Akashic Records of the Bastard Child Engaged to a Goddess

Chapter 100 Beethoven?s Moonlight Macabre? (R-18)

Holy Sword Tournament Arc II

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(POV: Akashic Records)

In the opulent confines of one of the Duke's magnificent residences nestled within the darkened heart of Zarbon city, Duke Veltuor, a man of vast influence and indomitable spirit, abruptly awoke to the haunting strains of a piano echoing through the ornate halls. His eyes flickered open, like twin orbs of flickering candlelight, as he gazed upon the resplendent visual masterpiece that was the instrument of ebony and ivory.

Intrigued yet perturbed by the late-night serenade, Veltuor's brow furrowed in a mix of curiosity and anger.

"Who would dare disturb the sanctity of my abode with such audacious disregard for the hour?" (Veltuor)

His wife, peacefully slumbering beside him, remained undisturbed, blissfully ignorant of the unfolding enigma.

Duke Veltuor detached himself from his bed, a silken cocoon of tranquility, and gingerly placed one foot upon the cold marble floor.

A silent smile graced his lips as he glanced towards his wife.

The very air seemed heavy, pregnant with foreboding, as Veltuor stepped into the moonlit labyrinth of the mansion.

His footsteps, muffled yet deliberate, reverberated through the stillness, a symphony of trepidation and urgency.

Eyes trained upon the ground, his gaze met a horrifying tableau: crimson rivers staining the pristine alabaster stone, like macabre brushstrokes on a morbid canvas.

"W-w-what is this?!" he exclaimed.

His heart raced, pounding within his chest.

He followed the crimson trail, each step carrying him closer to the foyer.

A gasp escaped his quivering lips, his breath catching in his throat like a moth in a spider's web, as his disbelieving eyes beheld the grotesque apotheosis of his worst nightmares.

"N-N-NO! NO!! NOOO!!!" (Veltuor)

Before him, suspended from the ceiling, were the lifeless forms of nine of his guards, headless and dripping with blood.

He fell to the ground frozen.

"Who did this?" he muttered.

With trembling hands, Veltuor pushed himself up, his voice choked with both disbelief and anger.

"Who's there?" he shouted into the oppressive silence, his words echoing through the ornate halls.

But there was no response, only the haunting melody of the piano continued to permeate the air.

A cold shiver coursed through Veltuor's body, his legs stained with the blood of his guards.

Fear clawed at his heart, threatening to tear it asunder.

Determined to protect himself, he reached out for the nearest weapon, a gleaming sword proudly displayed within an antique armor stand.

His grip on the sword tightened, his knuckles turning white as he held it out in front of him.

"Step out! Show yourself!"

Veltuor commanded, the tremor in his voice betraying his fear.

He cautiously followed the ethereal strains of the piano, his footsteps faltering but determined.

As he reached the source of the haunting sound, a room bathed in moonlight, his eyes fell upon a figure he had never before encountered.

Umbra, dressed in a black suit, adorned with a white decorative fabric around his neck, and wearing menacing white gloves, sat at the piano.

His black hair gracefully swayed with each melancholic note he played.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, Veltuor found his voice again.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice wavering slightly.

Umbra's lips curved into a sinister smile, his voice silky and smooth like velvet cascading over the crescendo of a fallen empire.

"I am a spirit," Umbra replied, his words dripping with sinister charm.

Veltuor instinctively recoiled.

"You're no spirit! You're a murderer!" Veltuor retorted, his voice laden with accusation.

Umbra's smile widened, his eyes brimming with malevolence.

"Merely a spirit, carrying out the orders of my highly venerated master," he revealed, his words ominously reverberating within the mansion.

Veltuor's knees quivered beneath him.

"Who... Who is your master?" he managed to stammer, his eyes locked onto Umbra's shadowy figure.

The room seemed to grow darker, the atmosphere thick with an ominous presence.

A deep sigh escaped Umbra's lips as he leaned back against the piano, in his eyes an eerie delight.

"Ah, my dear... umh... Veltuor, if only you knew... My master is someone who is most exalted - Lumiere Del Silva, justice given form... a being most generous," Umbra explained, his tone dripping with reverence and a hint of sadistic pleasure. "Perhaps in the afterlife, I shall regale you with tales of his noble and resplendent existence."

Veltuor's heart pounded in his chest.

Before him stood not only a murderer but a devout follower.

Panic flooded his veins.

He desperately searched for a way to barter his fate.

"Please, I beg you!" he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation. "I'll give you riches beyond imagination, anything you desire... Just spare me!"

Umbra's malevolent smile widened, a wicked amusement in his eyes.

"Hm...? Money is of no consequence to me," he replied, his words dripping with sinister delight. "Your prayers, however, may bring you some solace in the final moments."

As he spoke, a black energy coalesced around his arm, morphing into a grotesque claw made of shadow.

Magic Art: [Shadow Claw]

Veltuor's horror reached its peak as Umbra's claw slashed through the air, an extraordinary force tearing through his flesh. Agonizing pain seized every inch of Veltuor's being, reducing him to a writhing mass of torn flesh and shattered bones. Blood pooled around him, staining the once opulent floor in macabre hues.

Yawning, Umbra dismissed the savagery he had just unleashed.

There was no trace of remorse or empathy.

"Perhaps I shall indulge in a few more tunes before returning to my esteemed master," he mused, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the piano keys.

The haunting melody of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata echoed through the desecrated hall, a twisted symphony of death and despair.

Whereas all the other artificial spirits made by Lumiere were High Spirits, Umbra was a Great Spirit.

The reason he was much more powerful than his counterparts was because he was made from the the essence of Isadora. As such, Isadora?s Demon Lord seed fertilized his creation.

The same one he used to protect Lumiere against Eris? attack. The Unique Skill: [Black Hole].

Simply put, this was an artificial spirit that had the potential to become a Demon Lord.

...

Meanwhile,

Back at the cozy inn, Lumiere winced as Serena relentlessly tugged at his cheek, her anger still palpable in the air.

"I'm sorry, Serena," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I couldn't control myself. Stellaria was manipulating my actions."

Stellaria, her body still bare and alluring, chimed in cheekily, "Well, it's not like you didn't enjoy it, Lumiere."

She flashed him a mischievous smirk, her teasing words dripping with seduction.

Infuriated, Serena released Lumiere's cheek, her eyes blazing with fury. "See if I care," she snapped, her voice icy and filled with hurt.

Lumiere scrambled to apologize, but she dismissed him with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I don't want to hear it, Lumiere."

He immediately noticed she called him "Lumiere."

"( I've never seen Serena get angry... or jealous... what's going on...? )" (Lumiere)

Just as the tension seemed unbearable, Stellaria wrapped her arms around Lumiere in an embrace, pressing him tightly against her voluptuous figure.

"Don't worry, Lumiere," she cooed, her voice gentle and comforting. "I'm here for you."

Her hardened nipples brushed against his face, eliciting a faint blush from Lumiere. Before he could reciprocate or protest, he managed to break free from her grasp.

"Enough, Stellaria!" (Lumiere)

Serena, still seething with anger though now silent, shot daggers at Lumiere with her eyes.

"Stopping Stellaria's advances already?" she spat, her words laced with bitterness.

Lumiere, his patience dwindling, chided Stellaria. "That's enough already. You've caused enough confusion as it is," he scolded, a note of frustration coloring his tone.

"Where's Isadora?" he demanded, his brow furrowed in concern.

Stellaria yawned lazily, as if bored by the entire conversation. "Ugh... you both are no fun."

She extended her hand, summoning a transparent energy cube with her sub-skill, [Spatial Cage].

Inside the cube, Lumiere's heart sank at the sight of Isadora, trapped and powerless. The gravity within the cube held her firmly in place, rendering her immobile.