FIVE
1084 Words
Lance’s smirk deepened.
“Mercy?” He scoffed. “I’m curious. How exactly do you plan to show me mercy?”
His eyes darkened. “You’re nothing but a fly in my eyes.”
The chief’s expression twisted with anger, but before he could speak—
Malcolm stepped forward.
“Lance,” he sneered, “you forget something important.”
He gestured toward the chief.
“The chief's nephew is a warrior in the Prescott army.”
The crowd murmured in agreement.
Malcolm smirked.
“One call from him, and you, a deserter, will be a dead man.”
Alistair’s eyes lit up with hope.
A smirk returned to his bloody lips.
“Did you hear that?” Alister rasped. “You better let me go now, or—”
SLAP!
Lance did not even let him finish his sentence when his other hand struck Alistair’s face.
The impact sent him crashing to the floor.
Blood spurted from his mouth as he groaned in agony.
Lance tilted his head to the chief, cracking his knuckles.
“A warrior of the Prescott army?” He chuckled. “Even he would bow to me.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
The chief’s face darkened. “How dare you disrespect a warrior of Prescott like that?”
Lance’s smirk didn’t fade. “You use his name to oppress people and act untouchable.” He crossed his arms. “Since you have so much confidence in him… call him. Let him know just how much trouble you’re in.”
The chief’s jaw clenched and his patience snapped.
“Men! Surround him!”
The guards hesitated.
They had seen what happened to the others who tried to stop Lance.
But they could not afford to defy the Chief, so they slowly surrounded him.
The chief’s face twisted with rage. “Tie him up!” he roared. “Hold him until my nephew arrives! I will end his life!”
Nicholas folded his arms, shaking his head.
“See where your stubbornness has led you, Lance?” His voice dripped with mockery.
Then his eyes gleamed with cruelty.
“But don’t worry,” Nicholas sneered. “Once you’re dead, the chief will take good care of your wife.”
Laughter erupted among the officers.
Evelyn's face twisted in disgust as Lance’s fists clenched.
His rage was reaching its breaking point.
Lance’s glare snapped toward Nicholas. His finger jabbed toward him, his voice boiling with fury.
“You bastard!” His tone was sharp and deadly.
His body trembled with barely restrained rage.
“My father saved your life years ago, and this is how you repay him?”
"By slandering my family?”
Lance’s eyes were murderous.
“You’ll pay for that, with your life.”
The chief scoffed, unimpressed.
“Oh, please,” he drawled, rolling his eyes. “All you’ll ever be is a low-life.”
A cruel smirk spread across his face.
“Astra Corp sponsored the renovation of this Memorial Hall."
"And guess what?” He let out a mocking chuckle. “My nephew is coming to inspect it.”
His eyes gleamed with malice.
“Let’s see how stubborn you can be then.”
Malcolm sneered, stepping closer.
“When he arrives, you’re doomed.”
John’s breath hitched. His old eyes flickered with desperation.
He suddenly fell to his knees.
His voice cracked with pleading.
“Please… We have waited for Lance to return for years… We have suffered enough.” His frail hands clasped together.
His voice trembled.
“Lance just got home… I beg you, spare our family!”
John's frail hands clutched Evelyn and Rachael, pulling them down beside him.
"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Kneel. Beg him!"
Tears welled in Evelyn’s eyes as she dropped to her knees, her arms wrapped protectively around Rachael.
"Please, have mercy!" she cried.
The chief sneered, unmoved.
John turned to Nicholas, his eyes filled with desperation.
"Nicholas!" His voice trembled. "I saved your life once… You owe me! Speak for us!"
Nicholas smirked, crossing his arms.
"Is that so?" His voice dripped with mockery.
His eyes gleamed with twisted amusement.
"Then beg, old man."
John froze.
The hall fell into dead silence.
Nicholas’s grin widened. "You and your son should beg for your lives."
His next words sent a cold chill through the crowd.
"Then maybe I will consider speaking for you."
Gasps filled the room.
Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath, horrified.
Rachael sobbed, clutching John’s arm.
"Grandpa, no!" she cried.
John’s body shook violently, and his knees wobbled as he tried to stand, but—
THUD!
His body collapsed.
"John!" Evelyn’s scream pierced the air.
She grabbed him, shaking him desperately.
Rachael wailed, tears streaming down her face.
"Grandpa, wake up!"
John’s chest rose and fell—he was breathing, but he was unconscious.
"Dad!" Lance exclaimed as he rushed to his side.
Evelyn sobbed, cradling him.
Then… something inside Lance snapped.
His head lifted slowly, his gaze locking onto Nicholas.
His voice was eerily calm.
"You’re going to die today."
Nicholas burst into laughter.
"Me, die?" He spread his arms mockingly.
"How can you blame me for this dying old man?"
His grin turned cruel.
"You should blame yourself."
His words cut like knives.
"You’re a useless, trash son—"
"—who couldn't even protect his own family."
The chief scoffed, shaking his head in mock disappointment.
"Your father should have raised you better," he sneered.
His cold eyes flickered to John’s unconscious body before settling back on Lance.
"He sent you to the army," he continued, voice laced with disdain. "But instead of becoming an honorable soldier—"
A smirk curled on his lips.
"—you turned out to be a joke."
Lance’s eyes burned with fury. He has had enough.
He darted his hand furiously at the chief. “I will make you regret the day you were born.”
A chilling silence fell over the hall.
Nicholas scoffed, but a flicker of unease crossed his face.
The chief also let out a mocking chuckle.
Lance then turned to Selene, who had been by his side all this while.
“Selene.” His voice was steady, cold. “Summon the Elite Guard.”
Selene didn’t hesitate, she was tired of seeing these fools torture the general's family.
She reached for her phone, her fingers swift as she placed the call.
“Summon the Elite Guard is to be in the district immediately,” she ordered.
- Writer
