A red streak had painted the side of the man's temple.

The tips of golden strands were dyed red as they caressed the stained skin. Moulin's eyes widened and he stepped closer to the lord while under the curious stares of the other two people in the tent. His slender fingers reached out. Delicate fingernails were painted red...

"You are hurt" Moulin softly whispered to Hadrian.

"Are you worried?" The hint of amusement of Hadrian's voice seemed to prick at Moulin's patience.

Was it something to be amused about?! The youth internally rolled his eyes as he released a sigh. "I don't like you being hurt..." He openly expressed.

"As do I to you..." Hadrian grabbed Moulin's raised hand, keeping it in his grasp. Without turning to the other occupants of the area, he spoke in a low voice as he brought Moulin's palm to his cheek. "This fortress is a trap. It seems the hostages were a lure to pull us within the boundaries of the island's barrier."

Rowan's eyes widened in alarm, "Then-"

"We must leave at once!" Relena interrupted with an affrighted yell. "Our men, the hostages, the princess! I will immediately alert the others-...!"

Suddenly, the tremors returned. The frozen table shattered under the strong vibration of the ground. The tent almost seemed to collapse. The hanging lamps on the tent poles trembled and fell, shattering on the damp ground. When the tremors halted, every person in the room fell into stifling silence.

Relena and Rowan glanced at each other before they excuse themselves. Both leaders hurried to exit the tent, alarm shaped their expressions as they began to shout orders. Moulin and Hadrian were left inside the silence of the tent. The commotion outside was restlessly clear.

'How is he so... calm?' Moulin warily thought as a crease appeared between his forehead.

Hadrian finally lifted his gaze and stare at Moulin with profound eyes. Finding himself lost in those deep pools of gold, Moulin kept his silence as he waited.

"You weren't able to use your abilities in the halls... " Said Hadrian. His tone was slightly intimidating. Coldness and solemnity seemed to irradiate from him. "The creature that captured you... They were after you..."

"..."

In the deepness of the lord's tone and the restraint in his golden eyes, Moulin felt confused for a short while. He wondered why had these words escaped from this man before him. But it was only for a short while. At the next second, something clicked in his mind. His silver eyes slightly lowered to his hand resting on Hadrian's cheek. Pupils quivered slightly.

"Do you mean..." He began softly as if hesitating.

He felt Hadrian slightly pressed Moulin's palm on his cheek deeper. "... You... They were after you... My beloved. They want to take you away from me..." A vague turmoil echoed in the depth of his words. Amid the coldness in his eyes, there was a drop of madness. "... They are going to steal you away from me."

Moulin furrowed his brows. There was something strange in Hadrian's voice. Moulin felt that there was something wrong with the man in front of him. His eyes seemed to want to suck Moulin in. Moulin raised his other hand to rest on Hadrian's other cheek. With a voice as soft as cotton, he spoke, "No one will take me away..." His eyebrows curved upwards. "They cannot..."

Hadrian silently looked at him in response. Lowering his gaze, He removed Moulin's hand from his face. He held the youth's wrist in his grasp. Suddenly, buttons and laces flew as the man ripped the cuffs of the sleeves off Moulin's arm. Moulin flinched from Hadrian's abrupt actions. He watched as Hadrian pushed the loose sleeve upwards to his shoulder.

The once pale unblemished skin was marred with black-red marks. As if it was dabbed with blood. Like black bruises. It looked horrid and painful...

Moulin's eyes constricted. He had not realized the effects of the red cloud that moved with his captor's bidding. Because he no longer felt any pain, he thought nothing had resulted from the cloud's doing.

"Did the healers not sense this?" Hadrian spoke.

"No..." Moulin slowly shook his head. "They... did not..."

Hadrian's rough fingers caressed the marks staining his beloved's arm. A surge of anger rose in his throat. He should've killed that man on the spot. He should've ripped him to shreds and let maggots feast on his corpse.

Moulin could feel the anger emanating from the man in front of him. What did these marks mean? He was certain they didn't pose a threat. He didn't feel any pain at all. However, he could not be sure if it truly was harmless...

Moulin sighed. Complicated emotions ran chaotically. He lifted his gaze, witnessing the rage in the man's eyes.

...

His brows furrowed in confusion.

Why had the rain stopped? He was sure Hadrian's outrage would make the rain heavier. But there was silence in the sky... What Moulin could hear was onky the unrest from outside the tent.

Hadrian seemed to realize it as well as he glanced behind him when the tent flaps were forcibly yanked open. Rowan was huffing as his frantic eyes searched the Lord's. He looked panicked.

"My Lord... The barrier has... sealed us inside. Communications failed to reach our people. Teleportation equipment cannot activate. We... have no way of leaving the island..."

Hadrian narrowed his gaze. "What?

...

A loud commotion erupted from outside and the three of them vacated the tent. The restlessness that greeted Moulin influenced his emotions. His heart thundered as he noticed that most of the soldiers were looking up at the sky. He followed their gazes and froze.

Tendrils, the color of blood, weaved and interlock, creating a domed shield, reaching hundreds of feet above the ground. It began from beneath the water, rising upward at high speed. Its translucent crimson wall filtered the light within the barrier. Bathing everyone and everything on the island in red.

It was a dreadful scene. When it finely enveloped the whole lake, and the skies had turned crimson, fear filled everyone's chest.

It was the same barrier that had enclosed the midnight gardens when the Veialeans attacked.

They were trapped.

It was as if his movements were done subconsciously. Moulin summoned his sacred weapon. The fading hope still lingered in his heart so he had to try. The icy surface of the bow laid heavily in his grasp. Moulin positioned himself, bow aiming at the sky. He drew the string and an arrow of ice materialized on the arrow rest instantly. It glowed with a glaring light as it was aimed above.

Exhaling a breath, he fired.

A frosty mist was expelled as the arrow was launched in the air. It spreads out, instantly catching the people's attention. It silenced them. Their eyes followed the swift arrow with anticipation.

'Please, let it pierce through...' Moulin silently appealed. His heart pounded in his chest.

The arrow ejected a burst of icy mist as it accelerated sharply, enlarging tremendously. It cut through the air like a spear.

Moulin's felt a bit of hope as he watched the arrow. Everyone had felt the same as well.

However...

Moulin's hopes were ruthlessly crushed when a massive tendril shot out from the wall of the barrier and swallowed the arrow. After its feast of mana, it drew back to the wall, stronger than before.

Just like that, it vanished.

Moulin's eyes widened. 'H-How...'

Turmoil erupted within the courtyard.

An unusual barrier that feeds on mana. There was never such thing!

Moulin stood there at the center of the commotion. Gripping the bow in his hand, he breathes as he tried to calm himself. He should not panic. They were only trapped. The worst had not even revealed itself yet. Yes. They should stay cautious and clear-headed.

As his bow disappeared, a hand suddenly grasped Moulin's shoulder. The youth flinched but then he relaxed. He knew who this touch belonged to...

"Moulin..." Hadrian spoke.

Moulin glanced behind his shoulder. "I'm fine..."

Hadrian silently looked at him. Briefly, he shot a glance a Rowan and Relena who immediately knew what Lord Hercullio meant. They separated and ran off to shout out commands. Not long after, the crowd was silenced and their expressions turned serious. If they want to survive, panicking would do them nothing.

Moulin felt the hand on his shoulder squeeze. He turned his head and met the profound gaze of the man.

...

"You... want to teleport me elsewhere." Moulin declared. The man's intention was evident in those golden irises.

"Yes..." Hadrian didn't deny it. "I will take you somewhere safe here in the island..."

Silently, Moulin only furrowed his eyebrows in response. His gaze shifted to the sentinels and the elven warriors who forced themselves to stay calm. Escorting the hostages inside the fortress, heading towards a chamber where they would be safe. Moulin narrowed his eyes as he returned his gaze to Hadrian.

"I have wondered about your silence..." Moulin started. "At first I thought you were just trying to stay calm. However... your silence wasn't out of calmness... I know you have a plan in mind..."

"..." There was a flash of worry. Lord Hadrian scrutinized Moulin's inquisitive expression. Golden eyes dimmed. "I will not have you in harm's way again"

"Hadrian..." Moulin spoke, aware that no one was paying attention to the both of them. "... I will not hide in those dark walls. I will fight alongside you. You can chain me to your side if you want. But I will not cower away... Just this once..."

Hadrian meant to drag Moulin away even if he persisted but when the youth mention about chaining him, he paused to consider. "..."

...

He sighed.

Honestly, even he was surprised by his own sudden change of mood. Helplessness washed away the fire in his heart. Lifting his chin, he stared down at those unyielding silver eyes.

"Fine..." Hadrian finally conceded.

Moulin's eyes brightened but his expression remained serious. 'Wise choice... I thought I had to freeze him to get his consent. Wait... Why should he even need to have his consent?'

'I'll put a leash on him later...' Hadrian turned away, gazing at the red barrier in the sky.

The sound of hasty footsteps and harsh breathing interrupted him.

"Milord! Milord!"

Shifting his attention, Hadrian turned to a sentinel huffing and heaving. Fear shaped his expression. Moulin noticed the man's trembling hands and the evident restraint used so his knees wouldn't fall on the stone before his lord.

"Speak..."

"T-The s-shores!... C-Creatures! Emerging from the s-shores!" He stuttered as he reported.