nanakawaichan
patreon
Dark Moon Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 360. Royal Wave II
🕑 Added 2025-01-02 18:10:33 +0000 UTCThird Arc (Fallen Heart) - 360. Royal Wave II
“You won’t,” Angel said firmly, his gaze steady on the crowd.
Rose felt the tension in her chest ease just a little. She nodded. For a brief moment, she let herself believe his words, drawing strength from the quiet confidence in his voice. But as her gaze swept over the sea of faces, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was fragile, like a thread stretched too thin.
Angel, however, wasn’t just watching the crowd—he was studying it. His eyes flickered subtly, his senses sharpened. The vibrant, chaotic energy of the crowd wasn’t what he was focused on. He was looking for the cracks, the ripples that didn’t belong. And then he saw it—a faint shift, almost imperceptible, but enough to make his gut tighten.
A figure near the back, their movement too deliberate. Another toward the side, slipping through the crowd with practiced ease. They were too calm, too purposeful, in contrast to the jubilant chaos around them. Angel’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained unchanged. He couldn’t afford to alarm Rose or the crowd.
Without breaking his formal posture, Angel raised his hand slightly, as if brushing an invisible speck off his blazer. The gesture was casual enough to go unnoticed by the untrained eye, but it was a clear signal to the Black Devil soldiers stationed discreetly around the square. In response, a faint puff of black smoke rose from an alleyway to the left—a confirmation that his message had been received.
“What is it?” Rose asked softly, sensing the subtle shift in his demeanor. She kept her smile in place, her words barely audible over the roar of the crowd.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Angel replied smoothly, his voice calm. “Just a precaution.”
Rose’s brows knitted together, but she trusted him enough not to press further. Instead, she focused on maintaining her composure, her hand brushing against the railing for support.
Angel, meanwhile, extended a fraction of his power, creating a nearly invisible barrier around them. It shimmered faintly, a distortion in the air that only someone actively looking for it might notice.
The barrier wasn’t just for show—it was a protective measure, one that had saved his life more than once during events like this. The balcony was always a risk, and while the assassination attempts had become fewer with his increased security measures, he knew better than to let his guard down.
Below, the Black Devil soldiers moved like shadows. Their dark uniforms blended seamlessly with the surroundings as they navigated the crowd, closing in on the suspicious figures Angel had marked. The soldier was a master of stealth, their movements almost imperceptible to the untrained eye.
“Keep smiling,” Angel murmured to Rose, his voice low but steady.
“I am smiling,” she whispered back, her tone laced with dry humor. “Though I’m starting to think this job comes with a lot more than I bargained for.”
Angel’s lips quirked into a faint smirk, though his eyes remained sharp. “Welcome to the throne.”
The crowd’s cheers continued. Angel’s gaze flickered to the side, catching another subtle signal from his soldiers—a quick hand motion from one of the rooftops, followed by the briefest flash of metal in the crowd below. His grip on the railing tightened slightly, but his expression remained unreadable.
Rose, sensing his tension, glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Angel,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “What’s going on?”
“Just stay calm,” he replied, his tone soothing but firm. “I’ve got it under control.”
She wanted to believe him, but the undercurrent of tension in his voice made her heart race. Her fingers curled around the railing, her nails digging into the polished stone as she forced herself to stay composed. She wasn’t going to let the crowd see her falter.
Meanwhile, below the balcony, the Black Devil soldiers closed in on the potential threats. The first figure—a wiry man with a dagger hidden beneath his cloak—didn’t even see them coming. A gloved hand clamped over his mouth, and within seconds, he was dragged into the shadows, the weapon confiscated before he could make a move.
