The ancestral hall was eerily quiet when King Ragnar arrived. Only the old patriarch, Drona Lionheart, usually stayed here. No royal wizards were allowed in the vicinity.
As the ancestral place is situated beyond the Fire Mountains, one must cross the forbidden army shelters before coming here.
Ragnar’s eyes, usually sharp and focused, flickered with worry as he stepped towards the entrance.
He went inside and called for his father. But there was no reply.
Just then, a small eagle perched on a V-shaped staff near the doorway made a noise. Its feathers, black and glossy, contrasted with its small frame.
The eagle was the old patriarch’s only pet, a creature that many dismissed due to its size. But Ragnar knew better—this eagle had once ripped apart entire squadrons of elite wizards with its sharp feathers.
Without opening its eyes, the eagle greeted him. “Second son of my master, what are you doing here?” It asked in a raspy voice.
“Where is my father?” he asked hurriedly.
“My master went into seclusion at the Fire Mountains. He hasn’t returned in six months. I do not know his exact whereabouts.” The eagle replied lazily, its eyes still closed.
“I need to meet him urgently,” Ragnar pressed. “Please, find him and pass on a message. Tell him I need the Lionheart Seal to save someone from the royal prison. If he asks for details, say it concerns a matter of life and death.”
The eagle yawned, as though it couldn’t be bothered. “Why should I listen to you? You are not my master,” it replied with disdain.
Ragnar, knowing the stubbornness of the creature, sighed and reached into his storage ring. He pulled out a radiant spirit fruit, its golden surface glowing faintly. He placed it before the eagle.
The eagle’s eyes snapped open, and without hesitation, it swallowed the fruit whole.
“Hmm… delicious,” it murmured, its tone now much more agreeable. “You never forget my preferences, Ragnar. I will help you this time, but it will take three to four days to find him.”
Ragnar’s heart sank. “Three to four days might be too long,” he muttered under his breath. But he had no choice.
The eagle stretched its wings, which expanded rapidly until it grew to the size of a small house. The gust of wind from its mighty wings tore trees from the ground as it ascended into the sky with a powerful screech.
Ragnar watched it disappear, his face heavy with worry. He is not afraid that something would happen to Kent—no, his concern lay in what Kent might do if got irritated.
Even Ragnar didn’t fully understand the depth of Kent’s abilities. The Lotus Chakra formation, which could trap a weak half-sovereign, had been broken into bits by Kent.
—
Meanwhile, deep inside the royal prison, Kent hung suspended in mid-air, bound tightly by enchanted chains and surrounded by layers of magical seals designed to inflict torment.
The royal wizards had been working tirelessly to send pulses of pain through his body, using some of the most ancient and cruel methods at their disposal. But no matter what they tried—magical or physical—Kent remained unaffected, his body immune to their torture like a mountain standing firm against the wind.
It wasn’t just the physical torment that failed; even the strongest wizards specializing in body cultivation had punched him, but their fists rebounded as if hitting an unbreakable wall of beast-like strength. The chief of the royal wizards, drenched in sweat, stood helpless before Kent, his pride shattered.
By evening, Queen Soya stormed into the prison, her face twisted with anger. She had waited eagerly to see Kent in a pitiful, broken state, to relish in his agony. But when she saw him, standing tall and unaffected, her frustration boiled over.
“What the hell are you doing?!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the cold prison walls. “Didn’t I say torture him every second?”
The chief wizard bowed deeply, his voice trembling with fear. “Respected Queen, we have done everything we can. We’ve used the cruelest methods, even tried to break him physically. But… his body resists everything. It’s as though he doesn’t even feel it.”
Soya’s eyes flared with fury. “Incompetents!” she spat before marching towards Kent. Her anger blinded her judgment as she approached him, raising her hand to slap him across the face with all her strength.
But as her palm struck his cheek, pain shot through her hand instead. A sharp sting pulsed through her fingers as if she had struck an iron wall. She winced, stepping back, her face contorting in disbelief. Kent, bound and chained, merely smirked at her, a mocking gleam in his eyes.
Rubbing her sore palm, Soya felt a surge of embarrassment, but her rage soon overtook her. Desperate to regain control, she pulled out a sharp knife.
“I’ll mark that smug face of yours.” She smiled with an evil look, her voice trembling with both anger and frustration.
She slashed at his mask, but as the blade collided with the surface, it produced a loud metallic clang. Soya stumbled back, momentarily stunned by the sound. It was then she realized—she had never seen his face, the face of the man who had almost taken her life.
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Her anger flickered for a moment, replaced by a twisted curiosity. With a wicked grin, she pressed the knife against the mask’s edge, determined to peel it off.
“Don’t remove the mask. You’ll regret it greatly.” Kent warned.
“What?” Soya scoffed. “Afraid I’ll see your ugly face? Don’t worry, I won’t post it in the forums for everyone to mock. Hahaha!”
Ignoring his warning, she slid the blade under the mask and lifted it off with a quick flick of her wrist. The mask clattered to the ground, revealing Kent’s face.
But instead of the gruesome, scarred face she expected, she found herself staring at a man so strikingly handsome, it made her breath catch in her throat. For a second, she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing.
–
“Q: Please comment if you have any thoughts about Kent doing something to Queen Soya!” Thank you for supporting. 😉