A/N: It's me again. Thank you for your constant reviews (Guest, kuroshiragami0, and LadyHilariexxx – I really laughed at the thought of your Mama Bear mode comparison for Irene. She is indeed a mama bear for this chapter). To all readers, thank you for reading and your constant support. Luckily, I was able to finish the daunting tasks I had in my mind these past few days; I hope you enjoy this short update.
Irene was too stunned to speak in an attempt to console the child. No words escaped her lips as the child pleaded before her. No number of words could justify the intensity of the anger surging into her veins. Just as Irene was about to respond, Erza's small body suddenly went limp, and she fainted in her arms. Panic overwhelmed her as she held the unconscious child.
"Erza?"
Irene called out her name, but Erza remained still, her breaths shallow and uneven. She cursed under her breath, calling out for Heine and Juliet. Using her magic, she returned the scattered books to their shelves with a flick of her wrist, clearing the room as she laid Erza on her bed. The sight of the persistent nosebleed made her panic even more.
"Heine! Juliet! Get here now!" Irene's voice echoed through the palace halls.
"I-it hurts…" Erza cried in agony.
Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her small body writhing in immense pain. Irene leaned over her, trying to calm her racing thoughts as seconds felt like hours. She tried to recall any healing spells she had learned, but her mind was clouded with the thought of worsening her condition. Just in time, the door burst open, and Heine and Juliet rushed in.
"Lady Irene?!"
"Erza is burning up with fever." She stated.
Heine knelt beside the bedside table, rummaging something in the drawer. Upon seeing the lacrima, she immediately summoned the physician and informed them about the situation; Juliet moved closer to Irene as she assisted her in holding Erza's small frame. Irene took a step back, letting go of the child's hands. The world came to a standstill. The child's ragged breathing echoed in her mind, her eyes widening at the sight of the physician running towards them.
"How dare they?!" she asked, her voice breaking with a hint of indignation.
The still snow suddenly erupted into a blizzard, mirroring Irene's emotions. Her trembling hands were evident despite the gloves she wore. Without a word, she disappeared from their sight, teleporting herself to the magic academy.
She arrived at the academy grounds in an instant, the blizzard following her, swirling violently around the campus. Irene's eyes blazed with anger as she stormed through the hallways.
"Where is the headmaster?" she demanded as she saw some staff in the hall.
Her voice was icy, biting cold more than the blizzard she had caused. A startled apprentice shakily pointed towards the headmaster's office, too afraid to speak. She hastily strode towards his office, her mind reeling with anger. The door burst open, serving August with a feisty welcome. Despite his initial shock, he looked up in surprise.
"Irene, what is the meaning of this?" he asked, rising from his desk.
"What have you done to Erza?" Irene's voice trembled with rage.
"What?" he asked, bewildered.
"I warned you already, yet you pushed her to the brink, making her desperate to learn magic where, in fact, you know she can never wield it!"
"There seems to be a misunderstanding, Irene. Let us discuss this calmly and reason with each other."
"Calmly?" Irene's eyes flashed. "My child is suffering because of your academy's actions. I will not tolerate such actions until I know exactly what has been done and why."
"The child's care was not directly under my command, but she was-"
"Who, then?" Irene's voice was a sharp whip of anger. "Who is responsible for Erza?"
Silence bled, and it was deafening. August's silence was making Irene's anger boil over. With a flick of her wrist, she used her magic to destroy the other part of the office, revealing the blazing blizzard outside and sending shards flying all over the cold marble floor.
"Tell me who the magic instructor is before I destroy this entire academy!" she threatened, her voice echoing through the hall.
"It was Jiemma. Jiemma Orland, the Count of Orland, was the person supervising their magic class and their instructor."
Without another word, Irene disappeared again, leaving behind a raging blizzard that grew stronger by the second. He sat back in his seat, his face etched with worry, and used his magic to repair the damage Irene had caused.
"What have you done, Jiemma?" he asked as he stared at the damaged part of his office.
Angering Irene meant war, and he knew that Jiemma would be done for. The academy might even share some of her wrath if anything happens to the child. He merely hoped that the child was still alive, considering how Irene acted. If she's dead, there's a possibility that the academy will be turned into ruins. August sighed heavily.
The black cloak enveloping her body from head to toe seemed like a bad omen outside the Orland's estate; the blizzard swirling outside resembled her impending wrath. She stormed through the gates, her magic crackling in the air as she made her way to the main hall. Despite the guards' attempts to suppress her, they were sent flying backward by her sheer magical force. Irene found a seat in the grand hall and sat down, crossing her legs. More knights encircled her, but she remained unfazed, letting her cloak cover her scarlet hair. Her voice was calm yet filled with a menacing edge as she spoke.
"I demand an audience with the Count."
"I'm afraid we can't allow that," the head knight stated as he ordered his men to attack the intruder.
Before any of the guards could make a move, Irene merely tapped her fingers, activating her magic and creating a shockwave of energy, sending the guards flying sideways. Some collided with the walls, while others were knocked to the floor, groaning in pain.
The knights were frozen in place, their eyes wide with shock. Most of them hesitated, witnessing how formidable the intruder truly was. The sheer ease with which she had dispatched their comrades was enough to make their knees tremble.
"Do not make me repeat myself, or I will behead all of you this second. Summon the count at once," Irene's cold voice demanded.
A few minutes later, Jiemma appeared from the staircase; his senses tensed as he felt the intense magic power emanating from downstairs. Watching his men sprawling like papers on the ground, the sight of the intruder made his heart skip a beat. He approached cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the strange aura of the person sitting in the grand hall.
"Who are you, and what is the meaning of this ruckus at this hour?" he demanded.
Irene laughed, a sound devoid of humor, and revealed herself, pulling back her hood to expose her scarlet hair and piercing eyes. The sight shocked Jiemma. The Scarlet Moon was in front of him, her magic power insurmountable.
"Aside from your poor manners, it seems to me that you also lack tact, Jiemma. How can a mage like you not know my presence?" she asked, mocking him.
Jiemma's face twitched as he tried to maintain his composure. It was the first time he had seen the Scarlet Moon, the legendary figure who had remained a mere tale throughout his years in the kingdom. He had been in the kingdom for a decade but had never seen the Scarlet Moon. He thought it was just a story, a myth to entertain the masses. But seeing her now, in the flesh, was a surreal experience, a dream come true that only worsened his fear. He knew that someone of her caliber would not appear unless there were serious trouble. Swallowing hard, Jiemma hastily greeted her, bowing slightly in deference.
"I greet the Scarlet Sage. I-It is an honor to finally meet you," he stammered, his voice betraying his nervousness.
"Please forgive my insolence for not recognizing you sooner. Please rest comfortably-"
"Comfortably?" Irene raised her brows.
Irene felt mocked when Jiemma asked her to sit comfortably and discuss the matters calmly. The air crackled with her magic, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath their feet. She scoffed, her eyes narrowing with disdain.
"Trivial politeness is a luxury I do not have the patience for, Jiemma. You must be aware of why I am here." She took a step forward, causing Jiemma to flinch.
"Pardon? I have no idea-" he felt confused with such thought as he had no idea what brought the scarlet sage before him at this very hour.
"Silence!" Irene's voice cut through his words like a blade.
"You have harmed a child under my care, a child with no magical core whom you pushed to the brink of death."
With the mention of a child with no magical core, Jiemma's thoughts immediately returned to the scarlet-haired child he had punished last time. The striking similarity between the two made him realize the gravity of his mistake. What? The scarlet sage had a daughter with no magical core. His face turned ashen as the realization sank in, and a sense of dread washed over him.
"Erza," Irene commented, staring directly at his black orbs.
As his eyes met hers, Jiemma felt an overwhelming force compelling him to his knees. His legs turned to noodles, and he kneeled before her, unable to resist the powerful magic she wielded. He was certain it wasn't just fear or guilt; it was her magic. Shame washed over him as he looked up at her, seeing the cold fury in her eyes.
"I-I can explain," he whispered, his voice trembling.
"I have no time for your excuses or empty apologies, Jiemma…" she began. "Your actions will not be tolerated."
"Lady Irene, I assure you, it was never my intention to cause harm. I was merely disciplining her."
"And you thought whipping her was the way to do that?" Irene's eyes flashed with anger.
"N-no, I-I was only trying to help her reach her potential."
"Potential? You must be blind, I see." Irene's voice was icy.
"Should you receive the same punishment you inflicted on Erza for you to be disciplined?" she asked, grabbing his hair making him look at her as she summoned a magic whip.
Before Jiemma can utter a word, the first strike landed with a sharp crack. He bit his lips, suppressing his evident pain. Irene's eyes remained cold, and she smiled at the sight of him trying to hold on as he tried to remain strong. It fueled her sadistic nature, and she chuckled, enjoying the sight as she continued. Irene laughed maniacally, the sound echoing through the halls. She was enjoying the sight of Jiemma writhing in pain, his face contorted with fear and agony. She leaned in closer, her voice a chilling whisper.
"The legends you've read about me were quite censored," she said, her tone dripping with disdain.
"They only glorified parts of my persona in saving the kingdom. But did you not wonder why they called me the Scarlet Moon? Because I am the impersonation of the bad omen itself, the Scarlet Despair. They called me that for reasons because if this tiny head of yours doesn't know, I enjoy inflicting pain on people, and I even skin them alive."
Jiemma's eyes widened with horror. He was seeing nothing but darkness and the looming scarlet aura of Irene. He begged her to stop as he started to lose his sanity.
"Please, Lady Irene, have mercy!"
Her lips curled into a cruel smile. This is more like it, she thought to herself. With deliberate slowness, she stepped on his body, pinning him to the cold floor with her feet. Her heels dangerously pressed against his neck. Jiemma was on the ground trembling as his body was wracked with immense pain. Not content with the punishment she had already inflicted, Irene put pressure on his neck as she stepped on it, choking Jiemma in the process. He was turning red as he tried to resist her magic, but he felt powerless. He was like a worm being squashed mercilessly before her. Just as she was about to slice his neck with her enchanted heels, he was gone, causing her to step on the floor, making it crack. Seeing him in the distance, she raised her hand, trying to attack him, but before she could act, a strong hand prevented her. Before her materialized the archmage of the empire, his face just inches from hers. The same raging blizzard outside began to subside as he spoke.
"Enough, Irene." His concerned voice said.
Irene gritted her teeth, her fury blazing at the interruption. Of all people, the archmage had appeared, and he had spoiled her plan.
"Release me," she hissed, pulling her hand away from his grasp.
The halls of the county were buzzed when the Queen herself entered. Irene's anger flickered, momentarily subdued by the unexpected arrival. Anna's eyes widened, seeing an almost lifeless Jiemma before them. The archmage hesitantly took a step back as he checked on Jiemma.
"Irene, what happened?" Anna asked as she rushed to her side as if she was the one hurt.
"You ask the archmage about it. His mages don't seem to know how to deal with children." Irene stated, facing the long silver-haired man before her.
"You are willing to cause a scene for that child?" he asked, his eyes staring at hers.
"How amusing," Irene chuckled lightheartedly.
"It seems that you are interested in the child, too," she stated, her voice laced with a subtle hint of deflection.
Just as they thought the situation was under control, Irene noticed the black-haired child in the corner, her eyes blazing with anger. Before anyone could react, she raised her hand, summoning her magic and launching an attack in Irene's direction. Irene swiftly avoided the assault and countered with her own magic. In a flash, she cast a transformation spell, and the child's form began to shrink and change into a small, black rat.
"Be thankful. I often spare children." She said, looking down at her.
"I will take responsibility for this matter. Arrest Jiemma, and the magic tower will investigate this issue," the archmage said as he ordered the knights to arrest Jiemma.
As he turned around, he saw Irene leave. But just as she was about to step away after asking permission from the Queen, the silver-haired mage approached her as he gently but firmly held her wrist, making her halt in her tracks and look back.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Should there be any reason for me to stay?" Irene asked, knowing how the archmage often upholds due process and law over her qualms.
"Unless you wished to discuss your early return and rekindle old matters between us," Irene stated, making him loosen his grasp.
Heine sighed as she watched the once-raging storm outside subsided. Heine turned and watched as Juliet gently dabbed Erza's forehead with a damp cloth. The child's soft, ragged breathing made them uncertain about what to tell Irene regarding Erza's condition. Moments later, they both flinched as their master entered the room. Irene's eyes immediately fell on Erza, and she moved swiftly to the bedside.
"How is she?" Irene asked.
Heine and Juliet exchanged a nervous glance, neither wishing to be the first to speak. The air in the room grew tense as they hesitated, unsure of how to deliver the news without upsetting Irene further. Juliet finally mustered the courage to step forward.
"Erza's nosebleed had stopped, but her fever has not gone down."
Heine added quickly, "But she is stable now, and it seems that the potion takes time to reduce her fever. The physicians will monitor her closely, Lady Irene." Heine added.
"I should've just killed him there," Irene said as she sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the child's solemn face.
"Pardon? What stopped your business with the instructor?" Heine, unable to contain her curiosity, finally asked, interested in who on the right mind in the kingdom had stopped Irene's wrath.
Irene's expression darkened momentarily before she replied, "The archmage arrived."
"The Archmage? Has he returned this early? I thought the expedition was expected to end in a decade," Juliet's eyes widened in shock.
They both knew that Irene and the archmage were like water and oil. Though they were the mightiest sages in the kingdom, their ideologies often clashed, leading to frequent disagreements and a mutual desire to avoid each other's presence whenever possible.
"How dare he try to intervene to calm me down? He even had the audacity to ask for diplomacy when a child suffered because of Jiemma's cruelty. It's quite infuriating to think that I could never bring myself to twist his neck-" Irene paused, seeing Erza move in her sleep.
"E-Erza?" she asked as she clasped her hand.
"M-mommy… don't leave me," Erza sobbed in her sleep, making Irene's heart sink.
Mommy? Is she dreaming of her mother? She was speechless. It was the first time she felt her breath caught between her throat as if she had heard the cruelest words ever. Stabbed like a knife, she froze at the realization that Erza must've longed to have her parents beside her. Her birthparents. Irene's thoughts went blank with the thought of someone appearing before her to take Erza away from her. The dread in her heart was suffocating. It was quite similar to the feeling she had in her dreams.
The archmage returned to his magic tower, his long white cloak trailing behind him as he ascended the stairs. His servant, a young blonde-haired mage with a nervous disposition, handed him the papers he had requested.
"Is this all the information you could gather on her, Rufus?" he asked, his brows raised with disbelief.
"Yes, Master. The child's whereabouts and origins are unclear. She was merely a sea urchin in a small town in Fiore. There was nothing particularly special about her."
He frowned, his mind racing as he read through the sparse information. How could a child with no magic core, no lineage, and no discernible potential capture Irene's attention so completely? He muttered to himself.
He dismissed the servant with a wave of his hand, his patience wearing thin. He closed his eyes, a memory surfacing that he often wished he could forget. It was a sight that had haunted him for years—the image of Irene when he had first seen her in the coldest mountains of Zonia.
Three decades ago
Her brown orbs stared blankly, crying as she held a small piece of children's clothing in her arms, tears streaming down her face. Her sobs echoed in the secluded cave of the mountain. She spoke, her voice filled with anguish that pierced his heart. She looked up at him, and he saw her emaciated figure. It was as if she was punished for eternity, lost in her grief and despair.
"I killed her." Her tears had fallen onto the frozen ground, mingling with the snow as she clutched the tiny garment to her chest.
"Urgh, she was so small, so fragile," she had whispered through her sobs.
"My daughter"
"Don't tell me she remembers it?" he asked as he stared at his reflection through the glass as if talking to himself.
A/N: I'm sorry-WAHAHHA, what? Please share your thoughts. OMG, I can't believe this! See you on my next update.
