Enthralled By You

57| Night Festival

"Is this all you got?" Dangerously calm, Gormeli hisses like a deadly reptile. In a dimly-lit tunnel, his pallid complexion looks more lurid than a nightmare.

A bulky man with an all black garb could barely look straight at Gormeli. As he keeps glancing back, he tensely seeks back up from fellow henchmen standing next to him but to no avail. Each of them has different mobs and tasks they're all ill at ease at every second passes by. They have their heads bowed down, dreading every time they have to gather in their hideout under the quarry. "W-we had searched far—

"Yet all you got are damn useless?" Throwing a glare over a heap of lifeless bodies in a sludgy ground, Gormeli groaned with disdain. "Their combined essence couldn't even fill a vial—and yet you are here, looking proud and shameless at a mere yield you thought was good enough?"

"W–we had searched everywhere but nowadays it's difficult to find gifteds in. . . in a short period of time." Scouring far and wide, the man thought they had almost caught every gifted throughout all lands. Countless dead bodies of young and old—extremely sapped and scathed are all crammed in a deep pit beneath the quarry. It's such a pressure thinking where in hell they haven't searched and hunted to attain a sustainable amount of essence that Gormeli has been nagging about. "And besides, all of the tanks are full—

Within seconds, Gormeli rushes toward his henchman like a swift arrow. Cold and unbothered, he easily snapped his neck and rendered him weak and defenseless. "So what if it's full? Did you think it's enough?" Seeing him gradually losing his life with his terrified eyes wide open, it thrills Gormeli at a pleasurable amount of essence he will obtain. As a fig of black vapor slowly passes off from his henchman's gaping mouth, inadequate as it seems yet it gives Gormeli a fleeting sense of ecstasy.

Rolling his head back, he savored every ounce of essence as he expects a zest of strength—yet there wasn't. He badly craves an essence that tastes divine. Embroiled with frustration, he slowly rolled his eyes sideways with an insatiable thirst. Seeing his other henchmen cowering in a corner, they're pathetically aware of one wrong move and one wrong word—they're like a set of dishes laid for his next meal. "Next. . ." Kicking a lifeless body out of his way, his hoary cloak swirled as he casually sauntered back on his large chair. "I don't want another disappointment."

"M—my lord. . ." In his wobbly legs, another henchman steps out without any choice knowing it's his turn to give an update either bad or good. "My men. . . It's not confirmed yet but we believed we found those who got involved with your daughter's demise."

Gormeli's face hardened. "Then why didn't you bring them to me? Don't tell me you failed?"

Scrambling on his knees, the second henchman didn't know how to bail himself out. "I had s-sent my men when they boarded in a ship. . ."

"And?"

"W-we lost—

"Damn it!" With his nose flaring up, Gormeli charges like an angry bull ready to gore anything blocking his way. He rushes toward his next meal with another sense of thrill.

"H—hear me out, milord!" Admitting his wrong move, the henchman tried hard to make a plea. He still lot of things to say.

But Gormeli didn't want anything of it as he squeezes his next meal's neck. "You just lost your chance."

Got his neck tightly throttled, his eyes bulged out. "H—Heron. . ." As blackness halfway hazes his line of vision, he can only wish Gormeli hears him out.

Narrowing his jaundiced eyes, Gormeli's eagle-like clutch loosened. "Heron? What about him?"

Gasping for air, he's still hanging a feet above the ground with his neck still in his lord's tight grip. By getting a chance, he should know how to deal his last card. "H—he lied to you, milord."