“I gave the Clark family two chances, and they squandered them both,” Flynn said, his face devoid of emotion.
In just one sentence, Flynn made his position clear, sealing the Clark family’s fate.
Lyra stared at the man before her. He seemed both familiar and foreign. The same commanding presence and dismissive tone, but now with an added coldness and finality.
This coldness felt like it came from an abyss, chilling to the bone. Even Lyra, who was no stranger to danger, felt a wave of icy dread.
She realized there was no turning back for this man.
The future of Ostrad was shrouded in uncertainty.
A direct confrontation was inevitable.
“Help me heal, like you did three years ago on Demon Island,” Lyra said, lying down on the couch.
She avoided further discussion about the Clark family. There was no point in persuasion. All she could do was savor this last moment of peace.
After today, that peace would shatter. If Flynn struck against Mike Clark and his people, Talon Emberhart’s rage would be uncontrollable.
The Ostrad military would mobilize to hunt Flynn down.
As someone in the military herself, Lyra knew that one day, she might face Flynn on the battlefield.
Ostrad could not tolerate a force as defiant and rule-breaking as Flynn.
This was fate, unchangeable.
She couldn’t help Flynn.
Not even Maxwell Grey could.
Because this had surpassed family grievances and ascended to a higher level…
Flynn didn’t refuse her request. He took out silver needles and began disinfecting them.
He didn’t like Lyra’s stubbornness, but he understood the goodwill of the Whitaker family and Maxwell Grey.
Lyra removed her coat, lifting her shirt to reveal her pale skin and slender waist.
“Your training has taken its toll over the past two years. I can see the marks of hardship,” he said.
“I’ll help you advance to Greater Sovereign today. That way, you won’t have to suffer anymore.” Flynn pressed a few points on her back, locating her hidden injuries.
“No need,” Lyra replied, her voice distant as she lay there. “The more I owe you, the harder it is to let go.”
Her mind drifted back to three years ago.
At that time, she had been in a terrible state. Recently promoted to Black Phoenix Commander, she faced constant skepticism from the military.
Rumors spread like wildfire, claiming that Lyra, a mere Semi Lesser Sovereign, was unfit to lead eighty thousand Black Phoenix soldiers. They said she was only riding on Nate Black’s reputation.
Flynn had helped her become a Semi Greater Sovereign and even provided her with a body-tempering technique.
He had also written a training manual that enabled Yves Yancey’s forces to penetrate three hundred miles into enemy territory, securing victory in a three-year-long border war.
The Black Phoenix Division had participated in that war, playing a crucial role in their triumph.
It was a battle that earned Lyra legendary status, silencing all doubters.
But Flynn had made it clear before doing all this-he wanted no credit, no recognition.
To the outside world, it was all Lyra’s achievement.
Her rise to this level of strength appeared to be the result of her own efforts.
Lyra remembered it all. Gratitude had turned into admiration, then into an affection she couldn’t escape.
And the deeper her feelings grew, the more reluctant she became to accept Flynn’s help. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing him as an enemy one day.
“Do you really feel nothing for me?” Lyra turned her head, her expression complicated, sadness flickering in her eyes.
Flynn smiled faintly. “Of course I do. But it’s only friendship, nothing more.”
“Then I’ll think of you as a brother,” Lyra whispered, falling silent.
Her mind conjured the image of Maxwell Grey, his hunched back vivid in her memory.
He was in his seventies now.
She remembered how animated Maxwell had been when he first heard Flynn’s name. The old man had practically danced with excitement, exclaiming, “This one is no ordinary man! He is destined to lead the Dragonguard one day!”
“Let him train in Shelon for ten years, then take my place!” Maxwell had laughed, his voice booming with confidence.
“If he joins the military, he’ll break Talon Emberhart’s monopoly and family dominance, weakening the Sleeves’ grip on the Dragonguard!”
But now, that vision seemed impossible.
Things had taken a sharp turn, spiraling into chaos. No one could predict what would happen next.
The Sleeves were too formidable-a group of monsters who had never fully revealed themselves to the world.
Flynn was up against the entire military of Ostrad.
The entire cultivation world of Ostrad.
A land teeming with hidden power, with a history spanning five thousand years.
As Nate Black, Lyra’s father, had once said: “If the Sleeves step into the mortal realm, they can resolve any crisis in the world.”
No matter how strong Flynn was, how could he possibly prevail against Ostrad’s divine arsenal?
Lyra couldn’t imagine it.
And she couldn’t stop it.
Not even her father, the infamous “Butcher,” could.
“These are just old injuries, mostly due to muscle strain. Why push yourself so hard?” Flynn shook his head and muttered.
He had a sense of what Lyra was thinking-her father was a dragon, so she felt she couldn’t fall short.
But was the opinion of the world really so important?
Living by others’ judgments would only make life exhausting.
“You’re a bit anemic. Have you been overworked lately? Sleep-deprived? Rest here for a while,” Flynn said after finishing the acupuncture session. “I’ll get a blanket from Ms. Sharp’s room.”
“I want one you’ve used,” Lyra murmured, curling her legs slightly as she drifted into sleep.
For the past six months, she had carried the pride of her father, the glory of Black Phoenix, and the anxiety of searching for Flynn.
She was exhausted.
Black Phoenix remained one of the top three divisions, and she had found Flynn.
Her initial anger and desire for answers had dissolved the moment they met.
Lyra had come to understand something-she had a thousand reasons to find Flynn, but not a single justification to be angry with him.
This change was partly due to Tamsin’s advice and partly due to her own sympathy for Flynn.
His path ahead would not be easy. She couldn’t bear to add to his burdens.
Flynn went downstairs to his bedroom, retrieved his own blanket, and gently draped it over Lyra.
This woman had been running around for too long. Combined with the fatigue of military exercises, she would likely sleep the entire afternoon.
To avoid disturbing her, Flynn went outside and started scrolling through short videos on his phone.
Meanwhile, at Slatin Airport, a private jet landed.
The Paxton family had returned from the south, accompanied by an elderly man-Dr. Rivers.
For the past six months, Dr. Rivers had been working on deciphering the medical manuscripts.
A convoy of cars drove them back to the Clark family estate.
Mike Clark came out to greet them, mentioning that two of the Sleeves’ elders had visited the Clark family.
He also briefly described Brody Brightmoon’s condition, whose entire body had been shattered.
“All his bones broken?” Paxton’s expression darkened, fury rising to the surface.
A blatant provocation!
Utter defiance!
“Paxton, are you still going to spare that traitor?” Tessa Watson asked coldly, her gaze sharp.
“Spare him?” Paxton’s face was icy, as if he were talking about an enemy rather than family.
“The Sleeves have come to demand justice. Even if I wanted to spare that wretch, it’s out of my hands now.”
“Vicente, you’ll accompany me to meet those two esteemed elders and deal with that beast!”
“I’ll go with Vicente,” Tessa Watson interjected, her tone frosty.
Her cold eyes held the memory of an event from ten years ago.
That day, Flynn had come to the Clark family to demand answers. Paxton had been absent, so Tessa had received him, assuming he wouldn’t dare harm her.
But with just one mocking remark, Flynn had erupted in fury, slapping her twice with all his might.
The blows had left her seeing stars, nearly knocking her unconscious.
Even after Paxton had whipped Flynn’s back bloody, it hadn’t soothed her anger.
She had falsely accused Flynn of assault and demanded Paxton kill him.
Paxton had intended to do so, but Layla’s father had intervened, convincing him to send Flynn to Demon Island instead.
Flynn had survived the island’s horrors, thriving in Niarak.
Now, with Brody Brightmoon’s injury as an excuse, Tessa was ready for another confrontation. She wouldn’t let it go this time.