General Rhys Vermillion: Return of The Dark Phoenix

VII

Rhys pulled Sunny close with one hand before delivering a concrete-shattering punch to the admiral's chest. The blow sent Sunny flying straight into a pillar that stood right beside Jacob. Everyone knew what was going to happen next; no one waited long to see it come for them. 

None of the standing guards dared move a muscle; they saw what the man could do to an admiral, so they were not in any league close to the man. 

Some guests began running for their lives, not even trying to look back, knowing that the moment they wasted time getting away from there, their lives were in danger. 

Rhys set his gaze on Jacob as he started walking to him. 

Jacob could see it. Something stood behind the man, the bloodshot look in his eyes, and the dread. 

“Your name is Jacob Bohrs, that means you’re related to Evans Bohr?” 

Rhys spoke slowly as he walked to the man. Jacob gritted his teeth, knowing that he wasnt meant to be scared of anyone. 

“Yes, he is my father, and if you know anything, this should be where you kill yourself, you just made yourself a target of the whole country!” 

Jacob was staring at Rhys. He knew there was something about the man in front of him that didnt read as usual. 

Rhys stood there, looking at Jacob, a smile on his face. He could remember when Evans Bohrs used to be his hero, a family friend his father would always talk to, making sure everyone saw him as one of them. 

Evans was a refined martial artist like his late father, a man who didnt take anything wrong. But on that day of the massacre, it was his face that Rhys saw first as he lifted his blade, cutting down his father right in front of him. 

Now, the admiration Rhys felt for Evans was replaced with hate, disgust, and a sour taste. 

“You arent going to hurt me, I am one of the revered lords of this land, and everyone knows that I am royalty. If you touch me, then there is nothing going to save you!” 

Jacob was looking at Rhys, trying to make sure he would get him to see that nothing was going to hold him back from standing up for himself. 

Rhys stood there, staring at the man. A sigh slowly came out of his mouth as he rubbed his forehead. 

“Is this what they have reduced Zenovia to?” he muttered, rubbing his head, trying to get his mind through it. 

“The land my father, his allies, and forefathers worked hard to build has been reduced to nothing but a land where all you do is flaunt your riches and celebrate the death of the original pioneers of this land. You dance in wealth that your father had to pry out of my father’s dying hands—you are beyond pathetic!” 

Rhys roared, raising his hand about to strike Jacob down when he felt a gust of wind coming from behind him, and it was Sunny who was about to land another blow. 

“Die, you bastard!” 

He roared as he tried to land a kick on Rhys, but yet again, Rhys managed to catch the kick. 

“I thought you would learn by now, your little trick doesn't work on me.” 

Rhys muttered as he pulled Sunny closer, and the next thing heard was... 

Snap! 

He broke the admiral’s leg. Sunny let out a wail as he looked at his leg to see that his bone was sticking out. 

Without wasting time, Rhys flung him across the hall, sending him crashing into tables filled with drinks and glasses. 

Jacob didnt say another word; he knew that there was something about the man that felt off, but now he had seen it, and he knew that the last thing he would want to do was keep trying to make him get angry. 

“What do you want?” Jacob asked, trembling as he tried to make sure that he would be able to get out of there with his head intact. 

Rhys turned back to him, his eyes dimmed with a cold look. Trying his best not to kill Jacob there and then to end things quickly, knowing that it wasnt going to be easy for him to get anything done like that. 

“I would want you to tell me something, and I dont want lies, or I will make your death swift,” Rhys said, leaning closer to Jacob, looking him directly in the eye. “What happened to my sister, Isobel?” 

~The Veris Garden~ 

Evans Bohr and his wife, Alicia, could be seen taking drinks with other prominent men of Zenovia. They were all toasting to the death of the Vwermillion family, it was a tradition, one that they would make sure that every year they would hold it. 

“I must say, I never imagined that it would one day be twelve years since we made sure that they would be removed from the face of the earth. Hidan Vermillion was always a stuck-up son of a bitch, I never understood why we let him live for so long.” 

Alicia smiled as she curled up to her husband; the men at the party all let out laughs, seeing that there was no way for anyone to take their position from them.

“I never understood anything about my late comrade,” Evans spoke up. He was looking at his glass of wine. “I gave him a chance to make sure that he would join the winning side, but he wanted to make sure that there was no way for injustice and terror to come to the people. Now he is dead, rotting under the grave.” 

The admirals of the Zenovian Crest were there looking at him, with smiles on their faces. They were all delighted, knowing they would never be denied power. 

“Why dont we raise our glasses, and toast that a foolish man like that will never be seen anywhere close to us again.” 

Julius Hale, the ironfist of Zenovia, the second strongest admiral in the Crest, spoke up, raising his glass. 

All of them cheered as they joined him, raising their glasses with joy in their eyes. It wasnt clear how they would stop rejoicing. 

Suddenly, Evans’ phone began ringing nonstop, disrupting the party. He pulled it out and tried to see who was trying to ruin his day. 

“I told you, no one should call me when I am at this party!” Evans was pissed off, trying not to let anything ruin his day, but then he heard how the person on the other end of the line was breathing. 

“Sir, someone came to the party and attacked it. He has murdered Justin Henshaw, he paralyzed Admiral Sunny, and he is about to kill your son, sir!” 

Evans froze; he didn't believe something like that was possible. 

“Who is this man? How did all this happen?!” He asked, looking at the phone. 

“Sir, we dont know who he is,” the man muttered over the phone, “In all my years, there is no record of anyone that strong or fearless!” 

“I am on my way, he won't leave there alive!” Evans ended the call.