Rocot: Reborn

"Worried? Ha," Rocot sneered and took a deep puff of his cigarette. The scarlet smoke lingered around his lips, blurring his expression at the moment. "I don't need that cheap stuff anymore."

He flicked the ash off his cigarette, without looking back, but just staring at the garden in the distance shrouded in the night, his tone full of self-mockery, "After all, I have lost much more than you."

Arya walked over to him, the moonlight pouring down like water, outlining her exquisite curves. She did not refute Rocot's words, but just said lightly: "I'm sorry about Vivian."

"Regret?" Rocot turned around suddenly, grabbed Arya's chin, and said in a cold tone, "Why do you think I need your pity?"

Arya did not struggle, but looked at Rocot calmly, with no trace of fear in her eyes as bright as stars. "I am not pitying you, I am just reminding you that Isabella is not a good person. Seeking the skin of a tiger will only bring you closer to the abyss."

Rocot's fingers tightened slightly, and Arya could feel the strength coming from his fingertips, but she still did not retreat. She just looked straight into his eyes and said word by word: "I can understand that you want revenge, but don't lose yourself, Rocot."

Roccod's eyes flickered, and then he loosened his hand. He turned around, with his back to Arya, and said in a low and hoarse voice, "I don't need you to interfere in my affairs."

"You still care about her, right?" Arya's voice was soft, but it was like a heavy hammer, hitting Rocot's heart hard.

He turned around suddenly, grabbed Arya's arm, pressed her against the cold wall, and said with suppressed anger, "Shut up! What do you know? You know nothing at all!"

Arya did not resist, but let Rocot grab her arm. She looked at Rocot steadily, with a complicated light flashing in her eyes, "Of course I understand, because..."

Her voice stopped abruptly, and Rocot's pupils suddenly contracted. He grabbed Arya's neck and said in a tone as cold as hell, "What do you know?"

Arya breathed hard, but she did not struggle. She just looked at Rocot with an almost pitying look and slowly uttered a name, "Elizabeth..."

Rocot's hands trembled violently. He looked at Arya in disbelief, his voice trembling, "How...how do you know this name?"

Elizabeth, that was the deepest secret in his heart, the most beloved mother in his life, and also the biggest guilt in his life.

Arya smiled with difficulty, a trace of bright red blood flowing from the corner of her mouth, but she didn't care. She just used up her last bit of strength and slowly said: "Because... I am..."

"Because... I am..." Arya uttered these words with great effort, as if she had used up all her strength. Her eyes, which were as bright as stars, were now covered with a layer of gray mist, like a star that was about to go out, flickering with a faint light.

Rocot froze in place as if struck by lightning. He stared at Arya, his eyes full of disbelief and horror. His hands were still tightly around Arya's neck, but the strength had unknowingly weakened.

"Who... who are you?" Roccod's voice trembled, as if he was trying hard to suppress some terrible emotion. He couldn't believe, and didn't want to believe, that the woman in front of him, whom he regarded as a tool for revenge, could actually be...

Arya smiled with difficulty, the blood at the corner of her mouth looking particularly shocking on her pale face. "Who am I? Haha... You should know this question better than anyone else, my son."

"Son?" Rocot said, as if he had heard a big joke. He pushed Arya away and took a few steps back as if he had touched something terrible. "What nonsense are you talking about? Do you think I will believe this nonsense?"

Arya leaned against the wall helplessly, allowing Rocot to treat her roughly, with a bitter smile on her pale face. "I know this is hard for you to accept, but... this is the truth."

Rocot's breathing became rapid, and he stared at Arya, as if he wanted to see through her. "Impossible! This is absolutely impossible! My mother, she has long since..."

"Dead, right?" Arya took over Rocot's words, her tone terrifyingly calm. "You saw her die in front of you with your own eyes, at the hands of those damned traitors. So, you buried all your hatred in your heart and vowed to kill them all and avenge your mother."

Rocot's face turned even paler. He could not refute Arya's words because what he said was true. He had witnessed his mother's tragic death that year. The bloody scene was deeply imprinted in his mind and became a nightmare that could never be erased from his heart.

"You...how do you know all this?" Rocot's voice became hoarse and low. He couldn't believe that the secret he had hidden for so many years could be easily revealed by a woman.

Arya smiled bitterly and shook her head. She did not answer Rocot's question, but just said to herself: "I originally thought that I could escape the arrangement of fate, avoid those terrible enemies, and give you a normal childhood. But... I was wrong, I was too naive..."

"What are you talking about?" Roccod frowned. He felt as if he had fallen into a huge fog. Everything in front of him became so unreal.

Arya took a deep breath, as if she had made some important decision. She raised her head, looked directly into Roccod's eyes, and said word by word: "Roccod, listen carefully, those people... they are not dead, they are still alive, and... they are right beside you!"

Roccod's pupils suddenly contracted. He grabbed Arya's shoulders and asked hurriedly, "What...what did you say? They are still alive? How...how is this possible?"

Arya smiled with difficulty, but her eyes were full of sadness and despair. "Nothing is impossible, my child, because... I was just... "

At this moment, a burst of hurried footsteps came from a distance, accompanied by a sharp voice: "Lord Rocot, where are you?"

Rocot turned his head sharply and saw Isabella and several fully armed soldiers walking towards him quickly.

"Damn it!" Rocot cursed. He pulled Arya behind him and warned her in a low voice, "Don't say anything. Leave everything to me."

Arya leaned weakly in Rocot's arms. She could feel the tenseness and vigilance of Rocot's body, but she could do nothing but watch Isabella and her men approach step by step.

"Lockold, what are you doing here?" Isabella walked up to Lockold, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and Arya, a meaningful smile on her lips, "Why, you can't bear to leave your little lover?"

Rocot glanced at Isabella coldly, his tone full of warning. "Isabella, my patience is limited. Don't challenge my bottom line."

Isabella seemed to have heard something funny. She covered her mouth and giggled. "Oh, it's rare that our Lord of Darkness can get angry sometimes? What, did I hit the nail on the head?"

"You..." Roccod was about to explode, but Arya grabbed his clothes.

"Rocket, don't be impulsive." Arya's voice was soft, but it was like a bolt of lightning, instantly striking Rocket's heart.

Rocot looked down at Arya, and saw a strange smile on her pale face. Her originally clear eyes had turned dark at this moment, like two bottomless black holes, which made people shudder.

"Isabella, aren't you curious about why I know your secret?" Arya's voice was icy cold, as if it came from the Nine Nether Hell, making people shudder.

The smile on Isabella's face froze suddenly. She stared at Arya, with a barely perceptible panic and fear in her eyes.

"You... who are you?" Isabella's voice trembled, as if she had seen something terrible.

Arya slowly raised her head, a strange smile appeared on the corner of her mouth, and she said in a gloomy and terrifying tone: "Who am I? Haha... I am the one who is here to take your life!"

Before she finished her words, Arya suddenly reached out, grabbed Isabella's neck and lifted her up high.

"No! This is impossible!" Isabella struggled in horror. She could feel a powerful force strangling her throat, making it impossible for her to breathe.

"Nothing is impossible!" Arya's voice was cold and ruthless, and her eyes flashed with the flames of hatred. "Isabella, you owe me and my mother, I want you to pay it back a hundredfold!"

Rocot watched in shock what was happening before his eyes. He couldn't believe that the weak and helpless Arya could burst out with such terrifying power.

"You... who are you?" Rocot's voice trembled. He felt like he had fallen into a huge conspiracy, and he knew nothing about it.

Arya slowly turned her head and stared at Rocot with cold eyes, a strange smile on her lips.

"What am I?" Arya's voice was hoarse and low, as if it came from the depths of hell. "Hehe... I am your closest person and your biggest enemy..."