Chapter 69: Nothing to Fear, Right?
“Damn it!”
Edith’s face twisted in rage, her carefully applied makeup smeared by tears, leaving two black streaks down her cheeks.
In stark contrast to the collapsed Edith, Ardur suddenly burst into laughter.
“Magnificent! Truly magnificent!”
He clapped his hands elegantly, the Ouroboros tattoo under his left eye glowing with an eerie purple light. No longer concealing his identity, he gave Sean an exaggerated bow.
“I never expected you to come alone yet make so many preparations. I truly underestimated you.”
“I had hoped to properly enjoy this trial drama, but you’ve ruined the show.”
Ardur tore open his refined suit collar, revealing the hideous Ouroboros brand below his collarbone, his smile gradually becoming twisted.
“But it doesn’t matter. It’s time for this drama to reach its final climax!”
With a crisp snap of his fingers, the shadows around the judgment hall suddenly began to writhe.
The black shadows on the walls peeled away like living things, condensing into grotesque, horrifying monsters—they had human-like silhouettes but were entirely black, with only two red-glowing voids where faces should be.
“Allow me to introduce everyone to,”
Ardur spread his arms wide, fanatically announcing,
“The Ouroboros Cult’s latest weapon—’Shadow Demons.’ After today, Celeste City will forever become history!”
Almost simultaneously, alarm bells rang out from the city walls, and panicked cries came through the magical communications.
“Unknown creatures at the east gate!”
“West gate under attack, requesting reinforcement—”
“Ardur, this isn’t what we agreed on! You promised I could be the family head!”
Edith staggered backward, her ruined makeup unable to hide her terror.
“Pawns should know their place. You didn’t really think we had an equal partnership, did you?”
Ardur turned to look at her, his eyes as cold as if viewing garbage. He casually waved his hand, and a shadow demon instantly pierced through Edith’s chest. The woman looked down in disbelief at the blood gushing from her chest before slowly collapsing to her knees.
“I’ve grown tired of this clichéd drama. Now let it have its grand finale.”
“Throwing a tantrum, are we, Mr. Ardur?”
Sean’s voice rang clearly through the chaotic judgment hall, his upright figure standing like an unsheathed sword, steady in the center.
Around them, panicked spectators scattered in all directions amid screams. Several brave mages had already drawn their staves, battling the shadow demons emerging from the darkness, magical sparks flickering in the dim judgment hall.
Amidst this chaos, Sean’s gaze remained cold as ice, locked firmly on Ardur.
“Hehehe, hahahahahaha!”
Ardur suddenly burst into maniacal laughter, the sound mixed with twisted delight.
He swept his disheveled black hair back, revealing that handsome face slightly contorted with excitement. When the laughter abruptly stopped, his expression instantly turned cold, the Ouroboros tattoo under his left eye glowing with eerie purple light.
“This time I miscalculated and underestimated your abilities.”
Ardur’s voice was low and dangerous, his slender fingers gently caressing the sword at his waist.
“But the script’s ending is already determined. You can’t change it either.”
Sean merely raised an eyebrow slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips.
“I truly envy your confidence, Mr. Ardur.”
His voice carried a hint of teasing, though his eyes were sharp as knives.
“However, my favorite thing to do is—rewrite predetermined endings.”
“Hmph, enjoy your verbal victories while you can. Soon enough, both you and Celeste City will become dust in history’s wind. But before that—”
Before Ardur could finish, a snake-shaped dagger glowing with eerie blue light suddenly appeared in his hand. A flash of viciousness crossed his eyes as his form moved like a phantom toward Cynthia, his voice like a serpent’s hiss.
“I must first eliminate you, the troublesome Saint!”
The dagger sliced through the air, aimed directly at Cynthia’s throat.
Cynthia instinctively closed her eyes, her long lashes trembling slightly as she waited for the coming pain. But the expected agony never came—only the crisp sound of “clang” reached her ears.
She snapped her eyes open to see Ardur clutching his numbed right hand, the snake-shaped dagger fallen to the ground with a still-smoking red bullet embedded in its blade. Ardur glared darkly at Sean in the distance, whose gun barrel still smoked.
“You bastard…”
Before he could finish, another gunshot rang out. The bullet precisely struck the Black Death ore shackles on Cynthia’s wrists. Sparks flew as the heavy restraints shattered. Losing support, Cynthia’s legs gave way, and her body tilted forward uncontrollably.
Just as she was about to fall, a strong arm steadily caught her waist. A familiar warmth enveloped her as Cynthia looked up to meet Sean’s calm eyes. His other hand gently rested on her back, warm mental energy flowing like a gentle stream into her depleted magical circuits.
“Sean, what… what is all this?”
Cynthia asked weakly, her voice still trembling from her close brush with death. She could feel the magical power rapidly returning to her body, like parched earth welcoming rain.
“It’s a long story. I’ll explain everything slowly after we deal with things here.”
Sean looked down at her, a gentle smile curving his lips, though the black pistol in his hand remained trained on the distant Ardur.
Ardur stood at a distance, his sinister gaze shifting between the two.
“Hmph, you win this round, mental comfort user.”
Suddenly, he jerked aside as a bullet grazed his cheek, leaving a bloody streak on his pale skin. He wiped away the blood, sneering.
“Next time won’t be so simple—”
Ardur’s figure began to blur, becoming like smoke scattered by wind, his voice gradually fading.
“Assuming you can live that long.”
As the last syllable dissolved into air, Ardur’s figure completely vanished, leaving only the twisted snake-shaped dagger on the ground and the rising cries of alarm throughout the judgment hall.
After Ardur’s figure completely disappeared into the shadows, members of Agatha’s faction from the Celeste family immediately surrounded them.
The fighting continued on the periphery, with magical and blade clashes echoing continuously. The old butler led several core members through the crowd to Cynthia, his aged face full of anxiety.
“Young Miss,”
The old butler said in a trembling voice, his wrinkled hands gripping Cynthia’s wrists tightly.
“The family head has not yet awakened, so you are now the acting head. Celeste City is in grave danger. Without unified command…”
Cynthia’s lips trembled slightly, confusion flashing in her ruby-like eyes.
She instinctively turned, her gaze passing over the crowd to land on Sean. After experiencing this ordeal, the young man before her had unknowingly become her pillar of support.
“Thinking I came alone—probably only that idiot Ardur would believe that.”
Sean felt everyone’s gazes and smiled warmly, his slender fingers gently grasping Cynthia’s cold hand, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Just then, a crimson magical communication light appeared before everyone.
In the projection, neatly arrayed members of the Crimson Knight Order stood at attention. Their deputy commander—a heroic female knight—knelt on one knee, her red and white magical armor gleaming in the sunlight.
“Lady Cynthia, the entire Crimson Knight Order has assembled outside Celeste City and awaits orders. Please issue your battle commands!”
Her voice rang strong and clear.
Cynthia’s pupils dilated slightly as she looked at those familiar faces in the communication, warmth surging in her chest.
Sean gently squeezed her hand, his smile deepening, his voice carrying reassuring strength.
“See? Nothing to fear, right?”