Chapter 163: The Conspiracy
Later, when Jethru discovered the thin, bloodied line across Ivy’s neck—just a shallow cut, but enough to mar her porcelain skin—something inside him snapped. His fury was silent but absolute. Without a word, he dragged the bandit leader away, far from the others, to the edge of the riverbank.
There, beneath the shadow of an ancient tree, Jethru raised his sword high—and with a single, precise strike, severed the man’s head from his body.
Lara followed at a distance, unseen but not unseeing. She had never witnessed her master lose control. But even when he did, he remained calm, cold... merciless. He seemed transformed—less like the teacher who had trained her in swordplay and more like the legends whispered in wartime barracks. But she understood. Ivy and Ivan were the last of his family. If she were in his place, she might have done the same.
With an expressionless face, Jetrhu threw the man’s body into the river. The water swallowed it with a splash, and streaks of crimson merged with the ripples. It was no longer clear whether the water was tinted with blood or it was a distorted reflection of the reddening sky.
"Come out." Jethru’s voice remained calm, but Lara sensed a slight tremor. She was no longer surprised that her master knew that she followed him.
He turned slowly to face her, the fading light outlining his silhouette like a ghost.
"Do you think I’m ruthless?" he asked, his voice low and stripped of emotion. "Would you hate me for it?"
Lara faced her master, her back against the fading afternoon light, making her hair glow like copper instead of the soft sheen of brown.
"No, Master. I don’t think you’re ruthless. And I could never hate you. I would do the same if it was me." She paused. "But I do blame you."
His brows furrowed. He tilted his head, confusion darkening his face. Blame?But she said she didn’t hate him..
"Blame me for what?"