?Chapter 1228:


    Rhys… As Harlee watched him stride away, her breath hitched. Leaning on the rocks for support, she willed herself to stand, her gaze tracking his every movement. Was the old Rhys back?


    On the battlefield, Rhys moved with the unstoppable force of a storm. Precisely, he eliminated each opponent in his path as he made his way toward Matteo, each step deliberate and fierce, like an avenger.


    Matteo, repeatedly struck by Rhys’ gunfire, fell back behind hisst few guards, his heart sinking as Rhys approached.


    Though it was the same Rhys who had been firing just moments before, something about him now seemed profoundly changed.


    His panic deepening, Matteo hurriedly pushed two of his guards ahead as human barriers.


    One after another, Matteo’s guards dropped, their bodies umting on the crimson-stained earth.


    Rhys spared them no nce. His cold, steadfast stare was locked on Matteo.


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    When his ammunition was exhausted, Rhys grabbed a rifle from a downed enemy. When that rifle ran dry, he switched to his dagger to secure another weapon. This relentless cycle persisted until no one stood with Matteo.


    Realizing the destion around him, Matteo’s eyes widened in frantic disbelief. All his men were defeated. He had had so many. How could Harlee and Rhys have ovee them all? No. It couldn’t be…


    Rhys now towered over Matteo, looking down with sheer contempt. Matteo’s body stiffened as if turned to stone, swiftly followed by excruciating pain in his throat.


    Matteo managed just a gasp before Rhys twisted his jaw out of ce.


    “You don’t deserve to speak.” Rhys plucked a cigarette from Matteo’s pocket, lit it effortlessly, and blew a cloud of smoke into Matteo’s face.


    Matteo choked, his efforts to cough hindered by his dislocated jaw.


    “Thinking of killing me?” Rhys’ voice was cold, chilling to the bone. Leaning close to Matteo’s ear, he murmured, “Contemte that in hell.” With a fierce look in his eyes, Rhys mmed Matteo’s head backward and pressed the burning cigarette into his nose.


    Matteo let out a scream of agony, his voice rough and guttural, as he thrashed on the ground like a madman. The vengeful gleam in his eyes was gone, reced by pure, unyielding terror.


    Matteo repeatedly tried to scream, “Ah… ah…” but could not form coherent words. Ever since Rhys had dislocated his jaw, Matteo had lost the ability to articte his pain.


    “My Rhys is truly back,” Harlee muttered from a distance, filled withplex emotions as she watched. The man she had yearned for was finally here, igniting a powerful surge of feelings within her.


    “How dare you harm someone I care about? How many times did you stab her?” Rhys’ voice was steady, almost detached, as he picked up a dagger. His slender fingers gripped the handle tightly. Without waiting for a response, he plunged the de into Matteo’s side. “Once? Hmm?”


    “Ah!” Matteo’s screams were sharp and desperate.


    Rhys looked on emotionlessly, regarding Matteo as if he were merely an object. “Or was it twice?”


    Rhys stabbed again.


    Matteo was powerless to resist. Each jab was precise, purposely avoiding vital organs to inflict severe pain but not a quick end.


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