Chapter 119: Thutmose’s Confusion
After speaking those words, Alex let his gaze drift across the gathered nobles one last time. Among them, some wore the hollow expressions of those who had already accepted death, their wills broken cleanly. Others trembled, unable to look at anything except the severed head in Alex’s hand—the head of Khepri, the man they once called sovereign. Not a single word came from them. No weeping. No shouting. Just stunned silence.
He expected to feel satisfaction. Triumph, even. But all he felt was disgust.
"These are the ones who ruled millions," Alex muttered under his breath, his voice nearly drowned by the wind. "Pathetic."
The bile in his chest churned, not from the wounds that still pulsed with pain beneath his skin, but from the void left inside him. The inner demon stirred, restless, unsatisfied. Too easy, it whispered. They didn’t even fight back.
His eyes narrowed—then landed on Thutmose.
Unlike the rest, Thutmose stood tall, composed. His posture didn’t scream surrender. No—he looked at Alex directly, eyes steady, his face calm despite the suffocating mana pressure Nyxara had cast to keep everyone frozen. Not even a Grandmaster dared twitch under her presence, but Thutmose simply endured, showing no signs of fear or desperation.
Then Thutmose finally spoke.
"I suppose you aren’t going to let any of us go. Seeing as my family destroyed yours."
His voice was firm, not defiant—just honest.
Alex met his gaze. "Yeah. I don’t plan on letting anyone leave. Do you have a problem with that?"
"None at all," Thutmose said. "We started this. We bear the consequences."