Chapter 823: Holyfield Vs Valheim
Finally, when Darius’s arm was growing tired and his rage was beginning to fade into confusion, Cassius decided it was enough.
He pulled back slightly, and the smile vanished from his face as if it had never been there.
In its place was a look of pure agony, of a man whose life was being taken from him.
"OH, MY CHEST—!" He wailed, his voice cracking with pain. "OH, MY CHEST! I’M DYING! I’M GOING TO DIE—!"
He stumbled backward, clutching his chest, the blood gushing between his fingers.
"WHY, YOUNG MASTER DARIUS?"
He cried out, his voice filled with anguish and betrayal.
"WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?"
"I ONLY ASKED FOR MY WIFE’S SAFETY! I ONLY WANTED TO PROTECT MY LOVED ONES!"
He collapsed to his knees, his body wracked with pain.
"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO KILL ME LIKE THIS?"
"DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO TAKE MY LIFE?"
His body swayed dangerously, and he looked like he was about to collapse at any moment.
The wives and maids of the Holyfield household reacted instantly. They had seen Lucius’s subtle nod, and they knew the signal.
Their acting skills were put to the test as they rushed forward, surrounding Cassius with cries of anguish.
"Young master! Young master, no!"
"Darling!"
"Husband!"
"Cassius!"
"Please don’t die! Please, I beg you!"
Diana was the first to reach him, her face pale with genuine worry.
Even though she knew this was all part of Cassius’s plan, the sight of so much blood was enough to make her heart race with fear.
"Cassius, stay with me." She pleaded, pressing her hands against his wounds. "Please, stay with me!"
Maria was right behind her, tears streaming down her face.
"Someone call for a healer! Quickly! We need to save him!"
Nala wrapped her tail around Cassius’s waist, pulling him close. "Please, darling, please don’t leave us. We can’t survive without you!"
The noble guests watched this orchestrated despair with mixed emotions.
Many felt genuine shock and horror at the violence—this wasn’t the refined dueling of nobles, this was butchery.
Others felt a perverse satisfaction watching the notorious Cassius get what they felt he deserved.
But the most common emotion among the men was jealousy.
A bitter, acidic jealousy that burned in their chests as they watched Cassius’s women swarm around him.
Lord Fernwood, a portly noble with three mistresses but not a single wife who truly loved him, muttered to his companion.
"Look at them. Even as he dies, they cling to him. How does a man like that inspire such devotion?"
Lady Estine, a woman married to a man thirty years her senior for political advantage, felt tears prick her eyes.
"They truly love him." She whispered to her friend. "However depraved he may be, they love him."
The other nobles couldn’t understand it. How could someone with such a terrible reputation, such a depraved nature, inspire such devotion?
Their own wives despised them. Their own families were held together by obligation, not love.
They had never experienced the kind of unconditional devotion that Cassius commanded so effortlessly.
It was utterly, completely unfair!
But then Cassius, despite his supposed near-death state, suddenly pushed away from his wives. His expression was one of desperate determination.
"L-Let me go." He said, his voice weak but firm. "Let me go. I have to apologize to Young Master Valheim."
"Young Master, no!" Vivi grabbed his arm. "You’re in no condition to move! You need to rest!"
"Please, darling." Nala pleaded, her tail tightening around him. "We can’t afford to lose you. Please, stay here."
Cassius’s face contorted with anguish.
"I-I have to." He said, his voice breaking. "If I want to protect you all, if I want to save you from his wrath, I have to apologize."
"I have to make things right."
He pulled himself free from their grasp, his movements slow and painful.
Every step was a struggle, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.
The noblewomen in the crowd felt their hearts ache at the sight.
Here was a man, wounded and bleeding, willing to crawl to his enemy just to save the women he loved.
It was tragic. It was heroic. It was the kind of devotion that stories were written about.
Cassius finally reached Darius, his body swaying dangerously. He looked up at the Valheim heir with bloodshot eyes, his face pale and drawn.
"Young Master Valheim." He said, his voice barely a whisper. "I...I apologize for whatever I did to offend you. Please...please forgive me. And please...please spare my wives."
"They’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me you want. Take me. Take anything you want from me."
"Just...just leave them alone."
Darius stared at him, his expression a mixture of contempt and confusion. He raised the dagger once more, ready to finish the job.
But then Cassius’s eyes flickered, and Darius felt his blood run cold.
Because in that moment, Cassius’s face changed.
The pathetic, pleading expression vanished. In its place was something far more terrifying.
A smile so demonic, so utterly inhuman, that Darius felt his bowels loosen with fear.
Cassius leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper so soft that only Darius could hear.
"You wanted my family to serve underneath you, didn’t you? Well, I’ve decided to return the favor."
"I’m going to make sure your entire family hangs above you instead."
He laughed softly, the sound like grinding glass.
"Enjoy your last moments of peace, Darius. Because very soon, everything you’ve ever known is going to come crashing down."
Before Darius could react, Cassius pushed himself away with a theatrical groan.
He let out a scream of pain, stumbling backward and spitting out a mouthful of blood.
"Ah! Please, don’t hurt me!" He cried, clutching his chest. "I’ve learned my lesson! I won’t defy you again!"
The ladies swarmed him once more, their faces masks of genuine concern.
"Young master! Young master!"
"Please don’t die! Please, I beg you!"
Isabelle, who had been shielding Happy’s eyes from the violence, quickly stepped forward.
"Carry him away!" She shouted, her voice commanding. "We have to save the Young Master!"
The maids rushed forward, lifting Cassius’s unconscious form onto a stretcher that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
They carried him away, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
Lucius stepped forward, his expression calm and composed.
"Ladies and gentlemen." He announced, his voice carrying across the garden. "I regret to inform you that the party has been cancelled. We must attend to our young master’s injuries immediately."
"Please escort yourselves out of the mansion."
The noble guests didn’t need to be told twice.
"I’m getting out of here." One muttered, already scrambling toward the exit. "I don’t want to be involved in this mess!"
"Shit! Shit! Why did I even come here?" Another cried out. "This is going to be a bloodbath!"
"A full-blown war between the Valheims and the Holyfields!"
"Damn it all!" A third shouted, his voice shrill with panic. "Stealing a man’s wives was one thing, but MURDER?"
"Darius Valheim has finally lost his mind!"
They fled in droves, abandoning their carriages and horses in their haste to escape.
Everyone knew what this meant. Cassius’s father might despise his third son, might even wish him dead.
But having another noble murder him so openly in his own territory was a direct insult to the Holyfield reputation.
The Patriarch would have no choice but to retaliate.
A war was coming. A war between old blood and new blood.
And no one wanted to be anywhere near it when it started.
—
Joy looked toward her mother, who was now completely distraught, her face pale with worry.
She quickly went over to her, took her hand, and led her away.
"It’s alright, Mother." She said softly. "Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see."
Maria’s hands were trembling, but she nodded. "If you say so, dear."
—
Happy was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched Cassius being carried away. She tugged frantically at Isabelle’s sleeve.
"B-Big Sister." She sobbed. "is Young Master Cassius going to be okay? Is this all my fault? D-Did I cause this?"
Isabelle scooped the little maid up in her arms, holding her close.
"Shh, shh, little one. It’s alright." She pressed a gentle kiss to Happy’s forehead. "Everything is going to be just fine."
Portia appeared beside them, her expression calm and reassuring.
"There’s no need to worry about anything." She said softly. "Just leave everything to our husband."
"But..." Happy sniffled, still uncertain.
Portia smiled. "Trust us, little one. Our husband knows what he’s doing."
Happy wanted to believe them. She wanted to believe that everything would be okay.
But the image of that knife plunging into Cassius’s chest was burned into her mind.
’Please let him be okay.’ She prayed silently. ’Please let him be okay.’
—
Within minutes, the garden was completely empty except for Darius and his retinue.
They stood in stunned silence, surrounded by the wreckage of the party.
Broken glasses. Toppled tables. Blood-stained grass.
"What...What just happened?" One of the knights whispered, his voice trembling. "What did we just do?"
"Shut up!" Another snapped, though his own voice was shaking. "You’re going to get us all killed."
The knights, maids, and butler all exchanged nervous glances.
They knew, deep in their hearts, that they were in grave trouble. They had failed in their duties.
They had let their master act out in the most horrific manner possible.
And now, they would all be punished for it.
Darius, however, was the most disturbed of all.
He stood frozen in place, his face completely ashen.
All the blood had drained from his body, leaving him pale as a ghost.
He was staring at the spot where Cassius had been standing, his eyes wide and unseeing.
The image of Cassius’s face—those crimson eyes boring into his soul was burned into his mind.
The words he’d whispered were still echoing, each one a promise of something terrible.
’I’ll make sure your entire family hangs above you instead.’
’What did that mean? What did it mean?!’
Darius felt a cold dread settling into his stomach, an unshakeable certainty that something terrible was about to happen.
He tried to dismiss it. Tried to tell himself that Cassius was just a pathetic weakling, who was abandoned by his family.
That there was nothing he could do, that the Valheim family was untouchable.
But the feeling wouldn’t go away.
It was like a guillotine was hanging over his family, slowly descending.
"DAMN IT!" He finally shouted, his voice cracking with rage and fear. "GET THE CARRIAGE READY! NOW!"
The butler blinked in confusion. "Young master, why—"
"SHUT UP AND DO IT!" Darius screamed, his face contorted with fury. "WE’RE GOING HOME! NOW!"
The butler didn’t dare argue. He hurried off to prepare the carriage, shouting orders at the remaining servants.
The knights and maids followed their master, practically fleeing the garden.
They all felt the same sense of dread, the same certainty that they had just made a terrible, terrible mistake.
They boarded the carriage, and the Wind Walker horses were whipped into a frenzy.
—
As they sped through the night, Darius grew increasingly agitated.
He kept glancing out the window as if expecting pursuit, his fingers tapping a frantic rhythm on his thigh.
"Faster!" He ordered. "Make them go faster!"
"But my lord." The butler protested from the driver’s seat. "They’re already at their limit. Any more and—"
"I DON’T CARE ABOUT THE HORSES!" Darius shrieked. "I just want to go home! Now! Faster!"
With a heavy heart, the butler raised his hands, casting a spell of acceleration on the horses.
The Wind Walkers let out desperate whines as their bodies were pushed beyond their limits, their mana reserves burning dangerously low.
Inside the carriage, Darius was biting his fingers, his eyes darting around nervously.
He kept replaying the scene in his mind, kept hearing Cassius’s words, kept seeing those crimson eyes.
’Nothing is going to happen.’ He told himself. ’Nothing. He’s just a pathetic third son.’
’He has no power. No influence. My family is untouchable.’
And yet, the feeling didn’t go away.
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