All Hail the Warden

006

"You?" Sebastian threw his head back and laughed, a sharp, mocking sound that echoed across the wedding hall. "You really think you're still that pampered young master, Nick? That the world still bows at your feet?"

His laughter died into something uglier. Something hungry. He stepped forward on the raised platform, adjusting his cufflinks with theatrical calm. "Actually, you showing up here saves me some trouble. I've been wanting to deal with you for a long time. Today, right in front of your eyes, I'm going to make your little wife crawl on her hands and knees for me. Like a good dog."

He let the silence hang, savoring it.

"Let's find out who the real lapdog is."

His gaze snapped toward Celia, turning cold and venomous. "Celia. Why are you still standing there? The ceremony is about to begin." His voice dropped. "Unless you want your entire family to follow you into the grave."

Celia flinched, her whole body going rigid. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, Nick stepped in front of her.

"Stay here," he said quietly. "Wait for me. I'll handle this."

"Handle it?" One of the groomsmen sneered, moving to block Nick's path. Another flanked him from the opposite side. Both wore matching charcoal suits, their chins tilted up with the arrogance of men who had never been told no. "You think you can start something in front of Boss Sebastian?"

Nick's eyes flicked between them. "And who are you?"

"Felix Preston. Preston family." The one on the left cracked his knuckles.

"And I'm Gavin Vaughn," the other added, puffing his chest. "Vaughn family. You want to touch Boss Sebastian, you go through us first."

Nick stared at them for exactly one second. "Never heard of you. Move, or die."

The smugness on their faces curdled into fury. "You piece of..."

"Felix, Gavin." Sebastian's voice floated down from the platform, dripping with amusement. "Go easy on him. Don't kill him yet. I'm not done playing."

Two wet thuds.

The words were still hanging in the air when both men crumpled. Blood erupted from their chests in twin arcs, painting the white marble floor in violent red. Neither Felix nor Gavin managed another syllable. They hit the ground already dead.

"Noisy," Nick muttered, sparing them not a glance.

The collective gasp that swept through the hall was almost physical. Felix Preston and Gavin Vaughn weren't top-tier names in Diverton, but riding Sebastian's coattails had made them wealthy, connected, dangerous enough that no one crossed them lightly. And Nick had just swatted them like insects.

Sebastian's smirk vanished. Shock rippled across his face before he mastered it, forcing his expression into something hard. "Nick, I don't know how you crawled back from whatever hole you were hiding in, but clearly your head is still broken. Killing people in broad daylight?" He jabbed a finger toward him. "I'll have you thrown back in that cell where you belong."

"Who killed my son!" A man's voice, raw and cracking, cut through the murmurs.

"My boy, my poor boy..." A woman stumbled after him, her face white as paper.

Duncan Preston and Vivian Vaughn pushed through the crowd. When they saw the bodies on the floor, Duncan's legs nearly buckled.

"Him." Sebastian pointed at Nick without hesitation. "This lunatic. His mind is still gone. He's slaughtering people for no reason."

Duncan's grief twisted into rage. "The Crane boy? The one whose whole family was wiped out?" He bared his teeth. "A madman walking free. I'll make you pay. Blood for blood!"

At their command, dozens of professional bodyguards surged forward.

Five years changed everything. The Crane family had once stood at the summit of Diverton, untouchable, feared. Then they were erased in a single night. Their shadow had lingered for a time, but time was merciless. No one feared the Crane name anymore. Most had already forgotten it.

"If you're so eager to die," Nick said, his voice flat and cold, "I'll oblige."

He moved.

One moment he was standing still. The next he was among them, moving like a phantom, his form barely visible between strikes. The bodyguards didn't even get close. Each one collapsed with a sickening crack, screaming, then silent.

"How is he this strong?" Sebastian's composure finally cracked. He grabbed the railing of the platform, knuckles white. "What are you all waiting for? Get in there! Help them!"

The last of the Preston and Vaughn guards hit the floor. Before the echo faded, the Whitaker Guards arrived, pouring in from every entrance.

"You dare cause chaos before the Whitaker family?" Their captain, Blood Hawk, stepped forward. A former special forces operative. A Silver-rank Martial Warrior. His fist drove toward Nick's face like a battering ram.

Whispers erupted from the crowd. "That's Blood Hawk. Special forces. Silver-rank. The rest are at least Bronze-rank."

"Nick is finished..."

The fist never landed.

Nick's hand shot up and locked around Blood Hawk's wrist like a vise.

"Capture me?" Nick's voice was quiet. Deadly. "You're not worthy."

Blood Hawk's eyes went wide. He felt the pressure radiating from Nick's grip, felt the terrifying depth of it, and his bravado shattered. "You... you're a Gold-rank Martial Warrior... no..."

Blood sprayed.

The captain of the Whitaker Guards died where he stood.

"Impossible!" Sebastian's eyes bulged. "He can't be... there's no way... All of you, together! NOW!"

The remaining guards charged as one, teeth bared, like a pack of wolves.

Nick didn't even blink. He walked through them the way a man walks through rain, unhurried, unstoppable. Each step left another body behind. Each motion ended a life.

One step. One kill.

Long ago, legend spoke of Wyatt Hollister, who killed a man every ten paces and never looked back. Today, Nick Crane killed a man with every single step forward.

The festive red banners and golden decorations of the wedding hall were now drenched in crimson. The air reeked of iron. What had been a celebration had become a slaughterhouse, blood pooling in rivers between the overturned chairs.

The last Whitaker Guard fell. Nick stood before Sebastian, close enough to touch. "Sebastian. I told you. Today, you don't walk away."

"You... you..." Sebastian's face was chalk-white, his body trembling so badly he could barely stand. Before he could finish a single sentence, Nick's hand closed around his throat and lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing.

"Let me go!" Sebastian choked, clawing uselessly at Nick's fingers. "Think about what you're doing! The Whitaker family isn't what it used to be. We have power now. Real power. You kill me, and they'll... just... apologize. I'll pretend none of this happened..."

Nick smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "Sebastian. A lapdog is a lapdog. I said I'd kill you. So I will."

"You wouldn't... you can't... my family will... please... no... AAAGH..."

Sebastian's scream tore through the hall, shrill and desperate, the sound of a man who finally understood that death was not negotiable.

Crack.

The bones in his neck shattered under Nick's fingers. Sebastian Whitaker went limp, then still.

"Garbage."

Nick released the body. It crumpled to the ground with a dull thud.

That single word detonated through the silence like a bomb. Every person in the hall felt the hair rise on the back of their necks, felt the ice crawl down their spines. Nick had killed the Preston heir. The Vaughn heir. And now Sebastian Whitaker himself, scion of one of Diverton's most powerful families. Crushed like an afterthought.

Nick ignored the stares, the whispers, the terror. He turned and walked back toward Celia. The crowd parted before him in silence, no one daring to breathe too loudly.

He stopped in front of her, and the coldness melted from his face. A small, gentle smile replaced it. Warm. Almost tender.

"It's done, Celia. Let's go."

The contrast was so stark that more than a few onlookers doubted their own eyes. The man who had just painted the hall in blood, who had moved through trained killers without a flicker of emotion, was now looking at this woman as though she were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Was it really the same person? Or had the rumors been right all along, that his mind was fractured, split into something no one could predict?