The Tyrant's Pet

<strong>Meanwhile…</strong>

"Ahh…"

Abel swung the shovel to rest over his shoulder, standing on the closed coffin he had harrowed all alone. He gazed at the surface of the coffin impatiently, wondering if he should split this coffin in half with Marsella in it, or wake her up in a much gentler manner.

"For fuck's sake, Abel. What in the world do you not understand with 'leave me the fuck alone?'" A muffled voice from within the coffin caressed his ears.

"I was just thinking about how to wake you up, sister." Abel chuckled, tapping his foot against the surface he was standing on. "It's nice to know you were very much awake."

"Anyone will wake up with all that sound you made while harrowing the land. This only shows you terribly need a workout."

<strong>Clack!</strong>

Marsella jolted when the tip of the shovel suddenly pierced through the coffin and barely stopped an inch from her face. A bit of soil landed on her beautiful face, and that slowly turned her pale complexion to a redder tint.

"This bastard…" she ground her teeth as the shovel was pulled back. "Are you out of your mind?! Did you dig me up just to kill me?"

"Well, not really." Abel used the shovel to pull up the lid of the coffin, grinning smugly the moment he came face to face with his sister. "I'm just checking whether you're really awake or talking in your sleep."

"I will kill you." Her voice dropped as her expression died.

Abel let out a wave of laughter, squatting down with his arm on his leg. "It's nice to see you again, Vera. But I didn't dig you up to chat with you."

"I don't care about your reason, Abel. The only time I will get out of this coffin is when your wife managed to control her powers."

"About that, my darling empress had to relearn witchcraft because apparently, you were slowly killing her."

Marsella snickered. "Said, who? That necromancer named Isaiah?"

"Oh, Abel. You don't understand, do you?" she continued, along with her ridiculing waves of laughter. "Ram isn't just a simple witch. She is Maleficent. She doesn't need to learn the basics. She just needs to learn how to control herself!"

"Indeed, I do not understand." Abel's smile stretched until his eyes were squinting. "That is why I came here, because you do not understand it as well."

Abel suddenly grabbed her neck, pinning it down, which made her wince in pain.

"As I've said, I didn't come here to chat with you. I came here to talk to my sister," dawdled Abel, tightening his grip around her neck to the point he could snap it if he add a little bit of strength.

"Ah — cough — fuck —" Marsella coughed in between, unable to move a muscle as her entire body was being restrained by Isaiah, Abel, and Sunny's active spell. She clenched her teeth, glaring daggers at him. "She doesn't want to talk to you. When she heard you harrowing the soil, she hid."

"Well, she better come out now before I make her watch how I will sunder the filthy existence of that man she was so obsessed with and carve his flesh." Abel's eyes widened, his eyes glowing in bright red as his fangs grew longer. "Cez Empire… that's the place, isn't it?"

Marsella's pupils slowly went wide before they constricted. In a snap of the finger, the look in her eyes changed as her expression turned vicious.

"You do that to my Eddy and I will make sure you will lament my name, brother." She smirked, stressing each syllable of her remark. Marsella's face didn't change, but the air around her, the look in her eyes, and her tone all screamed madness, lack of rationality and fear, and confidence. A person who could make anyone's skin crawl.

"Good to see you, Marsella. It's been a while." Abel smiled in satisfaction, getting what he wanted. "I will cut to the chase. What do you know?"

"I know nothing, for I had been busy chasing out this witch out of my beautiful body."

"Don't be so confident, Marsella. That witch told me everything that was happening. Do you think if you died here, in my territory, you will return to where your story started?" Abel's grip tightened, but her expression didn't change. He smirked, letting out weak and dark chuckles. "No. It will end, my dearest sister."

This time, Marsella's expression turned firm. "You want to know about Maleficent?" she asked, and then smirked.

"Ahh… you already know what will happen if she embraces Maleficent completely, huh?" she let out a ridiculing scoff, keeping her eyes locked with his. "Is this about the mainland? Oh, brother. I left after you. How would I know?"

"I see… so this is what you want." Abel's eyelids drooped as the veins on the back of his hand protruded. "Goodbye, sister."

Marsella kept her stony expression until she caught him raising his other hand. His fingernails slowly grew longer and sharper, aiming directly into her chest. When he thrust it forward, she panicked.

"The Bathory!" Marsella held her breath as his fingertips pierced her chest, but only skin deep.

Abel quirked his brows as he remembered a very familiar clan name back on the mainland.

"During my vulnerability, they gave me an offer to extend my life," explained Marsella as a thin layer of frost covered her eyes. "That's how I got this witch leeching on me to sustain me until I recovered enough."

"You… were vulnerable?"

Marsella smirked. "I've done so many exciting things, brother. Actually, you should thank me for stealing a bit of Maleficent. If not, she would've died, consumed that night in the coven."

"And what did you give them in return?"

"Time. A blessing, or what others call a second chance, but a curse for some." Her eyes glinted with pride. "It would've been my greatest masterpiece of all time, if not for you, who is just everywhere and isn't affected by it."

"So, it was done on purpose…"

"Everything has its purpose, Abel." Marsella smirk. "Even Maximus' visit has its purpose. I guess you already know what he wants."

The two of them stared at each other in silence. It did not surprise Abel Marsella knew about Maximus because it seemed this was already planned years before.

Domination.

"Oh, Marsella…" Abel shook his head mildly as he let out shallow waves of laughter. "... Mathilda will gnaw the life out of you."