WINTER'S SWEET EMBRACE

"You’re... aren’t you... Maelle?"

Vincent stared in utter bewilderment at the white-haired girl slumped against the cold dungeon wall. She was beaten within an inch of her life, her body covered in deep whip marks and burns.

Before he could process the absurdity of the situation, it felt as though an invisible thread tied directly to his soul dragged him toward her with an undeniable urge to take her far away from this place.

’What the hell?! Is this the control Dee was talking about?!’

He tried with all his strength to fight the sensation, but the moment he resisted the command, a searing pain surged through his entire being. It felt as if his blood was burning him from the inside.

"Argh... Dammit! Whatever! Fine! You wanna get outta here? Then let’s get outta here!"

Dropping to one knee before her, Vincent reached out and grabbed the thick iron shackles binding her ankles. With a casual flick of his wrists, he snapped the iron like twigs. Maelle’s limp body slumped forward, tumbling directly into his arms. Whilst holding her, he broke off the remaining shackle binding her wrist, freeing her from captivity.

Looking down at her close up, Vincent’s heart sank. Her breathing was dangerously shallow and she was cold. Inhumanely cold. She was fading fast.

And if she dies... you die.

Deina’s words of warning echoed in his mind.

"Oh, hell no. I am not dying right when I’m about to get my first actual girlfriend!"

Without wasting another second, he hovered his hand over her bloody chest. A radiant golden-blue light flared from his palm – his divine healing power pouring directly onto her broken body.

Her deep whip wounds began to knit together, the bleeding stopped, and color slowly returned to her pale cheeks.

As he channeled his power, a thought struck him: ’Can I just use my divine portal to retreat back to the Divine Realm with her right now?’

He paused, weighing the idea, but quickly shook his head.

’No... a mortal would be crushed by the pressure. Then again... she did manifest genuine divine power when she summoned me... No! It’s not worth the risk. If I’m wrong, she dies, and I die with her. I need to get her somewhere safe in this world first.’

Suddenly, the metallic clacking of armored boots echoed far from the dark stone corridor outside the cell block, accompanied by panicked, echoing shouts.

"... The noise came from Princess Maelle’s cell! Hurry up!"

Vincent cut off the flow of his healing. "That’s good enough for now..." he muttered and gently rested her head against the stone wall.

Now that the blood and bruises were just about gone, he couldn’t help but notice that she was actually quite breathtaking. But he quickly cleared his thoughts and wrapped his jacket around her.

’No time for distractions.’

The sound of oncoming guards grew louder, with their footsteps fast approaching. Vincent raised his fist, preparing to simply obliterate the iron gate with a single punch, but stopped himself mid-swing. An idea sparked in his mind.

He looked up at the high shadowy ceiling of the cell, flared his white wings silently, and glided upward, tucking himself neatly into the rafters above the entryway.

A few seconds later, four men dressed in a mix of rugged bandit leather and stolen metal armor skidded to a halt outside the cell gate.

They stared in disbelief at the sight inside. The white-haired princess was no longer chained to the wall, and she was wrapped neatly in a pristine white jacket they had never seen before.

The two men at the front reached for the key ring at their belts. "We’ll go check inside. You two stay out here and watch, just in case."

Unlocking the chained gate, two of the four bandits pushed the creaking gate open and stepped into the cell, failing to look up into the dark shadows above their heads, because why would they?

Vincent hovered silently, listening to their conversation.

"Hey... whose white jacket is this?" the first bandit asked. "Where the hell did this come from? It definitely wasn’t here when we checked on her an hour ago."

"Dunno," the second one muttered, leaning down to inspect Maelle. "More importantly, how the hell did she get out of those heavy cuffs? Oh, shit, wait... look at her wrist! Looks like the crazy bitch literally tore her own flesh off pulling her hand through!"

"Hey, look over here, man! The cuffs are fucking smashed to pieces!"

"What?! How the hell did she do that?! Fuck... whatever. Luckily, she’s unconscious. Come on, let me help you move her to another cell block."

"Now, hold on a second, man," the first bandit purred as a dark, filthy grin spread across his face as he stared down at Maelle’s body.

"How’s about we have a little fun while we’re in here, huh? The boss is fast asleep down the camp, and she’s out cold. Let me and you take turns fucking her."

The second bandit glared at him. "What, are you fucking stupid?! You know the boss gets first dibs! Also, you know how much he likes fucking virgins! It’s his favourite pastime!"

"C’mon, man! We can just tell the boss that the intel he got from that redhead noble was a lie! Think about it. She obviously must have just been fucking with the prince! The boss’ll never know."

The second bandit hesitated, looking down at Maelle’s unconscious form, contemplating the offer. Finally, he spat on the floor. "Ahhh, fuck it. I’m taking her ass first."

"Haha! Say less, man!"

"Okay... I’ve heard enough." An icy voice echoed from above their heads.

Both bandits snapped their heads upward, but before their eyes could adjust to the dark ceiling, two hands descended from the shadows.

Vincent grabbed both of their heads with an iron grip and slammed their faces straight down into the hard stone floor.

CRACK!!!

Blood and teeth shattered against the rock as both men went instantly limp and unconscious

Out in the hallway, the two guarding bandits gasped in horror.

"WHAT THE–?!

"CALL THE BOSS! RING THE ALARM–"

Before the bandit could finish his scream, Vincent burst out of the cell. Flying at terrifying speed, he grabbed the screaming man’s head mid-flight and drove him face-first into the iron cell bars with sickening force. The man crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll.

Seeing his comrade get obliterated in seconds, the fourth bandit turned on his heel and fled down the dark corridor for his life.

Vincent caught the sight of a steel sword dropped by one of the fallen guards. He picked it up, feeling its weight, and tossed it forward like a javelin.

THWACK—SPLAT!

"NGHAAAAA!!!"

The blade flew through the air, slicing clean through the fleeing bandit’s left leg at the knee. The man let out a blood-curdling shriek as he tripped, crashing onto the stone floor and rolling around in a pool of his own spurting blood.

Vincent started gliding down the hallway.

The bandit’s face was pale with mortal terror as he stared at the glowing blue eyes and massive white wings of the young man coming straight for him. Trembling violently, he raised his shaking, blood-stained hand. A shimmering blue magic circle manifested before his palm.

"S-SUMMON!"

The magic circle brightened up, and with a sickening, wet squelch, a terrifying monstrosity of a giant spider – easily the size of a carriage – materialised in the narrow corridor.

"KILL THAT FREAK WITH THE WINGS!"

The giant spider let out an ear-piercing screech and launched its terrifying form straight toward Vincent.

Showing absolutely zero momentum of stopping, Vincent flared his white wings, accelerated to supersonic speed, and flew straight through the center of the giant beast.

SPLAT!

Green, gooey monster blood and shattered chitin exploded across the hallway as Vincent tore through the spider like a cannonball.

"N-NO! MY SUMMON–"

The bandit’s panic was abruptly cut short as Vincent grabbed the man’s head and slammed it violently into the stone floor, rendering him instantly unconscious.

"Eurgh! I’m covered in disgusting yuck! Brrrrr! Okay... that giant spider was actually really freaking scary."

Picking up the fallen broadsword from the floor, Vincent turned his attention to the man below him. Looking at the iron blade in his hand, a vivid core memory flashed inside his mind.

Five hundred years ago, in the back yard of his mother’s estate...

Natasha had set up a training dummy, handing a scrawny young Vincent a steel sword. "Alright, bozo. Slash it with full force. Don’t hold back."

Vincent took a deep breath, gripped the hilt, and swung with all his strength.

Slash!

The blade cut deep into the dummy. But to his horror, it didn’t feel like wood, straw or sand. It felt horribly soft, dense, and firm... exactly like cutting through flesh.

A hidden bag of red dye inside the dummy exploded, spraying red liquid all over his face and chest.

Vincent stared at his hands, then at the sword. He dropped the sword and let out a horrified scream.

"AHHHHH!"

He collapsed onto his knees, keeling over and vomiting wretchedly onto the grass.

Natasha burst into wild, hysterical laughter, clutching her stomach. "HA HA HA! PAAHAHAHA!"

From the mansion’s back door, Maribelle came flying like a protective streak of light, dropping to her knees beside him. "Vinny! What’s wrong, baby?!"

"M-M-Mama! Natasha...! Natasha made me kill someone!"

Maribelle looked at the dummy, then glared back at Natasha before turning to comfort Vincent. "Oh, baby, no... It’s not a real person. It’s just a special training prop."

"N-Not a real person? B-But it felt so real..."

Natasha walked over, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. "That’s the next phase of your training, kid. You’re going to slash, stab, thrust, and pierce your sword into these dummies until your hands are completely used to the sickening feeling of cutting through living flesh! Gweheheh!"

"You’re sick!"

"GWEH HEH HEH HEH!

Back in the present, inside the dark hallway...

Vincent snapped back to reality. His grip on the steel hilt tightened as he looked down at the unconscious bandits on the floor.

"From what I just heard you guys saying..." he whispered in a cold, lethal register, "you guys aren’t exactly good people. It’s best if I put an end to you now... especially since you know what I look like."

Steeling his resolve, he raised the blade and drove it straight through the chest of the last bandit he knocked out, piercing his heart in a single, clean motion.

This was his first kill. But thanks to Natasha’s horrifying training, it didn’t affect him as much as it would’ve otherwise.

Behind him in the corridor, the dead spider’s lingering corpse suddenly crumbled into fine gray ash. Seeing the summon vanish served as a chilling reminder of what would happen to him if Maelle died.

Without hesitation, Vincent swiftly ended the other three bandits, ensuring no one was left alive to raise an alarm.

He dropped the weapon and walked back into the cell. With extreme care, he scooped Maelle back up into his arms, pulling her close against his chest while ensuring his jacket kept her warm.

He moved quickly through the winding stone tunnels, searching for an exit that led directly out under the open sky. Luckily, this dungeon was situated inside a secluded, natural mountain cave completely separate from the main bandit camp down in the valley.

Reaching the mouth of the cave, Vincent flared his white wings, took a powerful leap off the cliffside, and shot into the starry night sky, flying as fast and as far away from the mountain range as possible.

Down in the forest below, a lone, heavily intoxicated bandit was standing against a tree, taking a leak in the woods.

Hearing the majestic rush of wind above, he stumbled backward, looking up at the sky with wide, drunken eyes.

Tracing a streak of white light soaring past the moon, he blinked and squinted.

"Hmm...? An angel?"