The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 411: A Little Boy

Chapter 411: A Little Boy

Yorian found satisfaction in following her lead, embracing human methods, as he was safeguarded by this human. He had not forgotten the sensation of being protected by her, similar to when they had escaped Prince Cian’s guest mansion in Othinia. He was prepared to relish it once more and revel in the thrill through human means.

As they reached the rear of the mansion and ventured down the seemingly deserted and eerily quiet corridor, Oriana’s sigh of relief resonated. A content smile graced her lips, signifying their successful passage past the guards without detection.

"See, I’m rather skilled at this," Oriana whispered with a sense of pride.

"You certainly are," Yorian replied in a hushed tone, "Although, it would have been significantly quicker if we had made use of my teleportation abilities."

Oriana’s expression bordered on a glare as she retorted, "Why didn’t you suggest that earlier?" Her tone held a hint of accusation.

He raised an eyebrow. "Who was it that silenced me earlier?"

Oriana realized her oversight but was not one to easily admit to it. "Well, we shouldn’t rely on our powers for trivial matters. Let’s conserve them for when they’re truly needed," she declared, averting her gaze from Yorian and directing it down the lengthy corridor. "Have you been here before, Lord Yorian?"

"No, I’ve only assessed this location from the outside. I needed to prepare a magic spell to shield both of us from detection, given the strong presence of black magic within this place," he explained. "Can you sense the black magic?"

"I can, and it’s growing stronger in that direction," she responded, pointing ahead toward the corridor.

"I’ve concealed our presence so we won’t be detected here, at least," Yorian informed her. "But as we proceed, you must remain vigilant."

Oriana nodded in acknowledgment, fully aware of the need for caution ahead.

They advanced in silence, their cautious steps echoing in the corridor as they sensed the ominous presence of dark, malevolent magic intensifying. Eventually, they came to a halt in front of a pair of imposing double doors, beyond which the gloomy and sinister aura seemed to emanate.

Oriana glanced at Yorian, silently questioning whether this was the room they sought. Yorian nodded in confirmation, and they both refrained from speaking, wary of alerting anyone within.

As Oriana extended her hand toward the door, ready to touch the shroud of black magic enfolding it, Yorian apprehensively grabbed her hand, his gaze a silent warning that the act might be perilous.

She gently patted his wrist with her other hand, seeking to reassure him and silently urging him to release her hand. Reluctantly, Yorian complied, though he remained skeptical. She was, after all, the Black Witch herself, and perhaps she could handle it.

Oriana’s fingers made contact with the veil of black magic surrounding the door, but in the next instant, her entire body froze. Her eyes clenched shut, and her face twisted with the agony of a tormenting sensation.

Concerned, Yorian hastily pulled her back, her body trembling uncontrollably. She appeared in shock, her hands gripping his clothes, her face contorted with pain pressed against his chest, and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Yorian held her firmly, and whisked them both away from that location, disappearing in an instant.

Yorian transported Oriana back to Erich’s guest mansion, where he had already secured a room. Without hesitation, he guided her into the room, and as they entered, the lamps lit up on their own. Yorian’s usually composed and pleasant countenance now looked serious and bore a visible trace of worry for the young witch.

Oriana, still deeply affected, was led to a couch, where she took a seat. Yorian knelt before her and inquired, "Are you alright?"

With teary eyes, Oriana gazed at the man before her, shaking her head to indicate that she was not alright. Her condition appeared more severe than the typical effects of malevolent black magic.

Yorian checked her pulse and conjured a small elixir in his hand, offering it to her. "Drink this."

"I don’t need this.... I’m not affected by that black magic," she said and tried to stop her tears while wiping her cheeks, but tears won’t stop anymore.

"Then, did you see something?" Yorian probed, well aware of the potential impact of such magic on a Queen of Witches.

Yorian’s worry deepened, for being affected by magic was preferable than witnessing something so distressing. Evil magic typically only caused pain, but the distress Oriana displayed hinted at something far worse.

What she had witnessed seemed profoundly painful, potentially affecting her for an extended period, for she would carry the weight of another’s suffering within her. This malevolent magic was borne from the suffering of another individual, and it contains every moment of their torment.

"Take it. You’re weakened," Yorian persisted before continuing his inquiry.

Oriana silently accepted the elixir and drank it, her mind preoccupied with the distressing visions she had witnessed.

Once she had consumed the elixir, Yorian moved to sit beside her and gently asked, "What did you see?"

"A little boy," she replied, tears once more spilling from her eyes, as if she was the one suffering.

"Little boy?" Yorian asked.

She nodded, "That little boy is in pain. He...," her voice faltered, choking on her words as she broke down in tears.

Yorian reached for her hand and began to caress it in an attempt to soothe her, though it only caused her to cry more. Unable to resist her suffering, he gently embraced her and tenderly patted her head as her sobs continued.

"I... I could feel his pain... It hurts... hurts too much... he’s in pain," she said, clutching her heart and crying even more loudly. "My heart aches... I need to save him..."

Yorian remained by her side, listening to her sobs and fragmented words, offering his support as she struggled with the emotional turmoil.

Yorian’s thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of Oriana’s revelation. ’A little boy?’ he wondered, ’Could that boy in the vision be Prince Arlan? It’s likely, given that only his blood possesses the power to create such potent malevolent magic,’ he concluded. His mind whirled with questions. ’Has he been suffering since childhood? How long has this witch been concealed within the palace, wielding her powers in secret?’