The kitchen smelled faintly of oil and herbs, a quiet warmth that should have been comforting. But for Lysa, the warmth felt like fire. Her hands trembled as she chopped vegetables, the rhythm uneven, her mind spinning like a storm. She tried to focus, tried to tell herself she was just a new maid trying to do her duty. But the thoughts in her head refused to obey. Every memory felt jumbled. Faces she couldn’t place, instructions she couldn’t remember, whispers she didn’t understand. Her knife slipped. The vegetables scattered across the floor. A plate, balanced precariously on the edge of the counter, teetered. Lysa froze, eyes wide. The plate fell. It shattered. Ceramic shards flew across the floor, cutting into her palm. Pain—sharp, real—stole her breath for a moment. She looked down at her hand, red spreading like ink on paper, and her heart raced faster than the blood that dripped. And then… a cold voice cut through the room. “You incompetent child!” Lysa spun aro

The hospital room was sterile, cold, and silent except for the faint beeping of the monitors that tracked Elena Graham’s vitals. Sunlight streamed weakly through the blinds, casting narrow stripes across the white floor. She lay in the hospital bed, bandages covering her arm and leg, her breathing shallow and even. For a moment, it seemed peaceful, almost normal—but the danger lingering just outside the room threatened to shatter it.A door creaked open, and a man in a white coat stepped in briskly. His badge identified him as one of the hospital’s new attending physicians.“Good morning,” he said in a practiced, almost too-cheerful tone. “How are you feeling today, Ms. Graham?”Elena’s eyes fluttered open, tired but alert. “I’m… okay, I think,” she replied weakly. Her voice was hoarse, but she tried to keep it steady.The doctor smiled faintly and moved toward her bedside, clipboard in hand. “Let’s take a look at your vitals before we proceed with any treatment. Blood pressure… pulse

Chapter 168 "You must think I'm a fool and maybe I was going to face you head on. but no, I'll take you unaware, this is just a hint of what you're about to face" Jen, the assassin who was on the other hospital tower trying his best to stay away from Adrian. He has felt he was coming from him.and quickly left, now he stood few meters away from the hospital.. A figure suddenly landed on on the same roof. He was wearing a grey robes that shimmered like mist, his presence quiet but suffocating. "I guess I didn't miss you scent, good thing we meet" the person said, and his face shown it turns out to be Smith from the elders pavilion.. The Jen clenched his fist, as he stiffened, then slowly turned. “…You.” Smith stood a few steps away, calm and unhurried, silver light faintly glowing in his eyes. “You were told not to touch him, did your cult thinks the Elders pavilion is a joke?” he asked.. The Jen let out a dry laugh, his voice rough from the punishment he had endured. “I was to

Elena lay on the hospital bed, her mind still foggy from the sedatives. Her eyes opened slowly at the faint click of the door. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her body, forcing her back down with a wince. She inhaled sharply, then turned her gaze toward the entrance. Adrian stood by the doorway. For a moment, he didn’t move. But his eyes were different. “Adrian,” she said weakly, her voice strained. Adrian stepped inside and closed the door softly behind him. His eyes stayed on her as he crossed the room and took a seat beside her bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked. His tone was calm, steady—almost detached, but not unkind. “Better,” she replied quietly. “The pain is manageable now.” His gaze briefly dropped to her bandaged leg before returning to her face. “You’re lucky to have survive it. Some people wouldn't have” he said simply. Elena swallowed and nodded faintly. “I know.” Adrian broke the silence first. “You almost died. You shouldn't have take

The night had settled quietly over the Nightfall Zone. The moon hung high, casting a silvery glow over the darkened landscape. The stillness of the world was eerie, almost oppressive, as if the earth itself was holding its breath.Within the heart of the Nightfall Kingdom, nestled behind ancient stone walls and guarded by the mystical powers of the land, sat the royal family’s private chambers. In the grand hall, King Thalor sat upon his throne, his brow furrowed in deep thought. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on the stone floor beneath him, his hands tightly clasped together. Beside him stood his wife, Queen Elara, her face pale and drawn, as if the weight of something unseen was pressing down on her. Their son, Prince Corwin, stood beside them, his expression tense.For several hours, the family had been waiting for any sign, any message from Princess Elowen. But none had come. And in the world they lived, such silence was ominous.“Why haven’t we heard from her?” King Thalor fin