Chapter 61: Resurrection? A More Terrifying Ambitious Schemer
"Be good, didn’t I make it in time? Look, not even a tear in my clothes. Otherwise, that guy’s hands would’ve been chopped off by me already."
Loka coldly glared at the First Prince, cowering to the side.
Seeing his timid, breathless demeanor, she turned back to focus on comforting the shaken Yiwen.
Yiwen, head lowered, was about to grumble to Loka, but as she looked up, Loka suddenly stumbled backward.
Yiwen quickly supported her, noticing her leg was swollen and bleeding, her face looking off.
"Your leg..."
"It’s nothing, just tripped while going upstairs."
Loka guiltily turned her head away.
She had indeed stayed hidden in the bushes as Kyle instructed, and the searching soldiers had inexplicably left in a hurry.
In such a situation, she should’ve quietly gazed at the night sky, waiting for the moon to set and the sun to rise.
But the bright moonlight seemed to guide her, her eyes coincidentally catching the noisy terrace.
That strand of golden hair, even under moonlight, shimmered uniquely.
In an instant, Loka recognized Yiwen’s figure.
Ignoring medical advice, she used the silver sword to prop herself up and rushed to the terrace.
No choice now—her leg was truly immobile.
Maybe later, she’d find that red-haired guy—should she call him Uncle?
Find Kyle for another round of treatment, and there might still be hope.
Under Yiwen’s mix of anger and sadness, Loka could only smile bitterly as Yiwen helped her move.
The two slowly approached the First Prince, cowering in the corner, now without any confidence or backing.
"What... what are you going to do?"
For some reason, Loka felt this cowardly figure wasn’t even worth killing.
Why did it feel like killing him would lower her own taste and intelligence?
Once sheltered by his maternal family and his prestigious First Prince status, Kleo had been insufferably arrogant, forgetting that without those, he was nothing, no different from any spoiled noble heir.
"Just finish him off? That’d mean one less rival for the throne."
"If you don’t mind dirtying your hands, go ahead. I’m too lazy to bother."
Yiwen glanced at him disdainfully, then helped Loka slowly leave the terrace, leaving the terrified, dazed First Prince Kleo sitting alone.
"You’re just letting him go—ow, that hurts!"
"Let him fend for himself. Don’t move, or the medicine will go on crooked."
In a corner of a second-floor palace corridor, Loka leaned against the wall, gritting her teeth with eyes closed.
Yiwen, unfazed, applied ointment she’d found somewhere to Loka’s leg.
This was Yiwen’s little secret.
Back when she had no presence, she often mingled with the servants, secretly taking emergency medicines, so she knew exactly which rooms stored them.
Speaking of the storage closet, Yiwen seemed to have forgotten something, but Loka’s leg injury was more urgent, so she put those thoughts aside for now.
In the storage closet, Yileta held her breath, not daring to make a sound as dense footsteps echoed outside.
Meanwhile, in the central hall, the Duke curiously eyed the masked figures who didn’t belong.
"Guests are welcome, but those who come uninvited should at least introduce themselves."
The Duke raised a hand, and his black-clad men surrounded the hall.
The masked figures were clearly outnumbered.
Even if they could take on ten each, they couldn’t act rashly against such overwhelming forces.
"Duke Victor Alva, second-generation Imperial Duke, known as the dark side of the empire and its executioner. Your reputation precedes you. We mean no offense; this is merely part of our plan."
"Noisy. I asked for your names."
The Duke had no patience for polite games with worthless prey.
A flicker of impatience crossed his eyes.
His men, seeing this, drew their long blades and pointed them at the intruders, who merely raised their hands.
"Even if you kill me here, it’s meaningless. We’re all moving according to the plan’s design, and for this plan, we’re willing to show our sincerity, as we did with the gift we brought you."
"That man was your doing?"
"He was injured by our men during a skirmish. Though he’s an exceptional poison expert, he couldn’t fully counter our methods, so we handed him over to you as a gesture."
The words rang true. As a military physician and poison expert, Kyle might lack combat skills, but his poisons and powders should’ve let him escape.
If the black-clad men easily caught him, these masked figures’ methods were surely involved.
After confirming with his leader, the Duke signaled his men to lower their weapons for now.
"State your purpose."
The masked figure bowed slightly, then began vividly describing the grand plan of the vast organization behind them.
"If you join us, in the future, we will subdue the rebels of the three empires, eventually annexing the entire continent, bringing all under divine rule."
"Then, you’ll be the empire’s regent, wielding its management and authority, no longer lurking in the Emperor’s shadow as an unsung figure."
Before the masked leader finished, a dagger sliced through his mask.
As it shattered, it revealed a face they least wanted seen.
The Duke’s face was cold.
His men, following his lead, drew blades, cornering the masked figures.
Looking at the leader trying to cover his face, the Duke suddenly laughed.
"I was wondering who it was. Just a bunch of discarded rats crawling back for relevance. Your leader still hasn’t choked on his own stupidity?"
Though he tried to cover it, a dark red mark peeking through the leader’s fingers was strikingly ominous.
Facing the Duke’s taunts, the masked leader remained silent, staring back.
Suddenly, a violent explosion erupted at the center of the surrounded masked figures, blasting even the Duke’s black-clad men away.
"Pointless. The plan has already begun. You’re all just pawns in that lord’s hands..."
As the black smoke cleared, only the charred corpses of the masked figures remained.
The masked leader had mysteriously vanished from everyone’s sight, leaving only a lingering whisper echoing in the air.