2025-09-08 22:51:26
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Chapter 225: The Replica’s Demand!
The air shimmered between them like a heatwave, the unnatural hum of Tyler’s corrupted energy pressing on their lungs, bending the light, warping the space itself. Jackson could feel it crawling against his skin as though it was a distorted reflection of the person he once used to be.Tyler’s smile widened, his voice unsteady yet sharp. “The Flameborn Compass, Jackson. Hand it over, or…” His gaze slid to Bella, predatory. “…she burns.”Bella’s breath hitched, but she didn’t back away. She stood tall behind Jackson, though her fingers gripped the edge of the car door so tightly her knuckles whitened.“You won’t touch her,” Jackson said, voice low, steady, and deadly serious. Tyler laughed, the sound fractured like glass cracking. “Always the protector. Always playing the hero. But you don't have that ability anymore Jackson."The distortion in the air thickened, swirling into jagged arcs of light, splitting cracks in the ground. Bella stumbled back, shielding her face from the stingi
Chapter 224: A Fractured Heart!
The safehouse lobby was quiet, too quiet for a city that never seemed to sleep. Jackson kept his hood up as he slipped through the revolving doors, the night air still heavy with the drizzle from Dylan’s funeral. His shoes squelched faintly against the floor, his body heavy as if every step dragged the weight of another coffin behind him.He didn’t want Sky Tower. Didn’t want the suite where memories waited at every corner. He needed somewhere no one would look, somewhere Elara’s eyes wouldn’t reach. That was why he had hidden Celestine here. And now, in his grief, his steps carried him straight to her.After leaving the small hotel on the night that Dylan had died, Jackson was able to find a safehouse that was off the radar and he believed Celestine would be safe there.She had been there for two days, and in those two days, Celestine has been safe and untracked by Elara's men.The key turned and the door opened.Inside, Celestine was curled on the armchair by the window, a thin bla
Chapter 223: Dylan’s Funeral!
The church bells tolled softly against the gray sky, their echoes drifting across the quiet cemetery where mourners gathered in clusters beneath black umbrellas. Rain had threatened since dawn, and now a mist fell lightly, blurring the edges of the gravestones and settling on faces already streaked with tears.Dylan’s coffin lay at the center, draped in white lilies and evergreen branches. The scent was heavy, cloying, mixing with damp earth as pallbearers lowered it slowly into the ground.Jackson stood motionless at the front, his shoulders squared but his face carved with grief he could no longer hide. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, as though the only thing keeping him upright was the discipline drilled into him since childhood. Inside, however, the weight was unbearable.He had promised himself Dylan would live. He had promised that all the sacrifices, would mean something. And yet, here they stood—burying another friend, another brother.Bella slipped quietly to
Chapter 222: Dylan Couldn't Make It!
The drive to Professor Layton’s house felt longer than it should have. Jackson’s nerves were taut, every streetlight blurring past as though the night itself was rushing him toward something inevitable. Layton was his only hope to save Dylan and he would do anything to make sure nothing bad happens to Dylan. Dylan had been very instrumental during the time he lost Flameborn and this was the only way he could repay a favour.When Jackson pulled up to the ivy-clad house on the edge of the old quarter, the sight that greeted him stopped him cold. The front door was hanging ajar. A faint creak stirred as the wind nudged it wider.Jackson’s pulse quickened. Something wasn't right. It was too late for anyone in his right mind to still have their doors opened at this time.He stepped out of the car and walked straight to the door. Pushing it open, he crossed the threshold.The sight inside churned his gut.Professor's Layton study was a battlefield. Shelves toppled. Pages ripped from their
Chapter 221: The Mark’s Spread!
Jackson and Celestine arrived in a small town which was far from Sky Tower and the bustling city where Elara's men could easily track them.They needed a place to spend the night, and so, booking a hotel was the only available option. Luckily for them, they found one, and since the town was small, the people had no idea that he was Jackson Hart, heir to the Hart's Empire.The hotel they had found was modest, tucked into a corner of the town where neon lights buzzed outside.When the receptionist asked them who they were, Jackson told them names that could not be linked to him and Celestine in any way.They eventually checked into the small room, where they hoped to get some sleep before thinking of what to do the following day.Celestine trembled even after the shower he coaxed her into taking, after which, she climbed upon the bed hoping that she'd be able to sleep without fear of Elara's men. Jackson helped her settle gently onto the bed, pulling the heavy covers up to her shoulder
Chapter 220: Safe from Elara!
The bells of the old city clocktower tolled across the skyline, each heavy iron note shuddering through the night like the march of war drums. Their echo lingered in the hollow streets, bouncing between shuttered windows and forgotten stone facades. Jackson’s tires screamed against the cobblestones as he tore around a tight corner, the wheel fighting his grip, the engine snarling like a beast desperate to break free.Every nerve in his body screamed that he was late—that the chance to save her was already gone, that he was chasing shadows. He quickly glanced at the small tracker glowing faintly on the dash and the signal was still there, steady and pulsing. That flicker of light on the screen was the only anchor holding him together, that Celestine was still where she said she was.The tower loomed into view, rising above the old quarter like a relic of some ancient empire. Jackson’s pulse hammered in his throat, faster than the tolling bells, as his eyes swept the desolate street a
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