My Sister The Villainess: Alternate Volume 2

While a small group of guards walked menacingly towards the man waving his sword around, a quiet discussion was happening within the auction house.

"That man must be insane. How is there someone so crazy as to make such demands and threats here?" A man wearing a tiger mask spoke with traces of disdain clear in his voice.

"He doesn't even bother to wear a hood or anything." A second man, younger than the first, spoke up. Maybe in his late teens or early twenties. He wore a heron mask." Does he not care about his identity being discovered?"

"Perhaps it is so."

"Even if his status is great, others here may not necessarily lose out. Openly offending people here whom you don't know the power of is simply foolhardy."

In fact, that's why everyone here either wore a hood or mask. In the case of a dispute, one couldn't easily identify you and cause trouble later. 

"It doesn't appear as if he's wearing a disguise, either. I don't see any signs of makeup or dye." A feminine voice commented. She was seated, so one couldn't tell how tall she was, but her legs were long and milky. 

She wore a vibrant green cheongsam with a serpintine figure patterned in gold. Though, it was hard to see in the dimly lit room. 

She was Hannah, the first daughter of Duke Carstairs. 

"But he looks..." She started, her eyes glowng.

"Do you know him?" The man who had first spoken asked.

"...delectable." She finished.

"Women." Tiger-mask spat.

"Hm." Heron-mask took a closer look at the man causing trouble from across the room. "He does appear faintly familiar, though...where have i...?" He, too, trailed off. Then all of a sudden, it came to him. The moment he caught a flash of those luminous violet eyes piercing through the dark, he remembered. "That's the young Lord Damien!" He hissed low.

What?!

The others at his side all let out exclamations of disbelief.  "Surely you jest! The boy is barely in his fifteenth year! How can he look that old?" A third man suddenly broke in. It was the second Prince of Greycastle, Lucas Greycastle, who was currently wearing a puma mask. 

He had dirty blonde hair and a carried a sharp appearance with his deep blue military-issued uniform. He didn't wear the various medals he'd acquired throughout his career, short though it was, as he didn't wish for people to identify him that way. In truth, it would have been better to not even wear his uniform at all, but at this point he felt naked without it. 

It was understandable that he didn't trust the words of heron-mask. The person they saw now did not look anything like the youth they'd seen in portraits. The more high-ranking Nobles and other prominent individuals would often have their appearance updated yearly via portrait. 

Copies of those portraits would then be distributed among the rest of the Noble community so they'd be able to recognize each other easier. This wasn't done for all Nobles, not even all the high-ranking ones...but Damien was famous. Or infamous, really. 

While not everyone would know him by face, this group of people were the sons and daughters of Dukes and Kings. And Damien, his own reputation aside, was the son of a very prominent figure. Of course they'd have seen up-to-date portraits of him.

"No, those eyes are unmistakable! I'm definitely right!" Heron-mask was firm.

"Shit, what is this then?" Tiger-mask cursed. "A growth spurt? Exactly what's that kid been eating?"

"This isn't good." Heron-mask ignored his companion. "That crazy bastard is serious. He'll cause a bloodbath if we don't step in."

At that, a heavy silence pervaded the group. 

It was only tiger-mask, who was from a foreign nation far from the central continent, who scoffed. "Please. Isn't he just the Claybrook's problem child? Let the guards handle--"

"You don't know a damn thing!" Heron-mask snapped. He was Alec Herondale, the fourth son of Duke Herondale. He felt his chest burn. He wasn't one to raise his voice, but he had to stop this fool from speaking. 

"For once, Micah, stay silent," Lucas' voice was calm and quieter than it had been a moment ago. "Hannah, if you'd please."

"I'm on it. " The woman stood and sauntered off. 

"Where's she going?" Micah frowned. 

Lucas watched on as the guards, who'd been in the middle of a heated exchange with Damien, finally turned physical.

Up to now, they'd attempted to cow the boy into submission by veiled threats alone. But Lucas knew...

That wasn't going to work on Damien.

"To make sure that Violet Devil over there doesn't murder us all." 

Micah sneered at that, but he said nothing more. 

Lucas and Alec dismissed his reaction. He didn't know just how unreasonable Damien Claybrook was. 

...Or how powerful. 

It wasn't often seen. In fact, you'd probably never know it just looking at him because he so rarely actually showed his skills. 

But Lucas and Alec had witnessed first-hand the terror of a mad genius. This was the boy who'd held his own against three mid-tier knights at but 12 years of age. 

It was a little-known incident, and it's not as if the boy wasn't wildly outclassed in truth...but neither Lucas nor Alec, even now, would have never been so crazy as to take on three mid-tiers alone and unarmed.

The fact Damien did so, and even held his own to a remarkable extent, was horrifying to watch. It was because the longer they fought, the stronger he grew.

The boy was learning in real-time, improving with each exchange. Given his lazy nature and the fact that his natural strength was normally enough to simply overpower his opponents, who were often just spoiled Noble brats, it was probably one of the only fights he'd ever actually taken seriously.

But that knowledge only added to their feeling of anxiety right now. 

A monster like that shouldn't be poked.

They had no idea how much, if at all, he'd grown in skill since that incident. However, even if he hadn't improved at all it didn't mean anythin. Someone like him who could grow explosively through a single battle was always dangerous.

***

Damien didn't even wait for the men to unsheath their weapons. They came to him trying to intimidate him, saying, "Sir, you're going to have to hand that weapon over or be removed from the premises." While staring at him like they dared Damien to act.

Well, he obliged. A short exchange in which he described in vivid detail how he'd finger-fuck their mothers atop the prone bodies of their fathers, ensued. 

From there, it all went downhill. "Here, Vee. Take care of Rex for me." He carefully handed the kitty, who had been sleeping comfortably underneath Damien's coat, to Vera. 

Then he addressed the men again. "What are waiting for, an invitation? Fight me already."

The man in the lead snarled a profanity, having been thoroughly enraged by Damien's previous words about their mothers. and put his hand to the hilt of his sword intending to draw blood. But Damien simply placed his hand over the man's own, stopping him. Then, with his other hand, he delivered a straight jab to the guard's face. 

The man staggered back, hurting but not beaten. Damien smiled, then sent out a kick that blew the man, and those behind him, away. 

It was dark and crowded, with rows of chairs everywhere that were bolted to the floors. It wasn't ideal for a group of people in a fight. 

Damien only had to worry about himself. They had to give each other some space and make sure not to accidentally hurt their allies. Or the people attending the auction.

He was sure it was going to be an easy battle and was ready to see just how much stronger he'd gotten over the past few months. 

"Get up," He grinned wildly, putting his sword at the leading guard's neck. " I'm not done with you ye--"

"Sir. Um, sir?" 

Hm? Damien looked towards the stage as the pretty auction lady tried to get his attention. 

"Please. calm yourself," She gave a disarming smile. "It appears that someone has paid for the elf on your behalf."

The hell?

"This is an auction." He said. The implication was, 'can you really just sell something to a person without even starting the bid yet?'

This isn't a convenience store. There's no set price here. People came here to compete for these items. Now a rare, high-value elf was being sold just like that? 

The lady understood him without needing another word. "They paid fifteen times the starting bid. It's more than what we were expecting to get, even for an elf like this one." Furthermore....

The one who paid was someone the auction house couldn't offend. Obviously, though, she couldn't mention that.

Damien looked at her blankly. "So, what...she's mine now?" He jerked a chin towards the cage on stage holding the captured elf. Inside, the naked beauty was staring up at him, looking mysterious and ethereal.

"That's right, sir. So please, calm yourself and let us return to our--"

His eyes flashed. 

An instant later, something flew past the auction lady's ear. And then, a lock of hair gently flew down towards the ground. 

Behind the woman, embedded deep onto the stage's wooden floor, was Damien's sword. The whole building was now in an uproar.

No one even saw when it happened, but suddenly her words got cut off. This was simply an unconscious move on her part. She, also, had not registered what had happened. But a split second before she saw his eyes brighten, she felt a head-numbing chill. And then...this.

Damien stared at her. "I said, I don't like filthy slave traders." If he let them go, there'd be more people sold here in the future.

Maybe they were not the ones who captured this elf, sure...but they were willing to make a profit selling her. 

In his mind, that was just as bad. 

"You seem to have misunderstood me, so let me make myself clear: I'm going to burn this fucking place to the ground. Whether you're in it or not when i do so depends entirely upon your answer to my next question."

The woman gulped. 

Meanwhile,

"Fuck," Lucas muttered. "I knew he was unreasonable, but this is ridiculous."