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138. Desperate Men and Measures
Author: La Mariachi
last update2026-05-01 18:55:24

Asher realized what it was just a second too late. An arrow had flown past the side of his eye, grazing the side of his left ear before slamming into the far wall with a sharp thud. Morgana’s voice rang out at the same moment, urgent and raw. “General, look out!” Before the echo of her voice could fade, she was already rushing to his side. His expression was unreadable, but there was a single beat of his heart hammering against his chest that told her all she needed to know. The look on his fac
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  • 147. A Tougher Intruder

    Morgana, who had been so engrossed in watching what Asher would do to Leo, didn’t realize someone was approaching from behind Asher. She was supposed to call out, to alert him but before she could, she screamed, “General, watch out!” It was too late. Asher had already sensed the movement behind him. Without turning, he landed a swift back hit on the guard, one the man never saw coming. The dagger the guard had tried to conceal was quickly snatched by Asher, and with frightening precision, Asher drove it straight into the guard’s forehead. The crowd gasped. It was the most gruesome death they'd witnessed. The guard’s eyes widened in shock before he collapsed, flat on his back, the dagger buried deep in his skull. Asher glanced lazily at the fallen man. The moment sent a chill through Leo’s body. The pain in his maimed left hand suddenly felt numb, his entire being froze. He nearly wet himself, staring at the brutal efficiency of the man standing before him. Morgana, who had instinctive

  • 146. We Must Revenge

    What happened next shattered the silence and reality like glass. A sharp, guttural scream tore from Leo’s throat. His voice cracked with agony, echoing across Eden like a siren. All eyes turned toward him. His hand, his left hand was gone. Or rather, most of it. The wrist had been sliced clean through, leaving only a bloodied stump. The severed part of his hand lay on the ground in front of him, fingers still curled as if frozen mid-motion. Everyone froze in shock. Alaric’s eyes darted to the one man responsible, the man he had dismissed, underestimated, mocked. Asher. But Asher didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He stood there, calm and composed, as if nothing had happened. As if Leo wasn’t clutching what was left of his arm and screaming. The crowd began to step back, gasping, tripping over one another as they tried to understand what they had just witnessed. It had happened so fast. Too fast. Alaric reacted instinctively. “Protect the Minister of Health’s son!” he roared. In an i

  • 145. Highest Form Of Betrayal

    Morgana was still watching him closely, thought it was over. That he had truly chosen silence. But she didn’t understand why! But even in that disappointment, she didn’t lash out. She didn’t challenge him directly, even though every fiber of her being wanted to. Her restraint, though silent, was sharp. Then Alaric’s voice broke through once more, full of casual arrogance. Asher, sensing that Leo was beginning to seethe, perhaps even feeling a twisted sense of peace, tried to shift the mood. In a theatrical tone and a bid to calm Leo , Alaric said, “Let’s ignore these people, shall we? What brought you to Eden this time? Do you need a herb or something? Or is it your usual?” Leo only shrugged, forcing a cool smile as though he wasn’t angry. But his eyes gave him away. He was irritated, either at the old woman or at the desperation of the people around him but he tried to mask it. Alaric clapped dramatically. “Ah! That’s right. Your usual!” he said, laughing. “The bailiff, of course. I

  • 144. A Betrayal?!

    A silence hung in the air, thick and expectant. The woman still knelt before Leo, her head bowed low. Her words had been earnest — trembling with desperation, weighted with the cries of children, the ache of families suffering in silence. But Leo only stared. His eyes—those cold, unreadable orbs—rested on her like a shadow. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze toward the gathering. Every sick person, every villager with hollow cheeks and weary eyes, watched him with a strange mixture of fear and hope. They all shared, unspoken conclusion: He’s the son of the Minister of Health. He should care. It was a fragile thread of logic to cling to, but when you were dying, any thread would do. The woman’s voice wavered. “Sir, I know… I know Eden may feel we’ve wronged then. But we didn’t mean to. We didn’t mean to anger Eden, please—” Her hands clutched at her chest as she glanced at Alaric. Alaric scoffed openly, twisting his mouth with exaggerated disgust before turning his head away like her pre

  • 143. He Is No Different

    “Oh my, my.” Someone’s voice —sarcastic and taunting — broke the silence, slicing through the opera-like tension in the air. Asher didn’t turn immediately, but Morgana, the store manager, and the rest of the crowd did. Nobody had realized he had walked up — he must have been watching everything unfold from afar. His vehicle, one of those luxury cars typical of Drakemont nobility, was parked at a distance, but now he stood there with his hands folded behind his back. A young man, flanked by five sharply dressed companions. They weren’t soldiers; no, these were palace guards men — stylish, elite, and unmistakably symbols of influence. When a man was accompanied by palace guards specifically, it meant power and court presence. And definitely, it meant he was not to be trifled with. Those who recognized him immediately whispered among themselves: Leo — the son of the Minister of Health. The store manager, as if Asher hadn’t just spoken to him a moment ago, rushed over to Leo with urgency.

  • 142. Eden Must Open

    Asher had earlier arrived at the gates of Eden, and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. People—frail, sick, weak—huddled together in desperation. Some held loved ones in their arms, their bodies gaunt and failing. He had witnessed the savage beating inflicted on a man moments ago and, in that moment, he didn’t blame Morgana for acting on impulse without waiting for his command. He knew Morgana well enough; scenes like this triggered her fiercely protective side. So he didn’t stop her. Now, as he stood there, watching the store manager who had ordered such cruelty, Asher suppressed the lingering pain throbbing in his head. The poison still coursed through his body, but he forced himself to act as though it didn’t exist. The bandage wrapped around his head was a constant reminder; the physician had suggested it for protection, though Asher had insisted it wasn’t necessary. Asher stood firm despite the weakness creeping into his limbs. He hoped the store manager would not test his li

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