The Almighty Commander of Pyreking

Chapter 9

The main lobby of the Hotel was filled with an oppressive tension.

Dozens of guests and media executives stood frozen near the pillars, whispering in muted terror as fifty armed, dark-suited Pyreking guards swept through the grand hall, clearing a wide path toward the entrance.

In the center of the floor, Vivian Ellis was on her knees. Her hair hung in messy tangles over her face, and her torn dress was stained with dirt. Tears smeared her makeup as she reached out, trying to grab the pant leg of any guard who walked past.

"Please! Lord Bruce, please!" Vivian wailed, "Give my family a second chance! We were tricked, It was Trevor Rhodes who brought us the loan, we are innocent!"

A few yards away, Trevor stood leaning against a column. His face was drenched of hot sweat as he held his dislocated right wrist against his chest.

When he saw Lord Bruce march down the center carpet with his elite guards, Trevor tried to force a confident smile and stepped forward with a shaky limp.

"Lord Bruce!" Trevor called out, his voice cracking with desperation. "I'm Trevor Rhodes of the Rhodes Group, My father has done business with your eastern branches! Please, listen to reason!”

"Get out of the way, trash!" the lead enforcer barked, shoving Trevor aside so forcefully that he stumbled back against the pillar with a gasp of pain.

Lord Bruce didn't even look at them. His face had lost all its color, and his eyes were wide with desperation as he searched every corner of the hotel lobby. His heart pounded fast.

The satellite signal had traced the signature of the real Pyreking Dragon Seal to these very grounds.

If he didn't find the Sovereign before the hour ended, his whole empire would be wiped out.

While everyone in the lobby stood stunned, the automatic glass doors at the side entrance slid open smoothly.

Tristan walked into the warm hall. He walked with relaxed steps, carrying a plain cloth pouch tied with a worn leather string in his left hand.

In his right hand, he held a fresh paper cup of hot coffee he had just bought from the vending machine near the door.

Tristan hadn't come inside to cause a scene or argue. He had simply come to get Chloe winter coat, which Vivian had tossed on the lobby floor as she was dragging out the auction hall.

Chloe followed a few steps behind him, her face etched with panic, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She watched in silent wonder as Tristan moved with composure through the sea of armed Pyreking enforcers, not worried by their presence.

Tristan walked up to the bench near the main carpet, reached down, and picked up the coat as he lifted the garment and folded it over his forearm, the cloth pouch in his left pocket shifted slightly.

The worn leather string loosened.

The rough cloth slipped back an inch, showing the bottom corner of a gold object inside. the corner revealed a finely carved nine-dragon design, an ancient pattern made with such tiny detail that no modern laser could ever copy it.

Tristan didn't seem to notice.

Ten feet away, Lord Bruce had just turned toward the side hallway. His trained eyes happened to pass over the bench.

The moment he sighted the dark-gold edge in Tristan's pocket, Lord Bruce froze.

His pupils shrank to tiny dots.

Lord Bruce was an expert on ancient relics. He knew their history. He knew their secret engravings. That exact nine-dragon design, the glowing dark-gold color.

It wasn't a replica. It wasn't fake.

It was the legend itself: the real Dragon Seal of the Pyreking Dynasty! The ultimate symbol of supreme power, which commanded armies, central banks, and secret syndicates across seven continents!

And right now, the ruler of the global Pyreking Dynasty, the Supreme commander himself, was carrying that priceless treasure in his pocket.

A wave of terror crashed over Lord Bruce's mind, turning his knees into water.

He realized the truth in a second. The young man in the faded coat, the man whom Vivian had been calling a worthless peasant. the man Trevor had tried to assault in the parking lot.

He was the supreme commander.

"My Lord.?" the chief security officer whispered, noticing Lord Bruce trembling beside him. "What is wrong?"

Lord Bruce couldn't speak. His throat felt as if it were filled with sand. Tears of fear welled in his eyes as he looked at Tristan’s indifferent profile.

THUD!

Before anyone in the lobby could process what was happening, Lord Bruce, the multi-billionaire tycoon who held the entire city’s financial life in his hands, suddenly dropped to both knees right on the central carpet.

The impact echoed through the quiet hall.

The surrounding elites gasped in shock. Vivian froze mid-sob, her mouth hanging open. Trevor stared in complete disbelief, forgetting the pain in his broken wrist.

Lord Bruce pressed his palms flat on the floor and bowed his head all the way to the ground, his entire body shaking in panic right in front of Tristan’s feet.

“Who is that?”

What's going on?”

“Why is Lord Bruce bowing to the man?”