driving all the way through to the other side. Casimir coughed up blood, his entire body becoming numb as he felt his gaze beginning to waver and blur.
Fuckβ why did dying have to be so goddamned
painful?
You fool. My soul is bound to yours. Did you even consider what would happen to me if you were to die?"
Casimir smirked, 'Yeah, that was kind of the fucking point.'
... what a nuisance you are.
"That's enough of this, grab the Princess and let's get out of here." The assassin remarked, his sword still pressed into the Lion Prince's chest. Yet, it wasn't until he attempted to draw the sword from Casimir's chest that he noticed that his hand was being held in place.
"Did you think... it would be that easy?" Casimir's hand gripped upon the blade that punched through his chest, carelessly grabbing upon the sharpened edge and preventing the sword from pulling away. He cared not that his heart had been pierced, or that his blood began to run down the cold steel as it cut deeper into his hand. The man that had once held all of the control now had a gaze of shock. How was he still talking? How was he not dead yet?
The Prince's other hand raised into the air, before punching forwards. His hand smashed against the man's face with superhuman strength, puncturing the man's lower jaw as Casimir's hand pierced through and onto the other side. The man tried to scream out in agony, but without a throat, he found it difficult to do so and it wasn't long until his body was slumped motionless against the man who had killed him.
The assassins gasped in horror, before raising their blades...
With that, the attackers fell upon Casimir, each one trying to drive their sword into the possessed Prince. With the first man's sword still wedged into his body, whatever was left of the Lion Prince began to deliver the same fate to the men. One by one, the assassins fell gruesomely. First a man was decapitated, before the next had his arm pulled from his socket. It had been a thousand years since the demon had tasted blood, and he had no desire to squander the opportunity. Those men that had the misfortune to scream wailed until their lungs gave out, while others were given the mercy of a quick death.
When only one man remained, he dropped his weapon, before attempting to flee. Casimir grabbed the unfortunate attacker, before hurling the screaming man over the balcony like he had been nothing but a toy. Over a thousand feet from the city below, it was a fall that no man would survive. In what had felt like only a few moments, Casimir had made a bloodbath of the attackers, their bodies near unrecognizable as they painted the entirety of the once gorgeous balcony. As the last man fell to the ground, Casimir could only let out an otherworldly, diabolical cackle. His voice was
different, several octaves lower, to the point where it was a sound no other human could produce...
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