Gerry suddenly opened his eyes-he was here!
A man in a regional battle uniform strode into the Ford family hall, exuding glory and vitality. Upon closer inspection, the man wore three stars of honor on his arm-the Three-Star General!
This was the Three-Star General of Seclela, a position that countless people aspired to but few could achieve.
The arrival of a Three-Star General was far from ordinary. He was flanked by a group of fierce warriors, each armed and displaying the signs of rigorous training.
Kayden slowly turned to see Ernest Ford entering through the door. His face was serious, his demeanor regal. Kayden thought that what should have been a source of pride was soon to be obliterated!
From the moment Britton, his subordinate, died, Kayden had decided that the entire Ford family was destined for extinction.
As Ernest stepped inside, he instinctively surveyed his family home, clearly having been away for many years. His eagle-like gaze commanded respect wherever it fell. Above his now-gray eyebrows rested a serious expression, making him appear as the strict general he truly was.
Finally, his gaze settled on Kayden, and he snorted, his voice booming, “As long as I’m here, no one can harm the Ford family!”
His words resonated with authority! Strong and forceful, they reflected years of service in the region.
From the moment he entered, he had been sizing up Kayden, concluding that he was just another inconsequential individual.
Judging from Kayden’s appearance and attire, Ernest suspected he was merely a killer.
Ernest had encountered many assassins in his time, most sharing a similar aura to Kayden’s. Thus, he confidently spoke without concern.
In his eyes, such killers were often arrogant, convinced of their abilities. However, most eventually succumbed to their intimidation.
Ernest locked his sharp gaze onto Kayden, trying to crush him with sheer force of will.
It must be said, that Ernest’s gaze was indeed piercing. The average person would feel intimidated. But he faced Kayden, a man who had fought countless battles and was revered throughout the region, even in Seclela, as a “god.”
Could a mere gaze compel Kayden to submit? Ernest was naive enough to think he could intimidate him.
Kayden met his stare unwaveringly, undeterred by the challenge. To Kayden, such a gaze was insufficient to pose any threat.
Yet, Ernest’s aura was undeniably powerful and charismatic, clearly the pillar upon which the Ford family’s status relied.
As a Three-Star General, akin to a mid-level general, he didn’t recognize Kayden and was not qualified to engage him directly. Hence, he sought to overpower Kayden with his commanding glare.
A few moments passed before a voice, tinged with desperation, pierced the silence: “Ernest.”
It was Gerry’s voice. Upon hearing it, Ernest diverted his attention, dismissing Kayden from his mind.
“Gerry, are you alright?” Ernest’s gaze shifted to Gerry, whose kneeling figure was knit with worry. That was his true concern.
With a deep sigh, Gerry discarded the dagger in his hand, stood up, and tearfully said, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Ernest, you’ve finally returned! If you hadn’t come back now, I might never have seen you again.”
Gerry trembled as he grasped Ernest’s hand. Ernest immediately supported his elder brother who had suffered a lot. The two embraced tightly, seemingly connected by an unspoken bond.
“Uncle Ernest!” cried the Ford family members, their voices filled with hope and tears.
After the embrace, the two stepped back. Ernest’s expression turned serious. “Gerry, what on earth happened? How could the Ford family suffer such a grave disaster? Were those bodyguards outside all killed by him?” He pointed at Kayden, confusion evident on his face.
Gerry came back to himself, nodding rapidly. He pointed to the gnawed bones on the ground, his voice trembling, “This is Marlon’s remains. He was killed by him.”
Tears streamed down Gerry’s face, a testament to his anguish.
“Wha-?” Ernest’s eyes widened in horror at the bloodied bones, a horrific scene of murder. Setting aside the atrocity itself, the fact that his nephew had been so brutally harmed was beyond comprehension.
“Soldiers!” Ernest gritted his teeth, issuing orders. Instantly, over a hundred ruthless warriors armed with rifles stormed in, automatically forming a circle around Kayden, raising their weapons to aim at him.
Kayden glanced at the warriors encircling him. When had he ever faced such humiliation?
Yet, he remained silent, withdrawing his gaze to focus back on Ernest’s face. After all, the orders came from Ernest, and the soldiers were merely executing commands.
Witnessing this thrilling scene, Leonel stepped forward, unabashedly warning, “Uncle Ernest, this guy is incredibly cunning. Just now, Marlon shot at him, but the bullet didn’t even penetrate! He caught it with one hand! Marlon lost his life to that very bullet. Don’t hesitate, give the order to fire and kill him now!”
“Indeed, Uncle Ernest, shoot him immediately! He’s too arrogant, having killed Marlon! He means to kill us all,” Cutler sobbed in accusation, his tears momentarily drying as he fixed his gaze defiantly on Kayden. It was as if he silently taunted, ‘Aren’t you strong? What can you do now? No matter how formidable you are, you can’t possibly overcome over a hundred elite regional warriors and their rifles!’
Gerry added, “Ernest, Cutler is right. You must be cautious.”
Being careful was something Gerry had learned in his long tenure in this position. Even when facing a hundred rifles and elite soldiers, Kayden’s earlier actions had shaken him, making him especially wary.