Claude has met his match, someone who could not only rival his menacing and dominating aura but make him feel just as desperate and helpless as she once did. Everyone keeps telling him that this was a mini version of him, who stood before him withou...
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3- Small Hands of a Forced Sinner with a Smile Of a Fairy
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The haunting echoes of the screams gradually faded, leaving behind a lingering silence as the chained body went limp.
A scoff escaped the lips of the young prince. Despite how confident they were earlier, they were quite frail beings.
With a wave of his hand, the three bodies vanished out of his sight.
Aeternitheos immediately turned toward Valeria with an inscrutable expression. The young prince stepped forward with a light, elegant pitter-patter to the maid, who was bathing in her puddle of crimson liquid, his jewel-red eyes first void of emotions.
Previously murderous jewel-red eyes softened at the sight of his trembling maid, who lay on the cold floor, her wounds pulsating with a dull ache. He supposed that this was the fate of Valeria Ravenscroft, who also met her demise after the death of the original Aeternitheos.
No one, even Valeria, deserved such a fate just because of her strong desire to survive in a capitalist and materialistic world.
Aeternitheos knelt beside Valeria, his small hands emanating a gentle warmth as he extended them toward her wounded side. A gentle stream of energy that had been a force of retribution moments ago now transformed into a healing touch. A soft glow enveloped Valeria's injuries, the ethereal light weaving a tapestry of restoration.
Valeria's injuries from the brutal attack were severe. The dagger that had been plunged into her side during the intrusion had inflicted deep wounds, causing significant internal damage by the skilful assassins. It was clear that they were on a mission to kill and leave no witnesses. The severity of the injury had left her in a critical condition, and her life hung in the balance.
The healing magic, a delicate tapestry of ethereal threads, began to materialize around his fingertips, each strand a manifestation of the ancient power coursing through him.
Shimmering with an otherworldly glow, the threads wove through the air in intricate patterns, responding to the silent commands of the young prince. It was a dance of energies, a ballet of mysticism that defied the limitations of Aeternitheos's tender age. The threads intertwined, forming a transient lattice that sought to mend the deep wounds inflicted upon Valeria.
Despite the potency of the magic, it became evident that Aeternitheos's two-year-old body had its limits. His graceful movements, while driven by determination, carried a hint of vulnerability as he struggled to breathe. His already pale skin turned even whiter as he manipulated life at his fingertips, getting suffocated from the strenuous use of mana for this almost impossible heal, on top of his earlier battle.
After all, he was essentially cheating Valeria from death.
Watching as Valeria's face twisted in pure pain now slowly melting away in relief, Aeternitheos pushed himself for a final surge in his powers: a magical soothing sensation that seemed to mend the fabric of her being.
