Chapter 1350
Chapter 1350:
Failing to kill Makenna sent rage tearing through my veins. I stormed into my quarters, slamming the door open so hard my iron prosthetic screeched against the marble threshold.
A nearby servant jolted in terror, knocking over a tray—scalding coffee splashed across my boots.
“OUT! All of you—get out of my sight!”
I kicked the lacquered coffee table with a snarl, shattering fine porcelain across the floor.
Their frantic retreat only fanned the inferno burning inside me. In one furious motion, I ripped a ceremonial longsword from the wall and slashed it violently against the wooden beam. Splinters flew.
“Mr. Harrison, please—compose yourself…” came a cautious voice. One of my braver aides dared to step forward, wringing his hands. “Prince Colt is—”
“Silence!” I roared, my metal hand slapping him before he could finish. The steel fingers tore three crimson gashes across his cheek, and he crumpled to the floor with a pained grunt. “That spineless fool! He should’ve ended that wretched woman the moment he had the chance!”
My breath came in heaves. I clawed at my collar, eyes wild, chest rising.
Then—footsteps. Another aide burst into the room, barely containing his excitement. “Mr. Harrison! Urgent news—Bryan has gone to the meeting point. Alone. He has the sacred artifact.”
My head snapped toward him. “Are you certain?” My voice was low and sharp, curling with menace.
“Absolutely!” He nodded eagerly. “I saw him myself. He was carrying a box—ornate. There’s a strong chance the sacred artifact is inside.”
A slow, chilling smile curled across my lips. At last. The stars had aligned.
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With the sacred artifact in my grasp, I wouldn’t need to chase Makenna or waste breath on werewolves. Even the Wizard Clan would kneel before me!
“Prepare the men!” I commanded, already reaching for my cloak. “Bring elite guards—but keep them back. I don’t want interference.”
“Understood!”
The night lay thick and heavy, ink-black and silent. Shadows stretched long beneath the trees as we moved swiftly, cloaked by the moonless dark.
The abandoned temple loomed at the edge of Seda Valley. Cracked columns stood guard beside a time-worn altar, half-swallowed by vines. From my vantage point among the rocks, I spotted him—Bryan. He stood alone, framed by the ruin, a box resting at his feet.
I emerged from the dark, footsteps hammering on the stone. “Bryan. You brought it?”
He turned, slow and cold, the dim light catching a deadly glint in his eye. “Where’s Makenna?”
A chuckle rose from my throat, sharp and taunting. “No harm in telling you now—your precious Makenna is rotting in Prince Colt’s private dungeon.”
His expression darkened like a brewing storm.
“The sacred artifact,” I said, holding out my hand. “Now. Don’t make me ask again.”
He didn’t flinch. Without a word, he tossed the box toward me.
I caught it with a grunt, eyeing him warily. “So obedient?” I muttered, narrowing my gaze. Running a hand across the box’s intricate carvings, I slowly lifted the lid.
.
.
.