The helicopter roared through the sky, slicing through the clouds as it descended slowly outside the grand courtyard of Thodell Mansion.
Brandon and the others were waiting outside to greet him, but Flynn ignored them entirely. With purposeful strides, he entered the villa, his presence commanding.
On the sofa, Scarlet was lying down, tears streaming uncontrollably down her face. Her whole body trembled violently, clearly still shaken by the morning’s sudden events.
A bruise darkened her lips, while her right cheek bore a large scrape that had bled slightly. Her arm had been struck by Petrin Wilder’s sword energy, leaving a gash nearly a dozen centimeters long. Though the wound had been bandaged, the blood had already seeped through, staining the gauze red.
She seemed like a soul lost, her eyes dull and lifeless as they stared blankly at the ceiling, tears falling silently.
“Scarlet, I’m back,” Flynn said softly, crouching beside the sofa and gently taking her hand.
Scarlet’s body trembled at his voice. Her gaze shifted, and when she saw Flynn’s face, her tears surged like a tidal wave. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she burst into uncontrollable sobs.
“Flynn, Harriet is dead! Harriet died protecting me!” she wailed.
“It should’ve been me. She shielded me… she saved me…”
Her cries were heart-wrenching, filled with sorrow, despair, guilt, and pain, all merging into a deluge of tears that soaked Flynn’s clothes.
Flynn patted her back gently, his voice calm but comforting. “Harriet was a good girl. I believe that if it had been you facing danger, you would’ve done the same to protect her.”
“Rest well now. Leave the rest to me, alright?”
His broad back and the warmth of his hands brought Scarlet a long-lost sense of security. Gradually, her emotions settled, and she nodded heavily.
On the adjacent sofa, Ronald lay sprawled awkwardly, his face etched with pain. His body was wrapped in bandages, and even his internal organs had sustained varying degrees of damage.
Kendal’s back bore a massive wound, the blood seeping through his dressing. Athena’s face was marred by a hideous sword scar, her entire right cheek grotesquely swollen.
“Master, we failed. We couldn’t protect them,” Ronald struggled to sit up, his voice filled with guilt as he apologized to Flynn.
Flynn waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve done your best. Focus on recovering.”
“Who’s overseeing Jade Dragon Mountain?” Flynn asked.
“Clayton Robinson and Miss Callie from The Edge,” Ronald replied weakly.
Flynn nodded, then quickly scribbled a list on a piece of paper, handing it to Brandon. “Go find these items and give them to them immediately.”
Without another word, Flynn stepped outside. Orion Kennedy was already waiting in the car, and they drove straight to the Hamilton family estate.
The white Bentley came to a halt at the entrance, but before Flynn could step out, the sound of wailing filled the air.
Entering the courtyard, Flynn’s gaze fell upon a wooden bed in the main hall, draped with a white cloth.
His heart clenched painfully.
The distance from the courtyard gate to the main hall was only fifteen meters, but it took Flynn over two minutes to walk it.
With each step, his feet felt heavier, and the ache in his chest grew sharper.
He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine that the person he had spoken to just the day before was now gone forever.
Finally, Flynn stood inside the hall, staring at the outline of the figure beneath the white cloth. His hand hovered over it, retracting and reaching out again, repeating the motion over a dozen times.
He lacked the courage to lift it.
After a long minute of internal struggle, Flynn’s trembling hand finally pulled back the white cloth.
A face covered in scars appeared before him.
The corners of her lips bore dried blood, her right eye swollen grotesquely, and her face covered in abrasions.
She was unrecognizable.
Flynn’s eyes shut tightly, and two streams of tears rolled down his face, falling onto the white cloth and soaking it.
His hands trembled as he gently covered her face again.
“I want to know what happened,” Flynn said, stepping outside the hall, his voice low and strained as he looked to the sky, suppressing his tears.
Orion Kennedy stood nearby and began recounting the events.
Six hours earlier, Harriet had been helping Scarlet organize contract documents when Petrin Wilder stormed into Sharp’s Group.
With one swing of his sword, he destroyed the group’s front gate. The resulting sword energy rippled through the entire compound, shattering glass and causing buildings to quake. The office tower developed massive cracks, and the research lab was reduced to rubble.
Luckily, it was Sunday, and there weren’t many people in the building. Otherwise, the entire research team would’ve been annihilated.
Zion Watson’s men swarmed the building, searching for Scarlet and Harriet. The two women hid, moving from one spot to another, but Petrin Wilder eventually found them.
He struck out with a devastating sword slash, the energy barreling straight toward Scarlet.
In that critical moment, Harriet threw herself forward, shoving Scarlet out of harm’s way.
The sword energy struck Harriet, sending her flying several meters before she crashed heavily to the ground. Her internal injuries were severe, and she died on the spot.
Scarlet, too, was injured. The residual sword energy left her with six fractured bones.
As Orion recounted the story, the cold light in Flynn’s eyes grew sharper and sharper, layer upon layer of icy fury building. His voice was chilling as he spoke.
“Where is Petrin Wilder now?”
“He left a message before departing: he’ll be waiting for you tomorrow afternoon on Redcloud Island,” Orion replied.
Flynn’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Turning to the Hamilton family, he said, “Tomorrow, I will bring back Petrin Wilder’s head to honor Harriet’s memory.”
“Wait for me.”
With that, Flynn turned and left, heading directly to Jade Dragon Mountain.
“Mr. Clark, my condolences…” Callie greeted Flynn as he arrived, her steps small and hesitant. Her eyes were red, a reflection of her heavy heart.
Though she didn’t know Harriet well, she had been deeply moved by her sacrifice. Brandon had told her just how brutal the scene had been-dozens of people gravely injured, Harriet’s body flung over ten meters, lifeless upon impact.
The air still held the faint metallic tang of blood.
Clayton Robinson, standing tall beside the Dragonsfire Cauldron, also offered his respects. “Mr. Clark, my condolences.”
The cauldron’s flames burned intensely, their heat so overwhelming that Callie, an ordinary person, could barely stand it. Brandon had assigned Clayton Robinson to manage it in her place.
Flynn, however, said nothing. His expression was hollow as he mechanically sat beside the Dragonsfire Cauldron, staring into the roaring flames.
“You can all leave. I don’t want anyone disturbing me before noon tomorrow,” Flynn said flatly.
“But what about food? Should I…” Clayton began, but Callie stopped him with a look, silently urging him to drop the matter.
They left quietly.
As Callie glanced back after taking a few steps, she saw Flynn sitting motionless by the cauldron, like an ancient statue that had always been there.
The flames roared and twisted like fiery dragons, the molten iron within the cauldron bubbling violently.
The scene reflected in Flynn’s eyes, merging with the icy fury within him to form a storm of fire and frost.
In that instant, everything around them seemed to change.
The air stilled, and not even a breeze stirred.
The once-clear sky darkened as thick clouds rolled in, blotting out the sun.
By the time Callie reached the base of the mountain, all of Niarak was shrouded in shadow.
A deafening crack tore through the silence as thunder roared and lightning illuminated the darkened world.
Clayton and Callie exchanged a glance, their shock evident. They both understood-this was the manifestation of Flynn’s suppressed killing intent.
Tomorrow, on Redcloud Island, this fury would reach its peak.
But Petrin Wilder was an Earthly Sovereign Blademaster. Could Flynn truly defeat him?
Neither Callie nor Clayton knew the extent of Flynn’s strength, but worry flickered in their eyes.
The news of the impending duel spread quickly, first through Niarak, then across Shipmeda Province, and eventually throughout the entire nation of Ostrad.
The name Petrin Wilder struck fear and awe in all who heard it.
Known as Master Phoenix, he was a blademaster of unparalleled skill, second only to legends like Scott Chilton and Asher Pearce-both of whom had vanished from the public eye decades ago.
With the Phoenix Blade in hand, Petrin Wilder was said to be invincible. His sword was the sharpest in the world, unrivaled in purity and precision.
For over a decade, Petrin had roamed the world, slaying Earthly Sovereigns with impunity, his name becoming synonymous with myth and legend.
The question on everyone’s mind was the same: could Flynn Clark, a man whose true strength remained a mystery, truly stand against the undefeatable Master Phoenix?