Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I’m Stuck as Their Baby! - Chapter 115

Chapter 115: Employment Hazards
Escaping had never been particularly difficult for Darius, but today it had been humiliatingly necessary.

The shadows released him abruptly, depositing him roughly onto damp stone, pain shooting sharply through his spine as he landed heavily on his back. He groaned, cursing softly under his breath, staring irritably upward into the darkness. This day, already thoroughly miserable, was clearly intent on testing his patience to its absolute limit.

With a weary sigh, he pushed himself carefully upright, wincing at the numerous fresh bruises blossoming painfully beneath his clothing. The small stone chamber he’d materialized within was dimly lit by a single flickering torch that did little more than highlight the room’s general lack of charm. Moisture seeped down the walls, leaving dark, unpleasant stains, and the floor beneath his feet was slippery with mold. If his employers had meant to intimidate him with this gloomy atmosphere, they were succeeding remarkably.

“Charming,” he muttered bitterly, dusting his clothes disdainfully. “Clearly they spared no expense.”

A voice echoed dryly from the shadows behind him, cold and mildly amused. “If luxury was your priority, perhaps you should have succeeded at your task.”

Darius stiffened instantly, irritation mixing uneasily with a familiar sense of dread. He turned slowly, attempting to maintain his usual arrogant confidence, but his heartbeat quickened nonetheless as his employers stepped quietly forward from the darkness.

Three figures emerged slowly into the faint torchlight men and women he’d met only briefly before, yet whose mere presence never failed to send icy shivers crawling down his spine.

Lady Morganna stood at the center, a tall, severe woman with silver hair pulled sharply away from a cold, angular face. Her piercing green eyes watched him with thinly veiled contempt, lips pressed into a tight line of disapproval that suggested his very existence was profoundly irritating.

At her side stood Lord Aleric, a powerfully built man whose dark gaze held a quiet, simmering menace, his scarred features partially obscured beneath a thick, neatly trimmed beard. A large axe hung casually from his belt, the edge gleaming ominously even in the poor lighting.

And finally, the most unsettling figure Lady Calista, small and slender, deceptively delicate with short, dark hair framing a heart-shaped face, wide blue eyes innocent yet utterly devoid of warmth. She tilted her head slightly, regarding him curiously, a faint smile playing on her lips as though his failure was a particularly entertaining spectacle.

Darius swallowed tightly, resisting the urge to step backward under their collective scrutiny. “There were…complications,” he offered weakly, attempting a charming smile that failed miserably.

Lady Morganna raised an elegant eyebrow skeptically, her voice icy with mock politeness. “Complications? Perhaps you might elaborate?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting uneasily beneath their cold gazes. “Elyzara proved more…resourceful than anticipated.”

Lord Aleric snorted dryly, folding massive arms across his chest. “She is eight years old, Darius. Are you seriously telling us you were bested by a child?”

Darius flushed hotly, irritation flaring despite the dangerous company. “Not just any child,” he snapped defensively. “Her power is extraordinary unpredictable, practically limitless.”

Lady Calista laughed softly, an unsettling sound that rang sharply through the damp chamber, sending fresh chills skittering down Darius’s spine. “Yet you assured us confidently that you could handle her. Perhaps your bravado outweighed your skill.”

Darius stiffened sharply, pride bristling fiercely beneath her mocking tone. “I would have succeeded had her family not intervened so swiftly. Lady Verania herself confronted me—”

Morganna sighed dramatically, lifting one pale, slender hand to massage her temples as though fighting a sudden headache. “So, not only did you fail to control one small child, but you also alerted the Thorne family to our intentions prematurely?”

Darius winced visibly, realizing too late the depth of his mistake. “I…I had no choice,” he stammered hastily, desperation coloring his voice. “I barely escaped with my life!”

Lord Aleric stepped forward abruptly, movements deliberate and menacing, his massive form looming threateningly over Darius. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously, voice a low, rumbling growl. “Perhaps that was your mistake escaping alive when you should have fought to the death.”

Darius’s breath caught painfully, heart hammering frantically as genuine fear twisted violently within his chest. “Please—there’s still time. We can still succeed—”

Morganna raised a hand sharply, silencing him instantly. Her expression hardened fiercely, eyes glittering coldly in the dim torchlight. “Silence. Your incompetence has endangered everything we’ve carefully planned.”

Calista stepped forward smoothly, eyes wide and unsettlingly innocent, her voice soft, almost playful. “And we worked so hard to prepare everything overthrowing tyrants is no simple task, after all.”

Darius swallowed thickly, trembling uncontrollably now. Their plan was ambitious, ruthless overthrowing the Thornes entirely, eradicating the entire bloodline they despised so deeply, removing them from power forever. The Thornes, they believed, were tyrants who ruled Velmoria with merciless cruelty and excessive pride, crushing any opposition without remorse.

For Morganna and her allies, destroying the Thorne family wasn’t merely political it was a sacred mission. The Thornes were weeds choking the life from their land, and weeds had to be pulled from the roots, swiftly and permanently.

But Elyzara had been their key, a weapon meant to weaken the Thornes from within, exploiting the vulnerabilities of family bonds, bringing down their power structure from the inside.

Darius’s failure had jeopardized all of that.

Morganna regarded him coldly, eyes narrowing with chilling finality. “Failure demands consequences.”

Darius stiffened sharply, eyes widening desperately. “Wait—please, give me another chance. I’ll correct my mistakes—”

Aleric smiled faintly, eyes darkening ominously, fingers drifting slowly toward the axe at his side. “You misunderstand. This isn’t a negotiation.”

Calista stepped closer smoothly, gentle fingers brushing lightly against his arm, touch deceptively soft, soothing. “Failure weakens the entire cause. And we can’t afford weakness, can we?”

Darius jerked backward desperately, panic flaring sharply, gaze darting wildly between their merciless faces. “No—wait—please!”

But Aleric moved swiftly, impossibly fast for a man his size, gripping Darius’s arm tightly, unyielding as steel. The axe flashed brilliantly beneath the torchlight, sharp edge biting viciously, cleanly through flesh and bone.

Agony exploded instantly through Darius, a searing, blinding pain that stole his breath, a ragged scream tearing violently from his throat. He collapsed heavily onto his knees, vision swimming dangerously, darkness swirling hungrily at the edges of his consciousness.

Blood pooled swiftly beneath him, soaking into the slippery stones, thick and hot, crimson spilling freely from the brutal stump where his arm had once been. His breathing rasped harshly, body trembling violently, consciousness flickering weakly.

Lady Morganna stepped calmly forward, crouching gracefully until their eyes were level, expression utterly cold, devoid of mercy or regret. “Let this remind you,” she murmured quietly, voice gentle yet lethally soft, “of the price of incompetence.”

Darius whimpered faintly, pain overwhelming him, tears spilling uncontrollably down his cheeks, pride shattered completely. “Please,” he whispered brokenly, begging weakly. “Please—mercy.”

Morganna rose smoothly, expression utterly indifferent. “Mercy is reserved for those who succeed.”

She turned away swiftly, robes whispering softly against the damp stones. Calista followed silently, eyes wide and amused, casting a mocking glance back toward him as she slipped gracefully into the shadows. Aleric lingered briefly, regarding Darius with cold, silent contempt, then turned away without a word, disappearing silently after them.

Darius remained alone, crumpled pathetically on the cold, blood-stained floor, agony pulsing relentlessly, bitter humiliation consuming him completely.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to end. He’d been certain, so arrogantly confident he could control Elyzara, manipulate her against her own blood, help his employers finally topple the powerful Thorne dynasty.

Yet he’d failed, spectacularly and humiliatingly. And now, broken, bleeding, and utterly alone, he realized bitterly just how foolish he’d been to underestimate the Thornes.

“I suppose,” he whispered weakly, vision dimming slowly, consciousness slipping toward merciful darkness, “I might have miscalculated.”

The darkness claimed him swiftly, wrapping gently around him like a mocking embrace.

As his consciousness faded, one final thought echoed bitterly through his mind:

Employment in rebellion was clearly far more hazardous than advertised.