Chapter 12
last update2026-11-08 16:41:55

The cold hallway of the Grand Winter Pavilion smelled of wet iron, dirt, and stale blood.

Piled upon the transport cart, Captain Bruce and his twelve elite enforcers shivered like dying dogs in the snow.

Their heavy iron breastplates were crushed flat, and their eyes were hollow, empty, and completely devoid of light.

Cynthia stood in the open doorway of her luxury dressing suite, her silk sleeves trembling violently against her pale arms.

A high, shrill shriek tore from her throat as she
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  • Chapter 21

    The green venom bolt whistled through the cold air with a sharp, deadly hiss across the narrow alleyway behind the old clocktower. Ethan Vance did not even blink his glowing golden eyes against the sudden freezing wind blowing down from the northern mountains. He raised his right hand casually, catching the flying steel bolt right between two fingers with divine, effortless precision. A sudden pulse of black solar fire erupted from his skin, melting the thick steel bolt into bubbling slag in less than a second. The glowing green liquid dropped into the dirty snow with a soft hiss, turning the white flakes to gray ash. From the deep shadows of the snowy alleyway, a slow, mocking clap echoed through the howling winter wind. "Well, well, well," a cold, arrogant voice sneered from the dark shadows. "It seems our little slum rat has learned some impressive parlor tricks from those old scrolls." Stepping out from the heavy fog came a tall man wearing a dark purple velvet coat trimm

  • Chapter 20

    The icy blizzard howled violently through the narrow, snow-covered alleyway behind the ancient clocktower. Cold white flakes rained down from the dark night sky, covering the rotting wooden shanties in a freezing blanket of ice. Ethan Vance stood tall in his gray woolen cloak, his golden eyes glowing with a calm, lethal light under the pale winter moon. Cynthia stumbled backward into the dirty snow, her heavy boots slipping on the frozen slush as Ethan's cold words struck her like a physical hammer. She clutched her pale throat with both hands, her violet eyes wide with absolute, terrifying horror as her breath caught in her chest. "Ethan... what... what are you talking about?!" Cynthia shrieked, her trembling voice cracking against the roaring winter wind. "I didn't do anything! Garrick lied to you! Someone else put poison in Toby's food! I swear on my life!" she wailed frantically, wiping cold sweat from her pale forehead. Ethan took one slow, deliberate step forward, the sn

  • Chapter 19

    The bitter winter wind howled through the narrow, snow-covered mouth of the dark alleyway. Cold gray fog rolled past the rotting wooden shanties, carrying the faint scent of sulfur and wet frost. Ethan Vance stood tall at the entrance of the alleyway, his heavy leather boots planted firmly in the freezing slush. His gray woolen cloak snapped gently in the rising blizzard, but his broad shoulders remained steady as a mountain peak. Under the faint silver glow of the winter moon, his golden eyes shone with quiet, divine authority. Stepping out from the heavy shadows of a broken wooden fence, Cynthia shivered violently in the bitter cold air. She wore a torn fur cloak she had stolen from a maid's quarters, its frayed edges dripping with filthy melting snow. Beneath her pale skin, dark black veins of decaying necrosis crawled up her thin neck like a spiderweb of poison. The three Blood-Ignition Pills Garrick had forced down her throat were devouring her inner meridians f

  • Chapter 18

    The midnight bell of Aethelgard chimed heavily across the frozen sky, its deep metallic ring carrying no warmth into the dark streets. True to Lord Director Balor's vicious command, a sudden, terrifying freeze gripped the outer Ironworks Slum. Dozens of heavy syndicate enforcers marched into the border alleys, hauling massive blocks of jagged blue ice on wooden sleds. They slammed the ice blocks together with loud thuds, erecting tall runic barricades that completely sealed off every entrance to the slum district. Glowing blue runes flared along the icy walls, creating an impassable barrier that shut down all incoming traffic. City coal wagons were turned away by armed guards, clean water carts were smashed in the mud, and bread transport trucks were seized at spearpoint. "Turn back!" a heavy syndicate captain roared through a loud brass trumpet, his voice echoing off the frozen shanties. "By order of the City Energy Board, the Ironworks Slum is under total Quarantine

  • Chapter 17

    The Crimson Flame vanished into Ethan’s open palm like water soaking into dry sand. Not a single spark remained in the cold air, nor did a drop of sweat show on Ethan's calm face. The entire banquet hall fell into a suffocating, dead silence that felt heavier than mountain stone. Every governor, noble lord, and trade merchant stood frozen in place, their mouths hanging open in sheer disbelief. No one in the thirty-year history of Aethelgard had ever absorbed Director Balor's Fifth-Rank flame with bare hands. Lord Director Balor stared down at his own right gauntlet, his bloodshot eyes narrowing with genuine, cold caution. The arrogant sneer on his granite face melted away, replaced by the grim calculation of a veteran tyrant. He realized in an instant that the young man standing before him was not a simple slum rebel or a corporate tool. Ethan Vance was a terrifying, unpredictable anomaly—an entity that could swallow Fifth-Rank solar energy whole without a scratch.

  • Chapter 16

    The golden needle of solar gravity vanished from the tip of Ethan's finger. Before the Grand Patriarch could unleash his lava broadsword, stone dust rained heavily from the collapsed ceiling. A violent, crushing force tore through the upper rafters, shaking the high marble pillars of the grand hall. Every crystal chandelier that remained whole shattered into thousands of tiny, flying pieces that struck the floorboards. A massive figure descended from the shattered roof, slamming heavily into the center of the marble room. The ground buckled violently, sending deep cracks tearing across the polished floor toward the high banquet tables. A suffocating aura of deep crimson heat exploded outward from the newcomer's heavy iron body. It was a Fifth-Rank Solar Flare aura, radiating a heavy, burning weight that made the air feel like liquid lead. The sheer pressure slammed into the surrounding crowd of trade lords, city governors, and high merchants. One by one, the wealth

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