“Mr. Clark, my son is in such a miserable state-truly, utterly miserable. There’s not a single bone in his body left intact.”
“I’ve served the Clark family loyally for over twenty years. You must seek justice for me!”
Inside the council hall, a woman dressed in opulent attire, her makeup flawless, wailed as if mourning the dead. Her cries were so piercing she nearly fainted from the anguish.
She was Viola Brightmoon.
The Brightmoon family had once been ordinary, rising to wealth and prominence by selling out Adrianna and clinging to the Clark family’s power. Viola had always been at the forefront of anything concerning the Duffy family, eager to prove her loyalty to the Clarks.
But now, her son had suffered at Flynn’s hands while bullying someone from the Duffy family.
Every bone in Brody Brightmoon’s body had been shattered. Worse still, he had lost the ability to father children.
Flynn had inflicted some unknown torment on Brody that left his nerves hypersensitive, amplifying his pain tenfold. No amount of painkillers or anesthesia could alleviate this agony. It was torture-neither alive nor dead, caught in an endless nightmare.
Viola had only one son, spoiled from birth. Seeing him reduced to such a state had driven her to the brink of madness.
“Flynn, that beast, is in Slatin? And he crippled your son?”
The uproar Viola caused upon arriving at the Clark family’s estate quickly reached Ignatius. He hobbled into the council hall on his cane, his face twisted in fury.
“Uncle Mike, last time we spared Flynn because we needed the medical manuscripts. But now that we have them, there’s no reason to let that bastard live.”
“Just give me a few men, and I’ll kill him myself! I want him dead!”
Ignatius’s rage burned hot.
He still remembered the humiliation Flynn had inflicted on him in Niarak. Both his arms and one leg had been shattered. Although top doctors had restored basic function, regaining full mobility was impossible.
His hatred for Flynn ran deep, an unending grudge. Ignatius vowed to make him suffer slowly.
“Your Uncle Paxton is in the southeastern province. He’ll be back by noon tomorrow. We’ll decide then,” Mike Clark said after some deliberation, his expression dark.
Mike, too, wanted to see Flynn dead. He could easily kill him himself; as a Semi Greater Sovereign, dispatching a Semi Lesser Sovereign like Flynn was child’s play.
But Tessa Watson had made it clear before that once the medical manuscript issue was resolved, she planned to visit Niarak to confront Flynn personally.
After all, ten years ago, Flynn had slapped her twice-an insult she could never forgive.
After much thought, Mike decided it was best to wait for Tessa Watson to return. She could handle Flynn herself, killing two birds with one stone.
“Mr. Clark, do we really need to wait? Flynn is nothing more than a rabid dog, destined to die sooner or later!”
“Exactly! Flynn is just a discarded pawn of the Clark family. Does Aunt Tessa really need to get involved?”
Ignatius and Viola Brightmoon were impatient and seething.
“Of course we can kill Flynn now, but how do you plan to explain that to Aunt Tessa?”
“She said she wanted to see him with her own eyes. Do you dare defy her?” Mike’s tone was stern and commanding.
The two immediately fell silent.
Tessa Watson-the revered daughter of the Watson family in Slatin.
The Watson family, twenty years ago, was Slatin’s most powerful household, a traditional family of cultivators.
Tessa’s maternal family was the illustrious Wilder family, one of the top-tier clans in Eahta and ranked among the top three families in Ostrad. Their lineage even included emperors.
Vicente Clark’s mentor was a cousin of the Watson family and a member of Talon Emberhart’s elite organization, “Sleeve.”
This connection was one of the reasons Mike Clark had formed an alliance with Talon Emberhart.
If not for the marriage ties between the Watson and Clark families, the Watson family would have remained the undisputed rulers of Slatin.
However, the Watson family had chosen to remain in semi-seclusion, leaving the spotlight to the Clarks.
Given these intricate relationships, Tessa Watson’s position within the Clark family was unshakable.
No one dared defy her wishes.
Despite Paxton’s daily claims of being the family head, the true power behind the Clark family was this woman.
It was Tessa Watson who had orchestrated the massive alliance that besieged Adrianna and her son twenty-three years ago.
She had planned everything-her authority was absolute.
“They’ve gone south to fetch Dr. Rivers. They’ll return to Slatin tomorrow.”
“Rest assured, even without this incident, your Aunt Tessa would never let Flynn off the hook. And when she takes action, Flynn won’t just die-he’ll wish he had.”
Mike’s eyes narrowed, and a cold smile spread across his face.
Ignatius and Viola Brightmoon exchanged glances, their brows lifting sharply. Then they both smiled.
Yes, indeed. Tessa Watson might appear poised and elegant, her every gesture exuding grace and refinement. To outsiders, she seemed no different from any other wealthy matriarch.
But in reality, her methods were ruthless-sharp as an eagle’s talons.
During Adrianna’s years under the Clark family’s thumb, it was Tessa who had manipulated her into surrendering over a dozen ancient formulas.
She had carefully coached Paxton on how to whisper the right words into Adrianna’s ears.
When the time came for the attack, it was Tessa Watson’s strategies that left Adrianna severely injured.
On the night the Clark family ambushed Adrianna and her son, it was Tessa who delivered the most serious of the three wounds on Adrianna’s back-a deep slash that nearly killed her.
If not for the Duffy family’s intervention, Tessa would have finished them off and claimed the medical manuscripts long ago.
It was Tessa’s idea to strip James and his wife of their dignity, subjecting James to lashes and severing one of his wife’s hands.
Even the incriminating photos of Mabel had been orchestrated by Tessa, intending to use them as leverage to force Adrianna to surrender the manuscripts. But Adrianna and her son vanished after leaving Slatin, eluding capture ever since.
“Fine. Let that bastard live another day. Let Mrs. Clark deal with him!” Viola Brightmoon gritted her teeth, her voice filled with anticipation and malice.
What would happen when Flynn and Tessa Watson came face to face?
Would history repeat itself?
One thing was certain-Tessa Watson wouldn’t send Flynn to prison this time. She would kill him on the spot, ensuring his death was as brutal and bloody as possible.
“Oh, by the way, Mr. Clark, I heard from Wayne that Lord Valerian Nox has come to Slatin. He was dining at the same hotel as them earlier,” Viola said suddenly.
“Lord Valerian Nox? The young martial god who defeated Dario Bragg yesterday?”
Mike Clark’s expression lit up with excitement. “Did Wayne see what Lord Valerian Nox looks like? Do you know where he’s staying?”
Just yesterday at Swordgate Peak, Lord Valerian Nox had showcased his Earthly Sovereign prowess before a crowd of ten thousand. The news had spread nationwide-he was a legend in the making.
Mike had heard of him, and Paxton even planned to visit Niarak after securing the medical manuscripts to meet this extraordinary figure.
After all, forming ties with such an individual was beneficial to any family, including the Duffys.
More importantly, Paxton wanted to learn from Lord Valerian Nox, to understand how he trained and what made him so powerful, hoping Vicente Clark could follow suit.
But to think this once-in-a-lifetime prodigy had come to Slatin!
“No, he didn’t. Because…”
Viola then recounted what had happened at the Four Seasons Hotel.
“What?!” Mike Clark shot up from his chair, utterly stunned.
“Lord Valerian Nox killed Lawson Langford? And Carter Langford led his entire family to bow and apologize, step by step?”
“The Langford family has gone mad!”
Mike’s face reflected his shock and disbelief.
The Langfords had ruled Slatin’s underground for eighty years, commanding over ten thousand cultivators. Carter Langford himself was an Adept Greater Sovereign.
Even if every major family, including the Clarks and Watsons, united against Lord Valerian Nox, it was uncertain if they could prevail.
Why would the Langfords bow to him, let alone grovel in such a humiliating manner?
Even if they wanted to avoid conflict, a simple apology would suffice.
What was the meaning of this public spectacle-the whole family and their subordinates kneeling and bowing, step by step?
What on earth was the Langford family thinking?