Chapter 122: Xavier’s Grand Performance on the Master Stage (i)
Meanwhile, back in Crimson Vow’s private guild base—shit was not okay.
Lucas was losing his damn mind.
"FUCK!!" he roared as he kicked a metal chair across the hall. It clanged into a crate and sent potions scattering. A couple of guild members nearby flinched and looked away, pretending they didn’t see anything.
Lucas grabbed a decorative spear off the wall and hurled it like a javelin, shattering the digital display board that showed the last raid rankings. Xavier’s name sat right on top—bold, golden, untouchable.
Lucas was practically foaming at the mouth now. "I had him! I had him! That smug bastard! He was right fucking there—" He swung his sword wildly in the air, mimicking the moment he tried to strike Xavier at the end of the raid, only to get teleported out like a clown mid-swing. "AND I LOOKED LIKE A FUCKING IDIOT!"
No one argued.
Ethan was sitting in the back of the room, arms crossed, watching Lucas with the same dead look he always had when Lucas went off like this.
He muttered, mostly to himself, "There’s no saving him..."
Lucas turned sharply. "He’ll be in the next raid. I know it. He has to be. And this time—I’m gonna fucking kill him."
Ethan just rolled his eyes. "With what? Your seven mythics? That guy’s loaded with thirty-seven now. Even if we gang up, we won’t scratch him."
Lucas ignored him and paced around the room like a caged animal. That’s when both of them got the notification.