?Chapter 858:


    “You… What the hell did you do to me? Who… Who are you?” His voice trembled with raw fear as he cried out, trembling in rage that had nowhere to go. “What did you do to me?”


    “Nothing too borate. Just a little toxin that keeps you constantly on edge, heightens your senses, and makes every ounce of pain feel like hellfire,” Christina replied with a wicked smirk, wiping her blood-slick dagger clean against his face. “I am the Deathbringer, yes. But I have another name, too.”


    Drenched in icy sweat, Balfour croaked with a shaking voice, “Wh… What name?”


    “Noxin. Master of poisons,” she whispered, her voice soft, yet chilling.


    As he stared into those smiling eyes, he was struck with the unmistakable certainty—she was utterly deranged. A full-blown maniac. Had he known he’d be crossing paths with someone like this, he never would’vemitted those vile acts. But regrets were useless now. What was done was done.


    Noxin… That name alone sent shivers crawling across his skin. Even more feared than the Deathbringer.


    Whispers imed Noxin delighted in tormenting their prey. Even the toughest would be brought to their knees, begging for mercy under Noxin’s hands. Noxin’s mastery of poisons was the stuff of nightmares. Noxin could kill without a trace, leaving no clues behind—the toxins were too advanced for any known test to detect.<fne8dc> This content belongs to find?novel</fne8dc>


    Balfour btedly realized that Christina wasn’t just terrifying. Being the Deathbringer already ced her among the most feared in the world. But Noxin? With that identityyered atop? She had the power to set the world aze.


    A crushing wave of despair crashed over Balfour. The depth of his fear couldn’t even be put into words. His face turned ghostly pale as realization dawned—what he had endured was only a fraction of what Noxin was capable of.


    “Please… Please let me die… Just kill me already… I’m begging you…” Balfour sobbed shamelessly, tears pouring down his bloodstained face as he pleaded for a quick death. He couldn’t even imagine what fresh horrors still awaited him. He bawled like a child, snot bubbling at his nose, shaking and broken. For the first time in his life, death hadn’t scared him.


    ?????????????? ????????????? ???????? ???????????????? ???? ?????????ν??????．??????


    As his cries subsided into hoarse whimpers, his gaze shifted toward the corpse of the mercenary leader lying nearby, eyes lifeless and at peace.


    Envy twisted in Balfour’s gut. He used to fear death. Now he coveted it. He wished he’d neverid a finger on Davina. But there was no taking it back.


    Christina’s lips curved slightly, her brows arching in mocking delight. “Scared, are we?” she asked with a low, taunting chuckle.


    Then, her smirk dropped. Her expression hardened into something merciless. “It’s toote for that!”


    And with those words, she plunged the gleaming dagger into his abdomen, burying it deep. “You want to die? Dream on!”


    The pain hit him like lightning, searing straight through to the bone. The veins on his forehead bulged as if they’d rip through his skull. Agony! Blistering, soul-shredding agony! This woman was a monster in human skin—worse than any demon he could’ve imagined.


    Balfour cursed the moment he’d decided to kidnap Davina. He was being torn apart from the inside out, tortured to the edge of death, and then dragged back just to suffer more. The sensation was unbearable—like being carved up, piece by piece, while still alive. It was like being fed to a wild beast, one slow bite at a time.


    .


    .


    .