Kendall’s stern expression suddenly softened, breaking into a chuckle that grew into loud, hearty laughter.
He laughed, nodding repeatedly. “You’re that confident? You truly believe your husband is the Commander of Seclela?”
Georgia maintained her unwavering gaze, replying firmly, “I trust my husband. He wouldn’t lie to me. But what about you? What gives you the right to question him? Just because you’re the head of Saint Dragon Business Association? Just because you’re here to invest? We don’t need your investment if it comes with disrespect. I won’t stand for anyone doubting my husband!”
Kendall observed her resolve with an amused smile and replied, “It seems he’s mastered the art of deception to the point where even he believes he’s Seclela’s War God.” His words were filled with scorn, causing Georgia’s anger to rise.
“You keep calling him a fraud. Where’s your proof?” she demanded. “Can you prove my husband isn’t the Commander of Seclela? Or are you basing everything on mere suspicion?”
Straightening his posture, Kendall responded confidently, “I never make claims without proof. In fact, I happen to know the real Commander of Seclela. He’s here with me right now!”
The room erupted into murmurs. No wonder Kendall was so certain-he actually knew the true Commander! Understanding dawned on the crowd, their gazes turning from disbelief to judgment toward Georgia.
Georgia felt her heart clench. Could it be true? Was there really another Commander?
But Kendall paid her no mind, and with a resounding voice, he declared, “I wouldn’t have known there was someone impersonating Seclela’s Commander if not for him. Today, we will expose this pretender!”
He turned to the entrance, his voice ringing with authority, “Kendall welcomes Defender of the South!”
The crowd watched in stunned silence, the seriousness of Kendall’s actions making it clear he wasn’t joking. After exchanging glances, they all rose from their seats in unison, echoing, “Welcome, Defender of the South!”
Only two people remained seated-Georgia Adams and Beckett Robinson. Georgia refused to believe there could be another Commander, while Beckett knew the real identities of both Fletcher Atkinson and Kayden Scott. Whatever the consequences, he stood by Georgia.
As the crowd quieted, several imposing figures entered the room. Leading them were two burly men in dark green uniforms, both tall and battle-scarred, with the rugged look of seasoned soldiers. Their mere presence was enough to make the assembled businessmen shift uncomfortably, sensing the lethal aura these men carried.
They entered without a word, lowering their arms in a gesture of deference. Their powerful stance naturally drew all eyes toward the entrance, heightening the crowd’s anticipation for the one who would follow.
Then, a young man strode in, dressed all in black, his boots echoing on the floor. His skin was pale, his face stern, and although shorter and less muscular than his escorts, his aura was intense, commanding the respect of the men beside him.
Three others followed him: a woman in red with a dignified air and two men, one wearing an iron mask. Their presence alone exuded righteousness, though the young man’s demeanor was complex, seeming both dark and light, balanced between right and wrong.
As he scanned the room, his gaze was sharp and unyielding, like a ruler surveying his subjects. He lifted a handkerchief to his mouth and coughed-a seemingly ordinary sound that nonetheless sent an unspoken tension through the crowd.
Breaking the silence, Kendall stepped forward, his previous authority now gone, replaced by reverence. “Commander, please, this way,” he said, his voice filled with respect.
The man, known as the Commander, waved his hand dismissively, not acknowledging Kendall. His gaze shifted to Georgia Adams, and as their eyes met, Georgia felt an intense chill. His bloodshot eyes seemed devoid of any light or life, filled only with a terrifying sense of death-a bottomless abyss from which Georgia couldn’t look away.
With a mocking chuckle, he looked away, stepping further into the room. Each of his steps was steady and powerful, the sound of his boots hitting the floor punctuating the tension, resonating within the hearts of everyone present.
Stopping before Kendall, he said, “You’ve done well, Kendall.” This simple praise was enough to make Kendall beam with pride.
“It’s my honor to serve you, Commander!” Kendall replied eagerly. “I despise those who dare use your name for personal gain. It’s a grave insult to you!”
That Commander offered no response, simply directing his piercing gaze at Georgia. After a moment, he spoke thoughtfully, “Such a naive girl, to believe that man’s lies so completely. Yet it’s not your fault; he’s simply that convincing.”
His calm, deliberate tone held a weight that was hard to ignore, each word landing with finality, as though truth itself had spoken.