UNMEI: Pantheon's Game-Chapter 130: Shameless

Hazel knelt on the cold marble floor, her slender frame trembling as she bowed her head low. Blood streamed from a cut above her eye, tracing a cruel path down her cheek.

Raves Rodeny's boot pressed firmly against the back of her head, grinding her closer to the ground as gasps and cruel laughter echoed from the circle of nobles gathered around them.

Raves threw his head back with a laugh that cut through the room like a whip.

"Look at her. Flat as a plank and still thinks she's worth something. A filthy Amellia trying to claw her way into our bloodline. Disgusting."

The nobles chuckled, their amusement poorly hidden behind gloved hands and polished fans. Some turned away with feigned scandal while their eyes gleamed with delight.

Hazel stayed silent, pride forcing her to remain bowed even as tears mingled with blood on her face.

From where he stood at the edge of the crowd, Dune's eyes swept across the scene, unblinking.

Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to Atlas.

He stood stiffly beside a marble pillar, black hair falling slightly over his sharp features, purple eyes narrowed, not in confusion, but in restraint.

His jaw was clenched, a vein in his neck twitching with tension. Dune knew him too well. Atlas wasn't afraid... he was holding himself back.

Their eyes met for a moment. Dune could almost feel the weight of the choice pressing down on his friend.

Atlas wanted to act. His fists were clenched at his sides, every muscle taut with suppressed fury. But he didn't move.

And Dune understood why.

If Atlas intervened now, if a Ceresey lifted a hand against a Rodeny, it wouldn't end with a scuffle. It would mean war between families.

Dune turned his gaze back toward Raves, his expression sharpening like a drawn blade.

Fine. If Atlas couldn't move, then he would.

He stepped forward. The nobles parted in instinctive silence, whispers crawling along the edges like insects. Silvie caught his arm, her fingers cold and trembling.

"Dune, stop," she hissed. "You'll get yourself killed. No one will stand with you. This is Rodeny's ground."

His eyes didn't even flick to her. His voice, soft and devoid of fear, passed like wind over stone.

"That's fine. I don't belong to any family. And I don't want to make choices I'll regret later."

He pulled free and stepped between Hazel and Raves.

Carefully, without a word, Dune helped Hazel up, his hand steady beneath her shaking shoulder. She looked at him, wide-eyed and uncertain, her body still quivering.

"Go," he said softly. "To your family. Now."

She took a step back, then froze.

"If you leave," Raves snapped, his voice cracking through the tension, "I'll refuse the marriage. Your family will lose everything."

Hazel hesitated, her fists clenched at her sides, teeth biting into her lip.

Raves turned his bloodied hand over and sneered. "This is not Bloodrose academy Dune, don't you dare involve yourself in something that has nothing to do with you."

Dune's eyes narrowed. Just slightly. His words were soft. "Stop it, or this time, you'll lose more than your face."

"How dare you mock me you-" Raves charged. Steel hissed through the air, reckless and loud.

Dune didn't flinch.

He caught the blade mid-swing with his bare hand, then, in one fluid motion, his other hand snapped up. Steel flashed and Blood splattered.

A scream ripped through the room.

"His arm!"

"He cut his arm off!"

Raves fell, clutching the stump where his arm had been. His sword clattered to the marble beside it. Dune's fist cracked into his jaw before he hit the ground, knocking him unconscious in one final, brutal strike.

The nobles stood frozen. No one breathed. Only the soft dripping of blood echoed across the hall.

That was when Richard Amellia entered.

He scanned the room, Hazel, Dune, the ruined Rodeny heir, and spoke with the poise of someone far too comfortable with disaster.

He bowed to Rodeny's "My apologies to the Rodeny family. I'll send a healer to restore young Raves's hand."

He didn't glance at Hazel.

"Dune. You should leave."

Dune stared at him. A long, silent look.

Coward.

Without a word, he turned and walked out. The doors groaned shut behind him, the wind biting against his skin as he stepped into the night.

Well, that was fun. He walked for few minutes in the dark streets of Rendely.

But as he turned the another corner, a shadow peeled away from the darkness, tall, composed, with a presence so heavy it made the air grow cold.

Azrael Rodeny.

Azrael Rodeny stepped out of the shadows, gleaming, and deadly. His res eyes locked onto Dune, emotionless, cold, burning with something deeper than anger.

His presence felt like a guillotine descending in slow motion.

He walked with quiet purpose, each step echoing off the stone walls. His black red coat fluttered slightly with each stride, boots tapping like war drums.

"You've made a mess tonight," he said, voice low and even. "I'm honestly amazed, it wasn't enough for you to humiliate Raves during the test... but you had to do it again today."

He stopped just a few feet away, tilting his head slightly. The way he looked at Dune wasn't with rage, it was with detachment. Like a butcher sizing up meat. "It's not like i care, but my father does."

Azrael continued, almost casually. "What do you think i should do Dune, what would you do if you were me?"

Dune's jaw clenched. He instantly tried to summon his Neba, to ready himself, but the moment the Neba stirred inside him, a searing pain lanced through his chest like lightning.

His breath hitched. Limbs went numb. The sword he tried to form fizzled into nothing.

Azrael sighed and stepped closer.

"Sharp senses, you're truly a prodigy, too bad you're inexperienced and still a boy."

Azrael suddenly moved, delivering punche on Dune's face. Then another came. A sharp punch slammed into Dune's ribs. Then a knee drove into his gut. A boot cracked across his jaw, then another. Azrael didn't waste time. Every strike had weight, rhythm, and intent.

Each hit was pain, but more than that, it was punishment. Dune crumpled but didn't scream. Blood dripped from his lips, but his teeth stayed clenched.

Azrael grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up, eyes level.

"Just hurry up and apologize, kneel and beg for mercy, and i will stop."

Dune stared back through the blood in his eye. He grinned "i'm sorry, please stop... it hurts."

Azrael's rised an eyebrow, then chuckled.

"shameless idiot!"

"You really don't get it," he muttered.

The next wave of pain nearly knocked Dune unconscious. Not from the hits, but from something deeper. Every nerve in his body lit up, Azrael's ability made pain louder.

Dune's body gave out. He slumped against the wall, wheezing, barely holding himself upright.

His swollen face lifted, and he smiled. A weak, blood-slick grin.

Azrael looked down at him. Disgust flickered across his face, just for a moment.

"I'm tired," he said, turning away, voice cold. "Just stay out of family matters. Or next time, I won't stop."

He disappeared into the dark, vanishing the same way he'd come.

And Dune was left alone, broken and bleeding.

The pain was immense, but somehow, sitting there in the dark, he chuckled. Quiet, breathless, almost delirious. It hurt to laugh. Every inhale was a knife. But he couldn't help it.

Maybe it was the absurdity of it all. Maybe it was the fact that he was still alive. Or maybe it was just because Azrael had expected him to cry, and he hadn't.

I still couldn't figure out his ability though, how can anyone even defend themselves against something like that?

The laughter faded into ragged breathing.

Then footsteps rushed in, light, quick.

"Dune!"

Silvie dropped to her knees beside him, her eyes going wide the moment she saw his face.

"Gods... Who did this to you—? Dune, stay with me!" She reached for his hand, trembling.

"Talk to me!"

Dune's vision blurred. His head lolled back, breath slowing. And everything went black.