Chapter 90 : Chapter 90
Chapter 90. The Time of Judgment
Herman’s wife, Lady Eileen, sat on a velvet sofa, slowly trimming her well-maintained nails with a small gemstone-inlaid knife.
She glanced at the stain on the floor and frowned.
“This ‘Moonlight White’ carpet was specially ordered from the royal capital. Do you know how expensive it is?”
She spoke coldly to the trembling maid curled up on the ground.
“Take her away. Fifty lashes.”
“Let her learn properly what happens when you dirty your master’s belongings.”
Two burly guards immediately stepped forward. They dragged the trembling maid away like a dead dog toward the basement.
From the corridor came the faint sound of the girl’s suppressed crying and begging, but it quickly disappeared.
The other servants in the manor all kept their heads lowered, their expressions numb, as if they had seen and heard nothing.
They had long grown accustomed to such things.
Meanwhile, in the most luxurious room on the second floor, Herman’s only son Jefferson was holding a newly brought blonde girl in his arms.
He had not heard the commotion downstairs at all.
Or rather, he simply did not care.
He picked up a silver tray from the table, pinched a small amount of white powder with his little finger, and skillfully poured it into a cup of clear water.
The powder quickly dissolved.
He handed the cup to the girl beside him with a seductive smile.
“Try this, darling. It will take you to heaven.”
The girl hesitated for a moment but still took the cup and drank it in one gulp.
Soon her gaze became unfocused, and an unnatural flush spread across her face.
Jefferson smiled in satisfaction and drank a cup himself.
Outside the window, the raging snowstorm seemed to belong to a completely different world from the decadent sounds inside the room.
Dinner time arrived.
A long table was filled with sumptuous dishes, yet the family of three each harbored their own thoughts.
Herman cut into the roasted meat on his plate and said resentfully, “Sylvia’s power in the Northern Territory is becoming more stable. If we do not find a solution soon, we will all be finished!”
Lady Eileen dabbed elegantly at the corner of her mouth, looking unconcerned.
“My dear, do not worry. I have already written to my brother. He still has influence in the royal capital’s council. As long as we seize the opportunity, we will certainly drive her away.”
“Politics? Too boring.” Jefferson yawned, completely uninterested in his parents’ conversation. “Father, I want to hold a banquet next week. Can you invite that bard Iowen from the west of the city? I heard he has become quite popular recently, though now that I think about it, it has been a while since I heard any news about him.”
Herman looked at this disappointing son and felt anger surge up. Just as he was about to lash out, that feeling of being watched returned once again.
He suddenly turned his head and looked toward the entrance of the dining hall.
There was no one there.
“Steward!” he shouted angrily, venting his frustration. “Are you a corpse? Standing there like a wooden post and making my eyes sore! Get out!”
The elderly steward trembled and quickly bowed before retreating.
The dinner ended unhappily under a heavy atmosphere.
Late at night.
Herman returned to his bedroom.
He repeatedly checked the doors and windows, making sure every lock was firmly secured before finally letting out a breath of relief.
It must be an illusion.
That was what he told himself tiredly.
He extinguished the magitech lamp beside the bed, and the room sank into darkness.
Only the howling wind and snow outside reminded him of the harsh cold of the night.
He lay down on the soft bed and soon fell into a deep sleep.
Outside the manor, within the shadow of the clock tower.
A figure clad in full black armor stood silently, like an ancient statue that had never moved for centuries.
Reynard withdrew his gaze.
He had seen enough.
There was nothing more he needed to verify.
With a single leap, he silently left the clock tower and completely merged into the raging blizzard.
Inside Herman’s bedroom.
Darkness and silence ruled everything.
In his sleep, Herman seemed to feel a chill.
He turned over and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.
At that moment, a faint spark of electricity flashed briefly in the darkness, as subtle as the flutter of a mosquito’s wings.
Pfft.
The soft sound of a weapon piercing flesh was perfectly swallowed by the roaring wind and snow.
Herman’s body suddenly stiffened as unbearable pain exploded from his chest. He instantly woke up and looked down in terror.
In the darkness, a cold spear had pierced straight through his chest, pinning him firmly to the wooden bed behind him. The faint electric arcs wrapped around the spear tip were mercilessly destroying his life.
“Uh… ah…” Extreme terror seized his throat. He tried to scream but could only produce hoarse gasps like a dying beast.
At the final moment before his consciousness faded, he gathered every last ounce of strength and let out a sharp, piercing scream that tore through the night sky.
“Ah——!”
The scream ended abruptly. The silence lasted only a brief instant before the entire manor exploded into chaos like oil thrown into a fire.
“The master’s room!”
“Damn it, there is an assassin! Grab your weapons!”
Outside the corridor, the guards’ violent and panicked shouts mixed with the pounding sound of heavy footsteps rushing forward.
BANG!
With a loud crash, the bedroom door was kicked open violently.
Buck “Blood Axe,” the former second-in-command of the Blackwind Mountain Bandit Group, rushed in first. His face was full of savage flesh, and his eyes burned with ferocity.
At a glance, he saw Herman nailed to the bed and the figure standing beside it holding a spear.
It was a suit of entirely black heavy armor. The fully enclosed helmet hid everything within darkness.
That silent figure radiated overwhelming pressure, like a demon god walking out of hell.
“You are fucking dead!”
Buck’s eyes instantly turned red as the overwhelming killing intent of a seasoned bandit erupted. Roaring, he raised the massive axe in his hands, as large as a door panel. The muscles on his arms bulged as he brought the axe crashing down toward Reynard’s head. The blade tore through the air with a shrill howl, as if it intended to split even the air apart.
Yet Reynard did not even spare him a glance.
Facing this ferocious blow that could split stone, he calmly pulled the spear out of Herman’s body. The motion was unbelievably fast and contained no unnecessary flourish.
A moment before the axe fell, the spear shot forward like a black lightning bolt surging upstream.
Pfft!
The spearhead pierced cleanly through Buck’s throat.
Buck’s roar froze in his throat. The savage expression on his face instantly stiffened, and his eyes filled with disbelief and absurdity.
Reynard flicked his wrist, and a tremendous force surged through the shaft of the spear.
The spear lifted.
Buck’s massive body, nearly three hundred pounds, was directly lifted off the ground and hurled backward like a broken sack.
He slammed heavily into several guards who had just rushed to the doorway with fierce expressions.
“What?!”
“Buck he—”
The guards at the doorway were terrified by the unimaginable scene. For a moment they collapsed into complete chaos.
They stared at the black-armored knight who stepped over Buck’s corpse while holding the blood-dripping spear, slowly walking out of the bedroom. Their faces were filled with horror.
Reynard looked at the guards crowding the corridor.
These butchers, bandits, and murderers whose crimes were recorded in the dossiers.
His eyes showed no emotion.
The judgment had only just begun.