FVN Chapter 85 Everything is Under Control
Chapter 85 Everything is Under Control
Before the Duke could respond about the Mark, Ashok's commanding voice came from behind "Are you really a Mage? You seem more like an Idiot to me."
Ashok's superiority was palpable as he addressed the Head Butler directly "Who asked to cast a dispel over the entire body?"
"There is no sign of concealment or any signs of mana, what's the point of the Dispel?" argued the Head Butler.
"If you could sense everything, then I wouldn't be here in the first place. There is a reason why you, despite being a mage, are a dumb shit. Now, cast a dispel, and focus the entire spell simply on the back," ordered Ashok, his tone brooking no argument.
The Head Butler gritted his teeth, struggling to suppress the rage bubbling inside him. Who was Ashok to speak to him this way, to order him around?
He was a seasoned imperial mage, respected by many, yet here he was, being chastised by a mere outsider. 'Just you wait,' he thought, 'When this is over, you'll see who's truly in charge.'
But despite his internal fury, the Head Butler knew better than to argue in the heat of the moment. He suppressed his emotions and refocused, raising his hand again to cast the spell. This time, he carefully followed Ashok's orders, directing all his magic to the Young Miss's back.
The usual white light enveloped her back, but something was different this time. The light didn't dissipate like before. Instead, it began to slowly seep into her body, a faint shimmer that gradually grew stronger. As the light faded, a dark mark started to emerge on her pale skin.
The Head Butler watched the mark slowly materialize with wide eyes, still in shock, his previous aggression replaced by a growing sense of awe. He had never expected this, let alone thought it possible.
Ashok's voice fell on their ears. "That's why di*kheads should always follow instructions rather than acting on their own."
A vein snapped on the Head Butler's forehead, his jaw clenched in silent fury, but he chose not to respond. His pride was bruised, but now was not the time for confrontation.
The mark itself was striking—black, rectangular in shape, and with numerous cracks over it.
To the Duke and his two aides, this was an unfamiliar sight. They had never encountered something like this before, and their lack of knowledge left them confused, eyes darting back and forth between the mark and Ashok, hoping he would shed some light on its significance, since he was the one who revealed its existence to them.
However Ashok had, his sharp gaze fixed on the mark etched into the Duke's daughter's back. His lips moved as he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible. "Hmm... Five... No, four. Still slightly less, but... still greater than three."
As Ashok was in his own thoughts, The Duke's voice was tight with impatience and growing concern for his daughter. "What is the meaning behind those numbers?"
"Nothing significant. Just the amount of time before your daughter's body is handed to the entity on a platter," Ashok said nonchalantly, as though discussing something trivial.
The words struck the Duke like a blow. He recoiled inwardly at the callousness with which Ashok spoke of his daughter's life. How could someone, barely older than his daughter, treat this with such indifference?
But the Duke, though shaken, pressed on. His voice trembled slightly as he asked, "How much exact time does my daughter have?"
"That entity will start a massacre. I hope, with all that pride you two great vassals hold, you can fight an entity who is more fearsome than witches."
He paused, his tone growing even colder. "I wonder if you even have the strength to raise weapons when the enemy will have the body of your daughter," Ashok sneered.
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing ominously as he strode toward the exit.
"STOP!" the Duke commanded, his voice urgent as he shot up from the bed. The situation had suddenly escalated and he couldn't let Ashok leave now after everything had happened.
However, Ashok only gave commands when have he ever listened to one, he didn't stop walking.
His expression betrayed no emotion, but his thoughts were sharp, deliberate. 'I can feel that old man is targeting me with greed behind his eyes. Does that old man think I will not sense the intention behind his eyes?'
He continued toward the exit, his sharp eyes scanning the room without turning back. 'I'll deal with him later. For now, I need to sever his connection to the Duke. If that old fool becomes a variable in the future, I won't hesitate to remove him. But before that... I'll make his life a living hell. Starting now.'
The Duke, his face a mask of determination, moved swiftly and appeared in front of Ashok, he was still a S Ranker. Without hesitation, he grabbed both of Ashok's hands, his grip firm despite his trembling body.
"I believe you," the Duke declared, his eyes intense and unwavering. "You no longer need to explain anything to anyone. What you say is true for me. You don't need to prove anything. So, please... just cure my daughter."
The Duke's words, urgent and desperate, struck with such finality that it was as though the room itself had paused.
Cassius and the Head Butler, silent witnesses to this pivotal moment, felt the pressure in the room shift. Cassius's steady demeanor faltered for the briefest of moments, his usually sharp and vigilant expression clouded by unease.
Meanwhile, the Head Butler's face drained of color, his usual composure cracking under the enormity of what had just transpired.
The Duke with those words had placed all of his trust in Ashok and now he could manipulate him without any proof.
'What have I done?' The Head Butler thought, his heart sinking as regret gnawed at him. 'How was I not able to control my anger against the words of a child? Why did I let his mockery cloud my judgment?'
With the Duke's unwavering trust now firmly placed in Ashok, the words that came from his mouth were no longer just words—they had become a primal truth.
'Hehe! Now things will get interesting,' Ashok thought. He let out a slow, deliberate sigh, his posture relaxing as he turned his gaze back to the Duke.
"Will you truly believe me?" Ashok asked, his voice smooth, almost as though he were testing the very limits of the Duke's resolve.
"Yes! I will," the Duke replied, his voice firm and unwavering, as if he had resigned himself to a path with no alternatives left to consider. Every ounce of his determination was etched into those few words.