Chapter 96: This Story Isn’t as Perfect as the Books Say
The sudden words left Hisidalia stunned in place. Shaya, however, paid no mind to her and merely turned his head to look at the “Silver Fox,” Riel, beside him.
“Oh right, what about the surprise the Borgia Family promised me? You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“Young Master Shaya worries too much,” the head butler, with his silver hair, replied with a smile. Although he was slightly puzzled by Shaya and his young lady’s private telepathic conversation, he assumed it was just lovers’ whispers and didn’t dwell on it. He waved his hand.
The next moment, two middle-aged men with imposing auras and Master-level strength stepped out, escorting a gaunt, middle-aged man. His face was ashen and withered. His hands, hidden by prison clothes, were shackled with heavy mithril restraints, each etched with intricate array patterns. This was one of the current pinnacle achievements of alchemy technology. Each restraint was forged from tens of pounds of deep-sea silver and cost over fifty thousand Rhine gold coins. Its efficacy was well worth its price. It could seal the spiritual power of the imprisoned individual. Below the Legend rank, even an Inspector-level Beast Tamer, once bound by these mithril restraints, would be unable to communicate with their Soul Pact or summon their familiars. Apart from the physical attributes granted by the Soul Pact, they would be no different from an ordinary person.
And the identity of the prisoner confined by this mithril restraint was indeed worthy of its value. A great uproar, far greater than before, erupted within the hall. Everyone recognized the prisoner’s identity, as not long ago, wanted posters from the Holy See were plastered across every street and alley in the northern region of the Empire. The traitor of the Holy See, “Wild Wolf” Warwick. In addition to his exclusive title as a Sixth Ring Beast Tamer, Warwick had an even more terrifying moniker – the “Ceylon Massacre.” Eight years ago, precisely when the northern beast tide raged and the patriarch of the Winter Flower Family, the Count of Winter, was heavily injured, he launched his attack, reducing the small border town of Ceylon to ruins. Coupled with the two northern beast tides that followed, almost no one survived in the entire region of Ceylon. It was only recently that news of Shaya being a survivor of Ceylon had emerged.
“After the tragedy of Ceylon eight years ago, the Empire and the Holy Court were enraged. Warwick knew he had committed a grave offense and hastily fled the civilized territories, entering the Lost Domain to live in obscurity.”
“However, as one of the Eight Great Oathbound Families, the Borgia Family never forgot their covenant. We dispatched people day and night to search, and finally found his trail. A few days ago, the family head personally led several Elder-level experts from the family to apprehend this wanted criminal.” Riel looked at Shaya with a sincere expression. “I know, Young Master Shaya, you personally experienced the massacre of your family. You must have longed for revenge constantly. Therefore, this is the surprise the Borgia Family promised you – to bring the perpetrator of the Ceylon massacre before you. And now, Young Master Shaya, you have the opportunity for personal revenge.”
*Clack*
In the room high above, Isadorella placed down the teacup in her hand. “Lord Goodrian, you’ve gone to quite some lengths this time.”
“After all, we are taking someone from under His Highness’s nose, so we had to show sufficient sincerity. His shining merits are not only noticed by His Highness, but also by us, the Borgia Family. To reach this point solely through his own efforts, without the backing of high-ranking nobles to provide resources… the hurdle of Legend, which is insurmountable for most, should be nothing for him. What I value is not just his ‘Winter Flower’ heritage, but more importantly, the man himself. Isadorella will inherit my position as family head in the future, but she has already become a Saint candidate and will primarily develop within the Holy Court. Therefore, she indeed needs a partner to help her manage affairs in the Empire. I am genuinely looking for a son-in-law.” Goodrian took a sip of tea with a smile. “And this is the sincerity the Crimson Rose Family offers to Shaya.”
The noisy discussions rose again. No one had expected the Borgia Family to go to such lengths for a mere fiancé. They had actually gone to capture a Titled-level expert, and in the Lost Domain at that, a task several times more difficult. Thus, for a moment, myriad gazes converged on Shaya. And on “Wild Wolf” Warwick, who had been released by the two guards and was kneeling on the ground. Looking at the gaunt middle-aged man before him, who had remained silent beneath the mithril restraints, Shaya recognized him with a single glance.
On that stormy night eight years ago, Shaya had hidden behind an ice ridge on a glacier, witnessing this man walk into Ceylon’s Lord’s Mansion. Half an hour later, towering flames and black smoke engulfed the entire city of Ceylon. This was not a substitute, nor a scapegoat found at random, nor an alchemy artifact used to alter his appearance… The man before him was undoubtedly the perpetrator of Ceylon’s destruction. Riel was right; the Borgia Family had indeed given him a great surprise.
Shaya silently raised the silver-white firearm from his waist. “I know you are all anticipating a story like this. A young noble family is massacred, and only one person survives… He trains diligently, receives guidance from a renowned master, and earns the favor of a benefactor. He finally slays the villain, marries the beautiful daughter of the noble family, and reaches the pinnacle of life.”
Shaya’s voice echoed calmly throughout the hall. “It is indeed a perfect story, because that’s how it always goes in books. A prince who had his throne stolen flees to a foreign land, gathers strength, and reclaims his rightful throne. A chosen hero, step by step, finds a lost artifact, recruits powerful teammates, and finally defeats the evil dragon, living happily ever after with the princess he rescued. A man framed and imprisoned escapes, finds hidden treasure, and, in a new guise, makes his betrayers regret their actions. I personally enjoy such stories. ‘Hamlet’ and ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’ are template structures popular with readers.”
Shaya’s wrist moved slightly, aiming the “Sea Blue Judgment” at the kneeling figure. The entire hall fell into silence, awaiting the moment Shaya would exact his revenge. From the highest level of the Oathbound Peak, the attendants’ resting area of the Southern Inspectorate, the depths of the pitch-black night, to above the Astral Realm… it wasn’t just the ordinary attendees. Shaya felt several distant gazes fixed upon him. However, Shaya had no leisure to scrutinize these gazes at the moment.
At this very instant, if he were to pull the trigger of the Sea Blue Judgment in his hand, this story, awaited by so many, would reach a perfect conclusion. He would become a son-in-law of the Borgia Family, possessing immeasurable wealth, status, and a beautiful wife. The Borgia Family, in turn, would gain a potential Legend and conveniently absorb the influence of one of the Eight Great Oathbound Families. Everyone would be happy, except for the villain who deserved his fate… and the unknown truth, buried after the death of the only witness.
*Bang*
The muzzle of the Sea Blue Judgment erupted with firelight, the bullet spinning as it shot towards Warwick’s forehead. “It seems I’ve won this round, Your Highness,” Goodrian’s voice echoed from the top-floor room. A hint of disappointment flashed in Isadorella’s crimson eyes, but she said nothing further. This was the Borgia Family’s overt stratagem. The sincerity they offered was indeed far greater than the minor favors she had provided. She couldn’t fathom a reason for Shaya to refuse.
However, in the next instant, the high-speed spinning bullet shattered upon contact with Warwick’s forehead. This was an unexpected turn of events. While it wasn’t unusual for a regular Titled-level Beast Tamer to defend against a bullet, Warwick was clearly imprisoned by deep-sea mithril restraints. Warwick himself was not a physically enhanced Beast Tamer, lacking the ability to withstand bullets with his human body. Deprived of his Soul Pact and spiritual power, even an ordinary bullet would be lethal. A tenth of a breath later, the shattered bullet transformed into a crimson liquid, gathering on Warwick’s forehead and reflecting an eerie red hue.
The next moment. *Crack* A sound of something breaking echoed. Several light golden, illusory chains wrapped around Warwick’s face shattered. Alchemy projectile – “Demon Bane.” It possessed no physical destructive power but could break seals, elemental barriers, and the like. And the Demon Bane bullet Shaya fired at this moment broke the magical seal that had deprived Warwick of his five senses. As the illusory chains dissipated into fragments, the gaunt man, imprisoned in mithril restraints and appearing like a living dead, suddenly gained a spark in his eyes. He opened his eyes blankly and, the next moment, saw a pair of crimson-gold eyes flowing like molten lava.
“Why did you attack Ceylon?” A majestic voice, like that of an emperor, rang out. As a Titled-level Beast Tamer, Warwick should have had some resistance to such a deterrent skill. But his spiritual power was sealed, and he was already severely injured and weakened. He offered no resistance and obeyed the supreme command, answering, “The Crimson Rose Family sent me a secret letter, promising to use their influence in the Empire to help me escape the Holy See’s pursuit if I could annihilate the Winter Flower Family without leaving any loose ends.” As he spoke, Warwick’s expression suddenly turned hateful. No longer merely answering under duress from “Royal Authority,” he began to speak faster, voluntarily. “But the Borgia betrayed their promise. For a damned fugitive, they want to capture me and use me as a bargaining chip to win him over. I knew these shameless vultures in the Empire are…”
Warwick’s words abruptly stopped. The next moment, his chest was pierced by a spinning bullet. This was followed by the roaring thunder from the muzzle and a massive, exploding blood hole. The high-speed black bullet tore through four or five metal tables and chairs before embedding itself straight into the wall, penetrating over a dozen centimeters. This time, it was a real projectile, a Great Sin Armor-Piercing Round from the military, a leftover from a large purchase. Shaya hadn’t had a chance to use it in the Historical Echo, but now it had found its purpose.
“Excuse me, I am that damned fugitive you mentioned.” Shaya surveyed the surroundings and smiled silently. His smile was serene, yet it sent a chill down the spines of every noble who met his gaze, regardless of their faction or stance. “Unfortunately, it seems this story of mine – isn’t as perfect as the books say.”
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