Father’s Last Gift
1524 Words
The crypt smelled like time had died and rotted in place.
Thick, cold air.
Old stone soaked in centuries of grief.
Dust that tasted like forgotten funerals.
Moonlight bled down the narrow stone stairs in thin silver knives, barely touching the floor—turning every corner into a trap of shadow and marble.
Sarcophagi lined the walls like silent judges.
Grand tombs carved with the Valthorne crest—crescent moon pierced by a sword—staring down with blank, accusing eyes.
Aryan stood motionless over the small iron-bound chest, ledger open in his blood-crusted hands.
The parchment felt impossibly fragile, like it would turn to ash if he breathed too hard.
He read the final line again.
And again.
My wife poisons me. Cassian knows.
He helps her measure the dose.
If you find this, Aric—my son—know I loved you.
Avenge us both.
Baron Valthorne’s handwriting—shaky at the end, but unmistakable.
The same father Aryan (Aric) had never truly known.
The same father whose death certificate read “weak heart.”
The same father whose murder had been sold as natural causes while the killers divided the estate.
Aryan’s fingers closed around the paper until it creaked like breaking bone.
Lira stepped closer, torch flame dancing across her dirt-streaked face.
“Is that… everything?”
Aryan nodded once—voice rough.
“Proof.
Poison schedules.
Payments to apothecaries.
Cassian’s signature on the delivery receipts.
Everything.”
Renn shifted nervously behind them, eyes darting to the stairs.
“We have it. Let’s go before more come.”
Aryan shook his head.
“Not yet.”
He folded the ledger with reverent care and slipped it inside his cloak—next to his heart.
Then he turned to the largest sarcophagus.
The one carved with extra care.
The one with fresh chisel marks still visible under the dust.
His father’s tomb.
Aryan laid both palms flat against the marble lid.
Strength: 32
He pushed.
Stone groaned like a dying giant.
Dust cascaded in slow waterfalls.
Centuries of seal cracked and gave way.
The lid slid open with a deep, grinding scream that echoed up the stairs.
Inside: skeletal remains wrapped in rotted silk the color of old blood.
A rusted longsword laid across the ribs.
And resting on the breastbone—a small black crystal pendant, no bigger than a child’s thumb, hanging from a thin silver chain.
The moment Aryan’s fingers closed around it—
[Hidden Artifact Detected]
Item: Baron Valthorne’s Vengeance Pendant
Effect: Stores one major betrayal memory. Upon activation, releases the stored memory as a devastating psychic attack that shatters minds (single-use, non-recoverable).
Stored Memory: The Night of Poisoning – Lady Seraphine Valthorne & Lord Cassian Valthorne (full visual and auditory record)
Aryan’s breath caught.
His father hadn’t just suspected.
He had known.
He had prepared this final weapon—knowing he would never live to use it.
Aryan slipped the chain over his neck.
The pendant settled against his chest—warm, almost alive.
[Vengeance Mark Upgraded – Critical Priority]
Cassian Valthorne – Co-conspirator in patricide
Lady Seraphine Valthorne – Primary poisoner
Bonus: Devour both simultaneously → Permanent +10 to all base stats + Legendary Skill Unlock
Aryan closed the sarcophagus lid with slow, deliberate gentleness.
He placed one hand on the cool marble.
“Thank you, Father.
I’ll finish what you started.”
He turned to the group—eyes burning crimson in the torchlight.
“We have proof. We have a weapon. Now we—”
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Many.
Above.
Betrayal Sense exploded—dozens of red markers swarming like hornets.
They were surrounded.
“Up the stairs. Now. Move!”
They ran.
The trapdoor above burst open.
Torchlight flooded down like spilled blood.
Guards poured in—fifteen, twenty—black plate armor, swords drawn, spears leveled.
“The escaped slave! Kill them all! Lord Cassian wants no witnesses!”
Aryan shoved the group behind a row of tombs.
“Stay low. Don’t move until I say.”
He stepped forward alone—into the torchlight.
The captain—broad-shouldered, scarred cheek—spotted the ledger bulge in Aryan’s cloak.
“Hand over the papers, whelp. Cassian wants them burned. Along with you.”
Aryan tilted his head.
Betrayal Sense screamed crimson.
[Hidden Truth: Cassian paid this captain triple to ensure the crypt is sealed and burned with everyone inside—no survivors, no ledger, no proof.]
Aryan’s voice came out calm—dangerously calm.
“You were going to kill us anyway.”
The captain barked a laugh.
“Smart little bastard. Too bad it won’t save you.”
He raised his spear.
Aryan whispered.
Vengeance Surge – Activated.
Power detonated inside him like a star going nova.
Strength: 64
Agility: 72
Vitality: 66
The world crawled.
He became red lightning.
First spear thrust—missed by a whisper.
Aryan seized the shaft, yanked the guard forward, drove dagger up through chin into brain.
Body dropped before it could scream.
Second guard swung a mace.
Aryan ducked inside the arc, slashed throat—arterial spray painted the wall in slow crimson arcs.
Third and fourth charged together.
Aryan spun—short sword and dagger crossing in a perfect X.
One lost both arms at the elbows.
The other lost his head at the neck.
The rest hesitated—terror blooming in their eyes.
Aryan whispered again.
Shadow Whisper.
“Confess your sins to each other. Loud.”
Eyes glazed.
They turned on one another.
One guard spoke first—voice cracking:
“I took Cassian’s gold to poison the manor well last winter.
Twenty slaves died screaming.
I laughed.”
Another:
“I sold Lira’s brother to the crystal worms myself.
Watched them eat him alive.
Took bets on how long he’d scream.”
[Double Major Betrayal Detected – High Potency]
Aryan stepped between them.
“Devour.”
Black energy roared—twice.
Both men shrieked, clawing at their chests as though their hearts were being torn out through ribs.
[Successfully Devoured Double Major Betrayal]
Vengeance Points +620
Level Up! Level 11 → 14
All base stats +20
New Active Skill Unlocked: Vengeance Chain (Lv.1) – Chain a devoured betrayal to infect the next target within 10 meters (Cooldown: 5 min)
HP Overflow: 300/300 → 500/500
The guards crumpled—empty husks.
Silence crashed back into the crypt—broken only by the group’s ragged breathing.
They stared at Aryan—blood-drenched, eyes glowing like forge embers.
Lira’s voice was barely a whisper.
“You’re… not human anymore.”
Aryan wiped the dagger on a dead guard’s cloak.
“I stopped being human the night Rohan sent that message.”
He walked back to the sarcophagus.
Laid one hand on the marble again.
“I’ll use it well, Father.”
Then he turned to the stairs.
“More are coming. Side passage—Lira, lead.”
She nodded—eyes fierce now, not afraid.
“Behind the altar. Hidden door to the gardens.”
They moved—single file through the narrow passage.
Halfway through—the manor alarm bell shattered the night.
Louder.
Angrier.
Desperate.
Guards above—twenty, thirty—thundering down the main stairs.
Aryan stopped.
“Keep moving. I’ll cover.”
He turned back.
Vengeance Chain – Activated.
He focused on the dead captain’s corpse.
Lingering betrayal energy still crackled.
He chained it.
The black thread shot upward—straight into the first descending guard.
The man screamed as the full memory of the poisoned well slammed into his mind.
He spun—sword flashing—cutting down his own comrade.
Chaos erupted above.
Screams.
Clashing steel.
Betrayal feeding on itself.
Aryan slipped back into the passage.
Joined the group.
They burst into the overgrown outer gardens—moonlit, wild, perfect cover.
The manor behind them—torches flaring, shouts of confusion, men turning on men.
They ran.
Through hedges.
Over low walls.
Into the deep forest.
They didn’t stop until the manor lights were tiny dying stars on the horizon.
They collapsed beside a narrow stream.
Breathing like hunted animals.
Alive.
Aryan knelt—washed blood from his face in the cold water.
The pendant pulsed faintly against his chest—like a second heartbeat.
He looked at them—Lira, Renn, Mara, the three silent elders.
“We have the ledger.
We have proof.
We have my father’s last weapon.”
Lira asked—voice steady now.
“What now?”
Aryan stood slowly.
The moonlight caught his face—half in shadow, half in silver fire.
“Now we rest one day.
Heal.
Plan.”
He touched the pendant.
“Then we go back.”
His voice dropped to a lethal whisper.
“We find Cassian.
We find Lady Seraphine.
We make them confess—everything.”
He looked toward the distant manor—eyes burning crimson.
“And then…”
The words hung like smoke.
“We end them.
We devour them.
We burn their name from the world.”
The moon watched—silent, cold, approving.
The Devourer had his father’s blessing.
The hunt had entered its final, merciless phase.
To be continued…
- Writer
