The Arranged Suitor Was the Kidnapper

Simultaneously, a blade grazed Ort’s cheek, embedding itself in the stone floor beside him.

His terror-stricken face was reflected in the azure-glowing blade.

Zenox calmly observed the trembling Ort from above.

Though his expression seemed outwardly impassive, the truth was quite the opposite.

His emotions had become so intensely turbulent that they failed to manifest externally.

“Did you infiltrate the Krassium Grand Duchy estate?”

Ort reflexively raised his head.

Witnessing his startled reaction, Zenox was convinced his words had struck true.

The missing puzzle pieces had finally fallen into place. Yet the completed picture differed entirely from what he had envisioned.

On the day Whitie had fled the estate, the fire hadn’t been a mere accident.

An intruder seeking the fox orb had been present, and the blaze had erupted during his escape.

Because of that incident, Laria had sustained horrific trauma, leaving her terrified of flames to this day.

To only now uncover the truth – it was far, far too late.

The killing intent he could no longer suppress burst forth in an overwhelming torrent.

Zenox’s chest rapidly expanded and contracted with ragged breaths. Should he lose control for even an instant, he might tear the miserable wretch before him to shreds.

Exposed to his unbridled aura, Ort gasped for air.

“Ugh… Urgh…”

Drained of all color by sheer, primal terror, spittle dribbled from Ort’s agape mouth.

Observing his pathetic, cowering state, Zenox tightened his grip upon his sword’s hilt. The blade impaled in the floor quivered violently in response.

Snapping Ort’s neck would be an effortless task, far too mundane.

Yet he refrained, knowing it would undoubtedly displease Laria.

Even if unable to aid her directly, he couldn’t undermine her plans through rash actions.

With a soft hiss, the sword slowly withdrew from the ground.

“You would be wise to perform your duties as an informant diligently.”

The voice straining to suppress his emotions emerged as a hoarse rasp.

“If you harbor any other intentions…”

His blazing golden eyes flitted briefly toward Ort’s severed arm.

“Then you’ll lose more than just a limb.”

With that, Zenox turned and strode away.

Pausing to lean against the wall, he dragged his palm down his face.

No matter how fiercely he struggled, his turbulent emotions refused to subside.

If Laria were to witness him in this state, she would undoubtedly flee in terror.

In the wake of his tempestuous fury, only a profound sense of impotence remained like smoldering embers.

-It was agonizing.

Laria’s words echoed incessantly in his mind.

He had vowed to protect her, yet couldn’t even prevent a single intruder from inflicting such harm.

An overwhelming urge to inflict violence upon himself welled within.

As the elongating shadows stretched across the ground, Zenox fought to regain his composure.

Though yearning to seek out Laria and confirm her well-being, he resisted the impulse. He had informed her of his intended return to the North…

More importantly, her potential reaction weighed heavily upon his mind.

Ever since their visit to Brioschel, Laria had behaved in an inexplicably awkward manner around him.

Why did such unease plague him?

As if fearing Laria’s departure.

The mere prospect of enduring such an ordeal again was unendurable.

Rather than journeying northward, Zenox instead made his way to the Grand Duchy estate.

Not only would the travel time be shorter, but he could receive reports within a day’s time at the estate.

Having informed Laria of his northern travels, he had intended to handle affairs at the estate for a couple of days.

Ensconced at the Grand Duchy, Zenox tackled the mounting workload in its entirety.

Immersing himself in his duties provided a temporary respite from his turbulent thoughts.

Yet old habits resurfaced as Zenox absentmindedly toyed with his ring.

The once brilliantly gleaming band appeared dull and lifeless, like a faded star.

“Master.”

At Verdo’s call, Zenox lifted his gaze.

With a nod, he acknowledged the man standing behind Verdo – the one assisting Marcel in the northern region.

“It appears the Rubenta Krassium clan has sought refuge among the Wolf clans.”

The man’s report prompted Zenox to stroke his jaw contemplatively.

In the northern lands, including the Krassium, seven clans formed the core Wolf nobility.

Though the Black Wolf Krassium clan stood at the center, the other six wielded formidable power and prestige in their own right.

“And the Lapius clan has been conducting extensive mercenary recruitment.”

Rubenta’s objective was clear – to incite rebellion.

Having defected to another clan, he would undoubtedly attempt to manipulate the clan heads through mind control.

Yet Zenox hadn’t anticipated such brazen preparations for open warfare.

“Apparently, there have been frequent meetings with the other clans as well…”

As the man’s report trailed off, the implication hung heavily.

If the six clans united their forces, even the Krassium would struggle to maintain control.

Yet Zenox merely scoffed dismissively.

“It’s intriguing to witness whether mind control or the Krassium holds greater sway.”

Meeting the man’s gaze directly, Zenox issued his command.

“Circulate a decree.”

“…”

“Declare that any who aid Rubenta won’t escape the Krassium’s retribution.”

The man’s shoulders trembled slightly.

“I’ll convey it immediately.”

As he continued his report, Zenox processed the documents before him.

Amidst this routine, an unexpected visitor arrived.

The instant Tigur entered the study, Zenox rose abruptly from his seat.

He had explicitly instructed Tigur to remain vigilantly by the Rohan family’s side. For him to disobey those orders could only signify a grave occurrence.

So urgent was the matter that Tigur neglected all formalities, cutting straight to the heart of the issue.

“Lady Laria has vanished.”

Though a myriad of scenarios flashed through his mind in that brief instant, it was undoubtedly the worst possible outcome.

“…Where.”

Zenox repeated the question, unaware of the tremor in his own voice.

“She entered the Imperial Palace but didn’t come out, even after an extended period…”

Without waiting for Tigur to finish, Zenox immediately departed the Grand Duchy estate.

Disregarding protocol, he stormed into the Imperial Palace grounds unchallenged. Zenox made his way toward the outer palace where Laria had last been seen.

The distant voices reaching his ears only hastened his strides.

Upon arrival, a crowd had already gathered.

“How could you send my sister into an unknown realm without proper verification!”

The raised voice belonged to Herdin, his customary apathy utterly absent as rage consumed him.

His target was none other than Ishel himself.

“Z-Zenox.”

Belatedly noticing Zenox’s presence, Ishel swallowed hard upon meeting his gaze.

An instantaneous hush fell over the surroundings.

Even the irate Herdin clamped his mouth shut.

“Explain the situation… concisely.”

With ashen features, Ishel haltingly began his story.

Laria had opened a door that had remained sealed for centuries, venturing inside but failing to reemerge.

Ishel had urgently summoned all the palace sorcerers, yet the door refused to open once more…

Zenox extended his hand toward the firmly shut door.

Grasping the handle, he pulled with all his might, but it wouldn’t budge an inch.

Though no sorcerer himself, Zenox sensed the presence of potent magic akin to the barrier Laria had erected at the dueling grounds.

“Stand back.”

At Zenox’s terse command, all present hastily retreated.

As he brought his sword crashing down, the door reverberated with the impact.

Yet despite its ordinary appearance, not even a scratch marred its surface.

Slowly closing his eyes, Zenox focused his concentration.

In the instant all his energy coalesced into a single point, he unleashed his sword in a sweeping arc.

Baaang!

The resounding shockwave caused the entire structure to tremble, eliciting silent gasps of horror from the onlookers.

A faint fracture line now traced the path of Zenox’s blade.

Could brute force truly resolve this?

Startled, Ishel urgently called out to Zenox.

“W-Wait, Zenox! Stop for a moment!”

Yet Zenox’s senses were closed to Ishel’s pleas.

As he prepared to strike the fractured point once more…

“Forcibly destroying it could trigger unforeseen consequences!”

Zenox’s body froze in place.

The strength drained from his grip as his sword clattered noisily to the ground.

“For now, we should wait and observe. It may not be that she can’t leave, but rather that she chooses not to.”

Calmly and rationally, Ishel reasoned with Zenox.

If any harm had befallen Laria, Zenox’s wrath would undoubtedly ensue – a potential national calamity.

His prophetic dream hadn’t foretold Zenox demolishing the Imperial Palace.

Thus, they could only cling to the faintest shred of hope.

Zenox stood motionless, his gaze fixated unwaveringly upon the unyielding door.

There was nothing he could do.

Nothing but wait.

From that day onward, Zenox awaited Laria’s return without eating, resting, or sleeping.

Half a day, a full day, two days, three…

As time elapsed, the mana overload he had long suppressed began to gnaw at his sanity.

What if she never returned?

He should never have left her alone.

When auditory hallucinations finally manifested, Zenox reclaimed his sword.

None could halt Zenox’s descent into madness.

And at last, after a full week had passed, the door opened.