Chương 46: The Belle of Bellacanicus

Bloodstone Immortal Book 2: The Lifecycle of a Grasshopper Fausto Figaro On a desolate island in a dark corner of the Twin Dragons Empire, wedged between two looming cliffs, lay the Blackfire Palace. The seat of the Noble Demon Clan of Bellacanicus. The gardens in front of the sprawling palace were filled with twisted, venomous things that reached for anyone who admired them for too long. In the distance, the massive iron Hellmouth gates opened. The servants froze. Clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop.

The rhythm echoed through the valley, strangely loud. It was a slow, harrowing sound that filled anyone that could hear it with dread. A skeletal horse emerged bearing a dark rider. The servants had seen stranger sights, but still they gossiped.

"Who is that?"

"It must be Fausto Figaro. No one else rides a Nightmare."

"But isn't he supposed to be escorting the young mistress?" The man in question, Fausto, handed his steed off to a stableboy and ambled into the palace like a man walking to his death. He wiped his clammy hands on his robes. In the wider world, a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator like himself was considered a major figure. In Blackfire Palace, he was no one. And the news he was here to deliver was nothing good.

Somehow, Princess Blaise had managed to slip his grasp, and had hitched a ride with some locals to cross the Circling Sea. A path he couldn't follow. His only relief was that she hadn't died - but she was across the continent now, alone, where their influence was weak. Fausto made his way through the dark, ever-changing halls of the palace, until he was at Lord Vittorio's study. But he wasn't the only one there. In front of the door, a servant argued with the female guard stationed in front of him.

"I must see the lord," protested Jacque.

"Between the hours of sundown and sunrise, the lord is not to be disturbed," said Nelpha.

"You were raised in this household. You know these things."

"There's something wrong with the seal on the lady's cultivation chamber," Jacque pressed.

"How do you even know that's the case? You're barely a Qi Refiner." Jacque bristled.

"It's looked the same every day since she went inside. And now it's different. I could be a mortal and–""You're going to end up a mortal if you disturb the lord," said Nelpha.

"And worse, I might end up a mortal. The lord's been experimenting with draining people of their cultivation again. Cerulea has been in her room, crying for weeks. I think she's lost her immortal foundation. Serves her right. She's always acted like she's better than us."

"This is important. The seals on Mistress's cultivation chamber have all but disintegrated!"

"She's only been in closed door cultivation for fifteen years. Her breakthrough is supposed to take no less than thirty! You're seeing things, Jacque!"

"I don't know. We should send someone to check…"

"Who would dare open her doors?" snarled Nelpha. Fausto's heart rammed against his ribs. Something was wrong with the Mistress too? Maybe… in comparison, losing Blaise wasn't so bad?

"Who's lurking there?" snapped Nelpha, staring at the corner Fausto had stopped behind. He cleared his throat and stepped out into view.

"Pardon. Didn't mean to frighten you, Nelly. I also need to see the lord." Her eyes widened.

"Fausto? What are you - you shouldn't be back for months. Where's the princess?" The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"That's the matter I need to discuss with the lord about."

"Did the princess escape again?"

"If you already know, do you really need to ask?" he muttered. They must have been making a commotion, because the next thing they knew, the door to the study flew open. Clan Lord Vittorio Bellacanicus nee Nostraga loomed in the threshold, thin and sharp as a blade. He was over a head taller than Fausto, who was already six feet himself, and dark bags marred the space under his eyes. Behind him, a heavy black quartz coffin sat on the ground.

The lid had been flung off, smashed into the wall hard enough to leave a crater. Fausto fought to not tremble in fear. They had woken the lord up, and he was already in such a foul mood. The three of them stumbled to their knees, prostrating before the Nascent Soul cultivator. Ghostly gray eyes pinned Fausto in place.

"Where's my daughter?"

"Alive!" he gasped out.

"But - but - she's disobeyed you again, my lord. She crossed the Circling Sea by way of some local sailors. I punished them, my lord. I ate them, even though they were chewy -" Lord Vittorio's eyelids twitched.

"You didn't use them for a ride?" Of course Fausto had thought of that. But he was too scared to cross the Circling Sea, and refused to place his life in the hands of small-time cultivators, regardless of their skills. Fausto swallowed multiple times, his throat suddenly very dry, but as it turned out he didn't need to say anything. Lord Vittorio had seemingly pieced it together himself. Suddenly, a wave of Yin qi blew through the palace. The flames in the lanterns blew sideways, turning green.

Fausto was no longer in the hallway outside of Lord Vittorio's study. A large red moon hung in the night sky. On either side of the gigantic stone throne room, ten thousand cultivators kneeled. A red-eyed woman in black armour sat casually on the throne, her fist propping up the side of her jaw. Lord Vittorio knelt instantly. Fausto only gaped for a second before following suit. He was already in the lady's domain - the Blood Moon's Final Reckoning. Fausto couldn't believe it. Mid-stage Nascent Soul.

And the lady had accomplished it in only fifteen years!

"Husband," Eleanora Bellacanicus said, her voice silky and smooth. It rang inside of Fausto's mind. He trembled.

"Where is our daughter? She must be walking by now, right? When did she say her first words?" Lord Vittorio answered, his voice steady and unshaking.

"My lady, it's been fifteen years. Our daughter is traveling the world."

"So she's run away."

"Yes."

"I told you not to spoil her."

"I can't help it. I've been trained to obey women," he said dryly. The pair of them laughed. No one else seemed to find it funny.

"I would like to hear news of the world. And news of our little slice of it, first. General Schazard?" The armoured man was kneeling in the front row - he even didn't dare look up.

"Reporting to Your Highness. Our intelligence network has confirmed that Clan Scurro from across the Western Sea has made a significant purchase with the Merchant's Guild. We have divined it is a piece of land on the continent, but not the exact location." A line of displeasure formed between Eleanora's brows. She scoffed.

"A sixth Noble Demon Clan in the Empire? Isn't that too many tigers for one mountain? No, they believe they will be replacing the fifth. It seems that dearest Esme's position is now under jeopardy because she is the last of her clan. Have they forgotten that I stand with her? Or did they think I would only emerge after the scheduled time, ten years too late to stop them?" She threw back her head and laughed.

"Your evil laughter is scaring the servants, my dear," said Vittorio. Lady Eleanora smirked.

"Since the situation in the Empire is so volatile, we might as well go ahead with our daughter's betrothal to that heir of the Resplendent Jade Dynasty Immortal Clan. Additional support in these trying times can't hurt." Lord Vittorio's face remained expressionless.

"The boy is a philanderer. He has ruined the reputation of several women of prominent families." Eleanora smiled.

"So what? Blaise will set him straight when they're married. Nevertheless, there is power in forcing someone into doing something they don't want to do."

"Your dreamy smile is offputting and I believe I should fear for my life."

"You always say the nicest things to me, dear." The two spoke for a little longer, occasionally including important members of their clan for information or context.

"There's been no movement from the Last Rites. A shooting star from a successful slaying appeared in the south a month ago, but we're not sure if it was a great deed at the Rift or the work of the Black Judgment. Heaven's Right-Handed Path has not accepted a disciple yet. None of the old men have emerged in the last fifteen years from their mountains," Lord Vittorio rattled off, mentioning a number of the Great Powers in a swath.

Fausto, mistakenly, started to relax, believing his incompetence had been forgotten about. It hadn't.

"Alright. Back to work," said Lady Eleanora as she ended her Blood Moon's Final Reckoning. The domain began to bleed at the edges, dispersing like threads of a weave being pulled apart.

"Except you, Fausto." The mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivator's red eyes narrowed. Fausto broke out into a cold sweat.

"My lady–" Except, she was gone. Everyone was gone. Fausto stood up from his kneeling position, looking around at the domain that had regained shape. He was all alone in the gigantic throne room. Slowly, ever so slowly, the red moon hanging above him began to fall.