Chapter 90: Small Evening Gathering. (3)
Katerina didn’t respond immediately.
The glass remained in her hand, tilted just enough for the liquor to describe a slight sway inside.
The room’s dim light reflected in the dark crystal, drawing muted flashes that barely managed to break the penumbra. From her position, she observed Bernard without looking away, measuring each gesture, each inflection in his voice, each doubt she could exploit.
Under the mask, her breathing remained controlled, though not entirely stable.
She had a plan.
One that admitted no nuances.
Withdrawing the men from Ebanar’s wall would open a crack in the defense.
One wide enough for the creatures from Kokytus abyss to advance without encountering real resistance. It wasn’t a minor incursion; when those entities moved, they did so in waves, without stopping until razing what they found in their path. First the border, then nearby roads, and finally the villages.
The beast-men tribe would be trapped in that advance.
Without escape.
Without margin for reaction.
The idea had clear logic, but also a high cost. Too many variables, too many elements outside her control. It didn’t guarantee recovering what she had lost. It was an extreme resource, closer to destruction than to a solution.
That’s why she didn’t present it.
Not yet.
"I’ve been assigned to supervise the sale of the beast-men," she finally said, leaving the glass on the table with a precise movement. "The guild will reinforce the fort’s defense meanwhile. I need you to withdraw your men from the wall."
The phrase came out continuous, without unnecessary pauses. Her tone didn’t seek to convince; it took for granted the order had sufficient weight.
Bernard listened without interrupting her. For a few seconds, his expression remained neutral, as if processing each word calmly.
Then, a low laugh escaped his throat, growing little by little until becoming more evident. He brought the glass to his lips and took a sip before responding, as if wanting to take his time.
"So assassin guild members also have a sense of humor?" he said finally, leaving the cup back on the table. "How surprising without doubt, very surprising, because obviously you’re joking right?"
He settled, turning his body slightly to face her completely. One of his rings emitted a faint glow as his hand moved, catching the room’s light.
"I mean I have plenty of men here," he continued, with a calm that was beginning to border on condescension. "For them supervising some simple slaves would be quite easy, in fact I don’t think they even need my help," he made a brief pause, narrowing his eyes, "Besides I don’t think what the dark society wants is to infiltrate people in the wall, because I know very well they already have their men there. Or is it that you specifically need my best men to manage slaves? It wouldn’t be that you need them for... something more difficult?"
While speaking, he drummed with his fingers on the table’s surface, an apparently distracted gesture that contrasted with the attention he was really paying. His eyes didn’t move away from her.
Katerina remained motionless.
Bernard Sargas had seen through her lie in an instant. He wasn’t just a fat and greasy noble, he was also disgustingly astute.
Therefore, she would have to change strategy.
The air in the room changed.
There were no words to announce it. The pressure emerged directly, expanding from her with palpable intensity. It wasn’t magic in the strict sense, but concentrated killing intent, directed without dissimulation.
Pure haki.
"I’m sorry to tell you like this but," she said, her voice lower, denser. "Either you accept or I kill you."
The silence that followed lasted barely an instant.
One of Bernard’s rings reacted immediately. A brief flash, almost imperceptible, gave way to a greenish barrier that enveloped him completely. The pressure crashed against it and dissipated instantly, as if it had been absorbed.
Bernard didn’t retreat.
He didn’t even change his posture.
On the contrary, his expression relaxed, and a slow smile began to form on his face. He took the cup again and took another sip, without taking his eyes off Katerina.
"I see..." he murmured, tilting his head slightly. "So it wasn’t a joke, you simply..."
He left the glass on the table gently and interlaced his fingers, resting his hands in front of him.
"Failed your mission and now you’re alone and need help, how funny," he added, this time with greater clarity.
It wasn’t a question.
It was a conclusion.
"You need me, because the guild won’t give you help, am I wrong?"
Bernard laughed, emitting a sound similar to a pig’s.
All this time subjected to the dark society and now one of its members needed him, without doubt he was going to savor the moment.
Katerina didn’t respond, but her silence was sufficient. Her posture didn’t change, though the tension in her shoulders became more evident.
Bernard let out a brief laugh, shaking his head.
"So you come to ask me for help..." he said, letting out a sigh charged with mockery. "What a situation so... uncomfortable."
He got up slowly from his seat and took a couple steps in her direction. The room’s light reflected in his rings as he moved, projecting small flashes on the walls.
He stopped at a prudent distance.
"I could consider it," he continued, raising a hand with thoughtful gesture. "After all, we’ve collaborated before."
His lips curved slightly.
"But it seems they didn’t teach you how to ask for things properly right? Threatening... No, no no, that’s not right."
Silence settled again.
"Kneel."
The order fell naturally, as if it had nothing extraordinary.
"And beg," he added, without looking away. "Like the little bitch you are. Bark and jump for m—"
But he couldn’t continue his sentence.
Katerina’s expression wasn’t visible, but her body reacted. Her hand descended to her waist with a measured movement.
The knife appeared in an instant.
Black, with serrated blade, with an irregular edge that absorbed light instead of reflecting it. She advanced without warning, closing the distance with a firm step and launching a direct cut toward his neck.
But again, a ring activated again, a translucent one this time, made of different transparent mosaics.
The impact against the barrier produced a dry sound.
Brief sparks jumped at the contact point, dispersing in the air before going out. The blade didn’t advance a single centimeter, it bounced escaping from Katerina’s hand and fell to the floor, the fall’s sound cushioned by the carpet.
Bernard didn’t even move.
He raised an eyebrow, observing the weapon a few centimeters from his face, and slowly shook his finger.
"That’s not convenient for you," he said, with a calm that was irritating. "If you kill me now... I’m sure your boss won’t like it. You surely won’t have a good time."
Katerina stepped back a few steps from the man. Her breathing became heavier, barely perceptible.
"Don’t you fear for your life? Fine, I can also go after your wife," she then said, her voice harsher. "And after your son."
Bernard let out a short laugh.
"Do it," he responded, shrugging. "You’d do me a favor."
The light tone contrasted with his words’ intention, but in his gaze there was calculation. He knew exactly how to provoke.
Obviously Bernard did appreciate his family, especially his son, but revealing it would be a stupidity unworthy of his cunning.
Katerina understood it.
And the rejection she felt only tensed her posture even more.
The silence lengthened a few seconds.
The memory of punishment crossed her mind. The pain. The humiliation.
The certainty she couldn’t allow herself another mistake.
Her body moved.
First one knee touched the floor.
Then the other.
Her hands descended slowly, resting on the polished wood.
Four points of support.
She lowered her head.
The gesture felt foreign to her, forced.
"W-woof..." the word came out low, broken.
She made a brief pause, as if needing to gather strength.
"P-please..." she continued, pressing her fingers against the floor. "H-help this poor bitch..."
Another pause.
"Woof..."
The silence that followed broke with Bernard’s laughter.
More open this time.
Longer.
He leaned slightly forward, observing her with evident amusement while pouring his drink on top of the girl, soaking her hood.
When the alcohol filtered under her mask Katerina had to make a very great effort not to scream in pain from the stinging.
"Pathetic," he murmured between laughs.
He advanced one more step and spat on the floor, at short distance from her. The wet sound of impact was clear in the room.
"But you know, I have no obligation to help you," he said after, his tone colder. "You’re nobody anymore."
Katerina remained in that position.
Motionless.
Only her breathing, somewhat more agitated, broke the stillness.
Her fists were clenched tightly as she tried to deal with her emotions, part of her wanted to kill Bernard, and another, simply wanted to cry.
"Though..." Bernard added after a moment, leaving the glass on the table, "I could do it in exchange for a small service."
The pause lengthened enough for the weight of his words to settle.
"If you entertain me."
He didn’t need to specify.
The tone sufficed.
Though Bernard winked at her, just in case.
"My wife isn’t especially pleasant at times you know," he continued, carelessly. "I put up with it because well, neither am I. And while it’s true I can always use a maid, using the same toy gets boring, you understand?"
Katerina pressed her fists against the floor.
Her fingers trembled slightly before tensing completely.
Under the mask, her jaw closed tightly.
The memory returned. Too recent. Too alive.
Her breathing became irregular for an instant, and her body showed the effort of maintaining that posture.
The thought crossed her mind clearly.
Again.
The possibility opened before her, unpleasant, inevitable.
Apparently men always liked to use "that way" to humiliate women.
She raised her head slightly.
She still hadn’t responded.
And she couldn’t, because at that precise moment—
A dry knock resonated on the door.
And the scene stopped.
