《Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby》


 Chapter 1: Tragedy

    <h4>Chapter 1 - Tragedy</h4>


    A sharp gasp tore through Eleanor Whitmore''s throat as she jolted awake, her body wracked with pain.


    "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Leave me alone!" Her voice rang out into the oppressive darkness, her words swallowed by the void. No response came... only silence, thick and suffocating.


    Her breathing came in ragged bursts. She tugged at her arms, but resistance bit into her wrists. Rope. The rough fibers scraped against her skin as she twisted. Her legs, too, were bound, rendering herpletely vulnerable. The cold air against her bare skin sent shivers of fear through her already trembling frame.


    Panic wed at her chest. The scent of blood hung in the air, metallic and sickening. A dull, throbbing pain radiated from every inch of her body, like she had been trampled beneath something unrelenting. She swallowed hard, tasting the coppery tang on her tongue.


    Her mind spun, desperately grasping for rity. What happened? How did she get here?


    Despite being the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in the city, she had never harmed anyone. She was never arrogant, disrespectful, or the type to provoke others.


    Then, it hit her like a crashing wave.


    She had left the office early that day to meet her sister at a party. As she stepped out of the elevator into the dimly lit underground parking lot, a shadow loomed behind her. Before she could react, a cloth was pressed against her face.


    She struggled, her heart pounding in terror, but within moments, darkness consumed her.


    A sob bubbled up in her throat, but she forced it down. Now was not the time to break. She had to think. She had to get out. Her fingers twitched against the bindings, searching for any weakness in the knots.


    Sweat trickled down her forehead. She had to focus. If she panicked, she would lose the small reserves of strength she had left. Her body was weak, hunger gnawed at her stomach, throat burned with thirst, exhaustion pulling at her limbs, but she refused to let it win.


    "I have to get out of here," she whispered to herself, voice hoarse and barely audible. Her breathing grew steady as she tried again, twisting her wrists, searching for ck in the knots. The fibers rubbed against raw skin, sending sharp stings through her nerves.


    She clenched her jaw. Pain meant she was still alive. Pain meant she could still fight.


    Her vision swam, her strength waning, but she kept pulling. Hours could have passed... or maybe only minutes. She didn''t know. Her body threatened to shut down. But she couldn''t afford to give in.


    She let her head fall against the cold ground, breathing heavily. Her fingers ached, but the rope had loosened... just a little. It wasn''t enough.


    Not yet.


    Darkness crept at the edges of her vision, her body betraying her. She fought to stay awake, to keep trying, but her strength failed her. Her breathing slowed, her mind clouded, and before she could fight it, she slipped into unconsciousness once again.


    ***


    "Who is this patient? Why are police guarding this area?" asked a female voice.


    "Didn''t you read the news? Eleanor Whitmore. Second daughter of William Whitmore. She was kidnapped and raped. Police found her after two days in an abandoned factory in the suburbs," replied another.


    The first voice gasped. "Oh! Now I remember. I read she was admitted to our hospital. I was off duty, I just joined today. Hey... poor child. Kidnapped from her own family''s building, raped in their own warehouse. Did you check social media? Everybody is saying that it is an act of revenge. Someone from the family must be in cahoots with the culprits. Otherwise, how could the chairman''s daughter be kidnapped from his ownpany despite having several security guards?"


    The second voice sighed. "I read today''s news. Police identified three culprits out of five. But they all went abroad after the incident. I also think something is fishy here. The three faces police published all look poor. How could they afford to flee abroad? Someone must have paid a big amount of money to cover this up."


    "I heard she was a kind and smart woman. Everybody in the office loved her. She was a brilliant student and loved by her ssmates. Why would someone target her this way?"


    "Who knows... Rich families have a lot of internal problems. We couldn''t guess their life from our position. Okay. Now, we have to give her two injections. The doctor will visit in the afternoon."


    "Wait. The patient''s fingers are moving, her eyshes too. Call the doctor immediately!"


    Eleanor heard hurried footsteps. After some time, several more footsteps approached. Someone tried to force open her eyelids. Her vision was blurry, but she saw the outline of a man standing in front of her.


    "Eleanor Whitmore. Can you hear me?" the man asked, moving his hand in front of her face.


    Eleanor tried to answer, but no sound came out of her mouth... only her lips trembled slightly.


    The man turned to the others. "The patient is regaining consciousness. She may be able to speak in two hours. I''m changing the medication. Keep the police and family updated."


    Then, they all left the room, leaving only the duty nurse behind. After what felt like an eternity, Eleanor could finally move her head and saw a nurse sitting on a chair, ying with her mobile phone. She felt an unbearable thirst and tried hard to whisper, "Water."


    The nurse looked up, startled, and quickly helped her drink some water. Even sipping felt exhausting. After ensuring she was stable, the nurse hurried out to call the doctor.


    Soon, the doctor arrived, checking her vitals and taking some blood samples. As soon as he left, her family entered the room... her father, stepmother, and stepsister. Seeing them brought a sliver offort. Although her father was often distant, her stepmother and sister had always been kind to her.


    Before she could know about her situation, two policemen entered the room, ready to question her.


    "Please, officers. Be kind to my sister. She just regained consciousness from a major trauma. She will cooperate with you once she feels better. If you need information, you can speak with ourwyers... they are waiting outside," Jennifer, her stepsister, said in a firm tone, blocking them from getting too close to Eleanor.


    The officers exchanged nces and left, avoiding further conflict.


    Her family reassured her that everything was okay. She was in the best hospital in the city. There was no need to worry; they would handle everything from here.


    Her sister repeatedly urged her not to dwell on what had happened. They would do everything in their power to ensure justice.


    The next day, the familywyers visited to discuss her statement. They pointed out several legal angles and suggested a modified version that would protect both Eleanor and the family. When the police returned for her statement, she followed their advice carefully.


    After seven days in the hospital, Eleanor was finally discharged. As she was wheeled out, a swarm of journalists awaited her at the entrance, cameras shing, voices moring with intrusive questions. Luckily, her family and hospital security shielded her from the chaos and ushered her into the car.


    Returning home to the Whitmore estate brought no sce. The moment she stepped inside, exhaustion weighed heavily on her. Her phone, which the police had recovered from the crime scene, was ced beside her on the bed. She hesitated before picking it up.


    As expected, her name dominated the headlines.


    Feeling overwhelmed, she called the one person she needed to hear from¡ªher fianc¨¦, James Clifford, the fourth son of the influential Clifford family.


    He answered almost immediately. "Don''t worry, my love. I know everything. I''m currently abroad handling a family business matter, but I''ll be back as soon as the project is finished. Just rest and recover."


    His voice, warm and reassuring, filled the empty spaces in her heart. Eleanor closed her eyes, letting the sweetness of his words soothe her frayed nerves. For now, that was enough.

 Chapter 2: Defiance

    <h4>Chapter 2 - Defiance</h4>


    Almost two months had passed since the incident. During this time, Eleanor had not stepped outside the house. She spent most of her days locked away in her room, avoiding the hushed whispers of the household staff whenever they caught sight of her. Their stolen nces and murmured gossip felt like invisible daggers, piercing her already shattered spirit.


    Her family, though busy with their own affairs, checked on her from time to time. James, her fianc¨¦, called her almost every day, his voice the only familiarfort in the silence that surrounded her.


    That afternoon, as the maid ced a salmon sd before her, an unexpected wave of nausea crashed over her. The smell alone was unbearable. She barely made it to the sink before she vomited, her body trembling as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Weakened and drained, she staggered back to her room without touching her food.


    An hourter, her stepmother, Jeanne, insisted on taking her to the hospital for a check-up. Eleanor wasn''t particrly worried; aside from the asional nausea, she felt mostly fine. Just a lingering difort, an odd aversion to certain smells.


    But when the doctor handed her the report, the weight of the world copsed upon her. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the cold floor, her hands clutching the paper with trembling fingers.


    She was pregnant.


    Her mind reeled, her breathing in short, shallow gasps. No. No, this couldn''t be happening. She wanted to scream, to tear the results apart as if that would erase the truth. Her stepmother, to her surprise, caught her before she could hit the ground and guided her back home without a word.


    Once inside, Eleanor locked herself in her room, curling into a ball on her bed. Tears streamed down her face, silent sobs shaking her frame. She was lost. Alone. Trapped in a nightmare that refused to end.


    Then, her phone rang. It was James.


    She picked up on the first ring, his familiar voice flooding through the speaker¡ªbut it wasn''t the warm, reassuring tone she had hoped for.


    "Why did you hide it from me?" His voice was sharp,ced with anger. "How could you be so careless? Pregnant with some wild man''s child?"


    Her blood turned to ice. "How did you know?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    James scoffed. "How did I know? You''re all over the news, Eleanor. I thought, maybe, after what happened, I could convince my family to ept you. But now?" His voice cracked with disdain. "There is no us. We''re done. Don''t call me again."


    The call ended with a sharp beep.


    Eleanor stared at her screen, disbelief paralyzing her. She dialed his number again. Again. And again. Each time, the line was dead.


    Herst tether to normalcy had snapped.


    She curled up in the darkest corner of her room and sobbed until her throat ached and her body felt hollow. Her stepmother knocked, calling her for dinner, but she ignored it. The world outside her door no longer felt real. Hunger gnawed at her, but the pain in her heart outweighed it.


    **


    Late into the night, unable to bear the emptiness any longer, she decided to sneak downstairs for something to eat. Moving quietly, she stepped out of her room, her bare feet cool against the wooden floor.


    But just as she reached the staircase, a familiar voice made her freeze. "James!"


    She barely breathed as she turned her head towards her father''s study. Though faint, she would never mistake his voice. Ten years together... she knew it better than her own.


    A hopeful thought flickered in her mind. "Maybe he hade back, regretted his words, wanted to see her."


    But as she took a few steps forward, her world cracked apart.


    "You did well, James," came Jeanne''s voice. "She believes you''re still abroad while you''re actively helping us. As expected of my nephew. Now, we just have to kill her, and you can marry Jennifer without any obstacles."


    Eleanor''s heart stopped.


    "Don''t be hasty," her father''s voice cut in. "So far, everything has gone ording to n. We can''t make a mistake at this final stage. We have to make it look like a suicide. Kidnapped, raped, and now pregnant... the perfect reason to take her own life."


    Jenniferughed darkly. "I wanted to kill that bitch long ago. Do you know how exhausting it was to pretend to be a sweet sister?"


    Eleanor mped a hand over her mouth, her breath shaking.


    "You think it was easy for me?" her father continued. "Her mother left everything to her. If she had died before twenty, her inheritance would have gone to the church. I had to wait. But once she turned twenty, I tricked her into signing everything over. She thought she was just filling outpany paperwork. Now, if she dies, as her mother''s legal husband, I inherit it all."


    "Dad, enough history," Jennifer snapped. "We need to discuss how to kill her."


    "I n to serve her fish tomorrow," Jeanne said. "She already can''t stomach it. If she weakens further and James ignores her calls, she''ll lock herself in her room again. Tomorrow night, we''ll enter, bind her with soft cloth to avoid bruises, and cut her wrists. It will look like a suicide."


    Eleanor''s body trembled violently.


    James scoffed. "There are too many loopholes. What about the maids..."


    Eleanor didn''t wait to hear the rest. Drenched in cold sweat, she turned and fled back to her room, locking the door behind her. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared they would hear it.


    She had to escape.


    Her mind spun, calcting her next move. She needed to leave the house. No... she needed to leave the city. Anywhere within their influence would be a death trap.


    She dressed quickly,yering her old university outfit beneath a sports tracksuit. Her pockets bulged with whatever cash and jewelry she could gather. It wasn''t much, but it had to be enough.


    As the first light of dawn painted the sky, she stepped out of her room, forcing herself to breathe steadily. This had to look normal.


    She reached the front gate, her steps calm, measured.


    "Morning jog, Young Miss?" a guard asked, barely looking up.


    She nodded, a small smile barely curving her lips. The guards, ustomed to her routine, opened the gate without question.


    Eleanor walked through without looking back.


    Eleanor jogged toward the park, her pace steady, her expression neutral, as if nothing had changed. She kept her breathing even, forcing her body into the familiar rhythm of her pretense.


    She reached the main entrance of the park and slipped inside, weaving through the paths with practiced ease. The air was crisp, carrying the fresh scent of early spring, and a few other joggers moved along the path, lost in their own routines. But she wasn''t here for exercise. Her real destinationy beyond. She turned toward a lesser-used side exit; one she knew led to a road connecting to the highway. This areacked security cameras, making it the perfect escape route.


    Moving quickly, she ducked into an alley beside a row of trees and stripped off her sports tracksuit, stuffing it deep into a public trash bin. She pulled a hat low over her forehead and wrapped a muffler securely around the lower half of her face. The disguise wasn''t perfect, but it would obscure her from the security cameras she would inevitably face ahead.


    Gathering her resolve, she walked onto the main road, her strides steady, confident. She stood at the bus stop, alone. The cold bit at her skin, but she weed it. At least it exined why her face was bundled up.


    When the first bus arrived, she boarded without hesitation, sinking into a seat near the back. The bus was almost empty at this time of the day. No one gave her a second nce. She sat near a window, watching the city blur past. Every stop, every turn, every second felt like an eternity.


    Eight stops... Ten stops... She exited as the city limits disappeared behind her. It was time to change direction. Her mind filled with anticipation. She could see the freedom within her reach.

 Chapter 3: Fate

    <h4>Chapter 3 - Fate</h4>


    Stepping off the bus, Eleanor surveyed her surroundings. The highway stretched ahead; she looked at the security cameras positioned near the zebra crossings. If she followed the designated path, there was a risk her image would be captured. Something she couldn''t afford now.


    Instead, she deviated further down the road, away from the crossing, her footsteps quick but careful. She nced left, then right. The road was empty.


    She stepped onto the asphalt, her heartbeat elerating with every step. The cold wind nipped at her exposed skin, but she barely noticed. She was so close, just a few more feet, and she''d hurried to cross the road.


    Then she heard it. A deafening roar. The aggressive growl of a high-performance engine shattered the silence, reverberating in her ears.


    Her head snapped toward the sound just as the shiny frame of a sports car came dashing toward her, headlights ring like twin suns in the dim light.


    Panic surged through her veins, and she bolted. But her body, weakened from exhaustion and hunger, failed her. Her foot caught on a loose stone, and before she could recover, she stumbled forward.


    Brakes screeched... metal against rubber, the scent of burning tires filling the air. The blinding re of headlights came in front of her.


    Then pain exploded through her body. The world spun in a dizzying blur. Darkness swallowed her whole world.


    **


    A low, rhythmic beeping pulled Eleanor from the void of unconsciousness. Her eyelids fluttered, the dim glow of fluorescent light stabbing through the haze. A dull throbbing coursed through her body; her limbs heavy as stone.


    As her vision slightly adjusted, her gazended on a bizarre sight... a woman seated nearby, scrolling through a phone. But it wasn''t the woman''s presence that made Eleanor''s breath hitch.


    It was her face.


    Or rather, the animalistic muzzle covered in short, russet fur. Large, pointed ears twitched above her head, sses perched neatly on her narrow snout. A fox''s head on a human body.


    Panic red in Eleanor''s chest. Her sluggish mind barely managed to string together a thought. "Am I in hell? Is this some kind of nightmare?" she thought.


    "What kind of hell is this...? There''s no peace even after death..." she muttered weakly; her voice hoarse. A heavy sigh escaped her lips before unconsciousness imed her again.


    Dr. Selene Raynor, the woman with the foxlike features, turned her head as Eleanor''s faint words reached her sensitive ears. Her golden eyes narrowed with mild amusement.


    "She''s awake," she murmured to herself, setting her phone aside. Rising from her chair, she moved to the bedside, checking the young woman''s vitals with practiced efficiency. Satisfied, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.


    "Ethan,e to the infirmary," she instructed. "She regained consciousness."


    A deep male voice responded immediately, "I''ll be there in two minutes."


    True to his word, Ethan Raynor arrived swiftly, his gazending on the unconscious form of Eleanor Whitmore. His brow furrowed.


    "She passed out again?" he asked.


    Selene nodded. "Yes, but not from her injuries. I believe she saw me in my wolf form and couldn''t handle the shock."


    Ethan let out a low sigh. "That... makes sense."


    "Don''t worry," Selene reassured him. "She''ll wake up soon. When she does, you''ll need to exin everything to her. She has a choice to make, and I can dy it only until tomorrow."


    She hesitated, then asked, "Did you erase all security footage?"


    Ethan gave a curt nod. "Yes. From the park to here, there''s no trace of her escape. If I hadn''t recognized her clothes, tracking her would''ve been difficult."


    Selene exhaled slowly. "It seems she was running away from something. She hasn''t eaten properly in at least two or three days. She had cash and jewelry on her, but no phone or personal device. That tells me she left her home for good."


    Ethan''s jaw tightened. "I figured as much. That''s why I made sure the police wouldn''t be able to trace her. I also asked Uncle Xavier to remove her scent from key locations so that the tracking dogs won''t pick up her trail."


    Selene smiled, nodding in approval. "Nicely done." Then, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she added, "Now, it''s your time to shine. Help her through this, and who knows..." She winked. "You''ve liked her for a long time, haven''t you?"


    Ethan turned bright red. "Mom! Seriously, just go. I''ll handle this."


    Chuckling, Selene left the room, leaving Ethan alone with Eleanor.


    He pulled a chair beside the bed, his gaze softening as he looked at her pale face. His mind drifted back to the first day of university... the day he met Eleanor Whitmore.


    He had fallen for her at first sight.


    He had pursued a friendship with her, but it wasn''t long before he learned that she already had a boyfriend from high school. Though heartbroken, he had never let his feelings ruin their friendship.


    Even after graduation, he kept tabs on her. He knew of her recent struggles. He wanted to help her but never dared to interfere... until now. Fate had thrown her into his path, quite literally. And he wasn''t going to walk away this time.


    A small groan broke the silence. Eleanor''s eyelids fluttered before slowly opening, her gaze unfocused at first. Then she saw him¡ªthe same ck suit he had worn since the first day of her university life. Always impably dressed, with polished Oxford shoes.


    He was taller than most of his peers, with a face that captured the hearts of every girl on campus. Many had approached him, but he politely turned them down, always saying he believed in traditional marriage and that anyone interested should contact his parents. Though he rarely smiled, everyone knew he had a kind heart. He helped others to the best of his ability.


    "Ethan? ... No. Why would you be here?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Am I... dreaming?"


    He leaned forward. "No, you''re awake. You''re safe."


    Her body rxed slightly. "Good..." But then something clicked in her mind, and she stiffened. "Wait. How long was I unconscious? Why are you at the hospital?" She tried to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate.


    "Don''t push yourself," Ethan said quickly. "You were out for two hours. I know you were trying to escape your home, so I took precautions. No one will find you here. You can stay as long as you need."


    A sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Thank you... I need time to figure things out." Her eyes flickered with uncertainty. "Where am I?"


    "My house," Ethan replied. "My mother treated you."


    She blinked. "Your mother?" A vivid image of the fox-headed woman shed through her mind. Her breath hitched.


    Ethan hesitated before saying, "You probably saw her in her original form. My mother is Dr. Selene Raynor. You might''ve heard of her... she''s a renowned physician."


    "Original form?" Eleanor repeated.


    Ethan met her gaze. "We''re werewolves, Eleanor."


    She stared at him, mouth slightly open.


    "You already know my father, Professor Adrian Raynor. We live among humans, but due to ancientws, we had to hide our true nature."


    Eleanor swallowed hard. "You''re telling me... werewolves are real?"


    "Yes. And right now, there''s something more important to discuss." His expression grew serious. "My mother found out that your baby is severely malnourished. And due to the shock of the ident, you''ll go into prematurebor within the next 24 hours."


    She felt the blood drain from her face.


    Ethan continued, "You have two choices. One is to let the baby go. You''ll recover in a month with normal medication. It''s the safest option.


    "The other is to keep the baby. But to do that, you''ll have to let go of your human side. A werewolf alpha must turn the child for it to survive. That alpha will be the baby''s new father. And since your human body won''t survive giving birth to a werewolf child, you''ll have to turn as well."


    He took a deep breath. "I''m willing to take responsibility if you choose the second option."


    Eleanor felt her world tilt.


    "I won''t pressure you to do anything you don''t like," Ethan added softly. "Whatever you decide, I''ll support you unconditionally. Just make it quick." With that, he stood and left the room, closing the door behind him. Leaving Eleanor alone with a choice that would change her life forever.

 Chapter 4: Choice

    <h4>Chapter 4 - Choice</h4>


    Eleanor''s mind raced at full speed. A constant beeping sound echoed in her ears, a steady rhythm that felt oddly distant. The faint scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils, but she was in no mood to acknowledge these minor details.


    "What should I do?" she thought, her heart pounding. "This baby... it''s theirs. Those bastards. It would be best to erase this stain from my life."


    But then, a different thought surfaced, one that made her stomach twist in conflict. "Life... This baby is still alive."


    It wasn''t just a reminder; it was a truth that struck her deeply. "Although it came to me in a way I never wanted, it is still mine. My baby."


    She recalled Ethan''s words. If she chose to be a werewolf, she could alter the baby''s lineage. She could give it a new father... one that was not tied to the horrors of her past. Wouldn''t it be better to change the baby''s father instead of killing it?


    But then, another question arose. "Who would be the father? Ethan?" Her heart wavered at the thought.


    "And what will happen if I be a werewolf?" The possibilities churned in her mind. "Would I be able to live like a human if I wanted?" She had never suspected Ethan was a werewolf until now. "If he could hide it so well, then maybe I could too."


    Still, doubt lingered. "What are the downsides? If I let go of my humanity, what kind of life will I have?" Her mind wandered aimlessly until exhaustion pulled her into sleep.


    In the darkness of her dreams, a soft voice called out. "Mom! Don''t leave me! I want to be with you. Please, Mom! I promise I''ll be good."


    Eleanor''s breath hitched as she saw a small child clinging desperately to her leg. Its tiny fingers grasped her as though she were his only lifeline. She tried to see his face, but the child kept his head lowered. A sense of loss and sorrow weighed heavy on her chest.


    She reached out. "Who... Who are you?" Before she could touch him, everything faded.


    Eleanor jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat. Her chest heaved as she tried to steady her breath, but the panic from the dream lingered. The steady beeping from the heart monitor had quickened.


    The door burst open, and Ethan rushed in. "What happened?" he asked urgently, his sharp eyes scanning her distressed form.


    Eleanor''s hospital gown clung to her damp skin as if someone had poured water over her. She met Ethan''s concerned gaze, unable to find the right words. Finally, he spoke softly, "Rx. I''m here. You''re safe."


    For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, a silent conversation passing between them. Then, breaking the silence, Eleanor voiced the question that had been weighing on her mind since their earlier conversation.


    "If I be a werewolf," she asked carefully, "do I have to marry the one who turns me and my baby?"


    Ethan immediately shook his head. "No, don''t worry. You don''t need to marry anyone. You''ll be part of the pack, but that''s it. You will need to follow the pack''s rules and our ancient traditions, but nothing more. It''s not as difficult as it might seem."


    She hesitated before asking, "Is there an option to choose the father of my child?"


    Ethan was momentarily taken aback by her question, but he answered nheless. "For you, there is no other option but me. In our family, only my father and I have the ability to perform the blood ritual. I don''t want to sound selfish, but I don''t want your child to be my brother."


    Eleanor let out a weakugh. "Sorry, that was a poorly worded question. Right now, I''m not ready to ept any kind of rtionship after what happened to me. I just wanted to make things clear. You are one of my best friends, and I don''t want to cause trouble for you. If you decide to get married in the future, having me and my child in your life might be a problem."


    Ethan sighed and shook his head. "You''re overthinking. Werewolf customs are different from human ones. I will be your child''s father in name, but nothing more. And although you will be under my lineage as your turner, I promise I will never impose my will on you. That''s a promise as your friend."


    Eleanor studied his expression, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. She took a deep breath before making her decision.


    "Then... I want to save my baby."


    Ethan gave her a reassuring smile. "Then that''s all that matters. And don''t worry about my future. Right now, the priority is you and your child. Let me call my mom. She will make sure everything goes smoothly."


    A few minutester, the door opened, and Dr. Selene Raynor entered. Her golden eyes studied Eleanor with quiet intensity.


    "Hello, Eleanor," she greeted warmly. "It''s nice to finally meet you properly. Since you''ve made your decision, we must act quickly. Although I''ve done my best to stabilize your pregnancy, your body is too weak. We must proceed before it''s toote."


    Selene hesitated before asking, "I need to hear it onest time. Are you absolutely certain? The blood ritual will change your very core. You will cease to be human. There is no going back."


    Eleanor exhaled slowly before nodding. "I am certain."


    Selene studied her for a moment before nodding. "Then let''s proceed. I suggest you remain unconscious from the beginning. The transformation is incredibly painful. Your body will break and reshape itself to amodate the werewolf blood. Given your current condition, you will likely lose consciousness anyway. Would you prefer to be put under beforehand?"


    Eleanor shook her head. "No. I want to experience the change. I need to remember this moment."


    Selene''s expression softened. "Then brace yourself."


    She walked over to the bed and carefully strapped Eleanor''s hands and feet with soft leather restraints. They were designed to prevent injury during the transformation.


    Then, Selene turned to her son. "Ethan, you understand what this means? This is not just about saving her child. She and her baby will be bound to you and the pack. There is no undoing this."


    Ethan met his mother''s gaze with unwavering determination. "I understand."


    Selene nodded. "Then begin the ritual. You know what to do. Bite her shoulder... above her heart. Follow the blood oath procedure carefully."


    Ethan stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Eleanor''s.


    "Are you ready?" he asked softly.


    Eleanor clenched her fists, inhaling deeply. "Do it."


    Leaning down, Ethan pressed his lips against her mmy skin for a fleeting moment before sinking his fangs into the tender flesh just above her corbone. The taste of her blood flooded his mouth... bitter with pain, yet carrying the essence of life. As his fangs pierced deeper, Alpha blood seeped into her system, merging with her human essence.


    Eleanor''s body convulsed violently. A searing fire coursed through her veins, burning her from the inside out. Every cell in her body shattered, reformed, then shattered again.


    A strangled cry tore from her lips, but the overwhelming pain soon dragged her into unconsciousness.

 Chapter 5: Life

    <h4>Chapter 5 - Life</h4>


    Eleanor woke up in a daze. She couldn''t see clearly; it was like a hazy world. Her ears twitched slightly as sharp beeping sounds entered her awareness. Footsteps came and went nearby, and someone was talking in the distance, though she couldn''t make out the words. The thick smell of antiseptic numbed her senses. She blinked several times, trying to adjust her vision, and gradually, the room around her became clearer. She was still in the ce Ethan called ''the infirmary''.


    She tried to sit up but failed. Her hands and feet were still strapped to the bed.


    Sensing her movement, Ethan stood up from his chair and walked toward her. "Good morning, Eleanor. How do you feel?"


    Without thinking, she replied automatically, "Nauseous. The thick antiseptic smell is overwhelming."


    She suddenly stopped as her mind caught up with her situation. She turned to Ethan, her voice tense with anticipation. "Ethan, was the process sessful?"


    Ethan gave her a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry. Everything went well. You and your baby are both fine and healthy. My mother checked both of you and found noplications."


    Eleanor nced down at herself. "Then why am I still bound?"


    Ethan''s expression grew serious. "First, look at your body. You''re in your werewolf form now. Your body needs time to adjust. Your senses should be sharper, your body stronger, and your instincts more primal. Newly turned werewolves often experience uncontroble urges... intense hunger, aggression, and heightened emotions. That''s why you''re still bound, to prevent any idental harm. Once you adjust, we''ll remove the restraints."


    Eleanor focused on her senses. Her hearing had improved significantly... she could hear both her and Ethan''s heartbeats clearly. She looked at the ceiling and noticed tiny gaps in the paint she had never seen before. A strange surge of energy coursed through her veins, making her feel powerful, almost as if she were on an intoxicating drug.


    After taking a moment to assess herself, she asked, "Then how can I get used to my new body if I''m tied up like this?"


    "My mother already called my grandmother. She''s an expert in training young werewolves. She''ll arrive this afternoon. With her guidance, you''ll learn how to control your abilities and move normally. She''ll evaluate your potential and train you for a few days." Ethan said.


    Eleanor hesitated before asking, "And my child?"


    Ethan nodded reassuringly. "The child is safe, now infused with werewolf vitality. However, your pregnancy might progress faster than a human''s, as werewolves have elerated growth rates."


    She absorbed the information silently, her mind still reeling from the drastic changes. Then, almost shyly, she admitted, "I''m hungry."


    That afternoon, a middle-aged woman in an elegant executive dress entered the room. Eleanor was fast asleep, her body still bound. The woman sat in the chair beside her and studied her intently. After a moment, she pulled out her phone and made a call.


    "You still haven''t sent me the detailed report on Eleanor Whitmore."


    "How much more time do you need?"


    "Fifteen minutes is the final deadline."


    Ten minutester, her phone vibrated. She opened the newly received folder and silently scrolled through the information. As she read, a faint smirk formed on her otherwise cold, expressionless face.


    "Such raw talent," she murmured. "Let''s see how you perform under pressure. I hope you don''t disappoint me like the others."


    She looked at the sleeping woman, her gaze piercing. Then, in a firm voice, shemanded, "Wake up, Eleanor. It''s time for your training."


    Eleanor, deep in sleep after filling her belly with arge meal, jolted awake. In her groggy state, she saw a striking woman sitting across from her with an air of absolute authority. She had the poised posture of a corporate leader, dressed impably as if she had just stepped out of a business meeting. Two wolf ears stood alert on her head, making her presence even more intimidating.


    Seeing the woman''s unwavering gaze, Eleanor swallowed and hesitantly greeted, "Hello."


    The woman stood and walked toward her. "Eleanor Whitmore, wee to the family. I am Fiona Raynor, Matriarch of the Raynor pack. Here, I am both thew and the executioner. Your only job is to obey mymands until I say otherwise. Do you understand?"


    Eleanor''s mouth went dry, and she almost choked on her own breath. Ethan had mentioned his grandmother would be training her, but he hadn''t warned her about this level of intensity.


    "I... I understand," Eleanor stammered.


    Fiona nodded in approval. "Good. Now, follow me."


    She turned toward the door but stopped, remembering the restraints. Without hesitation, she moved back and undid the bindings, setting Eleanor free before striding out of the room with the samemanding presence.


    Eleanor hurriedly sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. As she tried to stand, she realized her body was still in its wolf-like state, making bnce difficult. It took her a few tries before she managed to stand on two legs.


    "Good," Fiona observed. "Walk slowly. You''ll adjust in no time."


    Just as Eleanor was about to step out of the room, Fiona added, "Change your clothes. I left an outfit on the table."


    Eleanor looked toward the table and found a neatly folded ck outfit. She picked it up and examined the material... it seemed too small for her current form. Still, she decided to try it on. To her surprise, the fabric expanded as she wore it, fitting her body perfectly like a second skin. A pair of boots rested beside the table, and she quickly slipped them on before following Fiona out of the room.


    Fiona gave her an appraising look. "Better." Without another word, she led Eleanor toward the stairs.


    As they descended, Eleanor spotted Professor Adrian Raynor sitting on a couch, working on aptop. When he noticed her, he smiled warmly.


    "Good afternoon, Eleanor. Long time, no see."


    Eleanor responded politely, "Good afternoon, Sir. It''s nice to see you again."


    Fiona was already at the door, so Eleanor didn''t linger, quickly following her outside.


    As soon as she stepped out, she was greeted by the sight of lush greenery. A breathtaking forest surrounded them, stretching as far as the eye could see. A narrow road led up to the house, where several cars were parked, but beyond that, there were only towering trees and the sounds of nature. The sight filled Eleanor with an unexpected sense of peace. It was nothing like the urban world she was used to... it felt primal, untamed, and strangely... weing.


    Her lips curled into a small smile. She liked it here.

 Chapter 6: Elizabeth

    <h4>Chapter 6 - Elizabeth</h4>


    More than an hour had passed, and Eleanor''s training under Fiona was still ongoing. Although she didn''t feel physically exhausted, her mental state was a different story... she waspletely drained.


    During this time, under Fiona''s guidance, she had learned how to move nimbly as a wolf on all fours. She had also learned how to transform into her human form. Although she couldn''t yet perform partial transformations like Fiona, thetter assured her that with enough practice, she would be able to. However, under the guise of training, she had also endured a one-sided beating from Fiona.


    Right now, she was listening to Fiona''s lecture attentively.


    "Every newly turned werewolf immediately gains superhuman strength, speed, endurance, and reflexes. However, because you are carrying a child, your body is bncing these enhancements to protect the fetus. It is also for this reason that you didn''t experience uncontroble aggression in the early stages, unlike other turned werewolves. Your sense of smell, hearing, and vision will be enhanced far beyond human limits. You will be able to hear the faintest heartbeats, track scents over miles, and see clearly in the dark."


    "In normal circumstances, werewolves are emotionally resilient, and transformation grants you the ability to resist fear, mental attacks, and extreme emotional distress. This means that even under stress, your mind will be sharper, your instincts keener, and you will be able to make clearer decisions."


    She paused for a moment before continuing. "Since you were turned through the Alpha''s blood, your presence carries some of his authority. You can calm aggressive werewolves, prevent pack members from turning feral, and even issue low-levelmands to weaker wolves outside the pack."


    Eleanor frowned. "How will I know who is who?"


    Fiona smirked. "You''ll know instinctively. Werewolves are pack beings; we are all connected. Even if someone bes a rogue wolf, without any pack, we can still sense it. You will feel their strength, their position, and their allegiance."


    She then continued, "Now, back to the topic. The Alpha''s blood carries the knowledge of the pack''s ancestralbat techniques. Even if you have never trained as a fighter, your body will react instinctively in battle, knowing how to evade, counter, and defend using automatic reflexes. Your footsteps will be naturally silent, making you an excellent hunter or scout. You should be able to track scents, hear heartbeats, and move undetected, making you a natural protector. Your body will regenerate wounds at an unnatural rate, ensuring that you remain healthy. Even life-threatening injuries, such as those sustained in the ident, will heal quickly."


    She then became serious and said, "As a newly turned werewolf, the moon''s influence will affect you deeply for the first few months. During a full moon, you might struggle with the raw power surging through your body. It will be tough to stabilize your emotions. I strongly suggest you follow the moon cycle, and during full moons, you muste here without fail. If any human finds out about your wolf form, you will be punished under ancientw. If the King''s enforcerse knocking on my door, I will happily sacrifice you to save my pack from embarrassment."


    "I willter give you books on the ancientws. Memorize every point clearly... they will be your guide when you return to human society."


    She paused before adding, "As a new member of my pack, you might not know that we Raynors are the wealthiest werewolf family. Do you know why?"


    Eleanor shook her head. "No."


    Fiona''s eyes glinted with pride. "Unlike ordinary werewolves, our bodies resist silver and wolfsbane poison. We are less vulnerable tomon anti-werewolf weapons. Because of this, we can move freely in human society. Over generations, we have built a vast business empire. But due to ancientws, we cannot publicly disy our wealth in the human world. Just remember this... Bill Gates isn''t even in the top 100 wealthiest individuals in the world."


    Eleanor gasped in shock, her mouth hanging open. Seeing this, Fiona smirked. "You''ve just entered the supernatural world. You''ll learn about all of thister. For now, focus on training."


    She continued, "The Raynor bloodline grantsmon resistance against anti-werewolf weapons, as I mentioned. However, we also possess unique abilities that manifest differently among family members. Some of us have a talent for calctions, negotiations, and long-term nning. Others instinctively understand market trends, trade routes, and economic structures, giving us an advantage in business. Some can sense dishonesty, allowing them to detect liars, cheaters, and bad deals instantly. Others have perfect memory for faces, financial records, and conversations, preventing mistakes in our empire. These abilities prevent business betrayals and help us navigate the world of trade, investments, andmerce."


    She looked at Eleanor with an evaluating gaze. "Unlike normal werewolves who struggle with their transformation, you must master it perfectly. This is a requirement for any Raynor before stepping outside this house. If you can partially transform... adjusting only your ears, eyes, or nose without revealing your wolf form... you will be able to help our family in business. This is your task for the next week. After seven days, I will evaluate your progress. If you perform well, I will grant you permission to return to the human world."


    She then stood up. "Let''s head back. It''s already night."


    Eleanor followed Fiona silently. Once inside the house, they walked to a corner where Fiona pressed a hidden button on the wall. A deep rumbling sound echoed as a concealed door slid open, revealing a staircase leading underground. Lights flickered on as they stepped forward.


    As Eleanor descended, she gasped in awe. In front of hery thergest personal library she had ever seen.


    Fiona turned to her. "This will be the ce you spend most of your time. From my examination, you have awakened an eidetic memory... a trait inherited from our bloodline.


    "I will check your progress in one week. I expect you to finish reading all the books here."


    Eleanor''s jaw dropped. "W-What?"


    Without waiting for a response, Fiona turned and walked back to the ground floor. As Eleanor turned back toward the entrance, she heard a rumbling sound... the door was sealing shut behind her.


    Fiona walked directly to the third floor, stepping into the meeting room. The room was spacious, fitted with arge table surrounded by thirteen chairs. There could have been more if needed.


    She confidently strode to the center chair and sat down. To her right, her eldest son, Professor Adrian Raynor, sat beside her. To her left, eldest son of her brother, Police Commissioner Xavier Raynor, appeared via projection. Her youngest son, Architect Tristan Raynor, and her sister, Psychiatrist Evelyn Raynor, were also present physically. The rest of the council members were attending via holographic projection.


    Fiona spoke, her voicemanding attention. "Thank you all for attending this emergency meeting. As you know, my grandson Ethan Raynor recently turned his friend Eleanor Whitmore. I won''t waste time with details, but I need to report my findings."


    "Eleanor Whitmore is now an Alpha, and I highly suspect that she may have awakened the Elizabeth bloodline. I need to conduct further tests to confirm this, but until then" Her sharp gaze swept across the room. "I, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor, propose the immediate activation of protocol ''Eclipse Veil.''"

 Chapter 7: Bloodline

    <h4>Chapter 7 - Bloodline</h4>


    As Fiona''s proposal settled in, the room fell into a heavy silence. Each participant absorbed the implications of her words, their expressions shifting between shock, surprise, and contemtion. Yet, despite their varied reactions, a faint, almost imperceptible smile lingered on their faces.


    Fiona''s sister, who was currently in Las Vegas managing their casino empire, finally broke the silence. "Big Sis, don''t get our hopes up unless you''re certain. You know we''ve been waiting for another Elizabeth for more than 400 years since you were born."


    Fiona exhaled slowly. "You know me better than that. No one has suffered more than I have because of this. I''ve had to be cautious my entire life. There were so many things I couldn''t do simply because there was no other Elizabeth after me." She paused, then continued, "I''ve already sent a blood sample for resonance testing. We should have the results within the week. But I am highly confident. The connection I felt with her was far stronger than with any of you."


    She hesitated before adding, "However, there is another possibility. The girl was pregnant at the time of her transformation, and the fetus also turned in order to survive. The child could be the Elizabeth, and the mother may simply be resonating strongly because of that connection. Since the fetus is still developing, we may have to wait a few more months to get a definitive answer."


    Xavier, his face unreadable, asked, "Then how long do you propose we keep Protocol Eclipse Veil in ce?"


    "Until the blood resonance results are in. Once we have them, we can reassess." Fiona answered instantly.


    Fiona''s niece, the renowned actress Talia Raynor, sighed. "We already understand the stakes. If there''s nothing else urgent, let''s vote and conclude the meeting. I had to pause filming for this meeting, and my crew is waiting."


    Xavier nodded. "Alright. All in favor of enacting Eclipse Veil, raise your hand."


    All twelve members of the council, each representing one of the twelve Raynor family branches, raised their hands without hesitation.


    Fiona smiled in satisfaction. "Good. Xavier, from now on, we''re relying on you."


    Xavier inclined his head. "Rest assured. My shadow guards will be deployed tonight."


    One by one, the council members disconnected, leaving only Fiona, Adrian, Tristan, and Evelyn in the room. Adrian, Fiona''s eldest son, turned to her. "Mom, this is the first time an outsider has inherited our Elizabeth bloodline. Are you truly okay with that?"


    Fiona''s gaze hardened. "There are no outsiders among us. Once someone is turned, they are bound to us by blood. However, this situation is unique. Ethan has liked this girl for a long time, but now, technically, she is both his daughter and the mother of his child. I know Ethan won''t see her as a daughter, even if she doesn''t end up marrying him. We will have to overlook theplicated rtionships within our pack. But make no mistake, she is one of us now. She will be loyal to the Raynor pack, whether she wants to be or not."


    She took a deep breath. "My real concern is the Leroux family. They have been trying to dismantle our business empire since ancient times. If they catch wind that another Elizabeth has been born into our family, they will try to eliminate her before she matures. Their informants are likely already monitoring our movements. We must keep her existence a secret until she haspleted her training. Make sure she doesn''t step outside until she''s ready. We can''t afford any slip-ups."


    Fiona stood and left the meeting room. The remaining three exchanged nces, then continued discussing various current affairs before parting ways. That night, dozens of shadow guards were deployed around the house, prepared to monitor and protect Eleanor from any potential threats.


    Meanwhile, Eleanor remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around her. She spent her days in the underground library, reading for hours on end, asionally yawning as exhaustion crept in. After each session, she would eat in the dining hall before retreating to the room Ethan had assigned her. Her routine was simple: eat, read, sleep, train. The cycle continued for a full week until Fiona returned to check on her progress.


    By then, Fiona had received the results of the blood resonance test. Eleanor matched at an 89%patibility... slightly lower than Fiona''s own 91% when she was tested in her youth. Since the threshold was 75%, Eleanor would be officially recognized as an Elizabeth once shepleted her training.


    A council meeting was scheduled for that night to determine Eleanor''s future. Though the Raynors were overjoyed by the news, they had to suppress their excitement. The Leroux family''s spies were always watching. They could not afford to show any signs of celebration.


    During her evaluation, Fiona was pleased to find that Eleanor had already read over half the books in the library. It was expected of her, given her eidetic memory, but Eleanor still felt ashamed for failing toplete the task entirely. Fiona smirked internally at Eleanor''s embarrassed expression but maintained a strict demeanor to push her to perform even better.


    After three grueling hours of etiquette training... both in werewolf customs and business protocols... Fiona led Eleanor to the lounge, where a distinguished man awaited them.


    Fiona gestured toward him. "Eleanor, this is Xavier Raynor, the Police Commissioner of Greater Manchester. He is my brother''s eldest son. You may address him as Uncle Xavier. He will instruct you in Raynor Packws, the Ancient Code of Conduct, and basic martial arts."


    Recalling the etiquette Fiona had drilled into her, Eleanor pressed her right palm to her heart and bowed slightly. "Greetings, Uncle Xavier. It is an honor to meet you."


    Xavier stood from the couch and returned the bow. "The honor is mine. Wee to the family."


    Fiona nodded in approval. "Xavier, I leave her in your hands. I have other matters to attend to. And don''t bete for the meeting."


    She turned to Eleanor. "Once you finish your session with Xavier, return to the library and continue reading. Finish all the books as soon as possible. More tasks await you." With that, she ascended the stairs and disappeared from view.


    Xavier spent the next few hours discussing werewolf society''sws and customs with Eleanor. When it was time for the meeting, he handed her two thick ancient tomes detailing thews in full before departing.


    Eleanor dutifully returned to the library, oblivious to the life-altering decisions being made in her absence.


    That night, the council unanimously decided to bestow the Elizabeth name upon her. She would henceforth be known as Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. However, for the sake of secrecy, the title would remain known only to the council members until she was ready to face the supernatural world.


    They also agreed on the next step in her training. She would be sent to the ancestralnds of the Raynor pack, where the elders would refine her abilities.


    Unaware of her impending departure, Eleanor remained immersed in her books, eager toplete her task. She had no idea that her new family was preparing to send her into a grueling, hellish training regime that would determine whether she could truly carry the weight of her new name.

 Chapter 8: Rayndell

    <h4>Chapter 8 - Rayndell</h4>


    Almost three weeks had passed since Eleanor turned into a werewolf. During this time, she stayed at Ethan''s house whilepleting the tasks assigned to her by Fiona and Xavier or being personally trained by them. To her astonishment, she had read thousands of books in their home library in such a short period! Even more surprising was the fact that she could remember every single detail from them.


    The vast amount of knowledge she had umted helped her understand the supernatural world, the werewolf society, and the significant role werewolves yed in the prosperity of human civilization. She now had a clear picture of her current situation, and for the first time, she was truly grateful to Ethan for granting her this gift.


    Although she was no longer human, she had epted her reality and was now focused on how to raise her baby properly. Technically, Ethan was now the baby''s father, but she was determined to raise her child on her own. Having experienced the trauma of a stepfamily, she feared a simr fate for her child. Although Ethan and his family had been nothing but kind to her, she did not want to take any risks. She wanted to give her child the best possible future.


    A change had also urred during this time. Ethan''s parents had informed her that she would now be considered their adoptive daughter, and her surname would be changed to Raynor. She had no objections since she had grown to despise the name Whitmore. As the police were still searching for her, the paperwork would bepleted once things settled down.


    One afternoon, Fiona arrived and handed Eleanor a travel backpack, instructing her to pack for a journey. However, there was little to pack, as she had arrived with only one set of clothes. The outfits she had worn these past weeks were eitherbat attire provided by Fiona or sleeping garments given to her by Selene. She packed everything she had, including money and jewelry. Fiona warned her not to reveal any werewolf features during their journey and to remain in human form, as they would be traveling through human-popted areas.


    After boarding the car with Fiona, Eleanor noticed that a driver was already waiting behind the wheel. The car ridested for nearly half an hour before stopping in front of a luxurious vi. Fiona exited the vehicle and proceeded to board a helicopter that was waiting on the vi''s helipad. Eleanor hesitated for a moment before following her.


    After some time, the helicopternded atop a building. From the aerial view, Eleanor estimated that they were somewhere near the Lake District. Fiona led her downstairs, where another car was waiting for them. They boarded, and after another half-hour journey, the vehicle came to a stop. Fiona and Eleanor got out, and the driver left, leaving them alone in the wilderness.


    Fiona turned to Eleanor and said, "Now, we have to walk the rest of the way. It''s about an hour''s walk, and we should reach our destination before sundown."


    Eleanor was surprised to see that Fiona''s face had softened. Throughout their entire journey, she had worn a stern expression and had barely spoken except to give orders to her subordinates. Eleanor had a hundred questions on her mind butcked the courage to voice them.


    Sensing her usual face, Eleanor finally spoke, "Actually, I wanted to ask... where exactly are we going at this hour? Are we camping in the hills?"


    Fiona chuckled as she started walking. "You''ll see when we get there. We have to move like humans because there might be some trekkers in the area."


    Eleanor quickened her pace to keep up. "Are we near the Lake District?"


    Fiona nodded. "Yes, but we''re heading toward the High Raise area."


    "I''ve never been that way before. There aren''t any hotels in that region," Eleanor remarked.


    "Exactly. Apart from a few adventurers, nobody ventures into these barren hignds," Fiona replied.


    After over an hour of walking along a narrow rocky path, Fiona suddenly stopped while climbing arge hill. She turned to Eleanor and said, "Don''t hesitate. Just follow me."


    Without another word, she stepped forward and vanished.


    Eleanor''s heart nearly leapt out of her chest. Reluctantly, she followed behind.


    The moment she stepped forward, she felt an inexplicable shift in her surroundings. It was as though she had entered another world. The barren, rocky terrain they had just been trekking through was gone. In its ce stood a lush forest, its vibrant greenery stretching endlessly before her. Above, the setting sun cast its warm golden glow through the towering trees, enhancing the surreal beauty of the ce.


    Fiona stood a few steps ahead, smiling at her. "Wee to the ancestralnd of the Raynors... ''Rayndell Forest''. Here, you will experience the full cycle of time as it moves on Earth. But you are no longer on Earth itself. This is a pocket dimension owned by the Raynor pack since ancient times."


    Eleanor had read about pocket dimensions in fantasy novels, but witnessing one with her own eyes left her in disbelief. To confirm that she wasn''t dreaming, she pinched her arm.


    Seeing her awe-struck expression, Fiona continued, "Werewolves are creatures of nature. Yggdrasil, the World Tree of Earth, gifted eleven simr pocket dimensions to the werewolves... one to the royal family and the rest to the ten great families. You''ve read about these families, correct?"


    Eleanor nodded. "Yes, but the books never mentioned pocket dimensions."


    Fiona smirked. "That''s because only those who have the right to enter thesends can know about them. There''s much more to learn. For now, let''s head to the vige and meet the n elders."


    Eleanor hesitated. "Do all the n elders live here?"


    "Most of them do. Some remain outside, traveling the world," Fiona exined. "A werewolf''s average lifespan is nearly 1,000 years. Do you know the problem with living that long?"


    Seeing Eleanor''s nk expression, Fiona chuckled. "Boredom. After five or seven centuries, life among humans bes tedious. Many werewolves seek excitement, but that often leads to destruction. To prevent unnecessary chaos, most of them eventually retreat to the pocket dimensions. Some engage in scientific experiments, others dedicate centuries to crafting legendary fine arts, some create new martial arts, while others meditate in search of inner peace."


    Fiona''s expression turned serious as she continued, "You are here to learn invaluable lessons from our elders. What you choose to study and what they decide to teach you will depend on you. Tonight, under the full moon, the elders will help unlock your bloodline. You will remain here until the next full moon, when your awakening will beplete."


    She then met Eleanor''s gaze and spoke with unwavering authority, "This is your best chance to train yourself and absorb as much knowledge as possible. The skills you acquire here will shape your future among both werewolves and humans."


    With that, she turned toward the vige, and Eleanor followed, her mind racing with anticipation and uncertainty.

 Chapter 9: Bloodawakening

    <h4>Chapter 9 - Bloodawakening</h4>


    "Wee, n Head." An old man with long, silver-white hair greeted Fiona with a bow, following the traditions of the werewolf n. He was dressed in a flowing white robe, resembling a schr from Greek mythology... a sight that immediately reminded Eleanor of characters she had seen in movies.


    Fiona returned the bow and said, "Greetings, Elder Bedivere. I hope you are well."


    Bedivere smiled warmly. "I sensed the ripple at the gate and came to see our guest. I was secretly hoping you had brought a young talent for this year''s Ancestral Moon." His gaze shifted to Eleanor, studying her intently, as if evaluating her worth.


    Fiona turned to Eleanor and introduced him. "Eleanor, this is Elder Bedivere. He is the steward of the ancestralnd. I may be the n Head, but here, he is the true authority."


    Eleanor, still caught off guard by the old man''s uncanny resemnce to an aged knight from Arthurian legends, snapped out of her daze. She quickly ced her palm over her heart and bowed. "Greetings, Elder Bedivere."


    Bedivere chuckled. "Wee to Rayndell, Eleanor. Fiona brought you here on the eve of the Ancestral Moon; that alone speaks volumes about your potential. May our ancestors bless you."


    He turned back to Fiona. "Follow me. Some of the elders havee out of seclusion. They are in the courtyard."


    Eleanor followed Fiona and Bedivere through the winding paths of the ancestralnd until they reached a vast courtyard, surrounded by wooden houses. Seated around a round table were three old women and two old men, sipping tea. As the trio approached, the elders turned their attention toward them, their gazes unreadable.


    Fiona bowed deeply. "Greetings, Elders. May the gods bless you with wisdom, strength, and rity." Eleanor followed her example.


    The elders ced their palms over their hearts and responded, "Greetings, n Head." Though they acknowledged her presence, they remained seated, a sign of their high status.


    One of the elderly women, her pale skin almost translucent against the backdrop of her long, white hair, studied Eleanor carefully. "Fiona, is she an Elizabeth candidate?"


    Fiona smiled. "Grandmother, your eyes are as sharp as ever. She is newly turned."


    A hush fell over the elders. Murmurs spread among them, curiosity and spection evident in their hushed voices. After a few moments, the elderly woman asked, "What is her resonance score?"


    Fiona met her gaze. "Eighty-nine percent."


    Silence. The revtion left the elders visibly shaken. Even the woman, seemingly unfazed moments ago, stood up and approached Eleanor. She raised her index finger and pressed it gently against the center of Eleanor''s forehead.


    A moment passed before she retracted her hand and murmured, "I see. You have fully epted your transformation."


    She turned to Fiona. "Go and prepare her for the ritual. I will handle the rest."


    Fiona led Eleanor to a modest wooden hut. "This will be your temporary residence during your stay here," she exined. "Tonight is the Ancestral Moon, a sacred time when werewolves connect with their lineage, receiving wisdom or visions from those who came before us. At midnight, you will undergo an uncontroble transformation. Do not resist it; let it happen naturally."


    Eleanor nodded, listening intently.


    "During the transformation, you will experience an overwhelming bloodlust. It will urge you to fight or kill anything in sight," Fiona warned. "But don''t worry. My grandmother will oversee the ritual. The runes inscribed at the altar will confine you, preventing you from harming yourself or others. You may see visions, hear voices from past werewolves, or even experience heightened spiritual awareness. Whatever you do, do not move toward them."


    Noticing the concern on Eleanor''s face, Fiona offered a reassuring smile. "At the beginning of the ritual, we offer our blood to our ancestor, Elizabeth Raynor. Her spirit will protect you from harm. If you''re fortunate, she might even teach you something valuable. And if the gods favor you, you might meet our patron deity, Geri, the one who granted wisdom to our ancestor."


    She sighed before adding, "The ritual may be painful or even frightening. But remember, do not resist. The more you resist, the greater the pain. Many members of our pack do not even qualify for this ritual. You are already privileged to stand here."


    Eleanor took a deep breath and, after a pause, asked hesitantly, "Is there any risk to my baby?"


    Fiona shook her head. "On the contrary, if our ancestor deems your child worthy, she may bless it, making it stronger."


    Relief flooded Eleanor''s features. She nodded and, following Fiona''s instructions, cleansed herself before donning the ceremonial robes for the ritual.


    ***


    Half an hour before midnight, Fiona led Eleanor through a garden bathed in moonlight. At its center stood a grand altar, covered in ancient runes that Eleanor could not decipher. Behind it, a colossal stone wolf stood tall, an eternal sentinel watching over the sacred ground. Carved from obsidian-ck granite, its surface shimmered under the soft light, as if the night sky itself had been woven into its form. Majestic yet fearsome, it exuded an air of both primal savagery and divine grace.


    Eleanor felt its presence weigh on her as she approached.


    Oswyn Elizabeth Raynor, Fiona''s grandmother, stood before the altar. Her piercing gaze met Eleanor''s. "I will be in charge of your ritual. Follow my instructions carefully. No matter what appears before you, do not resist. eptance is the key."


    Eleanor swallowed hard but nodded. "I understand. Thank you." Though fear lingered in her voice, determination shone through.


    Oswyn''s expression softened. "This is the altar of our ancestor, Elizabeth Raynor. Behind it stands the statue of our patron god, Geri. Kneel and offer your blood to the altar."


    Eleanor obeyed. Transforming a finger into a w, she cut her palm and let the blood drip onto the stone.


    Oswyn nodded approvingly. "Now, forget the past. Focus only on the present. Pray to our god for wisdom and guidance."


    Eleanor closed her eyes, pressing her hand over her chest, and began her silent prayer.


    Oswyn retrieved a deep blue magic stone and ced it upon the altar. Then, stepping carefully, she retreated beyond the boundary of the great rune thaty concealed beneath the garden. With another flick of her wrist, she produced a second, smaller magic stone and gently set it at the rune''s outermost edge.


    A hum resonated through the air, sending ripples of energy outward. One by one, runes hidden in the garden''s soil began to glow, forming an intricate web of power. The magic surged, rising into an ethereal dome that enclosed Eleanor within its embrace.


    The moon reached its zenith.


    A sudden tremor ran through Eleanor. Her breath hitched, her body convulsed, and then... without warning... she transformed into her wolf form. A beastly howl ripped from her throat, echoing into the night.


    A column of white light descended upon her, lifting her off the ground. The transformation overtook her entirely, and then a new agony seized her. A sharp cry escaped her lips as raw power surged through her body. Tremors spread beyond the dome, shaking the earth.


    A golden cocoon formed around her suspended figure, pulsing with energy. The energy around her settled. Time itself seemed to hold its breath as she remained there, cradled in the embrace of the sacred light.


    The elders watched in silent reverence. For ten long minutes, time seemed to stand still.


    And then, gently, the cocoon began to fade, unraveling in delicate golden strands until nothing remained. Eleanor''s body descended slowly, returning to the earth like a falling petal. She came to rest before the altar, her body curled in repose, her breathing slow and even. Eleanory still, unconscious.

 Chapter 10: Past

    <h4>Chapter 10 - Past</h4>


    In front of the altar, Eleanor had waited patiently for the ritual to start. Her eyes were closed as she prayed silently to the god. Geri was the deity the Raynors had instructed her to seek guidance from. She didn''t know much about him, only that he was said to be one of Odin''s wolves, possessing an unyielding thirst for wisdom, strength, and conquest, much like Odin''s endless pursuit of knowledge. Yet, she doubted he was a true god. Still, she prayed nheless. Even if Geri couldn''t hear her, perhaps some god would.


    She silently pleaded for guidance from Raynor''s ancestor, Elizabeth Raynor. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming pressure descend from the sky. Her body involuntarily transformed into her werewolf form. Instinctively, she tried to look around, but the space around her was empty. Pain erupted through her body as her bones shattered and reformed continuously. A surge of raw, animalistic urges overtook her soul... the need to hunt, to fight. Her senses sharpened, her own bone-breaking sounds bing unbearable. An agonizing cry tore from her throat.


    Then, just as suddenly, everything became silent. The pain vanished. The hunger dissipated. The primal urges faded. Slowly, she opened her eyes. A vast white space surrounded her, stretching endlessly. She was alone.


    "Okay... They told me to ept what I see or feel. But what am I supposed to ept in this endless white void?" she thought. "Am I meant to feel... loneliness?"


    As if in response to her question, her vision blurred. When it cleared, she found herself in the middle of a battlefield. She froze. Before her, houses burned, women and children ran like headless chickens, and warriors d in tattered armor wielded shabby swords, spears, and shields, ughtering with impunity. It was a massacre.


    Her vision shifted again, pulling her deeper into the burning vige. In front of an ancient-style wooden house, tworge wolvesy lifeless in pools of blood. A small cub nestled between them, crying pitifully.


    Two soldiers viciously shouted and rushed toward the cub; weapons raised. Eleanor''s instincts red. Without thinking, she leaped forward, letting out a battle cry. But something was wrong. Her voice didn''te out as words... only a howl. She found that she was in her wolf form. The soldiers didn''t react. They ran past her as if she didn''t exist.


    She turned back, horror gripping her heart. She had been thinking about her own unborn child so muchtely that her maternal instincts surged, urging her to protect the cub.


    Just as the soldiers closed in, another wolf lunged from the side, taking them down in swift, savage movements. Eleanor let out a breath she hadn''t realized she was holding. But the sounds of battle... shing weapons, screams, and death... reminded her that this was far from over.


    The new wolf rushed to the cub, speaking urgently in anguage unfamiliar to Eleanor... yet she understood every word.


    "Elizabeth, we need to flee. Our soldiers can''t hold on much longer. If they find out you are the pack leader''s daughter, they will kill you."


    "No! I want to stay with Dad and Mom! I won''t go anywhere!" Elizabeth''s voice was fierce, but there was a childish stubbornness to it.


    "You don''t understand. Your parents are gone. Our pack members are fighting alongside the vigers, but the enemy outnumbers us. We won''t be able to hold them off for much longer. The only hope for our n''s future is to save those we can."


    With that, the wolf grabbed Elizabeth by the scruff and ran into the house. Ignoring the cub''s protests, he followed a hidden underground passage and emerged at a rocky cliff. Below, a wooden dock held several boats carrying survivors away from the burning vige.


    The wolf ced Elizabeth in thest remaining small boat but didn''t follow the others. Instead, he paddled in a different direction. Elizabethy on the deck, sobbing helplessly.


    Suddenly, another boat appeared behind them, paddled by warriors in pursuit. Their roars cut through the water with killing intent, rapidly closing the distance.


    The wolf turned to Elizabeth and said, "I will stop them. Stay focused. Keep growing stronger. When you feel that you can fight a hundred of me,e find me. I will be waiting for you at the prayer hill."


    Without waiting for a response, he leaped onto the enemy boat which came dangerously closer. His sudden attack disrupted their pursuit, but before Elizabeth could see the oue, her boat was caught in a powerful current. It sped away, leaving the battle behind.


    The scene changed again. Eleanor now saw the young cub lying unconscious on a distant shore. A colossal ck wolf approached, his fur shimmering like the night sky. His presence was overwhelming, almost divine. He sniffed the cub a few times before gently picking her up in one massive paw and carrying her into the nearby forest.


    "He might be Geri. Otherwise, who could have such a majestic presence and also rted to Elizabeth." Eleanor thought.


    Inside a cave, the ck wolfid the cub down and then left. Sometimeter, he returned, a freshly killed deer in his mouth. cing a paw on the cub, he sent a surge of energy into her small body.


    The cub jolted awake, terror in her eyes. She scrambled to the corner of the cave, trying to put as much distance between herself and the massive wolf. She looked around worriedly.


    The wolf nudged the deer toward her. The cub hesitated for some time, but hunger eventually won over fear. Slowly, she approached and began eating. Once she had her fill, she retreated back to her corner.


    Without a word, the wolf picked up the remains of the deer and devoured them entirely. Then, hey down, closing his eyes. The cub, though still wary, watched him closely.


    After some time, the wolf awoke and left the cave. The cub hesitated but eventually followed. The wolf nced back, snorted, then continued walking.


    Time passed. Eleanor watched as the cub continued trailing behind the wolf at a distance. The wolf hunted; the cub ate from his kills. The wolf slept; the cub slept nearby. Day after day, this routine continued... until, one night, the cub curled up beside the ck wolf, no longer fearful.


    The cub began to imitate the wolf, attempting to hunt smaller animals. As she grew, she continued to mimic the ck wolf''s every move. Then, one day, the ck wolf decided it was time to teach her... first, how to hunt. Then, how to fight using the raw power of a wolf''s physique. And finally, how to battle in human form.


    The wolf taught her wisdom,bat, magic, leadership, history... and countless other things.


    The cub became a youth, then an adult. Eleanor watched intently, absorbing every piece of knowledge she couldprehend. Until one day, the fully grown Elizabeth suddenly turned and locked eyes with her.


    Eleanor''s heart nearly leapt into her throat in fright. Then, she heard Elizabeth''s voice:


    "Alone, a wolf is deadly. In a pack, it is unstoppable. You are weak because you fear pain. Kill your fear, and you will know true strength. A wolf does not waste its fangs on shadows. Choose your prey. Kill with certainty. A blind hunter starves. See beyond sight, hear beyond sound... know the moment before it arrives. There is no end to the path... only those too weak to walk it."


    Eleanor''s vision shifted again. Everything turned white.

 Chapter 11: Inheritance

    <h4>Chapter 11 - Inheritance</h4>


    "It''s been seven days. She still hasn''t woken up?" Fiona asked elegantly as she entered the room. She had been away attending to her business after the ancestral moon ceremony and had just returned to Rayndell.


    "She''s fine. I also checked on her fetus. Both mother and child are healthy. There''s nothing to worry about," Oswyn replied in a monotone voice.


    "You took five days to recover. My aunt spent ten days assimting the knowledge she received. So what''s the issue here? I wouldn''t be concerned unless her health started deteriorating," Oswyn added.


    "It''s not that I''m worried," Fiona said, "It''s just been so long since an Elizabeth has appeared. Our family needs a boost in today''s business world, and I''m just feeling anxious."


    Oswyn shook his head. "Don''t stress yourself. Business is just a mean to suppress others. As long as we elders are alive, no one will dare to harm a Raynor."


    Fiona sighed. "I know that. But you''re out of touch with today''s industries. The tech sector dominates the market now, and we entered it toote. The major shares have already been taken. I nned to send Eleanor into this industry. Also, your method of fighting is risky in the modern world. Who knows? Other families might already have robot soldiers."


    Oswyn smirked. "So, you''re calling me an old geezer?" His tone was teasing. "You brat, do you need a spanking like old times?"


    Fiona chuckled and took a step back. "No, I didn''t."


    At that moment, another elder entered the room. "Elder Oswyn,e quickly! Eleanor is awake."


    Oswyn hurried towards the house where Eleanor was staying. Fiona and the other elder followed close behind.


    When they entered, they saw Eleanor sitting up in bed, her face still pale. She smiled weakly upon seeing them. "Greetings, Elders."


    Oswyn ignored the pleasantries and immediately checked her condition. After a while, he sighed in relief. "You''ve recovered well. There are no issues or bacsh. Do you feel any difort?"


    Eleanor hesitated for a moment, then admitted, "I''m hungry."


    The room filled withughter, breaking the tension. Eleanor asked, "How long was I unconscious?"


    "Today marks the seventh day," Oswyn informed her.


    Eleanor''s eyes widened. "That long? It only felt like a few hours to me," she muttered weakly.


    Since everyone present was werewolves, even her inaudible murmur was heard clearly. Oswyn reassured her, "That''s normal. The longest record stands at ten days, a record unbroken for over a thousand years."


    Eleanor was about to speak again when Fiona cut her off. "What you saw or heard was meant for you alone. Do not discuss it with others. The guidance we receive from our ancestors is specially tailored to our individual weaknesses and strengths. We must keep both hidden while empowering ourselves with the wisdom we gain."


    Eleanor nodded in agreement. "Understood."


    An elder brought a bowl of medicinal soup for Eleanor. She thanked them before gulping it down hungrily.


    After some time, as Eleanor began to feel tired, the elders let her rest and left the house.


    ***


    The next morning, Eleanor woke up early. Feeling some of her strength returning, she decided to take a stroll outside. As she stepped out, the morning sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, casting golden hues over the vige. The entire scene looked ethereal, as though nature herself embraced this ce with gentle care.


    The vige was a picturesque sight. Wooden houses were scattered around arge courtyard, leaving space for new constructions. It resembled something out of a medieval painting.


    As Eleanor took in the beauty of the ce, Fiona approached from behind. "You''re up early."


    "Good morning, Fiona," Eleanor greeted her.


    Fiona gave her a small nod. "Do you have enough energy for a walk?"


    Eleanor nodded. "I think so."


    "Good," Fiona said. "Follow me. I''ll give you a tour of the pocket dimension."


    After about fifteen minutes of walking, they arrived at an area where modern buildings stood in stark contrast to the wooden houses of the vige.


    "This is the modern section of the dimension," Fiona exined. "The elders who enjoy scientific research built theirbs here. We have all modern facilities, including electricity and inte. Some experiments take years toplete, and this ce allows them to work in peace. Only those of Raynor blood can enter due to a restriction seal at the dimension''s entrance."


    She paused before continuing, "There are many ongoing research projects here... weapons, medicine, robotics, biomedical engineering, renewable energy, agricultural science, and more. There are even some topics I don''t fully understand. If you''re interested in any of these fields, you can approach the elders for guidance."


    She turned to Eleanor. "However, there are rules. You can only approach ab if the door is open. If it''s closed, do not disturb the Elder inside. The best way is to speak with them in the vige first. If they find you suitable, they will mentor you."


    Fiona then pointed to arge, single-story building. "That''s theputer and AIb. It belonged to my father. It holds all updated technology up untilst year before he passed away."


    Eleanor lowered her gaze. "I''m sorry."


    Fiona shook her head. "Don''t be. He lived a full life. Honestly, he built thisb just to y video games. He found that talking about games and new tech helped him connect with the younger generation. If you ever feel bored and want to y, ask Elder Bedivere for the key."


    She chuckled before saying, "Now, let''s visit the natural section of the dimension."


    After another walk, they arrived at a secluded area where wooden huts were built far apart from one another.


    "This is where the artists, philosophers, andbat masters reside," Fiona exined. "You''ll find elders meditating for years, painters creating masterworks, and warriors inventing new fighting styles. If you wish to study humanities,bat, or crafts, this is the ce for you."


    Eleanor nodded. "So, if I want to learn modern sciences, I should visit the previous area. If I want to study humanities orbat, I shoulde here. Is that correct?"


    Fiona smiled. "Exactly. However, some parts of the dimension are strictly off-limits. Some elders have chosen solitude. Respect their wishes and do not approach those areas."


    She took a deep breath before continuing, "You will stay here until next month''s full moon. After that, the elders will evaluate you and decide when you can leave. Most are sent away after one month, and no one is allowed to stay longer than two."


    She paused, then added, "But your case is special. You will give birth soon. If you can convince the elders that your desire to learn is strong enough, and they allow you to give birth here, you and your child will receive unimaginable benefits. This ce is close to the World Tree, and werewolves can draw power from it. The elders here can teach you in ways the outside world never could."

 Chapter 12: Return

    <h4>Chapter 12 - Return</h4>


    Five yearster, a Gulfstream G650nded smoothly on a specially reserved private airstrip. As the aircraft rolled to a stop, the door opened, and before the crew could properly extend the stairs, a young girl bolted out of the ne. Her small figure darted across the tarmac, heading straight for the tall man standing near the terminal.


    "Daddy!" she shouted, her voice full of excitement as she leaped into his waiting arms. "I missed you so much!"


    The man caught her effortlessly, pulling her close. A rare, gentle smile softened his otherwise imposing features... a sight that would be unbelievable to anyone from the business world.


    The man was none other than Ethan Raynor, the current CEO of Purplebricks Limited, the leading constructionpany in the region. Known as a ruthless, calcting, and merciless businessman, he ruled the corporate world with an iron fist, crushingpetitors without hesitation. His name alone was enough to send shivers down the spines of rivals. Words like "cold-hearted," "arrogant," and "unforgiving" were often whispered behind his back, but none of that mattered now. At this moment, he was simply a father embracing his daughter.


    "I missed you too, sweetie," Ethan murmured into her ear before cing a kiss on top of her head.


    As this heartwarming reunion unfolded, a stunning young woman descended the aircraft stairs with poise. d in a perfectly tailored purple business suit that entuated her curves with effortless grace, she exuded confidence and elegance. Her long legs, enhanced by sleek high heels, made her presence impossible to ignore.


    With flowing silver-white hair cascading past her shoulders, she stood out like a rare gem... striking and unforgettable. Her captivating gaze held a quiet power, drawing people in while keeping them at arm''s length.


    Ethan''s eyes locked onto her as she approached, his usualposure wavering. Every nned word vanished from his mind, leaving him with a simple, "How was your flight?"


    Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, the mother of his child and heiress to the Raynor legacy, gave him a small, simple smile. "It was good. And you? How have you been?"


    "Fine," Ethan replied, though his voice carried an undertone of emotions he chose not to express. "Let''s go. Grandma''s vi is ready for you."


    Turning, he strode toward his custom-made BMW X5, still carrying the little girl in his arms. A bodyguard stepped forward, opening the door. Ethan gently ced the girl in her child seat, fastening her seatbelt with practiced ease before stepping aside to help Eleanor into the car. Once she was seated, he moved to the other side of the little girl.


    With everyone settled, he instructed the driver to start the car. As the engine purred to life, the convoy of five same vehicles, with two SUVs at the front and two at the back, smoothly departed. Each was filled with highly trained bodyguards, ensuring the safety of their most important passengers.


    Throughout the drive, Ethan engaged in lively conversation with the little girl, his deep voice contrasting with her high-pitched giggles. Eleanor, seated beside him, listened quietly, a faint smile appeared on her otherwise expressionless face.


    This adorable child was none other than Freya Raynor, the daughter of Eleanor. Born five years ago after numerous trials and tribtions, she was an exceptional child in every sense. Though she bore a striking resemnce to her mother, her dark hair was a direct inheritance from Ethan. Named after her great-grandmother, the current n head, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor, Freya possessed remarkable intelligence and abilities far beyond her years.


    Werewolf genes had granted her an elerated development. Unlike human children, who took years to master speech and movement, Freya had gained full control over her human form within six months. By then, she had already begun speaking fluently and understandingplex reasoning, astounding the elders of the Raynor pack.


    Due to this remarkable progress, Fiona had allowed Eleanor to remain in the ancestralnds until Freya was strong enough to blend into human society without difficulty. Once assured of her stability, Eleanor was sent to San Francisco to take charge of the Raynor family''s growing enterprises in Silicon Valley. She had spent thest few years strengthening their global presence in the technology sector.


    Now, Eleanor had returned to Manchester to establish the IT headquarters of the Raynor family, aiming to dominate the Kingdom''s market. This move was crucial, as technology was rapidly bing the backbone of business, and the Raynor family intended to secure their ce at the top.


    As the convoy weaved through the bustling city, the urban skyline gradually gave way to the tranquil suburbs. Soon, they arrived at the entrance of an opulent vi... a grand estate gifted to Eleanor by Fiona upon her return. Nestled within sprawling greenery, the vi was a masterpiece of modern architecture fused with ssic elegance. High walls ensured privacy, while state-of-the-art security measures provided an imprable fortress for its residents.


    The car rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance. A butler and several house staff were already lined up, waiting to wee them.


    The driver quickly stepped out and opened the door for Eleanor. As she emerged, she took a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of home wash over her. Freya, still buckled in her seat, bounced excitedly.


    "Mommy! Is this our new home?" she asked eagerly, her bright eyes shining.


    Eleanor smiled. "Yes, sweetheart. This is where we''ll be living from now on. Do you like it?"


    Freya nodded enthusiastically. "It''s so big! Can I have a puppy?"


    Ethan chuckled, ruffling her hair. "We''ll see about that. Let''s get you inside first."


    As they stepped into the grand hallway, Eleanor couldn''t help but feel a sense of nostalgia. Despite all the years spent abroad, Manchester would always be home. And now, with her daughter by her side and new ambitions ahead, she was ready to reim her ce in both the business world and the Raynor legacy.


    Eleanor nced at the household staff trailing behind them at a distance. She asked, "Are these all the staff in the house?"


    The butler nodded. "Yes, ma''am."


    Eleanor gave a curt nod. "Then follow me to the lounge." Turning to Freya, she softened her tone. "Be a good girl and go with Daddy to your new room. I''ll join you in a few minutes."


    After parting ways, Eleanor headed straight to the lounge. Once seated, she faced the gathered staff, who stood attentively before her.


    "All seven of you are from n nc, I presume?"


    The butler responded, "Yes, ma''am. Along with the fifty guards you requested."


    Eleanor suddenly stood up. "Wait a minute." Without another word, she strode out of the lounge at an astonishing speed.


    Outside, she spotted a guard patrolling near the boundary wall. Moving swiftly, she approached him from behind and delivered a precise chop to his neck, knocking him unconscious. Catching his falling body, she carefullyid him on the grass. She repeated this process with four more guards, incapacitating them effortlessly.


    With the same calmposure, she returned to the lounge and sat back down as if nothing had happened.


    "I''m utterly disappointed in n nc," she stated coolly. "Five guards are missing, yet no one has noticed."


    Just then, amotion erupted outside.


    Eleanor sighed. "Too slow for a response time." She turned to the butler. "Go and tell them not to

 Chapter 13: Relations

    <h4>Chapter 13 - Rtions</h4>


    When the butler went outside to handle the situation, Eleanor picked up her phone and dialed Teresa, her childhood friend.


    "I''ve arrived in the Kingdom. I''m sending you the address. Come as fast as you can. What about the ten Range Rovers I asked you to purchase?"


    Teresa responded promptly, "I managed to buy six from the market. The other four will be delivered within a week."


    "Alright. Bring all six with you. I have some things to take care of here, so we''ll talkter."


    She ended the call, asked a staff member for the vi''s exact address, and quickly sent it to Teresa.


    Teresa Li had been Eleanor''s friend since primary school. Her family once owned a renowned Shaolin dojo, where Eleanor had visited multiple times as a child. Teresa had always been a skilled fighter, trying to teach Eleanor self-defense techniques, but Eleanor, a pampered heiress, had never been interested in such rigorous training.


    However, after Teresa''s father passed away, their dojo was forced to close due to pressure frompetitors. Teresa and her mother then moved to San Francisco to live with her aunt, who owned a small business there.


    Fate brought them back together two years ago when Eleanor went to acquire a promising AI startup, only to find Teresa as one of its co-founders. Instead of simply taking over thepany, Eleanor offered her an even better opportunity... to work as her personal assistant and help build a new tech empire. Teresa epted without hesitation, eager to prove herself in the business world.


    After resolving the disturbance outside, the butler returned.


    Eleanor looked at him and asked, "Did you report the situation to your n head?"


    The butler''s face shed in embarrassment, he hesitated before nodding. "Y-Yes, Ma''am."


    She studied his nervous posture before offering a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry. I trust n nc. Your family has served us for generations without fail. I won''t hold you personally ountable for something like this."


    She then picked up her phone and called Dominic nc, the head of n nc.


    "Greetings, Grandpa Dominic. How is your health these days?" she said warmly as soon as he answered.


    After exchanging pleasantries, she got straight to the point. "I have to say, I''m a little disappointed by today''s incident. Though it''s partly my fault for not informing you sooner. The Leroux family doesn''t know I''m in the Kingdom yet. If they want to eliminate me to pressure my grandmother, your family is my first line of defense. Even if they''re unaware of mybat skills, they will undoubtedly send their best assassins. If my security team isn''t up to the task, it will be a problem."


    Dominic assured her that reinforcements would be sent immediately, and they discussed further security measures before she ended the call.


    Eleanor then turned to the staff present and dered firmly, "I want all my staff to be trained professionals. I''ve already survived multiple assassination attempts in the States. The Leroux family will strike again if they get the chance. I trust n nc, but if anyone feels unprepared for the responsibility of protecting me, let me know now. You will be reced with someone more capable. If there are any vacant positions that n nc cannot fill, inform me as soon as possible, and I will make alternative arrangements."


    After issuing her orders, she stood up. "My assistant, Teresa Li, will be bringing some vehiclester. Inform me when she arrives."


    With that, she ascended the stairs, searching for Ethan and Freya. Following the sound ofughter, she found them immersed in a game.


    She paused at the doorway, watching them. Ethan, usuallyposed and intimidating, now appearedpletely at ease, his usual cold expression reced by warmth as he yed with their daughter.


    Freya had missed her father terribly, especially after starting school. Despite Ethan''s daily video calls, they had only met in person a handful of times. Seeing them like this, Eleanor decided to give them some time together.


    "Freya, I''m going to take a bath. Freshen up after you''re done ying," she said casually before heading to the master bedroom.


    **


    That afternoon, as Eleanor was resting in her room, the butler informed her that Teresa had arrived. Meanwhile, Ethan had taken the responsibility of putting Freya down for a nap.


    Eleanor made her way to the lounge, where Teresa was waiting. It had been nearly six months since shest saw her.


    As soon as she came downstairs, Teresa''s face lit up. "Eleanor!" She jumped up and hugged her.


    Eleanor returned the embrace before motioning for her to sit. "How''s your progress here?"


    Teresa sighed, then handed over a folder. "Of the twelvepanies you wanted me to acquire, I''ve finalized deals with eight. The remaining four are causing trouble. Though they don''t know who''s behind these acquisitions, the industry is abuzz with spection. If we wait too long, it will be even harder toplete the takeovers."


    Eleanor flipped through the reports. "Which four are left?"


    "Sage Enterprise, Techno Club, Chen Group, and Fortune Tech," Teresa said, passing another set of documents. "This contains the finalized deals for the eight we''ve secured, and these are the investigative reports on the remaining four."


    As Eleanor scanned the documents, Ethan descended the staircase. Teresa immediately tensed and scrambled to her feet.


    "E-Ethan... Good afternoon, Mr. Raynor," she stammered, her voice a mix of nervousness and awe.


    She had heard countless stories about Ethan Raynor in the past six months. Ruthless, brilliant, and unforgiving in business... his reputation alone was enough to intimidate anyone. Though she had seen him in the news before, this was her first time meeting him in person.


    Ethan gave a brief nod. "Good afternoon, Miss."


    Eleanor nced up. "Ethan, this is Teresa, my assistant and childhood friend. I''ll give you her contactter."


    Ethan nodded. "Alright. I have a scheduled meeting, so I need to leave. Teresa, if you need anything, don''t hesitate to ask."


    After thinking for a while, Eleanor asked, "Besides Uncle Xavier, do we have any other intelligence sources?"


    Ethan responded, "Uncle Xavier has handled our family''s intelligence for years. He has pre-existing information on every major yer in the Kingdom. If you need something urgently, he''s your best option. But if you''d rather not involve him, send me the names, and I''ll handle it."


    "Got it. I''ll message youter," Eleanor said.


    As Ethan walked out, Teresa let out a breath she hadn''t realized she was holding. Eleanor, unfazed, continued reading the reports.


    After a moment, Teresa hesitated before asking, "Is Ethan Raynor your husband?"


    Eleanor didn''t look up. "No. We''re not married."


    Teresa frowned. "Then why is he here? And... doesn''t Freya resemble him?"


    Eleanor finally looked at her and said nonchntly, "He''s Freya''s biological father. That''s all. We''re just friends."


    Teresa was speechless.


    Eleanor sent Ethan a message detailing information about fourpanies. Then, turning to Teresa, she said, "Finalize all acquisitions for the eightpanies by tomorrow morning. The Executive Boardroom at the Hyatt Hotel has been booked for the meeting. I''ve already sent a list of employees to retain, dismiss the rest with three months'' severance. I want everyone relocated to Heimdall Tower immediately."

 Chapter 14: Conquest

    <h4>Chapter 14 - Conquest</h4>


    In the evening, while Eleanor was reading a bedtime story to Freya, Ethan''s secretary, Jack Brown, arrived to deliver the information regarding the fourpanies. She let her daughter continue ying in her room and went downstairs to meet Jack.


    Jack was tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong presence that made him look more like a bodyguard than a secretary. As soon as Eleanor entered the living room, he stood up and greeted her with a respectful nod.


    Eleanor epted the folder from him and said, "I might need some help from you. My secretary, Teresa, recently returned from the States, and herwork here is still insufficient for my uing ns. I hope you''ll assist her and provide some guidance. I''ll send your number to herter, and she''ll call you."


    Jack inclined his head slightly. "Understood, Ms. Raynor."


    After sending him off, Eleanor went to her study to review the documents on the fourpanies. For the next half-hour, she meticulously read through the information, taking notes and formting strategies for each acquisition.


    Once satisfied, she picked up her phone and called Teresa. "I''m sending you some photos of the chairman of Sage Enterprise. Apparently, he''s having an extramarital affair with another director''s wife. By tomorrow morning, as soon as the stock market opens, I want his scandal to be on every news headline. Prepare our buyers... we need to purchase all avable shares when the stock price plummets."


    She paused momentarily before continuing, "Check your mobile. I''ve sent you Jack''s number. He''s Ethan''s assistant, and I just spoke with him. If you need any assistance, he''ll help."


    Teresa''s voice was firm. "Understood. I''m on it."


    "One more thing," Eleanor added. "Contact Fortune Tech and inform them that I want to have lunch with their chairman tomorrow. If they don''t agree, mention that I wish to discuss the matter of Annabel Miller. That should get their attention. Set the meeting at a restaurant near Heimdall Tower so that I can join easily from my office."


    After finishing the call, Eleanor sent Ethan a short message: "Thank You."


    She then returned to Freya''s room, where the little girl was still immersed in her activities. Smiling, Eleanor joined her for some ytime, momentarily setting aside the ruthless world of business.


    Meanwhile, across town, Ethan was attending a high-profile banquet, his usual stoic expression firmly in ce. When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he nced at the screen and saw Eleanor''s message. For a brief moment, a rare smile yed on his lips before it quickly disappeared. A few attendees who had caught the fleeting expression on his face wondered if they had imagined it.


    ***


    The following morning, after breakfast, Eleanor entrusted Freya''s care to a new nanny from the nc n. Linda nc was a woman in her forties, slightly plump, with a warm and dependable demeanor. After a brief conversation, Eleanor found herself liking her.


    Freya, however, didn''t particrly need a nanny. Whenever her mother was working, she busied herself with games, books, or her favorite hobby... programming. She had shown remarkable aptitude in coding, and Eleanor asionally taught her advanced techniques.


    Thus, Linda''s primary responsibility was to ensure that Freya ate and slept on time.


    Eleanor had already enhanced the vi''s security the previous day. Thetest AI-powered surveince system, developed by her ownpany, now monitored the household. Any security breach or anomaly would be reported to her instantly.


    After finalizing household matters and giving staff instructions, Eleanor left for the Hyatt Hotel, where the acquisition process was set to take ce.


    ***


    In the Executive Boardroom of the hotel, Teresa was waiting alongside severalwyers. While no one knew the true identity of the newpany or its owners, Teresa was recognized as its representative.


    Outside the room, the representatives of the eight ITpanies gathered, exchanging hushed spections. They were all seasoned professionals in the same industry, but none of them could fathom just how much capital this mysteriouspany had to attempt acquiring all of them at once.


    As curiosity and tension thickened the air, Teresa finally stepped out and invited them inside. Once everyone was seated, she addressed them calmly. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have called you here today to finalize and sign our previously agreed-upon contracts. Since my boss is upied with other matters, I decided to conduct all signings simultaneously. Please review the final contract and inform us if there are any discrepancies."


    Awyer from her side handed each representative a pre-written contract. While they were carefully going through the documents, a convoy of five ck Range Rovers pulled up in front of the hotel. The doors of the front and rear vehicles opened first, and several bodyguards stepped out, positioning themselves strategically.


    Then, from the middle car, a striking woman emerged, wearing an impably tailored purple business suit. She walked into the hotel with an air of effortless authority, her every movement exuding confidence and control. The bodyguards followed her closely, their gazes scanning the surroundings with practiced vignce.


    Inside the Boardroom, thepany representatives were still discussing the contract when the doors suddenly swung open. A hush fell over the room as the breathtakingly beautiful woman entered.


    Teresa and her entourage immediately stood up in deference, prompting the rest of the room to follow suit. Even those who had never met her instinctively recognized her as the boss.


    Eleanor walked to the head of the long conference table and took her seat, her expression calm and unreadable. "Everyone, please be seated," she said in an even tone.


    As the attendees settled back into their chairs, she continued, "I am Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, Chairman of Heimdall Technologies Limited. If any of you have second thoughts or objections, now is the time to voice them. Otherwise, let''s not waste any more time. Let''s sign the contracts."


    There were no objections. One by one, the representatives signed the agreements, while Teresa affixed thepany seal to each document. Awyer then distributed copies to the respective signatories. Since the terms remained unchanged from their earlier negotiations, none of them hesitated before signing.


    Once thest contract was collected, Eleanor addressed the room again. "Teresa will now proceed with transferring the agreed-upon funds to your respective ounts. I expect all of yourpanies to relocate to Heimdall Tower by the end of today. From this moment forward, every employee, file, and asset under yourpanies belongs to me. Any attempt to sabotage or withholdpany property will result in legal consequences."


    She gave them a moment to process her words before adding, "My personnel are already stationed outside yourpany premises. Please inform your offices to cooperate. Anyone who refuses toply will be terminated without hesitation."


    Panic flickered across a few faces, and within moments, everyone was hastily calling their offices, ensuring smooth transitions.


    When themotion subsided, Eleanor leaned back slightly and continued, "Additionally, I invite all directors of the eightpanies to join Heimdall Technologies. I acquired your businesses because I recognize your expertise and contributions to the industry. If you choose to stay, you will receive a 1% stake in thepany. Your roles within Heimdall will be decidedter. Those interested should contact Teresa by the end of today."


    She turned to Teresa and asked, "Is everything ready for the show?"


    Teresa nodded. "All set."


    Eleanor''s lips curved ever so slightly. "Then let it begin."


    Teresa picked up her phone and sent a confirmation text. A few secondster, she looked up. "It has begun."


    Eleanor rose from her seat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it''s been a pleasure doing business with you. As a parting gift, I''ve prepared a little show for you. Open the stock market app and enjoy."


    With that, she strode out of the room, her demeanor asposed as ever.


    As soon as she left, everyone scrambled to check their stock market apps. For a few seconds, nothing changed. Then, the stock price of Sage Enterprise plummeted. Within minutes, it hit the circuit breaker, leaving everyone in stunned silence.

 Chapter 15: Acquisition-1

    <h4>Chapter 15 - Acquisition-1</h4>


    Almost all the news sites exploded with the shocking revtion about the chairman of Sage Enterprise. Extramarital affairs were not umon these days... many businessmen kept mistresses, and it was considered an open secret. However, this scandal struck Sage Enterprise particrly hard because the affair was with another director''s wife.


    Soon, television stations and social media jumped into the fray. While TV stations exercised some restraint, social media took the news to another level. As soon as certain pre-set influencers posted their articles, the situation spiraled out of control. Their followers amplified the outrage, portraying the chairman as a predator and demanding justice.


    Most individual shareholders believed that an internal power struggle was imminent and that thepany''s stock price would continue to plummet. Panic set in, and they rushed to offload their shares. Within a few minutes, Eleanor''s team managed to acquire 18.5% of the market shares of Sage Enterprise at rock-bottom prices.


    In the boardroom, after Eleanor left, Teresa remained, her eyes glued to the live updates on her phone. Those tasked with undermining Sage Enterprise continuously sent her updates. As she reviewed the reports, a satisfied smile graced her red lips, enhancing her already striking beauty.


    The representatives of the eightpanies shuddered. They had been aware that Teresa''s boss wanted to acquire Sage Enterprise, but they hadn''t realized the extent of her determination. Sage Enterprise had fiercely resisted the acquisition attempt, even rallying support from industry peers to block the unknownpany from taking control. Seeing how swiftly the tables had turned, the representatives silently resolved to stay on Eleanor''s good side.


    Teresa, immersed in her phone, suddenly noticed the intense gazes directed at her. When she looked up, she found the representatives staring at her as if she were their long-lost lover. Feeling uneasy, she awkwardly cleared her throat.


    "Thank you all for your cooperation. If there''s nothing else, I''ll take my leave," she said smoothly.


    "Oh! There''s one more thing. My boss has prepared a small token of appreciation for you all." She retrieved an envelope from her bag, and an assistant distributed the exquisite Hyatt Hotel gift cards inside.


    Once everyone had received their cards, she added, "This is a candlelit dinner voucher for two at Hyatt, valid for one month. Use it at your convenience."


    She paused before continuing, "You''re also wee to visit our office on Oxford Road. Don''t worry, you won''t miss Heimdall Tower. If you need any assistance, you have my number."


    With that, she gracefully exited the room and headed to her office.


    ***


    Upon arriving at Heimdall Tower, Eleanor admired the grandeur of the building. Although she had seen it in videos, this was her first time witnessing it in person. Without dy, she went directly to the top floor, where her personal staff from Silicon Valley had already been transferred.


    One of her assistants, Maya, a sharp-minded Indian woman, approached her with updates.


    "Madam, all reports have beenpiled. The meeting with the core management team has been arranged on the neenth floor."


    Eleanor nodded. "Good. I''ll attend soon."


    Maya left to finalize the meeting preparations, and momentster, Lily, another assistant, entered with updates on Sage Enterprise. Havingpleted her Master of Liberal Arts in Finance from Harvard three years ago, Lily was a financial prodigy, and Eleanor had taken her in as soon as she graduated.


    After exchanging pleasantries, Lily got straight to the point. "We managed to acquire 18.5% of Sage''s shares before market closing. However, in thest few minutes,petition intensified. I suspect they''ll fight back aggressively tomorrow."


    Eleanor remained unfazed. "That''s fine. We only need 2% more. Keep buying as much as possible."


    Lily frowned slightly. "Even with 20.5%, we''ll only secure a director''s position. That won''t serve our ultimate purpose."


    Eleanor smirked. "Don''t worry. I have ns for thispany."


    At that moment, Teresa walked in and overheard the conversation. "What n are you two cooking up?" she asked with curiosity.


    Eleanor turned to her. "Teresa, you''re just in time. Get in touch with the director whose wife is involved in this scandal. Approach him carefully... he''ll be livid. He holds 20% of Sage''s shares. Offer to buy them from him at today''s opening market price. Given everything that''s happened, I doubt he''ll want to remain in the samepany as the man who betrayed him. Assure him that we won''t announce his sale until we hold the majority. This will give him time to exact his revenge. And if he helps us secure additional shares from other directors, we''ll ensure more damaging stories about the chairman reach the public."


    Teresa''s eyes widened in surprise. "Do we have more dirt?"


    Eleanor''s smirk deepened. "Of course. I have an entire series lined up. Also, reach out to the chairman''s wife... she owns 10% of Sage''s shares. If she sells to us at today''s market price, we can provide evidence that her husband is a serial offender. This will significantly strengthen her case in the divorce and increase herpensation."


    Lily exhaled in realization. "So that''s why you only needed 2% more. You already had a strategy to secure the majority."


    Eleanor nodded. "I want full control of thepany. They don''t understand the potential of theirtest software. Once we integrate it into our AI systems, its value will skyrocket. I refuse to let anyone else reap the rewards of our hard work."


    Maya entered the office and reported, "The core team is assembled and waiting in the conference room on the neenth floor."


    Eleanor stood and, as she walked out, instructed, "Teresa, remind every media outlet not to mention my name or publish my photo. Both I and Heimdall Technologies must remain in the shadows for now. As a gesture of goodwill, we''ll provide them with an indefinite free subscription to ourtest antivirus software for their offices."


    She turned to Maya. "Gather a list of media outlets willing to maintain a good rtionship with us. Send a team of engineers to install the antivirus software in their offices this week. We may need stronger media support soon."


    ***


    Taking the stairs down one floor, Eleanor entered the conference room where sixty-four core employees awaited her. Without hesitation, she walked to the podium.


    "I''ve gathered you all here to inform you that ourpany''s expansion has begun," she announced. "Each of you has yed a critical role in bringing Heimdall Technologies to where it is today. But now, you must step up and take on greater responsibilities."


    She let her words sink in before continuing. "You will remain in this building, but you will now lead your own teams. Today, we fully acquired eightpanies. Over a thousand new employees will be joining us soon. Who better to lead them than you?"


    A murmur of excitement rippled through the room.


    "Don''t worry," she reassured them. "Every new employee will sign a confidentiality agreement with a penalty of ten million pounds, just as you did. Ourpany secrets will remain secure. Maintain the same information hierarchy as before. No matter what you work on, know that your creations are safe here."


    She paused, then concluded firmly, "Teresa will assign your new officester. Money is not an issue... think big. Together, we will create the most powerful Artificial Intelligence the world has ever seen."


    A round of determined apuse filled the room as Eleanor walked out with confidence, ready for the next step in her conquest.

 Chapter 16: Acquisition-2

    <h4>Chapter 16 - Acquisition-2</h4>


    After the meeting, Eleanor returned to her office and called in five members of the top management. Along with them, Teresa, Lily, and Maya were also present, sitting in front of her.


    She opened her MacBook and navigated to her future ns folder.


    "You all know that Corsair Gaming currently has the best DDR5 RAM in the market. However, I would argue otherwise. The best RAM is actually from Angelic Labs Limited, one of thepanies we just acquired. The problem is their production costs are high, and due to ack of funds, they couldn''t capture the market''s attention. Only a few gaming enthusiasts buy their RAM."


    She paused and looked around the room, ensuring everyone was following her.


    "By acquiring thispany, we now own their design and production line. We will expand the production line and stop selling the RAM externally. Instead, we will stockpile them for our servers."


    Everyone began to understand the reasoning behind such arge-scale acquisition.


    She continued, "Anotherpany we bought was InfiTech Solutions. They produce HBM4-based memory for SK Hynix. We have already finalized our own HBM4-based memory, which is not much different from Hynix''s. With slight alterations in the production line, we can begin production immediately."


    She then shifted her focus to anotherpany. "ByteNest Innovations has a fully established top-loading storage server production line. They are currently manufacturing storage servers using the NVIDIA Grace CPU Superchip. We will alter the production line and produce our own 4U top-loading storage servers invented by our US office."


    Turning her gaze toward a woman in her early 30s, wearing golden-rimmed sses, she said, "Helena, you are being promoted. You will take charge of these three factories as the production manager of the Memory Department. You also need to secure as many Micron 9550 NVMe SSDs as possible from the market."


    Helena Rodrigues, a Brazilian immigrant, had been working at Hewlett-Packard afterpleting her graduation from Stanford when Eleanor first met her at a training center in Indianapolis. With sun-kissed skin, dark wavy hair cascading past her shoulders, and deep brown eyes, Helena''s presence was bothmanding and graceful. Her expertise and ability to captivate an audience made her an asset.


    Helena nodded in satisfaction. After nearly a year at thepany, Eleanor had finally entrusted her with the role she had promised during recruitment. "I''ll do my best," she said confidently.


    Eleanor continued, "We will retain all employees from these factories who agree to our terms and sign the confidentiality agreement. This way, we will have an almost fully operational factory with minimal vacancies."


    She paused before moving to the next point. "InfiTech Solutions is the sole distributor of AMD Inc. in the Kingdom''s market. TechNest Global is one of the distributors of NVIDIA Corporation in the Kingdom''s market. We will need arge-scale supply of AMD Instinct MI300X and NVIDIA H100 NVL cards in the future. We also need AMD EPYC 9754 and NVIDIA Grace Hopper Superchip processors. I acquired these twopanies to stockpile theseponents."


    She looked at Timini Williams, a young British-Nigerian with an athletic physique. "Timini, you will take charge of these twopanies. Even if the Kingdom''s market faces a shortage of these products, we must ensure we have an ample supply. Also, using the parentpany''s connections, reach out to other distributors worldwide and try to purchase from them, even if it means paying a higher price."


    Taking a deep breath, she added, "You will be the manager of the Processor Units. Retain only the employees you deem fit from these twopanies."


    Eleanor then turned to the only elderly man in the room. "Uncle Smith, NexaByte Technologies operates arge data center at Trafford Park. They have a dedicated power grid there, and the surrounding area is still vacant for future expansion. With your experience working at HM Land Registry, you will be our external affairs manager. Your expertise will help us purchasend and handle governmental matters."


    James Smith, a veteran with over thirty years in various governmental roles, had joined a subsidiary of Raynor Group after retirement before transitioning to Eleanor''spany. Due to his extensivework and efficiency, she had retained him permanently.


    James smiled and said, "Okay. I''ll do my best to meet your expectations."


    Eleanor then turned to Ava Martin, a young woman who had graduated in Data Centre Leadership and Management from Anglia Ruskin University. Her family had emigrated from Australia and now lived permanently in Failsworth. Eleanor had found her via LinkedIn while searching for a suitable candidate to manage her data center.


    "Ava, you will be the manager of our Data Center. Work closely with others to ensure everything runs smoothly. This is your primary responsibility. Also, order customized Te Megapacks for backup."


    Eleanor paused for a moment before adding, "NovaTech Labs has developed scble liquid cooling server racks for high-density data centers. Their technology isparable to the best cooling systems avable in the market. We must continue production for our own data centers. If we have excess supply beyond our demand, we can consider selling the surplus."


    She then looked at the entire group and continued, "DataNest Innovations recently developed a high-performance, high-density data center switchparable to the Cisco Nexus 9800 Series. However, they failed to gain an advantage because NVIDIA''s InfiniBand interconnects dominated the market. Due to theirck of resources, DataNest was nning to sell the technology topetitors of NVIDIA."


    She turned to Olivia Brown, who had followed her from the United States. "We need to cooperate with our US team and improve these two products for our internal use. Olivia, you will be the Manager of Networking Infrastructure. Given that your family is still in the US, you''ll be the perfect candidate to travel between the two locations as needed."


    Olivia epted immediately. "Thank you. I''ll do my best with these twopanies."


    Eleanor concluded, "All five of you have been promoted to managerial positions with different duties. However, remember that cooperation is key to ensuring the sess of our final product. Morepanies will be joining us in the future, so be prepared for additional responsibilities."


    She then turned to Teresa. "If I''m not mistaken, we currently hold only 2.1% of NVIDIA''s shares. To ensure a stable supply of their products, I want that number to increase to at least 10%. Keep an eye on US stock movements. Additionally, I noticed that some Indian startups are developingwork infrastructures. If there are any significant advancements, inform me immediately. I want to invest in Indian manufacturers."


    After exchanging ideas and rifying future tasks, the group dispersed, leaving Eleanor alone in her office to prepare for her next meeting with Fortune Tech.

 Chapter 17: Acquisition-3

    <h4>Chapter 17 - Acquisition-3</h4>


    After arranging everything in the office, Eleanor headed directly to Manchester235 Casino. Teresa had booked the Chef''s Table at James Martin Manchester for her meeting with Edward Miller, Chairman of Fortune Tech.


    James Martin Manchester was a spectacr restaurant that retained elements of the historic Great Northern Warehouse, such as exposed brickwork and industrial-chic steel girders. The selection of luxury vintage-style fabrics and artwork created an incredible dining atmosphere there.


    The Chef''s Table was located in a private space, separated from the main restaurant by elegant curtains. Eleanor had frequently visited this ce during her university days at the University of Manchester.


    Upon arriving, the Floor Manager personally escorted her from the lift to the Chef''s Table, where she found Edward Miller already waiting. As expected, he was alone.


    "Sorry, Mr. Miller, I hope you haven''t been waiting long. I am Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, Chairman of Heimdall Technologies. It''s nice to meet you," she said as she approached the table.


    Edward, despite being the older of the two, stood up as she arrived. "Not long at all. Please, have a seat."


    She took her seat across from him. "Thank you. Have you ordered your lunch yet?"


    "No," he admitted. "This is my first time dining here, so I was waiting for you."


    "Alright then, I''ll take the liberty of being the host." She turned to the floor manager and said, "Please take note of our order: two Spiced Onion Bhajis, one Roast Proven?al Vegetable Pithivier for the gentleman, one Porterhouse for me, two Caesar sds, two servings of peppercorn sauce, and one bottle of Dom P¨¦rignon. Please serve as soon as possible. Thank you."


    The manager noted the order and left.


    Edward observed her thoughtfully. "You seem to know your way around here. Are you a frequent visitor?"


    "I used to be," she replied with a small smile. "Back when I was studying at the University of Manchester."


    Edward fell silent for a moment, then hesitated before speaking. "Let''s not beat around the bush. I''ll be direct... how do you know my granddaughter?"


    Eleanor met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Annabel Miller. Almost five years old. Blood group A negative. Diagnosed with dted cardiomyopathy. ording to her doctors, she has no more than six months to live without a transnt. But you haven''t found a suitable donor despite searching for all these years. Although your family has gone to great lengths to keep her condition hidden, I was able to uncover the truth."


    She slid two medical reports across the table toward him. One was for a patient diagnosed with Tay-Sachs disease, a four-year-old boy with blood group A negative and a maximum life expectancy of six years. The other report detailed the heart size and condition of that same patient.


    "Tay-Sachs disease is a gic disorder that destroys nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord," she exined. "It''s caused by mutations in the HEXA gene, which lead to the umtion of a toxic fatty substance called GM2 ganglioside in nerve cells. This buildup results in progressive neurological deterioration. There is currently no effective cure. The disease rapidly destroys the brain and nervous system... but interestingly, the heart remains intact."


    Edward''s face was a mixture of shock and understanding as he listened.


    "The boy has five other siblings," Eleanor continued. "His parents are poor and cannot afford his hospitalization. One of my friends, a high-ranking official at UNICEF, is currently covering his medical expenses."


    Edward took a deep breath. "What are your conditions?"


    Eleanor leaned back slightly; her voice steady. "I''m not here to exploit your granddaughter''s condition to acquire yourpany. My offer is simple... I want 70% of Fortune Tech at market price. I''ll pay the full amount upfront. You will step down as Chairman and take on the role of CEO. There''s no need to publicize the change in ownership. Your family will remain in charge of thepany, just as they are now. And please, no bargain."


    She paused before adding, "If you ept my offer, I can arrange for you to meet the boy''s parents. With the right financial incentives, acquiring a dying boy''s heart shouldn''t be a problem for you. If you prefer, I can facilitate the deal myself."


    Edward''s fingers tightened around the reports. "I need a day to consider your offer."


    "I''m afraid that won''t be possible, Mr. Miller," Eleanor said, shaking her head. "My time is highly valuable. You''re not the onlypany on my list. I''ve already acquired eightpanies today, and another is currently underway. You must have seen the headlines about Sage. Since your family owns Fortune Tech, I want you to make a decision now. I decided to have lunch with you; after that, I have other matters to attend to."


    She handed him a pre-written acquisition agreement. Edward took it, his face grim as he began reading.


    At that moment, the curtain moved to the side, and the restaurant manager entered with the waitstaff. They skillfully arranged the table before departing.


    Eleanor gestured toward the meal. "Mr. Miller, I''ve had a rather busy day, and I''m hungry. Please, serve yourself."


    Edward hesitated, then stood up. "Miss Raynor, you start. I need to use the washroom first." He picked up the agreement and left the room.


    Eleanor knew he was stepping away to consult with his family. She didn''t wait and began eating.


    Over ten minutester, Edward returned. Without a word, he sat down, picked up the pen, and signed the agreement.


    He looked at Eleanor and said, "Miss Raynor, I''ve fulfilled my part of the deal. Please provide me with the donor''s details. My son will leave today." He slid the signed agreement across the table.


    Eleanor epted the document, set it aside, and said, "Please, eat first. The donor is in Delhi, India. My friend is the current UNICEF Representative to India. All you need to do is go there, and I''ll handle the arrangements. Make sure to consult with your doctors about the transnt... one of the patients will need to be moved."


    She took a sip of her wine before adding, "Also, keep this matter strictly confidential. My friend''s position is delicate. She won''t be actively involved in your negotiations. You know how journalists and humanitarians can be these days."


    Edward nodded. "I understand. Rest assured, no one will hear about this. And before we leave India, I''ll relocate the donor''s family to another region."


    As they ate, Edward seemed lost in thought. After a while, he said, "I''m just curious... are you rted to Ethan Raynor? You share the same surname."


    Eleanor paused, considering her response. Then, she said, "As my business partner, all I can tell you is that we are on good terms."


    Edward, a seasoned businessman, immediately grasped the implication behind her words. Internally, he sighed in relief. "Thank God we didn''t provoke this woman. I almost feel pity for Sage Enterprise. One Raynor already struck fear into the business world, and now another is rising. This might be the best decision... to align with them. Five years ago, Ethan Raynor swept through the business battlefield. Manchester''s businessndscape is about to change again with this youngdy," he thought.


    While Edward was deep in thought, Eleanor finished her meal, signed the agreement, and called Teresa.


    Teresa arrived shortly and transferred the agreed payment to Edward Miller.


    Eleanor stood up. "Mr. Miller, I hope we will be sessful together. Teresa will discuss our future ns for yourpany with you. Oh! My apologies... ourpany. Don''t worry, you''ll be pleased with my arrangements."


    With that, she turned and left the restaurant, her business for the day far from over.

 Chapter 18: Acquisition-4

    <h4>Chapter 18 - Acquisition-4</h4>


    Eleanor returned to her office and immediately called Freya. They chatted for a few minutes, mostly about Freya''s activities that morning. The mother-daughter duo enjoyed a brief, rxed moment after lunch before Eleanor ended the call and refocused on work.


    She reviewed her ns for Techno Club and Chen Group, then sent an email to thewyer handling negotiations with Techno Group. After that, she summoned Maya, Lily, and Olivia to her office.


    Once they were seated, she announced, "I just acquired 70% of Fortune Tech. The Miller family will continue to manage thepany, but only as long as they adhere to our rules. Lily, select an experienced person from our core team to be our representative in Fortune Tech."


    All three women were shocked by this revtion. Maya, disbelief evident in her voice, said, "You just went to have lunch with their chairman and walked out owning thepany?"


    Eleanor handed the signed agreement to Lily, who scanned through it before passing it to the others.


    Lily nodded in understanding. "So, we won''t interfere in thepany''s day-to-day operations?"


    "Correct," Eleanor affirmed. "Fortune Tech recently developed a highly efficient facial recognition software. They are currently in talks with several social media tforms. Stop them from making any deals and transfer the entire team working on the software to Heimdall. Then, send the software''s source code, executable files, APIs, SDKs, code documentation, testing and other support materials, and deployment instructions to our US office."


    She turned to Olivia. "Work closely with this team and our US development unit to integrate the facial recognition software into our main AI."


    Then, addressing Lily again, she said, "Fortune Tech will continue its normal operations, but I need you to develop a n to improve its profitability. Also, implement our confidentiality agreements and sry structures there."


    "Maya," she continued, "after Teresa finalizes the legal procedures, you''ll take over her role in maintaining contact with Fortune''s board. Keep this acquisition out of the media spotlight."


    Having given her instructions, Eleanor concluded, "That''s all for now. Send James Smith to me."


    The three women left, and a few minutester, James Smith entered the room.


    "Uncle Smith, please have a seat," Eleanor said warmly.


    James took his seat, and Eleanor got straight to the point. "I need your advice on acquiring the IT division of the Chen Group. As you know, the Chens have a vast business empire, but I''m only interested in their ITpany. If I take the same aggressive approach as I did with Sage, they''ll retaliate with the full support of their group. IT is one of their smallest ventures, but I have found two weak points. First, their casinos are deeply connected to the underworld and are involved in illegal drug trade. I could orchestrate a crackdown and temporarily shut them down, but with their financial backing, they''d reopen within days."


    She paused before adding, "The second issue is Daniel Chen, the son of Chen IT''s chairman. He is on China''s most-wanted list for murder and is currently in the US under my surveince. I can have him captured and sent to the Chinese Embassy at any time."


    James shook his head. "Neither option is ideal. The Chens have deep roots in the Kingdom. Their primary business is importing broadcasting equipment for mediapanies, giving them strong ties to major media outlets. If you attack them, they''ll use their media influence to strike back, which could be bad for us. Without a guaranteed strategy, I advise you to back down from the Chens. Let me dig some information about Chens. I''ll inform youter."


    Eleanor nodded, taking in his advice. "Thank you. I''ll look for anotherpany that fits my needs."


    James stood. "If you need anything else, let me know."


    As James left, Teresa entered, looking cheerful.


    Eleanor smirked. "I was just about to call you."


    Teresa beamed. "No need. I''ve already contacted the director of Sage Enterprise and the chairman''s wife. Both meetings are scheduled for this evening. I''ll have good news for you by tonight."


    "Make sure you seal both deals," Eleanor instructed. "Also, offer an additional one million pounds to the director''s offshore ount if he can get us another 10% of the shares."


    She then became serious. "I''m at a disadvantage with Chen Group. Acquiring their IT division seems nearly impossible in the short term. We originally nned to acquire their new Element Management System."


    After a brief pause, she added, "But after weighing the pros and cons, I''ve decided to leave them alone and pursue an alternative. Before I exin my backup n, call Lily and Maya."


    Teresa called them, and shortly after, they entered the room.


    "For now, we won''t pursue Chen IT," Eleanor dered. "Instead, we''re shifting focus to HFCL of India. Lily, research how to secure a director position in thatpany. Buy up all avable shares in the market."


    She continued, "Currently, foreign investments in HFCL stand at 7%, while 33% of shares are publicly traded. Our immediate goal is to surpass 10% ownership. We''ll use their EMS for our goal for now. And import their goods topete with Chen''s broadcasting equipment business. If we establish HFCL in the Kingdom, we can challenge the Chens and disrupt their market dominance. It''s a win-win."


    "I''ll allocate 100 million pounds for this tomorrow," she assured Lily. Then, turning to Teresa, she said, "Keepmunication lines open with Chen IT. If they don''t sell by the end of this week, I''ll destroy the entire Chen Group''s backbone within a year. Either way, their EMS will be ours."


    Teresa looked concerned. "Boss, that''s extreme. We have alternatives."


    Eleanor gave her a reassuring smile. "Don''t worry. I''m not personally targeting them... I''m just following the profits. HFCL is a better investment, and the Chens are just coteral damage."


    Her phone vibrated. She answered, listened for a moment, then ended the call with a satisfied expression. "Techno Club just agreed to sell us 51% of their shares. The signing is scheduled for tomorrow morning."


    Teresa was stunned. "What? They rejected me again just yesterday!"


    Eleanor smirked. "I ckmailed them and adjusted my demand. I found a video of their bribery attempt with the Secretary of State for Environment to obtain a NOC for their new factory. I initially demanded 70% to keep the video hidden. They finally agreed at 51%."


    She leaned back. "Now, we have our machine learning and AI model training software ready. The only missing piece is Sage''s video processing software. Once we secure that, we''re ready for the big move."


    Teresa grinned. "Don''t worry. I''ll make sure tonight''s meetings are sessful."


    Eleanor nodded. "Good. Then we''re on track. If there''s nothing urgent, I''d like to head home and spend time with my daughter."


    Maya chimed in. "I don''t have anything pressing either. Can Ie with you? I want to see the little princess."


    Eleanor packed her bag, stood up, and smiled. "Let''s go, then."

 Chapter 19: Acquisition-5

    <h4>Chapter 19 - Acquisition-5</h4>


    When Eleanor reached her vi, she found Ethan ying with Freya in her room. As usual, he was still wearing a ck business suit, even while ying with his daughter. Seeing Eleanor and Maya at the door, he walked out while Freya remained engrossed in solving a puzzle.


    Eleanor introduced them. "Ethan, this is Maya, my assistant."


    Ethan greeted her politely. "Hello. I am Ethan Raynor."


    Maya, shocked to see Ethan Raynor at her boss''s home, took a moment to regain herposure. "Hello. It''s nice to meet you. I am Maya Patel."


    Eleanor turned to Ethan. "When did youe?"


    "Not long ago. I wanted to give you a list of schools in the area. Freya should start her schooling as we discussed earlier. I sorted out the ten best options for you to consider." He handed her a folded paper from his pocket.


    Eleanor took the list. "I was thinking about that, but you know how busy my days were. Thank you. But I am slightly concerned about her security at school."


    Ethan reassured her. "Don''t worry. Grandma will dispatch some shadow guards for her. I spoke to her today. She will be back from Germany tomorrow. You can discuss it with her then."


    Eleanor nodded. "Okay. I''ll take it from here." She handed the list to Maya. "Maya, call all these schools and set appointments starting the day after tomorrow. The sooner, the better."


    Maya responded, "Okay. Consider it done." She then walked back to the lounge downstairs.


    Ethan said, "Go freshen up. I''ll y with her for a while."


    Eleanor went to her room, took a long bath, and changed intofortable homewear. When she came out, she found Freya ying with Maya, and Ethan was gone.


    Maya informed her, "Mr. Raynor said he has a meeting but will be avable by phone."


    Eleanor nodded in acknowledgment. Then, turning to Freya, she said, "Why are you only solving puzzles with Maya? Go to the music room and learn piano from her. You are a good singer, but being proficient in an instrument will help you with your singing too."


    She then turned to Maya. "Maya, I am going to the study. Stay until dinner. I might have more work for you."


    Maya groaned. "Nooo, I don''t want to work anymore."


    Eleanor ignored herints and walked to the study. She spent time rearranging her schedule and future ns. Just as she was about to leave, Teresa called to inform her that she had secured the targeted 30% shares of Sage Enterprise. Both parties woulde to Heimdall tomorrow.


    Relieved, Eleanor left the study in a good mood, had dinner, and then saw Maya off. Before she left, she demanded to know the rtionship between Ethan and her. She said the same she told to Teresa.


    The next morning, when Eleanor arrived at Heimdall, she found that the director of Sage was already waiting. After settling into her office, she called her legal team and instructed them to bring the director in.


    A few minutester, they entered the room. Eleanor stood up and greeted them. "Wee to Heimdall. I am Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, Chairman of Heimdall Technologies. It''s nice to meet you."


    There were two of them. One extended his hand. "I am Elijah Hughes, Director of Sage Enterprise. It''s a pleasure to be here."


    The other man extended his hand as well. "I am Isaac Cooper, also a director of Sage."


    Eleanor shook their hands calmly, though she was slightly surprised to see both directors. She had targeted Elijah, who held 20% of the shares, but she knew from the documents that Isaac held 16%.


    Maintaining herposed demeanor, she said, "Gentlemen, please sit. I won''t waste your time, so I''ll get straight to the point. Mr. Hughes, you agreed to sell all of your shares at yesterday''s starting price, correct?"


    Elijah nodded. "Correct."


    Eleanor turned to herwyer. "Please pass our prepared agreement to Mr. Hughes. And please read carefully before signing. We will process the payment immediately."


    While Elijah reviewed the agreement, Eleanor turned to Isaac. "Mr. Cooper, I''m curious as to why you''re apanying Mr. Hughes."


    Isaac replied, "I came to sell 10% of my shares in Sage. I heard from Elijah that your offer is better. Plus, I don''t believe Sage will prosper under Henry Wilson''s leadership. His family holds over 40% of the shares, so I can''t push him out. It''s better to make a solid profit now and invest elsewhere."


    Eleanor considered this for a moment. "Then why are you selling only 10%? I know you hold 16%."


    Isaac sighed. "My father was one of Sage''s founders. I want to keep a small stake for sentimental reasons. Elijah told me you were only interested in 10%."


    Eleanor smiled slightly. "Yesterday, I wanted 10%. But now, since you''re willing to sell, I want all 16%. If you really want to retain something, then sell me 15% and keep just 1%."


    Isaac instantly agreed. "That sounds fair. I agree. Will the price be the same as Elijah''s?"


    "Of course," Eleanor confirmed, then turned to herwyer. "Prepare a new contract for Mr. Cooper and arrange for some refreshments."


    The contracts were soon signed, and the legal teampleted all necessary formalities.


    Just as the two directors left, Teresa informed Eleanor that the chairman of Techno Club was waiting in the 19th-floor meeting room.


    Eleanor quickly proceeded to the meeting, efficiently finalizing the documentation for the 51% share transfer andpleting all formalities.


    Returning to her office, Eleanor asked, "Teresa, how many shares of Sage were we able to secure today?"


    Teresa checked her phone. "Today, we acquired 11.2% from the market, 35% from the directors, and with yesterday''s 18.5%, we now own 64.7% of Sage Enterprise."


    As they discussed the acquisition, Teresa received a call. After a brief conversation, she turned to Eleanor. "The chairman''s wife didn''te as nned. Instead, she sent herwyer to Heimdall. He''s on the 19th floor now."


    "I''ll handle it," Teresa said, heading downstairs.


    Ten minutester, she returned. "Herwyer came to verify our ims regarding the son of her husband''s mistress. I showed him the DNA report confirming the child''s paternity. Once he authenticated the test results, she agreed to sell her shares at today''s market price in exchange for the report. Ourwyer has gone to finalize the signing."


    After two hours, thewyer returned with the signed documents. Eleanor sighed in relief. "This brings our ownership of Sage Enterprise to 74.7%. I am authorizing you to take over thepany." She handed Teresa an authorization document. "Call all shareholders of Sage for an emergency general meeting tomorrow morning. Offer to buy their remaining shares at the pre-fall price. Also, transfer Sage''s video processing team and all rted resources to Heimdall."


    Teresa assured her, "Don''t worry. Count on me. You should focus on tomorrow''s school visits."


    Eleanor almost forgot about that. "Thanks for the reminder," she said, already thinking about the big day ahead.

 Chapter 20: Schools

    <h4>Chapter 20 - Schools</h4>


    In just two days, Heimdall Technologies went from an unknownpany to the market leader in the region. They had sessfully acquired eight otherpanies and taken over three more.


    Waking up in the morning, Eleanor felt a sense of aplishment. "Now that we have almost every hardware and software supply line under our fold, we can definitely build our own AI within a year," she thought.


    She shook the stray thoughts from her mind and focused on her daughter. Freya was everything to her. She had chosen the life of a werewolf to save her, and she would not stop until she saw with her own eyes her baby girl grow into a strong woman. Yes, she had a clear goal. That had never changed.


    After breakfast, she went to her study to review the kindergartens before deciding which ones to visit. She swiftly hacked into their surveince systems and observed their activities carefully.


    After a while, she was utterly disappointed. Among the ten schools on the list, eight had serious security issues. There were several blind spots in their surveince, and in some, the teachers'' quality raised red gs in her mind.


    Only two stood out as worth visiting: Fallowfield Girls Academy and Heaton Mersey Independent School. One was near her vi, while the other was near her office.


    After making her decision, she called Maya and asked her to adjust the schedule to visit only those two schools. Maya quickly made the arrangements and canceled the other appointments.


    At ten in the morning, Eleanor stopped her car in front of Fallowfield Girls Academy. Today, she dressed casually and did not bring her security team because she didn''t want to cause a scene at her daughter''s school. She wanted Freya to have a normal schooling experience like the other children in her ss.


    If she unted her wealth, the teachers might treat Freya differently, which could hinder her ability to form rtionships with her ssmates. Some children might envy her, while opportunistic parents might encourage their children to befriend her for personal gain. Both situations would make it difficult for Freya to enjoy a normal childhood.


    The front guards saw her Range Rover and politely asked for the reason for her visit. They then pointed her toward the reception desk.


    When she arrived at the reception, she saw a young woman sitting behind the desk, absentmindedly polishing her nails. Eleanor stepped forward.


    The receptionist nced at her with evident boredom and asked, "Reason?"


    Eleanor replied, "I have an appointment with the headmaster."


    The woman cut her off. "Reason?" she repeated.


    Eleanor was taken aback. She involuntarily checked her dress... it was fine. Though not from a major brand, it was a custom-made and expensive outfit devoid of any dirt or spots.


    She shook her head slightly and replied, "I came to discuss my daughter''s admission."


    The receptionist scoffed. "The admission window is closed. You have to apply for September or January."


    "Please inform the headmaster that I have arrived. I had a prior appointment with him."


    "Okay, okay," the receptionist sighed before reaching for the inte. Just as she was about to make the call, a bulky middle-aged woman barged in and nearly pushed Eleanor aside. She shouted, "Receptionist, call my daughter''s homeroom teacher. I want to take her shopping."


    The receptionist''s demeanor instantly changed. She stood up hurriedly, her voice polite and enthusiastic. "Mrs. Brown, please wait a moment. I''ll arrange it right away."


    She then turned to Eleanor and said rudely, "Didn''t you see Mrs. Brown standing here? Why didn''t you make space for her? Move aside."


    Eleanor''s blood boiled at the tant rudeness, but she controlled herself. "You didn''t tell me when I can meet the headmaster."


    "He''s busy right now. Go to the first floor and wait in front of Room 201."


    Just as Eleanor turned to leave, the receptionist muttered under her breath, "Such upstarts. They strike a bit of money and think they can buy their way into prestigious schools."


    With her enhanced wolf hearing, Eleanor heard every word. She ignored thement and went upstairs. When she reached Room 201, she heard muffled noises... soft moansing from inside. Her face flushed.


    The school was in session, and the headmaster was engaged in such activities?


    Eleanor pondered the situation for a moment before making a decision. This school would not be suitable for her daughter. Without hesitation, she walked back to her car and drove away.


    She went directly to Heaton Mersey Independent School. Although her appointment was at 11, she arrived early. Unlike the previous school, there was no guard standing at the entrance. She confidently walked in. Just as she was about to enter the building, a uniformed middle-aged guard emerged from the gate and politely stopped her.


    "Miss, you seem new here. Please state the purpose of your visit."


    Eleanor was surprised. "How do you know I''m new?"


    The guard pointed toward the gate. "Did you see the box beside the entrance? That''s the guard station. Parents must report their reason for visiting during school hours. A duty guard then informs the appropriate office and directs them."


    "Oh! That exins why I didn''t see anyone standing at the gate. I sensed someone inside the box, but I assumed I could go directly to the reception."


    She smiled and continued, "Actually, I have an appointment with the headmistress at 11 regarding my daughter''s admission. I arrived early."


    The guard smiled. "It''s okay. I''m the guard captain here. You''ve chosen the best school in the area for your daughter."


    He hesitated for a moment before asking, "May I ask you a personal question?"


    Eleanor nodded. She had a feeling she knew what he was about to ask. "Go ahead."


    "I know you''re an Alpha. I am one too. You must have sensed it. But I feel an urge to bow to you... you''re much stronger than me despite being younger. May I know your name? By the way, I''m Emmanuel Lowe, firstborn of n Head Edward Lowe."


    Eleanor''s mind quickly recalled everything she knew about the Lowe n. They were from Stockport, which meant their home was nearby. They were a peace-loving pack that didn''t meddle in other packs'' affairs. They primarily operated within the country, running a reputedw firm, and many of their members worked in various government departments.


    "I am Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor," she said.


    Emmanuel''s eyes widened in shock. He knew what "Elizabeth" meant. All adult wolves did. They were taught by their elders never to cross an Elizabeth, no matter how harmless she appeared. Elizabeths were super Alphas, possessing powerful ancient bloodlines. Some elders even said, "If you harm an Elizabeth, the Raynors will eliminate your bloodline to thest stray member."


    He quickly ced his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. "It''s an honor to meet the distinguished Elizabeth of the Raynor n. Please forgive myck of preparation... I never expected to meet someone of your standing here."


    Eleanor smiled. "It''s fine. I am here as a member of human society. Besides, under Grandma Fiona''s rule, there''s no room for arrogant or pompous behavior. No Raynor will mind your conduct."


    At that moment, Emmanuel''s radio buzzed. "Captain, is there a problem? Should we mobilize the team?"


    Emmanuel hurriedly pressed the button and replied, "No need. She''s a friend. We were just catching up."


    He turned to Eleanor, looking embarrassed. "Apologies. My team is just following protocol."


    "It''s fine. In fact, I''m pleased with their response. It means my daughter will be safe here," Eleanor said with a neutral expression. There was no sign of emotion on her face.

 Chapter 21: Donation

    <h4>Chapter 21 - Donation</h4>


    Eleanor looked at her wristwatch; there were still a few minutes left before her meeting. Deciding to use the time wisely, she turned to Emmanuel, curious about his role at the school and his decision to work as a guard despite his high standing.


    "Why are you working as a guard here instead of managing your n business?" she asked.


    Emmanuel smiled warmly. "I was in the police service for a long time. When I turned 50 in human records, I decided to retire early and join this school. You might not know, but this school was actually established by our family. Our younger generation studies here and learns how to blend with humans from an early age."


    "Some of our fighters work as guards to protect the children from any potential harm. As for me, I joined to stay close to my granddaughter. She''s very attached to me and refused to attend school without me. So, I decided to retire from the police force and take the role of guard captain here. Everybody knows the story by now."


    Eleanor smiled. "You must really love your granddaughter."


    "She''s my treasure," Emmanuel replied proudly. "She''ll be six next month."


    "That''s wonderful," Eleanor said before pausing. "By the way, is it possible to enroll my daughter directly, outside the usual admission window? Sorry to ask so suddenly."


    Emmanuel chuckled. "It''s okay. Since the admission window is closed, the only way to enroll her now is through a donation. But this school doesn''t ept money as donations. You need to contribute something significant to the school''s development. Of course, my father could make a call to the headmistress if you want, and everything would be taken care of."


    Eleanor thought for a moment, then said, "Your surveince system is outdated. Before I arrived here, I hacked into it to observe the school. If you''re interested, I can provide one of the world''s best surveince systems for free. You can search mypany, Heimdall Technologies, to know more."


    "Heimdall is yourpany?" Emmanuel looked stunned. "No wonder I''ve been hearing about it for the past two days. You know, a lot of wealthy families have children studying here, and they gossip about all kinds of things. The news about Heimdall taking over the regional business sector is thetest hot topic. Most importantly, nobody knows who the boss of Heimdall is."


    He paused for a moment, then said, "We can talk moreter. Your meeting time is near."


    Turning on his radio, Emmanuel spoke, "Mili,e to the main gate. I have a guest who needs to be escorted to the headmistress''s office."


    He then turned to Eleanor. "It''s a good deal. Go and meet the headmistress. I''ll call my father before your meeting and try to arrange your daughter''s admission."


    He handed her his phone. "Please scan this to add me on WhatsApp. We can talk moreter."


    Momentster, a young female guard arrived and saluted Emmanuel.


    "Mili," Emmanuel said, "she''s my friend. Please escort her to the headmistress''s office."


    "Okay," Mili replied. "Please follow me."


    Eleanor followed Mili inside the building. When they arrived at a in-looking room, Mili stopped and said, "This is the headmistress''s office. Please wait here; someone will call you in soon."


    "Do I need to knock?" Eleanor asked.


    "No need," Mili replied. "An assistant already saw you on the surveince feed." With that, she left.


    After a few moments, a young woman opened the door. "Did youe to meet our headmistress?" she asked.


    "Yes," Eleanor replied. "My name is Eleanor, and I have an appointment."


    "Oh! You''re five minutes early. Pleasee in," the assistant said, gesturing for Eleanor to follow her.


    Eleanor was directed to a waiting area. She sat in a chair there. After some time, another assistant appeared from an inner room.


    "Miss Eleanor Raynor, pleasee in. Madam is waiting for you."


    Inside the office, Eleanor found a schrly-looking elderly woman seated behind a desk, sses perched low on her nose.


    "I am Ste Rimington, Headmistress of this school. Please have a seat," she said.


    "Thank you," Eleanor replied as she sat down.


    "You asked for a meeting regarding your daughter''s admission, correct?" Ste asked.


    "Yes," Eleanor confirmed.


    "Was there a problem with her current school?"


    "No, we recently moved here from the US. My daughter was homeschooled before this."


    "I see," Ste said thoughtfully. "In that case, we''ll need to assess her before deciding which ss she should join. Also, I believe you know our admission window is currently closed. However, just before you arrived, the chairman of the board informed me that you''re offering to provide us with a new surveince system. Is that correct?"


    "Yes," Eleanor confirmed. "Our system is one of the most advanced avable. It includes an AI that can detect security breaches or protocol vitions in real-time. For example, if one of your students suddenly faints on campus, the AI will immediately alert you and provide live video footage of the student. It''s highly customizable to meet your school''s specific needs."


    Ste''s eyes widened. "That sounds incredible. Please donate the system, and I''ll ensure your daughter''s admission is processed without issue."


    "Thank you," Eleanor said. "I''ll arrange for my team from Heimdall Technologies to meet you soon. One request, though... we''re developing this system for security agencies, and while it''s currently in use at our offices, it''s not avable on the market yet. I''d appreciate it if you didn''t publicize this donation."


    Ste nodded. "That''s understandable. Please bring your daughter tomorrow at 10 for her assessment. We''ll ce her with some iing transfer students next week to avoid suspicion or unwanted attention."


    Eleanor smiled gratefully. After discussing the school''s rules and facilities, she bid farewell and left the office.


    Later, at her own office, Lily greeted her with updates.


    "We''ve acquired 11.9% of HFCL''s total shares," Lily reported. "We''re sending someone to finalize the deal.


    Eleanor said, "It''s okay. Decide for yourself as long as you can. Since our team is capable of handling such matters, I suggest leaving the matter to them."


    Teresa also informed Eleanor that twelve directors from the previously acquiredpanies had agreed to join Heimdall Technologies. Teresa proposed giving them positions that held shares rather than directly transferring ownership.


    Eleanor agreed. "That sounds smart. Just make sure they sign confidentiality agreements first," she reminded.


    After reviewing all the documents at hand, Eleanor finally headed home, feeling satisfied with her progress.


    Since she had driven here on her own, she decided to visit Padilly before returning home. She needed to buy some clothes, a bag, and some supplies for Freya''s school.


    Due to the shortage of parking space, she left her car behind and walked to the Louis Vuitton store to buy a backpack and some stationery items for Freya.

 Chapter 22: Shopping

    <h4>Chapter 22 - Shopping</h4>


    Eleanor looked at the copper-colored storefront after more than five years. They hadn''t changed the design a bit, just the art pieces had been reced. "The old ones were better," she thought.


    She walked in and noticed that the interior had changed significantly since herst visit. There were new types of products on disy, and the overallyout seemed more modern. She scanned the store until her eyesnded on a section showcasing several backpacks.


    She walked over to the rack and picked up a pink backpack. A salesgirl quickly approached her with a polite smile.


    "Miss, this is an excellent choice, but it might not be suitable for you. This backpack is designed for younger girls. If you don''t mind, we have a simr design that would be more appropriate for you. May I show you?" the salesgirl offered.


    "It''s okay. I wanted to buy it for my daughter. Can you tell me more details about this one?" Eleanor asked.


    "Certainly, Miss. This bag is made of organic cotton and natural cowhide leather. The straps are adjustable but non-removable. It is crafted in France and designed to be both stylish and durable," the salesgirl exined.


    At that moment, a sarcastic voice came from behind. "Oh my! Isn''t this Eleanor Whitmore? I heard you were expelled from your family and ran away. Do you even have the money to buy something from Louis Vuitton? If not, don''t dirty the store. Hey, you, salesgirl, send this poor woman out."


    Eleanor turned around and saw her former school senior, Willow White, standing there with a middle-aged man. Willow had been her stepsister Jennifer''s ssmate and had taken every opportunity to bully her in the past. Now that Eleanor thought about it, her ex-fianc¨¦, James, had won her heart by always protecting her from bullying. It must have all been a setup, and she had unknowingly fallen into their trap.


    She merely nced at Willow and then ignored her. She had no interest in talking to the likes of her and focused on the bag instead. She just wanted to finish her purchase and leave the store.


    However, Willow wasn''t ready to let it go. She had enjoyed bullying Eleanor in the past, and there was no reason for her to stop now. She was here with her new boyfriend, a manager at NexaByte Technologies who earned a six-figure sry. He even had a Louis Vuitton membership card, which made her feel even more superior.


    "Oh! Are you ying deaf now? No matter how hard you try, you can''t afford that bag. You''re no longer the young miss of the Whitmore family. You''re nothing but a poor beggar on the street," she sneered.


    Receiving no reaction from Eleanor, Willow turned her fury on the salesgirl. "Hey, you! Can you not hear me? Why are you still attending to this worthless woman? Come and help me instead!" she demanded.


    The salesgirl maintained her professionalism. "Miss, everyone is a customer. She arrived first, so I am attending to her. There are other sales assistants avable. If you can''t find someone right away, please wait. I''ll assist you as soon as I''m finished here."


    "Oh! Now a mere salesgirl is talking back to me? Do you know who I am? I am the eldest daughter of the White family! I could have you fired with just one phone call!" Willow shouted.


    Hearing this, Eleanor couldn''t stay silent any longer. She turned to Willow with an icy re and said, "Why are you picking a fight with this innocent girl? She''s just doing her job. If you really have the power, then try and throw me out yourself."


    That single look sent a shiver down Willow''s spine. She couldn''t understand why she was feeling such oppressive energy from Eleanor, whom she had known since childhood. Meek and easy to bully. But she wasn''t one to back down easily. Angrily, she turned and marched toward the counter.


    Eleanor looked at the salesgirl and said, "I''ll take this backpack. Please process my payment. And if you ever face trouble because of this incident,e find me at Heimdall Technologies. I appreciate your courage and dedication to your job."


    Meanwhile, Willow reached the counter and shouted, "Where is your manager? Call him right now!"


    The store manager, a middle-aged man with a slightly protruding belly, came out from the storeroom upon hearing themotion. "Miss, what seems to be the problem? I am the manager here. If you have aint, we can resolve it in a civil manner," he said.


    Willow pointed at Eleanor and dered, "I want that woman thrown out of this store! And I want that arrogant salesgirl fired immediately!"


    The manager frowned. "Miss, everyone is a valued customer here. If she has caused you any trouble, I will handle it fairly. But could you exin what exactly happened?"


    Willow scoffed. "I already told you! She''s been expelled from her family, which means she can''t afford anything here. I told your salesgirl to kick her out and attend to me, but she ignored me!"


    The manager sighed, trying to remain neutral. "Miss, please don''t be upset. She''s new here. I''ll attend to you personally. What would you like?"


    "Who asked for your help?! I said, throw that woman out!" Willow snapped.


    The manager was now in a tough spot. He didn''t want to offend a membership cardholder, but kicking someone out without cause would damage the store''s reputation. After thinking for a moment, he decided on a middle ground. He turned to Eleanor and said, "Miss, this backpack costs 2,500 pounds. If you can''t pay, I suggest you leave and find a cheaper store. Please don''t disturb our VIP customers."


    Eleanor sighed. She didn''t want to cause a scene, but her patience had limits. She handed the manager her ck Card and said, "Okay. Pack the bag and process my payment."


    The manager froze. His hands trembled as he recognized the card in front of him. Cold sweat trickled down his back. An American Express ck Card wasn''t something just anyone could get. It was only issued to those with an extraordinary worth, and it didn''t even have a preset credit limit.


    Realizing his mistake, the manager quickly changed his attitude. "I-I''m terribly sorry, Miss. Please forgive my earlier behavior. If you''d like, I can assist you with anything else. And this bag is a gift from the store as an apology for the inconvenience you faced."


    Eleanor shook her head. "No need. I don''t have time for more shopping. Just pack the bag andplete the payment."


    "O-of course! Thank you, Miss!" the manager stammered before hurrying off to retrieve a fresh bag.


    Willow''s boyfriend, sensing something was wrong, pulled her away. Though he hadn''t seen the ck Card himself, the manager''s panicked reaction told him everything he needed to know. His precious membership card was worthless inparison.


    Ignoring Willow''s protests, he dragged her out of the store, leaving Eleanor in peace to finalize her purchase.

 Chapter 23: Enemy

    <h4>Chapter 23 - Enemy</h4>


    Willow White''s mood was terrible. After returning home, she furiously threw several items on the floor, breaking them in an attempt to diminish her anger. Her boyfriend had warned her to stay away from Eleanor, hinting that she had powerful backing from somewhere.


    Although Eleanor had been a school beauty back then, she seemed to have bloomed even more now. She was more stunning than before, and there was an air of confidence around her that only enhanced her beauty further. Willow couldn''t deny the jealousy boiling inside her when she caught her boyfriend secretly ogling Eleanor from behind. In fact, she had only noticed Eleanor today because she had been following her boyfriend''s line of sight. That had been thest straw.


    Her fury intensified as she recalled the scene at the store. The day had started so well... she had been overjoyed when her boyfriend promised to buy her a bag and some essories from Louis Vuitton while they were at the hotelst night. But that vixen had ruined everything. In the end, she hadn''t even had the chance to buy the bag she had been eyeing for months.


    After finally calming down, Willow picked up her phone and called Jennifer Whitmore, informing her about her encounter with Eleanor. Of course, she left out the embarrassing details of the confrontation. She didn''t particrly like Jennifer, but since the White family''s business was linked with the Whitmores, her father had ordered her to maintain a friendly rtionship. After all, their family was financially weaker than the Whitmores and heavily dependent on them.


    Once Jennifer confirmed that Eleanor had truly returned, she immediately called her father.


    "Dad, Eleanor is back in Manchester. Willow saw her at Louis Vuitton today, buying an expensive bag," Jennifer reported.


    "Are you sure?" William Whitmore''s voice was filled with disbelief. "The police couldn''t find her back then, even after issuing a search warrant across the kingdom."


    "I''m sure, Dad. Willow even spoke to her to confirm her identity."


    William gnashed his teeth in frustration. "Why did that bitch have to return now of all times? It''s been six years! The board agreed to appoint me as custodian for seven years. Just one more year, and I could have legally inherited her shares. I didn''t want to show my hand with the documents I had her sign, but she''s forcing me. Those old fools on the board will never support me if they know Eleanor is alive... they were all loyal to her mother."


    Jennifer hesitated for a moment before asking, "What do we do now?"


    William took a deep breath. "Let me think. Call James this evening. We need to prepare for this unexpected situation."


    ***


    A few hourster, William, Jennifer, Jeanne, and James were gathered in his study for a serious discussion.


    "Dad, I went to Louis Vuitton with Willow and checked their CCTV footage. It was definitely Eleanor. She even purchased a bag worth 2,500 pounds," Jennifer said.


    Jeanne''s face twisted in anger. "Why didn''t that bitch just die all these years? Where could she have possibly hidden that the police couldn''t find her? I thought she had either perished in some ident or killed herself out of shame."


    James scoffed. "The important thing is that she spent more than two thousand on a bag. That means she has financial support. With her looks, she probably found herself a wealthy sugar daddy after running away."


    Jeanne sneered. "Who in their right mind would take her as a mistress? Her rape and pregnancy scandal was all over the news back then."


    William rubbed his temples. "We shouldn''t waste time specting about her past. What matters is why she''se back now. There''s still one year left before she would have been presumed dead. I suspect that someone on the board is involved in this. One of the directors must have discovered our scheme and protected her all these years. I checked Eleanor''s call records before she disappeared... no one except us had contacted her. So who could be powerful enough to orchestrate this?"


    Jennifer pursed her lips. "I suspect Elliot Grant. He holds the second-highest share after us, 16%. He was also the one who proposed the seven-year presumed death rule, which limited you to being just a custodian and temporary chairman."


    William''s eyes darkened. "How many shares have you managed to buy from the market so far?"


    "Just over 8%," Jennifer replied.


    William nodded. "With Eleanor''s 35% under my name and your 8%, that makes a total of 43%. We still need support from other shareholders to secure a majority. We have to prepare for the worst. If we have to show our hand, we must ensure we win. I''ll work on securing additional support. Jennifer, as the general manager, you need to reach out to other shareholders discreetly. Be careful not to reveal too much."


    Jennifer nodded. "I understand, Dad. I''ll be cautious."


    William turned to James. "I need you to contact your underground connections. If we can eliminate her quietly before she reims her shares, we''ll avoid a lot of trouble."


    James smirked. "Understood, Uncle. But after ourst investment in Chen Group, my family is short on funds. You''ll need to provide some financial backing."


    William waved a hand dismissively. "Don''t worry. When the timees, send your men to me... I''ll handle the rest."


    Jeanne added coldly, "James, this time, make sure she''s dead. Don''t believe anything unless you see the body with your own eyes."


    James nodded. "Don''t worry, Aunt. I''ll confirm her death personally before disposal."


    William exhaled deeply. "Also, try to find out exactly who is backing her. I''ll send someone to monitor Elliot Grant''s movements."


    After further discussion, the meeting concluded, and everyone dispersed to handle their respective tasks.


    ***


    The next morning, Eleanor was preparing to take Freya to school for her assessment when Ethan arrived at the vi.


    "Freya, are you ready for school?" Ethan asked, taking a few nces at Eleanor. She was wearing a light green casual suit, her lips lightly colored with lipstick. She looked captivating. Though he wanted to admire her longer, he restrained himself, not wanting to appear indecent.


    Freya pouted, clinging to him. "Daddy, I don''t want to go to school! Mommy said I''ll read, write, and y games there, but I can do that at home too. Why do I have to go?"


    Seeing her small pout, Ethan chuckled. "But at school, you''ll make lots of new friends. It''s much more fun! Daddy went to school at your age, and so did Mommy."


    Freya huffed. "But I have fun at home too."


    Eleanor crouched beside her daughter and gently stroked her hair. "Sweetie, we talked about thisst night. It''s only for a few hours. Mommy will drop you off and pick you up every day. You''re always home alone during my work hours... this way, you''ll have friends instead of being by yourself."


    Ethan said, "Since it''s her assessment day, I thought I''de along. Otherwise, people might think her father doesn''t care about her."


    Eleanor nced at him, her heart warming at his thoughtfulness. Though she didn''t express it, she appreciated his efforts. Ethan had been pursuing her for a long time, but she had yet to give in. She wanted the best for Freya and didn''t need a man to provide it.


    However, she had noticed the growing bond between Ethan and Freya. As a werewolf, she wasn''t sure if her daughter''s attachment was entirely voluntary or if the alpha-parent bond yed a role. Ethan didn''t know that she had already epted him as Freya''s father... she was just hesitant about making him her husband.


    Shaking off her thoughts, she followed Ethan to the car. He secured Freya in the baby seat, waited for Eleanor to settle in, and then got into the driver''s seat. Their journey to school began.

 Chapter 24: Schemes

    <h4>Chapter 24 - Schemes</h4>


    Eleanor sat anxiously in the waiting room of Heaton Mersey Independent School. Although the headmistress, Ste Rimington, had reassured her that there was nothing to worry about, she couldn''t help but feel uneasy. It was just an assessment to determine Freya''s ssroom cement, yet she found herself ncing at her wristwatch repeatedly, counting down the fifteen minutes as if they stretched into an eternity.


    Finally, after what seemed like forever, Freya appeared in the waiting room, apanied by a teacher. She looked perfectly fine as she walked straight into her mother''s embrace.


    The teacher smiled warmly. "Although she surpassed the level of a third-grade student during the assessment, considering her age, we''ve decided to enroll her in first grade. The children in that ss will be around six to seven years old. Otherwise, she might feel lonely among older ssmates."


    Ethan stood up and extended his hand. "Thank you, Miss. What should we do next?"


    The teacher replied, "We''ve already informed the admissions office, which is right beside the main entrance. If you head there now, they will guide you through the next steps."


    After expressing their gratitude, the trio made their way to the admissions office. By the time they finished all the paperwork and emerged from the school, it was already close to noon.


    Ethan turned to Eleanor. "Grandma is in town. If you don''t have any urgent matters to attend to, let''s have lunch at her vi."


    Eleanor hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay."


    Freya pped her hands excitedly. "Yay! I want to see Great-Grandma!"


    Ethan chuckled. "Alright then, let''s go."


    He helped them into the car and drove towards the outskirts of the city, where Fiona Raynor''s vi stood amidst lush greenery.


    ***


    As soon as they arrived, Fiona opened the door, her eyes lighting up as she saw her great-granddaughter. "My dear Freya! Did you miss your old great-grandma?"


    Freya threw herself into Fiona''s arms. "I missed you one million¡ªno, one trillion!"


    Fionaughed heartily. "Well then, let''s go inside. I''ll make your favorite chicken noodle soup."


    Freya beamed. "I love Great-Grandma''s chicken noodle soup! Mommy can''t make it as delicious as you do."


    Eleanor yfully frowned. "Hey! Don''t badmouth me. I cook plenty of delicious dishes for you."


    Freya pouted. "But Great-Grandma is the best."


    Fiona smirked. "Eleanor, just ept your defeat. I am the best!"


    Everyoneughed as they entered the vi. While Fiona went into the kitchen to prepare lunch, Eleanor followed her, leaving Freya in Ethan''s care.


    As Freya busied herself watching cartoons, Ethan''s phone buzzed. Recognizing the number, he stepped outside, making sure Eleanor wouldn''t overhear him¡ªeven with her enhanced werewolf hearing.


    "Mr. Raynor," came a hushed voice from the other end. "The Whitmore family is on the move. One of my colleagues has started investigating Miss Eleanor again, unofficially. They''re currently trying to track her movements using yesterday''s CCTV footage from Padilly."


    Ethan''s expression darkened. "Understood. I''ll take care of it. Keep me updated."


    He ended the call and immediately dialed another number. "I''ll send you a bug. Make sure it gets nted in William Whitmore''s phone. Just insert it into his charging port. It won''t interfere with the phone''s function, but it''ll give us ess to all hismunications."


    After issuing the instructions, he made a third call. "The time hase. Present that investment opportunity to Jennifer Whitmore. Make sure she invests every penny of their cash reserves. If you can push them to mortgage their properties for a bigger investment, there''s an additional reward in it for you."


    ***


    Meanwhile, across the city, James Clifford sat in his private vi, rocking in his chair while smoking a cigarette. He contemted his next move.


    "Eleanor must resent me after our breakup," he mused, exhaling a plume of smoke. "But I yed my part well. I ended things after she got pregnant... it was the logical thing to do. There''s no way she could know about my involvement in her kidnapping and assault."


    His fingers tightened around the cigarette as he recalled those events. Even now, he shivered when thinking about Jennifer''s ruthlessness. It had been her idea of rape and inject Eleanor with a high dose of Clomiphene before the assault, increasing the chances of pregnancy.


    Although he had some issues with Eleanor, that stubborn girl never gave him a chance beyond a few kisses. Many times, he wanted to sleep with her, but she was old-fashioned and insisted that it should be saved for marriage. Every time, he had to release his frustration on Jennifer. It was a pity that her first time had been stolen by those thugs.


    At first, he wasn''t involved with Jennifer. Jeanne, his mother''s cousin, was technically his aunt. One day, she approached him with a proposal that could benefit them both. She suggested that James pursue a romantic rtionship with Eleanor, the primary heir to her family''s business. Since James was the fourth son of the Clifford family, his chances of inheriting their business were slim due to his three older brothers. Considering this, he agreed.


    But none of this would have happened if it weren''t for Eleanor. It began on her birthday, years ago, when they were still teenagers. Eleanor''s bosom had just begun to bloom, soft curves visible beneath the fabric of her dress... a detail he couldn''t unsee. Later that night, after the party guests had left, he slipped into her room. They kissed as they often did, but this time, his hands drifted lower, eager to explore what her new silhouette promised. Eleanor stiffened. She shoved him away, her voice sharp as shattered ss. "Not before marriage," she hissed. "Never."


    And just like that, she''d drawn a line in the sand... one he''d spent years resenting.


    Frustration seethed in James'' chest as he stormed out of Eleanor''s room. The hallway air felt cold, sharp against his heated skin... until Jennifer appeared. Her voice was a balm, soft and coaxing, her touch steadying his restless hands. He didn''t remember agreeing to follow her, yet suddenly they were in her room, the door clicking shut behind them. Words dissolved. Then her lips were on his, a spark to tinder, and every thread of restraint unraveled.


    It was clumsy, their first time... a fumbling exploration guided by half-remembered scenes from films they''d watched in secret. Awkwardughter mingled with gasped breaths as they navigated unfamiliar terrain. No theory could have prepared them for the reality: the trembling, the missed rhythms, the way urgency shed with hesitation. Yet in that haze of curiosity and rebellion, they pressed on, chasing a fleeting escape from the anger that had started it all.


    After the defloration, Jennifer took the lead and rode on top. They both were young, and she was wild. James had sex with many girls after that, but no one was as active as Jennifer. That night, they tried side by side, sixty-nine, from behind, seated and many other positions. Due to Jennifer''s encouragements they also did anal that night. Although he had some reservations about this particr way of sex, after the pration and several thrusts, he enjoyed it more. Now, sometimes he goes to Brazil only to have anal sex. In his view, there was no ass like a Brazilian in the whole world.


    That night, he lost count of how many times he erected inside and outside of her holes. There were many times, Jennifer took the lead to eat his sperm. Due to the excited states of their minds, they lost track of time. I was when the daylight came in from the window, they felt that they were dead tired after a long nightly activity. James had no energy to go to his home. So, he went to the guest room to sleep as he had stayed there before.


    What they didn''t know was that due to their inexperience, Jennifer''s moan was so loud that it was heard from outside the room. When Jeanne came to check on Jennifer before sleep, she heard it. They also didn''t turn off the light or lock the door. Jeanne slightly opened the door to check. When she saw her daughter with James, she locked the door and went to her room silently.


    Instead of being furious, she saw an opportunity. The next day, she called them into Jennifer''s room, and their ns took a darker turn. Jeanne convinced them that Eleanor needed to be removed from the equation. From that moment on, there was no turning back.


    James snapped back to the present, stubbing out his cigarette. He pulled out his phone and dialed an overseas number.


    "Eleanor Whitmore is alive. She''s in Manchester," he said tly. "I want her eliminated as soon as possible."

 Chapter 25: Gift

    <h4>Chapter 25 - Gift</h4>


    James heard no reply from the other side, so he added, "Last time, I paid for the kidnapping and rape case... same woman."


    A rough voice answered, "100,000 pounds. You know the rate. My people will be at Manchester Arndale tomorrow at noon."


    James smirked. "No problem. Send your men to William Whitmore. I''ll inform him about the payment."


    There was a low, mechanical chuckle on the other end of the line before the call disconnected. James leaned back, exhaling deeply. "This time, Eleanor, you won''t escape."


    He dialed William''s number. "Uncle, the deal is set. Keep 100,000 pounds in cash in a bag and go shopping at Manchester Arndale tomorrow between 12 and 1 PM. Someone will approach you at their convenience."


    "Okay. I''ll be there. Will youe?" William replied.


    James said, "No, Uncle. I have a meeting with the Chen Group tomorrow. You know how important it is for me."


    He paused, then added, "Don''t worry. They are professionals. You saw their workst time."


    "Okay," William ended the call.


    ***


    Back at Fiona''s vi, lunch was finally ready. As they sat around the table, Fiona served steaming bowls of her famous chicken noodle soup along with several side dishes.


    Ethan watched Eleanor as she helped Freya with her meal, a soft smile on his lips. "She has no idea of the storming her way. But I will be ready. No one will take Eleanor away from me... not this time. And if the Whitmores think they can scheme against her so easily, they are gravely mistaken," he thought.


    In the kitchen earlier, Eleanor updated Fiona about herpany and discussed several strategies. Fiona had been in the business sector for over 300 years. Although she mostly worked in the shadows now, she remained well-informed about the current marketndscape.


    After the meal, Ethan took Eleanor and Freya back to their vi before heading to his business meeting, which he had postponed earlier that morning.


    Eleanor put Freya to sleep and went to her study to review some documents from her office. Just as she was about to finish, Teresa called her.


    "Boss, there has been some movement in the Chen Group today. They applied for a newpany that will manufacture microwavemunication products like RF Antennas, Small Cell Antennas for live mobile journalism, Backhaul Fiber Solutions for transmitting live videos, and some GPON equipment. I received information that a Chinese manufacturer is involved in thispany due to the recent increase in taxes on Chinese products," she said.


    Eleanor responded, "Okay. Let them proceed. Keep an eye on their movements. I believe HFCL is producing simr equipment. Compare both and determine which one is better. Also, find out which Chinesepany is involved with them. Investigate and send me a report on thatpany. We might need to interfere in the Chinese market in the future."


    Teresa said, "Understood. I''m on it."


    ***


    The next day, Eleanor decided to do some shopping for Freya''s uing school term. She had already bought her school uniform earlier; now, she needed to match other essories with it.


    After breakfast, Eleanor took Freya to B&M. It was the first time she had taken her daughter shopping since arriving in Manchester. They bought pens, pencils, notebooks, art kits, and several books for first-grade students... all chosen by Freya, making their shopping cart a colorful disy of excitement.


    To make their outing more memorable, Eleanor took Freya to tt Fields Park after their shopping trip. Although the park had a fantastic yground for kids, Freya was more of a nature lover than someone who enjoyed ying with other children.


    Eleanor led Freya to the Shakespearean Garden, which featured nts mentioned in Shakespeare''s works. Having read some of Shakespeare''s ys, Freya was delighted to see the garden.


    They also visited the park''s Eco Arts Garden, adorned with colorful flower beds where art and nature intertwined beautifully. After spending over two hours in the park, they returned to their vi for lunch.


    ***


    Meanwhile, in Manchester Arndale, in front of the Apple Store, a man wearing a ck overcoat and hat stopped in front of William Whitmore.


    "Are you William Whitmore?" he asked.


    "Yes. And who are you?" William responded.


    The man didn''t answer directly but said, "I believe you have a bag for me."


    William immediately understood and handed over the bag containing the cash he had prepared earlier. "Yes. This is the bag."


    The man took it, nodded, and simply said, "Thank you." Without another word, he walked past William and disappeared into the crowd.


    To make his visit appear natural, William entered the Apple Store and purchased thetest iPhone, had it gift-wrapped, and returned to his office. There, he called his newly appointed secretary and presented her with the gift.


    It had been more than six months since Lydia Barker joined EverBuild Solutions Limited as his secretary. Her facial features bore a striking resemnce to Jeanne when she was younger. From the first day, William had fallen for her. It was a stroke of luck for him that her brother was ill and she needed money, allowing him to easily lure her into his bed by offering financial support.


    After receiving the gift, Lydia kissed him on the lips and said shyly, "How could I ept such an expensive gift? You should give it to someone more deserving."


    William smiled. "I bought this phone especially for you. If I wanted to give it to someone else, I would have sent an assistant to pick one up."


    Lydia''s face turned bright red. "Why do you love me this much? I''m just a poor countryside girl. I have nothing to offer you in return."


    William pulled her into his embrace. "You have something no one else has. Will you offer me your love tonight after work?"


    "Okay," Lydia agreed. "I''ll go to Parkview Hotel after office hours. Pleasee early to our usual presidential suite. I bought a new lingerie set just for you. It''s red... the color you always want me to wear."


    "Oh! Now I''m even more eager to see you," William murmured, hugging her tighter. Lydia could feel something hard pressing against her stomach through William''s trousers.


    She yfully pushed him away. "Stop it! You have an image to uphold. If you act like this, there might be a scandal. Calm down for now. I''m not going anywhere... I''ll be waiting for you."


    She took the gift box, ced it in her bag, and left William''s office, leaving him with an eager anticipation for the evening ahead.

 Chapter 26: Assassination Attempt

    <h4>Chapter 26: Assassination Attempt</h4>


    Five dayster, Eleanor returned home after a busy day at the office. There was a lot of work involved in shaping her newly acquiredpanies. Some of the top management personnel had resigned, leaving significant gaps that needed urgent filling. Fortunately, her team was capable enough to temporarily rece those positions, but they still needed to hire qualified individuals soon.


    It was evening, and the surrounding area was illuminated by streetlights. As her car stopped in the vi¡¯s driveway, she stepped out, deep in thought about how to handle the ongoing vacancy crisis. Just as she closed the car door, the entire neighborhood was suddenly plunged into darkness.


    Her sharp senses immediately kicked in. Eleanor¡¯s right ear involuntarily shifted into its original werewolf form, picking up the faint whistling of something approaching rapidly. Instinctively, she dropped to the ground.


    A bullet whizzed past where her head had been just a moment ago and struck a nearby pir. Chunks of concrete shattered and scattered around. Almost immediately, the vi¡¯s emergency power system activated, restoring light to the premises. The entire sequence of events had taken no more than a second.


    She heard themanding voice of her guard captain cutting through themotion.


    "Cut the power immediately! Team G, escort Miss inside the house. Team A, stay vignt around Young Miss. The enemy is outside the vi... secure the perimeter!"


    A brief pause followed before he issued another order. "Command center, reporting in. Miss is under attack at the vi. The enemy has cut off electricity in the surrounding area. Contact Electricity North West and instruct them not to repair the lines for now. We need surveince footage... track the enemy¡¯s location immediately!"


    Eleanor remained on the ground, fully aware that she was the primary target. Judging by the bullet¡¯s trajectory, if she stayed low beside the car, the enemy wouldn¡¯t get a clear shot.


    Four guards swiftly approached her, moving in formation. The nc n was trained to operate best in the darkness.


    "Miss, we¡¯ll cover you. Please get inside. The windows are bulletproof," one of them assured her.


    Eleanor nodded. "I¡¯ll crawl to the house. Be careful. The sniper must have night vision."


    As she started moving, the guard captain¡¯s voice rang out again. "Enemy spotted on the rooftop of a four-story building northeast. Shadow Team, leave the vi to us... pursue the target. There may be multiple assants. Stay alert."


    Midway through her crawl, another bullet whizzed past. It narrowly missed one of the guards shielding her. Fortunately, without any casualties, she reached the safety of the vi. The moment she was inside, a guard shut and bolted the door.


    Eleanor rushed to Freya¡¯s room. She found her daughter safe, hiding under the bed with her nanny.


    She gave the nanny an approving nod before speaking in a calm, reassuring tone. "Freya, Mommy¡¯s home. There¡¯s no need to be scared. The house is bulletproof. Some bad people are causing trouble, but your uncles and aunts will take care of them. You cane out now."


    Freya hesitated for a moment before crawling out from under the bed. Eleanor pulled her into a tight hug. Her daughter seemed rtively calm, much to her relief. Surprisingly, the nanny looked more shaken than Freya.


    Meanwhile, outside the vi, the Shadow Guards reached the sniper¡¯s location only to find it abandoned. A VSS Vintorez silenced sniper rifley on the rooftop, discarded.


    "Target missing," one of the guards reported. "Only the rifle remains."


    Momentster, themand center ryed new information. "Assant spotted. He¡¯s hiding in an empty house one block away. Surveince footage confirms five men were involved. Only the shooter entered the house perimeter; the others dispersed. Teams are tracking them separately."


    The sniper was a Russian ex-Spetsnaz Sniper. He had meticulously nned the operation, scouting the vi for two days to analyze escape routes. His precision had never failed him before, and yet, his perfect shot had inexplicably missed. He couldn¡¯tprehend it.


    His n had been wless. The four other men were meant to create diversions, allowing him to slip away unnoticed. But something had gone horribly wrong. His pursuers weren¡¯t following the script. They weren¡¯t after the diversions... they were after him. His instincts screamed danger.


    He gritted his teeth and pulled out his Uzi Pro SMG from his backpack. If he had to go down, he would go down fighting.


    However, when the Shadow Guards stormed into the house, they shifted into their werewolf forms. Massive, menacing creatures with glowing eyes surrounded him.


    His breath hitched. His grip on the SMG faltered. He had faced death before, but this... this was something else.


    With a thud, his knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground involuntarily.


    "I¡¯ll talk! I¡¯ll tell you everything!" he blurted out, his voice trembling.


    He confessed the entire assassination plot without even being asked. His eyes darted between the seven monstrous figures that loomed over him, their glowing eyes fixated on him like hunters observing prey.


    Once the Shadow Guards confirmed his intel, they ryed the details to themand center. Meanwhile, the other four men were captured and interrogated separately. Surprisingly, all their stories aligned.


    Upon hearing the report, Xavier Raynor, who had arrived at themand center after hearing the news, made a decisive call. "Eliminate them all."


    It took only fifteen minutes to clean up the mess.


    Shortly after, Electricity North West restored power to the neighborhood, issuing a public statement: "Due to an emergency technical issue, certain areas experienced an outage. The issue has now been resolved. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience caused."


    The investigation uncovered that the assants were hired mercenaries from France. They had traveled via speedboat from Cis, crossing the English Channel before docking at Ellesmere Port. From there, they drove to Manchester.


    Their n had been to escape the same way... splitting up and taking different routes back to Ellesmere Port afterpleting their mission. However, three members of their team had stayed behind at the port, preparing for their return journey.


    Among them was their leader... the only one who knew how to receive assassination assignments. The rest of the team only followed orders. ording to their intel, their leader obtained jobs through a dar website.


    A separate Shadow Team stationed in Liverpool was dispatched immediately. They quickly located and subdued the remaining three men. After thorough questioning, the orders were clear... no loose ends.


    Their speedboat was sunk in deep waters, and the bodies were cremated. All traces of the operation were erased.


    By the next morning, it was as if the assassins had never set foot on English soil.

 Chapter 27: The Unstable Boss

    <h4>Chapter 27: The Unstable Boss</h4>


    From the captured leader of the assants, themand center gained ess to the dar website where the assassination had been ordered. The tform operated on an invitation-only membership system with a strict hierarchy. Members were ranked using a point-based system...pleting jobs sessfully would earn points, which in turn determined one¡¯s level. The hierarchy ascended from R (Rookie), N (Novice), then D, C, B, A, and finally S (Superior).


    The assassin leader was a Level D member. That meant he could only view and ept missions ranked at Level D or below. Upon inspecting his ount, they found the details of the assignment on Eleanor: several recent photos of her, basic personal information, and the bounty value of 100,000 dors, categorized as a standard Level D contract.


    Judging by the mission¡¯s low-level ssification and basic information, the team concluded that the assassination order had likelye from a human client. There was no sign of involvement from the supernatural world. This gave everyone a small moment of relief... if it were a werewolf or vampire n, the implications would¡¯ve been far more serious.


    Xavier Raynor issued onemand before leaving themand center: "Find out who issued the contract. Hack the site if you have to."


    Twenty-Four Seven Limited was Greater Manchester¡¯srgest call center, established in 1996 by Kieran Raynor. For decades, it worked closely with the City Council and the Police Department. The building in Hyde stood five stories tall. The lower three floors were for general operations, while the upper two were off-limits to all but Raynor n, nc n, and a few certified insiders.


    Unbeknownst to the public, those top two floors housed the securitymand center for n Raynor.


    Currently, themand center was under the supervision of Xavier Raynor, the acting Guardian of the Raynor n. It served as his personal domain. Following his order, the best hackers from the shadowwork were already attempting to infiltrate the dar website that had dared to ce an assassination order on Eleanor.


    ***


    Meanwhile, on Ethan Raynor¡¯s side of things, the news of the assassination attempt reached him almost immediately. He had just been concluding a private meeting with the Mayor of Stockport to discuss expanding their business presence in the Stockport area.


    To impress the mayor, they had reserved the entire Hare & Hounds Mill Brow Pub for the day, knowing it was her favorite spot for countryside cuisine. The mood had been light, until Ethan¡¯s phone buzzed with a message. As he read the report, his expression darkened. The temperature in the room seemed to drop to freezing.


    The mayor, while in mid-sentence, suddenly went quiet. A chill ran down her spine. In her fifty years of life and years of experience dealing with criminals and politicians alike, she had never felt a presence so dangerous. It wasn¡¯t just anger she sensed... it was pure, deadly rage cloaked beneath an icy calm. She finally understood why Ethan Raynor had the reputation of a cold-blooded killer in the business world.


    She had met murderers, mob bosses, and even war veterans. None of them had given her the soul-chilling fear that Ethan Raynor radiated in that moment.


    Jack Brown, Ethan¡¯s personal assistant, had already resigned himself to the fact that his boss was... difficult. If it weren¡¯t for the absurdly high sry, he would¡¯ve quit long ago. Ethan was ruthless... not just with enemies, but also with his own team. Precision, excellence, andplete obedience were expected. And Jack and others under Ethan Raynor had delivered that even if they were on the brink of death.


    Buttely... something had changed.


    Ever since Miss Eleanor entered the Kingdom, Ethan had be increasingly moody, indecisive, and prone to emotional swings. Jack often joked... privately, of course... that Ethan behaved like a pregnant woman on bad days.


    But when Jack saw his boss¡¯s clenched fists and deadly eyes, he knew one thing with absolute certainty: this was rted to Miss Eleanor.


    He silently prayed for the poor souls who had dared to cross her.


    Only seconds passed before Ethan¡¯s demeanor returned to its usual calm, professional state. He stood up, voice even but urgent.


    "I¡¯m sorry, Madam Mayor. There¡¯s a family emergency. I have to leave immediately. My secretary will apany you for the rest of the dinner. I promise to make this up to you."


    The mayor quickly nodded. "It¡¯s okay. Please go ahead."


    Ethan turned to Jack. "Apany the Madam Mayor. You know the business details we intended to discuss. Aspensation for my absence, offer her and her family a private sea tour aboard my yacht. Schedule it at her convenience. Ensureplete confidentiality and make sure security is airtight. Handle everything. And get another car... I¡¯m taking mine."


    With that, Ethan exited the pub, not sparing another nce. Once outside, he pulled out his phone and made a call.


    "I¡¯m at Marple Bridge, Stockport. I need to be in Manchester immediately. Track my location. Clear all road signs and give me green lights all the way. I¡¯ll be speeding. Take care of it."


    "Understood, Mr. Raynor," came the crisp response.


    Ethan pocketed his phone, climbed into his ck BMW X5, and roared down the road.


    He hade alone for the confidential meeting, without guards. But he wasn¡¯t worried about protection now. He only needed speed.


    Thanks to his men, every traffic light on his route turned green just before he arrived. Other drivers were subtly rerouted. In just fifteen minutes, he crossed the usual thirty-minute distance and arrived at Eleanor¡¯s vi.


    The scene outside the house had already been cleaned up. The guards stood at attention, the perimeter calm but alert.


    Ethan checked his phone again for real-time updates. Themand center had everything under control.


    The guard captain stepped forward as he got out of the car.


    "Miss Eleanor and the young miss are both upstairs."


    Ethan gave a curt nod. "Thank you."


    Without another word, he walked inside, straight up to the second floor. He paused in front of Freya¡¯s room, where he heardughter and soft voices.


    He pushed the door open and saw a heartwarming sight.


    Eleanor and Freya were ying with building blocks on the carpeted floor. Freya¡¯s giggles filled the room like sunshine.


    The moment Freya saw him, she squealed and rushed over, arms wide open.


    "Daddyyyy!"


    Eleanor turned around, standing slowly, eyes locking onto his. She had sensed his arrival even before he reached the stairs. She had waited to gauge Freya¡¯s reaction... to be sure she was truly fine.


    Ethan scooped Freya into his arms, holding her tightly. His eyes never left Eleanor¡¯s.


    "Are you okay?" he asked.


    So much emotion was packed into that one simple sentence... worry, rage, guilt, relief.


    Eleanor smiled softly. "I¡¯m fine. Just a small disturbance."


    Freya chimed in, grinning, "Daddy, let¡¯s y! Mommy is no fun to y with."


    Eleanor gasped in mock outrage. "Now that you¡¯ve found your daddy, you¡¯ve abandoned your poor mommy?"


    Realizing her mistake, Freya squeaked, "No, no! It¡¯s also fun with Mommy!"


    Both parents burst outughing, the earlier tension melting away.


    "Children are always a blessing," Ethan thought as he held his daughter close.


    Eleanor wiped her hands and stood. "Freya, go y with Daddy for a bit. I¡¯ll check the kitchen. Ethan, join us for dinner tonight."

 Chapter 28: World Hacker Alliance

    <h4>Chapter 28: World Hacker Alliance</h4>


    Eleanor went to the kitchen to instruct the staff about dinner. She specifically asked them to cook some of Ethan¡¯s favorite dishes. Her voice was calm, her expressionposed... but there was a hint of weariness in her gaze.


    After giving the instructions, she walked upstairs to her study and called the guard captain. Within minutes, he entered the room and stood at attention.


    "Miss," he said respectfully, "we¡¯ve already cleared the damages. By tomorrow morning, the broken pir will be fully repaired. Themand center informed us that all the assants have been taken care of. There¡¯s no remaining threat. As for what themand center did, we weren¡¯t told."


    Eleanor nodded. "Okay. I¡¯ll speak with themand center myself. You may go now."


    The guard captain hesitated. "I¡¯m sorry, Miss. Please pardon our ipetence."


    Eleanor shook her head. "It¡¯s not your fault. We never expected a sniper to open fire in a residential area. Our AI system is designed to detect unauthorized ess by living beings within the vi perimeter. But now that we¡¯ve seen what desperate people are willing to do, we¡¯ll expand the system¡¯s range. The perimeter detection and notification protocols will be updated immediately."


    She paused before adding gently, "Don¡¯t me yourself or your men. No one was hurt. This attack, if anything, exposed the blind spots in our defenses. Go and tell everyone... they didn¡¯t fail. They protected me under heavy firepower, and I¡¯m grateful."


    The captain bowed his head and left the room.


    Once alone, Eleanor picked up her phone and called themand center. A voice on the other end quickly responded.


    "Ma¡¯am. Here¡¯s the current situation. After the boss gave the order, our hackers began attempting to breach the dar site, but so far, they¡¯ve failed. The firewall is strong and multiyered. We¡¯re trying various strategies to break through. The assant leader told us that if he fails toplete the mission within one week, the assignment will be opened to other hit squads. Also, if he doesn¡¯t personally confirm his failure, his ount will be temporarily suspended. So, we have a one-week window to act. We¡¯ll keep you informed of any updates."


    "Understood," Eleanor said. "Send me the link and login information."


    Secondster, her phone buzzed with a secure message. Eleanor opened her desk drawer and pulled out a second phone... a sleek, matte-ck Bittium Tough Mobile, untouched for over a year.


    She powered it on and began typing. Her fingers flew across the screen in rapid motion, almost a blur. The interface loaded a secure shell. She bypassed the preliminary encryption easily, but the deeper she went, the more she frowned.


    After five minutes, she leaned back in her chair.


    "If I force ess, they¡¯ll track my location," she murmured. "No doubt about it."


    She stared at the code, her brow furrowed. "And this signature... there¡¯s no mistaking it. ZeroWarden. One of the top ten hackers in the world. This site is under his protection, I presume. If I go further without initiating contact, it¡¯ll escte into a digital standoff."


    She exhaled slowly, then exited the shell and opened a forum instead... a private domain known only to the elite of the hacking world. She posted a single message:


    ckCat: @ZeroWarden, contact me ASAP or your device will be blown.


    The forum, dormant seconds earlier, exploded with activity.


    RedNull: Ahhhh... the goddess is back.(scream)


    ByteWitch: @ckCat, where have you been for two years?!


    DrkSyntax: @ckCat, I love you.


    K3yMast3r: @ZeroWarden, don¡¯t keep our goddess waiting!


    BitJunkie: Did @ZeroWarden offend you? Say the word, we¡¯ll handle it.


    HexShade: @ckCat, we missed you so much.


    NovaBreak: @AzureDragon, if @ZeroWarden disrespected her, vote to expel him!


    NetStalker: Marry me, @ckCat! (love)


    AzureDragon: @Everyone, calm down. Wee back, @ckCat.


    Three years ago, ckCat, one of Eleanor¡¯s aliases, had been the most formidable hacker in the world. So powerful was her presence that the President of the World Hacker Alliance, AzureDragon, once nearly lost his position to her in a popr vote. Though the group was informal, membership in their private forum required rigorous vetting. And among them, ckCat was legend.


    Within minutes, a private message appeared.


    ZeroWarden: Sorry @ckCat, did I offend you somehow?


    ckCat: Not at all. I just tried to ess a dar site and found it was under your protection.


    ZeroWarden: Ah, that would be the Russian job board. Yes, I built their new system. Tell me what you need.


    ckCat: I need ess. That¡¯s all. You know what happens if I force it.


    ZeroWarden: Understood. Sending you the credentials now.


    ckCat: Appreciated.


    A file popped up on her screen: untitled.zip.


    She downloaded and opened the archive, decrypting the contents in seconds. Inside was a set of master credentials... admin-level ess. Without a second thought, she logged into the target dar site.


    Meanwhile, in the forum, ZeroWarden posted publicly:


    ZeroWarden: @Everyone, I just spoke with the goddess. All is well. There¡¯s no problem between us. I would never offend her.


    BitJunkie: Smart man. LoL.


    DriftGhost: Thanks @ZeroWarden. At least you could bring her back, we forgive you.


    Eleanor, now deep within the site¡¯s architecture, ignored the ongoing chatter. Her attention was solely on the server. The structure was impressive. The group was a global mercenarywork based in Russia. Over a thousand members. Organized, disciplined. Contracts filtered by region, specialization, and target ss.


    She located her contract. It had several photos of her, general information, and some background details when she was Eleanor Whitmore. Rage flickered behind her eyes, but she remained calm.


    The issuer¡¯s profile came next. Pseudonym. Faked IP chains. Dummy phone numbers. The data trail was expertly scrubbed.


    Dead end.


    She leaned back and sighed. The only way forward now was through the organization itself. But poking further would alert too many eyes.


    Eleanor encrypted her logs, wiped all traces, and powered off the Bittium phone.


    Then, using her personal phone, she called themand center.


    "What¡¯s the update on the breach attempt?"


    "No progress, Miss. Their defenses are holding strong."


    "Don¡¯t waste any more time," Eleanor said. "I¡¯ve gained ess through another route. I have a lead and I¡¯ll pursue it independently. Inform Uncle Xavier that I asked for the hacking process to be terminated. It¡¯s a dead end."


    "Are you sure, Miss?"


    "I¡¯m sure. Please pass along my message, word for word. Thank you."


    She ended the call, then turned to the window. Night had fully fallen over Manchester, lights flickering in the distance like stars reflected on a dark sea.


    One week. That was all the time she had before another assassin came.


    She whispered, "Let¡¯s see who you really are... and why you want me dead."

 Chapter 29: A Glimpse of the Past

    <h4>Chapter 29: A Glimpse of the Past</h4>


    Eleanor stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in her study, her gaze lingering on the dark sky above. The stars were scattered like spilled glitter, faint yet constant, whispering memories of a past she¡¯d tried for so long to forget. In the distance, a ne passed silently overhead, blinking red and white across the heavens.


    Her thoughts swirled like a storm cloud. "The assassination order wasn¡¯t for Eleanor Raynor... but for Eleanor Whitmore," she murmured to herself.


    That detail changed everything.


    "It means the order didn¡¯te from the business world... and definitely not from the supernatural circles either. If it had, the bounty would be in the millions... not a mere hundred thousand dors. No, this is personal. It has to be the Whitmore family."


    She clenched her fists, brows furrowed in cold realization. "Willow White must have informed Jennifer about my return. And now... they¡¯re desperate. Of course... they would be. The seven-year deadline is almost here. They can¡¯t take any chances."


    A wave of memories from her childhood hit her like a gust of winter wind... sharp, sudden, and unrelenting.


    Her mother had passed away when she was barely six months old. The only thing she had left of her was a few faded photographs and the business empire she¡¯d built from scratch. Eleanor¡¯s memories before her bloodline awakening had been vague, but afterward, everything was vivid. Strangely, despite the mental rity, she still couldn¡¯t recall a single moment spent with her mother. Her presence existed only in stories... and regrets.


    After her mother¡¯s death, Aunt Isabe had stepped in. A kind woman who imed to be a distant rtive of her mother¡¯s side. Eleanor had no memory of ever meeting another member of her maternal family. She does not even know the names of her grandparents. Nothing. Her mother¡¯s world had been erased... was it deliberate?


    She remembered being eight when Jeanne, her "kind" stepmother, suddenly fired Aunt Isabe. Eleanor had cried for days. Jeanne hadforted her, winning her trust with a sweet voice and fake warmth. It wasn¡¯t until now that Eleanor realized she hadpletely forgotten about Isabe.


    Her face darkened.


    She pulled out her phone and dialed Teresa. "I want you to find an olddy named Isabe Thomas," she said, her tone low but urgent. "She must be in her early fifties by now. She was my nanny, looked after me until I was eight. After she was fired, I heard she returned to her hometown... somewhere in Birmingham. She once told me her house was near Edgbaston Stadium. Cross-reference the timeline. I want her location by tonight. I want to visit her tomorrow."


    "Okay, Boss," Teresa replied.


    Teresa ended the call and groaned... she¡¯d just sat down to rx after a grueling day, but a paycheck that size made up for the sudden overtime. She threw off her nket and got to work.


    Meanwhile, Eleanor paced across the room. "How stupid was I?" she whispered, shaking her head bitterly. "To think Jeanne was a gentle stepmother... and Jennifer, a loving older sister."


    They had orchestrated her life like a y... every move, every emotion. Puppeteers in velvet gloves.


    "How could a father participate in nning the rape of his own daughter? He even wanted me dead." Her voice cracked, but she swallowed the lump in her throat. "Is he really my father?"


    A chilling possibility emerged. What if William Whitmore wasn¡¯t her biological father at all?


    "I need to find out the truth. I need a DNA test... as soon as possible."


    Back when she first returned to the U.S., Eleanor had reached out to a few of her mother¡¯s former business partners. Through them, she¡¯d pieced together fragments of the truth.


    Her mother, Esmeralda Langford, had sufferedplications during childbirth and remained hospitalized until her death. At the time, no one knew who Eleanor¡¯s father was. William Whitmore had worked closely with her mother as a personal assistant and took over managing thepany during her illness. After Esmeralda¡¯s death, he suddenly produced a marriage certificate and imed Eleanor as his daughter.


    On her deathbed, Esmeralda had gathered her partners and dered that all her assets would go to her daughter, Eleanor Langford. She added a use stating none of the properties could be sold or transferred until Eleanor turned twenty. William became Eleanor¡¯s legal guardian and temporary custodian of all her mother¡¯s assets... and, of course, the acting chairman of thepany.


    Just a few monthster, he married Jeanne Baker.


    And with that, Eleanor Langford became the second daughter of the Whitmore family, second to Jennifer Whitmore, who was Jeanne¡¯s daughter with William Whitmore before their marriage.


    Everything suddenly clicked.


    James Clifford¡¯s mother was Phoebe Baker. She¡¯d seen Phoebe and Jeanne together several times, always speaking in familiar tones. James hadn¡¯te into her life by chance... he had a role to y, too.


    She remembered how James had alwayse to her rescue in school, ying the hero. But when had the bullying begun?


    It all started when someone spread a rumor that Eleanor¡¯s mother was a mistress who broke apart the Whitmore family. That Esmeralda had seduced William and given birth to an illegitimate daughter. People had said the only good thing about her death was that she spared Jennifer more suffering.


    And the worst part? Eleanor had believed it! Jennifer was her senior, kind and well-liked. Eleanor had resented her own mother, even hated herself for being "the mistress¡¯s child."


    And there was no one to tell her otherwise.


    Only Jeanne and Jennifer were there... always supporting her. Always feeding her lies.


    The rumors had begun right after Isabe was fired.


    Of course. Jeanne had orchestrated the whole thing. Isabe might have told Eleanor the truth... that Esmeralda was William¡¯s wife first. That she wasn¡¯t the product of some illegitimate affair. That Jennifer was the outsider, not her.


    Most of her school bullies hade from Jennifer¡¯s ss. It didn¡¯t take much effort to guess who started the rumors.


    Before the night she overheard them plotting her rape and murder, she had genuinely believed they were her family. Their performance had been so convincing that it could¡¯ve won Oscars. If she hadn¡¯t heard it herself, even a video recording wouldn¡¯t have been enough to convince her.


    Her stomach churned at the thought.


    Eleanor sat in silence for a long while, staring at the polished surface of her desk. Finally, she picked up her phone and dialed a number from memory.


    "Hello, Uncle. How¡¯s your health?" she asked softly.


    A voice came through, aged but warm. "Ah, Eleanor. Still alive and kicking, my girl! It¡¯s so good to hear your voice. How¡¯ve you been?"


    "I¡¯m doing well. I¡¯ve returned to the Kingdom. I want to see you. When would be a good time?"


    "You¡¯re back?" he said, clearly surprised. "That¡¯s wonderful news! Your aunt hasn¡¯t been doing well recently. I think it would do her good to see you. Come over anytime."


    "Alright. Just don¡¯t tell her I¡¯ming. Don¡¯t tell anyone. There might be spies eyeing you." Eleanor smiled gently. "I¡¯ll be there in about an hour."


    "Got it. I¡¯ll be waiting."

 Chapter 30: Shadow Guards

    <h4>Chapter 30: Shadow Guards</h4>


    Eleanor gently closed her eyes, allowing the silence of the study to settle around her like aforting shroud. Outside, the world continued on, unaware of the storm brewing within her mind. Since her return to the Kingdom, her focus had been singr... building herpany. Heimdall Technologies was still in its infancy here, unlike the thriving tech conglomerate she had established in North America. She had envisioned a quiet, low-keyunch in the Kingdom, avoiding unnecessary attention. Too much limelight in the beginning was never good for business. These annoying bugs didn¡¯t let her be at peace.


    After her bloodline awakening, she had remained in the ancestralnd until Freya was born. During that time, she gained ess to ancient books and received teachings from elders who had long withdrawn from the mortal world and now resided within the ancestral grounds. There, she immersed herself in business philosophy, strategic thinking, and the subtle intricacies of power. Later, she traveled across the globe and spent over a year learning directly from Fiona, a legend in the business world. Those lessons were etched into her very soul.


    Finally, when she felt prepared to challenge the Kingdom¡¯s market, she returned home. She had no intention of engaging with the Whitmore family yet. Her n was to settle Heimdall Technologies, release their breakthrough product, and establish an unshakable foothold. Then she would move against her enemies... on her terms. But her ns were derailed.


    The Whitmores acted first. Their desperation was evident. They knew she had returned, and perhaps they sensed what she had discovered. Their moves forced her hand. She could no longer afford to wait. Especially not when the risk extended beyond her... to Freya.


    Eleanor¡¯s jaw tightened. Her daughter¡¯s existence had to remain a secret from the Whitmores. No matter what.


    She straightened her back and spoke with resolve, "Shadow Guards, gather here."


    Within seconds, six dark figures emerged from the shadows, silent as the night. Their presence was as natural as the air around her. Eleanor had always been aware of their protection, but now, it was time to truly lead them.


    "I need to retrieve something... discreetly," she said, scanning their masked faces. "Which one of you is best in stealth?"


    One figure stepped forward without hesitation. "That would be me," a female voice said with quiet confidence.


    Eleanor nodded. "Before we go further, I owe you something. I¡¯ve never formally introduced myself to you all. You¡¯ve been guarding me since I returned, and I was too immersed in work to do what I should have done long ago."


    She paused. "My name is Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. Future leader of the Raynor n. Please show your face and let me know your name."


    The guards removed their masks at hermand, revealing the faces behind the shadows. One by one, they introduced themselves.


    "I¡¯m Sebastian nc," said the first, a tall man with a chiseled jaw. "I am the leader of this team. My specialty is hand-to-handbat."


    "Ophelia nc," said the stealth expert. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. "Specialized in infiltration and assassination."


    "I¡¯m Raphael nc. Small firearms expert," said the next, casually resting a hand on his concealed weapon.


    "ric nc," came the voice of a lean man. "Long-range shooting and sniping."


    "Elias nc," said another with a calm demeanor. "My strength lies in swordsmanship."


    "And I¡¯m Isadora nc," said the final member. "Tracking and closebat."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes lingered on each of them with respect. "Thank you for keeping me and my family safe. Without n nc, the Raynor legacy would never have reached these heights. As an Elizabeth, my life will always carry more risk. Your jobs are dangerous without question."


    She took a deep breath. "From this moment, in addition to the payment you receive from the n, you will also be paid ten thousand pounds per month directly from me. This is not charity... it¡¯s recognition. If something happens to you, your families will bepensated from my personal funds. What I ask in return is simple: absolute loyalty and total secrecy. Especially concerning my personal matters. Do I make myself clear?"


    "Yes, mydy," they said in perfect unison.


    "Good. Then your mission begins now." She handed a folded paper to Sebastian. "Go to this address. Monitor every individual on the premises, especially the household staff. I want you to find out the moles there. I will arrive in one hour. When my car enters thepound, activate the signal jammer and cut their inte."


    Sebastian nodded. "Understood."


    Eleanor turned to Ophelia. "You stay. You have a separate mission."


    The rest of the guards ced their right hands over their hearts and bowed. With a shift of air and no sound, they vanished into the shadows.


    Only Ophelia remained.


    Eleanor approached her. "This task is personal and confidential. You are not to speak of it to anyone... ever."


    Ophelia nodded once.


    "I need three strands of hair. From William Whitmore, Jeanne Baker, and Jennifer Whitmore. Make sure the roots are intact. Use gloves and seal them in sterile bags immediately. Can you do that?"


    "Yes, mydy."


    "I¡¯ll send you the address and their photos. Go tonight. No mistakes."


    Ophelia said her mobile number, and Eleanor typed a message. A few secondster, her phone buzzed as the message arrived. She bowed slightly and exited the room.


    Eleanor turned her attention to her family. She walked to Freya¡¯s room and found her daughter giggling while Ethan was ying a dragon game on theputer. The sight warmed her heart, if only for a moment.


    "I¡¯ll be heading out for a while," she said, standing at the doorway.


    Ethan looked up and smiled. "Alright. Freya and I will be here."


    She left them with a soft smile and descended to the ground floor. The guard captain was waiting.


    "I¡¯m leaving for a private meeting. No convoy. Send your best driver with a civilian car. Shadow Guards will cover me."


    "Yes, Lady Eleanor."


    She informed the butler that Freya and Ethan were to have dinner without waiting for her if she waste. Then she stepped into a ck sedan that pulled up at the side entrance.


    Forty minutester, they arrived at a quiet, upscale courtyard. A uniformed guard at the gate approached.


    "Name and appointment?" he asked.


    Eleanor called a number and handed over her phone. The guard spoke briefly to the person on the other end, nodded, and opened the gate.


    The car drove through and stopped before a modest yet elegant vi. Standing at the entrance was a tall, silver-haired man in gold-rimmed sses.


    "Uncle Grant!" Eleanor eximed and rushed to embrace him.


    "We missed you, child. It¡¯s been years. Your aunt will be happy to see you," Elliot Grant replied with warmth.


    "I¡¯ll see Auntter. We need to talk...privately," she said, serious once again.


    Understanding her tone, he led her to his study. Once inside, she shut the door firmly.


    "Sebastian," she said calmly.


    To Mr. Grant¡¯s shock, a figure emerged silently from the corner. His presence was terrifying... like a phantom.


    "There are three infiltrators," Sebastian reported. "One guard at the gate. One in the kitchen. Thest is Mr. Grant¡¯s secretary."


    Eleanor¡¯s voice was cold. "I want to know who sent them. Interrogate, then eliminate them. Make sure their bodies vanish."


    Elliot Grant stood frozen, staring at the emotionless face of the young woman he had once rocked to sleep. She was no longer the lively girl he knew, no longer the helpless child left behind by her friend Esmeralda.

 Chapter 31: The Grant Family

    <h4>Chapter 31: The Grant Family</h4>


    After Sebastian vanished into the shadows, Mr. Grant stood frozen on the spot. Eleanor could sense the awkwardness hanging in the air, but she waited patiently. She knew he needed a moment to process everything. She had no intention of hiding her power from him. If anything, she needed him to shed his protective instinct toward her and see her for who she had be.


    She understood where his protectiveness came from. As one of her mother¡¯s closest friends, he had always held a soft spot for her. She had known Mr. Grant since childhood and remembered how much he cared. But now, she needed him to see her as a capable adult, someone who could protect not only herself but others as well.


    Finally, Mr. Grant broke the silence. "Let¡¯s sit down first," he said, walking to his chair and gesturing to the one opposite him.


    Eleanor took her seat without hesitation.


    "You¡¯ve grown up, Eleanor," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "I always knew you as the shy, kind, lively, and adorable girl. I was afraid someone would hurt you again." His voice trailed off at the end.


    "Uncle, I know what I used to be. I caused a lot of worry for all of you," Eleanor said softly. "I should¡¯ve grown up earlier."


    He looked at her, concern still lingering in his eyes. "Now that you¡¯re here, do you n to go back to that family?"


    Eleanor scoffed. "Whitmore¡¯s? I have no intention of returning to them."


    A look of relief washed over Mr. Grant¡¯s face. "That¡¯s good. I was going to suggest you stay far away from the Whitmore family. Although I never had concrete proof, all the evidence I gathered about... that incident of yours... pointed to them. I shouldn¡¯t say this, but I was always suspicious of your mother¡¯s marriage to William. We were her friends, yet she never mentioned her marriage to us. She even called us to the hospital when she wanted to transfer her assets to you."


    He paused, then added, "In any case, I think you should keep a low profile and reim your mother¡¯spany as soon as possible."


    "Uncle, you don¡¯t need to worry," Eleanor said calmly. "I¡¯m no longer Eleanor Whitmore. I¡¯m Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, adopted into the Raynor Family. They took me in when I had nothing... trained me, supported me, and provided the funds to start my business. Do you remember the first time I called you after leaving the country?"


    He nodded. "Yes, you said you were living in the US. But isn¡¯t the Raynor family from Manchester?"


    "They are," she confirmed. "But they have businesses all over the world. I was sent to the US to stay out of the spotlight because the police were looking for me at the time. While I was there, I built my ownpany, and now it¡¯s worth more than EverBuild Solutions Limited. I returned because I¡¯m ready to face William Whitmore head-on. I just need you to continue holding thepany board for me for a little longer."


    Mr. Grant smiled. "Good. Good. Your mother would be proud of you."


    "Uncle, I also came here today to ensure your safety," she said, her tone serious. "If William suspects anyone of helping me survive all these years, it will be you. Just a few hours ago, someone tried to assassinate me. Don¡¯t worry... they¡¯re all dead. But I suspect the Whitmores were behind it. They maye after you next. Would you allow me to leave some of my guards here for protection?"


    Mr. Grant waved his hand dismissively. "Don¡¯t worry about me. William doesn¡¯t have the guts to attack me directly. My family¡¯s been in politics for generations. I met your mother during a political gathering. Neither of us liked politics, but our families had close ties. Your maternal grandfather wanted her to follow in his footsteps, but she had her own dreams. When she decided to start apany and her family refused to fund her, I stepped in."


    He chuckled, lost in memory. "That¡¯s beside the point. My father was a Member of Parliament, and currently, my sister is the Mayor of Stockport. If William tries anything funny, it¡¯ll cause a political storm. He might scheme behind the scenes, but a direct attack? No."


    "Do you have any other family members living here?" Eleanor asked.


    "No. It was just my sister and me. Our father¡¯s two sisters live abroad."


    "Then it¡¯s settled. I¡¯ll still deploy some of my personal guards here. Even if you don¡¯t need them, it¡¯ll put my mind at ease."


    He sighed in resignation. "Do what you must. Your aunt and I hardly leave the house nowadays. We don¡¯t need many guards."


    "Thank you, Uncle."


    She picked up her phone and called Maya. "I¡¯m sending you an address. Send ten armed guards and a driver from our securitypany. Also send two off-road vehicles. I want them reporting to Mr. Elliot Grant before sunrise tomorrow."


    After ending the call, she sent the address.


    She looked at Mr. Grant apologetically. "Sorry for the trouble, Uncle. Please bear with it for now."


    He gave a helpless smile. "Alright then. Shall we go see your aunt?"


    "Actually, Uncle, I wanted to know more about the past. About my mother. I know so little. Could you please tell me more?"


    Seeing the pleading look on Eleanor¡¯s face, Elliot Grant¡¯s expression softened. He leaned back and began recounting the story of Esmeralda Langford, Eleanor¡¯s mother.


    "The Langford family received their Earldom during the Victorian era, elevating them to high status with seats in the House of Lords, vast estates, and strong influence in regional governance. Even as the British system modernized and Parliament gained more power, their noble status still carried weight. They had connections with the Royals and were a powerful family in both politics and society."


    He continued, "Many Langfords served as Privy Councilors, Royal Advisors, or Lord Chambeins. They held key roles in the House of Lords until the House of Lords Act of 1999, which removed most hereditary peers. Only 92 were allowed to remain, selected through internal elections. Your grandfather was one of them. He won, keeping the Langford name in politics."


    Mr. Grant¡¯s gaze turned reflective. "But your mother... she didn¡¯t want that life. She hated politics. While the family focused on maintaining legacy, she saw the opportunities in the booming economy. She wanted to start her own business. Birmingham was developing fast, and she had the foresight to make something of it. But her father refused to fund her. That¡¯s when she came to me. I believed in her vision. I gave her the initial capital, and together, we started what would be EverBuild Solutions Limited."

 Chapter 32: Esmeralda Langford

    <h4>Chapter 32: Esmeralda Langford</h4>


    As Elliot Grant continued the story, Eleanor began to see her mother in a new light. What unfolded was a tale of resilience, rebellion, and unwavering strength. Her mother hadn¡¯t been a tragic, weak figure as she had been led to believe all these years. No... Esmeralda Langford had been a fighter. A woman who defied the odds and dared to live on her own terms.


    "She started her business in Manchester," Mr. Grant said, "because our family had influence here. And because she wanted to prove to her father that her decision was the right one. That¡¯s why she avoided Birmingham... she didn¡¯t want to depend on anyone from her family."


    Within a few short years, Esmeralda¡¯s constructionpany had grown into one of thergest firms in the region. Manchester was booming, and she had seized the opportunity with both hands.


    "But," Elliot continued with a sigh, "sess came at a cost. Her rtionship with her father deteriorated rapidly. They tried to mend it after a while, and she began visiting home again... but everything fell apart when he tried to arrange a marriage for her... with some young, up-anding politician."


    Eleanor leaned forward slightly, engrossed.


    "While that argument was still ongoing, tragedy struck. Your grandmother died in a car ident. The police ruled it a mechanical failure... the driver of the other vehicle was arrested, but many of us suspected it was something more... sinister. An attempt on your grandfather¡¯s life, perhaps. He was supposed to be in the car that day, only he was called awayst minute for a political meeting."


    Mr. Grant paused, letting the weight of those words settle.


    "That incident shattered any chance of reconciliation between your mother and grandfather. After the funeral, Esmeralda never returned home. She poured all her energy into the business. Thepany expanded quickly and was eventually listed on the stock exchange. She kept building and growing, as if trying to outrun the pain."


    Eleanor felt a strange mix of pride and sorrow swell in her chest.


    "But," Elliot said, voice softening, "we were worried. She was over thirty-five by then... still single, no partner in sight. The rest of us had settled down, started families. She just... worked. Day and night. It was like she was trying to fill a void she couldn¡¯t name. Her health started to suffer."


    He smiled faintly, as if remembering a shared conspiracy. "So, we... her business partners and friends, decided to force her into a break. We arranged a vacation for her under the guise of a ¡¯timber sourcing trip.¡¯ She visited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Find, supposedly for business. But really, we just wanted her to rx."


    Eleanor chuckled softly through her tears. "Did it work?"


    "Oh, it worked alright," he said, his expression turning nostalgic. "She came back from that trip... different. Calmer. Happier. A monthter, she told us she was pregnant."


    Eleanor¡¯s heart skipped a beat.


    "But she never told us who the father was," Mr. Grant continued. "We asked... some more directly than others... but she refused to say. It became a topic we just... avoided."


    "And then?" Eleanor prompted, already sensing what wasing.


    "At sixth month, she fell ill," he said, his voice suddenly weighed down. "Doctors found abnormalities in the fetus... stronger heart rate, abnormal body temperature fluctuations. They said the baby was... different. Healthy, but different. Too strong for her body to handle."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes widened.


    "The doctors rmended terminating the pregnancy. Said it was the only way to save her. But she refused. t out. Even when they told her she might not survive childbirth, she wouldn¡¯t listen."


    A lump formed in Eleanor¡¯s throat.


    "She told me," Elliot said, voice shaking slightly, "that she didn¡¯t care about her own life anymore. She had made her choice. She said that the child growing inside her was her miracle. A gift. She¡¯d fight for her baby until the very end."


    Tears spilled freely down Eleanor¡¯s cheeks. She didn¡¯t bother to wipe them away.


    The room fell silent, broken only by the asional sob that escaped her lips. Her chest felt tight... like her heart had been squeezed into a vice.


    All her life, she had believed lies.


    Jeanne had fed her stories about how her mother had forced herself into William Whitmore¡¯s life, how she had died as a punishment from God. She¡¯d painted a picture of a shameless woman whose death was a blessing for everyone involved.


    Eleanor had believed it.


    She¡¯d believed that her mother was someone unworthy of love or respect. That Jeanne had been her savior.


    But the truth... the truth was like a de. Her mother had died to bring her into the world. Had faced certain death just to hold her in her arms... if only for a moment.


    How could she have ever resented a woman like that?


    She had never even mourned her mother. Never visited her grave with love in her heart. Instead, she had gone through life proud that she didn¡¯t miss her. That she hadn¡¯t cried for her.


    What kind of daughter was she?


    After a long, heavy silence, Eleanor finally spoke. Her voice was raw and hoarse. "What about my grandfather? Did he evere to see me?"


    Mr. Grant hesitated, then shook his head. "Your mother made us promise to keep you hidden from the Langford family. She was terrified that if your grandfather found out about you, he¡¯d force you into politics like he tried with her. You were a child... You wouldn¡¯t have had the strength to resist. And there was no grandmother left to protect you."


    He looked at her solemnly.


    "So, we kept our promise. After her death, the Langfords came and took her body back to Birmingham. Your mother brought a nanny to care for you and left her estate in your name as a safeguard. Your mother arranged for that nanny to be paid for fifty years. It was her way of making sure you were always protected."


    Eleanor wiped at her eyes with a tissue, then asked, "What about her grave in Southern Cemetery? I¡¯ve visited it..."


    Mr. Grant looked guilty. "That grave is empty. She purchased it herself, just in case. We buried an empty coffin to maintain the illusion. Her real body was taken to Birmingham by her family. Not even William knew the truth."


    A chill ran through Eleanor. "So, I never actually visited my mother¡¯s grave."


    "No," he said. "But my sister might be able to help. She attended the burial in Birmingham and had some ties to the Langfords. She still works in politics. If you¡¯d like, I can arrange for you to meet her."


    Eleanor nodded, wiping her tears again. "Yes. Please call her. I want to know everything. I want to visit her grave. I need to."


    Mr. Grant stepped aside and made a quick phone call. A few minutester, he turned back with a smile. "She agreed to meet you tomorrow morning at her office."


    Eleanor stood, her legs slightly shaky. "Thank you, Uncle. And now... let¡¯s go see Aunt. I haven¡¯t seen her in years."


    Mr. Grant offered a gentle smile and extended his arm to her. "She¡¯ll be happy to see you. Let¡¯s go."

 Chapter 33: Ethan’s Sleepover

    <h4>Chapter 33: Ethan¡¯s Sleepover</h4>


    Eleanor returned to her vi around midnight, her heart weighed down by guilt and sorrow. The Grants had revealed so much about her mother that she felt utterly shattered. Her guilt for not respecting or loving her mother had grown exponentially, and she couldn¡¯t even bring herself to hate the Whitmore family anymore. She was mostly angry at herself¡ªfor being so na?ve, so blind. It was now clear how they had slowly fed her false information, brainwashing her into their puppet. The signs had always been there, but she had failed to see them, blinded by misced trust in Jeanne and Jennifer.


    As she entered the house, she saw Ethan sitting in a chair, reviewing some documents. He looked up and immediately noticed her frozen in the doorway. Eleanor¡¯s mind was a storm of emotions; she didn¡¯t know what to do.


    Ethan put his documents aside, stood up, and walked over to her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace. He could feel the chaos inside her, the silent scream forfort. And while he didn¡¯t know what had happened, a simple hug felt like the right thing to do.


    It was the first time he had embraced her since their student days. Although he had been officially pursuing her for over five years, their physical contact had never gone beyond holding hands¡ªand even that had been rare.


    But this time, she clung to him tightly, seeking warmth andfort. They stood in silence, hearts speaking in thenguage of pain and support. While Eleanor found sce in Ethan¡¯s embrace, he was filled with turmoil. What had shaken her so deeply? Not even the traumatic events from six years ago had broken her like this. Though she wasn¡¯t crying, Ethan could feel the heaviness radiating from her like a silent scream.


    After a long while, Eleanor pulled away and whispered, "Thank you. I really needed that."


    Ethan nodded gently. "Freya¡¯s already eaten and is asleep in her room. Why don¡¯t you take a shower first? I¡¯ll set the table for dinner."


    "I¡¯m really not in the mood to eat," Eleanor said tiredly. "I need to sleep. I have a meeting tomorrow morning."


    "But I waited for you. I haven¡¯t had dinner yet," Ethan replied. "Just a little food with me? Then you can go to bed."


    She hesitated, but eventually nodded, appreciating the fact that he had stayed up waiting for her. Without another word, she headed to her room to shower.


    Meanwhile, Ethan set the dinner table himself. The kitchen staff had gone to their quarters hours ago, so he simply warmed the pre-cooked dishes and arranged them neatly. As he waited, he sent a message to find out where Eleanor had gone earlier that evening. The reply came quickly: "Elliot Grant."


    Ethan¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "So she went to meet Grant... it must be something about her past. Or more specifically, her mother. But I won¡¯t pry. If she wants to tell me, she will. I just need to be here for her."


    His thoughts were interrupted when Eleanor entered the dining room. Ethan stood up quickly, uncovering the dishes and serving her silently. She noticed that every dish on the table was one of her favorites.


    "He must have asked the kitchen to prepare all these in case I waste," she thought, a gentle warmth blooming in her heart.


    She avoided looking directly at him, afraid that in her vulnerable state, she might confess emotions she wasn¡¯t ready to face. Instead, she focused on the food and began to eat slowly. Unintentionally, she ate more than usual¡ªher hunger was deeper than she had realized. She silently thanked Ethan for convincing her to eat.


    As a werewolf, her appetite didn¡¯te frequently, but when it did, it was intense¡ªfar beyond a normal human¡¯s needs. Once full, she could feel Ethan¡¯s love radiating through his gaze. Even without looking at him, she could sense the softness in his eyes. A faint blush spread across her cheeks as she hurriedly finished her meal.


    "You finish your dinner," she said, standing up. "I¡¯m tired. Going to bed."


    As she walked away, Ethan said, "I¡¯ll be in the guest room. If you need anything, just call me."


    Her mind screamed in protest. Why don¡¯t you go home? How can I live normally with you under the same roof? But she pushed those thoughts aside and calmly replied, "Okay."


    Once inside her room, she locked the door behind her, changed into her sleeping clothes, andy on the bed. Despite her swirling emotions, the thought of Ethan sleeping in the same house gave her a surprising sense of safety. Her exhaustion finally caught up to her, and she drifted off to sleep the moment her head touched the pillow.


    The next morning, Eleanor woke early. She had slept deeply, and all the fatigue from the previous day had melted away. Feeling refreshed, she freshened up, changed her clothes, and headed to her study. She needed to tie up a few loose ends before heading out.


    After locking the door behind her, she summoned Ophelia.


    "Miss, Ipleted the task you gave me. Here," Ophelia said, handing over three sealed packets. "Each pack contains hair samples from one person. I¡¯vebeled them: 1 is for William, 2 is for Jeanne, and 3 is for Jennifer."


    "Thank you," Eleanor replied, taking the packets. "Now please call the others."


    Soon, all the team members arrived in the study. Eleanor turned to Sebastian. "What¡¯s the result of the interrogation?"


    "Mr. Grant¡¯s secretary was appointed by William Whitmore," Sebastian began. "The kitchen girl came through Jennifer Whitmore, and the guard was nted by the MP of Stockport."


    Eleanor frowned. "I can understand William and Jennifer¡¯s intentions, but why would a Member of Parliament get involved?"


    Sebastian answered, "The guard revealed that Mayor Eliza Grant is nning to run for MP in the uing election. The current MP, who belongs to the same party and is rapidly losing poprity, nted spies to dig up a scandal and discredit the mayor before the election in six months."


    Eleanor asked, "Did he find any scandal on Uncle Grant?"


    Sebastian shook his head. "No, nothing on him. But he did hear that they found some dirt on the mayor¡¯s daughter. She¡¯s currently studying at Caltech. Apparently, they have photos of her taking drugs with some friends in a casino."


    He paused, then continued, "They n to release the scandal just before the nominations. They¡¯ve got someone on the inside... a man in the mayor¡¯s office, in charge of the education support program. Public funds were being funneled to the mayor¡¯s rtives and her neighbors, even though most of them weren¡¯t eligible. They¡¯re nning to pin the me on the mayor right before the election."


    Eleanor frowned as Sebastian added, "They also found out that the mayor hasn¡¯t visited herte husband¡¯s grave in over four years. He was a well-known phnthropist, especially respected for his activism for ck rights in his youth. And considering this constituency has arge African-origin voter base... it could be a major blow."

 Chapter 34: Interrogation Results

    <h4>Chapter 34: Interrogation Results</h4>


    After hearing the report from Sebastian, Eleanor fell silent for a few moments. She thought over the situation carefully and finally decided to get involved. As the sister of Uncle Grant, helping Mayor Grant might be a wise decision for the future.


    She said, "Firstly, I haven¡¯t decided to help Mayor Grant yet. But I might in the future. I want a copy of the said photos. Do not touch the originals. I don¡¯t want to startle the snake unless I decide to kill it."


    She continued, "Find out who is behind the embezzlement of public funds. Then the IT team will investigate the matter thoroughly. As for her husband¡¯s issue, it won¡¯t be a big problem. Also, I want a full investigation on the MP¡¯s current situation. I have no political understanding of the Kingdom. Does n nc have any experts in political matters I can hire?"


    Ophelia said, "I will retrieve a copy of the photos if they¡¯re in the MP¡¯s possession. If it¡¯s a printed copy, that will be easy. But if it¡¯s digital, I will need help from the IT team."


    Eleanor opened a drawer and retrieved a small device. "Take this. All you have to do is turn on the MP¡¯s personalputer and ce this device within one meter of it. Then press the red button in the center. No need to enter a password or anything. Just power it on. Make sure no one is around theputer at that time. Then send me a message, and I¡¯ll take care of the rest."


    Ophelia took the device and nodded. "Okay. I¡¯ll go there tonight."


    Sebastian said, "There will be many people at the mayor¡¯s office. If we want to investigate everyone, we¡¯ll need more manpower. Besides, if we¡¯re all busy with tasks outside, who will handle your security?"


    Eleanor replied, "I think you don¡¯t know why only Elizabeths can be the head of the Raynor n. Your elders either forgot to teach you or deliberately avoided the topic. As you¡¯re my people now, I¡¯ll tell you one thing... when an Elizabeth uses their bloodline power, it¡¯sparable to a natural disaster. We refrain from acting because we don¡¯t want to cause destruction. That¡¯s why we carry such arge security force. But your point is valid. I need more security personnel. I¡¯ll call Grandpa Dominic for support."


    Sebastian said, "If you¡¯re calling the n Head, please ask for more shadow guards. Currently, fifty guards are on duty to protect you and the young miss, but we only have six shadow guards."


    Isadora added, "Raphael¡¯s mother is a political expert. She once worked as the Private Secretary of a Prime Minister. Her name is Juliette nc. If you can hire her, she could be a valuable asset."


    Eleanor said, "Okay. Any other suggestions before I call Grandpa Dominic?"


    Ophelia said, "There are several members in our n who have shadow power but aren¡¯t skilled inbat. They weren¡¯t eligible to be shadow guards and are doing normal jobs. If you hire them, they could add value to your team."


    Eleanor asked, "How many of them are women?"


    "I think more than twenty," Ophelia replied.


    Eleanor nodded. "Okay. I¡¯ll ask Grandpa Dominic about them. Thank you."


    She then called Dominic nc. "Hello, Grandpa. How are you?"


    Dominic responded, "I¡¯m fine, Eleanor. You¡¯re calling early... did something happen?"


    She smiled. "No, Grandpa. I just need your help. After yesterday¡¯s attack, I¡¯ve been thinking about upgrading my security team. If you could deploy more shadow guards, it would be a great help."


    Dominic sighed. "In that case, I won¡¯t be much help. All the shadow guards I can spare are already under your n¡¯s employment. The next batch of trainees won¡¯t be ready for another six months. I can send more security guards if needed, but for shadow guards, you¡¯ll need to talk to your n Head."


    Eleanor said, "Thank you for the advice. I¡¯ll call Grandmater. I also heard there are members of your n with shadow power who aren¡¯t shadow guards. Can you send them to me?"


    Dominic said, "Yes, there are a few. But they mostly work in various positions within human society. Are you sure you want them? Theyckbat skills... that¡¯s why they didn¡¯t be shadow guards."


    Eleanor replied, "That¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll deploy them for jobs they¡¯re good at. Their powers will still be useful. Please send them a message that I¡¯m offering employment as personal staff or positions in mypany. They will receive sries from Heimdall Technologies, which currently offers the highest pay in the kingdom. As members of n nc, they don¡¯t need to apply through formal channels. They can send their CVs to Sebastian nc, and I¡¯ll personally review them."


    Dominic said, "That I can do. You¡¯ll have a result by tomorrow."


    Eleanor added, "I have another request, Grandpa. I want to employ Juliette nc. Is that possible?"


    Dominic sighed again. "That¡¯ll be difficult. She¡¯s over 200 years old now and has retired. She¡¯s writing history books these days. As a former public figure, she can¡¯t even go outside without a disguise. I doubt she¡¯ll agree to work again."


    Eleanor said earnestly, "Grandpa, please just send her a message that I¡¯d like to meet her... just one meeting. I will always respect her choice."


    Dominic agreed. "Okay. That can be arranged."


    "Thank you, Grandpa. I¡¯ll call youter."


    She ended the call and turned to the n nc members in front of her. "I¡¯ll be depending on you. Please contact your family members who might be willing to join us. I¡¯ll buy the surrounding vis for your n so you can stay close and won¡¯t have any amodation problems."


    Sebastian nodded. "That¡¯s a good idea. It¡¯ll help with perimeter security."


    Eleanor smiled. "Good. You all can go rest now. I¡¯ll head to Stockport in two hours."


    All six of them dissolved into shadows and exited the study.


    Eleanor then picked up her phone and dialed Fiona¡¯s number.


    "Eleanor, I thought you¡¯d call mest night after the incident," Fiona said as she picked up.


    Eleanor replied, "Good morning, Grandma. It was a small matter. If the supernatural world had been involved, I would¡¯ve called you immediately."


    "I figured. How¡¯s my great-granddaughter doing?" Fiona asked.


    "She was brave. Ethan came shortly after the incident, and they yed together. I think she¡¯s already forgotten about it."


    "That¡¯s good. But I think you should stay with her today, just in case the memory resurfaces. If you have important work, send her to my vi."


    "Don¡¯t worry, Ethan is here to apany her," Eleanor replied.


    "Oh! Did he stay overnight?" Fiona asked teasingly.


    "Yes, and we are not together," Eleanor replied, enunciating each word.


    On the other side, Fionaughed heartily.

 Chapter 35: Meeting with Mayor Grant

    <h4>Chapter 35: Meeting with Mayor Grant</h4>


    When Eleanor reached Stockport Town Hall, it was almost time for her meeting with the Mayor. She stepped out of her car and gave a firm nod to her security team, instructing them to remain outside. With measured steps, she walked up to the reception desk.


    "Hello, I have an appointment with the Mayor in ten minutes. The name is Eleanor Langford," she said, her voiceposed and professional.


    The receptionist quickly made a call to the Mayor¡¯s office to confirm her appointment. After a moment, she smiled politely and handed Eleanor a visitor badge.


    "You¡¯re all set. One of our security personnel will escort you to the Mayor¡¯s office," the receptionist said.


    The uniformed guard led her through the wide corridors of the historic building. When they arrived at the designated office, a woman at a desk stood and approached.


    "Are you Miss Eleanor Langford?" the woman asked.


    "Yes," Eleanor replied, her tone polite but reserved.


    "Please follow me. Madam Mayor is expecting you."


    The woman led her through the door into a spacious, well-lit office. It had an air of old-world charm, with oak furniture, a towering bookshelf, and a collection of framed des and photographs. Behind the desk, a woman was scribbling something into a notebook. Though the lines beside her eyes and streaks of white in her hair spoke of her age, her aura was vibrant andmanding.


    As the footsteps reached her ears, the Mayor nced up. Her eyesnded on Eleanor¡¯s face and widened slightly with recognition. A smile tugged at her lips as emotion flickered across her expression.


    "You almost look like sister Esmeralda when she was young," the Mayor said softly, her voice touched by nostalgia. "I had my doubts when Elliot called mest night... but seeing you now, I would¡¯ve believed you were her daughter even without the call."


    Eleanor bowed her head slightly. "Greetings, Madam Mayor. I am Eleanor Langford... currently known as Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. It¡¯s an honor to meet you."


    The Mayor stood and gestured to a chair in front of her with a smile. "You can call me Aunt. Your mother was like a sister to me. Please, have a seat."


    Eleanor took the offered chair, her posture poised but rxed. "Thank you."


    The Mayor turned to her secretary and said, "Please close the door... and make sure no one interrupts this meeting."


    "Yes, Madam," the secretary replied and left, gently closing the door behind him.


    The Mayor turned her attention back to Eleanor. "I still can¡¯t believe sister Esmeralda had a daughter and that everyone kept you hidden from me. Even my foolish brother didn¡¯t say a word until yesterday."


    Eleanor¡¯s expression remained calm. "That¡¯s because my mother made them promise to keep my existence secret, out of fear of the Langford family. She wanted me to grow up independently, without the influence or danger that came from her past. After I asked Uncle Grant to contact you, he finally told you the truth."


    The Mayorughed quietly, a wistful sound. "That does sound like something your mother would do. She nearly hated her father back then," she said, then quickly corrected herself. "Forgive me... I¡¯m speaking too freely. It¡¯s just... I¡¯m overwhelmed."


    "It¡¯s fine," Eleanor said gently. "I¡¯ve learned a few things about the Langfords from Uncle Grant. I know the situation was...plicated."


    The Mayor nodded thoughtfully. "You said your surname is Raynor. Are you rted to the Raynor family by blood?"


    "No. I was adopted into the Raynor family," Eleanor replied.


    "I met Ethan Raynor yesterday," the Mayor remarked. "Do you know him?"


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes flickered for a moment. She hadn¡¯t expected his name toe up. "Yes, we know each other. He¡¯s close to me... and he¡¯s aware of my connection to Uncle Grant. That means he knows about you, too. He won¡¯t do anything to harm you. But if you ever need anything, feel free to reach out to me directly."


    "Ethan must be ying with Freya right now," she thought with a slight smile. She herself didn¡¯t know how her mood changed upon hearing his name. But the Mayor observed it all. After all, dealings with people were her main job.


    The Mayor smiled. "It was just a business meeting, nothing to worry about. I simply remembered him when I heard your name."


    Eleanor took a deep breath. "Actually, one of the reasons I came today was to learn more about my grandparents and the Langford family. I¡¯ve never visited my mother¡¯s grave. I¡¯d like to do that now... so many years have passed. Uncle Grant told me my grandfather is still alive. I want to meet him, if possible."


    The Mayor¡¯s eyes softened. "The Langford Castle is well-known; you can easily find it online. They have a private cemetery within the estate, and your mother was buried there. As for your grandfather, I haven¡¯t had much contact with the family recently. Thest time I saw him, he was the Leader of the House of Lords. He¡¯s since retired, and his younger brother was nominated as the Earl of Birmingham. They¡¯re not politically active anymore... just handling ceremonial responsibilities. I do still have your grandfather¡¯s number. I¡¯ll send it to you."


    She saved Eleanor¡¯s contact information and forwarded the number to her.


    "You¡¯ve been a great help," Eleanor said, smiling softly. "Before I go, there¡¯s one more thing. I heard you¡¯re nning to run for the next General Election from this constituency. Is that true?"


    The Mayor leaned back and folded her hands. "Yes. I¡¯ve been working on it for the past three years. The current MP¡¯s poprity is waning. I think I have a real shot."


    Eleanor¡¯s demeanor shifted subtly, her tone bing cooler and more serious. "If you decide to run, I can help you behind the scenes. But you have to fight for the home office. I need someone there. Just remember, politics can get dirty. Your opponents won¡¯t fight fair. I can protect you from them."


    The Mayor raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden shift. She studied Eleanor for a moment before asking, "What¡¯s the catch?"


    Eleanor met her gaze. "I only want one thing in return... an introduction to MI5. That¡¯s all. No financial favors, no strings attached. You don¡¯t have to worry about my motives."


    The room fell silent for a moment as the Mayor considered the proposal.


    "Please give me some time," she said atst. "I hadn¡¯t nned that far ahead. I was only preparing to run for MP, not for something of this scale."


    "Take your time," Eleanor said, standing. "I¡¯ll be leaving now. I intend to visit Birmingham next."


    The Mayor stood as well and walked her to the door. "I hope this won¡¯t be thest time we meet."


    "I¡¯m sure it won¡¯t be," Eleanor replied with a polite smile.


    Once outside the Town Hall, Eleanor stepped back into her car. "Heimdall Tower," she instructed the driver.


    As the car pulled away, she checked her phone, which had been on silent during the meeting. Several missed calls shed on the screen... one from Teresa, and two from Elliot Grant.


    She called Elliot first to reassure him and gave him a brief overview of her discussion with the Mayor... omitting the part about her offer.


    Next, she dialed Teresa. The call connected almost immediately.


    "Boss, we found her," Teresa said without preamble. "Isabe Thomas. The match is perfect based on your description. She¡¯s currently in Balsall Heath, Birmingham. Lives alone. Her only son works at the Department for Work and Pensions in London. My people are watching her now. Do you want us to bring her to Manchester?"


    Eleanor¡¯s voice was firm. "No. I¡¯ming to the office now. Get the Range Rovers ready... we¡¯re going to make a grand appearance in Birmingham. I n to visit Langford Castle... and I want the Langford family to know that Eleanor Langford has arrived."

 Chapter 36: The Langford Castle

    <h4>Chapter 36: The Langford Castle</h4>


    Langford Castle was arge, old building that had clearly seen better days. Built during the Victorian era by Alexander Langford, the first Earl of Birmingham from the Langford family, it had once stood as a symbol of grandeur and influence. Over the years, however, theck of proper care had allowed time to take its toll, and the castle had slowly fallen into disrepair. Still, even in its weathered state, anyone who gazed upon it could feel the lingering power and history it embodied.


    The estate spanned more than fifty acres, surrounded by a dense thicket of trees and overgrown patches ofnd. The front gate opened directly onto the Middleway, while the rear of the castle bordered the Birmingham Canal. On either side, the once-secluded castle now pressed against the rising concrete walls of the city¡¯smercial district, making it look like a remnant of the past trapped in the heart of modernity.


    Within the boundaries of the estate stood several smaller buildings, all showing signs of simr decay. The guard post at the entrance was empty, and no one seemed to be watching over the gate. A wide concrete road stretched from the main gate to the castle, nked by rows of trees and bushes: Fern-leaved Beech, London ne, Dove Tree, Rhododendrons, and several others. The road was nketed in fallen leaves, indicating it hadn¡¯t been cleaned for days.


    The once vibrant life of the Langford estate had faded. Few staff members remained... a handful of stable boys, gardeners, and aged guards kept the castle barely functional. The grounds that once bustled with activity were now silent, deste. Only the wind whispered through the trees, carrying echoes of the past.


    Inside, however, the grand hall pulsed with tension. Langford Park... a piece ofnd owned by the family in the city center, which was once a gift to the people by the first Earl. For generations, it had served as a public park. Its poprity had waned over the years as families moved to the suburbs, but it remained a haven for office workers and pedestrians seeking rest or solitude.


    Due to the Langford family¡¯s declining wealth, several local politicians had begun eyeing the estate. They couldn¡¯t confront the family directly... their legacy of phnthropy stillmanded public respect... so instead, they conspired to weaken them through subtler means: legal obstacles, zoning issues, and media pressure.


    One such politician was Councillor Louis Turner. Tall and handsome with a schrly air, he appeared kind and intelligent at first nce. A former schrship student and academic achiever, his fall from grace began in university, where he became entangled with international smugglers. The illicit trade made him wealthy overnight, and heundered his gains into real estate investments. When whispers of his sudden fortune grew too loud, he abandoned smuggling and sought political power.


    Since Langford Park wasn¡¯t included in any government development ns and was privately owned, Louis had been eyeing thend for years. However, due to the Langford family¡¯s high social standing, he couldn¡¯t seize the property by force. Thend¡¯s current market value was also far beyond his reach, making a direct purchase impossible. He had tried partnering with local businessmen, but none were willing to go against the influential Langford family or risk losing public support.


    Eventually, he found an American investor who recognized thend¡¯s potential and was eager to build a grandmercial city. Louis had made several offers to the Langfords, but they remained unmoved. In a desperate attempt, he brought Brian Morgan, the American businessman, with him today to make one final offer. This time, he nned tobine a generous price with intimidation.


    As a prominent foreign investor, Brian was permitted to bring armed bodyguards into the Kingdom. Louis was well aware that the Langfords relied on elderly, unarmed guards for security. His true intention was to pressure them into signing the contract today... by force, if necessary. Louis had already informed the local MP of his n and felt emboldened.


    After a long discussion filled with polite offers and no fruitful results, Louis became irritated. He decided to go all out.


    "Mr. Langford," Louis began, his voice tight with veiled contempt, "you are the Earl, yes. But do you have the resources to uphold that title anymore? Look around you... no staff, no funds. Why stubbornly cling to that small patch ofnd? It generates no ie. I¡¯m offering far above market value out of respect. I could have moved through other channels."


    Walter Langford, the current Earl of Birmingham, listened in silence. His expression remained calm, but his eyes scanned the faces of his few remaining staff... many looked anxious. What the councilor said wasn¡¯t entirely untrue, yet Walter couldn¡¯t bring himself to betray his lineage. The park was a gift from his ancestor to the people; selling it would be a disgrace.


    He thought bitterly, "It¡¯s a relief my children and grandchildren are in London. If they saw this, they¡¯d cause a scene. Since my elder brother¡¯s retirement, these new politicians have be brazen. They forget he was once the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal."


    Walter stood his ground. "Mr. Councilor, I understand your concern. But my ancestor dedicated thatnd to the people. It was Birmingham¡¯s first formal park and holds deep historical value. We may be struggling, but we won¡¯t abandon our duty to the public. Your offer is generous, but I must decline."


    He emphasized the word park, deliberately reframing thend not as property, but as heritage.


    Brian Morgan stepped forward next, his tone smooth and persuasive. "Mr. Langford, I respect your values. On top of what Louis offered, I¡¯m prepared to add another million pounds to any offshore ount of your choice. This is a goodwill gesture. Think about what you could do with that money... revitalize this estate, fund schrships, support charities. There are many ways to help the people."


    Again, silence filled the hall.


    Walter finally spoke. "I appreciate your generosity, Mr. Morgan. But still, I must refuse. The park is not mine to sell. It belongs to the legacy of this family, and to the people of Birmingham."


    Louis, who had now spent more than an hour negotiating, reached the limit of his patience. His tone turned sharp. "Your brother is in the hospital with no hope of recovery. If something happens to you, can your children really defend thatnd? You¡¯re alone, Mr. Langford."


    At this, murmurs rose from the staff. The disrespect was too much. Butler Graham Langford, a distant rtive of the family and one of the few remaining loyal retainers, stepped forward.


    "How dare you!" he shouted, his voice quivering with rage. "Youe into our castle, threatening our Lord? You think winning a small election makes you untouchable? You are a mere councilor! If you don¡¯t leave now, I¡¯ll call the police myself!"


    Just then, the armed guard stationed at the entrance burst into the hall, rushing over to Brian. He whispered something urgently into his employer¡¯s ear.


    Brian¡¯s expression darkened.

 Chapter 37: The Return of the Lady

    <h4>Chapter 37: The Return of the Lady</h4>


    In front of Langford Castle, only a few people could be seen doing odd jobs around the area. Two cars were parked to the side. A few children were ying football nearby, not paying much attention to anything. Everything outside the castle was calm and peaceful.


    The silence was suddenly broken by a convoy of cars speeding in through the main gate, sending fallen leaves flying in their wake. The hum of engines echoed across the castle grounds.


    Ten ck Range Rovers came to a halt in front of the castle, one behind the other, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. The sight caused a stir. More than thirty armed guards stepped out of the vehicles and took up strategic positions around the area. Once the perimeter was secured, the driver of the middle car exited and walked to the back, opening the rear door.


    A tall, graceful, and strikingly beautiful young woman stepped out of the car and stood still for a moment. She wore a deep purple, handmade cashmere-striped business suit that enhanced her natural elegance. On her feet were special edition Amethyst high heels, boosting her height to over six feet. She looked around with an air of authority, then walked gracefully into the castle through the front door.


    Another woman emerged from the opposite side of the car. She was Asian, tall, and well-proportioned, dressed in a sleek ck business suit. She hurriedly followed the first woman.


    While one bodyguard remained near the car, the others repositioned themselves... some stationed at the castle entrance, others circling to the back and covering the perimeter. One guard followed the two women into the grand hall, the only area where activity could be sensed.


    Inside the hall, chaos reigned. Two opposing parties were shouting at each other. Butler Graham Langford was frantically trying to contact the police but found his mobile had no signal. Someone had jammed thework. Realizing the gravity of the situation, his face turned pale as he silently prayed for a miracle to prevent impending disaster.


    At that moment, the sharp click of high heels on the concrete floor echoed down the corridor, catching everyone¡¯s attention. Heads turned toward the door as an extraordinarily beautiful young woman entered, followed by the Asian woman in the business suit and a muscr bodyguard.


    The leading womanmented as if speaking to the air, "Oh! It¡¯s lively here. Please, carry on." She and her entourage stood there, their posture suggesting they hade to watch a show.


    The Langford household froze in shock. One name surfaced in everyone¡¯s mind: "Lady Esmeralda Langford." They stared at the neer in disbelief, unable to speak.


    On the other side, Brian Morgan¡¯s face paled as he recognized these women. He knew them well... Miss Eleanor Raynor and her assistant, Miss Teresa Li.


    "Why are these two dangerous women here now? Are they also after thend? I need to leave immediately. This isn¡¯t worth dying over. There will be more chances to make money... if I survive today," he thought, panic rising.


    As a member of the California Chamber of Commerce, Brian had heard many terrifying rumors about these two. Miss Eleanor ran her business empire like a sovereign monarch. Within two years, she had absorbed dozens ofpanies into her conglomerate. Once she targeted apany, it either sold to her or went bankrupt, regardless of its size or strength. Even more disturbing were the directors who had opposed her sometimes vanished without a trace. Though there were numerous reports filed, no concrete evidence had ever been found to implicate her.


    And Teresa Li? She was known in the business world as the Harbinger of Death. Within the CalChamber, there was an ominous saying: "If you see Miss Teresa Li in your office, start praying so that she offers you a fair deal." No one could refuse her... those who did either went bankrupt or disappeared.


    In seconds, Brian adopted his most ttering expression and stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Good afternoon, Miss Raynor, Miss Li. I had no idea you were interested in thisnd. If I had known, I wouldn¡¯t have dared set foot in the Kingdom. Please forgive me. I¡¯ll leave immediately... no, I¡¯ll leave the country."


    Eleanor looked genuinely confused. "Do I know you?" she asked, turning to Teresa.


    Brian quickly interjected, "A woman of your stature wouldn¡¯t know someone like me. I¡¯m just a humble member of the CalChamber. I¡¯ve merely seen you and Miss Li at our programs. Please pardon my boldness. I¡¯ll be leaving right away."


    He turned to a stunned Louis, who had been interpreting all the Langford¡¯s shocked expressions as fear. Brian grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the castle. Louis began to protest but went quiet as he saw the armed guards in full tactical formation outside. He climbed into the car without another word, and the vehicle sped away.


    Inside the grand hall, the Langfords stood frozen,pletely bewildered by what had just urred. These same men, Brian and Louis, had been threatening them mere seconds ago. Now they had fled, seemingly terrified, all because of one woman¡¯s arrival.


    "How powerful is she? What¡¯s her rtion to Lady Esmeralda? Our Lady died many years ago. She couldn¡¯t havee back to life, right?" the staff silently wondered, their minds racing.


    Breaking the heavy silence, Eleanor finally spoke. "I am Eleanor Langford, daughter of Lady Esmeralda Langford. I¡¯vee to visit my rtives and pay my respects at my mother¡¯s grave."


    It was as if a bomb had exploded in the hall.


    After a long pause, Butler Graham Langford was the first to regain hisposure. He bowed deeply. "Wee home, My Lady. It¡¯s an honour to have you among us."


    The rest of the staff, stirred by his words, followed suit and said in unison, "Wee, My Lady."


    Eleanor smiled gently. "Thank you, everyone. I¡¯m happy to see you all. From your appearance, I can tell many of you knew my mother."


    From the main seat, Earl Walter Langford rose slowly and walked in a daze toward Eleanor. He stopped in front of her and reached out with trembling hands to touch her face. The moment his fingers made contact; his body visibly shivered. The authoritative aura he had carried before in front of Louis and Brian dissolved into vulnerability.


    He whispered, almost inaudibly, "How...?!"


    Eleanor didn¡¯t reject his touch. She could feel the emotion from the old man. From what she had heard from Mayor Grant, this man must be her mother¡¯s uncle ¡ª the current Earl of Birmingham, Walter Langford.


    After a few moments, Walter regained someposure and said in a trembling voice, "How could Esmeralda have a daughter and no one informed us? Why didn¡¯t youe back to the family? It must have been tough for you to grow up outside the family. Why didn¡¯t youe back earlier?"


    Tears streamed down his face as he spoke, and in the end, he stopped talking... only holding Eleanor¡¯s face in his palms and crying silently.

 Chapter 38: A Lonely Tombstone

    <h4>Chapter 38: A Lonely Tombstone</h4>


    After nearly an hour of conversation, Eleanor finally grasped the current state of the Langford family. Not long after her mother¡¯s death, her grandfather, Edward Langford, had fallen gravely ill and was forced to pass on the Earl title to his younger brother, Walter Langford.


    Walter had done his best to maintain the family¡¯s estate and influence in the region, but times had changed. With shifting political dynamics and the steady decline of noble power in modern society, it became harder and harder to maintain the bnce. As the family¡¯s ie dwindled over time, so did their sway over regional affairs.


    Walter¡¯s son, Frederick Langford, was currently serving as a Lieutenant Colonel in the Royal Marines. Due to the demands of his position, he couldn¡¯t offer much assistance in running the estate. His daughter, Florence Langford, a respected doctor at The Royal London Hospital, was married and had her own life far removed from the family¡¯s internal affairs. Walter didn¡¯t wish to burden her with the estate¡¯s troubles either.


    Although the Langfords had not yet sold any part of their ancestralnds, they had been forced to cut back on staff and significantly reduce operational expenses. The estate was still running, but just barely.


    Complicating matters further, the family¡¯s waning influence had made them vulnerable to political machinations. Local politicians and council leaders, once reverent toward the Langford name, now treated them as relics of the past. Their absence from public ceremonies, the growing propaganda about the family¡¯s downfall, aggressive buyout offers on theirnd, and even harassment of their staff... it all told the same story: the world was moving on without them.


    Once Eleanor understood everything, she walked over to Walter Langford, who sat quietly in his chair, observing her.


    "I know you must have many questions," Eleanor said gently, "but I only learned about this side of my family yesterday. I had no idea my mother had asked her friends to keep everything hidden from me until I was old enough to make my own decisions. She wanted me to grow up free, away from political maniption. I don¡¯t know what happened between her and my grandfather that made her leave this house and never return, but I believe it must have been serious. Still, she never told me to hold a grudge against anyone here, and I won¡¯t."


    Walter looked at her, his eyes reflecting years of quiet guilt. She continued, her tone firmer now, "So let¡¯s leave the past where it belongs. I¡¯m here now. And from this day forward, you don¡¯t have to worry about petty politicians or greedy opportunists. I¡¯ll handle them. You¡¯ve carried this burden long enough. It¡¯s time for the younger generation to take the reins."


    Walter gave a slow nod, his voice low and heavy with regret. "Your mother was free-spirited. My brother... your grandfather, should have let her live her life the way she wanted. But he tried to force a political marriage. After that, she left and never returned. When she died and came back only in death, it broke your grandfatherpletely. He never recovered."


    Eleanor gave a small, sad smile. "Let the past remain the past. My mother left behind a sessfulpany. I¡¯ve built my own business empire as well. Money is not an issue. Today, I just want to visit her grave. Could you show me the way?"


    Walter stood, "Of course. Come with me."


    Eleanor turned to the butler. "Grandpa Graham, I¡¯m going to visit my mother¡¯s grave. In the meantime, please go over the estate¡¯s finances with Teresa. She¡¯s an expert and mighte up with a solid recovery n."


    Then she looked back to Walter, "Granduncle, please lead the way."


    Walter led her through the back of the castle. As they stepped outside, he was surprised to see four armed guards already stationed by the rear door. A nce at Eleanor told him everything he needed to know. She acted like their presence waspletely normal. Clearly, they were hers.


    The castle grounds stretched far. It took nearly ten minutes of walking to reach the family cemetery. Along the way, Walter pointed outndmarks... the old orchard, the stables, a crumbling gazebo now overgrown with vines. Eleanor listened quietly, absorbing each piece of history.


    When they finally reached her mother¡¯s grave, a strange, inexplicable sadness settled over her. The tombstone stood quietly among others but somehow felt lonelier than the rest. Eleanor had no memory of her mother. All she knew was that this woman had chosen death over life to give her a chance to live. That fact alone made Eleanor bow her head in reverence.


    The grave was modest, a concrete structure with dense, untended pansies blooming over it. Dry leaves were scattered around, rustling softly in the breeze. There was a simple portrait of her mother as a young woman embedded into the headstone, along with her name and the years she lived. No grand inscriptions, no epitaphs... just a quiet, dignified tribute.


    Eleanor crouched down and began clearing the grave with her hands. Then, quietly, she signaled to one of the guards. Within moments, he returned with a broom. She cleaned the grave slowly, methodically, not caring about the dust that clung to her suit.


    Walter stood a respectful distance away with the guards. His curiosity got the better of him, and he attempted to make small talk with them. But they were tight-lipped and professional. The only information he managed to gather was a single name, Heimdall Technologies. Beyond that, they said nothing. No one wanted to disturb Eleanor¡¯s quietmunion with her mother.


    After a long time, Eleanor stood, gave the grave onest nce, and turned back toward the castle.


    Once seated in the hall again, Eleanor addressed Walter. "Granduncle, I¡¯ll try to visit my grandfather when I go to London. I¡¯lle to see you again whenever I can. I know you still have questions, but we¡¯ll talk about meter. Teresa will handle the estate recovery. If you need anything... money, support, anything... just let her know."


    Then she turned toward the staff gathered in the hall and raised her voice slightly. "Everyone, please listen. Outside of this estate, I am Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. No one must know about my connection to the Langford family. I intend to restore the estate to its former glory, but for that, I¡¯ll need to shift the politicalndscape around here. Being seen as an outsider will be more beneficial to that cause. Do you understand?"


    Everyone nodded, some more solemnly than others. "We understand."


    Satisfied, Eleanor smiled. "Thank you. I¡¯ll be leaving now. If there are any issues, contact Teresa or reach out to me through Heimdall Technologies in Manchester."


    She turned back to Walter. "Granduncle, take care of yourself. I¡¯ll see you again soon."


    Walter rose and walked with her to the front. "Please do visit. This house has been too quiet for far too long."


    Eleanor gave him a warm nod before stepping into her vehicle. Teresa followed, and the convoy of ck cars started rolling down the driveway.


    Walter stood by the castle steps, watching the impressive line of cars and heavily armed guards disappear into the distance. With a long sigh, he said, "It feels like a dream... Esmeralda gave birth to such a daughter. The entire time she was here, it felt like she was the lord of the estate, not me. Maybe it¡¯s time I step aside and let the younger generation take charge."


    Butler Graham, standing beside him, nodded slowly. "Indeed. She carried herself like a queen."

 Chapter 39: A Mother’s Love

    <h4>Chapter 39: A Mother¡¯s Love</h4>


    In the car, Eleanor called Ethan. After a few rings, he picked up.


    "Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice filled with urgency.


    Eleanor paused. She realized she only ever called Ethan when something serious had happened. Today was no different... though the reason wasn¡¯t dramatic, she was emotional. Visiting her mother¡¯s grave had stirred feelings she hadn¡¯t anticipated. She wanted to talk to her daughter. And since Ethan was with Freya, she reached out.


    "I¡¯m fine," she finally said. "Is Freya behaving?"


    "Yes. She¡¯s been a good girl. You don¡¯t have to worry. I¡¯ll stay with her until you get back."


    "Thank you. After yesterday¡¯s incident, I just couldn¡¯t rx knowing she was only with her nanny."


    "Don¡¯t mention it. She¡¯s my daughter too."


    A lump rose in Eleanor¡¯s throat. She had never asked Ethan to be involved, yet he had stepped up without question.


    "I just visited my mother¡¯s grave..." she whispered, her voice trailing off.


    Sensing her shift in mood, Ethan responded gently, "Don¡¯t be sad. Freya¡¯s been asking for you. Talk to her. It¡¯ll help."


    He quickly handed the phone to their daughter, eager to lift Eleanor¡¯s spirits.


    "Hello, Mommy! When are youing back?" Freya¡¯s cheerful voice rang out.


    "I need a little more time, sweetheart. I¡¯ll be back this evening."


    "Okay! I¡¯m ying with Daddy. But you shoulde back soon... I missed you."


    "I miss you too. Be a good girl and don¡¯t tire Daddy out. I¡¯ll bring you a gift."


    "I want ice cream!"


    Eleanorughed. "Then ice cream it is."


    The mother and daughter talked for a few more minutes. Meanwhile, the convoy sped along the highway toward Edgbaston, the wind brushing against the tinted windows like a soft whisper.


    ***


    At the Grand Birmingham Hotel, in the top-floor presidential suite, Brian Morgan paced anxiously with his phone in hand. His forehead was creased with frustration as he awaited a call confirming his emergency flight to Los Angeles.


    Louis Turner watched him with a frown. "Mr. Morgan, I really don¡¯t get it. Why is someone like you so rattled about a young woman? What¡¯s her background?"


    Brian sighed and finally stopped pacing. "It¡¯s okay if you don¡¯t understand. As your friend, I¡¯m telling you her identity... but don¡¯t share this with anyone. Now, listen carefully."


    He paused, making sure Louis was paying attention.


    "Her name is Eleanor Raynor. She¡¯s not from a political family, but from a business family that remained at the top even before the First Industrial Revolution. As far as I know, the Raynor family began their business right here in Manchester. During the colonial era, they expanded across the globe alongside the Kingdom. They focused primarily onmerce and umted great wealth for the nation. In the post-colonial period, while most major yers withdrew their investments from former colonies, the Raynors invested in the newly independent nations and rose to be a major global financial power. Their family members are now spread across the world, each running independent ventures."


    Louis blinked. "That sounds... impressive. But what does that have to do with you?"


    Brian arched a brow. "Tell me, who do you think is the most powerful person in the business world?"


    Louis shrugged. "Warren Buffett? Jeff Bezos? Bill Gates?"


    Brian cut him off. "Wrong. That¡¯s what I used to think too, before I became a core member of the Chamber. I¡¯m giving you a valuable lesson as a friend. You know those names because they¡¯re the richest people in the public eye. But behind the scenes, there are several powerful families with wealth equivalent to a hundred Bill Gates or Warren Buffett. They don¡¯t seek the limelight... that¡¯s why they divide their assets under different names. Normally, they stay low-key. But when they act, the whole family moves as one."


    Louis was astonished. "How?"


    Brian said, "Let me tell you about Eleanor Raynor. She suddenly arrived in San Francisco three years ago with a British passport. After her arrival, she registered an ITpany in Silicon Valley. Can you guess what her initial investment was?"


    Louis pondered for a moment and said, "One... no, ten million dors?"


    Brianughed, "You couldn¡¯t even imagine it. One billion dors! One billion! With that single investment, she became a VIP in all of California. The state became her loyal supporter. Do you know how she established her business?"


    Without waiting for Louis to answer, he continued, "She started roaming around Silicon Valley and Wall Street. She poached several highly skilled employees from otherpanies. Then, her people began visiting promising businesses and buying them out. Those who sold theirpanies at least got their money back. But those who didn¡¯t sell found theirpanies going bankrupt, only to be acquired by Miss Raynor at a fraction of the price. In just two years, herpany became one of thergest ITpanies in Silicon Valley."


    Louis said, "Now I understand why you acted like this. You also helped me avoid unknowingly pissing off someone powerful. Thank you."


    Brian shook his head, "No. You still don¡¯t get the point. I¡¯ll tell you what I know for sure. When Miss Raynor moved to San Francisco, she rented a high-end apartment and started living there. Opposite her apartment lived one of the girlfriends of the owner of the apartmentplex. He was the wealthiest businessman in the housing sector in the region. Even the Governor of California had to show respect to him at social asions."


    He paused, then continued, "Miss Raynor asked his girlfriend to make less noise at night, but due to her connections, she behaved rudely with her. Miss Raynor thenined to the housing office. Instead of solving the problem, the housing office asked her to change apartments. Can you guess what Miss Raynor did next?"


    Louis gathered his courage and said, "She bought the whole building?"


    Brian shook his head in resignation, "Within one week, that businessman was arrested for forgery of documents, viting zoningws and building codes, moneyundering, tax evasion, and many other charges. His extramarital affairs made headlines in every newspaper. His unsightly nude videos with his lovers flooded online. In the second week, his wife filed for divorce. Hispany went bankrupt. He was socially and economically finished. Then Miss Raynor bought the Sky City... that was the name of the apartmentplex, which was built as an independent city. Now, that is the headquarters of Miss Raynor¡¯spany. Only her employees currently live in that city."


    Brian paused, then added, "That was not all. I heard that several directors of variouspanies have gone missing after opposing her. These days, she doesn¡¯t move in business circles. But her secretary is doing her job. Do you know what her Asian secretary¡¯s nickname is in the California businessmunity?"


    He paused dramatically and said, "The Harbinger of Death!"


    The room fell into a heavy silence.


    A few minutester, Brian¡¯s phone rang. He snatched it up.


    "Sir," his assistant reported, "we¡¯ve secured seven seats on a KLM Cityhopper flight in six hours. Thepany¡¯s private jet is en route, but it¡¯ll take ten hours to reach you. We tried chartering other jets capable of crossing the Antic, but they¡¯re all unavable right now."


    He angrily threw the phone on the bed and cursed, "Fuck!" then asked Louis, who was sitting on the bed, "Do you have any other way to send me out of the Kingdom?"


    At that moment, he heard a deep voice from behind.


    "Interesting!"

 Chapter 40: A Business Proposal

    <h4>Chapter 40: A Business Proposal</h4>


    Brian and Louis both turned toward the voice and saw a man seated on the wingback armchair of the room. From the deep voice, they could tell it was a man, though his entire body was concealed in sleek ck armor, including a ck face mask. The only visible part of him was his eyes... cold, sharp, and fixed on them.


    He sat with one foot nted firmly on the floor and the other leg casually slung over his knee in a figure-four position. His hands rested confidently on the armrests, giving off the impression that he owned the ce.


    Both men were visibly shocked. They hadn¡¯t noticed anyone entering the room and had no idea how or when he got in.


    Breaking the silence, the ck-masked intruder spoke again. "Mr. Morgan, why the rush? You crossed the Antic to do business here. There¡¯s no need to return empty-handed. Miss Li has a business proposal for you. The Langford family will provide thend you wanted. In exchange, you¡¯ll build a small park with modern facilities essible to the public for free. The rest of thend will be developed by you. Langfords will hold 51% of the shares, Miss Li 19%, and you will retain 30%."


    "If you agree," he continued, "submit a detailed n to Miss Li at Heimdall Technologies in Manchester. Don¡¯t worry... Miss Li will invest ording to her share. You won¡¯t lose. But if you don¡¯t wish to do business with her, you¡¯re free to leave the kingdom... after I leave your room."


    He paused briefly before adding, "Oh! I almost forgot. I have an important message for you. Mr. Morgan, Miss Li said she loves the Mission Blue Butterfly. And Mr. Turner, your friend Juan David is currently having breakfast at his home in Usaqu¨¦n, Bogot¨¢, Colombia."


    A chill ran down both men¡¯s spines. Despite the room¡¯s air conditioning, sweat beaded on their foreheads.


    The masked man looked at them yfully and said, "Gentlemen, please look at your window."


    Involuntarily, they turned to the window. There was nothing there... no shadow, no figure... nothing suspicious in or outside. The room fell into an eerie silence.


    Suddenly, Brian jolted at the sound of his phone ringing. He grabbed it from the bed. "Hello?"


    His secretary¡¯s excited voice echoed from the other end. "Sir, all the airnes suddenly became avable. You cane to San Francisco anytime. Should I book a private or public flight?"


    Brian turned to the chair, only to find it empty...pletely vacant, as if no one had ever been sitting there. He ended the call without answering and called out, "Louis!"


    Louis looked at him. "What?"


    "Look at the chair."


    Louis turned and was struck with the same disbelief. His voice trembled as he asked, "What just happened?"


    Brian replied, "Apparently, I couldn¡¯t charter a ne or book any seat because of this meeting. Miss Li must have blocked all ticket sales and private charters. Now that the meeting is over, I¡¯m free to leave."


    Louis grinned, relieved. "Then book the flight. Let¡¯s go to the airport."


    Brian sat down on the bed, his legs trembling. "I can¡¯t go now. Didn¡¯t you hear what that man said?"


    Louis frowned. "What? He talked about business and said you were free to choose. Sure, he tried to threaten me using my friend¡¯s name, but I¡¯ve covered my tracks. Besides, it¡¯s easy to find out where someone powerful like him lives in Usaqu¨¦n."


    Brian looked at him with pity. "You won¡¯t understand unless you call your friend. Ask him where he is doing right now."


    "Okay," Louis said, dialing. "Hello, Juan. How are you?"


    "Louis, my friend! I¡¯m fine. Are you in Colombia?"


    "No, I just remembered you. We haven¡¯t met in ages. By the way, where are you now?"


    "I¡¯m at home, having breakfast. Why?"


    "I was just thinking of visiting Bogot¨¢. I¡¯ll let you know if I can make time. Enjoy your breakfast. Bye."


    Louis ended the call and looked at Brian questioningly.


    Brian asked, "Is your friend exactly where that man said he would be?"


    Louis nodded. "Yes."


    Brian continued, "You¡¯re confident you covered all your tracks. But if your friend everes to the Kingdom, will the situation still be the same?"


    Louis scoffed. "Why would hee here? He has an arrest warrant for a drug smuggling case..."


    He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in horror.


    Brian smiled knowingly. "Exactly. You¡¯ve covered your tracks, but the one loose end is your friend. Believe me, when that man mentioned his location, it wasn¡¯t a guess. He¡¯s under surveince. They could kidnap him anytime and hand him over to the police here, destroying you in the process. You¡¯ve never dealt with these big yers before, so it¡¯s taking time for you to grasp the situation."


    Louis said, "But why threaten me? I¡¯m not even part of their business proposal."


    Brian replied, "Maybe they want you to keep quiet. Or maybe they¡¯re counting on your cooperation in the future. You¡¯ll understand soon enough."


    "But they didn¡¯t threaten you. Why don¡¯t you want to leave now?"


    Brian hesitated. "I wasn¡¯t going to tell you, but since we¡¯re both in this together, I¡¯ll share. He did threaten me. Remember when he talked about the Mission Blue Butterfly? I own a luxury apartment building located within the restricted habitat of that butterfly. Although none have been seen there since 1996, the area is still protected. They could destroy my career using that one piece of information."


    Louis looked even more horrified. "How could they gather all this intel so quickly? I¡¯m sure they never saw me before today."


    Brian said, "You¡¯ve been after the Langford family¡¯snd for years. Did they ever sell it to you? Or even offer a partnership? No. Did you see any of these people before today? Again, no. Yet, in mere minutes, they secured thend that you couldn¡¯t get in years. These are powerful people. They have means beyond ourprehension. But this might work out for you. If you y it right, you could benefit. I have no choice but to work with them. Join me, and I¡¯ll secure Miss Raynor¡¯s backing for you."


    Louis hesitated. "Will it really be okay?"


    Brian nodded. "Don¡¯t worry. When I go to meet Miss Li with the development proposal, I¡¯ll take you with me."


    He paused before adding, "Now please order some food to be delivered here. I need to call my office and draft a new proposal as soon as possible."


    They both got to work, still shaken but aware of the gravity of the opportunity... and threat they had just witnessed.


    ***


    Edward Road, Balsall Heath, Birmingham.


    Eleanor¡¯s convoy pulled over to the side of the road. To avoid creating a scene, she instructed her entourage to remain inside the vehicles. Only she and Teresa stepped out.


    A man who had been waiting near a local food store approached them and bowed slightly. "Good afternoon, Madam. Please follow me."


    The two women followed him through Eastwood Road and stopped in front of a small, somewhat run-down terraced house. Unlike its neighbors, it had no flowers in the front garden.


    The man confirmed the address and promptly left. Eleanor stepped forward and knocked on the door.

 Chapter 41: Another Grandma

    <h4>Chapter 41: Another Grandma</h4>


    The day started like any other for Isabe Thomas. Nearing sixty, she had been retired for years. Throughout her life, she worked as a nanny or a childminder, always surrounded by children. Now, after retirement, her days were quiet... peaceful but undeniably boring.


    A few weeks ago, her peaceful world was shaken when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. The diagnosis hit her hard, not just physically but emotionally. Though the NHS assured her that all diagnostic tests, treatment, surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and follow-ups would be covered, the waiting was excruciating. She had already waited almost a month just to receive her mammogram, ultrasound, and biopsy results after her GP¡¯s referral. Now, she faced another uncertain wait for surgery and chemotherapy.


    Though the NHS promised treatment within forty days, other patients warned her that dys often stretched past two months, citing a shortage of specialists and the overwhelming number of cases. Her only son, who rushed from London upon hearing her diagnosis, pleaded with her to consider private treatment. But she refused. She already knew from online forums that private treatment would cost more than 100,000 pounds, money they simply didn¡¯t have. Her son worked a mid-level government job, barely managing London expenses. Selling her modest house wouldn¡¯t even cover the full cost.


    So, she had sent her son back to London, telling him not to worry. She would wait for the NHS and whatever woulde.


    Her neighbors, somehow learning of her condition, asionally dropped by to lift her spirits. Today, as she was preparing her lunch, she heard a knock on the door. Expecting a neighbor, she walked to the door, forgot the steel turner in hand.


    But when she opened it, she froze.


    A beautiful young woman stood at her doorstep, smiling brightly.


    "Lady Langford... No... Are you... Eleanor?" she asked, her voice trembling with disbelief.


    The young woman nodded and smiled warmly. "It¡¯s been a long time, Aunt Be."


    Isabe¡¯s heart leapt, and memories of a small girl she once raised came flooding back. The steel turner slipped from her hand,nding on the carpet with a dull thud as tears welled in her eyes.


    Eleanor stepped forward and embraced her. In that moment, words were unnecessary. Though Eleanor was once only her duty, Isabe had loved her like her own. Despite being a paid nanny, the bond they shared had always been real. Eleanor¡¯s eyes moistened too.


    Being a werewolf only intensified emotional moments like these. Joy, grief, love... everything hit deeper, stronger, rawer.


    Behind Eleanor, Teresa quietly stepped into the house, gently closing the door so as not to disturb the reunion.


    Finally, after what felt like a long embrace, they pulled away. Isabe wiped her eyes and asked, "I haven¡¯t seen you in years. How did you find me here?"


    Eleanor grinned. "You used to tell me stories about your neighborhood... the Edgbaston Stadium, the River Rea. It wasn¡¯t hard to trace you."


    Isabe blinked in surprise. "You remembered all that? You were just a child back then!"


    Eleanor just smiled, not exining that her awakening as a werewolf had sharpened memories once buried deep.


    Then Isabe noticed Teresa, standing politely behind Eleanor. She immediately shifted into host mode. "Oh! You brought a guest with you. Please, sit on the sofa. I¡¯ll make some refreshments."


    Eleanor waved her off gently. "You don¡¯t have to do that. This is Teresa, my secretary and friend."


    Teresa stepped forward, offering a polite greeting. "You might not remember, but I met you once when I was still in primary school."


    Isabe nodded, beginning to recall a young girl with pigtails visiting with Eleanor.


    "Please sit, Aunt Be," Eleanor said, gently guiding her to the sofa. "We need to talk. Teresa, could you turn off the stove? We¡¯ll eat togetherter at a restaurant."


    Teresa gave a nod and headed to the kitchen area.


    Once seated, Eleanor looked into Isabe¡¯s eyes. "Aunt Be, I already know about your diagnosis... about the NHS dys, your financial situation, and your son. I came to take you with me. You¡¯ll get treatment in Manchester."


    Isabe gasped. "No, no. The NHS is providing everything. The cancer is in its early stage. I¡¯ll be fine. And your step-family... they¡¯ll be furious if you spend money on me like this."


    Eleanorughed softly. "You still think I¡¯m with the Whitmore family?"


    Isabe blinked. "You¡¯re not?"


    "I left that house a long time ago," Eleanor said calmly. "And I¡¯m wealthy... on my own terms."


    Isabe frowned, still hesitant. "I appreciate it, truly... but I¡¯m managing fine."


    Seeing her hesitation, Eleanor decided to drop the bombshell. "Don¡¯t you want to meet my daughter?"


    Isabe¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "You have a daughter? How old is she? Why didn¡¯t you bring her?"


    "She¡¯s at home," Eleanor smirked. "But if you want to meet her, you have to follow my instructions. When I was a child, I followed you everywhere. Now it¡¯s your turn."


    She paused dramatically. "We¡¯ll go eat first... something proper. Then, you¡¯lle to Manchester. You¡¯ll get treatment and stay with my daughter. You don¡¯t need to do anything, just be there for her... as the grandmother she¡¯ll never have."


    There was a sadness in Eleanor¡¯s voice that pierced Isabe¡¯s heart. She remembered Lady Langford, Eleanor¡¯s mother, who had hired her to care for the little girl. Had the Whitmores not sacked her, she would¡¯ve stayed with Eleanor for life.


    Finally, she nodded. "Alright... I¡¯ll go. But give me a day or two to prepare the house."


    "There¡¯s no need," Eleanor said, then turned to Teresa. "Call the team. Pack what Aunt Be needs... only what we can¡¯t buy in Manchester. Call someone to buy everything else and send them to my viter."


    Within fifteen minutes, three of Eleanor¡¯s bodyguards had packed up Isabe¡¯s belongings. Boxes and bags were loaded into the cars while Isabe stood quietly, overwhelmed by the speed of everything.


    Once the house was locked, they helped her into the car. The convoy headed out.


    Teresa had already made a reservation at The Cat and Fiddle in Great Barr. They all had a warm, delicious lunch there.


    By the time they arrived at Eleanor¡¯s vi, the sun had dipped below the horizon.


    Hearing the sound of the cars outside, Freya ran out excitedly.


    "Mommy!" she called, but stopped midway when she noticed the elderly woman beside her mother. She stared at her warily, eyes flicking between the two women.


    Eleanor said gently, "Freya, this is my aunt. You can call her Grandma."


    Freya tilted her head, studying Isabe carefully. Great Grandma Fiona and Grandma Selene was younger and full of energy, always ying with her. This new grandma looked... old. Could she even y?


    Still, she was a polite girl.


    "Grandma," she said shyly.


    The single word made Isabe¡¯s heart ache with emotion. Tears welled again in her eyes. She thought of Lady Langford... how things might have been different.


    Freya blinked at her, confused. "Why are you crying?"


    Isabe quickly wiped her cheeks and smiled. "Good girl. I just remembered your original grandma, that¡¯s all. Can I give you a hug?"


    Freya took a step closer but remained puzzled. "Did my Grandma bully you?"


    Eleanor burst intoughter while Isabe chuckled, opening her arms.


    "No, sweetie," she said, pulling her in. "It¡¯s just that you¡¯re too cute."

 Chapter 42: Ethan’s Teachings

    <h4>Chapter 42: Ethan¡¯s Teachings</h4>


    At just five years old, Freya was more intelligent than most children her age. But unlike others who spent their time ying with toys or chasing butterflies in parks, her brilliance was channeled toward programming, puzzles, and academics. She could already solve algebra and geometry problems, grasp basic calculus concepts, and breeze through logic puzzles designed for adults. She knew how to code in multiplenguages, develop simple video games, and create basic apps. On top of that, she could use image editing, video editing, and even sound mixing software with surprising ease... and often beat adults in online strategy games.


    Her memory andprehension skills were exceptional, allowing her to retain and apply vast amounts of information quickly. Eleanor believed it was a rare talent inherited through her bloodline. To nurture and monitor her growth, Eleanor had developed a personalized AI assistant for Freya. This AI acted as a digital mentor, suggesting which games she should y, whatnguages to explore, which puzzles would challenge her, and which books would help her grow.


    Since Eleanor¡¯s work demanded most of her time, the AI became essential in ensuring that Freya¡¯s learning process remained steady and age-appropriate. It gave Eleanor peace of mind knowing her daughter was constantly engaged in meaningful learning, even when she couldn¡¯t be physically present.


    However, there was one area where Freya was undeniablycking... human interaction.


    Back in the U.S., Freya¡¯s only consistentpanion had been a nanny. Because of the risks involved in Eleanor¡¯s life, she kept household staff to a bare minimum for security reasons. Freya was homeschooled, so she didn¡¯t attend any school or have regr ymates. Her closest rtionship... outside of Eleanor... was with her AI.


    Now, watching Freya interact with Isabe, Eleanor felt a quiet ache in her heart. To Isabe, Freya might have seemed like a regr, adorable child. But Eleanor knew better. Her daughter¡¯s mind was abyrinth of intelligence, curiosity, and istion.


    "I hope going to school will help her learn to connect with others... to experience joy with people, not just machines," Eleanor thought, ncing toward the girl with concern.


    "Okay, hug is over," Freya dered, stepping back from Isabe¡¯s warm embrace.


    Isabeughed gently. "Can I give you a kiss then?"


    Freya shook her head, her expression sincere but firm. "No. Daddy said I can only get kisses from Mommy and Daddy. I can also kiss them back. And you just came from outside. There might be germs in your kisses, and I could get sick."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow and turned toward Ethan, who was quietly standing at the doorway.


    "What exactly are you teaching my daughter?" she asked pointedly.


    Before Ethan could defend himself, Freya chimed in innocently, "Yes, Mommy! Daddy said I have to wait until you wash your face and hands before I get your kisses. It¡¯s hygiene."


    Eleanor gave Ethan a long look, clearly unimpressed.


    Realizing the interrogation that was about toe, Ethan quickly nodded to Isabe. "Aunt, I¡¯ll see youter. I have some urgent work to attend to."


    Then, like a man fleeing a battlefield, he disappeared out of view.


    Isabe chuckled. "Is he your husband?"


    Eleanor blushed. "No... We¡¯re not married. But he¡¯s Freya¡¯s father."


    A smart woman who understood when not to press, Isabe smiled knowingly and smoothly changed the topic. "Then let¡¯s head inside. I could really use a warm bath right now."


    Eleanor took Freya¡¯s hand and led them both into the house. Once inside, she turned to the waiting butler. "This is my aunt. Please take her to the guest room next to Freya¡¯s. She¡¯ll be staying here for a few days. Also, contact Teresa and have her send over the items I asked her to buy for Aunt Be."


    The butler gave a polite bow. "Yes, Madam."


    Eleanor then handed Freya over to the nanny and retreated to her own room. After a long shower and a change intofortable loungewear, she made her way to Freya¡¯s room. There, she saw Isabe sitting cross-legged on the carpet as Freya proudly disyed her collection of toys. Laughter echoed off the walls. Isabe¡¯s experience with children allowed her to bond with Freya effortlessly, drawing smiles and giggles from the girl.


    Seeing that moment of joy, Eleanor smiled and quietly backed away, heading to her study.


    She opened herptop and spent the next thirty minutes reviewing documents from her office. After sorting everything out and issuing her digital instructions, she closed theptop and gazed outside of her study.


    "Call Ophelia," she said, already sensing the shadow guards stationed around her home.


    But instead of Ophelia, Sebastian stepped out from the shadows. "Mydy, Ophelia went to retrieve some documents you requested. She didn¡¯t specify what they were."


    Eleanor immediately understood... it was the DNA report.


    "That¡¯s fine. Call the others. We have work to do."


    Within moments, five shadow guards appeared silently in her study.


    "Thank you for your hard work," Eleanor began. "Any new additions to your team today?"


    Sebastian shook his head. "No new recruits."


    Eleanor grabbed her phone and called the n¡¯smand center. "I asked the n Head to send reinforcements. Have you received any updates?"


    "Yes, Madam," came the voice from the other end. "Three new shadow guards from Sussex are en route. They¡¯ll report to you tomorrow. Their mission will be to protect Young Miss, especially since she¡¯ll be attending school soon."


    "Good," Eleanor replied, ending the call.


    She turned back to the guards. "I want a full report on Mayor Grant, her office staff, and the current MP. The IT team is standing by to assist. Sebastian, save this number."


    She sent a secure U.S. number to his phone.


    "In future, if you need to breach someone¡¯s system, call that number. My team will assist remotely. Just ce the device I gave you near theirputer and activate it. I¡¯m also giving you a second device... this is all I have. They¡¯re crafted from satellite-grade material, so don¡¯t lose them."


    Sebastian nodded and epted the new device with care.


    "One more thing," Eleanor continued. "You don¡¯t need to stay in the house when I¡¯m here. Just do your jobs or rest. If you must report something urgent, female guards may enter my bedroom."


    Sebastian frowned. "I don¡¯t agree. If no guards are nearby and someone attacks, you¡¯ll be vulnerable. I insist on keeping one guard close."


    Eleanor sighed. "Fine. Do what you must. Just be safe while you go for an operation. Someone might set up a thermal defense. Don¡¯t underestimate humans."


    "We¡¯ll be cautious," Sebastian assured.


    "Oh, and recruitment... did your n Head act on our ns?"


    "Yes," Sebastian replied. "Word has spread. Some have already shown interest. You¡¯ll meet a few candidates at your office tomorrow morning."


    "What about Juliette nc?"


    Raphael, another guard, spoke up. "The n Head contacted Mom. She said she¡¯s enjoying retirement. If she gets bored, she¡¯ll reconsider."


    "A pity," Eleanor muttered. "We really need someone with political experience. Keep an eye out. Let me know if you find anyone trustworthy."


    Sebastian nodded. "Understood. We¡¯ll continue the investigation now. Elias will remain on duty here."


    Eleanor gave a small nod. "Good. Call me if anything urgentes up."


    As the guards vanished into the shadows, Eleanor sat back down and picked up her phone once again.


    "Lily," she said when the call connected, "I want to establish apany to counter Chen Group¡¯s new investments and imports from China. Reach out to the Nigerian government. I want a personal SEZ near Lekki Deep Sea Port. We¡¯ll go into production within six months. Make the investmentrge... but split into different stages. The first part will target Chen Group. If Nigeria can¡¯t help, find another country that has a trade agreement with the Kingdom."

 Chapter 43: Not His Daughter

    <h4>Chapter 43: Not His Daughter</h4>


    The next morning, after having breakfast with Isabe and Freya, Eleanor went to her study to hear the reports from her shadow team. They were already there, standing in silence, waiting for her arrival.


    As Eleanor settled into her chair, Sebastian began without prelude. "Yesterday, I checked in on Mayor Grant and her secretary. I couldn¡¯t find anything suspicious about the Mayor herself. However, when the IT team intervened, they found several unusual transactions in the secretary¡¯s bank ounts. Although those ounts weren¡¯t publicly registered under her name, her phone contained apps linked to the ounts, along with transaction records."


    He paused, then added, "The IT team said a detailed report will be waiting on your desk by the time you get to the office. Aside from that, we discovered audio recordings of the Mayor¡¯s secret meetings with various politicians and businessmen on the secretary¡¯s devices. There were also...promising photos of the Mayor stored on herptop. All the data will be delivered to your office securely."


    Eleanor nodded calmly, her fingers tapping the armrest thoughtfully.


    Ophelia was next to speak. "Raphael and I investigated the MP¡¯s mansion. He¡¯s careful. We swept the entire property, and the IT team hacked all devices within his residence, but nothing surfaced. Just as we were leaving, Raphael noticed some irregrities in the garage."


    "We conducted a thorough search and discovered a concealed tunnel entrance in the garage. It led to a secret room buried under the garden. It was like a secure vault. Inside, we found several rare paintings, antiques, gold bars, and a substantial amount of cash. Hidden in a steel box were the photographs we were searching for."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Were you able to copy them?"


    Ophelia nodded. "I took pictures of the photos using my mobile, but we didn¡¯t disturb anything else in the vault. The room was under camera surveince, but the IT team reced the footage with a fabricated feed. The steel box also contained several portable hard drives and DVDs, but we didn¡¯t touch those. I haven¡¯t had time to print the photos yet. Would you prefer the soft copies or hard copies?"


    "Keep them for now," Eleanor replied smoothly. "I n to gift them to Mayor Grant during our next meeting."


    "How much cash was there?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.


    Ophelia tilted her head thoughtfully. "I¡¯m no expert, but I¡¯d estimate several million... Euros, Dors, and Poundsbined."


    Eleanor smirked. "That kind of money could easily lead to a by-election. Now, all I need is for Mayor Grant toe into our fold."


    She paused for a moment, then asked, "What about the education support program?"


    Sebastian answered, "We assisted the IT team in hacking the officeputer and personalptop of the man in charge. They¡¯re working on analyzing the data now. You should receive an updateter today."


    "Good work," Eleanor said, rising from her chair. "Thank you, everyone. I¡¯ll head to my office now. You can rest until the afternoon... you¡¯ve all had a rather busy night."


    The shadow guards bowed and exited silently, except for Ophelia... who remained behind.


    She reached into her pocket and handed Eleanor a sealed envelope.


    Eleanor took it and carefully opened the p, pulling out a folded document. Her eyes scanned the DNA results. She took a deep breath and then closed her eyes, a wave of emotion washing over her. It felt like a heavy weight had lifted from her chest.


    As expected, William Whitmore was not her father. Although her biological father¡¯s identity remained a mystery, there was a strange sense of relief. She didn¡¯t carry that man¡¯s blood.


    But what truly surprised her was that Jennifer Whitmore wasn¡¯t William¡¯s biological daughter either. Jeanne Baker, however, was confirmed as Eleanor¡¯s biological mother.


    After several moments of silence, Eleanor looked up at Ophelia. "I assume you have something to say."


    Ophelia nodded. "Yes. The doctor believes there¡¯s a strong chance that Sample 1... William... suffers from Klinefelter Syndrome. That would mean he¡¯s likely infertile. If you want to confirm this, we¡¯ll need to perform a Y-chromosome DNA test. But it requires a blood sample."


    Eleanor pondered for a moment. "Alright. Do it."


    "It will take two to three days to get the results. I¡¯ll notify you as soon as they arrive," Ophelia said.


    "Thank you. I¡¯m not in a rush. Rest today. Begin tomorrow," Eleanor replied.


    Ophelia nodded respectfully, bowed, and left the study.


    Just as Eleanor stood to leave, a knock came at the door.


    "Come in," she called.


    The butler entered with a polite bow. "Madam, Elder Juliette nc hase to see you. I¡¯ve seated her in the lounge."


    "No need. Bring her here," Eleanor instructed.


    "Yes, Madam."


    He left and returned a few minutester, knocking again.


    "Come in."


    The door opened, and a graceful woman walked in. She wore a casual green top and ck pants that entuated her striking appearance. The shade of greenplemented her paleplexion, and her eyes gleamed with a sense of both wisdom and mischief.


    Eleanor stood and greeted her politely. "Good morning, Elder Juliette. I¡¯m honestly surprised to see you. Please, have a seat."


    Although Eleanor could sense Juliette¡¯s beta werewolf nature, she extended respect to the woman¡¯s legendary political career and vast experience.


    Juliette hade prepared to meet an Elizabeth... but even she hadn¡¯t expected the sheer pressure of Eleanor¡¯s presence. Suppressing the difort, she sat down.


    Without wasting time, she asked, "I want to know why you¡¯re interested in politics. As far as I¡¯m aware, no one from the Raynor n has ever been politically active. And you... you¡¯re an Elizabeth. That caught my attention."


    Eleanor smiled. "I appreciate your directness. Let me share a story."


    Over the next ten minutes, Eleanor outlined her businesses, her goals, her long-term strategy, and the endgame she envisioned. She spoke with conviction and rity, painting a future that was ambitious yet practical.


    When she finished, silence hung in the air for several moments.


    Then Juliette stood up, ced a hand over her chest, and gave a respectful bow. "Count me in, Boss."


    Eleanor smiled in relief. "What do you want in return? A sry? Or one-time payment?"


    Juliette chuckled. "I retired from politics over fifty years ago. I entered that world to fight for women¡¯s rights... especially those of human women in the Kingdom. I never liked politics, but it was necessary to lead and protect them. At first, I got involved out of pity. But over time, I found purpose."


    She paused, her gaze steady. "After retirement, I promised myself I¡¯d never return to that battlefield. But hearing your vision today... I felt the same fire in my chest I felt back then. That¡¯s enough for me. I don¡¯t need money... I have more than enough."


    She leaned forward slightly. "However, I do have some conditions."


    "Name them," Eleanor said.


    "I need an independent office space where only selected individuals can interact with me. I want authority over the financial, public rtions, and IT teams... through a proxy of your choosing. I don¡¯t want to meet people or attend public functions. Select someone who can represent me, and I¡¯ll guide them from behind the scenes. You¡¯ll fund all operations. I¡¯ll onlye in when absolutely necessary. I want freedom... to enjoy this Chapter like a vacation from my writing."


    Eleanor nodded. "Agreed."


    They exchanged contact information and walked out of the study together. While Eleanor headed to her room to prepare for work, Juliette waited in the living room, sipping the tea the butler had provided.


    Once ready, Eleanor kissed Freya goodbye and left for work.


    Juliette¡¯s car followed closely behind, and they arrived at Heimdall Technologies together.


    As Eleanor stepped into her office on the top floor, she found Lily standing in the center of the room with an exaggerated scowl on her face.


    "Boss, this isn¡¯t fair," Lilyined. "I¡¯m not getting paid for the extra work I¡¯ve done since early this morning."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "Is it about the U.S. IT team?"


    "Yes! And it¡¯s a lot of work," Lily replied dramatically.


    Without missing a beat, Eleanor handed her a bank card. "Here. Take it."

 Chapter 44: Advisor Juliette Blanc

    <h4>Chapter 44: Advisor Juliette nc</h4>


    Lily O¡¯Sullivan was the kind of woman people noticed the moment she walked into a room. She stood at about 5¡¯6", her posture upright and graceful, radiating a quiet, self-assured confidence. Her skin was porcin-fair, with a natural rosy flush in her cheeks and a fine dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. But it was her eyes... sharp, emerald green and intensely observant. Framed by long, darkshes, they seemed to see through people.


    Her thick, wavy chestnut hair flowed just past her shoulders, catching auburn glints in the light. She rarely bothered to tie it back, preferring to let the wild locks frame her face freely, as if embracing the chaos of her work.


    Upon receiving the bank card, Lily¡¯s first thought was not about the workload or responsibility... no, it was about how much money was on the card, and more importantly, what kind of good food she could indulge in today. A rare smile crept across her normally stoic face, softening her features.


    Seeing her reaction, Eleanor leaned back in her chair and teased, "Don¡¯t be selfish. Take your team out for dinner too."


    Lily stammered, "H-How did you know I was thinking about food?"


    Eleanor chuckled. "Everyone in this office knows what you do when you receive extra money. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t be jealous if someone wins your loyalty with good food... so long as that someone is me."


    She gestured to the card. "There¡¯s 100,000 pounds on it. Use it for your team. It¡¯s unofficial funding, so no need to report it. We¡¯re just starting our business in the kingdom, and the next six months will be critical. Your department will be working overtime. Make sure your people eat well."


    She then turned toward the other woman in the room who had remained standing. "Please, have a seat, Juliette. Lily, call Teresa and Maya."


    Before Lily could respond, Teresa¡¯s voice rang from the doorway. "No need to call me. Maya went downstairs to handle some things... she¡¯ll be up in a minute."


    Teresa walked in and sat down gracefully. "Good morning, Boss."


    Lily ced a folder on the desk and took her seat beside Teresa. "This is the preliminary report we prepared. More wille inter."


    Eleanor flipped through the pages. As expected, they were from Mayor Grant¡¯s office... details on finances, internal transactions, and financial misconduct that could prove useful. Her gaze shifted toward Lily, who subtly nced at Juliette.


    Understanding the unspoken concern, Eleanor said, "Lily, Teresa... this is Juliette nc, my new advisor. You can trust her with everything. She knows the kingdom¡¯s political and administrative systems like the back of her hand."


    Teresa and Lily stood and greeted Juliette respectfully. Eleanor continued, "Juliette, this is Teresa, my secretary and childhood friend. She represents me in most matters. Lily is my assistant and leads our finance and nning department. You¡¯ll be working closely with both of them. You can address them by their first names."


    Juliette smiled warmly. "It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you both. Let me guess... Teresa, you¡¯re Chinese American, and Lily, you¡¯re Irish?"


    Teresaughed. "Close. I have American PR, but my parents are British citizens. I was born here, just studied in the U.S. for a while, hence the ent."


    Lily added, "I¡¯m Irish, born and raised."


    At that moment, Maya walked in, slightly breathless. "Boss, when did you announce a walk-in recruitment notice? At least twenty people are waiting downstairs!"


    Eleanor smiled. "Maya,e sit. I was waiting for you."


    After Maya took her seat, Eleanor continued, "Juliette, this is Maya... another of my assistants. She handles PR and administration. You¡¯ll also work with her."


    Introductionsplete, Eleanor turned to Teresa. "Get Juliette a room on this floor. She¡¯ll work exclusively with you three. Provide her with a direct-lift pass, high-security equipment, and whatever else she needs. Her work is confidential and will not be tied topany operations. All expenses will be covered separately."


    "Understood," Teresa replied. "I¡¯ll handle everything."


    Eleanor turned back to Juliette. "I¡¯m nning for a by-election in Stockport. Mayor Grant is my preferred candidate. She¡¯s not entirely on our side yet... but after seeing the evidence we¡¯ve collected, I suspect she will be. I¡¯ll send all rted documents to your office."


    She looked at Lily. "Forward everything to Juliette. From now on, she¡¯ll oversee this operation. I want the final n toe from her office."


    Lily nodded. "Understood."


    "Teresa," Eleanor said, "what¡¯s the current situation with our Birmingham party?"


    Teresa said, "Brian Morgan hasn¡¯t left his hotel room. His office reported he¡¯s working on the park development project. Louis Turner visited his homest night, but no unusual activity was reported. I think Mr. Morgan warned him."


    "Good," Eleanor said. "Start investigating the other politicians in that area. I want to rece the current leadership. Look for people with ties to the Langford estate... former staff members, supporters, family connections... anything."


    She turned to Juliette. "My mother¡¯s name was Esmeralda Langford. My grandfather, Edward Langford, was once the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal. I want to restore that family¡¯s influence. It will help achieve my long-term goals."


    Juliette nodded thoughtfully. "Do you want the current Earl to run for the House of Lords?"


    "No," Eleanor replied. "I don¡¯t want them directly involved in politics... just to regain power in Birmingham quietly."


    "Got it. Anyone else you¡¯re considering as a political asset?"


    "Not at the moment. If that changes, I¡¯ll inform you."


    Juliette rose to her feet. "If you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯d like to see my office and make any necessary adjustments."


    Eleanor nodded. "Teresa, take care of it. Lily, Maya... stay here."


    Juliette and Teresa left the room together.


    Turning to Lily, Eleanor asked, "What¡¯s the update on Nigeria?"


    Lily said, "I¡¯ve spoken with their Minister of Industry, Trade and Investment. They have a cab meeting today and promised to inform us afterward."


    "Good," Eleanor said. "Push them for a quick response. I want to move fast on the investment."


    She nced at Lily. "You can go now. Maya, bring all the applicants who are waiting downstairs to the meeting room. Collect their CVs and send them to me. I¡¯ll handle the interviews personally."


    "Yes, Madam," Maya said and left with Lily.


    Eleanor opened herptop and began sorting through pending files, approving some and adding instructions to others. About half an hourter, Maya returned with a thick stack of documents.


    "There are thirty-seven walk-in candidates. Here are their CVs."


    Eleanor pushed herptop aside and picked up the first one.


    "Cassandra nc, age thirty-two, LLM in International Law, University of Edinburgh." She read the summary and nced at Maya. "Call Cassandra nc. She¡¯ll be the first. Only one candidate at a time. You¡¯ll wait outside and ensure no interruptions."


    "Yes, Madam."


    A few momentster, Cassandra entered the room nervously.


    "Good morning, Madam," she said with a standard werewolf bow.


    "Good morning. Please, have a seat."


    Cassandra sat down, clearly overwhelmed by the Alpha presence radiating from Eleanor.


    "Why do you want to join mypany?"


    "I¡¯m currently working at aw firm in Liverpool," she said quietly. "I¡¯ve done well there, but... the owner has been pursuing me for some time. I either have to leave or give in to his advances. When I saw your job offer, I thought this might be the opportunity I need."


    Eleanor probed her with a soft mental pulse and confirmed the truth in her words.


    "Do you have shadow powers?"


    "Yes."


    "You¡¯re hired. Teresa will decide on your department."


    She reached for the next CV.


    "Rowan nc," she read aloud. "You may go now, and please send Rowan in."

 Chapter 45: Recruitment Drive

    <h4>Chapter 45: Recruitment Drive</h4>


    By the time Eleanor finished interviewing all 37 candidates from the nc n, it was already noon. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temple gently, feeling the weight of the long morning press against her shoulders.


    The candidates came from a wide range of professions... ountants, Lawyers, Public Rtions Officers, Data Engineers, Software Engineers, HR Officers, Project Managers, Content Writers, Receptionists, Cleaning and Maintenance Staff, Drivers, and Maids. Aplete workforce walked through her doors, ready to serve.


    Among them, sixteen women possessed shadow powers. Eleanor had expected as much. From her understanding, these women had originally trained with the Shadow Guard but hadn¡¯t been able toplete the grueling process. Instead, they had chosen alternative careers to support themselves.


    Without hesitation, she called Teresa to her office and handed her twenty-three CVs.


    "These candidates have experience in various fields," Eleanor said, her voice firm. "Recruit them into appropriate departments immediately."


    Then, she picked up the remaining CVs and held out one to Teresa. "This one here is a female driver. I¡¯ve decided to assign her to you. Take one of the Range Rovers for yourself and appoint her as your personal driver. She¡¯s trustworthy. In fact, all the applicants are reliable... they¡¯ve served the Raynor family for generations. They won¡¯t betray us."


    Teresa blinked. "I can drive my own car. Besides, a Range Rover is a bit too shy for my taste."


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze sharpened. "You don¡¯t get a say in this. I¡¯ll be traveling outside the Kingdom soon to establish our international businesses. Nigeria is already in progress. You¡¯ll need to stay here and act in my stead."


    She paused, then added, "My current driver is also a trained bodyguard. I intended the same for you, but after meeting this female driver, I changed my mind. She¡¯s single and willing to live with you for convenience and security."


    Teresa sighed. "Okay, okay. Whatever you say, Boss."


    Eleanor leaned back and crossed her arms. "I didn¡¯t mention this before, but there was an attack on me two days ago. As a result, I¡¯ve decided to purchase all the vis surrounding mine. I want to relocate my bodyguards and household staff into those homes."


    Her eyes flicked to Teresa. "You, Maya, and Lily should also move into nearby vis. There are four in total. Try to buy all the Vis as soon as possible. Offer a generous price so the current owners will be willing to relocate. Prioritize this. I want the area secured as soon as possible."


    Teresa¡¯s expression darkened. "Why didn¡¯t you tell me earlier? You do remember how many times you were attacked back in the U.S., right? Who¡¯s behind this one? The Chens? Or Sage?"


    Eleanor gave a dry, humorless smile. "The Whitmore family... or at least, my investigation points to them."


    She let that sink in for a moment before changing the subject.


    "By the way, I¡¯ll need to go to Russia soon to continue the investigation. The organization that sent the assassins uses a server located near Zelenograd. Look for a techpany there that produces the items we require. Schedule a meeting with them. I¡¯ll bring a few of my trained guards along, but I need you to stay here and oversee everything else."


    Teresa nodded. "Understood. I¡¯ll handle it."


    "Oh, and I almost forgot," Eleanor added. "I offered the nc family free recruitment. There might be more people from the family looking to work with us soon. Recruit them all. Assign guards, maids, and household staff to the vis. The others can join thepany."


    "I¡¯ll inform the front desk," Teresa said.


    "Perfect. I¡¯m heading out now. I want to spend some time with Freya."


    With that, Eleanor stood and walked out of her office, leaving Teresa to handle the new whirlwind of assignments.


    ***


    When she reached home, Eleanor found the house quiet.


    Freya was not there. She went out with Ethan.


    A flicker of worry crossed her face before she pulled out her phone and dialed Ethan¡¯s number. He picked up almost immediately.


    "Where are you?" she asked.


    "I¡¯m at Legnd. Freya was bored at home, so I brought her here to y."


    "Trafford Centre?"


    "Yeah."


    "Okay. Wait for me."


    She hung up the phone, got back into her car, and instructed her driver to take her to Legnd Discovery Centre.


    At Legnd, Ethan¡¯s voice rang out over the crowd. "Freya, Mommy ising!"


    Freya, who was carefully trying to build the London Bridge out of colorful Lego bricks, paused. Her little face scrunched with concern.


    "Will Mommy be angry?" she asked softly.


    "No," Ethan said with a chuckle. "We can all y together. She¡¯ll have fun with us. After you finish building your bridge, you should try the Merlin¡¯s Apprentice Ride."


    "Okay, Daddy," Freya said with a big smile.


    A few minutester, she sessfullypleted her Lego bridge and ran to the Merlin¡¯s Apprentice Ride... a pedal-powered flying ride where kids could control how high they soared. Freyaughed out loud as she pedaled hard, her tiny legs working with determination. When the ride ended, she was smiling from ear to ear.


    That was the scene Eleanor walked in on.


    She stood there silently for a moment, just watching her daughter. Freya was glowing with happiness. A twinge of guilt tugged at Eleanor¡¯s heart. She hadn¡¯t been able to spend much time with Freya recently, as she was too busy with her work.


    What hurt most was noticing how much Freya had bonded with Ethan over the past few days. The thought that Freya might one day prefer staying with him more than her... it stung.


    Still, she forced her expression into a wide smile and approached.


    "Sweetie, did you miss Mommy?"


    "Yes, Mommy! Let¡¯s y together!" Freya chirped.


    "But the rides are for children, not adults," Eleanor said gently.


    Ethan chimed in with a smirk, "There are several that parents can join with their kids."


    Eleanor gave in. "Alright, let¡¯s y then."


    They went to the Kingdom Quest Ride, where they boarded a chariot equipped withser sters. The goal was to shoot trolls and skeletons to rescue a captured princess. Freya was practically bouncing with excitement. For the first time, she was ying with both her Mommy and Daddy at once.


    When she scored higher than both of them, she couldn¡¯t stop giggling.


    Next, they entered the Lego 4D Cinema. After slipping on 3D sses, they watched The Lego Movie: A New Adventure, starring Emmet, Wyldstyle, and their quirky crew.


    Freya gasped in delight as bursts of wind blew across her face, light sprays of water tickled her arms, and snowkes fell from above, all perfectly timed with the action on screen. Herughter was infectious, and both Ethan and Eleanor found themselves genuinely enjoying the silly, animated movie.


    Afterward, the trio headed to Hawksmoor, where Ethan had already booked a private dining room. The quiet luxury of the space allowed them to rx and enjoy their meal in peace. They ordered roasted scallops, Freya¡¯s favorite lobster, rib-eye steak, roasted sweet potatoes, and drinks.


    After lunch, they headed home.


    Freya, worn out from all the excitement, fell asleep in the car, her head resting on Ethan¡¯s arm. When they arrived, he gently carried her inside and tucked her into bed. She stirred just long enough to see she was home before drifting off again.


    Eleanor returned to her own room and changed into fresh clothes. After taking a few moments to collect herself, she stepped out and found Ethan rxing in the lounge.


    She walked over and stood before him.


    "We need to talk."

 Chapter 46: She is My Daughter

    <h4>Chapter 46: She is My Daughter</h4>


    Ethan was surprised by the sharp tone in Eleanor¡¯s voice. Until now, he had never heard her speak so seriously. Instantly sensing the weight of the situation, he straightened up, set down the teacup he had been sipping from, and looked her in the eye.


    "Okay. I¡¯m listening," he said calmly.


    "What exactly have you been doing with Freya these past few days? I¡¯ve noticed you¡¯ve been spending a lot of time with her. Don¡¯t you have a business to run?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.


    "Yes, I do. But I can operate my business from anywhere. Over the past few years, I¡¯ve appointed capable people to the key positions. Even if I don¡¯t show up for a month, everything still runs smoothly," he replied confidently.


    "You¡¯re avoiding the question. Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice. What have you been teaching Freyately?" she asked, her voice rising slightly.


    "Nothing serious. We just y together. She enjoys it. That¡¯s all," he said with a shrug.


    "Then what¡¯s with the sudden restrictions on kisses and hugs from me? Do you think I¡¯d bring home germs and harm my own daughter?" she snapped.


    "That¡¯s... not exactly what I told her," he admitted, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.


    "Then what did you tell her?" she demanded.


    Ethan sighed, clearly ufortable. "I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re acting like this. If you have a problem with how I¡¯m interacting with her, just say it. I¡¯ll adjust."


    "Who gave you permission to take Freya out of the house without informing me?" she finally asked, revealing the real source of her frustration. Earlier that day, when she returned home and didn¡¯t see her daughter, she had panicked. Although Freya seemed happy and safe, the fact that Ethan had taken her outside without so much as a message deeply bothered her... especially seeing how close they were bing. It made Eleanor feel threatened, like her ce in Freya¡¯s heart was at risk.


    "Can¡¯t I take my daughter out to y?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even. "I made sure everything was secure. There was no danger."


    "She is my daughter. She doesn¡¯t leave the house without my permission," Eleanor said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.


    "She¡¯s my daughter too," he said, though his voicecked strength, sounded like a mosquito.


    "Don¡¯t y the ¡¯daughter card¡¯ with me now," Eleanor snapped. "Since you¡¯re so free these days... free enough to y every day... then you can take on some of my workload. I recently acquired elevenpanies, and they require a lot of attention. I¡¯m calling Teresa and having her assign some to you. With your experience, I¡¯m sure thesepanies will thrive under your care. Meanwhile, I¡¯ll focus on new acquisitions... and finally get some time to y with my daughter."


    Ethan suddenly realized he was losing this conversation. His every sense informed him of imminent danger! He stood up abruptly and said, "I just remembered... I have an urgent meeting at the office. Please excuse me."


    He made a beeline for the door like a man escaping a burning building.


    "Why are you running away? Don¡¯t you want to help me?" Eleanor asked with a smirk.


    Without turning back, Ethan said, "I know nothing about IT. If you need help in construction, call me."


    And with that, he disappeared, speeding away in his car like the house was haunted.


    Eleanor watched him flee and chuckled to herself. "This man! Always runs when I try to argue with him."


    Shaking her head, she walked upstairs toward her study to review some documents. As she was settling in, her phone buzzed. Fiona was calling.


    "Hello, Grandma," Eleanor greeted politely.


    "Eleanor, there will be an emergency n meeting today at 6 p.m. I¡¯ll be at Adrian¡¯s ce. If you have time,e and meet me."


    "Okay, Grandma. I¡¯ll be there."


    The call ended, and Eleanor frowned thoughtfully. "An emergency n meeting? I wonder what¡¯s going on now."


    ***


    By the time Eleanor arrived at the Raynor Estate, now Professor Adrian Raynor¡¯s house, it was already nearly evening. The residence was nestled deep in the forest... a secluded, peaceful property surrounded by towering trees and the scent of pine in the air.


    Freya, who hade along, was practically bouncing in her seat. When the car stopped, she peered out the window with excitement.


    "Is this where Grandpa lives?"


    "Yes," Eleanor replied.


    "Cool! It¡¯s like camping in the forest! Does he always live here, or is this just a vacation house?"


    "This is his home. Why don¡¯t you go call your Grandpa?" Eleanor smiled.


    Freya bolted out of the car and ran to the front door. "Grandpa! Grandma! I¡¯m here!" she shouted, knocking loudly. "Where are you? Open the door!"


    The door opened, and Selene stood there with a wide smile. She scooped Freya up into her arms. "Did you miss your Grandma?"


    "Yes! I missed you every day! But where¡¯s Grandpa?"


    "He¡¯s in the kitchen. He¡¯s making something delicious for you."


    "But he promised me snacks when I visit! Where are my snacks?" Freya said with a pout.


    At that moment, Eleanor stepped inside and said, "Freya, how many times have I told you? Too many snacks are bad for your health."


    "But Mommy... these are Grandpa¡¯s snacks," Freya said with wide, innocent eyes.


    Selene leaned close and whispered in Freya¡¯s ear, "Don¡¯t argue with your mommy. I¡¯ll sneak you some snackster."


    Freya whispered back, "Okay!"


    Selene turned to Eleanor with a gentle smile. "How are you doing, dear? It¡¯s been a while since you came to visit. Is everything alright?"


    "I¡¯m fine," Eleanor replied as she took a seat. "Just been really busy with thepany. Things are still settling down, but I think in a month or two I¡¯ll finally have time to breathe... and visit more often."


    Selene nodded and nced at Freya. "Ethan mentioned that Freya will be starting school soon?"


    "Yes," Eleanor replied. "After researching several schools, we decided on HMIS. It¡¯s under the Lowe n, which gives us a bit of peace of mind."


    "Good choice," Selene said. "The Lowe n is known for their discipline and fairness. And there will be other werewolf children in her ss... it¡¯ll help her adjust and feelfortable."


    "I thought so too," Eleanor agreed.


    Just then, Adrian entered the living room with arge bowl of roasted beef jerky and freshly made French fries.


    "Freya! Look what Grandpa made for you!" he sang.


    "Snacks!" Freya squealed and ran into his arms.


    "Did you miss Grandpa?"


    "Yes! This much!" she eximed, stretching her little arms as wide as they could go.


    Adrianughed and gently set her down on the couch, cing the bowl in front of her on the small table.


    Freya eagerly grabbed a fry. "It¡¯s delicious!"

 Chapter 47: The Leroux Family

    <h4>Chapter 47: The Leroux Family</h4>


    While Adrian, Selene, and Eleanor were discussing various topics... ranging from early childhood education to school systems and mental development. Freya sat quietly on the couch, happily munching on the snacks her grandfather had prepared.


    Just then, the door opened and Fiona entered, her presence asmanding as ever.


    "Eleanor, you¡¯ve already arrived. Good," she said, her tone calm and hint of relief.


    Eleanor immediately stood up and bowed respectfully. "Good afternoon, Grandma."


    Fiona smiled faintly and gestured for her to sit back down. "No need to stand on ceremony. Rx."


    Then, her gaze shifted to the little one sitting on the couch. "And what is my sweetheart eating? Look what I brought for you!" she said warmly as she approached Freya, holding a finely wrapped, ornate box in her hand.


    "Present! What is it?" Freya¡¯s eyes sparkled as she leapt off the sofa and stretched her arms toward the box.


    "Open it and see. It¡¯s a surprise," Fiona said, handing it over.


    Freya quickly unwrapped the box, only to blink in surprise. "An Xbox Wireless Controller?" Her excitement dimmed slightly. "But I already have one."


    "Take it in your hands like you¡¯re ying," Fiona said with a knowing smile.


    Curious, Freya did as instructed and immediately brightened up. "It¡¯s smaller! It feels better to hold... like it fits my fingers perfectly!"


    "It¡¯s thetest model. Just released yesterday," Fiona said. "I asked someone to make a smaller version especially for you, so you can yfortably."


    "I love it! I really, really love it!" Freya eximed.


    "Then where¡¯s my hug?" Fiona asked, feigning a pout, her voice yful.


    Freya rushed over and hugged her tightly.


    Fiona hugged her back, then whispered, "I want kisses too."


    "Okay! Here you go," Freya replied, nting two cheerful kisses on each of her great-grandmother¡¯s cheeks. "Happy now?"


    "Very happy," Fiona said with a chuckle.


    "Then I¡¯m going back to my snacks," Freya dered seriously, returning to her seat like she was a busy professional on a lunch break.


    Fiona turned to Eleanor and said softly, "Come with me. I need to speak with you before the meeting."


    Eleanor nodded and followed her upstairs. They entered Fiona¡¯s private study on the second floor... arge room lined with shelves full of ancient books and old scrolls, along with a sturdy oak desk near the window.


    "Sit," Fiona said, pointing to a chair across from her.


    As Eleanor sat, Fiona leaned back in her chair. "What do you know about the Leroux family?"


    Eleanor took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Not much firsthand. Most of what I knowes from old n records and business intelligence."


    "Tell me what you know," Fiona said, folding her hands over herp.


    Eleanor nodded and began. "The Leroux n is an ancient werewolf bloodline that originated in France. Their most distinct trait is the red fur on their heads, which trantes into red hair in their human form. Historically, they began with trades in textiles, fabrics, spices, medicinal herbs, gemstones, and precious metals... industries that thrived on French colonial expansion."


    She paused for a breath before continuing. "Over time, they evolved. Today, they own some of the world¡¯s most elite fashion houses, pharmaceuticalpanies, high-end spice brands, and gemstone boutiques. In recent years, they¡¯ve expanded into the aircraft, automobile, and IT sectors, sessfully carving out influence in modern industries."


    Fiona nodded. "And what do you know about the enmity between their n and ours? How did it begin?"


    Eleanor hesitated for a moment before answering. "It dates back to the colonization era. When the Raynor n supported the British Empire, the Leroux n sided with France. Both were business ns, eager to exploit colonial opportunities and secure resources. Tensions escted as their business interests shed."


    She continued with growing confidence. "The Raynor n¡¯s first major business expansion began in North America, where the British had seized vast territories in the Dawnd, Salmon Falls, Caniadari Quaront, Plymouth Colony, Roode Endt, and Quonoktacut to form what became known as New Ennd. In an effort to weaken British influence in the region, Franceunched attacks on English settlements, often aligning with Indigenous groups. Rather than engaging inrge-scale battles, they relied on guerri-style raids. This strategy inadvertently favored the Leroux n, who used their werewolf abilities tounch stealth attacks on scattered Raynor n members. These members had been spread across the region to establish businesses utilizing local mines and crops."


    She lowered her voice slightly. "They attacked our n members in ces like Schenectady and Salmon Falls. They thought they could eliminate us quietly during wartime chaos, but some members survived and returned to report the massacres."


    Fiona¡¯s face darkened, but she remained silent, allowing Eleanor to continue.


    "That incident enraged the n. In retaliation, the Raynor n funded a New Ennd militia andunched an expedition to capture Port Royal... the capital of Acadia and a key Leroux stronghold. This marked the Leroux n and France¡¯s first major colonial defeat at the hands of English colonial forces. Many members of the Leroux n perished in that assault. In response, the Leroux n formally dered war against the Raynor n."


    Eleanor paused for a deep breath. "The feud spread across the globe. Our ns fought in India, Senegal, Louisiana, Canada, the Caribbean, and even Indochina. Countless members were lost on both sides. Eventually, the King of Werewolves intervened to prevent further devastation. A treaty was signed, forbidding direct attacks between the ns. From then on, conflict was restricted to business warfare and covert actions."


    Fiona finally spoke, her voice grim. "That¡¯s a concise summary of our bitter history. And you¡¯re right... the attacks didn¡¯t truly stop. They just became more subtle. Over the centuries, several Raynor and nc n members were killed by them, but never directly... always through hired hands or staged ¡¯idents.¡¯ Today, surveince systems and global scrutiny make direct violence even harder."


    She stood and walked over to the window, looking out into the forest below.


    "In modern times, business became the new battlefield. While we dominated the U.S. market, the Leroux n expanded aggressively into China. They capitalized on our dyed investment in the IT sector and made a fortune from global markets. They poured that money into China¡¯s machinery industry and beganpeting with our Europeanpanies head-on."


    Eleanor frowned. "If the enmity was so serious, why didn¡¯t the ns resolve it through a Holy Duel? Wouldn¡¯t that have been cleaner?"


    Fiona gave her a weary smile. "It¡¯s not that simple. As one of the Ten Great ns, we¡¯re not permitted to initiate a Holy Duel with a lesser n. Only the lesser party may challenge upwards. Leroux could initiate one... but they never did. As long as a direct descendant of Elizabeth¡¯s bloodline... like my Grandma, you or me... remains alive, they won¡¯t risk it."


    She sat back down. "They know they can¡¯t win. That¡¯s why they¡¯ve resorted to assassinations over the centuries. And don¡¯t forget, we are the Ambassador n. Our resistance to silver and wolfsbane makes us special... unique even among werewolves. If they tried to challenge our status, the Council wouldn¡¯t support it easily."


    Eleanor looked thoughtful. "But then... why keep pushing this conflict if they know they can¡¯t win?"


    Fiona¡¯s gaze hardened. "Because of Council politics. As the Ambassador n, we manage rtions in both the human and supernatural worlds. We are the wealthiest of the Ten ns. Others rely on our financialworks. But some, like the Treasurer, Valemont n... resent our power. They¡¯ve been working quietly to weaken us, afraid the King depends too much on our wealth."


    She continued, "Then there¡¯s the Fenroth n, the Warlords of the Council. They¡¯ve always resented us. One of their ancestors was blessed by Fenrir himself. They control the King¡¯s military power. To them, our n¡¯s sess represents everything they detest."

 Chapter 48: The Fourteen Alphas

    <h4>Chapter 48: The Fourteen Alphas</h4>


    In the council meeting room of the Raynor Estate, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor sat gracefully on the central seat at the long, dark and exquisite table. Her presence wasmanding, her eyes cold yet calcting. On her right sat Eleanor, poised and attentive. Among the n council members, she was the youngest to participate in this meeting.


    The Raynor n had strict requirements for joining the council. To qualify, one must be an Alpha and must havepleted their education in the human world. As the Ambassador n of the Werewolves, human education is a must for all n members. Following that, they were required either to establish and run a sessful business for at least one year or contribute to human society through a reputable field for five years. Only then would the council consider them for membership.


    Council members held the power to influence and create rules that guided the entire n. While the n Head held emergency decision-making authority, any decree issued in such a situation had to be confirmed in a formal council session within thirty days.


    Eleanor hadpleted her education while she was a human, and after sessfully managing her ownpany in the United States for over a year, she had earned her ce at the table. Because she awakened the direct bloodline descendant of the Elizabeth line, Fiona had personally appointed her to sit beside her... marking her as the future heir.


    Next to Eleanor was seated Dr. Adrian Raynor, Professor at the University of Manchester. He was technically Eleanor¡¯s adopted father in the n.


    The rest of the seats were currently empty. The three of them sat in calm anticipation, the room silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the magnificent clock above the entrance. When the hour struck six, Fiona initiated a secure line to invite all members of the council.


    One by one, eleven glowing projections shimmered into being on the previously vacant chairs. All fourteen Alphas of the Raynor n were now present... eleven in person or through projection, three physically.


    To Adrian¡¯s right appeared the projection of Fiona¡¯s younger sister, Psychiatrist Dr. Evelyn Raynor, a highly regarded professor at the Institute of Psychiatry, Psychology & Neuroscience of King¡¯s College London.


    Next was Yara Raynor, Fiona¡¯s cousin who spearheaded the n¡¯s automobile empire from Japan, a brilliant strategist and engineer.


    Then came Ulysses Raynor, another cousin residing in South Africa, the head of the n¡¯s African mining operations.


    Next was Fiona¡¯s nephew, Quentin Raynor, the owner of one of the world¡¯srgest shipbuildingpanies based in South Korea.


    Last on that side was Fiona¡¯s youngest son, Architect Dr. Tristan Raynor, a Harvard professor and founder of Stone & Spire, a global architectural design firm that had reshaped the skylines of over thirty nations.


    To Fiona¡¯s left, the first to appear was Police Commissioner Xavier Raynor, the eldest son of herte brother and a respectedw enforcer known for his iron resolve.


    Seated next was Madeleine Raynor, Fiona¡¯s elegant sister who oversaw the n¡¯s sprawling casino empire from Las Vegas.


    Following her was Talia Raynor, Fiona¡¯s morous niece and a globally acimed Hollywood actress. Her influence extended into several high-grossing productionpanies.


    Then came Philip Raynor, Fiona¡¯s cousin from Germany, whosepany manufactured state-of-the-art industrial machinery and robotics.


    Beside him sat Chelsea Raynor, who controlled the majority shares in international money printing and mintingpanies that served the central banks almost all over the world.


    Last on the left was Isaac Raynor, a charismatic oil magnate based in Dubai. Hiswork extended throughout the Middle East and North Africa.


    When all thirteen pairs of eyes finally turned toward Fiona, silence reigned. Then, Fiona spoke.


    "Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for attending this emergency meeting on such short notice."


    Her voice was calm, but carried an unmistakable authority.


    "As you¡¯re already aware, the United States has begun imposing new trade restrictions on products from China and Russia. This is not a fleeting political move... it appears to be part of arger, long-term economic strategy. There are growing concerns that these restrictions will soon extend to allied nations of these two giants. In short, the global businessndscape is shifting."


    She paused and allowed the weight of her words to sink in before continuing.


    "As a family aligned with NATO and the Commonwealth, this shift could be both an opportunity and a threat. But we must act now to ensure that we remain on the winning side of this transformation."


    Fiona¡¯s gaze swept the table, lingering on each face.


    "My greatest concern at the moment is the Leroux n. You all know they have poured immense investments into Chinese enterprises. With these new sanctions, their profits from the U.S. market are rapidly shrinking. But they¡¯ve already begun adapting."


    She activated a holographic image above the table... a map of the West Minds County.


    "A few days ago, the Chen Group... China¡¯s main distributor of Leroux-manufactured goods in the Kingdom, applied to establish a local factory here at Coventry. Theirrgest investors? Chinesepanies connected to the Leroux n."


    Gasps and murmurs rippled across the room.


    "They n to shift production locally to avoid tariffs, using existing trade agreements to sell back into the U.S. and EU markets. Their costs will rise, but the potential profits from bypassing import restrictions will more than make up for it."


    Fiona changed the disy to highlight key African nations.


    "I¡¯ve also received reports that Leroux is preparing to relocate some of their manufacturing bases to Africa, especially in AGOA-eligible countries. These regions allow duty-free ess to U.S. markets. It¡¯s a cunning move, and if we don¡¯t counter it swiftly, we¡¯ll lose ground in several sectors... machinery, steel, automobiles, even firearms."


    She folded her hands.


    "We need a strategy. Now. Opinions?"


    Philip Raynor was the first to speak. "This move poses a serious threat to our machinery exports. Currently, Chinese products entering the U.S. and EU are heavily taxed. If they start exporting through Africa, that tax shield disappears. Our advantage will be gone."


    Fiona nodded. "Suggestions?"


    "I propose we begin groundwork for a new factory in West Africa. Many of those countries have both EU EPAs and AGOA status. We can manufacture simplified equipment locally to reduce shipping and production costs, and funnel advanced parts from our German base. But I¡¯ll need time for proper feasibility studies."


    "Understood," Fiona said. "Get started. Even a rough n is better than none."


    Quentin raised his hand next. "Actually, I¡¯ve already been working on something. I nned to open a naval shipyard in South Africa. I¡¯ve been coordinating with Uncle Ulysses for months."


    Ulysses nodded. "I¡¯ve securednd near Simon¡¯s Town Naval Base. The South African government is eager, but they¡¯re asking for preferential treatment... exclusive rights to buy the first line of warships and assurances that we won¡¯t sell to hostile nations. Negotiations were slow, but if time is critical, I can elerate the process."


    "Do that," Fiona instructed. "But be cautious. Leroux won¡¯t likely choose South Africa... it¡¯s too well-guarded. They¡¯ll look for other strategic ports. Kenya, Tanzania, or even West African nations."


    The room quieted as each member absorbed the information. Then, breaking the silence, Eleanor spoke.


    "Well... I¡¯ve actually been working to destroy the Chen Group for the past few days."


    All heads turned toward her.


    There was a moment of stunned silence, and then multiple voices ovepped in disbelief.


    "You did what?"

 Chapter 49: New Cold War

    <h4>Chapter 49: New Cold War</h4>


    Feeling all eyes on her, Eleanor calmly spoke, "Actually, I was nning to acquire the Chen Group¡¯s IT firm even before I returned to the Kingdom. Sinceing back, I¡¯ve sessfully acquired every targetedpany... except Chen¡¯s."


    She paused, folding her hands on the table before continuing.


    "I held off attacking them because of their financial strength. Their primary business involves importing broadcasting equipment for mediapanies, which gives them strong ties with major media outlets. If I attacked them directly like I did with others, they¡¯d retaliate through their media influence. So instead, I focused on weakening their financial stability by targeting the strongerpanies in their group."


    She looked at everyone around the table and continued, "I also discovered that they n to begin manufacturingwork equipment locally... equipment they previously imported from China. Anticipating that move, I acquired more than ten percent shares in an Indianpany that produces simr equipment. I n to import those products here as a substitute for Chen¡¯s local production."


    Eleanor paused, then added, "My team also contacted the Nigerian government to establish a factory there, producing the samework devices and other rted tech. Our target markets are the US, UK, and EU. I¡¯ve been building this strategy from the ground up... without even knowing that the Leroux n was backing the Chens. Now that I do, I¡¯ll need to adjust everything ordingly."


    Fiona leaned forward, her tone probing. "What was your end goal with the Chen Group?"


    Eleanor gave a small smile. "They¡¯ve developed a new Element Management System, an EMS, that manages the health, performance, configuration, and fault handling ofwork elements. Mypany needs that EMS toplete our AI integration project. Although, to outsiders, it looks like I¡¯ve been targeting them out of pure corporate greed. Only a handful of my core team members know the true reason behind our pursuit."


    Dr. Tristan Raynor frowned slightly. "Can¡¯t you get that kind of system from another provider?"


    Eleanor shook her head. "My team is currently negotiating with Huawei and HFCL. Both can provide functional alternatives, but Chen IT¡¯s EMS has a unique structure that will enhance my AI¡¯s performance exponentially. The problem is, Chen IT doesn¡¯t realize the value of their own tech. Since simr products from well-knownpanies flood the market, their version has been overlooked. My n was to destabilize their financial and media foothold, then offer them a buyout at a premium price before they even realize what they¡¯re giving away."


    She paused and looked across the table.


    "But now that the Leroux n is in the equation, I need to be more careful. They¡¯ll fight back harder than I expected."


    Fiona didn¡¯t look surprised. "What¡¯s your next move?"


    Eleanor took a breath andid it out. "Many U.S. tech giants rely on Chinese manufacturing for their hardware...ptops, smartphones, servers, routers, everything. With rising tariffs, production costs will go up, andpanies will be desperately looking to diversify. Vietnam, India, and Mexico will be their top choices for relocation. My team is already active in India, partnering with HFCL. But I n to go further now. I¡¯ll acquire smallpanies in India that produce hardwareponents and semiconductors and grow them rapidly to meet U.S. demands. If we execute this well, we can profit enormously from this trade war."


    She leaned back slightly. "Also, I¡¯m nning to invest more in our cybersecurity division. Political tensions always increase cyberattacks, especially state-sponsored ones. With the rise in threats, demand for defensive systems will rise. But so will operating costs. I should propose a new subscription model to make our services more scble and profitable."


    Fiona nodded, clearly impressed. "Good. Also, a lot of Chinese engineers in the U.S. who haven¡¯t secured green cards will face job insecurity in this cold war. Offer them positions in the Kingdom, India, and Nigeria. Give them generous packages. When this economic war heats up, they¡¯ll jump at the opportunity."


    "I¡¯ll act on it immediately," Eleanor replied.


    Fiona then turned her attention to Isaac Raynor. "Sanctions on Russian energy will cause Europe to scramble for alternatives... either renewables or imports from the Middle East. Isaac, prepare to capitalize on the sudden spike in demand from EU markets. The window will be short... maybe two or three months... before others ramp up production and prices normalize."


    Isaac simply nodded with a confident smile. "Understood."


    The meeting continued for another thirty minutes. Each member detailed their ns, strategies, and projections. The Raynor n was united in a single goal... to emerge from the looming trade war not just intact, but stronger and wealthier than ever.


    When the meeting concluded, Fiona and Adrian headed downstairs to y with little Freya in the garden. Eleanor remained in the council room, focused on coordinating immediate implementation with her executive team.


    After everyone left, Eleanor called Teresa and instructed her to implement all the decisions she had previously made in the meeting. Although Teresa groaned unhappily, Eleanor knew she would do the job perfectly in the end.


    Just as she was about to hang up, Teresa added, "One quick update. Among the four vis in your neighborhood, three owners have agreed to sell at fair prices. We can finalize paperwork by tomorrow. They¡¯ve requested a week to move out. But the fourth vi owner refuses. It belonged to histe father, and he says it¡¯s thest memory he has left of him."


    "Offer him a higher price," Eleanor said immediately.


    "I already did. I even offered him current central London market rates. He didn¡¯t budge."


    "Try once more," Eleanor said firmly. "Offer him more. If he still refuses, let him know that we now own all the other vis in the vicinity. We¡¯ll soon enclose the area and have guards patrolling 24/7. Kindly exin all the disruptions that might follow. If he still doesn¡¯t agree, call me. I¡¯ll handle it personally."


    "Alright," Teresa sighed.


    "One more thing," Eleanor continued. "Get ready to move into the vi beside mine. Have you asked Maya and Lily yet?"


    "Yes. Maya¡¯s fine with living there. Lily wants to stay with her family outside."


    "That¡¯s fine. If you want to bring in other team members, choose whomever you trust. I won¡¯t rmend anyone."


    She paused again. "Reserve two vis for the nc family. Call Juliette nc and let her pick a room first. I haven¡¯t decided what to do with the remaining one. Leave it empty for now."


    After the call ended, Eleanor finally left the meeting room and descended the stairs. She discovered that Fiona had taken Freya outside to y in the woods. With nothing urgent to tend to, she joined Adrian and Selene for a casual conversation in the drawing room.


    Their talk shifted from family matters to political forecasts and financial strategies, when suddenly Eleanor¡¯s phone vibrated. It was a call from the U.S. satellite division.


    She answered immediately.


    "Madam," the voice on the other end said excitedly. "The first batch of our satellite fleet is ready forunch. We can proceed within thirty minutes of your order. Would you like to attend in person?"


    Eleanor smiled. "Congrattions. No need to wait for me. This is your sess. Launch as soon as you¡¯re ready. Have you double-checked all critical systems?"


    "Yes. We¡¯ve confirmed everything. Laser interlinks for intra-satellite data transmission, AI-powered dynamic signal direction, self-healing nanomaterials, ion thrusters for maneuvering, and sr AI-petals for maximum charging. Everything is in working order. If theunch goes smoothly, it¡¯ll be a major sess."


    "Excellent," Eleanor said, a breath of relief escaping her lips. "Contact the FCC and FAA to receiveunch clearance. Set up a video feed. I¡¯ll watch theunch from here."


    After ending the call, she turned to Adrian and Selene, who were now looking at her expectantly.


    She smiled softly and said, "Uncle, Aunt... our first satellite willunch in half an hour. Let¡¯s go to the movie room and watch it together."

 Chapter 50: The Real Power

    <h4>Chapter 50: The Real Power</h4>


    In the quiet woods, a small, adorable wolf pup wasughing and darting after fireflies near the riverbank. Her joyful giggles echoed through the serene forest, making the trees feel livelier than ever. Arger wolf followed closely behind, her eyes scanning the surroundings with calcted precision. Though the area was protected byw and belonged to their family, and humans rarely ventured this deep into the woods, adventure-seekers sometimes lost their way... or found more than they bargained for.


    There was also the unspoken threat of other werewolves... those who knew exactly who lived here and might not alwayse with good intentions. Though guards had been stationed to watch over the forest, therge wolf couldn¡¯t help her instincts. She would protect this little pup with all her might.


    "Great Grandma, this is the first time in years I¡¯ve been able to transform into my original form. I¡¯m so happy!" Freya eximed, her tail wagging enthusiastically.


    "Don¡¯t you transform when you¡¯re alone?" Fiona asked in surprise.


    Freya shook her head, "No. Mommy said we should never shift into wolf form while living among humans."


    Fiona nodded, a tinge of pride and sadness in her expression. "She¡¯s right to be cautious. Humans fear what they don¡¯t understand. If they knew what you truly are, they might stay away from you... or worse, try to hurt you and your mommy."


    Freya tilted her little head in confusion. "But why? Is it wrong to be a werewolf?"


    Fiona smiled gently. "No, sweetheart. It¡¯s not wrong. Being a werewolf, or a vampire, or even a human... none of that is wrong. They¡¯re just different kinds of intelligent beings. The real problem is the ¡¯fear of the unknown.¡¯ That fear is the strongest force behind most of the terrible things people do. When someone doesn¡¯t understand something, they be afraid... and when people are afraid, they sometimes try to destroy what scares them."


    Freya looked thoughtful. "So... if I don¡¯t know something, I should be scared of it too?"


    Fiona chuckled, stepping closer to nuzzle her. "No, little one. You¡¯re a Raynor. Raynors don¡¯t fear the unknown. We study it. We observe, analyze, and learn until it¡¯s no longer unknown. That¡¯s the Raynor way. You should be cautious, yes... but fear should never stop you. Understanding removes fear."


    "But how do I understand something I know nothing about?" Freya asked, her curious eyes shining under the moonlight.


    "In your case, you ask your mommy or me," Fiona said, patting her head with her paw. "You read books, you ask questions, and you keep exploring. The more you learn, the less mystery remains in your world. Remember this always: knowledge is the real power."


    Freya blinked. "But Daddy said real power is in my fists."


    Fionaughed heartily. "Oh? So Daddy¡¯s been training you to fight?"


    Freya transformed into her human form and beamed proudly. "Yes! Daddy¡¯s been teaching me all kinds of cool moves. I saw some of them in video games too. Wanna see?"


    "Of course!" Fiona pped excitedly as Freya began demonstrating a series of yful punches and kicks.


    "You¡¯re getting strong," Fiona said warmly after watching her. "Your daddy is right, too. There are different kinds of power. Physical strength is important... especially for werewolves. Your daddy wants you to be strong enough to protect yourself and your mommy. In our world, being strong can be the difference between life and death."


    Freya frowned. "But... now I¡¯m confused. First you said knowledge is the real power, then fists are power. Which is it?"


    Fiona crouched and looked her in the eyes. "Sweetheart, both are true. But let me exin in another way. Think about your mommy... what does she do?"


    "She runs ITpanies," Freya replied immediately.


    "Yes. She¡¯s brilliant. She created an AI friend just for you. Could your father have done that with all his strength? No. But your mommy can make millions of AI friends for lonely people around the world. That¡¯s power too... a different kind of power. A power that changes the world."


    She paused, then continued gently, "And have you noticed? As your mommy learned more, your AI friend got better. Smarter. More helpful. That¡¯s the power of knowledge... it grows, it builds, and itsts longer than any punch. Now, think differently. If you have knowledge about your opponent, it will be easy for you to fight that opponent."


    Freya slowly nodded. "I see... so if I know more about someone, like a vampire¡¯s powers or weaknesses, I¡¯ll be better at fighting them?"


    "Exactly!" Fiona grinned. "With knowledge, you don¡¯t just react... you predict, you n, and you survive."


    Freya¡¯s expression grew serious. "I understand now. Knowledge helps me fight better."


    "Good girl," Fiona said proudly. "Now, tell me... what did you do during a full moon?"


    Freya giggled. "When Mommy took me out of the ancestralnd and brought me to the US, we traveled during the full moons. We went to Truchas, Lost River Valley, Methow Valley, Cumbend Ind, Lake Crescent, Chimney Rock, the Great Basin, Crested Butte... So many beautiful ces."


    Fiona raised an eyebrow. "So you didn¡¯t have trouble with the full moon?"


    "Not anymore," Freya said proudly. "Now that I¡¯m stronger, I can stay in my human form during a full moon. It tickles a little, but I can handle it."


    Fiona¡¯s eyes widened. "That¡¯s... very impressive. It¡¯s rare for a child your age to resist the pull of the moon. Our Freya truly is the strongest."


    Freya beamed at thepliment.


    Then Fiona remembered something. "You¡¯re starting school soon, right?"


    Freya sighed dramatically. "Yes. Daddy and Mommy are making me go. I already know how to read, write, code, and y games. Why do I have to sit in a ssroom full of babies who don¡¯t know anything?"


    Fiona chuckled. "Even if you¡¯re ahead, school isn¡¯t just about learning. You¡¯ll make friends, meet other werewolf children, and experience new things. I went to school, so did your parents. Trust me... it can be fun."


    "But what if they find out I¡¯m not like them?" Freya asked in a small voice. "Humans might run away. And I don¡¯t even know if other werewolves will like me."


    Fiona smiled kindly. "You¡¯ve met your Aunt Teresa, right? She¡¯s human. Is she kind to you?"


    "Yes."


    "She met your mommy when they were your age. They became best friends. And even now, they work together like sisters. That¡¯s the kind of bond school can create."


    Freya¡¯s lips twitched. "But Aunt Teresa doesn¡¯t know Mommy is a werewolf."


    "That¡¯s why you have to be cautious," Fiona said gently. "Not scared... just careful. You don¡¯t want to scare away the people who could be your lifelong friends."


    Freya groaned, "It sounds exhausting. I¡¯d rather just stay home and learn what I like."


    Fionaughed and ruffled her hair. "Alright. Just give it a try. If you really don¡¯t like it after a few days, I¡¯ll talk to your mommy for you. Deal?"


    "Deal," Freya said, a bit more cheerfully.


    To change the mood, Fiona pointed toward the glowing fireflies. "You still haven¡¯t caught one. Let¡¯s try again!"


    Freya¡¯s eyes lit up. She shifted back into her little wolf form. "I¡¯ll catch one today!" she dered, racing after the flickering lights with renewed determination.


    Fiona watched her run with a fond smile... grateful for moments like these.


    Just then, her phone rang. She answered it quietly, listening carefully.


    "Understood," she said after a pause, her voice calm.


    As she ended the call, she looked back at Freya, who was still chasing fireflies with innocentughter.

 Chapter 51: First Satellite Launch

    <h4>Chapter 51: First Satellite Launch</h4>


    Fiona, Adrian, Selene, Eleanor, and Freya sat in hushed anticipation in the cozy movie room of the Raynor Estate. The lights were dimmed, casting a soft golden hue across the room. All eyes turned to the massive projector screen stretching across the front wall. With a gentle flicker, the screen came to life.


    It was split into two segments.


    On the left was a live feed from themand center... a room buzzing with tension and brilliance. Scientists and engineers, dressed inb coats and headsets, gathered around glowing monitors. Their faces were tight with concentration, their fingers flying over keyboards.


    On the right, theunchpad glowed under the cover of night. There stood the rocket... tall, imposing, and proud. A metallic tower of ambition. The satellite, settled deep within the payload fairing, was hidden from view... but its presence was undeniable.


    Freya broke the silence with wide, curious eyes. "Mommy, what are they all doing there?"


    Eleanor smiled, brushing a hand through her daughter¡¯s hair. "Can you see the rocket on the right side of the screen? They¡¯re about tounch that rocket."


    Freya¡¯s eyes lit up with wonder. "Is it your rocket?"


    Eleanor chuckled. "Not just mine. I worked really hard to make this happen, but your Great Grandma provided all the funding. So, let¡¯s say... it¡¯s ours."


    Freya gasped. "Is it super expensive?"


    "Super costly," Eleanor confirmed with a nod.


    "Then is my Great Grandma... super rich?"


    "Yes," Eleanorughed. "Super-duper rich."


    Fiona, who had quietly been sipping tea and minding her business, groaned as the conversation turned to her. "Why are you two bickering about money right now? Watch theunch... it¡¯s starting soon!"


    Freya leaned toward her with a yful grin. "Great Grandma, you¡¯re rich. I want more presents."


    Fiona huffed in fake annoyance. "Okay, okay. We¡¯ll talk presentster."


    Suddenly, a crisp voice crackled through the surround speakers, pulling everyone¡¯s attention back to the screen:


    "T-minus ten minutes and counting. All systems are go."


    Eleanor leaned forward in her seat, gripping the edge of her chair without even realizing it. Around her, the others shifted slightly... alert now. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Freya too went quiet, her little hands tucked into herp.


    On the right screen, the camera panned slowly along the base of the rocket. Wisps of vapor curled from its sides, white and spectral against the cold lighting of theunch tower. The rocket was still, unmoving, yet thrumming with potential.


    Inside themand center, engineers adjusted their headsets. Numbers streamed across their screens, data shing like constetions in motion. Every second mattered.


    The mission director¡¯s voice came next... calm and authoritative, like a man bncing fire on his palm.


    "Payload secured. Communications link green. Final telemetry checks underway."


    Another voice followed, equally professional.


    "Weather is nominal. Wind shear levels within eptable range."


    A second video feed flickered on, showing a birds-eye view from above. From this distance, the rocket looked even more enormous... dwarfing the steel framework like a sleeping titan.


    Eleanor sucked in a sharp breath. Her chest felt tight, and her palms were mmy.


    "Five minutes," another voice sounded.


    The room fell into absolute silence.


    No one spoke. No one moved. It was as though time itself paused for this moment of suspended possibility.


    "Final countdown initiated. All personnel, switch tounch protocol."


    The right screen panned back for a full view of theunchpad. Steam began to pour out from beneath the rocket, clouds swelling at its base. Lights along the pad changed... from red to orange. Orange to blinding white.


    Inside themand center, a red indicator blinked on the master console.


    "T-minus sixty seconds."


    Eleanor¡¯s pulse thudded in her ears. She could feel it... pounding like war drums. Everyone else sat frozen in the same trance.


    "Guidance is internal. Auto-sequence start."


    "Fuel pressure stable. LOX levels green."


    "Twenty seconds."


    The camera zoomed out. The rocket stood alone now. The arms of theunch tower retracted with the grace of a parent letting go of their child.


    "Ten... nine... eight..."


    "Seven... six..."


    The engines red red... then zed white-hot.


    "Five... four... three..."


    A deep rumble began, even before ignition. A low, thunderous sound that seemed to rise from the earth itself.


    "Two... one..."


    A blinding light erupted from the engines, illuminating the sky like a second sun.


    "Zero."


    The rocket lifted off the ground.


    It rose slowly at first, then surged upward with raw power. mes and smoke risen beneath it as it pierced through the night sky. Even though they were thousands of miles away, watching it on a screen, the room seemed to tremble with the force of it.


    The satellite... silent and still just moments ago... now soared through fire and air.


    Inside themand center, chaos turned into symphony.


    Eyes darted across screens. Fingers typed furiously. Voices rang out...


    "Altitude nominal. Thrust stable."


    "Max Q in five seconds."


    "Trajectory locked. Stage separation go for green."


    The rocket continued to ascend. The camera shook slightly as shockwaves rippled through the air. Eleanor watched with unblinking eyes as it piercedyer afteryer of the atmosphere.


    Then, a flicker. A sh. A burst of light.


    The first stage detached in a wless semicircle, falling back to Earth as the second stage ignited.


    Apuse broke out in themand center. It started soft... cautious. But then cheers erupted. Not wild or chaotic... just honest and relieved joy.


    "Second stage burn holding. Satellite systems are green. We are in the ascent phase two."


    Eleanor felt something wet trickle down her cheek. She wiped it quickly, hoping no one noticed.


    "Mission control confirms: satellite trajectory is optimal. We have a sessfulunch."


    The rocket was now a flickering me in the distance, shrinking against the vast expanse of the sky.


    The camera feed followed for a few more seconds, then slowly faded to ck.


    In the Raynor Estate movie room, silence reigned.


    Then, Fiona¡¯s voice broke the stillness.


    "Congrattions, Eleanor. The first satellite of the Raynor n has beenunched... because of you."


    Eleanor turned, blinking away another tear. "Thank you, Grandma. But it wouldn¡¯t have been possible without your support. I may have designed the satellite and led the mission, but without your influence and funding, I couldn¡¯t have secured the licenses or built the infrastructure."


    Fiona waved a hand dismissively. "Don¡¯t be modest. I¡¯ve lived over four hundred years. I¡¯ve seen countless Raynors rise to greatness. The first satelliteunched by humans? That was so long ago, most have forgotten it. But this? This is the first satellite for our n. For any of the werewolves. No other n has achieved this. You¡¯ve made history tonight."


    Adrian pped his hands, smiling proudly. "We should celebrate this. It¡¯s a momentous asion."


    Fiona nodded firmly. "Yes. Adrian, call all the n members nearby. Ask them toe to our Sky View restaurant within the hour. They have a helipad... those who want to fly in can use it. Post the invitation in our n chat. Don¡¯t mention the reason. Let it be a surprise."


    Eleanor stood abruptly, her voice firm. "No, Grandma. Please don¡¯t. I appreciate the thought, but this isn¡¯t the time to celebrate. For you, this may be andmark achievement. But for me, it¡¯s just the beginning."


    Fiona looked at her curiously. "The beginning?"

 Chapter 52: Hope Specialized Hospital

    <h4>Chapter 52: Hope Specialized Hospital</h4>


    Seeing the questioning and confused expressions of the Raynor elders, Eleanor calmly exined, "I still have tounch 120 satellites in theing months. This was only the first. And I haven¡¯t even finished building the full infrastructure to control them. My AI system is still iplete. There¡¯s so much more to do. If you want to throw a party, please wait a few months. Once the entire satellitework is live, we¡¯ll be able to provide inte ess around the globe and seamlessly connect countries under a singlework. That¡¯s when we can celebrate and let the world see what the Raynor n has achieved."


    Fiona nodded thoughtfully. "Oh! So you mean after the entire project isplete. That¡¯s fine with me. But you mentioned something earlier about providing security services to NATO nations. You never told me about this n to provide global inte."


    Eleanor smiled slightly. "That¡¯s because the inte coverage is part of the first implementation phase. Initially, we¡¯llunch 120 satellites to cover the globe, allowing anyone, no matter where they are... on the ocean, deep in the forest, or in remote viges, to ess ourwork. Most corporations focus on providing services based on country-specific licensing, which limits them. We¡¯re aiming bigger. It might sound mad or even reckless from a business standpoint, but we have arger goal. Imagine the power NATO could hold if theirmand centers could be connected to any country¡¯s surveincework... with that country¡¯s permission, of course.


    "I¡¯m not selling this technology to individual governments. I¡¯m aiming directly at NATO. I¡¯ve already selected a location in Norfolk, Virginia, close to NATO¡¯s Allied Command Transformation base. If all goes ording to n, I can establish our NATOmand center there within a month."


    Fiona raised an eyebrow. "And the global inte service is your bargaining chip?"


    Eleanor nodded. "Exactly. On the surface, we¡¯ll present ourselves as an inte service provider. That¡¯s the public image. But behind the scenes, we¡¯ll gradually integrate security systems, satellite surveince, encryptedmunications, and other ethe services. Once we¡¯re in ce, if a country permits it, we¡¯ll link their surveince data to NATO¡¯s centralmand. That level of real-time global awareness will be unmatched."


    Fiona tilted her head. "You said 120 satellites. But I recall granting you permission tounch 150. That approval wasn¡¯t easy to get, especially across 72 NATO-supported countries and various international zones."


    Eleanor nodded. "I only need 120 to establish full coverage of the Earth. The remaining 30 satellites are reserved for additional functionality... such as redundancy, upgrades, and experimental features. I haven¡¯t finalized their use yet."


    Fiona tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I assumed this would take longer. But youunched your first satellite two years after starting your spacepany. How do you n tounch the remaining 119 in just a few months?"


    Eleanor grinned. "Grandma, you don¡¯t know the full extent of my operations. In the name of research, I purchased materials from NASA, Roscosmos, ESA, JAXA, CNSA, and ISRO... everything from outdatedponents to surplus modules. Nobody suspected a thing. I used those parts to build over 100 satellites after careful recycling and repurposing.


    "Our teams also bought tons ofponents from formal suppliers and the ck market. All 120 satellites were constructed simultaneously in multiple underground facilities. And because we voluntarily granted inspection rights to NATO for our main production site, they never felt the need to visit. Not even once."


    Fiona blinked, thenughed, "That¡¯s... brilliant. Now I understand why you¡¯ve been so confident. Alright, we¡¯ll hold off on the celebration. But when yourwork is up and running, you better let me throw the biggest party in Raynor history."


    Eleanor smiled warmly. "Thank you, Grandma. I won¡¯t let you down."


    After wrapping up their discussion on the project and a few other current issues, Eleanor left the Raynor Estate with Freya.


    ***


    Eleanor¡¯s convoy came to a halt in front of Hope Specialized Hospital, a towering structure of ss and steel nestled in the heart of the city. The hospital gleamed under the moonlight, its pristine facade reflecting the sky. Inside, its immacte white halls exuded a calm and some sense of eternal peace.


    Eleanor entered the building with Freya by her side. They stepped into a silent elevator, the doors closing with a soft hiss. The scent of antiseptic was thick in the air, making Freya wrinkle her nose in difort.


    As they exited onto the general ward floor, the echo of Eleanor¡¯s heels rang out across the polished tiles. Freya clung to her mother¡¯s hand, her wide green eyes flitting nervously between the white walls and overhead lights. It was her first time in a hospital.


    They moved swiftly down the corridor toward Ward 12B, the room where Isabe Thomas had chosen to stay after declining a VIP suite offered by her butler. As they approached the door, they heard raised voices from the ward.


    "You¡¯re lucky we even let you in," snapped a nurse in a sour tone. "This is a general ward. You¡¯ll get what you pay for. If you want special treatment, go to a VIP cabin."


    "I¡¯m just asking for a vegetarian meal," Isabe Thomas replied weakly. "I wrote it on my admission form. If you just call the food service, they¡¯ll change it."


    The nurse¡¯s badge read ra Vane. She crossed her arms and red. "Who do you think you are? You¡¯re getting treatment from top doctors for a minimal fee, and instead of being grateful, you¡¯reining about soup?"


    Eleanor stepped into the room just in time to hear the end of the exchange. Her eyes quickly found Isabe, who looked pale and frail in the hospital bed. Despite her condition, she wore a determined expression.


    "I didn¡¯tin," Isabe tried again, "I only asked for a vegetarian meal..."


    Eleanor¡¯s voice was calm but firm as she addressed the nurse. "Patients have the right to request meals in ordance with their dietary restrictions. As a nurse, it¡¯s your duty tomunicate with the appropriate department and ensure those needs are met. Instead, you¡¯re insulting and intimidating your patient."


    A murmur of agreement came from other patients nearby.


    "This nurse is always like this," one woman whispered. "She scolded me yesterday for calling her."


    Another patient added, "She doesn¡¯t like being asked for help."


    ra turned to Eleanor, her face reddening with fury. "And you? Who do you think you are? Barging into a hospital ward like you own the ce!"


    "I came to see her," Eleanor said calmly. "She¡¯s my aunt."


    ra¡¯s tone became even sharper. "This is not visiting hour! Get out ande back tomorrow at visiting hours!"


    Freya tightened her grip on Eleanor¡¯s arm. It was the first time she had seen someone speak so rudely to her mother, and she didn¡¯t know how to react.


    Eleanor saw the confusion in her daughter¡¯s eyes and made a decision. It was time to teach her how to handle conflict without losingposure. She smiled inwardly and thought, "I should use this opportunity to show Freya how snobbish people can be."


    So, she kept her tone measured and professional.


    "Miss Vane," she said, "if word of your behavior reaches the public, the reputation of this hospital, which is known as the most reputable private hospital in the region... will be at risk."


    ra¡¯s mouth twisted as if to retort, but before she could speak, a calm voice rang out from the doorway.


    "This sister is absolutely right. We do have a reputation to uphold here."


    All heads turned. A tall, slender girl stood in the doorway, dressed in a doctor¡¯s white coat and wearing thick-framed sses. She looked young, but her presence was impressive.


    ra narrowed her eyes. "And who are you now?"


    The girl stepped forward. "My name is Dr. Annabelle Gresham. I¡¯m the night-duty doctor for this ward. I witnessed your conduct, Nurse Vane, and I will be reporting it to my superiors."


    ra¡¯s face flushed red with outrage. Without missing a beat, she pulled out her phone and dialed quickly.


    "Darling," she said sweetly, "save me. The night-duty doctor has ganged up with some ungrateful patients and is bullying me..."

 Chapter 53: A Boyfriend’s Rage

    <h4>Chapter 53: A Boyfriend¡¯s Rage</h4>


    While Dr. Annabelle Gresham and Nurse ra Vane were exchanging heated words, Eleanor discreetly pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to Teresa:


    "I¡¯m at Hope Specialized Hospital. Ward 12B. A nurse is causing trouble. Contact the hospital¡¯s owner and send someone with authority."


    She intentionally angled the phone so Freya could read the message over her shoulder. When she saw the little girl¡¯s curious eyes scanning the screen, a faint smile tugged at her lips.


    A reply came almost instantly.


    "Okay," Teresa wrote.


    A couple of minutes passed before another message buzzed in.


    "The hospital is under the Miller Group. I¡¯ve contacted Edward Miller... he¡¯ll send someone right away. Do you want me toe?"


    Eleanor responded with a single line:


    "No. It¡¯s a minor issue. Stay focused on your work."


    Sliding the phone back into her coat pocket, Eleanor¡¯s gaze shifted to ra Vane, who was now ring daggers at the young doctor. If looks could kill, Dr. Annabelle would have been incinerated on the spot.


    Suddenly, the door to the ward burst open with a loud bang. A tall, muscr man in a doctor¡¯s uniform stormed in, radiating aggression. He looked more like a professional wrestler than a medical professional.


    "Who¡¯s bullying my ra?" he barked, scanning the room.


    ra, who moments ago had been scowling at Annabelle, instantly shifted gears. Tears welled in her eyes as she ran to the neer and threw her arms around his chest, sobbing dramatically.


    "They were bullying me!" she wailed, pointing first at Annabelle, then at Eleanor. "That doctor said she would report me to the higher-ups! I didn¡¯t do anything. They ganged up on me and are falsely using me. Please save me."


    The man¡¯s eyes narrowed. He looked at Annabelle coldly. "I haven¡¯t seen you before. Are you a new recruit?"


    "Yes, Doctor. Today is my first day at this hospital," Annabelle replied, standing tall despite the tension.


    The man scoffed. "Your first day, and you¡¯re already picking fights with my girlfriend? You must be really bold. Do you even know who I am? I¡¯m Dr. Nn Piers, Consultant and the head of this entire floor. ra reports directly to me. You report to me."


    "I understand that you¡¯re my senior," Annabelle said calmly, though her voice trembled slightly. "But this is a case of serious professional misconduct. You¡¯re defending your girlfriend without knowing the facts. Every patient here saw what happened. I suggest you speak to them or review the surveince footage before making assumptions."


    Nnughed, his deep voice echoing off the sterile walls. "You really are new. There¡¯s no surveince inside patient wards... basic privacy protocol. And yet you still insist on reporting ra, even after I, your senior, am supporting her? Fine. Let me make this simple for you. Pack your things. Today is yourst day. You¡¯re fired."


    Annabelle¡¯s spine straightened. Her voice, though soft, rang with quiet determination. "You can¡¯t fire me on the spot without an investigation. I¡¯m within my rights to report misconduct. I¡¯ve sworn an oath to protect my patients, and I¡¯ll uphold it. Even if I can¡¯t work here, I can work somewhere else. My degree wasn¡¯t handed to me... I earned it."


    Nn¡¯s sneer deepened. "Still denying it, huh? Then why is ra crying? Do you think I¡¯m stupid? You¡¯ll regret going against me. Just remember... my uncle is Director Rnd, the Director of Operations. Go ahead. Try reporting me too. See what happens."


    He chuckled darkly, clearly reveling in his perceived power.


    Eleanor, who had been observing silently, noted the glint of triumph in ra¡¯s tearful eyes. She was enjoying this... enjoying the power her rtionship gave her.


    Stepping forward, Eleanor spoke firmly, "Don¡¯t worry, Dr. Gresham. I¡¯ll stand as a witness for you. Every patient in this ward has seen Nurse ra¡¯s behavior. It¡¯s high time someone held her ountable."


    Nn finally turned his attention to Eleanor and froze. His eyes widened at the sight of the stunning woman standing before him, her beautymanding immediate attention.


    His gaze traveled down her body, lingering far too long on her well-developed chest area. Eleanor could feel the weight of his lecherous stare. It was as if he was stripping her with his eyes, viting her with every second that passed. A chill of disgust crawled under her skin, and her hands clenched at her sides. If Freya weren¡¯t present, she might have broken his jaw on the spot.


    ra noticed the lust in Nn¡¯s gaze and quickly looked back at Eleanor. The jealousy ring in her eyes turned venomous. Unable to hold back, she snapped, "Who do you think you are? Visiting hours are over! Where¡¯s your mask? Your safety protocols? And you brought a child too! Who gave you permission toe in here? Get out before I call security!"


    Eleanor inhaled slowly, trying to keep herposure. But beside her, Freya¡¯s tiny fists were clenched. Her breathing quickened, and her cheeks were flushed with fury.


    "You¡¯re a bad auntie!" Freya shouted in her childlike voice, trembling with emotion. "You¡¯re a bully! You can¡¯t yell at my Mommy!"


    rmed, Eleanor crouched down and cupped Freya¡¯s face gently. She knew that if Freya¡¯s emotions spiraled out of control, she might transform... and in a public hospital, that would be disastrous.


    "Shush, sweetie," she whispered softly. "Everything will be alright. Just watch Mommy, okay? I¡¯ll take care of this. Be a good girl and don¡¯t let anyone¡¯s words upset you."


    Freya nodded, though her eyes still zed with anger.


    Nn, meanwhile, waspletely undeterred. He was still staring at Eleanor¡¯s breast, his mind racing.


    "She¡¯s a mother, but her body... she¡¯s more alluring than any woman I¡¯ve ever slept with. I need to find out who she is," he thought.


    Feigning professionalism, he finally spoke. "Miss, this is a matter between hospital staff. If you¡¯re here to visit someone, I suggest you keep it brief and return during proper visiting hours."


    His ploy worked. Isabe, who had been watching from her bed, stepped in to defuse the tension. "Eleanor, I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s gettingte... take Freya home."


    Freya, remembering the basket of fruit she had carried in, walked over to Isabe and offered it with both hands. "Grandma, we brought this for you."


    Isabe smiled gently, touched by the gesture.


    Meanwhile, Nn smirked to himself. "Eleanor. That¡¯s her name. Now that I know her patient, it¡¯ll be easy to track her down."


    At that moment, the door opened again, and a tall, middle-aged man in a charcoal suit entered the ward. His salt-and-pepper hair, authoritative demeanor, and sharp gaze immediately silenced the room.


    "What¡¯s going on here?" he asked in a powerful,manding tone.

 Chapter 54: You Are Fired

    <h4>Chapter 54: You Are Fired</h4>


    Before anyone could respond, Nn immediately stepped forward, putting on a professional smile. "Ah, Dr. rk. It¡¯s nothing serious. Just a minor disagreement between our new doctor and the duty nurse. You don¡¯t need to trouble yourself with something so trivial. I¡¯ll handle it."


    The man standing at the doorway was none other than Dr. David rk, Head of the Oncology Department and one of the clinical directors of Hope Specialized Hospital. Known for his calm demeanor and sharp judgment, Dr. rk had witnessed countless conflicts during his career. However, tonight¡¯s visit wasn¡¯t by chance. Just as he had been wrapping up his shift, Chairman Edward Miller personally called and asked him to immediately go to Ward 12B to assist someone named Eleanor Raynor, someone the chairman described as "very important."


    Though surprised, Dr. rk took the call seriously. Now, observing the group gathered in the ward, he immediately sensed the underlying tension. Still, he kept his tone level and professional.


    "I see. And who are the individuals involved in this... disagreement?"


    Dr. Annabelle Gresham stepped forward. "Director, I am the duty doctor here and one of the people involved."


    rk nodded. "Ah, yes. You¡¯re the recruit I interviewed a few days ago, correct? The gold medalist from your graduating batch?"


    "Yes, Director," Annabelle replied respectfully.


    "Very well. Tell me what happened."


    Annabelle exined clearly and concisely, "I started my shift a short while ago. As I entered the ward to check in with the duty nurse, I overheard her speaking rudely to patients. I reminded her of her professional responsibilities and told her I would report her behavior. In response, Nurse ra Vane called her boyfriend, Dr. Nn Piers, who arrived and immediately threatened to fire me without listening to any exnation. All the patients here witnessed what happened."


    At that moment, Eleanor stepped forward to support her.


    "I can confirm everything she said," she said confidently. "Dr. Gresham acted professionally. Nurse Vane was the one causing trouble."


    Dr. rk turned toward her. "And you are?"


    "Eleanor Raynor. I¡¯m here to visit a rtive who is admitted to this ward."


    rk¡¯s eyebrows twitched slightly. So, this is the woman Chairman Miller asked me to look after. Internally, he sighed in relief. Having located her, resolving the situation became straightforward.


    Before he could speak again, Nurse ra Vane, who was visibly shaken by the direction the conversation was going, rushed to defend herself. "They¡¯re twisting the facts! They ganged up on me! I was the one being bullied. Dr. Piers can confirm it!"


    She turned desperately toward Nn, who was silently fiddling with his phone, trying to call his influential uncle, Director Rnd, to intervene.


    Dr. rk looked back at ra, unimpressed. "Do you have anyone other than Dr. Piers who can support your version of the story?"


    ra went silent. She nced at the patients, but none of them met her gaze. She knew better than anyone how she¡¯d treated them before.


    "I... I don¡¯t," she muttered.


    rk folded his arms, his tone hardening. "Exactly. Dr. Piers is also involved and cannot be considered a neutral party. Dr. Gresham, on the other hand, is new. She just arrived today. Are you telling me she formed some secret alliance with patients she met minutes ago just to frame you?"


    ra shrank under his gaze.


    "No one else reported issues with the other nurses who¡¯ve worked this ward. Yet, the moment you are on shift, problems arise. That speaks volumes, Nurse Vane."


    He let the silence linger for a beat before continuing firmly. "We built this hospital to be the best in the region. We will not let a few unprofessional staff members damage our reputation. Pack your belongings and leave. An official investigation will beunched, and you¡¯ll be notified in due course."


    He picked up his phone and dialed quickly. "Please send a nurse from the emergency pool to Ward 12B immediately. The current nurse has been dismissed for misconduct. You¡¯ll receive the official report by tomorrow."


    Then, dialing another number, he spoke again. "I need all avable surveince footage near Ward 12B, especially the one just outside the door. Also, I need clean audio from inside the ward if avable. The time is one hour before now. Please send it directly to the Chairman¡¯s office. This is rted to a matter he¡¯s personally overseeing."


    ra, stunned, copsed onto the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. The triumphant look she once wore had vanished entirely. She looked like a child lost in the dark.


    Meanwhile, Nn had just finished his phone call with Director Rnd and walked back, trying to lookposed. But Dr. rk turned to him with the same steel in his gaze.


    "As for you, Dr. Piers," he said coldly, "you¡¯re also dismissed for professional misconduct. You¡¯re to leave the hospital premises immediately. A report will be filed tomorrow, and you will be contacted for the official inquiry."


    Nn¡¯s face turned pale. "W-Wait! Director rk, please hold on. Director Rnd is on his way. He¡¯ll be here shortly to resolve this. He¡¯s the Director of Operations... you can¡¯t fire me without consulting him!"


    rk didn¡¯t flinch. He picked up the phone again.


    "Director Rnd?"


    "Yes. I¡¯ve fired Dr. Nn Piers and Nurse ra Vane for unprofessional behavior."


    "There¡¯s no need for you toe. If you have any objections, feel free to contact Chairman Miller. He is fully informed and authorized me to act."


    "Yes, thank you. Take care."


    He ended the call and stared at the stunned couple.


    "Why are you still standing here? Do you need security to escort you out?"


    Nn opened his mouth but no words came out. He clenched his jaw and stormed out of the ward. ra, sobbing uncontrobly, stumbled after him.


    Once they were gone, Dr. rk turned to Annabelle with a gentler expression. "Dr. Gresham, I¡¯m proud of how you handled yourself. You stood up for what¡¯s right, even when threatened. You¡¯ve shown courage and integrity. I¡¯ll personally rmend a raise in my report tomorrow."


    Annabelle¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, her voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Director. But truly, you were the hero today. Without your support, I would have been thrown out unjustly."


    rk chuckled softly. "I was simply doing my duty."


    Turning to the patients, he addressed them with humility. "On behalf of the hospital, I sincerely apologize for your experience. We strive to maintain high standards. Please assist in tomorrow¡¯s investigation, so we can prevent incidents like this in the future."


    Finally, he walked up to Eleanor, his expression warm.


    "You were brave to speak up. Chairman Miller asked me to personally thank you. He¡¯s on the phone now. He¡¯d like to speak with you."


    He handed her the phone. Eleanor blinked in surprise, but took the call.


    "Hello?"


    "Miss Raynor," came Edward Miller¡¯s deep voice, "I want to sincerely apologize for what you experienced. No guest should suffer mistreatment in my hospital. I assure you, it will not happen again."


    "There¡¯s no need to worry," Eleanor replied calmly. "It was a minor issue. No one was hurt."

 Chapter 55: An Unexpected Encounter

    <h4>Chapter 55: An Unexpected Encounter</h4>


    After Eleanor ended her conversation with Edward Miller, Dr. rk left the ward without another word.


    Annabelle walked over to thank her. Although she was young, she wasn¡¯t stupid. She had clearly guessed that everything that happened earlier was because of Eleanor. Though Dr. rk never said it aloud, the way Eleanor had spoken with Chairman Miller made it obvious... she held more power than she let on. The fact that Dr. rk rushed over solely because of her only confirmed it.


    A few minutester, several hospital administrative staff members entered the ward with urgent instructions. They politely informed Isabe that she would be transferred to the VVIP cabin of the hospital at no charge.


    Isabe tried to protest, saying she wasfortable where she was, but the staff insisted that the relocation was part of the hospital¡¯s apology for her earlier mistreatment. She could tell Eleanor was behind this. But when she looked over and saw Eleanor silently urging her to stay quiet, she sighed and nodded in agreement.


    Soon, Isabe was moved to the hospital¡¯s most luxurious and fully-equipped cabin.


    Hearing the staff¡¯s conversation and witnessing Isabe¡¯s transfer, the other patients in the ward couldn¡¯t help but whisper among themselves.


    "Did you see that? They¡¯re taking her to the VVIP cabin!"


    "Must be someone important. The hospital staff¡¯s never moved so fast before."


    "Looks like management is finally doing something right."


    Unbeknownst to them, only Annabelle truly understood what had happened.


    "Looks like Miss Eleanor Raynor is even more powerful than I initially thought," she mused silently. "Good thing I ended up on her good side. I¡¯ll have to ask Dad about her when I get home."


    Inside the VVIP room, Isabe was visibly ufortable with her new surroundings. Thevish interior, the plush bed, and the personal nurse all felt excessive to her. She squirmed in her seat.


    "Eleanor, this is too much," Isabe said, ncing around awkwardly. "This ce is far too extravagant for me. I¡¯m not used to living like this. If you really want me in a cabin, a normal one will do just fine. I don¡¯t even know how to use half the things in here."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow, remaining calm. "Aunt Be, please rx. It was your mistake to insist on being admitted to the general ward in the first ce. Since I¡¯m the one paying for your treatment, you should prioritize getting well quickly, not worry about how much I¡¯m spending. You know very well how different the care quality is between the VIP cabin and the general ward."


    She paused before adding, "But I won¡¯t dwell on that anymore. Just remember this... never hesitate to spend money when I¡¯m involved. I have more than enough to take care of you."


    Her tone softened. "My mother left you in charge of raising me. Now that I¡¯ve grown up, it¡¯s my turn to take care of you. That¡¯s final."


    Isabe¡¯s eyes welled with emotion, but she blinked it away quickly.


    Eleanor leaned back on the couch. "Call your family before your treatment begins. The doctor said it¡¯ll start in five days. You should see your loved ones before then. It¡¯s going to be a tough and painful process at your age, but he said you¡¯ll recover fully."


    She nced at the door of the cabin, where a calendar was hanging. "The treatment will take around a month. Initially, I was told I could take you home after seven days, but I¡¯ve decided you¡¯ll stay here for the entire duration. Proper care is essential during radiotherapy. Once it¡¯s all done, you¡¯ll return homepletely healed."


    Isabe frowned. "That¡¯s not necessary. I cane to the hospital for each session."


    Eleanor looked at her sharply. "You don¡¯t have a say in this matter. I¡¯ve already made all the arrangements. You¡¯re staying here. Your only job now is to focus on getting better."


    They chatted a little longer as the hospital staff finished setting up the room and exined how to use everything to Isabe. Once everything was settled, Eleanor and Freya bid her farewell and quietly left the hospital.


    ***


    The next morning, while Eleanor was on her way to the office from her vi, the convoy stopped at a nearby gas station. The lead driver had noticed that the sensors installed on her car were slightly obscured by dust. Not wanting to take any chances, he contacted the rest of the team, and they all agreed to stop for a quick car wash.


    "Any sign of sabotage?" Eleanor asked without looking up from herptop.


    "No, Ma¡¯am," her driver replied. "There was a dusty stretch on the road... possibly from construction. A vehicle might have dropped something."


    Eleanor gave a short nod and focused back on herptop screen.


    As the convoy rolled into the gas station, Eleanor¡¯s security team sprang into action. They immediately secured the area, paid off all waiting vehicles to leave, and checked the station staff thoroughly. No risks were taken.


    While her car was being washed, Eleanor caught a glimpse of someone familiar in the corner of her eye. A young woman was cleaning the rear sensors of one of the Range Rovers.


    "Isn¡¯t that the salesgirl from Louis Vuitton?" Eleanor frowned and turned to look more closely. It was indeed the same girl.


    She rolled down her window and signaled to a nearby guard. "Bring her to me."


    The guard nodded and walked over, interrupting the girl mid-task. The girl, clearly confused and startled, followed him hesitantly.


    As soon as she approached the car and saw who was inside, her face paled.


    "Weren¡¯t you working as a salesgirl at Louis Vuitton?" Eleanor asked.


    The girl stammered. "I... I lost that job. Now... I work here."


    "Was that because of our encounter the other day?" Eleanor asked calmly.


    The girl¡¯s legs were trembling. She¡¯d already sensed something unusual when a line of ck-d guards arrived, cleared out the gas station, and began inspecting everything with military-like precision. Then came the fleet of nine luxury Range Rovers. The station manager was sweating bullets. The rest of the staff were equally stunned, barely able to stand still as they performed their duties.


    Now, standing in front of the woman who appeared to be the owner of it all, the girl could barely speak. Her debating trophies, her sales awards... none of it seemed to matter anymore.


    Eleanor waited patiently but got no response.


    "Did you lose your job because of me?" she repeated, more gently this time.


    The girl finally came to her senses and shook her head quickly. "No, no. It had nothing to do with you."


    "When did you start working here?" Eleanor asked.


    "Today is my third day," she replied softly, eyes still downcast.


    "What¡¯s your name?"


    "June Osborne."


    Eleanor nodded. "Okay. Go back to work."


    The girl looked as if she¡¯d just been pardoned from a life sentence. She turned and rushed back to her colleagues, visibly relieved.


    Eleanor leaned back. "Ophelia, check on that girl. I think I may have unknowingly caused her some trouble. Also, look into her background."


    "Yes, ma¡¯am," Ophelia nc replied. She stepped out of the car, walked straight to the station manager, and began her quiet investigation.

 Chapter 56: A Change of Plan

    <h4>Chapter 56: A Change of n</h4>


    The minor disruption caused by the car sensors didn¡¯t alter Eleanor¡¯s schedule for the day. As always, her life moved like a well-oiled machine... no room for hesitation or disorder. Upon arriving at the office, she stepped out of her vehicle with an air ofposed authority, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor of the towering building. She entered her room on the top executive floor to find her three assistants... Teresa, Maya, and Lily were already lined up, waiting inside her office.


    "Good morning," Eleanor greeted them with a rare but dazzling smile, a warmth reserved only for those few in her inner circle.


    Despite being overwhelmed with deadlines and tasks, the trio rxed slightly upon seeing her. That smile, though fleeting, was a reminder that beneath their cold-faced, perfection-demanding boss was someone who genuinely trusted them. They often joked among themselves that it was a secret privilege to witness the ¡¯human side¡¯ of Eleanor Raynor.


    "Not so good for me," Teresa replied with a sigh and an exaggerated slump of her shoulders. "There are several documents that need your urgent approval. And after that, you have a scheduled meeting at NexaByte Technologies. You¡¯re expected to attend a manager-level conference. Also..." she paused dramatically, "James Smith has sessfully acquired the remaining plots at Trafford Park. There were some private holdings, but we managed to buy them at a premium. We¡¯re now clear to expand the existing data center."


    As she spoke, she handed Eleanor a sleek blue folder. "Ava Martin has proposed building an entirely new data center there, in contrast you initially suggested. She believes the current infrastructure is too outdated to serve as a reliablemand hub for our uing security project."


    Eleanor nodded, flipping open the folder. Her sharp eyes skimmed the data with practiced efficiency. After a few moments, she picked up her phone and dialed Ava directly.


    "I¡¯ve received your report," she said, her tone cool yet decisive. "Proceed as proposed. Submit the financial requirements to the appropriate department. Lily will coordinate the funding with you."


    "Yes, I¡¯ll be attending the meeting."


    After ending the call, she turned to Lily. "Ava will need a sizable budget toplete this. Grant her the necessary resources but keep a tight watch on expenditure. I want a full audit trail of every transaction."


    "Understood, Boss," Lily replied. "I also have an update to share."


    "Wait your turn," Eleanor said with a small wave of her hand. "Let Teresa finish first."


    Teresa, unfazed by the interruption, continued. "We received an invitation from the Greater Manchester Information Technology Chamber of Commerce. They¡¯re hosting their annual dinner the day after tomorrow. Although Heimdall Technologies isn¡¯t a member of their association, they¡¯ve extended an offer for us to join."


    "Who was the letter addressed to?"


    "To Heimdall Technologies directly."


    Eleanor considered it for a moment before answering, "We won¡¯t join them for now. But you will attend the dinner as our representative. Make a call and confirm your participation."


    Teresa nodded, "Okay."


    "No, not just ¡¯okay.¡¯ Call them now, please."


    Obediently, Teresa took out her phone and dialed the number listed on the formal invitation. After exchanging a few pleasantries with the event coordinator, she confirmed her presence.


    Once the call ended, Eleanor nced at Maya. "Call Cassandra nc from the legal department. I want her in my office."


    Maya stood to exit the room, but before she could reach the door, Eleanor turned to Teresa again. "Call Edward Miller. I want a word with him."


    Teresa did as instructed and handed Eleanor the phone once the call connected.


    "Good morning, Mr. Miller. I hope I¡¯m not interrupting anything important."


    "Not at all," Edward responded warmly. "Always a pleasure to speak with you. What can I do for you today?"


    "Did you receive an invitation from GMITCC for the annual dinner?"


    "Yes, I¡¯ve been a long-time member. In fact, I currently sit on their board," he replied with mild surprise.


    "Perfect. I¡¯d like to attend as your plus one. You can introduce me as your business partner, which is also true," Eleanor said smoothly.


    "You don¡¯t have your own invitation? I can arrange one for you."


    "We received one. Teresa will attend officially on behalf of Heimdall. I want to remain out of the spotlight. Given the recent buzz around our operations, many eyes will be on us. Few know what I look like personally, so I¡¯ll be able to observe and assess others while staying outside the radar."


    "Ah, I see. That¡¯s a clever move," Edward said, clearly impressed. "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯lle and pick you up myself. Consider it done."


    "Thanks, Mr. Miller. I¡¯ll see you then."


    She ended the call and handed the phone back to Teresa, who took it with a raised brow. "You asked me to prepare a report on the acquisition of Indian factories producing hardware and chips. Maya¡¯s got the details on that."


    "Then I guess it¡¯s my turn now," Lily interjected with a small smirk. "The Nigerian government has responded positively. Their cab has preliminarily approved our proposal to establish a private Special Economic Zone consisting of 50 acres ofnd near Lekki Deep Sea Port, just as we requested. They¡¯re willing to provide priority support. But they require a signed bteral agreement for an initial investment of 100 million dors."


    Eleanor leaned back in her chair and thought for a moment. "Alright. We¡¯ll do it... But structure the investment in phases. First, 10 million to build core infrastructure and begin producing targeted products to counter the Chen Group market. Next, 20 million to expand production. Then, 30 million to construct supplementary factories and prate the African low-cost market. The final 40 million will be reserved for upscaling and long-term automation."


    She paused, her voice calm yet firm. "Adjust the figures if necessary, but convey this n to the Nigerian officials. Let them know we expect to start production within six months. If they support us properly, the entire 100 million will be invested within a year. Possibly more."


    "Got it," Lily said, taking notes quickly.


    "Teresa," Eleanor said, her tone shifting slightly, "Promote Aisha Bello. She¡¯ll be the project manager in Nigeria. Call her to the Kingdom today. Lily, start handing over the workload to her. She negotiated with Roscosmos like a pro. She¡¯s beautiful, capable, and Nigerian... our best option for managing operations on the ground."


    Teresa raised an eyebrow. "But Aisha is vital to our space project. Removing her now might slow it down."


    "Our space initiative is running at full speed. It can afford a little disorder. And her performance deserves recognition," Eleanor replied. "Also, she¡¯s single. It¡¯ll be easier for her to relocate."


    "She might not want to return to Nigeria," Teresa added. "Her parents might try to set her up with a local groom again."


    "That¡¯s precisely why I asked you to handle her. If anyone can convince or pressure her into going, it¡¯s you."


    Lily then handed over another folder. "This is the final report we made regarding Mayor Grant¡¯s office. The IT team traced every transaction linked to the education fund scandal. They also traced all the ounts from the MP¡¯s office. There is a separate documentpiled by Juliette nc, which I suggest you read first."


    Eleanor opened the file and scanned the contents, her expression shifting as she read further. Her calm demeanor gave way to a rare flicker of unease.


    Without a word, she grabbed her phone and dialed Juliette. "Is this all urate?" she asked sharply.


    "Yes, unfortunately," Juliette replied. "Taking down the MP of Stockport would unravel half the party¡¯s top leadership. We could promote Mayor Grant as a recement, but that won¡¯t get us the oue you want. I suggest another route... find central leaders who stand to benefit from the scandal and strike a deal with them. In exchange for covering up the scandal, we secure their cooperation. One of them could be our candidate for Prime Minister."


    Eleanor sat in silence for a long moment, digesting the full implications.


    "Alright," she finally said. "Proceed with your n. Keep in mind... my grandfather was once a party leader. His connections may still be active. Use them if needed."


    "I may require additional funds to grease the right wheels."


    "You know the drill," Eleanor said coolly. "Ask Teresa, Maya, or Lily for anything... money, assets, personnel. Whatever you need. I want results."


    "Understood. I¡¯ll keep you updated," Juliette replied and ended the call.


    Just then, Maya entered with Cassandra nc.


    "Good morning, Ma¡¯am," Cassandra greeted respectfully, bowing slightly.


    "Come in, Cassandra. Sit down," Eleanor said, gesturing to the chair across her desk.


    "Thank you, Ma¡¯am," she replied, sitting with a straight back and alert eyes.


    "I¡¯ve got an important assignment for you," Eleanor began. "You¡¯re being appointed as Teresa¡¯s assistant. Your first task is to investigate everything about GMITCC... its board members, internal politics, and key yers. I want aplete report on my desk tomorrow morning."


    Cassandra blinked in surprise, then nodded firmly. "Understood."


    "Good. Pack up your things and report to Teresa¡¯s office."


    As Cassandra exited the room, Teresa looked at Eleanor in disbelief. "You¡¯re giving me awyer as an assistant now?"


    "You¡¯ll need her. She is capable and trustworthy," Eleanor said with a smirk. "We¡¯re entering political territory now. It¡¯s going to get messy."

 Chapter 57: NexaByte Technologies

    <h4>Chapter 57: NexaByte Technologies</h4>


    Teresa couldn¡¯t take this sudden turn of events lightly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned forward, voice firm yet curious.


    "From the looks of it, you were prepared to assign her as my assistant from the very beginning. Why?"


    Eleanor sighed and leaned back, crossing her legs with a calm grace. "Yes, that¡¯s correct. There were several reasons. First, you genuinely needed some assistance. Even though you have the support of an entire conglomerate, your personal workload has been growing exponentially. I had nned to assign more assistants to you, but so far, she is the only one I found fitting."


    She paused, folding her hands neatly on herp. "Second, she¡¯s not just any employee. She¡¯s an experiencedwyer with basicbat training. Her family background checks out... clean and trustworthy. And most importantly, she¡¯s single. No personal distractions, no entanglements."


    Teresa nodded slowly, absorbing the exnation as Eleanor continued.


    "Third, I want you to focus on building the vision, not running every little detail. I¡¯ve noticed you¡¯ve been following up on every task yourself, and that¡¯s a waste of your strategic potential. Your productivity will increase drastically if you havepetent people running things and simply reporting back to you. Andstly... I will need more assistants in the future. What better way to train someone than under your direct supervision?"


    Teresa gave a thoughtful nod, her expression softening. "Okay. I understand now."


    "Don¡¯t forget to bring her to the vi with you," Eleanor added, then shifted topics. "Speaking of which, when can we sign the documents for the vis?"


    "Tomorrow morning," Teresa responded. "We¡¯ll need to go to the property management office. I¡¯ve already coordinated with the other vi owners. Everyone has agreed."


    "What about the one who initially refused to sell?" Eleanor asked with a raised eyebrow.


    Teresa smirked slightly. "He came around after speaking with the others. Peer pressure works wonders."


    "Excellent," Eleanor replied with a pleased nod. "Now we can move forward with enclosing the entire area without any issues."


    "I¡¯ve already spoken with the property management team," Teresa added. "Tomorrow, they¡¯ll show us theyout and proposals on how we can secure the vi area."


    "That¡¯s perfect. We¡¯ll finalize everything then."


    Eleanor then turned her attention to Maya. "Maya, do you have the report on Indianpanies?"


    "Yes," Maya said, straightening up slightly. "Teresa asked me to investigate Indian hardware and semiconductor production startups. I¡¯ve shortlisted sevenpanies, all located in Taramani, Chennai, close to the seaport. Thesepanies have initiated production but haven¡¯t yet reached export-level capabilities. Right now, they mostly take subcontracting work fromrger corporations. I¡¯vepiled the details here."


    She pushed a thick folder toward Eleanor, which she had prepared in advance and ced on the table earlier.


    Eleanor opened the folder and quietly reviewed the information inside. Her eyes scanned line after line of figures and notes until she finally closed the folder with a soft thud.


    "Thebined market value of these sevenpanies is only about 20 million dors," she said thoughtfully. "Take 50 million from the U.S.panies and invest ording to their current valuation. I want a controlling 70% stake in eachpany. Additionally, prepare another 5 million in cash as a goodwill offering for their shareholders. It¡¯ll make the acquisition smoother."


    "We won¡¯t change any administrative positions, names, or outward appearance. Theirpanies will continue operating as usual... at least until they meet our performance targets. These are young startups. They might be defensive, so approach them gently."


    Maya gasped. "Are we really going to acquire all seven of them?"


    Eleanor replied calmly, "Yes. Since we¡¯re entering the Indian market, why settle for anything less than domination?"


    Everyone in the room instantly grasped her intent.


    "Lily," Eleanor said, turning to the poised woman beside Maya. "Help her with the negotiations. I want this to happen quickly and cleanly."


    "Okay, Boss," Lily and Maya said in unison.


    Then Eleanor addressed Teresa again. "I want to quietly recruit Chinese engineers from the U.S. No official job posts... just spread a rumor through Silicon Valley that you, being of Chinese descent, prefer hiring your own people and provide them with exclusive benefits. The goal is to lure them."


    She paused before adding, "If they¡¯re willing to relocate to the Kingdom, we¡¯ll offer full amodations, transportation, and a host of other attractive perks. Prepare a detailed list of these benefits... something substantial enough to tip the scale in our favor. Also, let the rumor spread in such a way that interested candidatese directly to you before applying."


    Eleanor¡¯s expression darkened slightly. "The way things are going, Chinese citizens will face increasing difficulties in the U.S. I want to offer them refuge here... under our wing."


    She stood up and walked toward therge window, gazing out at the skyline. "A global cyber war is inevitable. We need to be ready."


    She turned back toward the others. "Launch a new high-end subscription n for our cybersecurity services, exclusive to government and state-owned enterprises. Teresa, get in touch with our cybersecurity team and make this happen. Those who fall under this new category must either upgrade or find another service provider. No exceptions."


    After some additional discussions on minor matters, the meeting ended. The others left the room, and Eleanor sat back down to review the files awaiting her. Despite delegating authority to her top executives, her workload remained daunting. Between her U.S. holdings and the new empire she was building in the Kingdom, her workload was increasing continuously.


    Sometimeter, Teresa entered her office to inform her, "The convoy is ready, Boss."


    Eleanor nodded, rising from her chair. She headed to her private room to change into a fresh executive suit... a deep purple one that gave her an air of regal authority. She applied light makeup, keeping it natural yet refined, then joined her team to depart for NexaByte Technologies.


    ***


    The sun hung high over the Manchester sky as nearly a hundred manager-level employees gathered in the spacious conference hall of NexaByte Technologies. The entire seventh floor of the ten-story building had been converted into a sleek, ss-walled conference area, bathed in sunlight streaming through the windows.


    Chairs were arranged in neat rows, and the employees sat in small clusters, whispering among themselves.


    "I saw our former chairman, Joseph Ingram, downstairs with Ava Martin," one employee murmured. "Isn¡¯t she the new CEO?"


    "Yeah," another nodded. "My friend in legal said Heimdall Technologies bought us out. One hundred percent shares. And Miss Martin was appointed as CEO by Heimdall."


    "Then I guess Chairman Ingram¡¯s here as a guest?"


    "Possibly. I also heard that some of the previous directors were allowed to stay on."


    "Right," another chimed in. "Heimdall¡¯s bought more than tenpanies already. They can¡¯t manage all of them hands-on, so they¡¯re keeping existing management in ce for now."


    "Then why did some of our colleagues resign?" someone else asked.


    "They probably had better offers," came the reply. "Think about it... we¡¯ve just been bought by a mysterious new yer. Heimdall may be rich, but it¡¯s still new. No one knows how they¡¯ll run things. It¡¯s a risk. Some people didn¡¯t want to gamble."


    "That¡¯s fair. But you don¡¯t throw that kind of money around unless you¡¯ve got a n," another said. "They must be confident about something."


    "I heard Heimdall employees are paid more. A lot of their people came from the U.S., or were headhunted from top firms. Even Ava Martin used to be just a manager there."


    "She was a manager?" someone repeated in disbelief. "Did you check her LinkedIn? She has a First ss Honours in Data Centre Leadership and Management from Anglia Ruskin. Won the Chancellor¡¯s Award, the ARU Academic Prize, and got featured on the university¡¯s website. Then she earned an MBA from Alliance Manchester Business School with distinction, Dean¡¯s Commendation, everything. She worked at Equinix as a Data Center Manager before Heimdall."


    "Damn!" "Whoa!" "She¡¯s the real deal."


    Phones came out as people began searching for her profile.


    "I¡¯m more curious about Heimdall¡¯s owner," someone mused. "He might be an impressive man to get that kind of capital?"


    A colleague whispered conspiratorially, "It¡¯s not a he. My friend at Heimdall¡¯s front desk swears the owner is a young woman... not even thirty. She¡¯s only seen her from afar, Teresa Li was following her."


    "She has no public records, no news articles, nothing," another added. "Only Teresa Li appears on the website."


    "She could be from an ultra-wealthy family keeping a low profile," someone suggested. "Some elites hate public attention."


    ***


    Outside the NexaByte building, rows of shiny ck Range Rovers pulled up. Doors opened in unison as ck-suited, armed guards stepped out. Some stood beside the vehicles; others fanned out around the perimeter.


    Onlookers pulled out phones to film, only to be met with polite but firm requests to stop. Thebination of cold expressions and visible weapons ensuredpliance.


    A few journalists, lurking nearby, tried to snap photos discreetly. But when the guards approached, they too backed off.


    Once the area was secure, a guard approached the central vehicle. With a light knock, the door opened, and a striking Asian woman in a tailored ck suit stepped out, radiating authority. She walked to the other side of the car.


    From the building, Ava Martin approached with NexaByte¡¯s current directors, including Joseph Ingram. A momentter, another door opened, and an elegant young woman appeared in her signature purple business suit.


    Ava and the others greeted her in unison.


    "Wee to NexaByte, Miss Raynor."


    Eleanor offered a polite nod. "Thank you. Please, lead the way."

 Chapter 58: You have a choice

    <h4>Chapter 58: You have a choice</h4> In the conference room, a quiet hum of chatter echoed as the employees waited for the arrival of their bosses. Some whispered among themselves, exchanging spections and guesses, while others sat nervously, adjusting their ties or tapping their pens against their notepads.


    Suddenly, the door to the conference room swung open. A wave of silence rippled through the room as the employees turned toward the entrance.


    Their CEO, Ava Martin, stepped inside first, then moved aside respectfully, allowing a young woman in a striking purple business suit to enter. The sharp clicking of the woman¡¯s high heels against the polished floor filled the room,manding attention with each confident step she took. Beside her was the former chairman of thepany, Joseph Ingram, who appeared to be exining something intently to the woman. Strangely enough, his posture and tone seemed less like that of a chairman and more like that of an employee reporting to his superior.


    All eyes in the conference room were immediately drawn to the young woman. She was breathtaking... one of the most beautiful women they had ever seen. With the added height from her heels, she stood close to six feet tall, making her tower slightly over Joseph Ingram. Her tailored business suit fit her like a second skin, radiating power and professionalism while subtly showcasing her graceful curves. Even without uttering a word, her presence exuded authority and maism, impossible to ignore.


    Trailing behind her, Ava Martin walked alongside Teresa Li, a familiar face among the employees due to her many public appearances as Heimdall Technologies¡¯ representative. Five other directors followed them closely, looking both excited and anxious. Two armed guards enteredst, closing the doors firmly behind them and positioning themselves at the entrance... a silent reminder of the importance of this gathering.


    When they reached the front of the room, Joseph Ingram gestured respectfully toward a seat reserved at the head of the table. The young woman sat down gracefully, followed by Teresa Li and then Ava Martin beside her. The seat on Eleanor¡¯s other side remained empty as Joseph took a position in front of her, standing respectfully.


    The directors and senior staff members settled into the front row of seats, all eyes glued to the unfolding scene.


    Joseph cleared his throat and asked politely, "Miss Raynor, may we begin the meeting?"


    The young woman smiled faintly and said, "Please. It¡¯s still yourpany."


    Joseph smiled, a mixture of pride and humility crossing his face, and confidently made his way to the podium. Adjusting the microphone, he paused briefly topose his thoughts before addressing the assembled employees.


    "Ladies and gentlemen," Joseph began, "wee to the first formal employee meeting of NexaByte Technologies after our change in ownership. As many of you may already know, Heimdall Technologies is now the proud owner of NexaByte."


    He paused, scanning the audience. "Now, some of you might be wondering... if ownership has changed, why am I still standing here?"


    A few chuckles rippled through the room, easing the tension slightly.


    Joseph continued, "Following the acquisition, Heimdall Technologies extended an extraordinary offer to the founding directors... an opportunity rarely seen in the business world. They allowed us to retain our director positions, to continue leading thepany we built with our own hands. We epted, grateful for the chance to carry forward our vision."


    He paused again, letting his words sink in, then added, "You might also wonder why we chose to sell thepany if we still had a vested interest. The truth is, we were doing well until thepetition intensified. Tech giants with vast capital investments established advanced data centers here in the Kingdom. Withoutparable resources, we fell behind. Gradually, we started losing money, even though we managed to pay your sries on time."


    There was a somber murmur among the employees.


    "We were on the verge of copse," Joseph admitted. "At that critical moment, Heimdall Technologies came to us like a lifeline. We sold thepany, but we did not sell our passion, our dedication, or our dreams. That¡¯s why I stand before you today... not as a defeated man, but as a leader grateful for a second chance."


    His voice softened with emotion. "To Heimdall, we extend our heartfelt thanks. We raised thispany like our own child. Our blood, sweat, time, and resources were poured into it. And now, we are excited to see NexaByte enter a new era of greatness."


    Joseph drew a deep breath and concluded, "I believe in Heimdall. We believe in Heimdall. And I urge all of you to believe as well. Together, we can reach unprecedented heights."


    He smiled warmly at the employees, then said, "Now, without taking up more of your time, I am honored to introduce today¡¯s guest of honor... the chairman of Heimdall Technologies, Miss Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. Please wee her with a warm round of apuse!"


    As he gestured toward Eleanor, the room erupted into thunderous apuse.


    Amid the apuse, Eleanor rose gracefully from her seat and walked toward the podium. The employees, captivated by her presence, could barely tear their eyes away.


    As the apuse died down, a heavy silence enveloped the room. It was so quiet that the sound of a pin dropping could have been heard.


    Eleanor stood still for a few moments, surveying the room with her calm, piercing green eyes. Her wavy, silver-tinged hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face so wlessly beautiful that even the women in the room felt a pang of awe. Her skin seemed almost ethereal... fair, luminous, and wless.


    After a moment, she spoke... her voice carrying a distinct, pure British ent.


    "Good morning, everyone," Eleanor began, her voice cool yetmanding. "I am Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, your new boss."


    She paused, allowing her words to settle before continuing, "I dislike public appearances. Therefore, only the high-level employees of NexaByte are attending today¡¯s meeting."


    Her gaze swept across the room. "Your CEO, Ava Martin, wanted to organize a general meeting for all employees. However, I did not find it necessary. Each of us has our own responsibilities within thispany. As long as you fulfill your duties with excellence, we have no need for unnecessary familiarity. I believe in the right person in the right position. In business, it is not our words that speak for us... it is our work."


    The employees listened, enraptured.


    "I am here today at Ava¡¯s insistence," Eleanor continued. "She requested that I personally assure you that NexaByte is not just another acquisition for Heimdall Technologies. It has an important and strategic role. NexaByte will operate Heimdall¡¯s first data center in the Kingdom."


    There was a ripple of interest through the audience.


    "I have heard," Eleanor said calmly, "that some employees have already left, others intend to leave, and many more are uncertain about their future here."


    Her expression hardened slightly. "I feel somewhat sorry for Ava¡¯s concerns. Personally, I have never pleaded with any employee to stay. I would rather let people leave if theyck the ambition or resilience to stay. If you perform your duties well, you will be rewarded. If you excel, you will be promoted. That is all there is to it."


    Her voice grew firmer. "Today, I want you to understand the true nature of Heimdall. Heimdall is not merely apany. It is a global tech conglomerate,prising thirty-sevenpanies... NexaByte being one of them."


    There were murmurs of surprise.


    "Understand this clearly," Eleanor said. "If NexaByte fails, it will impact thirty-six otherpanies under Heimdall¡¯s umbre. We will not sit idly by while ipetence destroys what we have built. Responsibility is paramount."


    A shiver passed through the audience.


    "We have acquired all surrounding plots near our Trafford Park data center," Eleanor informed them. "We will remodel, expand, and upgrade it into one of the finest data centers in the world."


    Pride gleamed in her eyes as she spoke.


    "Therefore," Eleanor said, her voice like steel, "if you wish to leave NexaByte, today is your opportunity. After this meeting, NexaByte will formally implement Heimdall¡¯s corporate policies... including higher sries, better job security, and enhanced benefits... but also stricter responsibilities and expectations."


    A gasp rippled through the employees, followed by a wave of murmurs. Several employees exchanged excited nces, clearly ted by the news of improved sries and benefits.


    But not everyone shared the joy.


    One man, sitting rigidly at the back, was sweating bullets. His face had gone pale the moment Eleanor walked into the room. His name was Daan Hendriks, the manager of NexaByte¡¯s logistics department.


    Daan had crossed paths with Eleanor once before, in a Louis Vuitton gship store. That encounter had been disastrous. At the time, his girlfriend Willow White, had insulted Eleanor, causing a scene. Daan had witnessed firsthand the fearful deference shown by the store manager toward Eleanor after she casually handed over a card that clearly signified immense power. He had dragged Willow out of the store that day, avoiding any conflict.


    And now, that same woman stood before him... as his ultimate boss.


    Daan¡¯s mind raced with panic. He knew he wasn¡¯t as academically qualified as others in simr positions. His career had been built through sheer hard work. If he lost his job at NexaByte, he doubted anotherpany would offer him anything close to his current position.


    Desperation gripped him as he frantically thought of ways to salvage his job... ways to seek forgiveness, if necessary. But what if it was toote?


    Meanwhile, Eleanor was concluding her speech.


    "I do not tolerate mediocrity," she said crisply. "Whether you are a CEO or a cleaner, I expect excellence. Excellence is not about grand gestures. It is about doing your job perfectly, no matter how small orrge."


    Her voice dropped to a chilling softness. "If you are mediocre, if you cannot uphold the standards we require, I would be grateful if you leave voluntarily."


    Her words cut through the room like a de.


    "You have a choice," Eleanor finished. "Join an excellent team... or relieve us of your mediocrity."

 Chapter 59: New Contracts for All

    <h4>Chapter 59: New Contracts for All</h4>


    Finishing her speech, Eleanor stepped down from the podium and returned to her seat. The employees watched her in stunned silence as Teresa Li walked up to the podium, wearing a professional smile.


    "Everyone, please remain seated," Teresa announced. "The Chairman will now leave, but our legal team will arrive shortly. Each of you will have the opportunity to sign a new employment agreement, reflecting updated sries, benefits, and responsibilities. If you have any questions, you may address them directly to our legal team. Thank you."


    She paused for a moment, letting the words settle, before adding with a small grin, "NexaByte, wee to Heimdall."


    After saying that, she walked toward Eleanor, nced briefly at her phone, and said in a low voice, "Boss, we¡¯re ready to go."


    Eleanor stood up gracefully, her calm gaze sweeping across the employees onest time before she began walking out of the conference room. Teresa, Joseph, Ava, and the other directors followed closely behind her.


    Just as Eleanor was about to leave through the main door, Daan Hendriks, who had been battling with a growing sense of panic, suddenly stood up from his seat. Without thinking, he rushed towards the door, only to be stopped abruptly by two bodyguards standing like statues.


    "Please, I need to speak with the Chairman! It¡¯s an urgent matter! Please let me pass!" he pleaded, desperation thick in his voice.


    But the guards remained unmoved. They had clear instructions: without Ava Martin¡¯s permission, no one was allowed to leave the conference room.


    By then, Eleanor and her group had already walked a fair distance away. However, her super-sensitive hearing caught themotion behind. Out of curiosity, she paused and turned slightly to look back.


    Everyone behind her stopped as well, their eyes naturally following her line of sight. They saw Daan frantically trying to reason with the guards, his face filled with anxiety.


    A sh of memory passed through Eleanor¡¯s mind. She recognized Daan, he was the man who had been with Willow White at the Louis Vuitton store during the embarrassing incident.


    Calmly, she asked Ava, "Who is he?"


    Ava nced at the man before replying, "His name is Daan Hendriks, General Manager of the Logistics Department."


    "Is hepetent?" Eleanor asked, her tone neutral but curious.


    "His performance is excellent. Everyone likes him," Ava replied without hesitation.


    At that moment, Dennis West, one of the directors who had been silent all along, spoke up, "He¡¯s a verypetent worker. In fact, I promoted him to his current position because of his dedication and hard work, despite hisck of formal academic qualifications."


    Eleanor considered it briefly, then said, "Alright. Let¡¯s hear what he has to say."


    Ava nodded and walked toward the guards. She gave a slight hand signal, and they immediately stepped aside, allowing Daan to pass.


    He hurried toward Ava, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he whispered.


    Then, gathering his courage, he asked, "May I speak with the Chairman, please?"


    Ava nodded, knowing Eleanor was willing to hear him out. "Come with me," she said.


    As they approached the group, Daan looked Eleanor straight in the eyes. His heart sank a little when he saw no recognition in her stone-cold green gaze. Clearly, the incident at the store was a mere blip on her radar, something she had long forgotten.


    Nevertheless, he steeled himself. He had decided he woulde clean... whatever the consequences.


    Before anyone could prompt him, he began speaking.


    "Chairman... no, Ma¡¯am, I have a confession to make," he said, his voice slightly trembling. "You might not remember someone as insignificant as me, but a few days ago, there was an unpleasant incident involving you at the Louis Vuitton store. My girlfriend caused a scene. I didn¡¯t directly participate, but... I was there. I want to apologize for that."


    A murmur spread among the directors. Even Teresa and Ava looked surprised. They hadn¡¯t expected this kind of revtion.


    Daan, now staring at the floor, continued, "My wife remarried a long time ago. My two children are living in university dormitories. I¡¯ve been alone. At a party, I met that woman... We got involved after a night of drinking. She was young, and I, foolishly, let her into my life."


    He paused, taking a deep breath.


    "I knew she was with me only for my money. There was never much emotional involvement. I was simply... enjoying thepany. But I love my job here. NexaByte was my first employer, and I¡¯ve dedicated my entire professional life to thispany. I don¡¯t want to lose it because of one foolish mistake."


    He lifted his eyes again, pleading silently. "I¡¯ll break up with her today. I swear. Please... let me stay."


    A heavy silence fell.


    The directors exchanged looks; some were confused, others curious. Teresa and Ava remained quiet, though there was a subtle gleam of admiration in their eyes for his honesty.


    Eleanor, on the other hand, maintained her icyposure. Without any hint of emotion, she said in a clear, steady voice, "Your personal life has no bearing on me. I don¡¯t care where you live or who you live with. As your employer, I care only about your performance and your loyalty to thepany. Work diligently and protect thepany¡¯s secrets... that is enough."


    With that, Eleanor turned around and stepped into the waiting elevator. The others followed silently.


    Daan stood there for a long moment, feeling both relieved and humbled. He slowly returned to the conference room, his steps lighter than before.


    Back in the conference room, Ava Martin and the directors returned after seeing off Eleanor and the others. But they weren¡¯t alone. Tenwyers from Heimdall¡¯s legal department apanied them.


    Once everyone was settled, Ava walked to the podium and spoke briskly.


    "Before we proceed, may I ask if anyone wishes to leave thepany rather than sign the new contract?" she asked, scanning the room.


    No hands were raised.


    Nodding in satisfaction, Ava continued, "Very well. We will call you individually. When your name is called, please stand up and collect your employment folder from the legal team."


    Names were called one by one. As each employee stood, awyer handed them a folder with their name clearly printed on it.


    Inside the folders were their updated contracts, detailed lists of new benefits, and descriptions of their job responsibilities. One new addition immediately caught everyone¡¯s attention: the confidentiality

 Chapter 60: The Name You Mustn’t Search

    <h4>Chapter 60: The Name You Mustn¡¯t Search</h4>


    Soon, a low buzz of conversation spread across the room.


    "I got promoted to Senior Manager!" one employee whispered excitedly. "What about you?"


    "No, I¡¯m in the same position. But congrattions!" another replied.


    "I even get a transportation allowance now!"


    "That¡¯s awesome! My sry increased too... but what¡¯s with this confidentiality agreement?"


    A small group gathered to discuss it.


    "I heard about this," someone said confidently. "My cousin works at Heimdall. They all have to sign strict confidentiality agreements."


    "What¡¯s your agreement value?" another asked.


    "One million pounds," he replied, grinning.


    "What? Mine¡¯s five million! But we¡¯re at the same level in thepany!"


    "Maybe it¡¯s because you work in Finance. Higher risk of sensitive information leaking."


    Across the room, another employee raised his hand to call awyer over.


    "Excuse me," he said. "Some of us are confused. Why do people in the same role have different confidentiality penalties?"


    Thewyer smiled professionally. "Thank you for your question. Please be patient. After everyone has received their documents, we¡¯ll provide a general briefing and answer all your queries."


    Within fifteen minutes, everyone had received their folders.


    At the podium, Ava cleared her throat to get everyone¡¯s attention.


    "First of all, congrattions to those who have been promoted," she said warmly. "I hope everyone is satisfied with their updated sries and benefits. Please remember, Heimdall offers some of the highest employee benefits in the Kingdom."


    "But," she continued, her tone turning serious, "these benefitse with responsibilities. Your work will now be judged by Heimdall¡¯s strict standards. Mediocrity will not be tolerated."


    She pointed toward the contracts.


    "As you can see, you must sign a confidentiality agreement. Heimdall values secrecy. Every employee, from top executives to janitors, must protectpany information. You are prohibited from discussing your work, even with your colleagues, unless necessary."


    The employees listened in stunned silence.


    "Our Chairman, Miss Raynor, dislikes publicity. Do not discuss her outside this office. Do not post anything about her on social media. If you do..." she smiled coldly, "we will know. We are an IT conglomerate, after all. Tracking digital footprints is easier for us than it is for government security agencies."


    "As for the different penalty amounts in your agreements," she continued, "they are based on your roles and the sensitivity of the information you will handle. The amount represents the penalty you must pay if you breach confidentiality. You don¡¯t have to worry if you can maintain your side of the duties."


    "If you have doubts or questions, ourwyers are here to assist you. Take your time. Make sure you understand everything before signing."


    With a final nod, Ava left the podium and returned to her seat, chatting casually with the directors.


    The employees buzzed among themselves, some nervously flipping through their contracts, others confidently asking questions to thewyers.


    Nearly half an hourter, all the contracts were signed. Thewyers carefully collected the documents and handed them over to Ava.


    Satisfied, Ava and the directors stood up and left the room. The two guards, who had been stationed at the doors, followed them out.


    As soon as the guards disappeared, one employee leaned toward another and whispered, "Did you notice? The guards didn¡¯t leave until everyone signed. If anyone refused, I bet they had other documents ready... before throwing them out."


    "I thought the same," his friend whispered back.


    They chuckled quietly.


    Then, remembering something, one of them said, "I saw Mr. Hendriks leave earlier. Let¡¯s ask him."


    They approached Daan, who was quietly sitting at a corner table.


    "Mr. Hendriks," one of them asked, "why did you leave earlier? Is everything alright?"


    Daan looked up, his face neutral. "Nothing serious. I had a minor encounter with the Chairman at a shopping mall a few days ago. I didn¡¯t know she was our boss at the time. I just wanted to apologize in person."


    He shrugged slightly. "She didn¡¯t even remember me. She said my personal life didn¡¯t matter to her, only my performance at work."


    The employee nodded thoughtfully.


    "And the guards?" he pressed.


    "They wouldn¡¯t let me pass without Miss Martin¡¯s permission," Daan exined. "But when she saw me talking to them, she ordered them to let me through. That¡¯s all."


    Satisfied, the man turned to his friend and grinned. "See? We guessed it right."


    At that moment, someone nearby let out a loud, frustrated curse.


    "Fuck!"


    All eyes immediately turned towards the sound. It was rare, almost unheard of... to hear someone curse so loudly in such a formal and official gathering.


    "What happened?" someone nearby asked, frowning in concern.


    The man who had cursed was Ruben Vermeulen, one of the coordinators of the data center management team. Ruben was well known for his amiable personality and innocent, almost boyish face. Seeing someone like him loseposure and curse so loudly piqued everyone¡¯s curiosity.


    Ruben ran a hand through his hair, his face still pale. "I just searched our chairman¡¯s name on Google... My phone went ck and is restarting on its own."


    The entire room fell into a stunned silence. A heavy tension gripped the air, as if everyone was waiting for something more to happen. After a few moments, someone tentatively asked, "Are you sure your phone restarted just because you searched her name?"


    "Yes!" Ruben nodded vigorously. "I didn¡¯t do anything else. I just typed her name and hit search. And my phone is barely a month old!"


    As if to confirm, Ruben¡¯s phone finally finished restarting. With visible relief, he checked it carefully, letting out a breath. "Okay, my phone¡¯s fine. Thank God. No data lost." His voice still shook slightly.


    Another man nearby held up his own phone and said confidently, "I also searched for her. Google¡¯s working perfectly on mine."


    "What did you find?" another curious voice asked.


    "Nothing suspicious. The first page just shows random Eleanors... none of them her. Checked the second page too, still nothing."


    After a few more moments of scrolling, he dered loudly, "I¡¯m on the tenth page. Still nothing about her."


    Someone asked, "Wait... what exactly did you search for?"


    He replied, "Eleanor."


    All heads turned toward Ruben again. "And what did you search?" someone asked him.


    Ruben¡¯s expression darkened. "I searched ¡¯Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor.¡¯ The full name."

 Chapter 61: The Piano Lesson

    <h4>Chapter 61: The Piano Lesson</h4>


    Just then, another employee let out a startled cry. "Shit! My phone¡¯s restarting too! I searched the full name just now!"


    "Same here! What the hell is happening?"


    Panic started to ripple through the room.


    An older manager from the IT department, known for his calm demeanor, stood up and said gravely, "Everyone, stop searching immediately. I think this is a deliberate warning. Think about it... either Google itself has implemented a restart protocol that overrides all security firewalls, or someone powerful enough has hacked into Google¡¯s system to set this up. Both possibilities are terrifying."


    A nervous chatter broke out instantly.


    Around the room, more people reported sudden restarts... regardless of the search engine they used. It became obvious that searching ¡¯Eleanor¡¯ or ¡¯Eleanor Elizabeth¡¯ brought nothing unusual. But searching ¡¯Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor¡¯ resulted in a device restart, no matter the tform.


    One woman clutched herptop in horror. "Myptop just restarted too! I thought only phones were affected..."


    Gradually, an unsettling realization dawned over the gathered employees: there was absolutely no public record of their boss online. It was as if Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor didn¡¯t exist in the world at all. The more tech-savvy employees felt a cold shiver running down their spines.


    Who could erase someone¡¯s entire existence from the inte so cleanly... yet leave such a terrifying booby trap for anyone curious enough to dig?


    At the same time, the employees also felt a deep, unexpected sense of relief. Doubts or reservations they might have harbored about thepany¡¯s mysterious new owner evaporated like mist under the midday sun. If someone had the power to do this, then NexaByte Technologies was in very, very capable hands.


    Only awe and respect remained in their hearts.


    ***


    Meanwhile, from NexaByte Technologies, Eleanor had quietly gone home while Teresa remained behind at the office to handle a few pressing matters.


    When Eleanor stepped inside her home, the soft strains of piano music greeted her ears. Following the sound, she found herself standing at the door of her living room, where a beautiful scene unfolded before her eyes.


    There, in front of arge piano she didn¡¯t remember owning, sat one big and one small one. Ethan was seated beside Freya, gently guiding her small hands across the piano keys.


    They were so engrossed in the music, so wrapped up in their world that neither noticed her arrival.


    Eleanor watched silently for a few moments. But as an adult werewolf, Ethan¡¯s senses were sharper than any humans. He was the first to detect her presence. He turned his head slightly, his expression softening as he caught sight of her.


    "When did youe in?" he asked with a smile.


    Eleanor walked closer and asked instead, "When did you bring a piano here?"


    "Just a few hours ago," Ethan replied casually. "Freya mentioned she wanted to learn, so I ordered one and got it delivered immediately. Figured I¡¯d start teaching her."


    "Mommy!" Freya chirped happily, bouncing on her stool. "Daddy¡¯s amazing! He can y any song I ask for!"


    Eleanor arched an eyebrow. "When did you learn how to y piano? You never mentioned it before."


    Ethan chuckled softly, his hand absently ruffling Freya¡¯s hair. "My mother taught me when I was a kid. I even earned a professional certificate. Besides, I performed a few times during university events."


    He paused, his smile faltering slightly. "But... you never attended those performances." His voice turned softer, almost wistful.


    Eleanor immediately understood. Those were the days when she had been dating James Clifford, too consumed by that toxic rtionship to notice the small but important things happening around her.


    Sensing the change in atmosphere, Eleanor quickly changed the subject. "Freya, go take a bath and get ready for lunch."


    "Yes, Mommy!" Freya agreed readily. "Daddy¡¯s making Shepherd¡¯s Pie for me!"


    Ethanughed. "Alright. I¡¯ll start preparing lunch. You go get ready, and I¡¯ll send your nanny to help you."


    "Okay, Daddy!" Freya sang, skipping away happily.


    Eleanor turned and left as well, heading toward her room. Her mind, however, was far from peaceful. She noticed how quickly and deeply Freya was bing attached to Ethan. It made sense... he was warm, loving, patient. Everything a father should be.


    But a nagging fear gnawed at Eleanor¡¯s heart.


    What if Ethan eventually moved on? What if he married someone else and built a new family? What would happen to Freya then? Would her little heart shatter from the loss?


    Eleanor decided she needed to have a serious talk with Ethan. Sooner rather thanter.


    Just as she was about to enter her room, she sensed another presence inside. Instinctively, she paused, probing carefully.


    She realized it was Ophelia, her shadow guard. She rxed and entered her room.


    Closing the door behind her, Eleanor asked calmly, "Ophelia, do you have a report for me?"


    Ophelia stood straight, her expressionposed. "Yes, Ma¡¯am. I have gathered information about June Osborne, the girl you instructed me to investigate."


    Eleanor arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright. Tell me. Short version or long?"


    Ophelia¡¯s lips twitched into a faint smile. "It¡¯s quite an interesting story. I rmend the long version."


    Eleanor smiled faintly and moved to sit in the plush chair by her bedside. "Then take a seat and tell me everything."


    Obediently, Ophelia took the chair opposite her and began.


    "June Osborne¡¯s mother was Kelly Wilson. In every official document, no father was listed. However, there was a record of a ¡¯local guardian¡¯ who paid for Kelly¡¯s hospital bills when June was born."


    Eleanor leaned forward slightly. "Who?"


    Ophelia¡¯s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Cole Palmer. The former Archdeacon of Manchester."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyebrows shot up.


    Ophelia continued smoothly. "Kelly Wilson came to Manchester with a Ghanaian passport, though her appearance was pure British. ording to the documents, she was an orphan raised in a church-run orphanage in Ghana. She came here on a religious exchange to learn from the Church of Manchester. Strangely, within a year, she acquired British citizenship through the church¡¯s sponsorship."


    "She was already pregnant when she arrived," Ophelia added. "She lived in a house owned by the church, and all her expenses were covered by Cole Palmer. Interestingly, there is no record of any protest from his family about this arrangement."


    Eleanor frowned. "So, the father wasn¡¯t Palmer?"

 Chapter 62: June Osborne

    <h4>Chapter 62: June Osborne</h4>


    Ophelia shook her head. "No. Palmer never traveled to Ghana, and ording to old church staff, he simply said he was protecting two lives and requested that Kelly and her child be kept low profile. It seems their real enemies were here, in the Kingdom."


    Eleanor tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. "What about Kelly¡¯s background?"


    Ophelia smiled faintly. "Kelly worked as a finance officer in the church. Despite having no listed educational background, she was described as better at financial management than trained professionals. She even acted as an unofficial Director of Finance for a time."


    "In my opinion," Ophelia said, voice firm, "she likely had a high-level degree or professional training but had to bury her identity for her safety."


    Eleanor nodded in affirmation while Ophelia continued. "When her daughter was born, the Archdeacon chose to name her June Osborne, in honor of the first female Dean of any medieval cathedral in Britain. It was a symbolic gesture. Archdeacon Cole Palmer made her name known to all the staff and treated her like a child personally protected by the Church. I learned this detail from an elderly staff member... someone who had worked closely with Kelly Wilson during those years."


    Ophelia paused briefly, allowing her words to settle. Eleanor said nothing, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Ophelia continued.


    "After her birth, June showed remarkable intelligence and a strong aptitude for learning. From a very young age, she outshone her peers. She began her education at a local church-run school, where tuition was free for children from underprivileged families. Yet even among them, she stood out. With each stage of her academic life, she earned numerous schrships and academic awards. She never once needed to pay for her education."


    "Shepleted her bachelor¡¯s degree in International Business, Finance, and Economics at the University of Manchester," Ophelia added. "She was admitted with a full university schrship and graduated with the highest honors, sweeping every award in her department. Currently, she¡¯s pursuing her Master¡¯s degree in Business Analysis and Strategic Management at the Alliance Manchester Business School. Again, under a full schrship."


    Ophelia paused for a moment, then continued. "While studying, she worked part-time at various ces... KFC, Tesco, UNIQLO, and others. Later, she gained recognition in retail sales and was awarded several performance des from thesepanies. Recently, she worked at Louis Vuitton for over a year, where she won ¡¯Employee of the Month¡¯ three times and was nominated for the regional ¡¯Best Retail Assistant¡¯ award."


    "But..." Ophelia¡¯s expression darkened slightly, "things took a turn recently. Few days ago, she unintentionally offended a wealthy woman who visited the store. A few dayster, that woman returned with a group of high-society friends, all with membership cards. They caused a scene, lodged a formalint with the corporate office, and used June of misconduct."


    "The store manager initially defended her, but the corporate response was swift, and June was terminated. Soon after, the same group of women began contacting other high-end stores in the area, warning them against hiring her. Whether out of fear or caution, every ce she appliedter turned her down. Eventually, she ended up working off-the-books at the gas station."


    Eleanor frowned. "If the former Archdeacon was protecting her, why was she forced into such desperation? Doesn¡¯t the university schrship cover her expenses?"


    "I wondered that too," Ophelia said. "So, I dug deeper. Currently, she¡¯s receiving the Manchester Alumni Loyalty Discount, meaning she pays no tuition for her Master¡¯s degree. She also receives a ¡ê200 stipend from a Church foundation each month. Meanwhile, her mother, Kelly Wilson, receives a ¡ê600 pension from The Church of Ennd Pension Board. But..."


    She paused for a moment, then continued, "Almost two years ago, Kelly was diagnosed with Chronic Kidney Disease. While NHS covered most of the direct medical costs, she was prescribed home dialysis... four-hour sessions, three to four times a week. The dietary requirements, medications, and increased utility bills from the dialysis equipment have ced a heavy financial strain on them. Their monthly medical expenses now exceed ¡ê1000, and that¡¯s a conservative estimate based on her GP¡¯s input."


    "Though they still live rent-free in a house owned by the Church, their savings are nearly depleted. Kelly was medically advised to stop working and took early retirement. The financial burden fell solely on June. That¡¯s why she desperately needs part-time work, despite her rigorous academicmitments."


    Eleanor remained silent for a few moments. Her fingers tapped gently on the armrest of her chair.


    "So, this girl... June Osborne... is an exceptionally talented student, skilled in sales, resilient in the face of hardship, and loyal to her mother. Yet now, she¡¯s being punished by society for crossing paths with people like us. People with too much power and too little empathy."


    Ophelia didn¡¯t answer. She waited.


    Eleanor finally spoke, her voice decisive. "From what you¡¯ve said, I can see potential in June. She¡¯s skilled, driven, and currently vulnerable. This is the perfect moment to bring her in... especially because her troubles stem from a situation I unintentionally caused."


    She paused to think. "Meet with Kelly Wilson. Be respectful. Exin the circumstances behind June¡¯s job loss and offer my personal apology. Then, invite June to Heimdall for a walk-in interview. Let her know that we¡¯re offering a part-time position with pay equal to or greater than her previous role at Louis Vuitton. The job will continue until shepletes her degree."


    Ophelia nodded in understanding, but Eleanor wasn¡¯t finished.


    "I also want you to investigate Kelly Wilson more thoroughly," she added. "There¡¯s something off about her past. An Archdeacon doesn¡¯t fund a stranger just out of charity... especially not without attracting attention. I don¡¯t buy this Ghanaian orphan story. Look for any clues in their home. Find out who June¡¯s real father is. If he turns out to be someone influential or dangerous, I need to know. If June performs well, she could be a valuable asset. But if her bloodline poses a threat... I must be cautious."


    Ophelia¡¯s expression turned more serious. "One of our extended family branches settled in Ghana during the colonial era. They¡¯re still well-connected in the region. If you want, I can reach out to them. They might be able to trace Kelly¡¯s origins through the church records there."


    Eleanor gave a slow nod. "Yes. Do it. Start tonight. Use all resources necessary, but don¡¯t alert June or her mother. I don¡¯t want them suspecting we¡¯re digging into their past."


    "Understood, Ma¡¯am," Ophelia said, standing up.


    Eleanor stood as well and walked toward the bathroom. "If that¡¯s all, I¡¯d like to take a bath before dinner."


    Ophelia gave a small bow. "Yes, Ma¡¯am."


    With that, she vanished into the shadows, leaving Eleanor alone with her thoughts.

 Chapter 63: Cooking for Freya

    <h4>Chapter 63: Cooking for Freya</h4>


    In the dining room, Freya sat at the table swinging her legs under the chair, a slight frown forming on her delicate face. "Daddy, I¡¯m hungry," she said, her small voice edged with impatience.


    From the kitchen, Ethan called out, "Five more minutes for the pie, Princess. I¡¯m bringing a starter in just one minute."


    True to his word, he lifted the lid of the steamer and carefully scooped the tender green beans into a ceramic bowl. He sprinkled a bit of pink salt over them and gently stirred the steaming beans with a wooden spoon. Then, he added a dusting of freshly grated lemon zest, letting the citrus aroma infuse the dish.


    He stepped into the dining room with the bowl in his hands and a theatrical flourish in his voice. "Your Highness, here are your Steamed Green Beans." He bowed as if presenting a royal offering.


    Freya giggled at his exaggerated gesture, her eyes lighting up with joy.


    Ethan sat down beside her briefly, took a spoon, and served a small portion onto her te. "They¡¯re still hot, so wait a little before eating."


    Just then, the oven beeped from the kitchen.


    "Oh! The broli¡¯s done. I¡¯ll be right back," he said, hurrying away.


    Back in the kitchen, he opened the oven and took out the tray of beautifully roasted broli, their edges crisped to perfection. He transferred them into another serving bowl, squeezed a wedge of fresh lemon over the florets, and sprinkled more lemon zest on top to brighten the vor.


    Bncing the bowl of roasted broli in one hand and a Shepherd¡¯s pie in the other, he returned to the dining room. He carefully ced the two dishes on the table and disappeared into the kitchen once again to remove his apron and wash his hands. After a quick refresh, he rejoined Freya at the table, settling into his seat beside her.


    As soon as he sat down, Freya tugged on his sleeve. "Daddy, I want pie."


    "Okay," Ethan replied, cutting a small piece and cing it on her te. "Let it cool slightly. It¡¯s still very hot."


    "Okay, Daddy," she said, obediently staring at the food on her te.


    "Have some broli while you wait," he added, cing a few pieces on her te with care.


    At that moment, Eleanor entered the room.


    She stopped short, taking in the scene with surprise. The dining table was neatly arranged and covered with dishes: a golden Shepherd¡¯s pie fresh from the oven, garlic-roasted broli, and steamed green beans glistening under the light. A small bowl of sd rested in the center, filled with fresh arug, baby spinach, cherry tomatoes, sliced cucumber, and dressed lightly with a balsamic vinaigrette. In front of Freya was a tall ss of citrus-infused water with slices of lemon and orange floating inside. Two additional sses on the table were filled with red wine.


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes widened slightly in admiration.


    "Ma¡¯am," Ethan said, standing and gesturing politely toward the seat across from him, "please be seated."


    She approached the table slowly, still scanning the array of food, and took the offered seat. A polished porcin te was already set before her.


    Once she was settled, Ethan began to serve her, cing portions of each dish on her te with practiced precision. Finally, he ced a ss of red wine before her and said, "Your favorite... Pinot Noir."


    Eleanor arched a brow, her lips twitching in amusement. "You made all of this?"


    He gave a sheepish smile. "The kitchen staff prepared the ingredients in advance. I just assembled and cooked everything. Nothing tooplicated."


    Eleanor picked up a fork and tried a small bite of broli. Her eyes lit up at the vor. "Mmm. This is good. You¡¯re a surprisingly good cook."


    Freya, still chewing on a piece of pie, chimed in proudly, "My daddy is the best! He made all of this for me."


    Ethan smiled warmly and ruffled her hair. "Eat slowly. It¡¯s still hot, sweetheart."


    Eleanor continued tasting the other dishes, surprised at how well everything was seasoned and cooked. The vors were bnced, the textures perfect. There was a noticeable sense of care in every bite, and that touched her more than she expected.


    She thought silently, I never knew he could cook like this. Sometimes it¡¯s good to have a change from the kitchen staff¡¯s food.


    Out loud, she said, "You¡¯ve got skills. What else can you cook besides this?"


    Ethan served himself a portion and began eating alongside them. "What would you like to eat?" he asked, tilting his head curiously.


    "Can you cook anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.


    He chuckled softly. "After Freya was born, I decided to take some cooking sses. Back then, I wanted to contribute in a way that could help you raise our daughter. I knew you couldn¡¯t cook, so I thought I should learn."


    Eleanor crossed her arms with a slightly offended look. "Excuse me... I can cook."


    Ethan smiled knowingly. "Instant noodles and ready-to-eat frozen food you toss into the oven for a few minutes don¡¯t count as cooking."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed. "That¡¯s also cooking. Freya loves my noodles. Don¡¯t you, sweetie?"


    With a full mouth, Freya nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Mommy¡¯s noodles are yummy!"


    Ethan raised both hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I surrender. You¡¯re a great cook."


    "That¡¯s more like it." Eleanor smirked but kept eating, secretly enjoying the taste of the homemade meal. "Maybe it tastes better because I was hungry," she thought stubbornly, unwilling to give him too much credit.


    After a few more bites, she asked, "Don¡¯t you have work today?"


    "I went to the office this morning," Ethan said, casually sipping his wine. "But then I came here to spend time with Freya. Jack can handle the rest. He¡¯s apetent assistant."


    He nced at Freya fondly. "Besides, she¡¯s starting school tomorrow. I wanted to make the most of today with her."


    At the mention of school, Freya¡¯s expression turned glum. Her fork paused mid-air. "I don¡¯t want to go to school," she mumbled. "I can learn everything at home."


    Eleanor sighed softly. "We¡¯ve talked about this already, sweetheart. You¡¯ll be at school from 8:30 AM to 3:30 PM. That¡¯s the same time I go to work. You¡¯ve been staying home alone during those hours. Instead, you¡¯ll be with other children and learning new things. I¡¯ll drop you off and pick you up every day. And don¡¯t worry... you¡¯ll make lots of friends."


    Freya hesitated, staring at her te. "But... what if they don¡¯t like me?"


    Eleanor leaned in and touched her daughter¡¯s cheek. "You are smart, kind, and adorable. Everyone will love you."


    Freya¡¯s voice lowered. "What if someone bullies me?"


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes softened. "If someone is unkind, tell your teacher immediately. The teachers are there to protect you. And if anything happens... anything at all... ask them to call me. I¡¯lle right away, no matter what."


    "But Mommy..." Freya said, her voice trembling slightly.


    Ethan reached over and ced his hand over hers. "Your mommy is right. And remember, you don¡¯t have to be friends with people you don¡¯t like. It¡¯s your choice. You can learn at home, that¡¯s true. But school will help you grow in other ways too."


    He continued gently, "One day, you¡¯ll work with humans like your mother and me. Learning to understand them, starting now, will help you a lot. Besides..." He smiled. "There¡¯ll be others like you in school... children who¡¯lle in their human form, just like you. It¡¯ll be fun."


    Freya looked at him, then at Eleanor. She sighed softly and gave a reluctant nod. "Okay... I¡¯ll try."


    Both parents smiled. Ethan leaned in and kissed the top of her head. "That¡¯s my brave girl."


    After lunch, Ethan returned to his office to catch up on work. Eleanor carried Freya to her room, changed her intofortable clothes, and tucked her in for a nap. Once Freya fell asleep, Eleanor quietly returned to her own room and reviewed the documents sent from the office earlier that day.


    The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. But in her heart, Eleanor couldn¡¯t forget the warmth of that simple lunch... the smell of lemon zest, the sight of Ethan carefully preparing each dish, and the joy in Freya¡¯s face as she enjoyed a meal made just for her.

 Chapter 64: First Day at School

    <h4>Chapter 64: First Day at School</h4>


    The next morning, Eleanor woke up earlier than usual. A quiet sense of nervous excitement hung in the air... it was Freya¡¯s first day at school. She moved quickly and efficiently, preparing Freya¡¯s schoolbag with the items she had already purchased: an extra change of clothes, socks, and the iPad required by the school. She double-checked everything... water bottle, wet tissues, and a small card with her phone number written clearly.


    She gave a soft sigh of satisfaction as she zipped the bag shut. Just then, a sleepy voice called from the bed.


    "Mommy... what are you doing?"


    Eleanor turned to see Freya rubbing her eyes, her soft silver hair tousled from sleep.


    "Your schoolbag is ready," Eleanor replied gently. "Now let¡¯s eat breakfast and head out. It¡¯s your big day."


    Freya yawned and rolled out of bed with reluctant steps. After brushing her teeth and sshing water on her face, she followed her mother to the dining room where breakfast was alreadyid out.


    As they sat down to eat, Freya kept ncing at her schoolbag on a chair nearby, clearly unsure about the new experience ahead. Eleanor noticed and smiled encouragingly.


    "Everything will be fine, sweetheart."


    Once breakfast was finished, Eleanor dressed Freya in the uniform she had carefully ironed the night before. They were about to step outside when they saw a sleek ck car parked in front of the house and Ethan leaning against it casually.


    "Daddy!" Freya shouted with joy and ran into his arms.


    Ethan picked her up in a warm embrace and said, "Let¡¯s go in my car today. I¡¯ll drop you off at your office afterward."


    Eleanor raised a brow but smiled. "Alright."


    They all climbed into the back seat together, and the car slowly pulled away, the air inside filled with excitement and a bit of anxiety.


    ***


    Outside the school, a long line of luxury cars snaked toward the front gate. Their car joined the queue, moving forward inch by inch until they reached the entrance.


    "You stay in the car. I¡¯ll take Freya to her teacher," Ethan said to Eleanor. He unbuckled both himself and Freya, then stepped out with her in his arms and her schoolbag slung over his shoulder.


    He approached a uniformed security guard standing near the gate.


    "Excuse me," Ethan said politely. "My daughter is a new transfer student in ss One. Where should we go?"


    The guard nodded and pointed toward a young woman in a red dress standing beside the guard post. "That¡¯s Miss Cooper. She¡¯s the teacher in charge of ss One."


    "Thank you," Ethan said, then walked toward her.


    Miss Cooper, noticing the tall, handsome man approaching with a child in tow, momentarily forgot to greet him. But she quickly recovered when she saw the nervous little girl in his arms.


    "Hello, Miss. My daughter is a newly transferred student for ss One. The guard asked me toe to you," Ethan said politely.


    Miss Cooper had actually been expecting the new student today. The school administration had previously sent over the documents and even reminded her yesterday.


    "You must be Freya," she said warmly. "It¡¯s so nice to meet you! Aren¡¯t you just the most adorable one?"


    Freya¡¯s anxious expression softened a little. "Hello. I¡¯m Freya Raynor."


    "I¡¯m M Cooper," she said cheerfully. "You can call me Miss Cooper."


    Turning to Ethan, she said, "Please hand me Freya¡¯s bag. I¡¯ll take over from here. You may go now, but please don¡¯t bete for pickup."


    Ethan handed over the bag. He knelt to meet Freya¡¯s eyes. "Be brave, princess. You¡¯re going to do great."


    Freya nodded hesitantly. Miss Cooper took her hand and led her toward the school building. Ethan stood watching until they disappeared through the doors before turning and walking back to the car.


    Inside the vehicle, Eleanor was watching a live surveince feed on her phone.


    "Wait... did you hack the school¡¯s camera feed?" Ethan asked, eyebrows raised.


    "I donated the entire surveince system to the school," she replied without looking up. "So, no, I didn¡¯t hack it."


    Ethan pursed his lips and shook his head with a smirk. "Of course you did."


    ***


    Inside the school, Freya was led to a ssroom where a group of 24 other children already seated at their desks. Miss Cooper led her to an empty seat in the front row. It was clear this seat had been reserved for the new student.


    "Let¡¯s take out your iPad and water bottle, and we¡¯ll hang your bag over there with the others," Miss Cooper said, pointing to a row of hooks at the front of the room.


    Freya nodded and followed instructions carefully. The teacher helped her organize everything and then opened the desk drawer to show her some paper, pencils, and books.


    After Freya had settled into her seat, Miss Cooper walked to the front of the ss and said, "Everyone, we have a new friend joining us today. Freya, would you like to introduce yourself?"


    Freya¡¯s eyes stiffened and she froze. Sensing her hesitation, Miss Cooper smiled and gave a demonstration.


    "It¡¯s easy! Like this... ¡¯Hello, everyone. I¡¯m Miss Cooper. I love teaching young, spirited boys and girls!¡¯"


    Freya stood slowly and said in a soft voice, "Hello, everyone. I¡¯m Freya Raynor. I love ying with my mommy and daddy."


    A few students giggled. Freya looked down in embarrassment, but Miss Cooper quickly jumped in, her voice cheerful and encouraging.


    "Aww, that¡¯s so sweet! It¡¯s wonderful to love your parents. Do you miss them already?"


    Freya nodded.


    Miss Cooper came beside her and said gently, "Don¡¯t worry. In just a few hours, they¡¯ll be back to pick you up. Meanwhile, we¡¯re going to have so much fun here together."


    She then returned to the front and announced, "Alright, everyone! Take out your iPads and open our ss app."


    She moved between the desks, making sure each child could find the correct icon. When she reached Freya, she gave her a little tutorial and waited for her to sessfully log in.


    She returned to the front and picked up her iPad.


    "Now, your screen will disy a random number between 1 and 25. That¡¯s your serial number for today¡¯s activity. When I call your number, you¡¯ll stand up, introduce yourself, and show us a fun talent or something you like."


    Freya nced at her screen. It shed the number 18.


    Miss Cooper smiled. "Let¡¯s begin. Number 1, it¡¯s your turn!"

 Chapter 65: You Are My Sunshine

    <h4>Chapter 65: You Are My Sunshine</h4>


    The student who received number 1 was a shy girl seated in the back row. She stood up timidly, her hands nervously gripping the hem of her skirt.


    "H-Hello. I¡¯m Chelsey Morgan. I¡¯ll recite a poem for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.


    Then, she began reciting "Halfway Down" by A. A. Milne. Despite her timid start, her soft voice carried the rhythm of the poem beautifully. When she finished, Miss Cooper started pping enthusiastically.


    The whole ss soon joined in, apuding Chelsey¡¯s effort. A small, proud smile formed on her face as she sat down.


    "Number 2, please stand up and introduce yourself," Miss Cooper announced.


    A confident boy stood up from the middle row. His smile was bright, and his energy infectious.


    "Hello, everyone! I¡¯m Klein Moretti. I¡¯ll also recite a poem for you. Mine is ¡¯Who Has Seen the Wind?¡¯ by Christina Rossetti."


    He recited the poem with a serious expression and clear enunciation, though the poem¡¯s deeper meaning was likely beyond the understanding of most six-year-olds in the room. Still, the ss pped politely, and Klein beamed as he sat back in his seat.


    Several more students followed, some reciting poems, others sharing jokes or singing short rhymes.


    Then came number 18, Freya.


    She stood up slowly, her small hands resting at her sides. Her calm, confident eyes scanned the ssroom.


    "Hello. I¡¯m Freya Raynor," she said in a clear, steady voice. "I will sing a song for you."


    She took a deep breath, and then, in her soft, melodic voice, she began to sing:


    "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..."


    Her voice rang out sweet and heartfelt, filled with emotion. There was a gentle warmth to her tone that made everyone pause, even the kids who had been fidgeting or whispering moments ago.


    On the other side of the camera feed, Eleanor sat frozen. Watching through her surveince app, she was stunned by her daughter¡¯s poise and natural charm. There was a lump in her throat, one she hadn¡¯t expected.


    In the ssroom, when Freya finished, the room erupted into apuse. Some children even cheered. Miss Cooper was genuinely impressed.


    "Freya, that was beautiful," she said. "Did you learn music at home?"


    Freya shook her head. "No. My mommy used to sing this song to me when we went to sleep. I remembered it from her."


    Miss Cooper smiled warmly. "Is your mother a singer?"


    "No," Freya replied with pride. "She¡¯s a businesswoman."


    "Well, you have a lovely voice. Thank you for sharing your song with us."


    Freya beamed and sat in her seat.


    "Next, number 19," Miss Cooper called.


    Back in the car, Eleanor was so engrossed in the live feed that she hadn¡¯t realized the vehicle had stopped moving. Ethan had quietly parked the car in the underground lot beneath the Heimdall Building.


    His car was pre-registered in thepany¡¯s security database, so the guards didn¡¯t stop it at the entrance. After parking, Ethan simply watched Eleanor, his gaze soft and full of admiration.


    She was focused,pletely absorbed in watching Freya¡¯s performance. It was rare to see her like this... unguarded, emotional, and deeply moved.


    A few minutester, Eleanor blinked and suddenly realized where they were.


    "We¡¯re here already?" she asked, looking around.


    "Yes," Ethan said with a small smile. "You were a little... distracted."


    She offered a faint smile, then stepped out of the car and headed to her private elevator. As she entered, Ethan¡¯s car exited the building.


    Exiting the elevator, Eleanor walked confidently to her office. Inside, she found Teresa and Lily seated at the conference table, waiting for her.


    "Good morning," they both greeted in unison.


    "Good morning," she replied. "Where¡¯s Maya?"


    "She was busy with the Indian projectst night," Teresa said. "She¡¯s probably still asleep."


    "She called mest night and gave me an update," Teresa continued. "The Indian side has agreed to personalpensation, but before epting our full proposal, they want more details about our investment ns in theirpanies. Maya said three out of the sevenpanies already have expansion strategies to be export-oriented, so those are basically confirmed. The remaining four are now working with our U.S. side to develop investment ns."


    She paused and added, "Maya mentioned that the total cost might exceed our initial budget, but she¡¯s confident she can close the deal within two days."


    Eleanor nodded. "Good. And the cybersecurity division? I asked you to follow up yesterday."


    Teresa replied, "They¡¯ve already formed a team for the new initiative. Today, they¡¯ll begin advertising the n on their website. By next week, they¡¯llunch a subscription model specifically for state agencies."


    "They better be ready for what¡¯sing," Eleanor said firmly. "Lily?"


    Lily smiled as she opened her notes. "Things are going smoothly on my end. The Nigerian government has agreed to most of our terms after hearing that we n to invest 100 million dors and begin production within six months. Aisha has arrived and taken charge. Our legal team is finalizing contracts with the Nigerian government."


    She added, "Aisha brought three members from her Space Project team and selected two from our legal department. The five of them will be traveling to Nigeria together. They¡¯re receiving their visas and all necessary permissions today... at least, that¡¯s what the Nigerian officials confirmed."


    Eleanor nodded and pointed to the pile of folders on her desk.


    "You were waiting for my signatures on these?"


    Both assistants responded simultaneously, "Yes."


    Eleanor sat down and opened the folders one by one. She read each document carefully, asionally asking detailed questions, and signed off after reviewing everything.


    A whileter, both Teresa and Lily left the office, leaving Eleanor alone.


    She picked up her phone and dialed a number.


    "Grandma?"


    "Hello, darling," Fiona¡¯s voice came through warmly.


    "My team is heading to Nigeria to establish a new factory," Eleanor began. "And I¡¯m about to acquire sevenpanies in India. Can you suggest any security measures?"


    Fiona paused for a moment before responding. "Nigeria doesn¡¯t have any dominant werewolf ns. Thatnd is traditionally upied by Werehyenas. Several ns are spread across Africa, but the Bultungin n is the most powerful in Nigeria. If you gain their support, no other supernatural entity will bother you."


    "I read that they live in Kabultiloa, near Lake Chad," Eleanor said. "And that they¡¯re so violent, other supernatural groups avoid the region entirely."


    Fiona chuckled softly. "You¡¯re both right and wrong. They can be bloodthirsty, yes... but only if you antagonize them. Normally, they¡¯re peaceful and work well with the local people. They dominate the area politically and supernaturally. I rmend meeting the n head. He¡¯s a good man. Ask Dominic nc to arrange a meeting... he has connections with them."


    "Understood, Grandma. Thank you."


    Fiona continued, "As for India, you should know the Harivamsa n serves as the Priest n on the Council. They mostly live in their pocket dimension but wield a strong influence in that region. You should meet the Matriarch... she¡¯s a great leader and an old friend of mine. She¡¯ll guide you. Let me know when you n to visit, and I¡¯ll arrange the meeting. And bring her a respectful gift."


    "Got it. Thanks again," Eleanor said.


    "And Freya?" Fiona asked. "She started school today, didn¡¯t she?"


    "Yes. I¡¯ll pick her up at 3:30 PM. If you¡¯re free, you should stop by. She¡¯d love to see you."


    "I¡¯ll see what I can do," Fiona said fondly. "Take care, dear."

 Chapter 66: Dominic Blanc

    <h4>Chapter 66: Dominic nc</h4>


    After ending the call with Fiona, Eleanor leaned back in her chair, letting her thoughts wander toward the journeys thaty ahead. Both Nigeria and India awaited her attention... two vastly different regions, yet equally crucial for her expanding empire.


    "This might actually work in my favor," she mused silently, tapping a finger on the table. "As the future leader of the Raynor n, it¡¯s essential that I start mingling with other ns and supernatural forces early on. Business cooperation is a perfect avenue to forge strong, mutually beneficial rtionships."


    Without wasting time, she picked up her phone and dialed Dominic nc.


    "Hello, Grandpa. How¡¯s your health today?" she asked warmly.


    "Eleanor! I¡¯m doing fine, thank you. What can I help you with?" Dominic replied in his usualposed voice.


    "Oh! You sound busy, so I won¡¯t waste your time. I need a favor," she said, then added, "Grandma told me you have some connections with the Bultungin n. I need to meet their n Head as soon as possible. Could you help arrange that?"


    "Werehyenas?" he eximed in mild surprise. "Why do you want to meet them?"


    "I¡¯m about to establish a private economic zone in Nigeria. Grandma suggested I seek their protection for supernatural security. Plus, it¡¯s an opportunity to build diplomatic ties early. It¡¯ll be useful in the long run," Eleanor exined.


    "Well, if your n head has already endorsed this, I won¡¯t question it," he said after a pause. "Give me five minutes. I¡¯ll make a call and get back to you."


    He ended the call without another word. Eleanor hadn¡¯t even lowered her phone before it buzzed again, this time with a notification from the dar website that had once posted a kill order for her.


    She narrowed her eyes. That incident still hadn¡¯t been resolved.


    "I was nning to visit Russia to deal with this in person," she muttered, opening her handbag to retrieve her Bittium mobile, "but the pile of work in the office never gave me the time."


    She powered on the secure device and quickly navigated throughyers of encryption until a secure shell loaded the dar interface. Using admin-level ess provided by hacker ZeroWarden, she entered the system.


    The page loaded her previous kill order. It had been updated.


    A new group had epted the contract. There was also a note... "Previous team failed and disappeared."


    Eleanor tracked the new group¡¯s digital footprint. Though they used a US-based proxywork, the original IP address traced back to Haarlem, Nethends. That alone was enough for her to deduce their n.


    "They¡¯ll likely cross the North Sea by speedboat. Airports are off-limits for this type of operation," she calcted silently. "Depending on the weather and where theynd, it¡¯ll take five to seven hours to cross, then four to five more by road to reach Manchester. Even with local support, they won¡¯t be here in less than thirteen hours."


    She leaned back again, sighing. "That means I¡¯m safe for today... and maybe even tomorrow. I should expect them by tomorrow night at the earliest."


    Her thoughts were interrupted by another call from Dominic nc again.


    "Eleanor," his calm voice spoke, "I managed to get through to one of the Bultungin n¡¯s main members. Fortunately, he was near their n Head. They¡¯ve agreed to meet you in five days. You¡¯ll be picked up directly from Maiduguri International Airport. I¡¯ll send you their contact number... just let them know your flight details."


    "Thank you so much, Grandpa," Eleanor said gratefully.


    "No need to thank me. But remember... be careful there. This is not your usual yground. Ask your Matriarch to dispatch the best security team for you. And whatever you do, don¡¯t antagonize them," he warned sternly.


    "I understand. I¡¯ll be respectful," she promised.


    "Oh, and don¡¯t forget a gift for the old man. He has a taste for vintage wine. Bring something special... if he likes you, you won¡¯t face any problems in the future," Dominic added, then hung up.


    Just as she ced the phone down, her shadow guard, Isadora nc, materialized in the room as silently as a breeze.


    "Ma¡¯am, Ophelia is currently in London, following up on the trail you assigned her. She¡¯s encountered something and would like to speak with you. Is this a good time?" Isadora asked respectfully.


    "Yes, you can call her now," Eleanor replied.


    Isadora handed over her phone. "She¡¯s on the line."


    "Hello?" Eleanor said into the receiver.


    "Ma¡¯am," Ophelia¡¯s voice came through, calm yet alert. "Last night I went to search for clues about Kelly Wilson¡¯s background. I found two old photos in her personal shelf. I took pictures of them and sent them to the US IT team. They confirmed that the photos are authentic and that Kelly is indeed in both of them. One is a group photo of several girls with a priest, taken at St. Margaret¡¯s School in Bushey, Hertfordshire. The other is a mixed group photo with boys and girls from the London School of Economics."


    Eleanor¡¯s brows lifted slightly, "I guessed she has a past to hide."


    Ophelia said, "They also identified the priest in the photo as the Right Reverend Hannah Cranfield. This morning, I went to the school and searched their database. Rev. Cranfield did, in fact, serve as a director at St. Margaret¡¯s School. Sheter became the Bishop of Portsmouth and a powerful figure in the Church of Ennd. I believe Kelly¡¯s church connection is through Hannah Cranfield."


    Ophelia continued, "The IT team from the US confirmed the photos¡¯ authenticity. However, I couldn¡¯t find anyone named Kelly Wilson in the school¡¯s database during Cranfield¡¯s tenure. I believe she changed her name in her Ghanaian Passport."


    "That¡¯s very possible," Eleanor agreed.


    "I¡¯ll need to contact some former staff from that school to dig deeper. I n to buy information, but I¡¯m short on funds... and we didn¡¯t receive any instruction on expenses, so I held off," Ophelia admitted.


    Eleanor chuckled softly. "I overlooked that. I¡¯m used to Teresa managing all operational logistics. No worries... I¡¯ll send funds."


    She reached into her handbag again and pulled out a bank card.


    "Isadora, here." She handed the card to her. "There¡¯s one million US Dors on this card. Give it to Sebastian and treat it as themon fund. Make sure everyone knows they can reach me directly if needed."


    "Yes, Ma¡¯am," Isadora said, then bowed slightly and vanished as swiftly as she came.

 Chapter 67: Duck, Duck, Goose

    <h4>Chapter 67: Duck, Duck, Goose</h4> The sun shone brightly overhead, casting a golden hue across the school field where the children were gathered. It was time for Freya¡¯s outdoor ss. Miss Cooper had momentarily stepped away to rest in the teachers¡¯ room, leaving Mr. Ves Larkinson in charge of supervising the students during this yful session.


    Mr. Larkinson stood nearby with a warm smile, his hands loosely folded behind his back as he watched the children sit in a wide circle on the grass. Today¡¯s game was Duck, Duck, Goose, and the excitement among the little ones was palpable.


    "Alright, everyone, let¡¯s begin!" Mr. Larkinson announced cheerfully. "Damien Quinn will be the first ¡¯farmer¡¯. Let¡¯s show him how it¡¯s done."


    Damien, a lively boy with sandy blonde hair, stood up with a grin and began walking around the circle. As instructed, he gently tapped each child¡¯s head and said, "Duck... duck... duck..." He made it around the entire circle but forgot to pick a "goose."


    The children looked confused, and Mr. Larkinson chuckled. "Damien, don¡¯t forget! You have to pick someone as the ¡¯goose¡¯, and then you run!"


    Realizing his mistake, Damien nodded earnestly and tried again. This time, after tapping a few heads, he suddenly shouted, "Goose!", choosing Zachary Han.


    Zachary blinked in surprise, momentarily frozen in ce. Damien had already darted around the circle at full speed. With a little encouragement from Mr. Larkinson, Zachary jumped to his feet and chased Damien with all his might. But Damien was too quick and managed to sit down in Zachary¡¯s spot just in time.


    Now it was Zachary¡¯s turn to be the farmer. Giggling, he began his circle. "Duck... duck... duck..." Then, with a yful shout, he chose Jane Austen as the goose. Jane¡¯s reflexes were sharp. She sprang up instantly and chased after Zachary. Before he could reach her seat, she tagged him on the back.


    Zachary sighed dramatically and remained the farmer. The next round, he chose Jason Reed as the goose. He picked up speed, racing with determination. This time, he made it to Jason¡¯s seat first, making Jason the new farmer.


    By now, everyone had gotten the hang of the game. Laughter and squeals of joy filled the field.


    Jason circled the group and suddenly tapped Klein Moretti, calling "Goose!" Klein jumped up and chased Jason, but Jason managed to plop down in Klein¡¯s ce just in time.


    Klein was next. He started walking, tapping heads and calling "duck" until he stopped in front of Freya and shouted, "Goose!"


    Freya, momentarily surprised, reacted a bitte. But she was fast... much faster than Klein expected. As she gained on him, Klein panicked and stumbled. With a yelp, he tripped over his own feet and fell to the ground.


    Freya gasped and quickly leaned over him. "I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t touch you! Did it hurt?"


    Mr. Larkinson immediately rushed over and gently helped Klein to his feet. "Let¡¯s take a look," he said, his tone calm and kind. He checked Klein for any injuries and, finding none, asked, "Does anything hurt?"


    "It hurt a little when I fell, but now it¡¯s okay," Klein sniffled.


    "Then why were you crying?" Mr. Larkinson asked gently.


    Klein wiped his face and mumbled, "Because I lost to Freya..."


    Mr. Larkinson smiled kindly. "This game isn¡¯t about winning or losing. It¡¯s about having fun with your friends and learning to y together."


    Klein looked up at him with wide eyes. "Really?"


    "Yes, really. So, don¡¯t cry. Just enjoy the game."


    "Okay," Klein nodded. "I won¡¯t cry anymore."


    Mr. Larkinson pped his hands and addressed the ss. "Alright, kids. Remember to run safely... no rushing too fast. We don¡¯t want anyone else falling. Freya, please return to your ce. Now, who wants to take Klein¡¯s ce as the farmer?"


    "I do!" Irene Winters called out, raising her hand.


    "Great!" Mr. Larkinson smiled. "Klein, switch ces with Irene."


    The game continued with cheerful energy. Irene became the new farmer and quickly picked Tamara as the goose. Laughter erupted as Tamara chased Irene around the circle. The game went on until the lunch bell rang, and the children were led inside for their meal.


    The children were brought into a cozy dining room with arge table surrounded by 25 chairs. Each student found their seat and sat down in anticipation.


    Miss Cooper returned to supervise the lunchtime routine.


    "Students," she began, "ording to the information your parents provided, none of you have any food allergies. However, if you need nut-free, dairy-free, or gluten-free meals, please raise your hand now."


    No hands went up.


    "Very well," she continued. "Today¡¯s lunch includes macaroni and cheese with broli and sweetcorn, a mixed sd with lettuce, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, and grated carrot, a cup of semi-skimmed milk, and an apple. Please check your tray. If anything is missing, raise your hand."


    Again, no hands were raised.


    "The meals have been carefully prepared by our nutritionist," she exined. "You¡¯re expected to finish everything on your te. You¡¯ll have thirty minutes for lunch. If you finish early, you may go back to your desk and rest."


    The students began eating. The food was warm, fresh, and surprisingly tasty for a school meal. The macaroni cheese was creamy, and the sd was crisp and colorful. The children munched happily, chatting quietly among themselves. One by one, they finished their meals and made their way back to the ssroom.


    Back in the ssroom, the students took their seats as Miss Cooper prepared them for their post-lunch quiet time.


    "This is your thirty-minute rest period," she said softly. "I¡¯ll draw the curtains and dim the lights. You must stay in your seat. If you need to use the toilet, do so quietly. You may rest your head on your desk. Please don¡¯t disturb anyone."


    She pressed a switch, and the thick curtains slid into ce, darkening the room. Only a soft light remained on over Miss Cooper¡¯s desk.


    Most students, ustomed to this routine,id their heads down without fuss. Freya looked around, then copied them. She crossed her arms on her desk and rested her head. Her thoughts wandered to home. She missed her room, her toys, and the warmth of her mother. But despite that longing, she felt proud of herself... she had made it through her first morning at school.


    After quiet time, a new teacher entered the room.


    "Good afternoon, everyone. I¡¯m Ms. Odessa Devereux, yournguage teacher. You can call me Ms. Dev," she introduced herself with a warm smile. "Today, we¡¯ll work on Phonics Reinforcement. That means we¡¯ll learn how letters and sounds work together. But don¡¯t worry... we¡¯ll do it with fun stories!"


    She pped her hands gently. "Let¡¯s begin with a little story. Repeat after me."


    She recited clearly, "A fish went on a trip. He got in a ship. The ship went swish. Then a ssh! The fish got wet!"


    She repeated the story, emphasizing each sound, then invited the students to try.


    Zachary was called first. He stumbled through a few lines, but Ms. Dev patiently corrected him. Then she turned to Freya.


    Freya repeated the story wlessly on her first attempt.


    "Excellent, Freya! Well done!" the teacher praised. Freya beamed with pride.


    ***


    Meanwhile, Eleanor stepped out of the elevator, ready to pick up Freya. She was surprised to find Ethan¡¯s car already waiting.


    Ethan¡¯s driver opened the door for her. Ethan, seated inside, looked up from hisptop and smiled.


    "Hop in. I thought it would be nice if Freya saw both of us pick her up from school together."


    Eleanor rolled her eyes but got into the car. "Fine. But I¡¯m only here for Freya."


    The car headed toward the school.


    ***


    At dismissal, Freya walked hand-in-hand with Miss Cooper to the gate. Her eyes lit up as she spotted her father waiting just beyond the fence.


    "Daddy!" she squealed and ran forward,unching herself into Ethan¡¯s arms.


    He caught her easily and gave her a tight hug.


    Together, they walked over to Miss Cooper to collect Freya¡¯s schoolbag. Ethan thanked the teacher politely and turned to head to the car.


    Inside the vehicle, Eleanor was waiting. As soon as Freya climbed in and saw her mother, her face lit up again.


    "Mommy! ssmates are childish. But we had so much fun!"


    As the car pulled away from the school, Freya continued chatting animatedly, recounting every little detail of her day with sparkling enthusiasm.

 Chapter 68: Kelly Wilson

    <h4>Chapter 68: Kelly Wilson</h4>


    Eleanor woke early, the faint glow of dawn seeping through the heavy curtains of her bedroom. Her senses stirred before her body fully did, and she instinctively reached out with her aura, brushing against a familiar presence lingering just outside the door.


    "Ophelia," she thought, instantly alert. "She must havee to report her investigation results. I can¡¯t let her wait too long. Freya is still asleep... I¡¯ll have to step out quietly."


    Eleanor slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. After a quick wash, she changed out of her soft sleepwear into a simple, elegant loungewear set. She moved with practiced grace as she stepped outside her room, carefully closing the door behind her so Freya wouldn¡¯t stir.


    As she turned, she found Ophelia standing silently, almost like a shadow in the hallway.


    "I suppose you¡¯ve brought something interesting, since you couldn¡¯t wait for me to be avable to hear your report," Eleanor said softly.


    Ophelia gave a quick nod, her eyes sharp and serious. "Yes, Ma¡¯am. I¡¯ve uncovered a very big secret."


    Just as she began to speak, Eleanor raised a hand. "Let¡¯s go to the study. I¡¯d rather hear this in private."


    "Of course." Ophelia followed her without question.


    Inside the study, Eleanor took her seat at the head of the polished wooden desk and motioned for Ophelia to sit across from her. The room was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on the far wall.


    "Alright," Eleanor said, folding her hands. "You may begin."


    Ophelia straightened her posture, her voice calm and measured. "I won¡¯t get into the full process I used to gather this information... it would take too long. But what I¡¯ve found about Kelly Wilson is a very deep story. I retrieved details from St. Margaret¡¯s School, the London School of Economics, and Holy Trinity Cathedral in ra, Ghana."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow in interest but didn¡¯t interrupt.


    "Kelly Wilson¡¯s real name is Joan Kelly Osborne," Ophelia began. "Her father, Jack Osborne, was a Commander in the Royal Ulster Constabry. One Sunday, the Osborne family... including Joan¡¯s mother, Katherine Wilson, went to a local church service, which was attacked by the Irish Republican Army. Everyone of Osborne family died in that incident... except Joan. She had stayed home that day because she was sick."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "So, she was really an orphan."


    Ophelia nodded. "Yes. After the attack, the Right Reverend Hannah Cranfield visited the church and learned about Joan¡¯s situation. At the time, Joan was under the care of a local clergyman. Moved by her story, Hannah Cranfield brought her to Ennd and enrolled her as a resident student at St. Margaret¡¯s School, which was supported by the Church. Joan thrived there and eventually received a fully funded schrship to the London School of Economics, where she began a degree in Financial Mathematics and Statistics."


    Eleanor leaned forward slightly, intrigued.


    "At LSE, Joan met one of her ssmates... Anthony Hayward Chapman, and the two fell in love. During their final year, Anthony¡¯s father, Baron Hayward John Chapman of Bethnal Green, who was a Minister in the House of Lords at the time, arranged a political marriage for his son. Anthony refused, informing his father about his rtionship with Joan and rejecting the arranged marriage."


    Ophelia paused and looked Eleanor in the eye. "That¡¯s when Joan¡¯s problems began. Baron Hayward sent his men to threaten her. He demanded she break things off with Anthony."


    "Let me guess," Eleanor said. "She panicked and eloped."


    "Yes. Fearing for her life, Joan turned to the only person she trusted...Hannah Cranfield, who then became a powerful figure as the Bishop of Portsmouth. While staying at the Bishop¡¯s residence, Joan discovered she was pregnant. In order to protect her and the baby, Bishop Cranfield sent her to Ghana, under a false identity, as part of a religious exchange delegation."


    Ophelia continued, "My cousin in Ghana confirmed that the Diocesan Bishop of ra personally handled her situation back then. Joan was issued a Ghanaian passport under the name Kelly Wilson, and within a week, she was quietly sent back to the United Kingdom."


    Eleanor¡¯s lips tightened. "So, she adopted her mother¡¯s surname and took on a new identity. To erase all traces, the Church helped her obtain citizenship again within a year."


    "Exactly," Ophelia confirmed. "She reinvented herselfpletely... became Kelly Wilson. And when her daughter was born, she named her June Osborne, returning to her father¡¯s surname as a tribute."


    She paused for emphasis, then added, "By the way, Jack Osborne was posthumously awarded both the Queen¡¯s Gantry Medal and the Queen¡¯s Police Medal. As for the story about June being named after the first female Dean of a cathedral... that was likely a cover to hide her true origin."


    Eleanor slowly leaned back in her chair, absorbing the information.


    "But that¡¯s not the most interesting part," Ophelia said, a small spark of excitement in her voice. "What I couldn¡¯t wait to tell you is the story of June Osborne¡¯s father."


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze sharpened.


    "After Joan¡¯s sudden disappearance, Anthony searched for her relentlessly. He even involved their LSE ssmates in the search. But she had vanishedpletely. Anthony began to believe his father had something to do with her disappearance... possibly even her death."


    Ophelia¡¯s voice softened slightly. "Almost everyone believed the same. Baron Hayward had both the means and the influence to make someone disappear. After nearly a year without a trace, Anthony finally sumbed to pressure and married the minister¡¯s daughter his father had chosen. But the marriage was unhappy, and after five years, his wife died of cancer. Anthony never remarried. He has no known children."


    A long silence stretched between them.


    Eleanor spoke finally, her tone careful. "Go on."


    Ophelia said excitedly, "The current Co-Chairman of the opposition party... is Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman of Bethnal Green. The same party as Mayor Grant and Edward Langford. And right now, only we know that the supposedly childless Baron actually has a daughter. A daughter who can inherit his title and even political legacy."


    The silence that followed was deafening.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t respond right away. Her thoughts raced, calcting the implications.


    Finally, she exhaled slowly and said, "Great work, Ophelia. You¡¯ve solved a major headache for me. And keep this information between us. I will use this information at the right time."


    She stood, smoothing out the sleeves of her dress. "Take the rest of the day off. I already know what I¡¯ll do next."

 Chapter 69: The Clip-On Earrings

    <h4>Chapter 69: The Clip-On Earrings</h4>


    After a few minutes of contemtion, Eleanor finalized the outline of her next move. However, a pressing concern continued to linger in the back of her mind... the assassin team. There was a possibility that they mighte for her today.


    After thinking it through once more, she raised her voice slightly, "I need Sebastian here."


    She didn¡¯t need to yell. She knew at least one member of her Shadow Guard was always stationed nearby, watching her silently from the shadows.


    Sure enough, only a few seconds passed before Sebastian materialized in front of her like a ghost stepping through reality.


    "Ma¡¯am," he said, bowing his head respectfully.


    "Another group of assassins has taken the job the previous party failed toplete," Eleanor said. "I suspect they might strike tonight. I want everyone around me monitored... closely."


    Sebastian nodded but remained silent as she continued.


    "There¡¯s aplication," she added, rising from her chair and walking to the window. "Tonight is the annual dinner of GMITCC. Many people from the businessmunity will be present. While they themselves won¡¯t pose any threat, the location is a concern. The venue is Manchester Central Convention Complex, and it will be closed to the public today."


    Turning back to face him, she continued, "If the assassins choose to attack me there, the easiest way would be by disguising themselves as hotel staff. That part worries me. I don¡¯t want to show my abilities to the general public. But it¡¯s also our opportunity. The staff won¡¯t be carrying weapons, and that makes it easier for us to detect threats. With your abilities, you should be able to identify impostors and take them down before they make a move."


    She moved to her desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. From it, she took out a small ck case and ced it carefully on the tabletop. With a soft click, she unlocked it and opened the lid, revealing several glimmering essories inside.


    "I¡¯ve prepared these for your team," she said. "You have four men and two women under yourmand, correct?"


    Sebastian nodded.


    "Then here," she said, picking out the contents. "Four pairs of tinum clip-on earrings for the men, and two pairs of diamond-studded ones for the women. Don¡¯t worry... no need to pierce your ears. These are all clip-ons. They¡¯re equipped with an intelligent AImunication unit embedded inside. Hold them near your ear, and the clip will adjust automatically to fitfortably."


    Sebastian leaned closer, intrigued.


    "To activate," she continued, "just tap once while wearing them. Tap twice to turn them off. This technology is one of ourpany¡¯stest military-grade inventions. Later, I customized them specifically for werewolf operatives like you."


    She picked up one of the earrings and demonstrated how to attach it. Sebastian, watching closely, followed her lead and clipped one onto his own ear.


    "The AI inside will automatically adjust its frequency, sound output, and microphone sensitivity depending on your form," Eleanor exined. "Even during werewolf transformation, the device will reposition itself to match your altered ear anatomy. No loss of connection... no interruptions."


    Sebastian¡¯s eyes lit up with excitement. "That¡¯s... incredible."


    "There¡¯s more," she said with a smile. "These devices are powered by your own body... through kic energy and your heartbeat. So, no need to recharge them. The effective range is over one mile. Within that radius, you¡¯ll stay connected with your entire team."


    She tilted her head. "Can you hear me clearly through your earpiece?"


    "Yes," Sebastian said, his voice slightly echoing with the crisp rity of the AI transmission. "But how is the sound being transferred from the earring?"


    "Through bone conduction," Eleanor replied. "The sound travels through your skin and skull bones, leaving your ears open to ambient sound. And when you speak, even a minimal sound is enough to transmit clearly."


    Curious, Sebastian shifted into his werewolf form. Eleanor watched with satisfaction as the earring adjusted itself instantly, fitting securely to the new shape of his ear. After a few seconds, he returned to his human form.


    He ced his right hand over his chest and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Ma¡¯am. This is a remarkable gift."


    Eleanor chuckled softly. "This isn¡¯t a gift, Sebastian. It¡¯s a tool. A piece of equipment to help you perform your duty more efficiently. So, don¡¯t thank me... just don¡¯t lose it."


    She became serious again. "This item isn¡¯t avable on the market. If you¡¯re ever in danger of being captured or think you might lose it, tap it three times. It will self-destruct and immediately send me your location. I¡¯lle to aid you."


    She reached into the case once more and pulled out another pair. "Oh, and I¡¯ll be wearing a pair too. That way, I can stay connected with your channel during missions."


    She showed him a set with a small purple gem on the side. "If you see me wearing this one, expect that I¡¯m already listening or may join the conversation."


    Finally, she stood up. "Now, I need to drop Freya off at school. Be ready for this evening."


    With that, Eleanor left the study and headed upstairs to wake her daughter.


    Downstairs, the mother and daughter duo were greeted by a familiar presence... Ethan. He was already seated at the dining table, sipping coffee. Freya¡¯s face lit up when she saw him.


    "Daddy!" she squealed, running into his arms.


    After breakfast, the three of them got ready and left for HMIS. At the school gate, Ethan handed Freya over to Miss Cooper like the previous day. The little girl was overjoyed to find several of her ssmates already waiting and immediately began chatting animatedly with them.


    Later, when Eleanor arrived at her office, Teresa met her with a curious smile.


    "Boss, another walk-in candidate waiting downstairs," she said.


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow.


    "Her name is June Osborne," Teresa continued. "She came for a walk-in interview. When she mentioned your name at the front desk, they called me. I sent her to the waiting area."


    "Interesting timing," Eleanor murmured.


    After reviewing thetest reports from Maya, Teresa, and Lily, Eleanor decided to go ahead with the interview.


    As her assistants began to rise from their seats, she stopped them. "Stay. I want you all to observe this interview."


    They nodded and returned to their chairs, adjusting their positions to face the neer.


    A couple of minutester, there was a soft knock at the door.


    "May Ie in, sir?" said a nervous voice from behind the door.


    "Come in," Eleanor answered calmly.


    The door creaked open, and June stepped inside. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw four women already seated in the room. She hesitated, then corrected herself quickly.


    "Sorry... Ma¡¯am."


    Eleanor pointed toward an empty seat across from her. "Please, have a seat."


    "Thank you," June said, sitting down stiffly. She passed her CV across the table. "Ma¡¯am, I am June Osborne. This is my CV. I know you once told me toe find you... but I didn¡¯t really believe you would give me a job so casually. But yesterday, one of your staff visited our home and asked my mother to send me for an interview. So, here I am."


    Eleanor took the document but kept her eyes on the girl. "Then tell me... what kind of job are you hoping to find here?"

 Chapter 70: An Interesting Recruitment

    <h4>Chapter 70: An Interesting Recruitment</h4>


    Facing such a direct question, June hesitated for a moment, then said carefully, "I have a BSc degree in International Business, Finance, and Economics from the University of Manchester. I¡¯m currently pursuing an MSc in Business Analysis and Strategic Management. From an academic standpoint, I¡¯m qualified to work in the finance or nning departments. However, since I¡¯m still studying, I can only work part-time. Unfortunately, most of those departments don¡¯t typically hire part-timers."


    She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "I do have extensive experience in retail and event management from various part-time jobs, but I¡¯m not sure whether Heimdall even has those departments. ording to the website, Heimdall is an ITpany. I went through the website thoroughly, but I couldn¡¯t quite figure out what thepany actually does. I assumed Heimdall was a typical tech startup... until I came here and saw this towering building fully upied by just onepany with hundreds of employees. Now, I¡¯m honestly unsure what departments you have or where I might fit in. But I¡¯m open to learning new things... as long as it doesn¡¯t interfere with my studies."


    Her voice was sincere, and she kept her posture straight, despite the anxiety shing behind her eyes. Eleanor remained silent for a few moments, studying her.


    Then, finally, Eleanor said, "I like your honesty. Since you lost your previous job because of me, I¡¯m offering you two options. First, I canpensate you with the same amount of money you would have earned from Louis Vuitton until you finish your education. You won¡¯t need to work. Juste here on the first day of every month, and the front desk will hand you your money."


    She paused to let that sink in, then continued, "Second, you can join Heimdall as a part-time employee. As for your department... we¡¯ll decide that after you make your choice. But consider this part-time position as your training period. Once you finish your MSc, you¡¯ll transition into a full-time employee and be required to work here for at least two years, unless we decide otherwise. You¡¯ll sign an employment contract ording to our rules. For your information, Heimdall pays some of the mostpetitive sries in the Kingdom."


    June sat in silence, visibly weighing her options. Her fingers curled slightly in herp. Then she looked up and asked carefully, "How much would I earn as a part-timer here? Please don¡¯t take it the wrong way... my family¡¯s financial situation isn¡¯t good. I need to consider the money."


    Eleanor didn¡¯t seem surprised. Instead, she calmly handed June¡¯s CV to Lily and said, "Based on her education and qualifications, how much would we pay her after her MSc if she were to start as a new employee?"


    Lily reviewed the CV and responded after a thoughtful pause. "She qualifies for a Management Trainee role in Strategy and Operations. Following six months of mandatory training, her department would be decided based on performance. During training, the base sry would be ¡ê48,000 annually. Bonuses and other benefits would be added based on her performance."


    She passed the CV back to Eleanor.


    Eleanor turned to June. "You¡¯ll receive that same sry... on a pro-rated basis during your part-time employment. But afterpleting your education, you¡¯ll have to go through the official Management Trainee program full-time for six months. Then your permanent department will be assigned, and the two-year employment contract willmence."


    June nodded slowly. "And after the two years, if I want to leave, can I join anotherpany?"


    "Of course," Eleanor said with a smile. "After two years, the contract ends. You¡¯ll be free to make your own choices. But if you intentionally harm thepany¡¯s interests or quit before the contract ends, a penalty will apply as per our standard practice."


    June finally smiled. "Then I¡¯d like to work here. Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t ck off or cause trouble. I just need my working hours to align with my ss schedule and exams. I don¡¯t want to jeopardize my education."


    "You¡¯re hired," Eleanor said simply. Then she turned and gestured toward Lily. "As for your schedule, you¡¯ll need to coordinate with this youngdy."


    "This is Lily O¡¯Sullivan," she added. "From today onward, she¡¯s your boss. Whatever you need, you¡¯ll go through her."


    June stood up and respectfully turned to Lily. "Hello, Ma¡¯am. I¡¯m June Osborne. Please call me June. I¡¯ll need to align my work schedule with my MSc sses, but only for four months. After that, I¡¯ll follow the full-time employee guidelines."


    Then, with a hesitant look, she added quietly, "I know I probably shouldn¡¯t ask this, but I want to be honest. In my previous jobs, especially in retail, we had uniforms, so I never needed formal office attire. But I noticed that your employees dress in their own formal clothes. I don¡¯t have any appropriate office clothes right now. Would it be possible to get an advance from my first month¡¯s sry... just enough to buy a few proper outfits?"


    Lily nced at Eleanor, unsure how to respond. Eleanor gave a subtle nod and mouthed, "Give her one month¡¯s sry."


    June, too nervous to notice the exchange, kept her eyes low.


    Lily said calmly, "Alright. I¡¯ll authorize one month¡¯s sry as an advance. It will be adjusted over the next four months. As for your schedule, send me your ss and exam timetable. I¡¯ll take a look and we¡¯ll work something out."


    She took June¡¯s CV again, jotted "MT¨C St & Ops" at the top, signed the corner, and handed it back.


    "Go to the sixth floor," Lily instructed. "Hand your CV to the reception. They¡¯ll take care of the onboarding procedures."


    June epted the paper, looking stunned. She stood up slowly, bowed her head respectfully, and softly said, "Thank you, everyone."


    Then she walked toward the door. Her steps were slow, her mind clearly racing as if she couldn¡¯t believe what had just happened. She had walked in unsure if she¡¯d even be considered... and walked out with a job.


    As the door closed behind her, the room fell into a brief silence.

 Chapter 71: A Leader without Ambition

    <h4>Chapter 71: A Leader without Ambition</h4>


    Lily was the first to break the silence in the room. "Her academic results are good. But she has mostly worked in retail. Boss, you seemed unusually eager to recruit her. Why?"


    Eleanor leaned back slightly in her chair and replied calmly, "She was a salesgirl at Louis Vuitton just a few days ago. During her time there, she received several sales awards. But she lost her job because she stood up for me against a spoiled rich girl."


    "She stood up for you?" Teresa raised an eyebrow in curiosity.


    Eleanor nodded. "Yes. That rich girl didn¡¯t take that small episode lightly. She not only got her fired but also cklisted her from other retail stores in the city. Luckily, I saw her washing cars at the gas station. After that, I looked into her background."


    She paused before continuing, "I discovered her educational qualifications were solid. But her family situation was bad enough that she had to earn cash by washing cars. That¡¯s when I decided to send someone to her home and invite her here."


    "If she proves herself capable, you can make her your assistant," she added, ncing at Lily.


    Teresa gave a short chuckle. "So... this is your version of humanitarian recruitment."


    "You could say that," Eleanor said without emotion. "Lily, call the recruitment office and have her sign all the necessary paperwork today. Also, make sure they provide her an advance on her sry."


    "Understood, Boss," Lily replied. She took out her phone and typed a detailed message, sending it promptly to the HR department.


    Once that was done, Eleanor looked up. "You may go now. Teresa, is Juliette at her office?"


    "Yes," Teresa replied. "She came in early today."


    "Good. Send her to my office."


    "Right away." Teresa stood and left the room with Lily and Maya.


    As the door closed behind them, Eleanor opened herptop. Her fingers moved swiftly as she began reviewing and clearing her pending files. A few minutester, there was a soft knock at the door.


    "Come in," she said without looking up.


    Juliette stepped inside and bowed politely. "Good morning, Boss."


    "Good morning," Eleanor responded, gesturing to the seat in front of her desk. "Please, sit."


    Juliette obeyed, crossing her legs as she settled in.


    Eleanor closed herptop and fixed her gaze on her advisor. "What¡¯s the progress on selecting a candidate for Prime Minister?"


    Juliette sighed. "Sebastian provided a list of party officials linked to the Stockport case. Nearly half of the upper echelon is involved. That makes it difficult to choose from the remaining top leadership. I¡¯ve started shortlisting a few potential candidates and investigating their backgrounds. At the very least, we need someone clean to represent your interests."


    "You don¡¯t need to search anymore," Eleanor said. "I already have someone in mind."


    Juliette¡¯s eyes brightened with interest. "Who?"


    "Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman of Bethnal Green."


    Juliette frowned slightly. "He¡¯s a good man, no doubt about that. But I¡¯m afraid he won¡¯t ept the offer."


    "Why not?" Eleanor asked, her voice was calm.


    Juliette leaned forward. "Back when his party had a majority, he was offered the position of Chancellor of the Exchequer. He turned it down. The man has no political ambition. He¡¯s currently the party¡¯s co-chairman only because of his moral integrity and histe father¡¯s legacy."


    She continued, "After his wife¡¯s untimely death, he distanced himself from the material world. He spends most of his time doing humanitarian work and volunteering at church. Within the party, people see him as a symbolic figure... an untarnished face to present to the public."


    Eleanor¡¯s lips curled into a faint smile. "That¡¯s exactly why he¡¯s perfect. His clean image will make him eptable to the public, and we can use the corruption files to pressure the other party leaders into supporting him as the next PM candidate."


    Juliette hesitated. "Even so, we can¡¯t force someone who has no interest in the position. He has to ept it willingly."


    "Leave that part to me," Eleanor said confidently. "All I need is one meeting with him to present my proposal. I¡¯ll convince him."


    Juliette blinked. "You think you can persuade a man like him that easily?"


    "I¡¯ll take care of it," Eleanor said again. "What I need from you is a foolproof n. I¡¯m going to London to meet Baron Chapman. Once I secure his support, I need you to lead the operation here while I work on the lords."


    Eleanor stood up and walked toward the window, speaking as she gazed at the skyline. "The Shadow Team will break into the vault of Stockport MP Oliver Brown and collect all incriminating evidence... cash, offshore documents, illegal transfers and valuables. Only the documents and a sufficient amount of money that canpletely destroy him will be left in the vault."


    She turned back to Juliette. "Once the files are in our hands, my team will approach the party leaders one by one. Those who agree to support Baron Chapman will be spared. Those who resist... we¡¯ll send the documents to the authorities."


    "And even if they agree," she added, "we¡¯ll still have leverage over them in the future. They¡¯ll have no choice but to stay loyal."


    Juliette folded her arms thoughtfully. "They¡¯ll support Chapman if it means protecting themselves. And if Chapman agrees, I can manage the rest. The party will abandon Oliver Brown without hesitation once they sense danger."


    "Good," Eleanor said. "That¡¯s the rough n. Your job is to turn it into aplete, executable strategy."


    Juliette nodded. "Give me a week. I¡¯ll finalize everything."


    "Thank you," Eleanor said.


    "I¡¯ll be in my office. Let me know if you need anything else." With that, Juliette stood and walked out.


    After Juliette left, Eleanor watched Freya¡¯s school feed for a while. Seeing her daughterughing and interacting with other children brought a rare smile to her face. Once satisfied, she returned to her files, clearing up the pending approvals one by one.


    A short whileter, Teresa walked in with a folder in hand.


    "Your flight to Nigeria has been confirmed," she said. "You¡¯ll depart tomorrow at 9:30 AM from Manchester Airport. The journey will take six hours, and you¡¯ll arrive at Maiduguri International Airport at 3:30 PM local time."


    Eleanor nced up. "And the return?"


    "The return flight will be on standby after 6:00 PM local time. You can depart as soon as you arrive at the airport. Return time will be approximately six hours again."


    Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. "That means I¡¯ll miss Freya¡¯s pick-up tomorrow. I need to arrange that now."


    She picked up her phone and called Ethan.


    "Hello?" his voice answered.


    "Can we talk now?" she asked.


    "Sure."


    "I need your help tomorrow," Eleanor began. "I have a meeting in Nigeria. I can drop Freya off at school in the morning, but I won¡¯t be back in time to pick her up. Could you handle it? Just pick her up and send her home. I may not return until midnight."


    "What time is your departure?" he asked.


    "9:30 AM."


    "Then leave her to me," Ethan replied without hesitation. "I¡¯ll take care of everything. You focus on your meeting ande back safely. Don¡¯t worry about us... we¡¯ll be fine."


    "Thank you," she said softly.


    "There¡¯s no need to thank me. I would¡¯ve done it even if you were here. I¡¯m in a meeting right now, so if there¡¯s nothing else..."


    "No, that¡¯s all. We¡¯ll talkter. Bye."

 Chapter 72: Going to Daddy’s Place

    <h4>Chapter 72: Going to Daddy¡¯s ce</h4>


    Ethan was waiting at Eleanor¡¯s office parking lot just like the previous day. This time, she wasn¡¯t surprised. In fact, she had been expecting it.


    "Am I getting more familiar with him?" she wondered as she stepped toward the car. "Why do I feel like I¡¯d be disappointed if he hadn¡¯te today?"


    The driver stepped forward and opened the door, revealing a smiling Ethan seated inside.


    "Come in," he said warmly.


    She slid into the car and sat backfortably as the engine started and the vehicle pulled onto the road, heading toward Freya¡¯s school.


    Ethan nced at her. "Are you going to today¡¯s GMITCC banquet?"


    "Yes," Eleanor replied, surprised. "How do you know?"


    "You forgot who I am." He chuckled. "I¡¯m not bragging, but there¡¯s hardly anything in Manchester¡¯s business circle that escapes my notice. When I heard about the event, I figured you¡¯d attend... yourpany is new, and it¡¯s a great opportunity for exposure."


    "But I won¡¯t be representing Heimdall today," she said, smirking.


    "Oh?" Ethan raised a brow. "That¡¯s unexpected. Then whichpany are you going to represent?"


    "I won¡¯t represent anypany. Teresa will attend on behalf of Heimdall. I¡¯ll be going as Edward Miller¡¯s plus one."


    Ethan blinked. "Chairman of Fortune Group?"


    She nodded. "Yes. We have a good understanding, and I¡¯m currently the chairman of Fortune Tech."


    "Right," he said, snapping his fingers. "I almost forgot... you bought his techpany. But... how did you manage to convince the old man to sell? He¡¯s notcking in money, nor was he in any scandal."


    "I helped him resolve another major issue and paid full value for the shares."


    Ethan gave an approving nod. "Fair enough. But just be cautious. Unless you make your ownership public, people might start rumors. Some could even im you¡¯re involved in something improper."


    "I can handle a little scandal," she said calmly. "Besides, Mr. Miller¡¯s wife passed away a long time ago. His family is fully aware of my involvement with thepany. There¡¯s nothing shady going on."


    "I trust you. But still, be careful. These kinds of banquets are filled with jealous people. Some women might antagonize you just because you¡¯re more beautiful than they are. And don¡¯t get me started on the men. I¡¯ve seen a lot of drama unfold at these events. Bring an extra dress. Ruining someone else¡¯s outfit is a favorite tactic of petty women."


    "I know. It¡¯s not my first party," Eleanor said with a knowing smile. "I attended many in the U.S. Even before I became a Raynor, I was born into wealth. Besides, Grandma trained me well."


    "Then I¡¯m relieved," Ethan said. "But if you need help... any kind... just call me. No hesitation."


    "Alright."


    "When do you n to leave for the banquet?"


    "The event starts at seven. My stylist says she¡¯ll need at least an hour to prepare me, so I¡¯m nning to leave home around five."


    "That¡¯ll be a long night. Three or four hours at least," Ethanmented. "Freya will be home alone. If you agree, I could take her to my ce. That way, you don¡¯t have to worry about her while you¡¯re out, and I can care for her tomorrow too."


    Eleanor considered it for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Okay. After school, we¡¯ll go home first. I¡¯ll pack what she needs. Then you can take her."


    Ethan¡¯s eyes lit up with quiet joy. Inside, he was ecstatic. "This is the first time I get to bring my daughter to my home," he thought. "I hope Eleanor continues to be this busy so I can strengthen my bond with Freya. I¡¯ve missed so many chances before... but now, while she¡¯s here in Manchester, I¡¯ll make the most of it. I¡¯ll make them mine... both of them."


    "Don¡¯t worry," he said aloud. "I¡¯ll take excellent care of her."


    Soon, they arrived at the school. Freya spotted the car from a distance and waved enthusiastically. Ethan stepped out, walked to her, and took her backpack from her tiny shoulders. Hand in hand, father and daughter walked back to the car.


    Inside, Eleanor turned to her daughter. "Freya, today you¡¯re going to visit your daddy¡¯s ce. I have to attend a meeting abroad and won¡¯t be back until tomorrow night. You¡¯ll need to be a good girl while staying with him. Okay?"


    Freya¡¯s eyes sparkled. "Yes! I¡¯ll be a good girl! We¡¯ll have lots of fun!"


    Eleanor felt a pang of guilt in her chest. Her daughter didn¡¯t seem even a little sad about staying without her. But then she reminded herself... this was Freya¡¯s first time visiting Ethan¡¯s home. It was natural to be excited. Besides, Eleanor had seen how much Ethan adored their daughter. She could trust him.


    Still, she couldn¡¯t help but tease. "I see... so you won¡¯t miss Mommy at all, huh?"


    Freya froze, sensing the shift in the air. She panicked. "I will miss you, Mommy! I promise!"


    Eleanor turned her head away dramatically. "I¡¯m so sad. My little girl doesn¡¯t love me anymore."


    Freya quickly leaned over and hugged her mother¡¯s neck tightly. "I love you, Mommy! Don¡¯t be sad. I won¡¯t go to Daddy¡¯s ce if it makes you sad."


    Eleanorughed softly and kissed her daughter¡¯s cheek. "You convinced me. I¡¯m not sad anymore. You can go."


    "Are you sure?" Freya asked hesitantly, her big eyes searching her mother¡¯s assurance.


    "I¡¯m sure. I was just teasing you, silly girl."


    Relieved, Freya giggled and sat back in her seat, instantly cheerful again.


    Ethan, watching from the side, smiled warmly. The bond between mother and daughter was precious. He could only hope that someday, all three of them could live under the same roof... together, as a family.


    After reaching home, Eleanor packed Freya¡¯s belongings... school supplies, sleeping dress, her favorite plushie, toothbrush, a change of clothes, and even a bedtime storybook. Then she helped her daughter into Ethan¡¯s car and watched as they drove away.


    Once they were gone, she went to her study.


    "I want all Shadow Guards present," she instructed a nearby guard.


    A few minutester, all shadow guards except Ophelia stood before her, silent and alert.


    "Tomorrow," she began, her voice firm, "I¡¯m going to visit the most powerful Werehyena n, the Bultungin n. Who among you will apany me?"

 Chapter 73: Beyond Glamorous

    <h4>Chapter 73: Beyond morous</h4>


    Previously, when Eleanor had mentioned visiting the Werehyenas, no shadow guards were present. That¡¯s why her sudden announcement now hit them like a bombshell. For a moment, none of them spoke... a rare silence that underscored their shock.


    Sebastian was the first to recover. He straightened his posture and said with a frown, "Ma¡¯am, the Werehyenas are vicious. Meeting them in person is a risky move. Can¡¯t you avoid it somehow?"


    Eleanor shook her head calmly. "No. Sooner orter, I¡¯ll have to meet other supernatural ns in person. This time, Grandpa Dominic arranged the meeting himself. I don¡¯t expect any problems to arise, especially since Grandma already knows. I¡¯ve sent her my flight schedule... she¡¯ll be prepared for anything."


    Sebastian sighed in relief. "That¡¯s good to know. Still, I¡¯d rmend we all apany you. Young Miss already has three shadow guards with her. Plus, she¡¯ll be under her father¡¯s watchful eye. There shouldn¡¯t be any issue in our absence... especially since it¡¯s only for a day."


    Eleanor paused, considering his words. After a moment, she nodded. "Alright. All of you wille with me. But Ophelia will stay back to assist Juliette nc with some critical work. We¡¯ll leave tomorrow at 9:00 AM. A helicopter will take us to the airport, and the flight is scheduled to depart at 9:30."


    "I¡¯ll take care of the arrangements," Sebastian said, already pulling out his phone. "Should I coordinate with Miss Teresa or Miss Maya?"


    "Teresa," Eleanor replied. "She¡¯s handling all the travel logistics. But be careful... she doesn¡¯t know about the supernatural world. She just thinks I have some elite bodyguards keeping an eye on me from a distance."


    "I understand," he assured her. Then he added, "We also nned our assignments for today. The female guards will apany you personally, and the male guards will head to the banquet venue in advance to ensure everything is secure before your arrival. Is that eptable to you?"


    Eleanor nodded without hesitation. "Yes, do as you see fit. I trust your judgment."


    With the discussion concluded, Eleanor left her study and went to her room to rest for a while. The evening ahead promised to be long and demanding, and she wanted to be in top form.


    At exactly 4:30 PM, Eleanor got dressed and headed to "Beyond morous", the luxurious styling studio owned by her old school friend, Livia Grayson. The shop was located on Rochdale Road and had be one of the top styling destinations for Manchester¡¯s elite.


    As she entered, the scent of high-end products and the soft hum of beauty tools filled the air. The decor was elegant, with crystal chandeliers and plush velvet seating. The moment she stepped in, a familiar voice rang out.


    "Eleanor!"


    Livia dashed across the room, ignoring the startled stares of her other high-profile clients. She threw her arms around Eleanor in an enthusiastic hug, squealing like a teenager who had just reunited with her best friend after school holiday.


    Eleanor felt a warm wave of nostalgia. Livia hadn¡¯t changed a bit.


    All the women in the waiting area looked on in shock and confusion. Their usuallyposed and sophisticated stylist was suddenly acting like an uncultured schoolgirl. But Eleanor didn¡¯t mind. In fact, itforted her.


    She returned the hug and smiled, "Livia, it¡¯s been too long."


    Livia pulled back, still holding Eleanor¡¯s hands. "I couldn¡¯t believe it when Teresa told me you wereing today! Come, I¡¯ve been waiting for you!"


    She dragged Eleanor... almost forcibly... into a private VIP styling room and gestured for her to sit. "Let me get a good look at you," she said with a dramatic ir, cing her hands on her hips.


    "You¡¯ve be even more beautiful, Eleanor. Honestly, I was so worried about you back then."


    Her voice dropped slightly as she continued, "You know my family¡¯s situation after school. I started working in Liverpool as soon as I graduated. We lost touch, and then you changed your number. When I heard about your ident... it was all over the news. I went to your house to see you, but your guards said you weren¡¯t there. Then the rumors started... about you being missing. I feared the worst..."


    She paused, her eyes glistening with emotion. "I even went to church and prayed for your soul."


    Eleanor¡¯s heart softened. Before she could respond, Livia rambled on.


    "Thank God Teresa found me. I didn¡¯t even recognize her at first... she changed so much! But she remembered me. Told me you were in the US and doing well. I was so relieved! I even went back to the church and apologized to Jesus for assuming the worst. Hehe..."


    Eleanor gently stopped her by cing a hand on her arm. "Thank you for being a true friend, Livia. You haven¡¯t changed a bit... and I hope you never do. Now that I¡¯m back,e visit me anytime."


    Livia beamed. "You bet I will! By the way, Teresa and another woman are getting styled in the next room. They came about half an hour ago."


    "Perfect," Eleanor said. "Now, let¡¯s get started. I have a party to attend."


    "Leave it to me! I¡¯m doing your styling personally today." Livia pulled a clothing rack closer. "Look! I¡¯ve prepared three purple gowns for you, tailored to your measurements. Teresa told me you¡¯d wear one tonight and take the other two as backup."


    Eleanor examined the gowns carefully and selected one with subtle embellishments and a flowing silhouette. "This one will do."


    "Excellent choice! Now check the essories Iid out on the dressing table."


    "My earrings and watch won¡¯t change," Eleanor noted. "You can pick the rest."


    "Got it. Teresa also said you wouldn¡¯t change your shoes since they¡¯re... well, outrageously expensive. Can I see them?"


    Eleanor extended her foot. Livia gasped.


    "Is that... what I think it is?"


    Eleanor smiled. "Yes. You know your staff."


    "Antonio Vietri. Of course I know! This is my business, after all. But I¡¯ve never seen one up close before. It¡¯s priceless."


    "Want to check it out?"


    "Can I?" Livia asked eagerly.


    "Of course."


    Eleanor slipped off the shoe, and Livia examined it like it was a museum artifact. Then, more seriously, she asked, "Did you bring an extra pair, just in case something happens?"


    "I always carry several pairs in my car. I¡¯m prepared for wardrobe malfunctions," Eleanor replied.


    "Good. Now let me make you shine tonight," Livia said, adjusting Eleanor¡¯s seat as she began preparing her hair and makeup.


    While Livia worked, Eleanor pulled out her phone and sent her live location to Edward Miller, who would be picking her up shortly. She then leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and preparing herself for the long night ahead.

 Chapter 74: Commotion Before the Event

    <h4>Chapter 74: Commotion Before the Event</h4>


    Outside the venue, at the entrance of the Manchester Central Convention Complex, lots of people gathered to witness the spectacle. Most of the upper echelon of Manchester¡¯s businessmunity would be gathering here shortly. Those who were invited would arrive in due time and enter the venue. But many small businessmen who couldn¡¯t manage an invitation came anyway to catch a glimpse of the wealthier businesspeople in the area. Some even brought their children to broaden their horizons.


    They waited patiently outside the venue, curious to see who qualified to attend such a high-level banquet. Some even brought binocrs to see more clearly. The security guards at the venue were used to this kind ofmotion every year. They usually ignored the crowd unless someone tried to forcefully enter or sneak in without an invitation.


    Suddenly, people saw a Rolls-Royce Phantom arrive and stop in front of the security checkpoint. A middle-aged man and a young woman stepped out of the car and approached the gate.


    "Isn¡¯t that Dn Webb? The chairman of the Webb Group?" someone eximed, pointing in excitement.


    "Yeah, I saw him in a televised interview once. But who¡¯s the woman beside him?"


    "She¡¯s Imogen Webb, his eldest daughter," another answered knowledgeably. "Rumor has it, although Dn still holds the title of chairman, Imogen is the one actually running the group¡¯s operations."


    As Dn showed his invitation to the staff and walked through the gate with his daughter, a Lamborghini Aventador pulled up next.


    Gasps filled the air. "Wow, look at that beauty," someone whispered.


    From the sleek red sports car emerged a striking woman in a form-fitting red gown.


    "I recognize her¡ªthat¡¯s Jessica Saunders, the CEO of Saunders Group!"


    "She looks stunning. That dress must be designer," another said, eyes wide.


    "Fits her like a second skin," someone murmured.


    Jessica, poised and graceful, handed her invitation to the staff and entered. The car drove off to the designated parking area, leaving onlookers in awe.


    "Look, two more cars are approaching. I wonder who it might be this time."


    "It looks like all the expensive cars will be here today. Aston Martin Rapide and Mercedes-Benz G-ss this time."


    "Man, you know your cars," someone in the crowdmented.


    "I run a few car showrooms," the other replied with a grin.


    "Can I have your card? I¡¯ve been thinking of buying a new car."


    "Here, take it. My name is Milton. When you visit my showroom, call me. I can arrange some discount for you. But in exchange, you have to tell me the guests¡¯ names here. Seems like you know quite a few."


    "I¡¯ll do my best," the man chuckled. "But some of these guests are so private, they barely ever show up in media."


    "Whatever. Just tell me what you know."


    "Look! Arlo Baldwin and his wife just came out of the Aston Martin. He¡¯s the chairman of Infinite Group. Behind them is Rory Barrett, CEO of SpiderWeb Technologies. I don¡¯t know the girl beside him... might be his daughter or secretary."


    A blue Ferrari rolled up next, drawing even more attention.


    "Look, son," a father said to the teenager beside him, "That man is Harrison Reed, chairman of the Sapphire Group. And the woman with him is his sister, Maisie Reed. Our family business has relied on theirpany for years. If you ever run into them, show proper respect. Of course, all the other people entering theplex are powerful too. Be respectful to them as well."


    "Are they the most powerful people in Manchester?" the boy asked.


    The father replied with a serious face, "These businessmen at the banquet are powerful, but they¡¯re not the most powerful. There are many wealthy individuals who neither have the time nor the mindset to appear in public. Power varies depending on context... like a police officer in his station, a judge in his courtroom, or a doctor in the hospital. Never underestimate someone based on their attire. In the quiet corridors of administration, decisions are made that can shift lives without ever being noticed by the crowd. But historically, the power of money has always prevailed. It¡¯s like water... it takes whatever form it needs to."


    He paused, then added, "Always remember... there¡¯s a sky beyond the sky you can see. There will always be someone more powerful than the person in front of you."


    One by one, invited guests continued to arrive. A long queue formed in front of the gate. Security staff worked hard to minimize the waiting time for these economic big shots. Despite their efforts, the queue grew longer as time passed.


    Guests exited their cars at the gate and walked in by showing their invitations. It was just a formality. Those who could afford such luxury cars would nevere uninvited and embarrass themselves.


    For onlookers, it looked like a luxury car showdown. Bentley Mulsanne, Range Rover, Rolls-Royce Cullinan, McLaren 720S, Mercedes-Maybach, Porsche Panamera Turbo, BMW 7 Series, and Audi A8 L could be seen queueing up one after another in front of the gate.


    Several journalists were trying to capture photos of the cars and the businessmen from afar. They were hoping to find something newsworthy. Inside the venue, all photos and recordings were strictly prohibited. No journalists were invited to this banquet. However, a few media owners were seen entering with formal invitations.


    People with various backgrounds and intentions gathered in front of the Convention Complex. Some came to catch a glimpse of top businessmen. Some came just to see the luxury cars. Others were curious to witness the grandeur of the event. A few small businessmen came in hopes of connecting with others who also didn¡¯t have invitations. Some street vendors illegally set up stalls to make some quick cash. A few homeless people sat quietly beside the walkway, seeking coins for their next meal. Some brought their friends and family to experience the spectacle. And some came merely to see the people who hade to see.


    The crowd was like a sea. All types of rivers of life hade together and flowed into this single spot. From billionaires stepping out of luxury cars to the homeless seeking coins amidst the crowd... from the silent deals being made inside the venue to the street deals among vendors... from thevish array of gourmet dishes inside the banquet to the lone stale bun in front of a hungry man outside... everyone here was living their own truth.


    They were all passing through the same gate... just from different directions.


    Status may change the ride, but not the destination.

 Chapter 75: At the Banquet

    <h4>Chapter 75: At the Banquet</h4>


    When Eleanor arrived in front of the venue with Edward Miller, most of the guests had already entered. They came in Edward¡¯s personal Rolls-Royce Bespoke... a uniquely customized vehicle known throughout the business circle as his. As soon as the car approached, several businessmen who had been walking toward the entrance stopped to greet him.


    Edward stepped out first and, like a perfect gentleman, walked around to help Eleanor out of the car. The gesture was graceful and poised, but what truly shocked the onlookers was the young woman herself. The same Edward Miller... known for living a scandal-free life, upholding family values, and keeping his private affairs low-profile, was now apanied by a stunning young woman. Naturally, curiosity surged among the guests.


    Eleanor wore a custom-made amethyst silk gown with an off-shoulder neckline that clung elegantly to her graceful figure. The fabric shimmered with each movement, catching the light in a soft, impressive glow. A daring slit ran up one side, elusive but thoughtful enough just enough to remind observers that this was a woman who knew exactly she was above their league.


    Her pale, porcin-like skin glowed under Livia¡¯s skilled makeup. A luminous base enhanced her natural beauty, while soft violet smokey eyeshadow drew attention to her emerald-green eyes, giving them an ethereal intensity. Her lips were painted in a soft plum satin finish... not too shy, yet impossible to ignore.


    Dangling from her ears were diamond drop earrings that sparkled against her bare shoulders. Her wavy silver hair was styled in a low, sculpted bun at the nape of her neck, held in ce by a crescent moon-shaped white goldb adorned with amethysts and pearls.


    Walking beside Edward, who wore a finely tailored navy-blue business suit, Eleanor¡¯s silver high heels clicked confidently against the concrete. Each step brought her closer to six feet in stature... a figure of poisedmand and refined beauty.


    "Good evening, Chairman Miller. I¡¯m Grayson Marsh. My father is Gordon Marsh. He brought me to your birthday banquet when he was alive. This is my wife, Florence Mitchell," a middle-aged man said, approaching them with a warm smile.


    "Hello, sir. It¡¯s nice to meet you," Florence added politely.


    Edward returned the smile. "It¡¯s nice to meet you both. Let¡¯s head inside. I hope we¡¯re not toote."


    As they walked toward the entrance, an elderly man stood waiting beside a much younger one. The older man¡¯s eyes shone when he saw Edward.


    "Edward, you¡¯re a hard man to find these days. How have you been?" the man greeted, extending his hand.


    Edward shook it firmly. "Michael, I¡¯m still as busy as ever. I haven¡¯t had the luxury of retirement like you. The children are doing well, but with so manypanies to manage, none of them are keen to sit at the very top just yet."


    Michael chuckled. "Let¡¯s head in together. By the way, who¡¯s this lovely youngdy?"


    Edward smiled slightly. "Her name is Eleanor Raynor. She¡¯s one of my business associates. Came to see the spectacle."


    At the mention of her name, Michael¡¯s expression shifted slightly to surprise. The young man beside him, however, had already been entranced by Eleanor¡¯s presence from the moment she appeared.


    "The Raynor family?" Michael asked with a cautious tone.


    "Yes," Edward replied curtly.


    Michael¡¯s demeanour changed immediately. "Youngdy, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you."


    Eleanor nodded politely. "It¡¯s nice to meet you too."


    They didn¡¯t press further about her. Michael, along with other seasoned businessmen, knew better than to discuss the Raynor family openly. The family, rooted in Manchester, wielded immense financial power... and discretion regarding them was wise.


    Changing the subject, Michael gestured to the young man beside him. "Edward, this is my youngest son."


    "Hello, Uncle. I¡¯m Mason Hammond," the young man said respectfully.


    Michael added, "He recently founded a new IT firm, Noventix Digital. Hispany applied for a contract from your group. If possible, please keep him in mind."


    Edward gave a small nod. "Don¡¯t worry. Michael and I did plenty of projects together in our youth. Mason,e to my office tomorrow. We¡¯ll discuss your proposal."


    With that, the group finally stepped into therge banquet hall, alive with movement and murmurs.


    At the front walked Edward and Eleanor, their presencemanding immediate attention. Just behind them followed Michael and Mason, and bringing up the rear were Grayson and Florence, who had remained quiet but observant. As an intelligent man, Greyson already guessed that the young woman held power grater than these old businessmen.


    The moment they entered, almost all eyes turned toward them.


    Several businessmen stepped forward to greet Edward, who had an esteemed reputation within the GMITCC, being both a founding member and a long-serving director. The Miller Group, after all, was one of the wealthiest business conglomerates in the region.


    Michael and Grayson were greeted as well, but it was Eleanor who drew the most attention... not only because of her striking beauty but also because of her unexpected appearance alongside Edward Miller. People began whispering, specting on her identity.


    Amidst the crowd, Joseph Ingram, the former chairman of NexaByte Technologies, spotted Eleanor and walked briskly toward her.


    "Good evening, Miss Raynor," he greeted with visible deference. "I just spoke with Miss Li... she mentioned you would be attending with Mr. Miller. I¡¯ve been looking forward to your arrival."


    Several businessmen noticed how Joseph, a veteran in the industry, spoke to Eleanor first... before even acknowledging Edward or Michael. His tone was polite, even deferential. That raised eyebrows. Some mentally took note to find out about this young woman.


    "It¡¯s nice to see you again, Mr. Ingram," Eleanor replied, her voice cool andposed. "I¡¯m just here to enjoy the show."


    "Yes, yes. Please enjoy the party," he said with a nod, before turning to greet Edward and Michael in turn.


    Not far behind, Teresa and Cassandra, representatives from Heimdall, arrived in elegant gowns and meticulous makeup. They noticed Eleanor¡¯s arrival instantly. As part of a prearranged protocol, they greeted Edward Miller with a brief exchange and gave Eleanor a respectful nod... then moved away silently.


    Meanwhile, Joseph Ingram lingered near Eleanor, continuing a polite conversation as the group made their way deeper into the hall.

 Chapter 76: The Young Masters

    <h4>Chapter 76: The Young Masters</h4>


    Recently, the Clifford family of Manchester formed a notable association with one of Birmingham¡¯s wealthiest families... the Chen family. The Chens were known throughout the Kingdom for their vast influence in the media industry and their widespread involvement in various import businesses. Although they had immigrated from China a few generations ago, they had established a firm and influential foothold in the Kingdom.


    The Clifford family had invested in several new ventures in partnership with the Chens. Many in the Manchester business circle believed the Cliffords were on the verge of ascending to new heights. The alliance between the two families wasrgely due to the growing friendship between Benjamin Chen, the CEO of Chen IT, and James Clifford, the fourth son of the Clifford family. They had initially be acquainted through a mutual friend, but after Benjamin relocated to Manchester to directly manage Chen IT¡¯s operations, their friendship deepened. James had been instrumental in helping Benjamin gain entry into Manchester¡¯s elite youth business circle.


    Previously, James had lived in the shadow of the first son, Jacob Clifford, who had been managing the family business for years and was widely expected to seed their father, Jonathan Clifford. However, in recent times, the family patriarch, Nichs Clifford, had begun favouring James...rgely because of the advantages that came from his connection with the Chen family. Many members of the Clifford family now believed James might ultimately be the sessor, thanks to the old man¡¯s backing.


    As the CEO of Chen IT, Benjamin Chen naturally received an invitation to the prestigious GMITCC annual banquet. James apanied him to meet prominent business leaders and forge new connections. They were casually chatting with a group of second-generation elites in a quiet corner of the venue when Eleanor entered the banquet hall with Edward Miller.


    The atmosphere shifted instantly. As one of the most breathtakingly beautiful women they had ever seen walked into the room, the group¡¯s casual conversation quickly devolved into stunned silence... followed by a flurry of hormone-fuelledmentary.


    "Wow! She is hot!" one of the young men, who happened to be facing the entrance, blurted out.


    "Where?" another asked, craning his neck. Without waiting for an answer, he followed the first man¡¯s gaze.


    "Damn! I¡¯ve never seen a woman like that before..." he whispered, almost reverently.


    "Mr. Chen, you should take a look," another said quickly, hoping to curry favour with Benjamin.


    In moments, all eyes in the group turned to the entrance.


    "Beautiful!"


    "Fuck!"


    "I¡¯m willing to drop a million for just one night with her."


    "Holy shit! Where did shee from? She¡¯s definitely not from around here. Otherwise, I would¡¯ve noticed her."


    "This kind of beauty is out of your league," someone joked. "Among all of us, only Young Master Chen has the skills to get her into bed."


    Benjamin remainedposed, although he had indeed already imagined a few explicit scenes in his head. Unlike the others, however, he was careful. He mentally noted her appearance and nned to investigate her identityter. He had no intention of getting into trouble over a woman, no matter how beautiful she was.


    Among the group, such discussions weremon. They were all habitual womanizers... something they were well aware of, and had even been known to exchange women among themselves likemodities.


    "Why is she walking beside Old Man Edward?" one of them asked, squinting toward the entrance.


    "She could be his daughter or maybe a secretary."


    "No way," another said confidently. "I know every member of the Miller family. I even went to a family function a few weeks ago. She wasn¡¯t there. Also, all of Chairman Miller¡¯s secretaries are men. He doesn¡¯t like having women around him at work."


    "Then maybe she¡¯s his new girlfriend or..." someone paused dramatically, "his concubine?"


    "Don¡¯t talk like that. Everyone knows Edward Miller is a family man. He¡¯s never had a scandal."


    "Oh, shut up! All men are innocent... until they get caught," someone quipped, earning a round ofughter.


    "Well said."


    "Maybe the old man brought her to rub our noses in it."


    "Damn, I hate him even more now!"


    "Alright, alright. Calm down. Don¡¯t lose your minds over one beauty. There are others here."


    "Did you notice Heimdall¡¯s two beauties?"


    "Yes, that Teresa Li is insanely hot. The other one¡¯s face isn¡¯t as striking, but that body..." he trailed off with a smirk.


    "Young Master Chen, what do you think about Miss Li? She¡¯s Asian, like you. I¡¯ve heard rumours she might actually be the CEO of Heimdall Technologies. Officially, she calls herself just a representative, but that¡¯s clearly a cover. She¡¯s made high-level decisions on the spot... something only a CEO or board member would be authorized to do. No one even knows who the real CEO is."


    Trying again to gain favour with Benjamin, one of the men leaned closer. But Benjamin only chuckled.


    "I can¡¯t date another Asian," he said with a sigh. "If my family finds out, they¡¯ll force me into marriage right away. That¡¯d be the end of my freedom. Besides, with her status and the kind of moves Heimdall¡¯s been makingtely, she wouldn¡¯t agree to anything casual."


    "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve spotted several other beauties here. Look at the far-right corner... what do you think of her?"


    While the group continued with their discussion, one member remained notably silent... James Clifford. Normally, James would be among the loudest voices in such conversations, but today, he couldn¡¯t get a word out.


    No one in the group noticed his abnormal behaviour.


    James was in the middle of a private storm. The moment Eleanor walked in, he had felt a strange pull... an intense familiarity that left him unsettled. It took a few seconds, but when he finally recognized her, his mind went nk.


    "Eleanor Whitmore!"


    She lookedpletely different from thest time he saw her. Her skin was now pale and glowing, her hair had transformed to a soft silver hue, and her once brown eyes had turned a sharp emerald green. Even her posture had changed... she had grown taller, more graceful, and infinitely more alluring. But more than her appearance, her aura had changed. She no longer looked like the meek, frightened girl he once knew. Instead, she moved with calm confidence, exchanging words with business tycoons in such grace as if she belonged among them.


    Eleanor Whitmore. His first love.


    Though that love had long since curdled into hate... and though he had convinced himself he was over her... James now found himself in emotional chaos. Watching her walk beside Edward Miller andugh so freely with others pierced something deep inside him.


    "Am I... jealous?" he wondered briefly, before immediately rejecting the idea.


    Impossible. How could he be jealous of a woman he had dumped? A woman he had once wanted dead?


    "Regret? No. Never."


    But still, the sight of her, transformed, radiant, desirable beyond imagination... it hit him harder than he expected.


    It was as if the caterpir he had casually discarded had transformed into the most dazzling butterfly in the world.

 Chapter 77: The Indifference

    <h4>Chapter 77: The Indifference</h4>


    The Clifford family and the Whitmore family had long suspected that someone was backing Eleanor. After weighing the possibilities, they concluded it must have been Elliot Grant. Given Eleanor¡¯s mother¡¯s past association with him, he seemed like the most likely candidate.


    But now, seeing her beside Edward Miller, it was evident they had all been wrong.


    She hadn¡¯t just found protection, and she had found it in the highest of ces. Eleanor Whitmore had be a ything of Edward Miller.


    It all made sense now... how she had vanished without a trace, how not even thebined efforts of the Cliffords, the Whitmores, or the police had found her. Of course, they hadn¡¯t. The Miller family had the power and means to make someone disappear and remain invisible for years. If they wanted to hide someone, no force in the city could uncover that person¡¯s whereabouts.


    Back then, although only James and his mother had truly tried to search for her. At least the Clifford family name was behind them. And now, it was clear why the police had been so uninterested in pursuing her case. She had been under the protection of the Millers from the very beginning.


    "That bitch," James thought through gritted teeth. "She wouldn¡¯t even let me touch her when we were dating. Now she¡¯s sleeping with an old man without shame?"


    His fists clenched, his face flushed with rage. But a secondter, he caught himself.


    "Calm down. It¡¯s not worth getting worked up over." He reminded himself, forcing a deep breath.


    Fearing he might explode in front of everyone, James decided to take a moment to cool off. He turned to hispanions with a forced smile.


    "I need to use the restroom. I¡¯ll be right back," he said.


    The others barely noticed his departure, too preupied with selecting which woman each of them would approachter in the evening.


    James slipped away, navigating the banquet hall until he reached the restroom. Luckily, it was still early in the event and the washroom was empty.


    The moment the door closed behind him, his fa?ade shattered. He let out a growl of frustration and punched the concrete wall hard enough to split his knuckles. Pain shot through his hand and momentarily dulling the storm inside his head.


    "Who would¡¯ve thought... that nd, boring little girl would turn into that," he muttered bitterly to himself, still seething. "Back then, I tried to get into her pants countless times. But she always resisted. And the more she resisted, the more I wanted to break her."


    His lips curled into a sneer.


    "I never even got aroused by her... not like I did with Jennifer and other girls. With Eleanor, it was just the thrill of domination... the frustration of control I couldn¡¯t have."


    Then he chuckled darkly as a memory resurfaced.


    "Even the kidnappers didn¡¯t want to touch her. Said she looked like a child. I had to force them by adding rape to the contract. They only did it for the money. If they had seen what she would be just a few yearster..." Heughed coldly. "Those bastards hit the jackpot. They got her first."


    His expression twisted as he leaned against the sink, blood dripping from his knuckles.


    "And to think, Edward Miller didn¡¯t get her virginity either. Ha! That old bastard¡¯s probably ying secondhand now."


    He threw his head back andughed loudly, like a man unhinged.


    Then suddenly, a realization struck him.


    "The killers... what¡¯s taking them so long?" he muttered, eyes narrowing. "No way it should take this long."


    A new thought surfaced... sinister and fueled by lust.


    "Maybe I should dy the order," he said aloud. "Even if she¡¯s Edward¡¯s whore now... she was mine once. She loved me... loved me more than anyone else. That can¡¯t just disappear."


    A twisted smile spread across his face.


    "I¡¯ll act like I want her back. That should be enough. She¡¯s always been stupid when it came to me. I can fake a few tears if I have to. I acted for years, and she never suspected a thing."


    With his decision made, James felt strangely calm. His rage had been reced by desire and delusion. He cleaned his hands, straightened his suit, and walked out of the restroom wearing a smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes.


    ***


    When Eleanor stepped out of the car, she lightly touched her earring to activate the microphone. Her shadow guards immediately reported the current situation.


    No threats were detected. All staff had been screened and cleared. Still, the guards remained alert and vignt.


    Her earpiece stayed on, allowing her to listen in on all internalmunications.


    She moved through the crowd alongside Edward, meeting numerous influential businessmen. Some she made a mental note to investigate further, while others she promptly dismissed from memory.


    Though Joseph Ingram had been instructed by Teresa to support Eleanor during the event, he hadn¡¯t been able to fulfil his role because someone else had unexpectedly stepped in.


    Out of nowhere, Grayson and his wife Florence became Eleanor¡¯s assistants. Both served her enthusiastically, even without being asked. It was so sudden that Eleanor asked Sebastian to investigate their backgrounds out of suspicion.


    After some time, Sebastian delivered his preliminary report.


    "Ma¡¯am, Mr. Marsh is clean. He¡¯s not a member of GMITCC. His family business isn¡¯t even in the same field, they supply construction materials. Mrs. Marsh¡¯s brother works as a clerk in the Chamber¡¯s office. He managed to secure an invitation by requesting it from the president and gave it to them."


    Sebastian paused, then continued, "Mr. Marsh has a daughter. A young heir from one of the prominent families tried to court her, but she rejected him. Now he¡¯s pressuring the family by obstructing their business operations, demanding they send their daughter to him for a few days. The family, naturally, refused such a disgraceful demand, and as a result, they¡¯re on the verge of bankruptcy. They came today to seek help from Mr. Miller, hoping that with the Miller family¡¯s support, that boy wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything."


    After another pause, he added, "That¡¯s all I¡¯ve found so far. If you need more details, I¡¯ll gather them tonight."


    Eleanor lightly touched her nose to cover her mouth and replied softly, "That¡¯s all for the moment. Thank you."


    While she was listening to Sebastian¡¯s report, the group of young masters approached to greet Edward Miller, led by Benjamin Chen.


    He stepped forward, hand outstretched. "Good evening, Chairman Miller. It¡¯s an honour to meet you. Your reputation precedes you. I¡¯m Benjamin Chen, CEO of Chen IT."


    Edward epted the handshake. "I¡¯ve heard of you, Mr. Chen. You¡¯re doing quite well for yourself. Chen IT is on a sharp upward trajectory under your leadership."


    Benjamin smiled modestly. "You¡¯re too kind, Chairman. I¡¯m only where I am because of my family¡¯s support. Compared to your achievements, I still have a long way to go."


    Edward chuckled. "Modesty suits you, Mr. Chen. But facts are facts. You¡¯ve already outpaced mypany in several sectors."


    As the rest of the young masters greeted Edward and Michael Hammond in turn, Benjamin turned to Eleanor.


    He extended his hand again. "Good evening, Miss. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you."


    Eleanor didn¡¯t acknowledge the gesture. She looked directly into his eyes and gave a polite nod. "I¡¯m Eleanor. It¡¯s nice to meet you."


    Benjamin, sensing the cool formality, withdrew his hand smoothly and turned to Mason to continue the round of greetings... careful not to let his rejection show.


    At that moment, James, who had been waiting in line, stepped forward and greeted her, "Hello. It¡¯s nice to see you."


    Eleanor looked him in the eyes and replied politely, "It¡¯s nice to meet you too, Mister."


    James, staring into Eleanor¡¯s eyes, felt his world copse. Those eyes were cold, indifferent, and utterly devoid of emotion. There was no trace of familiarity in them. It was as if they were meeting for the first time. Her entire demeanour radiated only one thing... indifference.


    Yes, indifference... that was the only word echoing in James¡¯s mind.

 Chapter 78: The Ninja Attack

    <h4>Chapter 78: The Ninja Attack</h4>


    James couldn¡¯t believe what he had just witnessed.


    The same Eleanor who once clung to him like an obedient pup, following his everymand, now looked him in the eye as if he were aplete stranger. Cold. Indifferent. Unmoved.


    Her expression didn¡¯t flicker for even a second. There wasn¡¯t a hint of recognition, no sh of memory. Just void-like detachment. That hollow gaze cut deeper than a de.


    It was a bitter pill to swallow.


    James stepped back silently from the spotlight, retreating to a quiet corner, his heart burning with confusion and anger. The second phase of his n would soon begin, and then he¡¯d know the truth. Was Eleanor truly pretending? Or had she genuinely forgotten about him?


    He refused to believe she could forget him. But despite his bravado, a gnawing uncertainty lingered in the back of his mind. What if she had? What if she really was no longer the Eleanor who once loved him so dearly?


    He clenched his fists, barely suppressing the storm building inside him.


    Meanwhile, the party continued.


    After the group of young elites moved on, a few middle-aged businessmen approached Edward to exchange greetings and discuss trivial matters. Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of three elegantly dressed women, each carrying a wine ss. They approached gracefully,ughing softly among themselves... until one of them stumbled dramatically.


    The woman tripped, her heel catching on the floor. She fell with a sharp gasp, her wine ss slipping from her hand. Scarlet liquid sshed across the lower hem of Eleanor¡¯s gown.


    Eleanor could have stepped aside. She had seen the womaning from the corner of her eye, but something about the situation seemed... staged.


    There was no malice in these women¡¯s aura. No threat. Only guilt. Someone had sent them.


    She allowed the spill to happen. This had the makings of a ssic setup.


    From the traditional script, she knew how this was supposed to go... someone spills a drink, and thedy rushes to the restroom. A perfect moment to iste the target.


    One of the other women quickly helped the fallendy up, brushing her off gently while scolding her yfully.


    "I told you not to wear heels you¡¯re not used to! Now look... you¡¯ve hurt yourself and caused a mess!"


    The third woman turned to Eleanor with a flustered expression. "I¡¯m so sorry, Miss. My friend didn¡¯t mean to cause any trouble. Let me help clean your dress."


    "You ruined her evening!" the helper scolded again. "Even if we sold everything we had, it wouldn¡¯t cover the cost of this gown."


    Eleanor inwardly apuded the performance. Not bad. But unfortunately, they were acting in front of the wrong woman.


    Her group, however, didn¡¯t know how to respond. They stood frozen, unsure if they should intervene or allow the drama to y out. Among them, Florence Mitchell looked particrly devastated, as if she¡¯d failed a major life test.


    After observing their reactions, Eleanor finally spoke.


    "It¡¯s alright," she said calmly, her voice cool yetposed. "I was about to head to the restroom anyway. There¡¯s no need to worry about the gown. Miss, please get your ankle checked... it might be worse than it looks. A twisted ankle can cause long-term damage if left untreated. You should find a doctor as soon as possible."


    With that, she turned gracefully and began walking toward the restroom. Florence followed close behind like an obedient soldier. Leaving everybody around there in awe with her noble behaviour.


    As they walked, Eleanor issued quiet instructions through her earpiece. "I need a spare gown in the restroom. Ophelia, bring the one with the gemstone embroidery."


    "Yes, ma¡¯am," Ophelia¡¯s voice responded promptly.


    While moving through the hallway, Eleanor analysed the situation. "These women weren¡¯t afraid. They radiated guilt, not hostility. This feels more like the work of a lecherous young master hoping to iste me... not an assassin¡¯s n. Assassins don¡¯t feel guilt. Not even their followers. They should act without hesitation."


    Once at the women¡¯s restroom, Eleanor saw no one loitering outside.


    A slight pang of disappointment touched her heart.


    Turning to Florence, she gave one final instruction, "Stay outside. Make sure no man enters this restroom. If someone tries, shout. Loudly."


    "Yes, ma¡¯am!" Florence saluted mentally and stood guard with resolve.


    Eleanor stepped into thevish restroom.


    The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the faint aroma of rosewood. Gilded mirrors lined the marble walls. Warm lightingplemented the soft instrumental music ying from hidden speakers. A space meant to soothe.


    She paused before the mirror, her emerald eyes studying her reflection. Calm. Unbothered.


    Reaching into her clutch, she pulled out her La Prairie Skin Caviar Powder Foundation, her favourite. She flipped it open, dabbed a puff into the pressed powder, and gently blotted her T-zone. Her lips received a quick touch of plum-toned gloss, and she adjusted the diamond earring brushing her jawline.


    Suddenly, she sensed a hostile aura enter the restroom. Her body instinctively tensed, but she kept her expression neutral and calmly continued her touch-up. The presence approached her almost silently from behind.


    Eleanor grew serious. Every sense heightened as she focused on the faint sound of the intruder¡¯s breathing drawing closer. Yet, she maintained herposure, acting as though nothing was amiss.


    Just as the intruder was about to strike, she spun andunched a precise punch aimed at the intruder¡¯s head. But the figure moved like water... ducking under the blow and creating distance in one fluid motion.


    Now Eleanor saw her opponent clearly.


    A woman with short ck hair. Dressed in a tactical ck vest and skin-tight pants. A ninja-like mask covered her face. Only her sharp eyes were visible... eyes that had seen blood.


    On the floor near the entrancey a ck evening gown, discarded carelessly.


    Ophelia hadn¡¯t arrived yet.


    "Should I fight her alone? Stall until Opheliaes? Or call in the Shadow Team?" Eleanor¡¯s mind raced.


    But her opponent didn¡¯t wait.


    She lunged... her heel slicing toward Eleanor¡¯s ribs with dangerous precision.


    Eleanor twisted her body mid-step, the heel narrowly missing her and instead striking the mirror behind her. It shattered into jagged shards with a loud crash.


    "Ninjutsu?" Eleanor asked calmly, tilting her head. "How interesting."


    The ninja struck again, this time sweeping low with a kick designed to knock her off bnce. Eleanor leapt backward and narrowly avoided the attack.


    "You¡¯re good," Eleanor said coolly, her breath even. "But this ends now. I don¡¯t want to spill blood in a restroom."


    "What?" the woman murmured in shock, her voice sharp but uncertain.


    But she didn¡¯t have time to recover.


    Four ck-d figures emerged from the shadows of the restroom, surrounding the ninja without a sound. Panic reced confidence in the woman¡¯s eyes.


    She made a desperate lunge toward one of them, but it was futile.


    Before she could blink, a fifth figure appeared behind her and, with a swift twist, snapped her neck. Crack!


    She copsed to the floor, lifeless.


    At that moment, the restroom door swung open and an anxious Florence entered.

 Chapter 79: A Woman with No Past

    <h4>Chapter 79: A Woman with No Past</h4>


    The moment Florence stepped into the restroom and saw five ck-d figures standing in a circle around a fallen woman, her heart skipped a beat. Panic surged through her veins. But then, her eyes scanned the room frantically... and there, standing a few feet away from the group with her arms crossed and an unfazed expression, was Eleanor.


    A loud, audible sigh of relief escaped Florence¡¯s lips. It was so dramatic that even normal humans could have heard it echo across the marble walls.


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow. Her lips twitched in amusement.


    In that brief moment, she found herself genuinely liking the woman.


    Before Eleanor couldment, Florence rushed toward her and spoke, her voice drenched in relief. "Thank God you¡¯re alright! I heard ss shattering and thought... something bad had happened to you."


    Eleanor gave her a cool,posed nod. "Florence, wait outside. This matter concerns them... it has nothing to do with us."


    Although Florence didn¡¯t fully understand what was going on, she nodded obediently and exited the room without protest.


    Once the door clicked shut, Eleanor gave a brief series of instructions.


    "Ophelia, hand me the spare dress. Elias, lock the restroom door. The rest of you... check her body for any tracking devices."


    Isadora stepped forward and said, "Already checked. Aside from her mobile phone, there are no hidden devices or transmitters."


    Eleanor gave a small nod. "Sebastian, you know the drill. Remove the body from any public area. Then begin the investigation. She may have had partners in the crowd. I¡¯m going to change."


    She epted the dress from Ophelia and disappeared into the changing room.


    Within minutes, she emerged wearing the new gown... sleek, form-fitting, and embroidered with fine gemstones. The ruined one was neatly folded in her arms.


    The restroom had already been cleared. Only Ophelia stood waiting.


    Eleanor handed her the soiled gown. "Put this in the car. Track the assassin¡¯s trail and identify her associates. Do not kill anyone before extracting information. You¡¯ll be enough to apany me here. The rest of the team can search for the rest of the assassin group. We can¡¯t afford dy. If they sense something, they¡¯ll scatter."


    She paused and added coolly, "Don¡¯t worry. The banquet will end soon."


    With that, she walked to the restroom door and pulled it open. Behind her, Ophelia melted silently into the shadows like a ghost vanishing into the night.


    As Eleanor stepped out, her gazended on James, who was leaning against the wall directly opposite the restroom door. His eyes met hers immediately.


    For a fleeting moment, the air between them thickened. Tension lingered... but it broke the moment Eleanor turned her head to the right, where Florence stood waiting.


    "Let¡¯s go," Eleanor said, already walking toward the banquet hall.


    Florence hurried after her, keeping pace.


    James remained stunned. Her eyes... they were still so cold, so detached. The Eleanor he remembered had always looked at him with affection, longing, admiration. This Eleanor didn¡¯t even flinch. Not even a flicker of recognition.


    He rushed after her.


    "Eleanor!" he called, his voice rising over the ambient music filtering from the banquet.


    She stopped and turned with the same indifferent poise. "Yes?"


    James stepped closer. "Don¡¯t you remember me?"


    Her face was unreadable.


    "I¡¯m James," he said hurriedly, voice softening. "James Clifford."


    She didn¡¯t blink. "Yes. We met earlier at the hall. Do you have anything else to say?"


    James froze, shocked by herpleteck of emotion. "No... not just earlier tonight. We met before that. We... we were lovers, for a long time. Don¡¯t you remember anything at all?"


    For the first time, her expression shifted. A radiant, almost mischievous smile lit up her face. It was dazzling... the most radiant smile James had ever seen.


    "That¡¯s a new one," she said with a lightugh. "I¡¯ve heard all kinds of pickup lines, but this one¡¯s quite creative. Thank you, but... I don¡¯t believe in reincarnation."


    James stood motionless, mouth parted slightly in disbelief. He had so much to say, so many emotions flooding his chest, but not a single word made it past his throat.


    Eleanor chuckled lightly. "Alright then, Mr. Reincarnation. If you don¡¯t have anything more to say, we¡¯ll take our leave."


    Without waiting for a response, she turned and strolled gracefully back to the banquet hall, Florence following behind like a silent shadow.


    Her n had worked.


    She had achieved precisely what she wanted: to disarm and confuse him. To create distance. She had noticed James the moment she entered the banquet, lurking near the edge of the crowd like a predator watching its prey. She knew the Whitmores only wanted her because of her mother¡¯spany. James was impulsive and predictable. All she had to do was wait.


    By pretending not to recognize him, she had bought herself some time.


    There would be a reckoning. But not now. There were more urgent matters to attend to.


    Back in the hallway, James remained frozen for several minutes, unable to digest what had just happened. She looked like Eleanor, sounded like Eleanor... but this woman was a stranger.


    A woman with no past.


    What had happened to her after she left the house? How had she changed sopletely? How had she ended up in the arms of Edward Miller, of all people?


    A thousand questions swirled in his head... each one more maddening than thest.


    But he had no answers. The only person who could possibly tell him anything... was Edward. And asking him about his mistress was beyond awkward.


    His phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him out of his spiralling thoughts. It was one of his friends from inside the banquet.


    He answered the call.


    "James, where the hell are you? What took you so long?" came a teasing voice.


    James sighed. "Sorry. My stomach¡¯s acting up. I was in the restroom. I think I need to see a doctor. I¡¯ll be leaving now."


    A pause, then a chuckle. "Really? Or did you find a chick and ditch us?"


    "I wouldn¡¯t lie about this. I¡¯m serious... I feel terrible."


    "Alright, alright. Go rest. See youter," the friend said, ending the call.


    James exited the venue quietly. He hade in Benjamin¡¯s car, so he called a taxi and headed home... his mind still haunted by Eleanor¡¯s smile and the hollowness in her eyes.


    Inside the banquet hall, Eleanor and Florence returned just in time for the keynote speeches by GMITCC leaders. A few awards were handed out by the Chamber, followed by avish banquet dinner apanied by a live opera performance. The event ended without any further interruptions.


    There was aworking and dessert session scheduled afterward, but neither Edward nor Eleanor was interested in idle chatter.


    As they stepped outside, Edward called his driver to bring the car to the entrance.


    While they waited, Grayson finally mustered the courage to speak.


    "Chairman Miller," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I... I need some help with my business."


    Edward raised an eyebrow. "Help?"


    "I don¡¯t mean money," Grayson rified quickly. "Just... some work. Even if the profit is low, I..."


    Eleanor cut him off. "What¡¯s the name of yourpany?"


    The sudden question stunned him into silence.


    Edward turned to him and asked again, "You heard her. What¡¯s yourpany¡¯s name?"


    Snapping out of his daze, Grayson blurted, "Failsworth Construction Materials Limited."


    Eleanor pulled out her phone from her clutch and made a call.


    "Jack, Failsworth Construction Materials Limited is now under my protection. Help them as soon as possible."


    She hung up and turned to Grayson. "Keep your phone on. Someone will contact you shortly."


    She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. "What¡¯s the boy¡¯s name?"


    Grayson blinked, confused. "Sorry, I don¡¯t..."


    "The boy bothering your daughter," she rified curtly.


    This time, Florence stepped in. "Luke Baxter," she said quickly.


    Without missing a beat, Eleanor spoke to the air as if someone unseen was listening. "Ophelia, I want Luke Baxter¡¯s leg tonight."


    At that exact moment, Edward¡¯s car arrived at the gate.


    Eleanor walked to the car and slid inside, calm as ever. Edward followed close behind.


    As the car sped away into the night, the stunned husband and wife remained rooted to the spot, staring at the now-empty driveway in disbelief.

 Chapter 80: Before Midnight

    <h4>Chapter 80: Before Midnight</h4>


    Under the soft neon glow of the city streets, Edward¡¯s luxury car glided smoothly through the quiet roads. Inside, he sat in silence, asionally casting a nce at the young woman beside him.


    The shifting colours of billboards and streetlights outside painted a kaleidoscope across Eleanor¡¯s face, casting fleeting patterns over her wless skin. For a moment, Edward found her presence almost surreal... calm, beautiful, distant. She looked like a goddess lost in thought, untouchable under the moonlit mour of the night.


    After a long silence, Edward finally voiced the question that had been weighing on his mind.


    "Miss Raynor... how did you know about Grayson?"


    Eleanor chuckled lightly but didn¡¯t turn to look at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the passing streets outside.


    "Mr. Miller," she said in a calm, almost amused tone, "I¡¯m a cautious person. When twoplete strangers I¡¯ve never seen before suddenlye up to me and start serving me without hesitation... do you think I¡¯d just sit still and enjoy their attention?"


    She paused, then continued, her tone sharpening slightly, "Naturally, I ordered a background check. It didn¡¯t take long to uncover the truth. They came to the banquet specifically for you. Without your help, theirpany is bound to go bankrupt in a matter of days."


    She nced at him briefly before adding, "I assumed you might have known Grayson from before. They figured that by impressing me, they could get to you. And to be honest, they weren¡¯t wrong. You probably would have helped them eventually."


    Edward nodded slowly. That much seemed reasonable.


    Eleanor let out a lightugh and added, "But how could I sit back and allow someone who served me to be rewarded by you? That would be a disgrace to my name. That¡¯s why I stepped in."


    Edward leaned back in his seat, brow furrowed. "Still," he said cautiously, "you didn¡¯t need to go so far as to teach that boy a lesson. I mean... it might just be a lover¡¯s quarrel. You might¡¯ve made things harder for the family."


    Eleanor finally turned her head, meeting his gaze squarely. Her eyes were clear, cold, and unwavering.


    "Mr. Miller, you truly know very little about me. I am neither phnthropic nor impulsive. I don¡¯t act without reason."


    She continued, voice level, "That Baxter boy proposed to Grayson¡¯s daughter. She rejected him. Now, he¡¯s using his family¡¯s power to pressure Grayson¡¯spany, threatening their livelihood... unless the girl agrees to apany him for a few days. That isn¡¯t love. That¡¯s coercion. That¡¯s a scumbag."


    Edward looked troubled, unsure of how to respond.


    Eleanor added calmly, "And yes, you¡¯re right... I didn¡¯t have to go that far. But I chose to. Not for the boy¡¯s sake... but to make an example."


    She turned her gaze back to the window, her voice dropping an octave.


    "Grayson¡¯s family doesn¡¯t know me yet. But after tonight, they will fear me like they fear death itself."


    Edward frowned. "You¡¯re helping them through such a critical time. They should be grateful to you... not afraid."


    "As I said," Eleanor replied smoothly, "you don¡¯t understand me. In the kingdom I rule, the queen doesn¡¯t need love, respect, gratitude, devotion, or adoration."


    She turned back to him, her voice steady and chilling. "I demand only three things... loyalty, obedience, and fear."


    She looked away again and added, "By tomorrow morning, you¡¯ll understand."


    A heavy silence fell inside the car.


    Edward didn¡¯t say another word. There was nothing more to say. The woman sitting beside him wasn¡¯t just clever... she was formidable.


    The car continued in silence until they reached Eleanor¡¯s gated vimunity.


    ***


    Meanwhile, back outside the banquet venue, Grayson and Florence stood in stunned silence. The evening had taken such a surreal turn that neither of them knew what to say.


    Just then, Grayson¡¯s phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the silence. He fumbled to answer the call, still a little dazed.


    "Hello?" he said.


    "Am I speaking with Mr. Grayson Marsh, Chairman of Failsworth Construction Materials Limited?" a calm, professional voice asked from the other end.


    "Yes, speaking," Grayson replied, trying to remainposed. "May I know who¡¯s calling?"


    "I¡¯m calling from Purplebricks Limited. You are expected at our head office tomorrow morning at 9 a.m. Please give your name at the front desk when you arrive. If you need assistance, you may call this number."


    Grayson blinked, stunned. "May I ask...?"


    "And Mr. Marsh," the voice interrupted. "Don¡¯t forget to thank Miss Raynor."


    Then the line went dead.


    Grayson stared at his phone, dumbfounded.


    Florence, noticing the change in his expression, asked quickly, "What happened? Who was it?"


    Grayson took a moment to find his voice. "That was from Purplebricks... They want me toe in tomorrow morning."


    He let out a stunnedugh. "Miss Raynor really did it. I... I can¡¯t believe she made that call to Purplebricks."


    Florence¡¯s eyes lit up. "Isn¡¯t the CEO of Purplebricks also a Raynor?"


    Grayson nodded, finally snapping out of his daze. "Ethan Raynor. That¡¯s right! Of course, how could I forget that? Wife, you¡¯re brilliant!"


    His voice rose with excitement. "We¡¯re saved. We¡¯re really saved!"


    Florence sped her hands in gratitude, tears brimming in her eyes. "Thank God... Let¡¯s go home and tell the others. They¡¯ll be so relieved."


    Minutester, Grayson started the car and sped toward home. In the passenger seat, Florence was already on the phone with their children, her voice trembling with joy as she shared the good news.


    ***


    In a private vi on the other side of the city, James Clifford had returned home unusually early. He¡¯d asked the maid to bring him something to drink.


    She returned shortly after and informed him there was only beer in the house.


    He considered sending someone out for whiskey or something stronger, but in the end, he waved the idea off. "Beer will do," he muttered.


    When she started to serve him, he stopped her. The young woman was his favourite maid... intelligent, beautiful, with a well-proportioned figure. He had slept with her many times in the past.


    But tonight... tonight she disgusted him.


    Compared to the dignified, radiant Eleanor who had taken over his thoughts, the sight of the maid pouring his drink felt like a cruel joke. It made his skin crawl.


    "That old bastard is probably enjoying Eleanor in his bed right now," James thought bitterly. "And I¡¯m stuck with this lowly woman?"


    His heart twisted with envy and rage.


    He waved the maid away, his voice sharp. "Tell everyone not to disturb me tonight. I want to be alone."


    Now, he sat on the floor of his bedroom in the dim light of a singlemp. A half-empty beer bottle dangled from his hand. More empty bottles were scattered around him.


    He looked like a man unravelling.


    "Eleanor..." he mumbled aloud. "How could you forget everything and still live like a queen?"


    Images of her haunted him... her graceful smile, her effortless charm, the way she carried herself like royalty.


    He cursed and downed more beer.


    No matter what he did, he couldn¡¯t push her out of his mind. One moment he fantasized about her... aching with desire... and the next, he burned with fury as visions of her wrapped in Edward Miller¡¯s arms shed before him.


    Thebination of heartbreak and humiliation was unbearable.


    Eventually, the alcohol caught up with him. With a final groan, James copsed sideways onto the cold floor, unconscious. The room fell silent, save for the asional clink of a rolling bottle.

 Chapter 81: The Leg Tale

    <h4>Chapter 81: The Leg Tale</h4>


    For the first time in what felt like ages, Grayson slept peacefully through the night. After recounting everything that had happened at the GMITCC banquet to his family, it was well past midnight by the time he finally crawled into bed. He had hoped to sleep until seven in the morning... just enough time to get ready for the crucial meeting at Purplebricks at nine.


    But life, as always, had different ns.


    At five in the morning, his wife, Florence, gently shook him awake. Her voice was calm, but her expression was unreadable. Grayson groaned, irritation bubbling under his skin, "What happened? It¡¯s still early..."


    Florence didn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries. "Someone cut off Luke Baxter¡¯s legst night."


    The words hung in the air like smoke.


    Still caught in the fog of sleep, Grayson didn¡¯t fully grasp what she¡¯d said. But his instincts told him it was serious. He sat bolt upright, rmed. "Who?"


    "That bastard Luke Baxter," Florence said tly. "It¡¯s all over the news. Someone chopped off one of his legs. The news has made headlines."


    Grayson scrambled out of bed and rushed to the lounge. "Let¡¯s check the news. I need to see this for myself."


    The television was already on when they entered, but the presenter had moved on to another segment.


    "Did you actually see it?" Grayson asked while adjusting the volume.


    "Yes," Florence replied. "It was the first headline when I turned it on. As soon as I heard it was Luke, I went to wake you."


    They sat on the couch, eyes glued to the screen, watching national news segments roll past. Ten minutester, their patience was rewarded.


    The anchor¡¯s voice turned grave: "Latest night, at approximately 11 p.m., a young man exited a local Manchester bar with his girlfriend. While they were waiting on the curb for a ride, an unknown woman d entirely in ck approached and, in a brutal and precise motion, severed the young man¡¯s leg. Witnesses reported that she took the leg with her before fleeing the scene. The victim, now confirmed to be thirty-four-year-old Luke Baxter, was rushed to the hospital. His girlfriend is currently assisting police with their investigation."


    The report continued: "Security footage from surrounding establishments was unavable due to intentional damage to nearby cameras shortly before the attack. The police are currently working under the assumption that the assant might be a former lover, as Luke Baxter is known to have had several girlfriends in the past."


    Grayson and Florence stared at the screen in stunned silence.


    After what felt like minutes, Grayson broke the silence. "Do you think...?"


    Florence didn¡¯t even let him finish. "I¡¯m sure of it. Don¡¯t you remember what she said before getting into the carst night?"


    Grayson¡¯s face paled as he recalled the cold, chilling voice: "I want Luke Baxter¡¯s leg tonight."


    He shivered.


    Florence continued, her voiceced with awe and fear. "Last night, when Miss Raynor went to the restroom, another woman entered shortly after. I waited outside, but soon after, I heard ss shattering and rushed in. The girl was on the floor, and several men in ck had surrounded her. Miss Raynor calmly asked me to leave. A few minutester, she walked out as if nothing had happened."


    Grayson asked, "And you think those men were her people?"


    "She didn¡¯t have a spare gown with her. But when she came out, she was wearing a different dress. Where did the new onee from? And what happened to the old one? We were with her all night. I never saw her make a call or send a message. It was like they already knew exactly what she¡¯d need and when. That level of preparation... it¡¯s terrifying. And did you see how respectful Chairman Miller was to her?"


    Grayson nodded solemnly. "Thank you, dear. I believe it now. It was her."


    Florence ced a hand on his shoulder. "But we shouldn¡¯t dwell on that. What happened has nothing to do with us. You need to focus on today¡¯s meeting with Purplebricks. Just because they invited you doesn¡¯t mean they¡¯ll offer anything substantial. They already have other suppliers. It¡¯s your job to prove yourself."


    Grayson let out a long breath. "You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll give it everything I¡¯ve got."


    Just then, a terrified scream echoed from upstairs.


    Both Grayson and Florence shot to their feet and bolted toward their daughter¡¯s room. When they entered, they found Jessica standing in a corner, trembling and covering her eyes, her lips moving in panicked prayer.


    "Jesus, help me! Lord God, protect me!"


    Grayson¡¯s heart dropped. "Jessica! What happened?"


    Recognizing her father¡¯s voice, Jessica peeled her hands away from her eyes and ran into his arms, sobbing uncontrobly.


    Florence hugged her daughter tightly. "Shh, baby. It¡¯s okay. Tell us what happened."


    Through sniffles, Jessica pointed at her dressing table.


    Grayson and Florence turned to look... and their blood ran cold.


    There, ced neatly on the vanity, was a human leg. It had been carefully wrapped in transparent cling wrap, preserving it like some grotesque piece of art.


    Grayson stared in disbelief. "Do you think...?"


    Florence nodded, equally shaken. "Yes. It¡¯s exactly what we think."


    Grayson handed Jessica to her mother and walked over for a closer look. Beside the leg was a small, folded note.


    It read:


    "A gift from my Madam. If you¡¯ve enjoyed enough, unwrap and pour the contents of the bottle onto the gift. It will melt, then sh to the sewerage line."


    Grayson let out a dry, humourlessugh. "¡¯Gift¡¯? ¡¯Enjoy¡¯?"


    He turned and handed the note to Florence, who read it with visible unease.


    "Jessica," Grayson asked gently, "is there a bottle on the table that doesn¡¯t belong to you?"


    Jessica wiped her tears and hesitantly looked at the dressing table. "That white bottle... I¡¯ve never seen it before."


    Grayson nodded grimly. "Wife, let¡¯s deal with this. We can¡¯t keep it in the house."


    ***


    Across the city, news of Luke Baxter¡¯s brutal maiming spread like wildfire.


    In his private vi, James Clifford was passed out on the floor, surrounded by empty beer bottles. A call from one of his fellow rich yboys jolted him awake. Groaning, he picked up the phone, nursing a splitting headache.


    "James! You heard the news?" his friend blurted. "It¡¯s Luke... he¡¯s been attacked. A woman cut off his leg. They were just leaving a bar with his new girlfriend when it happened... right in front of everyone. And get this... she took the leg with her!"


    James sat in stunned silence, the headache worsening. He didn¡¯t respond.


    "Hello? James? Are you listening?"


    But James couldn¡¯t find the appropriate words.

 Chapter 82: Hundred Rape Case

    <h4>Chapter 82: Hundred Rape Case</h4>


    In the luxurious hall of a grand vi, the atmosphere was thick with tension. An elderly man, clearly the patriarch of the household, sat sternly on the main seat of the hall. His back was straight, his expression thunderous, and his eyes burned with restrained fury. In front of him stood a middle-aged man with his head bowed low, shoulders stiffened under the weight of shame. Around them, several men and women stood silently, maintaining a careful distance from the confrontation.


    The old man suddenly erupted, his voice booming through the hall.


    "How did you raise such a bastard? Tell me! Didn¡¯t you know what kind of son you were bringing up? Did you ever do your duty as a parent? Look at this mess!" His voice cracked near the end, and the fury seemed to overwhelm him... his chest heaved, and he started coughing violently.


    A middle-aged woman rushed to his side in rm. "Dad, please calm down," she said softly, handing him a ss of water. He took a few sips, and gradually, the coughing subsided.


    Trying to bring some control to the situation, she continued, "We¡¯re all doing our best to find the woman who attacked Luke. She was clever enough to disable all the CCTV cameras in the area before the incident. But we¡¯vepiled a list of all the women who could¡¯ve possibly held a grudge against him. Eyewitnesses gave us a partial description. We¡¯re narrowing it down... we¡¯ll find her soon."


    The old man mmed his fist on the armrest, his eyes now bloodshot with fury. "You¡¯re missing the point! There are over a hundred names on that list. One hundred! Do you hear me?" His voice broke with disgust. "How could our family raise such a beast? A monster! Honestly, I wouldn¡¯t me that woman if she came back and took his other leg too."


    He broke into another coughing fit, this one harsher than before. This time, a trace of blood stained the handkerchief he brought to his mouth. Panic erupted in the room as family members rushed to support him, their faces painted with fear and disbelief.


    ***


    Meanwhile, in a serene courtyard surrounded by flourishing greenery and fragrant flowers, a schrly-looking man in his fifties sat in a garden chair. Dressed neatly in a traditional robe, he calmly sipped his morning tea while listening to his secretary, who stood before him, reciting a detailed report.


    After the reporting ended, the man slowly set his teacup down and asked in aposed voice, "You¡¯re certain the patriarch of the Baxter family is in the ICU?"


    "Yes, sir," the secretary replied. "I confirmed it personally. One of my friends works at the hospital. The old man copsed after learning the truth about his grandson."


    "Good," the man said, nodding with quiet satisfaction. "Our time has finallye. Arrange a press conference for those three women... today. But each must speak at a different time and location. I want the headlines filled with only one name... Luke Baxter. From dawn to dusk."


    "Understood, Boss," the secretary replied without hesitation.


    The man narrowed his eyes. "Tell me, were any of those three women¡¯s names included in the list of suspects the police made?"


    "Two of them were," the secretary confirmed. "The third wasn¡¯t."


    "Perfect," the man said, the edge of a smirk touching his lips. "Leak the list to the media. Frame it as an internal document from the police department... make it look official. Say these were the women Luke Baxter assaulted and that his family silenced them. Let them burn in their own lies."


    "Yes, Boss. I¡¯ll handle it immediately," the secretary replied before leaving the courtyard.


    Now alone, the man looked around the peaceful garden as if absorbing strength from the nature surrounding him. He adjusted his sses and tilted his head toward the sky.


    "Emily... forgive your father," he whispered softly. "I failed to protect you. I let you wander into the world without teaching you about the animals disguised as men. I should¡¯ve warned you... not every smile is kind, not every hand is safe. I thought I was giving you freedom... but I sent you unarmed into a battlefield you didn¡¯t even know existed."


    His voice cracked, but he continued, "I should¡¯ve asked more questions, looked deeper into your eyes, held you tighter, longer. But I promise you, my child... your dad will avenge you. Tell your mother I¡¯ll join her soon... but only after I bring down the Baxter family. And even if the gods try to stop me, I will defy the gods."


    His voice dropped to a soothing tone, as though he were lulling a child to sleep. "Just remember... your dad always loved you."


    A few silent tears escaped his eyes. He gently removed his sses, dabbed his cheeks with a handkerchief, and then, with deliberate calm, resumed sipping his tea as though nothing had happened.


    ***


    By office time, the media had exploded.


    News of the so-called "Hundred Rape Case" had hit the public like a storm. Until the morning, people had been split in opinion... some were shocked by the brutality of the mysterious woman in ck who severed Luke Baxter¡¯s leg, while others questioned whether the act had been justified. But the revtion that Luke had allegedly vited over a hundred women turned the tide entirely.


    At first, one little known online news portal named this situation "Hundred Rape Case" to attract more traffic. But this phrase caught the eyes of some inte celebrities. Soon, the name swept across the inte.


    Enraged citizens flooded social media with demands for justice. Comments, hashtags, and reposts surged by the minute. People no longer saw Luke as a victim, but as the predator he had long hidden behind wealth and privilege.


    News stations began rolling out special segments. Talk shows cancelled other topics just to discuss the scandal. Netizens resurrected an old article by aw professor written years ago... an expos¨¦ on how convicted rapists were being granted parole far too easily over time, despite life sentences being the norm. The article, almost forgotten, now trended on every tform.


    One user posted the article link under a viral news thread, saying, "This is why monsters like Luke Baxter walk free. Enough is enough! Reform the justice system."


    Soon, the professor himself... once a little-known academic, was thrust into the national spotlight. Reporters lined up at his doorstep. TV studios offered him live interviews. Within hours, he became a public figure, a reluctant voice for justice.


    Online polls popped up everywhere: "Should parole be abolished for rapists?" "Should the Baxter family be tied for obstruction of justice?" "Should the mystery woman be hailed a hero?"


    Leaders of women¡¯s rights organizations seized the moment. Using their media connections, they appeared in studios, shared stories of countless survivors, and condemned the judicial loopholes that let Luke continue his atrocities for so long.


    The media frenzy only intensified.


    What began as a brutal street incident had transformed into a national reckoning... a societal outcry against everything wrong with the justice system.


    ***


    Amid this whirlwind of outrage and awakening, the person who had unknowingly lit the match to this firestorm was sound asleep in her soft bed, undisturbed by the chaos unravelling across the kingdom.


    With no Freya around to prepare her morning routine, she woke upte... just past eight. Stretchingzily, she yawned and casually checked the time before calling her team.


    She quickly dressed and made her way to the airport, where her shadow team awaited her. Without dy, she boarded her private Gulfstream G650. Afterpleting the necessary formalities, the engines roared to life, and the aircraft took to the skies, bound for Nigeria.

 Chapter 83: Happy Cooperation

    <h4>Chapter 83: Happy Cooperation</h4>


    The Gulfstream G650 touched down at Maiduguri International Airport at 3:50 PM local time, twenty minutes behind schedule. The afternoon sun bathed the tarmac in a golden glow, casting long shadows from the aircraft as it taxied to a stop.


    As Eleanor descended from the aircraft, she pulled out her phone to contact her Bultungin n liaison. But before she could dial, two sharply dressed men in charcoal-grey suits and ssic red ties approached with confident strides. They halted a few steps away, bowed politely, and greeted her.


    "Wee, Miss Raynor. Wee to Nigeria."


    Eleanor responded with equal respect. cing her palm over her chest, she gave a slight bow... a traditional Werewolf custom when meeting influential elders or leaders.


    "Thank you," she said warmly. "I hope my visit isn¡¯t causing any inconvenience."


    Both men chuckled lightly.


    "Not at all," one of them said. "I am Edem Kacha."


    "And I am Taiwo Kacha," added the other.


    Eleanor nodded. "It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you both. I am Eleanor Raynor."


    Edem gestured toward a nearby helicopter, its des spinning slowly as the engine idled. "Then let¡¯s not waste time. Our n Head is waiting for you. That¡¯s our ride."


    She followed their lead toward the chopper, her expression calm but observant. Edem, walking slightly ahead, nced back. "Aren¡¯t your guards apanying you?"


    Eleanor offered a faint smile. "I¡¯m fine. Let¡¯s not keep your n Head waiting."


    Edem and Taiwo exchanged a nce but said nothing more as they led her aboard.


    Forty minutester, the helicopter descended onto a private ind in the middle of Lake Chad. As Eleanor stepped off, the lush greenery surrounding a grand pce immediately caught her attention. The air was thick with the scent of moisture and exotic flowers. She nced around... judging by the treetop level and the breeze, they were on elevatednd, likely a hill ttened to amodate the pce structure.


    "This way, Miss Raynor," Edem said, beckoning her forward.


    She followed them into the pce. As soon as she stepped inside, her breath caught. The main hall was a stunning exhibition of wealth and craftsmanship.


    Towering golden columns lined the walls, each encrusted with rare gemstones... emeralds, sapphires, and rubies. The marble floor shimmered beneath her feet, the surface iid with intricate patterns made of crystals. A dozen crystal chandeliers hung above, casting dazzling reflections in all directions.


    At the far end, a golden throne rested atop a ck marble dais, its frame sparkling with diamonds beneath a velvet covering embroidered with stars.


    Seated on the throne was an old man with long grey hair draped over his shoulders. His icy blue eyes watched her calmly. He wore a wide, sleeveless white gown embroidered with metallic thread made of real gold, and beneath that, full-sleeved tunic and trousers.


    He looked less like a n leader and more like a king of old.


    The two men apanying her bowed from a respectful distance and stepped away, leaving Eleanor alone before the dais. She walked forward confidently, stopping about twenty feet from the throne. Again, she ced her palm on her chest and bowed respectfully.


    "Junior Eleanor Raynor pays respect to n Head Bultungin."


    The old man gave a faint nod. His deep voice resonated through the hall. "Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, I am Ooduwa Bultungin Kacha. Wee to my humble abode."


    Eleanor suppressed a chuckle. "Humble?" she thought, sneaking a nce at the extravagance around her. "If this is humble, what does luxury look like?"


    Composing herself, she replied with practiced politeness. "Thank you, Elder. It¡¯s an honour to meet the esteemed head of the Bultungin n."


    She also took note that he¡¯d used her full name, including her middle name. It didn¡¯t surprise her. Someone of his influence likely had ess to information even her own n kept guarded.


    Ooduwa slowly rose from his throne. He was tall... easily over six feet... and though age had lined his face, there was amanding sharpness in his gaze that made Eleanor instinctively stand straighter.


    "Time," he began, his voice carrying the weight of centuries, "is a river that only flows one way. In our youth, we leap into it headfirst... drunk with the thrill of the current, convinced we can ride it forever. We wage wars, chase dreams, build empires... all while believing the sun will never set on our strength."


    His voice lowered, gaining intensity. "We see the world with fire in our veins. We believe time is loyal... stretching endlessly before us like a golden road. That is the curse of the long-lived... We think we have forever."


    He took a step down the dais, each word resonating deeper. "But time doesn¡¯t strike like a storm. It seeps... slowly, silently. It does not rob your strength, but your urgency. One day, you wake up and centuries are behind you. The empires you built are dust, and all the glory you chased... crumbles like sand in your hands."


    He paused at the final step, looking directly at Eleanor. "When I was like you, I believed a thousand years meant a thousand chances. Now I know it just gives me more time to regret the ones I wasted."


    A thick silence followed. Eleanor wasn¡¯t sure what messagey behind his words. But for now, she decided to remain respectful.


    "Thank you for your wisdom," she said softly.


    Ooduwa studied her for a moment, then gave a short nod.


    "I know you didn¡¯t fly across continents just for pleasantries. Let us speak privately. Ask your guards to leave."


    Eleanor instantly understood... he was referring to the shadow guards hidden in her surroundings.


    "I understand," she replied without hesitation. "Guards, leave us."


    Without a sound, her shadow guards vanished, melting into the walls like whispers in the wind.


    The old man smiled. "The Raynor n is fortunate to have such loyal protectors. I¡¯ve always admired your unity. Even scattered across the globe, the Werewolves maintain a powerful centralmand. We Hyenas... we struggle. Intelligence... we have, but unity?" He shook his head. "Our ancestors¡¯ greed remains etched into our bones."


    He took a step closer. "Now tell me, what is it that you truly seek?"


    Eleanor answered directly. "I wish to establish a private economic zone in Nigeria. But you are the gatekeeper here. I need your blessing before I proceed."


    Ooduwa chuckled. "You¡¯re different from Fiona. She would have said, ¡¯Guard my business and I¡¯ll give you this.¡¯ Straight to the point."


    He continued, "Still, it¡¯s all the same to us. But I like your approach. You speak with respect. So, let me offer you this... I want cooperation between our ns. Asting one. I know the Raynors will always make money. And I want to ride that wave. What do you say?"


    Eleanor didn¡¯t hesitate. "I agree... if the terms serve my interests."


    Ooduwa nodded approvingly. "Of course. My family controls much of West Africa. I want 10% share of all your future investments in any member country of the Economic Community of West African States. Naturally, I¡¯ll contribute my shares to the initial capital. You handle the business; I¡¯ll handle protection from external threats."


    Eleanor pondered for a moment, then responded. "I ept. But this agreement is with me personally... not with the Raynor n. Additionally, I want full governmental support across ECOWAS nations and assistance in handling anyplications I might face while operating in this region."


    Ooduwa smiled and descended fully from the dais. Standing before her, he extended his hand. "Then we have a deal."


    Eleanor took his hand in a firm shake. "Happy cooperation," she said.

 Chapter 84: The Black Revenger

    <h4>Chapter 84: The ck Revenger</h4>


    Eleanor finally understood what the head of the Bultungin n meant in his philosophical monologue about "time." His words weren¡¯t just wisdom... he had urged her to seize the opportunity before her, to act decisively before it slipped away. Otherwise, she might live to regret her inaction in old age.


    Understanding his true message, Eleanor chuckled inwardly. "What an interesting old man. All those poetic lines... just to get me to ept his deal."


    Ooduwa seemed pleased with the agreement they had reached. "You¡¯vee a long way," he said, his voice warm. "I¡¯ve prepared some light refreshments in the garden. Let¡¯s continue our conversation there."


    "Of course," Eleanor replied politely, following him through the pce.


    As they walked, Ooduwa pointed out various works of art that lined the corridor... his personal collection of priceless paintings. Eleanor suddenly remembered the gift she had brought for him.


    She raised her voice slightly, "Bring the gift I prepared to the garden."


    Ooduwa didn¡¯t question whom she had addressed. His intuition, honed by years of leadership, told him exactly what she meant.


    The pce garden was a breathtaking sight. An intricately designedndscape filled with blossoming flowers and exotic greenery greeted her. A light breeze rustled the leaves, adding a calming melody to the ambiance. Eleanor took a deep breath, instantly soothed by the peaceful surroundings.


    Ooduwa led her to a small round table shaded beneath a flowering tree. A silver tray bore a beautiful array of freshly cut tropical fruits and delicate pastries, along with bottles of fresh beverages.


    "Please," Ooduwa gestured toward the food, "help yourself."


    Just then, Sebastian walked to them and handed Eleanor a rectangr, ornately carved box. Without a word, he bowed and retreated again.


    Eleanor offered the box with both hands. "This is for you."


    Ooduwa opened the lid, and for the first time, a smile spread across his face. "A 1945 Domaine de Roman¨¦e-Conti," he read aloud, his voice tinged with genuine delight. "A very rare and thoughtful gift. Thank you."


    "You¡¯re wee," she replied with a nod.


    cing the bottle back inside the box, Ooduwa rested it carefully on the table and picked up a few slices of mango. "You already know Edem. He¡¯s in charge of our Nigerian business operations. You can coordinate your ventures through him. He¡¯s efficient and loyal."


    "Thank you for the arrangement," Eleanor replied. "My representative willnd in Abuja tomorrow. They will get in touch with Mr. Edem Kacha. I believe we can aplish great things together."


    They continued chatting casually for a few more minutes. Despite his earlier intensity, Ooduwa proved to be a gracious host. He even offered to host Eleanor for dinner. But she declined politely, citing her tight schedule.


    Before her departure, Ooduwa presented her with an extravagant gift, a custom-made gold jewellery set iid with wless diamonds.


    A helicopter brought her back to the airport, and she stepped into her Gulfstream G650 once more, ready to leave Nigeria.


    As the engines roared to life and the aircraft taxied for takeoff, Eleanor settled into her private cabin and called Freya. They chatted for over half an hour before she picked up herptop and began clearing her backlog of work.


    ***


    Back in the kingdom, the atmosphere was anything but calm.


    The entire day had been consumed by the fallout from the mysterious attack on Luke Baxter. The police had scoured every corner for a potential suspect among the women listed as Luke¡¯s former lovers, but they found nothing. None of the names matched the witness¡¯s descriptions, nor did their family members.


    With no leads, the investigators had to drop the theory that the assant was a vengeful ex-girlfriend.


    But this shift in direction only fed the mes online. The information had, unsurprisingly, leaked to the press. The anonymity of the attacker and theck of evidence gave rise to wild spection. Social media erupted with posts glorifying the ck-d woman as a modern-day vignte... an avenger of wronged women, a shadowy symbol of justice.


    In just one afternoon, the mysterious figure earned a name: The ck Revenger.


    Then things escted.


    Within a single hour, three separate women held press conferences in different cities. Each stood before cameras, holding DNA reports that proved Luke Baxter was the father of their children. They demanded justice and financial support, expressing sorrow over years of silence and abandonment.


    Public sympathy swayed strongly in their favour. Netizens spread the story like wildfire, dubbing the children as victims of Luke¡¯s recklessness.


    Meanwhile, the Baxter family spiralled into chaos. Their stock prices plummeted across the board. Longstanding business contracts were cancelled. Government agreements were quietly suspended. Investors pulled out in droves, unwilling to risk public bacsh.


    To make matters worse, the patriarch of the family remained in critical condition. Tensions rose within the family ranks. Many turned against Luke, ming him for dragging their name through the mud.


    Luke himself was left alone in his hospital bed, isted even from his own family. Nurses treated his wounds without warmth, cursing under their breath. Even they couldn¡¯t hide their disgust.


    That evening, as office workers returned home, a new surprise emerged... someone had created a four-page superheroic titled "The ck Revenger." Its story was simple: a ck masked woman who righted wrongs where the justice system failed. The viin was clear, a powerful man who used his status to destroy women¡¯s lives.


    Theic went viral.


    Soon, it was discovered that the creator of this miniic was a celebrated American artist who had won the Eisner Award for Best Writer five times. With theicmunity now involved, the story exploded internationally.


    The Baxter scandal had officially gone global.


    ***


    Back in the sky, aboard the Gulfstream G650, Eleanor worked quietly in her private cabin. Her shadow guards, with nothing urgent to do, began checking their phones.


    ric was the first to notice the viralic. His eyes widened as he skimmed the panels. "Guys," he whispered, calling the others over.


    They huddled around his phone, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Ophelia, their silent assassin, had just be a global superhero.


    Last night, they killed nine assassins who hade to kill their boss. It took them the whole night to locate and eliminate all of them, while Ophelia just chopped off one leg and turned it into such big news.


    They knocked on Eleanor¡¯s door.


    She nced up from herptop. "Come in."


    They filed in and showed her theic and the trending hashtag #ckRevenger.


    Eleanor stared for a moment, then simply nodded and returned to her work.


    Slightly disappointed by herck of reaction, they left the room.


    But as the door closed behind them, a small smirk curved her lips.


    She understood why they¡¯de... to see her reaction, to share in the surrealness of the moment. But she had kept herposure. Her mind, however, was already racing with possibilities.


    The Baxter family had surely made powerful enemies over the years, she thought. Now those enemies saw an opening, and they were not holding back.


    As for Ophelia¡¯s unintended rise to fame, it was something even she hadn¡¯t foreseen.


    Then, a thought struck her.


    She pulled out her tablet and started searching. The Baxter family¡¯s real estate arm still held a number of valuable properties. One, in particr, caught her attention... a vimunity bordering NexaByte¡¯s new expansion site.


    "Interesting!"


    She kept scrolling. The rest of their holdings were unimpressive... gas stations, a supplypany, and a shopping mall.


    She ced a call to Teresa.


    "I want to join the party to dismantle the Baxter family," she said coolly. "Their shares dropped today. Start spreading the word... they¡¯re going bankrupt. Tomorrow, meet them and begin acquiring their properties. There¡¯s a vi area right next to NexaByte¡¯s call center. Secure it first."

 Chapter 85: A Day Together

    <h4>Chapter 85: A Day Together</h4>


    When Freya arrived at Ethan¡¯s vi, she was practically glowing with joy. The bond between a father and daughter is universally special. Most fathers would go to any length to fulfil their daughter¡¯s wishes... even to the extent of plucking the stars from the sky. Ethan was exactly that kind of father. He didn¡¯t just want to give Freya what she wanted; he needed to, as if making up for the lost time they had spent apart. The years he missed, not being by her side, drove him to go the extra mile.


    On the way to the vi, Ethan had practically bought every snack Freya pointed at. From sweet popcorn to sour candies, spicy chips to chocte-dipped marshmallows... he got it all. And true to her promise, Freya began munching on them the moment they entered the vi.


    Sittingfortably on a sofa, with a colourful fantasy animation ying on the big screen, Freya waspletely in her zone. She leaned against a cushion, her tiny feet dangling off the edge, her hands busy popping snacks into her mouth.


    Ethan sat beside her, quietly watching her with a soft smile. Every few bites, Freya would offer him something from her treasure trove of treats. "Try this one, Daddy. It¡¯s my favorite!" she chirped.


    So, there they sat... one big and one small, bonding over snacks and animated animals. Freya was so caught up in the happiness of being at her daddy¡¯s house that she forgot all the snack restrictions her mommy usually imposed. By the end of the movie, her belly was full and her eyelids heavy. She dozed off on the couch, hugging a half-eaten cookie.


    Ethan smiled fondly, then gently lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. Heid her down on the soft mattress and pulled theforter... one he had bought especially for Freya... over her small frame. She curled up like a kitten and drifted into a peaceful sleep.


    The next morning, Ethan dropped Freya off at school with a promise: "I¡¯ll pick you up after school and take you somewhere special."


    "Where?" she asked, eyes sparkling.


    "You¡¯ll see," he said with a wink.


    And he kept his promise.


    After school, Ethan took Freya to one of Manchester¡¯srgest indoor amusement parks, y Factore.


    As they stepped inside, the scent of buttered popcorn, sweet bubblegum, and fried chips greeted them. Laughter echoed through the air, mingled with the cheerful chaos of music, buzzing games, and excited children. Freya immediately slipped her hand into her father¡¯s, her eyes wide with wonder.


    "Are we really going to y everything, Daddy?" she asked, practically bouncing in her sneakers.


    Ethan smiled down at her. "You can try everything you want."


    "Even the big slides? The vertical drop one?" she asked, pointing.


    He raised an eyebrow. "If you¡¯re brave enough."


    "I was born brave!" she dered proudly, puffing up her tiny chest.


    Their adventure began with the multi-level y frame. Freya raced through rope bridges, swirled through twisting tunnels, and zipped down spiral slides like a lightning bolt. Ethan tried his best to keep up, always just behind her.


    "You¡¯re too fast! Go slowly!" he called.


    "Catch me if you can!" she giggled in reply, her voice echoing through the tunnels.


    At the spiral slide, theyunched themselves down side-by-side tubes, spinning through rings of neon lights. Freya screamed in pure delight. Ethanughed freely... something he hadn¡¯t done in a long time.


    They hit the foam pit at the bottom with a gentle thud. Freya popped up, grinning. "Again!"


    So they went again. And again. And again.


    The ruthless CEO of Purplebricks Limited had temporarily turned into a carefree child, all because of the joy radiating from his daughter. The shadow guards, discreetly following from a distance, exchanged surprised looks. None of them had ever seen this side of him.


    Then came the giant slide. y Factore¡¯s most popr attraction. But as they approached, a staff member gently stopped them.


    "Sir, children need to meet the height requirement," he said kindly. "I think your daughter might be a little younger for this ride."


    "What¡¯s the requirement?" Ethan asked.


    The man pointed to a sign. "Over 55 inches tall. You can measure her over there."


    Ethan turned to Freya. "We can¡¯t go on this one today, sweetheart. But we¡¯lle back when you¡¯re tall enough."


    Freya pouted but nodded reluctantly.


    To cheer her up, Ethan led her to the zip line area. As he stared at the long cable stretching across the y zone, he hesitated. But Freya misunderstood his pause.


    "Dad, don¡¯t be scared. It¡¯ll be fun," she said with an adorably serious face. She forgot her earlier disappointment.


    "Oh, I¡¯m terrified," Ethan said dramatically.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Dad. I¡¯ll protect you," she promised.


    His heart melted.


    Freya climbed into her harness like a tiny professional. When it was her turn, she zoomed across the y area with a wild cry of joy, her ponytail streaming behind her like a superhero¡¯s cape. Ethan gave the staff a thumbs-up and followed.


    Later, they shared a pizza in the caf¨¦ area. Freya chose the toppings... extra cheese, no mushrooms. She was surprisingly good at ordering, having done it many times with her mommy.


    Ethan gently wiped sauce from her cheek and asked, "So, what was your favourite part?"


    Freya swung her legs under the table. "All of it."


    Then she added, "Can we go to the climbing wall now?"


    "Of course," Ethan nodded.


    They tackled the wall like a team. Freya challenged Ethan to a race, and he yed along, allowing her to win. She reached the top in record time and looked down proudly.


    After that, they headed to the VR zone. This was Freya¡¯s domain. She grabbed the controller like a pro and began leading the way... shooting aliens, solving puzzles, and dancing in mini-games.


    "Daddy, go left!"


    "No, that¡¯s the wall!"


    "Daddy, you¡¯re so silly!"


    Ethanughed, genuinely enjoying his first VR experience under Freya¡¯s enthusiastic coaching. She loved ying the teacher.


    By the time they walked out of the park, the sky had turned a soft purple. Freya¡¯s eyes drooped, but her smile remained.


    "Did you enjoy yourself?" Ethan asked as he carried her toward the car.


    "The best," she murmured.


    "But they didn¡¯t let me go on the slide," she added with a pout.


    "Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll slide next time," he promised.


    "Really?"


    "Really."


    "When?"


    "Next time wee here."


    "Okay, Daddy. I believe you."


    He buckled her into the car seat. As the car travelled through the glittering streets of Manchester, Freya leaned her head against his shoulder and fell asleep, her breaths even and peaceful.


    Ethan nced down at her sleeping face, his heart full. Today, she had simply been a child... happy, carefree, and loved.


    When they arrived home, he gently carried her to her bed and tucked her in under theforter. He kissed her forehead softly. After turning off the lights, he walked out of the room.

 Chapter 86: Chloe Wilkinson

    <h4>Chapter 86: Chloe Wilkinson</h4>


    Eleanor returned to Manchester at midnight. She called Ethan and learned that Freya had already fallen asleep, so she decided not to disturb her. Instead, she went to her vi and nned to pick her up the next day after school.


    Early the next morning, Teresa was waiting outside to take her to the property management office. Now that all the surrounding vis had been purchased, they needed to choose a new design for the boundary walls to ensure consistency throughout the estate.


    The office was only a ten-minute walk from her vi, so they decided to stroll there together. The air was crisp, and the trees lining the path swayed gently in the morning breeze. The streets were quiet, save for the asional birdcall or passing cyclist.


    When they arrived, the office had just opened. Not all of the staff had reported for duty yet, and the front lobby was empty.


    Noticing new customers entering the premises, a sales assistant named Chloe Wilkinson quickly got up from her desk, her eyes lighting up with hope. She rushed to open the ss door with a warm, rehearsed smile.


    "Wee to Liberty Properties," she greeted cheerfully.


    But her smile faltered slightly when she saw there was no car parked out front. Still, observing their clothes... stylish, well-fitted, and clearly expensive than hers, she assumed they might at least be interested in purchasing a small apartment. And since she was the only sales assistant present at the moment, any sale would earn her themission.


    With that in mind, she gestured politely to the sofa. "Esteemed guests, please have a seat."


    Eleanor and Teresa sat down gracefully. Both women were strikingly beautiful, the kind who turn surrounding heads towards them effortlessly. Chloe handed them each a glossy brochure and asked with a customer-friendly smile, "We offer everything from studio apartments to luxury vis. Since you both look quite young, may I ask... would you prefer a studio or perhaps a family apartment?"


    As she spoke, she nced at Eleanor and did a double take. Something about her looked familiar.


    Before she could dwell on it further, Teresa, who had been typing a quick message to the property manager, looked up and said calmly, "We¡¯re not here to buy a house."


    "Not buying?" Chloe mumbled, disappointed. The light in her eyes dulled.


    Then it hit her... why the girl had looked familiar.


    She was Eleanor Whitmore, Chloe¡¯s former high school ssmate. But the transformation in Eleanor¡¯s appearance over the years had been so dramatic that Chloe hadn¡¯t recognized her at first.


    Now, realization donned her, followed swiftly by jealousy and hatred.


    Eleanor looked even more beautiful than she had in school. There was a poised elegance and quiet confidence about her that Chloe found infuriating. That effortless charm made Chloe feel instantly inferior, just as it had years ago.


    A surge of bitterness twisted in her chest.


    Back in high school, Eleanor had been the shining star... wealthy, elegant, and always surrounded by friends. As the second young miss of the prestigious Whitmore family, she nevercked attention or money. ssmates gravitated toward her, and her presence couldmand a room.


    Chloe had longed to be the center of attention, too. She had worked hard to be the ss captain, hoping leadership would earn her admiration. But her efforts had been overshadowed by Eleanor¡¯s effortless poprity.


    The final blow to Chloe¡¯s fragile pride came when she found out that James Clifford, the boy she had secretly loved, was dating Eleanor. She had spent years yearning for him, trying to gain his attention, but James had barely spared her a nce.


    Even after he graduated, James woulde back just to see Eleanor.


    Chloe had watched from a distance, quietly noting how disappointed James always seemed when talking to Eleanor. One day, after witnessing the two argue outside school, she saw Eleanor storm off in anger.


    Sensing an opportunity, Chloe approached James. To her surprise, he actually spoke to her that day. They walked down the street together, shared snacks, and for the first time, Chloe felt a glimmer of hope. He was kind, even more charming than she thought.


    Later that night, James invited her to a hotel.


    She hadn¡¯t hesitated.


    Inside the room, when James kissed her for the first time, Chloe felt like she was flying in the sky. They talked, ordered room service, and eventually, things turned intimate. In her na?ve excitement, she had pinned him to the bed, acting out every romantic fantasy she¡¯d ever imagined.


    It was a night of passion she thought would change her life.


    But the next morning, when she shyly asked if they could be together, if he would finally choose her over Eleanor... James¡¯s face turned cold.


    "Are you worthy?" he said with disgust.


    He picked up his wallet and threw a stack of bills, a mere thousand pounds, on the table before walking out of the room without looking back.


    She had been nothing more than a disposable fling.


    Chloe had cried for hours in that hotel room. She had lost her virginity, her pride, and her illusions for just a thousand pounds.


    And still, she had lost to Eleanor.


    That incident was near the end of their school days. After that, Chloe had nned to publicly humiliate Eleanor at the ss farewell party, but Eleanor hadn¡¯t shown up. After that, they had never crossed paths... until today.


    Now, face to face with the woman she had hated for so long, Chloe seethed inwardly. She had convinced herselfter that James had drugged her that night, that it hadn¡¯t been her fault. Otherwise, she wouldn¡¯t have acted like that on her first time.


    Seeing Eleanor now... more graceful andposed than ever... rekindled every ounce of rage and insecurity Chloe had buried over the years.


    She debated whether tosh out, but reminded herself that this was still her workce. Yet her pent-up frustration needed an outlet.


    With a falsely sweet smile, she tilted her head and said, "Oh my! Isn¡¯t this the second young miss of the Whitmore family? I¡¯m so sorry I didn¡¯t recognize you earlier. I heard Jennifer kicked you out of the family. My condolences."


    Her voice was soft, almost sympathetic... but it urately hit the sore points of Eleanor¡¯s life.


    This was Chloe¡¯s gift... she could slice someone open using nothing but a polite tone and well-ced words.


    She continued, "What a vicious sister you have? Stole your boyfriend and still made him her fianc¨¦. I actually attended their engagement party. I didn¡¯t see you there, though. It was such a grand event. All the top-tier elites were there. There were cars I¡¯ve never even seen online... pure luxury. Something people like us can only dream of. I heard they¡¯re getting married next month."


    She paused for effect, then added, "By the way, how are you doing these days? It¡¯s been a few years since you were kicked out, hasn¡¯t it? At least you got your degree from a prestigious university. You had money back then. Unlike me, I had to start working early because of my family¡¯s financial issues. Life¡¯s so unfair for us poor folks, isn¡¯t it?"

 Chapter 87: The Liberty Properties

    <h4>Chapter 87: The Liberty Properties</h4>


    Despite Chloe¡¯s relentless attempts to provoke her, Eleanor remainedpletely unfazed. She didn¡¯t utter a word in response, her expression unreadable. To her, Chloe was just an old ssmate putting on a pitiful performance... a minor distraction while they waited for the manager to arrive. Until then, Chloe¡¯s drama was merely a way to pass the time.


    Chloe, however, wasn¡¯t done.


    "Did you manage to gather some decent savings?" she asked, eyes narrowing slightly. "I can offer you my employee discount, though I have to warn you, Liberty Properties might still be too expensive for you. As a former ssmate, I could try to get you the highest possible discount... but honestly, if you go next door, you¡¯ll find arger ce for the same price. The quality isn¡¯t quite as good, but it¡¯s budget-friendly. You could probably afford that."


    She paused, shing a rehearsed smile before adding, "I might even pull some strings to get you a deal over there."


    Chloe spoke in a toneced with false generosity. In her mind, she was now in a superior position to Eleanor. After all, she had bought a home for her family, while Eleanor was here... house-hunting like an ordinary person. It gave her a fleeting sense of power.


    "If you¡¯re looking to rent, you¡¯vee to the wrong ce," she said casually. "We don¡¯t offer rentals here. Come, let¡¯s go next door. I¡¯ll help you find something more affordable."


    Teresa finally spoke again, her patience thinning. "Miss, we didn¡¯te here to buy anything. We¡¯re here to meet someone."


    Chloe¡¯s excitement dulled slightly, though she quickly regained herposure and redirected her attention toward Eleanor.


    "You really don¡¯t remember me?" she asked, feigning surprise. "I¡¯m Chloe. Chloe Wilkinson. We were ssmates in high school. I was the ss captain... you must remember that!"


    Eleanor finally acknowledged her. "I remember you. And thank you for the offer," she replied tly, her face a mask of indifference.


    Teresa added helpfully, "We came to meet the manager."


    Just then, a voice called from the doorway, slightly out of breath. "That would be me."


    A middle-aged man with a protruding belly stepped into the room, wiping sweat from his brow. He had clearly rushed to the office.


    Chloe immediately straightened up. "Manager Thompson! Good morning," she said politely.


    Brandon Thompson nodded at her, catching his breath. He then walked over to Teresa and gave a slight bow.


    "Miss Li, apologies for the dy," he said respectfully.


    Teresa gestured toward Eleanor. "Mr. Thompson, this is my boss."


    Brandon turned to Eleanor and gave a deeper bow. "Wee to Liberty Properties, Miss. Please forgive me for keeping you waiting. Shall we move to my office?"


    He turned to Chloe. "Assistant Chloe, please send some refreshments to my office."


    Then, without another word, he led Eleanor and Teresa down the hallway.


    "Please, have a seat," Brandon offered as he gestured toward the two chairs opposite his desk.


    Eleanor and Teresa sat down, while Brandon settled into his own chair and beganying out several design drafts on the table.


    "These are the proposed designs for the boundary walls of the vi district," he exined. "Let me walk you through the pros and cons of each option."


    Eleanor reviewed the ns carefully. After a thorough discussion, she selected a design that included the incorporation of the road between the vis into a single, enclosed private space. Fortunately, this section of road was a dead-end and only served her properties. However, it would still require formal permission from the local municipality to close it off permanently.


    "I¡¯ll handle the permission," Eleanor said with calm authority.


    Brandon nodded. "Excellent. I¡¯ll have the necessary documents prepared for your signature."


    At that moment, Chloe entered the room quietly with a tray of snacks and tea. She ced it on the table with a respectful nod, her demeanour noticeably different from earlier. Without a word, she exited the room.


    While sipping tea and nibbling on pastries, Eleanor, Teresa, and Brandon finalized the details regarding construction timelines, cost estimates, and required permits. Once an agreement was reached, Eleanor stood up to leave.


    Brandon rose with them and apanied them toward the exit, along with Chloe and two other staff members. But as soon as they stepped outside, everyone froze in shock.


    A line of armed guards stood at attention near the entrance.


    Office workers nearby stopped what they were doing and stared as Eleanor and Teresa stepped into the middle vehicle of a ck Range Rover convoy. With a hum of engines, the convoy pulled away from Liberty Properties, leaving stunned employees in its wake.


    Brandon turned to Chloe, visibly puzzled.


    "Assistant Chloe," he said slowly, "earlier I saw you speaking with Miss Li¡¯s boss. What¡¯s your rtionship with her?"


    Caught off guard, Chloe blinked. "She was my ssmate in high school," she replied, her voice subdued. "I was the ss captain. She came from a rich family. We weren¡¯t... close. But surely ssmates."


    Brandon raised an eyebrow. "And how long have you been with thepany?"


    "Over five years," Chloe answered hesitantly.


    Brandon smiled. "Then congrattions on your promotion."


    Chloe¡¯s eyes widened. "Promotion?"


    "Yes," he said. "Head Office asked me to promote someone to Assistant Manager to oversee the Eastern Vi District. If you have no objections, I¡¯ll nominate you."


    Chloe was stunned. After years in the same position, with no promotions and little hope, she had all but given up. She had seen others... often less qualified and juniors get ahead, and knew exactly what some had to do for advancement. She had chosen peace and stability over ambition.


    Now, out of nowhere, this golden opportunity hadnded in herp.


    "I ept," she said slowly. "But... may I ask why?"


    Brandon gave a knowing smile. "You¡¯re in luck. Your ssmate just bought all ten vis in that district and intends to turn the entire area into her personal estate. We need someone she might trust... to liaise with her. If she¡¯s happy, we get more business. And who knows? You might find yourself in line for another promotion soon."


    With that, he walked back into his office.


    Chloe remained standing outside, frozen in disbelief.


    All it took was a chance meeting with Eleanor Whitmore... the girl she once envied and just mocked.


    ***


    Later, at Heimdall Tower.


    When Eleanor arrived at her office, her assistant Lily greeted her with an update.


    "Boss, Miss Aisha Bello is ready to depart for Nigeria. She¡¯s requested to meet with you before her flight."


    Eleanor nodded. "Send her in."


    A few minutester, Aisha entered the room and took a seat across from Eleanor.


    "So, Aisha, ready for your new adventure?" Eleanor asked with a gentle smile.


    Aisha hesitated. "I wouldn¡¯t call it an adventure I¡¯m looking forward to. I¡¯d have preferred almost any country besides Nigeria. My family still lives there, and the memories... aren¡¯t the best."


    Eleanor leaned back. "Don¡¯t worry. You won¡¯t be confined there. You might have to travel to other West African countries too. I met with the Kacha family yesterday and we made a deal. They¡¯ll handle security and local matters so you can focus on our projects."


    She added, "Within the economic zone, we hold the reins... not them. Your contact will be Edem Kacha. Once yound in Abuja, call him. He¡¯ll handle your security."


    Turning to Teresa, she said, "Share Edem¡¯s number with Aisha, and notify him of her flight schedule. They should escort her directly from the airport."

 Chapter 88: The Choice Among Contracts

    <h4>Chapter 88: The Choice Among Contracts</h4>


    After Aisha left the room, Eleanor listened carefully to the reports from her assistants, Teresa and Lily. Maya, who was currently busy with the Indian site, had sent her updates via online reports. Everything was progressing as nned, and for the moment, all her operations were running smoothly.


    "Teresa," Eleanor said, setting her pen down and leaning back in her chair. "It¡¯s time to visit Russia. Start making arrangements for my visit next week. I¡¯m not sure how long I¡¯ll need to stay there, so you will remain here to oversee the operations at headquarters."


    She paused briefly, then added, "Cassandra nc will be apanying me on this trip. Make sure she¡¯s prepared for the kind of business tours we conduct. I¡¯ll also be taking five guards. That should be sufficient."


    Teresa stood up promptly, her notepad in hand. "Understood. I¡¯ll begin the arrangements immediately."


    Lily also stood. "Boss, I¡¯ve got nothing more to report for now. I¡¯ll take my leave as well."


    Once both assistants had exited the room, Eleanor found herself alone in the quiet, sunlit office. She pulled out her mobile phone and tapped into the live stream of Freya¡¯s ssroom.


    The screen showed Freya sitting attentively among her ssmates while Miss Cooper, their teacher, stood at the front of the ss narrating a story. It was the well-known fable of the lion and the mouse from Aesop¡¯s collection.


    After finishing the story, Miss Cooper looked around and began asking the students what they had learned.


    "Seraphina Ashford," she called out, "what did you learn from this story?"


    Seraphina stood up and said thoughtfully, "Don¡¯t underestimate small animals... I guess?"


    "Good," the teacher replied with a warm smile. "Next, Paisley. What about you?"


    Paisley stood and offered, "Little animals can help big animals."


    "Very good. Freya, your turn. What did you learn?"


    Freya stood up confidently. "Even the smallest of us can make a big difference."


    "Excellent," Miss Cooper praised.


    Eleanor smiled faintly as she watched her daughter. Then she sighed and ced the phone down, turning her attention to the piled-up documents that needed her review. The only sound left in the room was the quiet tapping of her fingers on theptop keyboard.


    ***


    Meanwhile, Grayson Marsh was adjusting his suit and preparing for a crucial meeting at the Purplebricks headquarters, scheduled for 11 a.m. sharp. The day before, when he had visited the office, Chairman¡¯s secretary Mr. Jack Brown had handed him documents detailing three potential projects. Grayson was told to pick one.


    He had spent the entire evening poring over the proposals. The first was arge-scale project that required heavy investment... far beyond what hispany could afford at the moment. The second was a short-term project, more within their financial capacity and promising a good profit within three months. The third, however, was a five-year project with small but consistent investments, offering a steady stream of long-term returns.


    After long discussions with his family, Grayson had made his decision. They would go with the third option.


    Florence, his wife, helped straighten his tie as he got ready. "Did you follow the news about the Baxter family?"


    Grayson nodded. "Yes. Their stock is still dropping."


    "I saw something on social media. Someone imed the patriarch is in the ICU," she said in a hushed voice. "But I couldn¡¯t find it in any news."


    "Of course, they¡¯ll hide it," Grayson said. "A lot of their connections depend on the old man¡¯s influence. If he dies, their empire could copse."


    Florence looked pensive. "I never imagined two days ago, they¡¯d be facing bankruptcy. Now, we¡¯re being offered partnership opportunities by the number onepany in the region. Just by standing on the right side of a young woman... Everything changed."


    She sighed. "Why is she helping us to this extent?"


    Grayson shook his head. "I don¡¯t know. But her power far surpasses my imagination. I¡¯ve heard people say Ethan Raynor is the most ruthless businessman in Greater Manchester. I think Eleanor Raynor¡¯s ruthlessness far surpasses his."


    He added, "No one really knows her. At the banquet, aside from the Heimdall and NexaByte executives, nobody recognized her. She might be a level above the people we consider tycoons."


    Florence shivered. "I still can¡¯t forget that leg... How vicious must one be to casually send someone¡¯s severed leg as a gift? And the liquid... the way the entire leg dissolved... bones and all. If they killed someone and disposed of the body like that, no one would ever find a trace. Please, whatever happens, don¡¯t make her our enemy."


    Grayson ced his hand over hers gently. "I know. I still remember how calmly she gave the order for Luke¡¯s leg, like she was asking someone to buy groceries. Don¡¯t worry. I know exactly how to handle this."


    He checked the time. "I should get going. I don¡¯t want to bete."


    ***


    Back at Heimdall Tower, the day passed like any other for Eleanor. When the school day was about to end, she stepped out of her office to pick up Freya. As expected, Ethan¡¯s car was already parked in front of her elevator.


    The driver opened the door smoothly, and she slid into the backseat without a word.


    "How was your trip?" Ethan asked, ncing at her while closing hisptop.


    "It went well. Nothing unusual happened."


    "That¡¯s good," he said.


    "How was Freya?" she asked.


    "She was fine. You taught her well."


    Eleanor gave him a knowing look. "Though from your expression, I can already tell you gave her too many snacks."


    Ethan averted his eyes like a guilty child, refusing to answer.


    Soon, they arrived at the school. Ethan got out to fetch Freya. As he took her from Miss Cooper, he leaned down and whispered, "Your mommy found out about the snacks. Be on your best behaviour."


    Freya nodded and whispered back like a seasoned conspirator, "Okay, Daddy."


    Once in the car, Freya scrambled onto Eleanor¡¯sp. "Mommy! I missed you."


    Eleanor¡¯s heart softened instantly. "I missed you too, baby." She wrapped her arms around her daughter.


    After a few moments, Ethan gently moved Freya to her seat and secured her seatbelt. The car began its journey toward Eleanor¡¯s vi.


    Once mother and daughter were safely home, Ethan left to return to a meeting he had abandoned halfway earlier.


    ***


    Back at Purplebricks, Jack Brown was pacing anxiously in the hallway. A delegation from London had arrived for a high-stakes meeting, but Ethan had left halfway through, citing a family emergency... which Jackter realized was just the school pickup.


    More than an hour had passed, and the guests were growing impatient. Jack had tried everything from top-tier snacks to polite apologies, but tensions were rising.


    Unlike Eleanor, who relied heavily on her team, Ethan preferred to handle everything personally. Normally, this approach worked in the past. But ever since Eleanor¡¯s return to the Kingdom, his schedule had be chaotic, and increasingly stressful for Jack.


    As he turned in frustration, he suddenly spotted Ethan exiting the elevator.


    Jack nearly sprinted toward him like a man who¡¯d just seen his saviour.


    "Sir! Thank goodness you¡¯re back."


    Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Rx, Jack. Let¡¯s not keep them waiting."


    Jack exhaled in relief, straightened his zer, and followed his boss back into the meeting room.

 Chapter 89: Alpha, Beta, Delta, Gamma, and Epsilon

    <h4>Chapter 89: Alpha, Beta, Delta, Gamma, and Epsilon</h4>


    Just as Ethan entered the meeting room, he sensed a subtle but unmistakable hostility in the air. Though the envoys from n Greymoore wore polite smiles and carried themselves with the grace of seasoned diplomats, Ethan could see right through them. Their eyes told a different story... one of disdain and superiority.


    He knew why.


    It was no secret that his father, Professor Adrian Raynor, had never been fond of conflict. Known for his gentle nature and brilliance in academia, Adrian was often called the "Schr Alpha" of the Raynor n. Despite his status as an alpha, he had never engaged in any pack politics. Instead, he immersed himself in the natural sciences and magical theory, attending seminars and hosting conferences around the world.


    Growing up under such a man, Ethan had followed in his footsteps. He had tagged along to countless conferences and lectures, soaking in the knowledge but never the hunger for dominance or physical power. Like his father, he despised showing strength for the sake of pride. Yet he was also keenly aware of one undeniable truth... in werewolf society, strength reigned supreme.


    After taking his seat at the head of the conference table, Ethan adjusted his cufflinks and said smoothly, "Apologies, gentlemen, for keeping you waiting. Now, let¡¯s discuss the matter at hand."


    The Greymoore n had indirect control over thergest constructionpany operating in Stockport and the Tameside boroughs. Officially, thepany was owned by the Brown family... with Oliver Brown, a sitting Member of Parliament, as its most prominent face. But Ethan knew the truth. The Greymoores controlled it from the shadows, using the Browns as their public front.


    That was precisely why Ethan had strategically avoided those areas until now. He had first expanded into Trafford, Salford, Oldham, and Rochdale... surrounding Manchester with a firm business presence. Before pushing into Bury, Bolton, and Wigan, he had decided to turn his attention to Stockport and Tameside. But now, with the Greymoores sniffing around, the battle lines had been drawn.


    Joseph Greymoore, the man leading the envoy, broke the silence. "Mr. Raynor, this feels like an insult. We travelled all the way from London out of respect for your family name. Otherwise, a phone call should have been enough."


    Ethan smirked. "Mr. Greymoore, what can I say? There was a family emergency. But now that I¡¯m here, let¡¯s continue, shall we?"


    Joseph¡¯s lips tightened. "What is your stance on our proposal?"


    Ethan leaned back casually. "Ah, forgive me. My memory¡¯s a bit scattered today. What was your proposal again?"


    Joseph¡¯s jaw clenched. "Our proposal is simple. We request that you refrain from expanding into Stockport and Tameside. We¡¯ve conducted business there for years. Surely there are other regions for yourpany to grow."


    Ethan nodded thoughtfully, then responded, "Please, try to see this from my point of view. I¡¯m expanding my business, not dering war. I haven¡¯t stopped you from entering Oldham or Manchester. It¡¯s a free country. If we happen to operate in the same territory, we can simply coexist. You do your business, and I do mine. Simple."


    Joseph¡¯s tone dropped to something more threatening. "Mr. Raynor, you can do business anywhere in the world. But as a fellow werewolf, you should respect another n¡¯s turf."


    Ethan raised an eyebrow. "I must have missed the memo. Last I checked, your turf was in northern London. Are you nning to relocate?"


    A ripple of rage passed through the Greymoore delegation. Joseph¡¯s face turned crimson, and the others bristled in unison. Ethan¡¯s words were a deliberate provocation, and they knew it.


    The tension in the room skyrocketed.


    The werewolves¡¯ auras shed subtly but powerfully. Jack, who stood behind Ethan like a silent shadow, could barely stay on his feet. If not for Ethan¡¯s protective aura subtly shielding him, he might have passed out from the overwhelming pressure.


    Ethan, of course, knew exactly what he was doing. Keeping Jack behind him served a dual purpose: it allowed him to show restraint in front of a human while applying psychological pressure to the Greymoores. He was daring them to lose control.


    Joseph clenched his fists, his voice dropping to a near-growl. "Mr. Ethan Raynor, you¡¯ve shown no respect to our delegation. We came in peace, but if that¡¯s not appreciated, prepare for an official response from our n."


    Without another word, he stood abruptly and stormed out of the room. The others followed; their movements sharp with restrained fury.


    Once outside the Purplebricks office, they entered their ck SUVs and drove straight toward Stockport.


    As soon as they hit the highway, Joseph pulled out his phone and dialled Lucian Greymoore, who is a born alpha and the Young Master of their n, and first in line to inherit the title from their current patriarch, Alistair Greymoore.


    "Young Master," Joseph began, "Ethan Raynor is arrogant beyond belief. He thinks the Raynor name makes him untouchable. Hepletely disregarded our goodwill and insulted our n. I believe it¡¯s time to inform the matter to the n Head."


    Lucian¡¯s voice on the other end was calm, but there was an edge of satisfaction. "You did well. I¡¯ll inform Father. Don¡¯t worry... I¡¯ll make sure Ethan pays for his disrespect."


    In werewolf society, born alphas were rare. Even a powerful n like the Raynors had only fifteen born alphas. Among them, only one could be the True Alpha, the recognized leader of the entire pack. That title belonged to their Matriarch, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor.


    Other alphas, despite their natural strength, functioned as betas when under the leadership of a true alpha. Then there were omegas... lone wolves or outcasts who operated outside any pack hierarchy.


    The social structure didn¡¯t stop there. Among the born betas, several subsses existed. Deltas were physical powerhouses, born with exceptionalbat prowess. They formed the core of the pack¡¯s warrior unit.


    Gammas were brilliant strategists and served as the pack¡¯s advisors and nners.


    Epsilons were scouts, gifted with agility, endurance, and heightened perception. They could traverse terrain quickly, track targets, and deliver critical messages in times of war.


    Ethan Raynor, despite being a born alpha, was not a true alpha. He had no pack under him, no subordinates to provide him with aura buffs during duels, and no history ofbat achievement. In the eyes of many, he was the weakest among the alphas of his generation... an intellectual, not a warrior.


    Lucian Greymoore knew this. That¡¯s why he had sent his delegation with a firm demand: leave Stockport and Tameside to the Greymoores. He also knew that if this ever escted into a formal meeting between the two ns, the Greymoores would be forced to give up their im because they are not Manchester locals. But Lucian had long since invested heavily in the Brown family, and Oliver Brown was essential to his powers in London politics.


    Now that Ethan had refused, the path to esction was wide open.


    Lucian, grinning ear to ear, knocked on his father¡¯s office door.


    "Come in," said Alistair Greymoore from inside.


    Lucian stepped in confidently and sat across from his father. "Dad, Ethan took the bait. Joseph and the others are furious. They¡¯re ready to file an officialint. That gives us the right to challenge Ethan to a duel."


    Alistair narrowed his eyes. "If they file a formalint, we can push it through the Council. But remember... anyone from Ethan¡¯s generation in the Raynor n can fight on his behalf. Are you sure you can handle whoever they send?"


    Lucian nodded firmly. "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve gathered intelligence. Their strongest betas are older than Ethan and can¡¯t participate in a same-generation duel. The younger fighters are inexperienced, and they wouldn¡¯t dare send their Young Miss. If she lost, it would tarnish the reputation of their future n Head."


    Alistair considered this. "If that¡¯s the case, then Ethan stands no chance. As vice leader of our n, you have our warriors to support you with aura buffs. And since I won¡¯t be near the duel, Fiona Raynor won¡¯t be able to intervene either."


    He paused, then added coldly, "Go ahead. Have Joseph file the formalint. Let¡¯s prepare for a duel... by the rules."

 Chapter 90: The Cost of Wrong Information

    <h4>Chapter 90: The Cost of Wrong Information</h4>


    After two days of continuous remorse over his own stupidity, James Clifford¡¯s brain finally began functioning normally again. The shock of Eleanor¡¯s sudden reappearance had shaken him, but now he knew he needed to get his emotions under control. He had to decide his next steps regarding Eleanor... strategically and carefully. Although he didn¡¯t know the full truth, he had to formte a n with the fragments of information he had managed to gather so far.


    Seated in his favourite spot at his outskirt vi... on a rocking chair beside the serene swimming pool... he took a long sip of his freshly brewed coffee. The sun glinted off the water¡¯s surface, but James¡¯s gaze was distant, dark, calcting.


    "I need to inform the Whitmores," he murmured to himself. "If they run into Eleanor and react inappropriately in front of the Millers, it could be a disaster. Especially Jennifer... I know how vtile she gets when ites to Eleanor."


    But before that, he knew he had to be sure... gather all possible intelligence. He couldn¡¯t afford any more mistakes.


    He pulled out his phone and dialled a number he hadn¡¯t used in a long time. It rang twice before being answered.


    "Hello, Detective Harvey speaking."


    "Detective Harvey, it¡¯s James Clifford."


    "Mr. Clifford!" The voice on the other end instantly brightened. "You¡¯re an old client... I still have your number saved. Although... I must apologize again for failing to locate your former girlfriend all those years ago. That was a truly exceptional case. What can I do for you today?"


    James spoke calmly but with urgency, "Actually, that¡¯s the reason I¡¯m calling. I¡¯ve finally found her."


    Before he could borate, Detective Harvey eximed enthusiastically, "Oh! Congrattions!"


    James¡¯s expression darkened. His voice dropped a tone. "Don¡¯t congratte me just yet. Yes, I found her... but there¡¯s a seriousplication. It appears she¡¯s lost her memory. She didn¡¯t recognize me at all, no matter how many times I tried to remind her."


    He took a long breath, gathering the nerve to say the next part. "And that¡¯s only half of the problem. The bigger issue is... she seems to be involved with Edward Miller... the chairman of the Miller Group. She might be his girlfriend or, God forbid, his wife."


    A bitter smile curled at the edge of his lips. "Sure, Edward Miller is wealthy, but he¡¯s old, widowed, and already has children and grandchildren. I want you to investigate her current status. Where is she living? What¡¯s her rtionship with the Millers? How is she being treated? I just want... for the peace of my mind."


    He added softly, with feigned sentimentality, "You know, I always wanted what¡¯s best for her."


    "I understand, Mr. Clifford," Harvey replied. "You spent a lot of resources on the original case. I remember well... you were quite invested. I felt bad not being able to provide results back then. But now that you¡¯ve given me a lead, I¡¯ll find everything you need. I¡¯ll start immediately."


    "Good," James said. "I¡¯m transferring your standard fee right now. This is a new investigation, so treat it as such. But I need the full report by this evening. If your findings are thorough, I¡¯ll ensure you receive a generous bonus."


    "You¡¯re very generous, sir," the detective responded. "I¡¯ll push all other cases to my assistants. Today, I work only for you. Expect my call this evening."


    "I¡¯ll be waiting," James said, ending the call.


    He sat in silence for a few moments, letting the information settle. Then, without hesitation, he dialled another number... this time an international one. The line connected after a moment.


    "Eleanor Whitmore is still alive," James said without preamble. "What happened on your end?"


    Thousands of miles away, in a snow-covered European vige, a tall man with broad shoulders walked along a quiet road. Snowkes drifted gently from the grey sky,nding on the thick trees that lined the path. His face was mostly hidden beneath the hood of his jacket. He paused, nced around to make sure no one was nearby, then answered in a cold, gravelly voice.


    "It shouldn¡¯t have taken this long," he said. "Wait a bit... I¡¯ll call you right back."


    He pulled his phone away and began tapping on it. Minutes passed. The wind rustled the trees. A bird chirped faintly in the distance.


    James¡¯s phone rang again... this time it was the man calling back.


    "I don¡¯t know what happened," he admitted. "The money I paid for the mission was confiscated aspensation. Two assassination attempts failed. Every member of the teams either died or vanished. Now they¡¯re ming me for providing false information. So tell me, James Clifford, who the hell is protecting that girl?"


    James¡¯s jaw clenched. "What are you saying? I only just learned she¡¯s involved with Edward Miller. Maybe things progressed... maybe they got married. But the Millers shouldn¡¯t have the strength to protect her like this. How can they wipe out trained elites?"


    The man scoffed. "Edward Miller? You¡¯re joking. The Miller Group has money and influence, sure, but not the kind of force needed to kill my people. You¡¯re underestimating the situation. Someone far more powerful is behind her... and possibly behind the Millers too."


    He paused, then added ominously, "The people who ept contracts through my channels aren¡¯t your average thugs. They¡¯re ex-military, most of them special ops. Veterans with ck ops experience. You think a bunch of British security guards took them out? No. Find me the real backer. And if you want to continue the mission... the price just went up."


    "How much?" James asked, a tremor in his voice.


    "Half a million pounds," the man replied. "And I want detailed, urate intel this time. Otherwise, I¡¯m out."


    James hesitated, "I... I have to speak with my partners first. I¡¯ll get back to you."


    He hung up the call and leaned back in the chair, staring nkly at the rippling water of the pool. His mind was racing. Who could it be? The Millers weren¡¯t known for military strength or underground connections. They were wealthy, yes, but even money had its limits.


    Was it possible someone else was protecting Eleanor? Someone powerful enough to kill trained assassins without leaving a trace? He needed answers.


    Finally, he decided to take it up with the Whitmores directly. If anyone knew more than him about Eleanor¡¯s past and the current bnce of power, it would be them.


    He quickly dialled William Whitmore.


    "Uncle," James began as soon as the call connected, "We need to talk. It¡¯s about Eleanor. Something important came up. When can we meet?"


    "I¡¯m busy all day," William replied. "But you cane to the house tonight. Jennifer and Jeanne will be home too."


    "Perfect. I¡¯d also like to bring my mother along. I think it¡¯s best if she hears this too."


    "That¡¯s fine," William said. "Just make sure toe after nine. I have a meeting in the evening that might run a bitte."


    "Of course. We¡¯ll be there on time," James replied and ended the call.


    He ced his phone on the small round table beside him, then muttered darkly under his breath, "Damn old man. You think I don¡¯t know your little hotel rendezvous with your secretary during these so-called meetings?"


    He clenched his jaw.


    "We¡¯re in the middle of a crisis, and all you care about is getting into your secretary¡¯s pants."

 Chapter 91: The Raynor Way to Duel

    <h4>Chapter 91: The Raynor Way to Duel</h4>


    News spread like wildfire across werewolf society that day... Lucian Greymoore, the Young Master of the Greymoore n, had officially challenged Ethan Raynor of the prestigious Raynor n to a duel over a business dispute.


    It had been six years since thest official duel between werewolves had taken ce, making this announcement not just rare but thrilling. Werewolf society, always hungry for action and power, buzzed with excitement. Whispers floated through every n meeting and gathering, each member specting whether Ethan Raynor would ept the challenge. Most were confident he would... after all, how could a Raynor back down from a public duel?


    Even across oceans, the news couldn¡¯t be ignored. In Vancouver, Margot Greymoore, Lucian¡¯s aunt and a respected elder of the n, nearly dropped her teacup when she received a call about it.


    She called Lucian immediately, her voice sharp with fury the moment he picked up.


    "Lucian! Are you out of your mind? What possessed you to challenge someone from the Raynor n to a duel? Do you have any idea what you¡¯ve done? We¡¯re not strong enough to bear their wrath if things go wrong!"


    Lucian,posed as always, took a deep breath before responding. "Aunt Margot, I understand your concern. But you¡¯ve been living yourfortable life in Vancouver. You¡¯ve been away too long to understand the dynamics back here. I promise you, every step I¡¯ve taken has been discussed and approved by Father."


    Margot paused at his words, her temper quickly giving way to anxiety. "Your father agreed to this?" she asked, voice dropping an octave.


    "He did," Lucian confirmed. "You know him. He¡¯s cautious but not fearful. He sees this duel as an opportunity, and so do I."


    "I suppose if your father¡¯s on board, he must have considered all the risks," she muttered. "Still, be very careful. The Raynors are no joke. They¡¯re one of the council families. That kind of influence doesn¡¯te without power."


    "I¡¯m aware," Lucian replied. "But don¡¯t worry. Ethan is the only one in their n around my age. I know the limits. I¡¯m not risking the n¡¯s future... just staking my own pride."


    Margot sighed. "You¡¯ve grown a lot, Lucian. But the Raynors might still have tricks up their sleeves. Be prepared for anything, even a sneak attack during the duel."


    "I will. Thank you for worrying about me, Aunt," Lucian said sincerely.


    He ended the call and stared at his phone for a moment. Dozens of missed calls and messages were waiting from other n members. Some criticized him; others showed concern. But after he rified that the n leader had authorized the duel, the noise died down. Oddly, the overwhelming concern made him feel a deeper connection to his people.


    For once, he wasn¡¯t just a young master. He was their representative in an ancient tradition. And that made him... proud.


    ***


    Eleanor learned about the matter from Sebastian nc in the evening. She was in her study, going through some files sent by USpanies. She immediately called Ethan, and he confirmed the news.


    "Is it true? You¡¯ve been called out for a duel?" she asked, concerncing her voice.


    "Yes," Ethan said calmly. "But it¡¯s nothing to worry about. I expected something like this sooner orter."


    "A duel can be deadly, Ethan," she pressed. "Why didn¡¯t you resolve the issue at the negotiation table? Business disputes don¡¯t belong in an arena!"


    "I tried. But they were already nning something," he exined. "Their delegates acted like they were giving me orders... betas behaving like alphas. That kind of boldness doesn¡¯te without a push from higher up in their n. They wanted the fight. I just epted the inevitable."


    "But..."


    "I¡¯m at Grandma¡¯s vi now," he interrupted softly. "She wants to discuss our strategy. Rx, okay? I¡¯ve got this."


    Before she could protest again, he ended the call.


    Ethan¡¯s car stopped in front of Fiona Elizabeth Raynor¡¯s vi. As expected, shadow guards quickly scanned the vehicle. The gates slowly opened, and the driver pulled up to the circr driveway. Ethan stepped out, adjusted his cuffs, and walked into the house.


    Inside, Fiona was reclining on a plush velvet sofa, phone in one hand, a porcin coffee cup in the other.


    "Good evening, Grandma," Ethan greeted, bowing respectfully with the signature werewolf gesture.


    Fiona nced up and smirked. "Why the sudden formality? What are you hiding?"


    "I assume you summoned me because of the duel?" Ethan said as he took a seat across from her.


    "Are there any other disasters you¡¯ve created recently that I should be aware of?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow.


    Ethan chuckled. "No disasters, Grandma. I¡¯ve been busy with work and getting Freya settled into school. I honestly thought the Greymoore n would mind their own business. I didn¡¯t expect such boldness... especially here in Manchester."


    "You¡¯re cking," Fiona said sharply. "You¡¯ve been spoiled by your little vacation from the council. I let you off the leash because I thought you deserved to enjoy your youth. But it seems I¡¯ve been too lenient. I should call Eleanor and tell her you¡¯re banned from seeing Freya for the next six months."


    "Please don¡¯t," Ethan said instantly, sitting up straighter. "I¡¯ll work harder. Just... don¡¯t do that."


    Fiona sipped her coffee with satisfaction. "Good. Then here¡¯s your punishment: every day before the duel, if you¡¯re in Manchester, you¡¯ll spend the nights training with Elder Bedivere."


    Ethan groaned internally but nodded. "Understood. Now... can you tell me what¡¯s really going on?"


    Fiona leaned forward. "You asked to be out of the council, so you missed key information. The Leroux family has been interfering in the Kingdom¡¯s economy. I don¡¯t know what kind of rtionship they have with the Greymoores, but it¡¯s safe to say all smaller ns are benefiting from it. Someone in the council is backing Lucian, that much is clear."


    Ethan¡¯s eyes narrowed. "So it¡¯s not just about a business dispute anymore."


    "Exactly," Fiona said. "Lucian wouldn¡¯t dare challenge you without significant support. I suspect the Fenroth n has trained him. That would exin his sudden confidence. Word is, his father named him vice leader recently... likely to give him standing in this duel."


    "Let them do whatever they want," Ethan said. "I¡¯ll win."


    Fiona shook her head. "This isn¡¯t just about winning, Ethan. This is about prestige. The Raynor name has stood unchallenged for centuries. No one has seen our true strength in generations. Thest time I duelled publicly was over 300 years ago... against Sten Fenroth. I humiliated him so thoroughly that he still carries a grudge."


    She paused, her expression hardening. "If it were Eleanor in the arena, I wouldn¡¯t worry. That girl could rip Lucian apart in under a minute. Her Elizabeth bloodline is fully awakened. But you... though strong... haven¡¯t shown the world your potential yet. Lucian is no fool. He¡¯ll use his n¡¯s Earth-based bloodline, his rank, and possibly Fenroth techniques."


    Ethan¡¯s expression darkened with resolve. "I¡¯ll still win, Grandma. I don¡¯t care how strong he¡¯s be."


    Fiona¡¯s smile turned cold. "I have no doubt that you will win. But as a Raynor, the fight should bepletely one-sided. Your opponent should do all the work in the arena while you stand in the middle and simply defend. He should cry blood and question why he ever challenged you. The duel should drag on so long that he surrenders out of sheer exhaustion. Everyone will expect you to make a decisive move to end it... but you never will. You should frustrate the spectators, make them hate you, and yetpel them toe watch. That¡¯s the Raynor way to duel."

 Chapter 92: No One Named Eleanor Whitmore

    <h4>Chapter 92: No One Named Eleanor Whitmore</h4>


    For the next few minutes, Fiona carefully exined the nature of Earth-rted abilities, including how they manifested inbat and how Elder Bedivere would assist Ethan in preparing for the uing duel. Earth users were versatile and dangerous... able to manipte terrain, control vibrations, and even generate rock armour-like defences. The most formidable ones could harden their bodies to the level of steel using techniques passed down by the Fenroth n.


    Although Ethan had no precise information about Lucian¡¯s abilities, Fiona believed that with the right preparation, he could respond to any form of attack. She emphasized the importance of engaging in a battle of attrition. If Lucian relied on Fenroth¡¯s methods to bolster his endurance, Ethan had to make sure not to give him a chance tond a blow on him.


    Once the strategy wasid out, Fiona handed Ethan an envelope with the Council¡¯s golden emblem.


    "This came in the morning," she said. "Read it carefully."


    Ethan opened the letter and scanned the printed words with growing interest. It was an official duel invitation, issued and signed by Matthias Graventhal, the Arbiter of the Werewolf Council. The letter outlined the terms of the duel... date, venue,bat conditions, and some use.


    He frowned. "Why did they schedule the duel one monthter? What¡¯s the catch?"


    Fiona rested her elbows on the armrest,cing her fingers thoughtfully. "I suspect Lucian negotiated for this dy. Likely, someone promised him rare training resources... possibly even advanced Fenroth techniques after issuing the challenge. One month is enough to sharpen an alreadypetent warrior."


    She paused, her gaze turning sharp. "But what concerns me more is this condition... they¡¯ve limited the audience to those under one hundred years old. It¡¯s absurd. That use effectively bans most of our n¡¯s experienced warriors from attending."


    Ethan understood immediately. "It¡¯s a political move. If we object, they¡¯ll twist the narrative. im we¡¯re trying to intimidate Lucian by bringing powerful elders. But if we ept, they control the crowd and environment."


    He exhaled slowly and added, "I think I should attend the duel alone. You can arrange for a neutral Council member to spectate. Their presence would deter any foul y behind the Arbiter¡¯s back."


    Fiona raised an eyebrow but eventually nodded. "If you¡¯re fine with this, I won¡¯t object. I¡¯ll arrange for someone trustworthy to be there. We¡¯ll ept all the terms."


    Just then, Ethan¡¯s phone buzzed. A message lit up his screen:


    "Whitmore family has a meeting tonight."


    He looked up at Fiona. "I need to attend to something urgent. I¡¯ll begin training from tomorrow night."


    Fiona waved him off. "Go. I¡¯ll inform you if anything changes."


    ***


    That night, under a sky dusted with starlight and the pale crescent moon hanging in the west, a ck sedan entered the Whitmore estate. Inside the car were James Clifford and his mother, Phoebe Baker. It was Phoebe¡¯s first official visit to the Whitmores since James¡¯s engagement to Jennifer Whitmore.


    William Whitmore, his wife Jeanne Baker, and Jennifer stood at the entrance to receive them. The family exchanged greetings, but it was clear the atmosphere wasn¡¯t one of celebration. Tension rippled just beneath the surface.


    After a brief chat, William invited them to the dining hall for dinner. But James declined politely.


    "There¡¯s a serious matter we need to discuss first," he said.


    The group moved to William¡¯s private study... arge oak-panelled room filled with leather-bound books, vintage clocks, and an antique globe near the firece.


    James sat forward; his hands sped tightly as he began.


    "I met Eleanor at a recent banquet," he said. "She was with Edward Miller. The chairman of Miller Group. I approached her, but she didn¡¯t recognize me. I think she had memory loss and forgot everything."


    He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "That made me suspicious, so I hired a private investigator to dig deeper. What he found is... rming."


    Everyone leaned in.


    James continued, "The detective confirmed that Eleanor and Edward have only been seen together once. No further interactions. But here¡¯s where things get strange... he couldn¡¯t find any trace of Eleanor Whitmore in the system."


    Jennifer frowned. "What do you mean, ¡¯no trace¡¯?"


    "Literally," James said. "Her social media ounts are gone. The detective checked Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn... nothing. You can search her name online now to see."


    William and Jennifer took out their mobile phones and searched, but there was no one named Eleanor Whitmore. All the social media ounts Jennifer knew were gone, and even the news about her from back then couldn¡¯t be found.


    "The detective checked government records next," James continued. "There¡¯s no birth certificate, no NHS records, no school or university records, no passport, driver¡¯s license, or even a bank ount under the name Eleanor Whitmore. He even looked into things like her Harrods Rewards Card and Ivy Club Membership I knew... both gone."


    Jeanne gasped softly. "That¡¯s... impossible."


    "It gets worse," James said grimly. "He visited Eleanor¡¯s old school. Turns out, there was a fire ident three years ago. It destroyed several years¡¯ worth of physical documents... including Eleanor¡¯s ss."


    Jennifer, her face pale, said, "But what about the missing person¡¯s report we filed? That was official."


    James nodded. "Gone. The police database doesn¡¯t show it anymore. The report vanished. Even newspaper archives have been systematically wiped out. Libraries that kept back issues of the local papers were robbed at different times. The thieves took every copy mentioning Eleanor¡¯s kidnapping."


    "That¡¯s absurd," William muttered. "Surely this is just... a coincidence?"


    "No, it¡¯s coordinated," James replied. "The detective believes someone has gone to extraordinary lengths to erase Eleanor¡¯s existence. He¡¯s pulling out of the case. Said it¡¯s beyond his pay grade now."


    Phoebe, who had remained silent throughout, finally spoke. "Does it matter who¡¯s behind this? Honestly, I think it¡¯s a good thing that Eleanor has lost her memories."


    Everyone turned toward her. The calmness in her voice was chilling.


    "If she ever finds out our involvement in her rape case..." Phoebe¡¯s voice trailed off. Her eyes locked on William¡¯s.


    No one said a word. A wave of silence washed over the room.


    A cold shiver ran down Jennifer¡¯s spine. Jeanne covered her mouth in horror.

 Chapter 93: A Successful Transplant

    <h4>Chapter 93: A Sessful Transnt</h4>


    After the initial shock faded, it was William who first managed to regain hisposure and think rationally.


    He looked toward James and asked gravely, "James, what about the killing order we paid for previously? What happened to it?"


    James nodded, his face tense. "They sent two teams of assassins, but both either died or lost contact. The organization kept our payment aspensation, stating that we provided insufficient or inurate information. They deemed the mission far riskier than initially estimated. If we want to continue, we¡¯ll need to pay a higher fee for a more elite team."


    William¡¯s face turned grim. "Perhaps we should reconsider. If this powerful force backing Eleanor ever discovers our involvement through the assassins, we could be in real danger."


    James, however, waved the concern away. "Don¡¯t worry. That organization is well-known for protecting its clients¡¯ identities. The assassins only know the job details... not the employer. They follow a strict protocol."


    "How much would it cost for a higher-level team?" William asked, his expression unreadable.


    "We paid ¡ê100,000 for the lowest-tier service," James exined. "The next tier is ¡ê500,000, and above that is ¡ê1 million. They even have higher-level operations beyond that, but I think we should choose between those two options."


    William didn¡¯t hesitate. "Let¡¯s go with the ¡ê1 million option. If she regains her memory, it could be catastrophic. Why live in constant fear? Better to eliminate the threat once and for all."


    "I agree," Jeanne added coldly, folding her arms.


    James nodded. "Very well. Please arrange for the funds. I¡¯ll contact the organization and initiate the next phase. This time, they won¡¯t miss."


    Phoebe frowned, her tone curious. "All right, we¡¯re paying for assassins. But one thing still bothers me... how could Eleanor possibly receive such high-level protection? She was just an orphan, wasn¡¯t she? What could have happened to her after she left home?"


    James leaned back in his chair, a weary look in his eyes. "The detective couldn¡¯t uncover anything about the years following her disappearance. And now, he refuses to investigate any further... he¡¯s afraid of provoking whoever¡¯s protecting her. My guess is that someone influential is backing the Miller family. Wealthy families often have hidden allies, sometimes far more powerful than they appear."


    He paused, then continued, "But here¡¯s the thing... I don¡¯t even believe Eleanor is directly connected to Edward Miller. It could be that the force behind him is protecting her. And there¡¯s still one question I can¡¯t shake: why did she leave home that day? I had just broken up with her over the phone. A normal reaction would have been trying to contact me... or, at worst, doing something drastic. But to vanish like that? To just leave? It doesn¡¯t make sense."


    William furrowed his brow. "That day, she went for a run in the park, like she always did. She wore her usual tracksuit and sneakers. But after entering the park... she just disappeared. Even the police¡¯s dog squad couldn¡¯t trace her scent after a certain point."


    Phoebe nced at William. "Was there any rtive on her mother¡¯s side who might be capable of orchestrating something like this?"


    William shook his head. "Her mother¡¯s name was Esmeralda Langford. I never met any of her rtives. Even on her deathbed, Esmeralda never spoke of them. After she passed, no one came to im the body or Eleanor¡¯s custody. And as for Eleanor¡¯s father... no one had any idea who he was. That¡¯s when I forged a marriage certificate to im custody and ess to her assets. One of my friends at the registry office helped. The certificate was printed on authentic paper, so no one questioned it. Everyone epted the arrangement since Jeanne treated Eleanor so well. I feared for years that someone... either from Esmeralda¡¯s family or her mysterious father... woulde looking for her. But it never happened. If there were any family left, wouldn¡¯t they have shown up by now?"


    Jeanne chimed in quietly, "There was that nanny, Isabe. Esmeralda hired her to take care of Eleanor. She was from the same region as her, andter, when I convinced Eleanor to fire her, Isabe imed she was going back to Birmingham. At least, that¡¯s what she told Eleanor."


    James rubbed his temple. "Let¡¯s not focus on that for now. Something must have happened in the park that day... something we don¡¯t know about. But what¡¯s done is done. We need to focus on the present. Avoid her at all costs. If she sees any of us and her memories are triggered, we¡¯ll all be in serious trouble. Even if she bes the same old Eleanor, she¡¯ll never forgive me after finding out I got engaged to Jennifer."


    Phoebe nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Now that she has someone powerful protecting her, we shouldn¡¯t take any more risks. Let¡¯s avoid herpletely until the assassination is sessful."


    Everyone in the room nodded silently. After that, the group shifted topics to other matters, discussing wedding preparations and business interests. Eventually, they left the study and moved to the dining room for dinner.


    From behind the estate, a tall man in ck silently stepped out of the shadows. A slim briefcase was in his hand. Without a sound, he walked to a parked car some distance away and got in.


    "Master, the meeting has concluded. I¡¯m sending you the full recording now," he said into his phone. He opened the briefcase, revealing a custom-built device with a smallptop and several circuits attached. Connecting his phone with a cable, he transferred the audio recording swiftly. Once done, he closed the briefcase, started the engine, and vanished into the night.


    ***


    In his study, Ethan was seated at his desk, reviewing some documents on hisptop. His phone vibrated. When he picked it up, a notification shed on the screen... a voice recording had arrived.


    He yed the file, and as the conversation unfolded, his eyes narrowed. The deeper the recording went, the colder his expression became. The air in the room grew frigid, as if responding to his rising fury.


    ***


    Meanwhile, at Manchester Airport, a Learjet 45XR Air Ambnce touched down and began taxiing toward the private terminal. Several members of the Miller family, including Edward Miller, stood watching as the jet came to a stop on the runway.


    As the aircraft door opened, a medical team stepped out, escorting a rolling stretcher equipped with advanced life-support machines. Monitors beeped softly, disying stable vitals.


    Lying on the bed was a pale but peaceful Annabel Miller, barely five years old, her tiny chest rising and falling rhythmically. The sessful heart transnt had taken ce a few days ago in a specialized paediatric facility in India.


    Following the stretcher out of the aircraft were her smiling parents, Aidan Miller and Elsie Turner. The relief in their eyes was unmistakable.


    When Aidan spotted Edward nearby, he rushed forward with Elsie.


    "Dad, you didn¡¯t have toe all the way here," Aidan said with a grin. "I already informed you... the heart transnt was aplete sess. Annabel just needs one or two months to adapt to the new heart. After that, she can return home fully recovered."


    Edwardughed softly, cing a hand on Aidan¡¯s shoulder. "Do you really think I could sit still at home while my granddaughter returns from the brink of death? I had to see her with my own eyes."


    At that moment, a paramedic approached. "Mr. Miller, we¡¯re ready to leave for the hospital."


    Aidan nodded. "Alright. Let¡¯s go to Hope Specialized Hospital."


    He turned to his wife. "Elsie, you go with Annabel in the ambnce. I¡¯ll talk with Dad for a bit in his car."


    Elsie nodded and boarded the ambnce, ensuring her daughter was secure. Behind the emergency vehicle, nine cars belonging to the Miller family began moving in unison, their headlights piercing the night as they sped under the glowing city lights toward the hospital.

 Chapter 94: Welcome to Russia

    <h4>Chapter 94: Wee to Russia</h4> More than a week had passed in the blink of an eye. Eleanor¡¯s life had returned to a peaceful rhythm. There was no disturbance in her businesses, and everything seemed calm on the surface. Freya was now fully adjusted to school life and had even made several friends among her ssmates. The once-lonely child had begun to blossom, and Eleanor¡¯s heart felt light seeing her thrive.


    That day was a public holiday, and Eleanor brought Freya to the Raynor Estate, nning to leave her there for a few days. Freya was more than happy to stay with her Grandma and Grandpa, especially with Fiona around to y with. Although Eleanor initially intended to request leave for Freya from school, Ethan volunteered to handle the school duties from the estate.


    While Freya and Selene yed outside in the garden, Fiona finally voiced the question that had been on her mind all morning.


    "Why are you going to Russia?" she asked, her tone calm butced with concern.


    Eleanor, seated at the table with a cup of herbal tea in hand, replied, "On the surface, it¡¯s a business trip. I¡¯m supposed to be negotiating with twopanies based in Zelenograd. But in truth, I¡¯ll be investigating the recent assassination attempts."


    Fiona frowned. "Attempts? When did the second attack happen?"


    "A few days ago," Eleanor said casually, as if it were no more than a passing inconvenience. "The assassins were neutralized by the shadow guards before they even realized what was happening. That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t hear about it."


    Fiona¡¯s concern deepened. "Are you sure these attackers came from Russia?"


    "No, not directly. They were from different countries," Eleanor exined. "But the tform that organized these assassins... the main server... is located in Russia. The assassins themselves are just pawns. Theye, we kill them, and the cycle repeats. It¡¯s annoying, but manageable. If I can eliminate the organization that¡¯s orchestrating all this, then the problem can be solved at its root."


    "Russia is not an easy ce to operate," Fiona warned, a note of caution in her voice. "Where exactly are you headed this time?"


    "I¡¯ll be based in Zelenograd. The factories I¡¯m scheduled to visit are located there. But my real target is a ce called Durykino. It¡¯s less than three hours on foot from Zelenograd, or under half an hour by car."


    Fiona leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly. "Zelenograd may seem peaceful on the surface... it¡¯s mostly urbanized and dominated by humans, but don¡¯t be fooled. Russia is home to many supernatural factions, especially vampires. Several ancient vampire noble families reside in the Greater Caucasus region. Do not, under any circumstances, engage with them unless absolutely necessary. Vampires still harbour deep resentment toward werewolves... not just because of the historical wars, but because of our ability to walk under the sun. It¡¯s something they envy."


    Eleanor nodded solemnly. "Understood."


    Fiona continued, "If you do encounter any vampires, your first question should be to ask their family name. Then call me immediately. I¡¯ll try to contact their higher-ups. Vampires are very political. There¡¯s a lot of internal conflict within their kind. Every step must be taken cautiously."


    "Okay, Grandma," Eleanor said, her voice soft. "I¡¯ll remember."


    After discussing a few matters rted to current affairs and business transitions, Eleanor bid farewell to Fiona, Adrian, Selene, and Freya. Her car drove directly to the airport, where her private jet was waiting. Her shadow guards and her temporary secretary, Cassandra nc, had already boarded.


    After nearly four hours of smooth flight, Eleanor¡¯s Gulfstream G650 descended gracefully through a nket of overcast skies andnded on the ss-smooth runway of Sheremetyevo International Airport, Moscow¡¯s sprawling gateway to the world.


    She descended the jet¡¯s metallic staircase, her boots clicking softly on thest step, as thete afternoon light cast a warm, honeyed glow across the sleek tarmac. The air was different... crisper, colder, and tinged with the scent of fuel and distant snow. It was the kind of cold that kissed your skin and reminded you where you were. This was Russia.


    The runway stretched behind her like a grey ribbon of ambition, framed by silent radar towers and vast hangars that loomed like steel titans against the horizon.


    Sheremetyevo had a surreal stillness to it... a strange limbo where sky met earth, where silence hummed louder than words. Inside the terminal, Eleanor glimpsed the interior through a crystalline ss wall: chandeliers swaying gently from the high ceiling, polished marble floors gleaming like mirrors, and a sea of travellers moving like clockwork.


    She paused for a brief moment to absorb the setting. There was elegance here... cold and calcted, but undeniably beautiful. The kind of beauty born from order and efficiency. The terminal felt less like a building and more like a monument to global transit, where cultures collided briefly before flying apart again.


    Luxury boutiques lined the halls like gemstones inset in steel. The scent of roasted coffee mingled with winter perfume. Outside, light snowkes fellzily, dusting the edges of the runway like powdered sugar. Aircraft, hulking beasts of metal, stood waiting... ready to rise once more into the clouds.


    At the arrivals gate, a tall man dressed in a tailored charcoal-grey suit stood with perfect posture, holding a card with the name "Miss Cassandra nc" written in elegant serif lettering. The discreet crest of Benedict Hotel & SPA was embroidered on his breast pocket.


    As soon as Cassandra emerged from the terminal, the hotel representative stepped forward with a courteous bow and a polished smile.


    "Good afternoon, Miss nc," he said in lightly ented but fluent English. "Wee to Russia. It is our honour to receive you. I trust your flight was pleasant."


    With smooth efficiency, he offered to carry her small bag and gestured toward a waiting vehicle... a sleek ck Mercedes S-ss with dark-tinted windows and a scent of new leather.


    Unfortunately, no five-star hotel could be found within Zelenograd area. The best avable option was Benedict Hotel & SPA, a local four-star luxury establishment nestled in the town¡¯s quieter district. Since the hotelcked a Presidential Suite, Cassandra had reserved the entire top floor to ensure privacy and security.


    It took them nearly twenty minutes to reach the hotel. As Eleanor stepped out of the car, the soft evening light illuminated the elegant silhouette of the building. Tall, arched windows reflected the golden hue of streemps. The cream-toned fa?ade gave the structure a noble presence against the gathering dusk.


    The hotel¡¯s Luxe Suites featured king-sized beds, a private living area, and tasteful furnishings. Eleanor chose the suite at the center of the top floor and assigned the room beside hers to Cassandra.


    Once inside her room, Eleanor didn¡¯t waste a second. She kicked off her boots and sat on the plush sofa. Pulling out her encrypted tablet, she immediately hacked into the hotel¡¯s security system. As expected, it was outdated... relying on local, unencrypted feeds with no real-time surveince monitoring.


    After confirming that no third party could ess the hotel¡¯s camera footage, she sent a message to her shadow guards, instructing them to begin a sweep of the premises.


    She needed to know exactly who was staying in the hotel.


    Russia was aplicated chessboard, and Eleanor had no intention of making a move without knowing where the other pieces stood.

 Chapter 95: A Taste of Pan-Asian Cuisine in Moscow

    <h4>Chapter 95: A Taste of Pan-Asian Cuisine in Moscow</h4>


    Eleanor¡¯s shadow guards leapt into action the moment she gave the order. They began a quiet sweep of the hotel, checking every room, staff member, and registered guest. Within an hour, theypiled aprehensive list of individuals carrying firearms or other weapons, catalogued by room number and identity. Once the sweep wasplete, they handed the findings over to Eleanor, then retreated to a safe location more than half a mile away from the hotel. From there, they hired a taxi and returned to check into the hotel again... this time as Cassandra¡¯s travelingpanions.


    Meanwhile, inside her suite, Eleanor worked tirelessly. She cross-checked the names from the guest list with national databases and dug into their personal and professional histories.


    To her surprise, only one of them, Yury Solovyov... was carrying a licensed weapon: an MP-80-13T pistol. Yury was a veteran investigative journalist working for Novaya Gazeta, one of the few remaining independent news outlets in the country.


    The rest were carrying illegal firearms.


    Major (Retired) Artem Kusov was found with a Glock 19. A former military man, he now operated as a private security consultant. Along with him, four others carried the same type of firearm. They were all ex-military, stationed around the suite of a man named dimir Egorov... a wealthy oil shipping tycoon. dimir himself had a Makarov PM in his possession. Eleanor concluded that the group likely formed his private security detail.


    Elsewhere in the hotel, Pavel Antonov, a gemstone dealer, was found to be carrying a Walther PPK. Another man, Sergei Lebedev, listed as an antique dealer, had a Tokarev TT-33 tucked away in his room.


    But the most interesting of them all was Anatoly Ignatov, a Regional Coordinator of the ruling United Russia Party. He was staying alone and kept a Stechkin APS under his pillow.


    Aside from these, the remaining guests were normal humans... no supernatural presence, no weapons. Satisfied, Eleanor leaned back, switched off her tablet, and slipped it into her bag.


    A faint presence behind the door caught her attention. Without turning, she said, "Come in."


    Sebastian entered, bowed respectfully, and asked, "Ma¡¯am, what are our orders for today?"


    Eleanor nced at the clock and shook her head. "Nothing for now. Rest first. I have a factory visit scheduled for tomorrow, so I won¡¯t leave the hotel until then. But you have a mission tonight."


    Sebastian straightened, attentive.


    "I¡¯ll give you a geolocation. You¡¯ll need to investigate the area. I¡¯m looking for a server facility. If you don¡¯t find anything at the exact address, check the surrounding buildings. My guess is the server may be underground, so choose your team ordingly."


    "Yes, ma¡¯am," he said with a nod.


    "Oh, and send Cassandra in on your way out."


    A few minutester, Cassandra knocked on the door and entered.


    "Boss, you called me?"


    "Yes. Did you receive myplete schedule from Teresa?"


    "Not theplete version," Cassandra replied. "She sent over two confirmed appointments... one tomorrow morning at ten, and the second in the afternoon at three."


    "I was told you¡¯d finalize the rest of the appointments and set up the return schedule. Our ne must be ready to depart anytime the morning after tomorrow."


    "Understood."


    "I want you to contact bothpanies and confirm our arrival times. I¡¯ll be bringing two guards with me. Ask the hotel to provide a rented SUV by tomorrow morning. No driver needed... Raphael will handle that. And inform the staff not to prepare the dining area for me tonight. I¡¯ll have dinner in my room."


    "Got it," Cassandra said, jotting notes on her phone.


    Eleanor nodded, then dismissed her with a wave. Once the door closed behind her, Eleanor changed into a morefortable outfit and sank into the luxurious bed. She dialled Selene¡¯s number, intending to speak to Freya... but it was Ethan who answered.


    Surprised, they chatted for a few minutes. He updated her on his preparations for the uing duel, while she shared a bit about her current living situation. When Freya finally got on the line, Eleanor¡¯s face softened. They spoke until a knock came at the door.


    Eleanor walked over and opened it to find Cassandra standing with a hotel staff member.


    "Boss," Cassandra said, "the menu options were quite broad, so I brought him here."


    "Alright." Eleanor took the menu and studied it with a raised brow.


    To her delight, the hotel offered an extensive selection of Pan-Asian cuisine. After a few moments, she pointed at the items she wanted.


    "I¡¯ll have spicy coconut milk soup with shrimp wontons, half a Peking duck with pancakes, cucumber, and hoisin sauce... and tiramisu with green matcha for dessert."


    The staff member entered the selections into his tablet silently.


    She continued, "For tomorrow morning, croissant with Tom Yam shrimp and fried eggs, seasonal fruit tter, and tea."


    Once that was noted down, she added, "And send a bottle of Beluga Gold Line Vodka to my room now, along with a Sichuan chicken tter."


    The staff bowed slightly, understanding the unspoken dismissal.


    Turning to Cassandra, Eleanor said, "Everyone can order what they like, but limit the alcohol. Tell the team to eat early and rest... we have a packed schedule tomorrow."


    "Understood, Boss."


    As Cassandra departed, Eleanor moved to the table and opened herptop. There were several reports and applications waiting for her approval. She sipped water and began to work, determined to clear her desk before the vodka arrived.


    ***


    The ck Castle stood amongst mountains as a testament to time... a fusion of ancient Russian aristocracy and surreal opulence. The gilded cornices and carved oak panels whispered of long-dead dynasties, while jewel-toned lighting washed the hallways in a theatrical glow.


    In arge room at the top of the castle, chandeliers like frozen gxies cast soft radiance over imperial-patterned marble floors. A throne-like sofa of crimson velvet and brass studding cradled a man who looked as if sculpted by gods.


    He lounged with decadent ease... regal, seductive, and dangerous. Tousled raven-ck hair framed a face too perfect for this age. His eyes... cial blue, almost metallic, shone with the unnatural sheen of the immortal.


    He wore a silk-ck shirt, open at the chest to expose the smooth gleam of his corbone, and tailored trousers stitched from history itself. The room seemed to orbit around him, air bending as if even the elements paid him tribute.


    The door creaked open, and a pale-skinned man entered. Without hesitation, he fell to one knee in a disy of reverence... a ritual as old as the blood that ran in his veins.


    "Speak," the reclining figure said without moving his eyes from his phone.


    "My Lord," came the calm voice of kneeling Dimitry Petrov, eyes lowered, "Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor has arrived in Moscow. She passed immigration under her real name a few hours ago."

 Chapter 96: Imperial Haven

    <h4>Chapter 96: Imperial Haven</h4>


    The room fell into an eerie silence, as if time itself had paused. The only sound was the distant hum of the wind colliding with trees and mountains, asionally carrying a ghostly whistle through the cracks of the ancient vi.


    The man slowly lifted his eyes from his phone. His cial blue irises, deep and clear like a mountainke beneath a cloudless sky, spoke of centuries passed in silence... of a time so old it no longer breathed.


    With an elegant motion that surpassed imperial grace, he stood. There was a quiet majesty to him, as if gravity dared not rush his movements. He walked toward the wall, drew aside a heavy curtain, and unlocked arge sapphire-ss window. As the window opened, a gust of cold mountain air poured in, flooding the room with the scent of snow and pine.


    The humming wind was no longer distant. It howled now, furious and free, like an ancient spirit awakened from slumber.


    The man stood before the open window, his figure towering over seven feet tall. He looked less like a person and more like an ancient god returned to his mountain temple. His long ck hair flowed behind him like a banner of midnight, caught in the cold winds. The loose folds of his ck silk shirt danced in the air, fluttering violently... but the man remained motionless, unaffected. His pale white face was emotionless, his gaze fixed on the world below.


    In the distance, the Greater Caucasus rose in solemn splendour... a range carved by titans, draped in winter¡¯s solemn veil. Snow crowned each jagged peak, their edges brushed faintly in gold and rose by thest sigh of the sun as it retreated beyond the western horizon. The wind whispered through the valleys like a mournful hymn, stirring flurries of snow into gentle spirals that danced with the fading light.


    Obsidian shadows deepened in crevices untouched by daylight. The silver-lined ridges shimmered like ancient des, and the slow, deliberate descent of snowkes through twilight resembled celestial ash falling from unseen heavens.


    Below, dark silhouettes of ancient pine trees slumbered underyers of frost. No sound of life or movement reached this height. Only the eternal hush of wind and ice remained, as though time itself held its breath.


    In the final rays of dusk, the crown of the mountains turned crimson... like the blood of ancient battles staining the snow before fading into a dusky hue of ash and violet. Then came the stars, one by one, dotting the sky in silent celebration. The darkness eased, and the mountain range stepped into its truest form... endless, sacred, alive.


    A scene too vast for canvas, too sacred for memory.


    The man closed the window with a soft click. He drew the curtains shut and turned. His face, impossibly beautiful and untouched by emotion, was like a mask sculpted by centuries.


    He walked back to the throne-like sofa at the center of the room. Made of brass studding and draped in crushed velvet, it was a seat fit for emperors, yet he carried himself as if he needed no throne to dere his dominance. He sat, folding one leg over the other, his fingers inteced in front of him.


    He looked like a god cloaked in shadow, contemting the world beneath.


    "Let her do what she wants," he said finally, his voice deep and resonant, filled with the weight of unseen ages. "Observe her from a distance. The sooner she leaves my territory, the better. I don¡¯t want a certain madwoman throwing money around and drawing attention to my domain."


    He picked up his phone again, his thumb idly scrolling through the information on the screen.


    Dmitry Petrov finally rose from his kneeling position, bowed deeply once more, and silently exited the room. The heavy door closed behind him with a soft thud.


    Silence returned, swallowing everything whole. As if nothing had happened.


    ***


    It was well past midnight. The sky above Durykino had turned a deep indigo, and most houses in the industrial outskirts were now veiled in sleep and darkness.


    At the exact coordinates Eleanor had provided, a five-story building stood quietly beneath the dim starlight. The sign hanging above the ss entrance read: "Imperial Haven"... though it gave no hint of whaty inside.


    Despite the hour, faint lights flickered behind some of the windows, and subtle movement could be observed from afar. Though the area was silent, the building was clearly still active.


    That¡¯s why the shadow guards chose caution.


    Raphael, who possessed a unique sensitivity to underground structures, felt the unmistakable presence of several sublevels beneath the building as they approached. Something was hidden below.


    After a brief assessment, Sebastian made a call.


    "Isadora stays outside on guard. The rest of us split up and go in separately," he ordered.


    They melted into the shadows and slipped through different entry points with ghostlike precision. None of the night workers noticed their presence.


    Surprisingly, the buildingcked any visible surveince system. Not a single security camera.


    A suspicious Sebastian made his way to a secluded corner room and sent a message to the team Eleanor had linked them with... referred to simply as the "US team." Their task was remote reconnaissance, operating from thousands of miles away using tech Eleanor had entrusted them with.


    He turned on a small circr device and waited, staring at it thoughtfully.


    He didn¡¯t know who the other side was. But if Eleanor trusted them, that was enough. And judging by their efficiency, they were damn good at what they did.


    A soft ping lit up his phone.


    "The coast is clear. No security cameras found. However, we detected a strange field-based security system. Couldn¡¯t identify specifics... likely manual or local override only."


    Sebastian let out a slow breath. They were only here to scout. No confrontation was nned.


    He immediately informed his team through the earpiece. "No cameras, but there is a manual security system. Do NOT alert the enemy."


    A secondter, the entire team was in motion.


    Sebastian was on the ground floor. Two receptionists sat behind a wide desk, typing and sipping coffee like it was just another Tuesday night. To the left, three elevators gleamed. Odd, for such a small facility.


    Behind the elevators was arge bar and restaurant. This part of the building was shockingly alive. Despite the soundproof walls that had made the ce seem quiet from the outside, the interior was bustling with energy.


    People wereughing, drinking, eating, and shouting. Servers moved rapidly between tables. Televisions lined the far wall, broadcasting sports andte-night shows. Yet what struck Sebastian most was the crowd: nearly everyone in the bar was armed.


    This was no ordinary business. It looked like the den of a powerful underground boss.


    He spotted a narrow staircase leading upward, used by staff to carry trays of food. Climbing it carefully, Sebastian reached the first floor... a stark contrast to the chaotic energy below.


    Here, a long corridor stretched in both directions. Several private dining rooms lined the walls, each with closed doors. He peeked into a few. Private meals, shady business discussions, and guarded silence.


    At the end of the hall, a recreational area opened up. A pool table, foosball, card tables, even table tennis. Some were ying and gossiping andughing happily.


    Now it resembled a shady private club... discreet, exclusive, and secretive.

 Chapter 97: The Server of Darknet

    <h4>Chapter 97: The Server of Dar</h4>


    The top three floors of Imperial Haven resembled a hotel,plete with a diverse range of rooms. From the outside, one might easily mistake the building for a luxury inn. But a closer inspection revealed the disturbing truth... this was no ordinary hotel. Its guests were not tourists or businessmen, but hardened criminals and gangsters, gathered under one roof in the name of anonymity and survival.


    As the shadow team listened to the hushed conversations floating out from the rooms and lounges, they pieced together the true nature of the facility. Imperial Haven was the stronghold of a killer-for-hire syndicate operating under the same name... a safe haven for mercenaries, assassins, and fugitives from across the globe.


    The organization¡¯s leader was none other than Major General Tatiana Lebedeva, a former Russian militarymander with a reputation for brilliance on the battlefield and ruthlessness off it. Her name sent a shiver through the ranks of both the criminal underworld and government intelligenceworks. Now, it seemed, shemanded a different kind of army... one that killed not for country, but for coin.


    The shadow guards also learned of the facility¡¯s five subterranean levels.


    On Level One, members could either ept missions or issue them. The variety was staggering... from providing discreet protection to assassination contracts, to thefts of priceless artefacts and even the acquisition of rare medical supplies. There were whispers that, asionally, even government officials had visited the facility to issue covert missions under the radar.


    Level Two served as a reward and transaction center. Members received their payment here, in either cash or the organization¡¯s internal credit system... a digital ledger epted only within Imperial Haven and used for services, luxuries, or storage. There was also a vault, avable to anyone who could afford the rent. No questions were asked. This "no-questions" policy gave Imperial Haven a reputation for discretion and reliability. Wealthy clients often stored sensitive items here, well away from prying government eyes.


    The lower three floors were strictly off-limits to most. ess required special authorization, and only high-ranking individuals or those summoned by Tatiana herself had the privilege of stepping into those levels. The shadow guards confirmed from overheard conversations that Tatiana resided on the fifth underground floor, which doubled as hermand center. A few lucky operatives had seen her there... but none of them were present now.


    After thoroughly investigating the first two underground levels and confirming theyout matched what they¡¯d learned from above, the shadow guards moved deeper into the facility.


    As they descended to Level Three, an inexplicable chill enveloped them. It wasn¡¯t merely the drop in temperature. The very air was heavy... charged with tension. A suffocating silence nketed the floor, broken only by the faint mechanical hums and the blinking lights of massive machines.


    Rows upon rows of towering ck server cabs stood like silent sentinels, glowing with tiny lights... red, green, blue... blinking like a digital heartbeat in the shadows. Thick coils of cable snaked along the floor and ceiling, some bundled neatly, others chaotic like a nest of serpents. The entire space buzzed with power, secrecy, and something unspoken... something dangerous.


    To the untrained eye, it was a technologicalbyrinth. A digital sanctuary.


    Level Four was colder still, and the atmosphere darker in more ways than one. The fluorescent lighting cast an eerie bluish glow across the polished floor. The scent of metal, ozone, and something sterile... like a hospital... filled the air. Machines whirred and clicked rapidly, like thousands of angry wasps encased in steel.


    Massive server towers lined the room, blinking faster than any human heartbeat. It felt like they had entered the nerve center of the organization... the true brain of Imperial Haven. A few screens shed cascading lines of green code; others remained nk, like the shut eyes of sleeping sentinels.


    In front of a particrlyrge screen, a man sat hunched over, fast asleep with his chin resting on his inteced hands. Despite the urge to investigate further, the shadow guards didn¡¯t disturb him. They slipped past silently, eyes always scanning for hidden threats.


    Then, they found something unexpected. Level Five was... luxurious.


    It was thest thing they had anticipated. Instead of servers and steel, they were greeted by avish living space. Soft carpets lined the floor. The walls were elegantly panelled. Arge living room with plush couches and a firece opened into a fully stocked kitchen. There was a modern gym, a stylish office, an impressive library, and multiple bathrooms and bedrooms. Whoever lived here did so in opulence.


    Through arge ss window in the kitchen, they spotted a woman cooking something quietly despite thete hour. She appeared to be in her mid-forties. Only the side of her face was visible, and something about her posture radiated calm confidence.


    Sebastian cautiously approached to get a better look.


    Just as he neared the doorway, the woman suddenly froze, her head turning slightly towards the door. Sensing her heightened perception, Sebastian cursed under his breath and instantly melted into the shadows, retreating without making a sound.


    The guards regrouped silently.


    Just as they were preparing to leave, Raphael noticed something peculiar. A massive painting of snow-capped mountains hung on the wall beside the library. When he touched it, the canvas shifted slightly. He tilted it further, and behind it, a hidden steel door with an electronic panel was revealed.


    It didn¡¯t stop them. The door opened into a vast underground parking space. More than twenty luxury vehicles... BMWs, Lamborghinis, Audis, Rolls-Royces were parked in organized rows. Their polished exteriors gleamed under the soft, white light. The entire floor was pristine, like a private collection rather than an active garage.


    At the far end, they found an underground exit ramp... a tunnel gradually sloping upward. They followed it, cautiously and inplete silence. After about ten minutes, they encountered another security door. This one had a surveince camera pointed toward the ramp.


    Sebastian immediately contacted the U.S. team they had coordinated with. Within moments, the team confirmed the system was automatic... the door only opened for registered vehicles recognized by a digital scanner installed in the camera.


    After a few tense minutes, the U.S. team sessfully hacked the system remotely. The door slid open with a hiss of cold air.


    They stepped into another underground parking space, though this one felt different. They could sense the natural ground above them, and with it... something else. A supernatural presence... subtle but unmistakable... hovered in the space above their heads, like a shadow waiting to awaken.


    They did not linger.


    Identifying the vi that stood above as a potential source of danger, they retreated without hesitation. No nces back. No hesitation.


    Once outside the boundary of the vi, they regrouped in a dense patch of woods, confirming they were nearly half a mile away from Imperial Haven. After contacting Isadora, they rendezvoused at the agreed location and vanished into the night.


    ***


    Meanwhile, Eleanor had slept soundly the night before... perhaps it was the vodka, or maybe the exhaustion of travel and adjusting to the new time zone in Russia. Either way, she hadn¡¯t stirred once.


    She awokete the next morning, unbothered.


    After a refreshing shower, she called for room service, requesting breakfast be brought to her suite. When her meal was done, she lounged for a bit before calling her shadow guards for a debriefing.


    As Sebastian delivered the report, her mood changed. The mention of a possible vampire involved in the syndicate darkened her expression. She tapped a finger against her temple, deep in thought, but pushed the matter aside for the moment.


    "I will take Raphael with me today," she said calmly. "He will drive. Choose two others to apany me. But keep in mind... tonight, we go back to Imperial Haven. I want you all at full capacity."


    Sebastian nodded. "Isadora will apany you. She was on guard dutyst night and still has her strength. I¡¯ll be in the car, but I need to sleep if I¡¯m to be at full strength tonight."


    "Understood," Eleanor said, standing and walking toward the window. "Then rest at the hotel. No need to go with me. I¡¯ll visit the first factory and return for lunch. After that, Raphael and Isadora can rest, and you¡¯ll take their ce for the other visit."


    Sebastian bowed slightly. "Yes, ma¡¯am. That would be best."

 Chapter 98: Six Uninvited Visitors

    <h4>Chapter 98: Six Uninvited Visitors</h4>


    The day passed without incident. Eleanor began her morning by visiting Rossiyskiye Kosmicheskiye Sistemy of the Angstrem Group. The facility specialized in manufacturing radiation-hardened microcontrollers... resilient against cosmic rays and ideal for control modules in orbit. Their analog-to-digital converters (ADCs) and digital signal processors (DSPs) were essential for telemetry data processing andmunication subsystems.


    Theseponents would soon find their ce in the satellite systems of NyxOrbital Technologies, Eleanor¡¯s U.S. based aerospacepany for designing, manufacturing, andunching advanced rockets and spacecraft.


    In the afternoon, she visited Crocus Nano Electronics, a firm producing cutting-edge MRAM (Maoresistive Random-ess Memory). MRAM was non-vtile, radiation-resistant, and capable of operating under extreme conditions... a perfect choice for satellite applications. It served multiple purposes: onboard data logging and storage, boot memory in critical subsystems, navigation cache, and camera data buffering.


    For Eleanor, MRAM also held significant value for Heimdall¡¯s securitywork, the AI-driven surveince and threat-response system she was nning to deploy. These memory chips would ensure uninterrupted frame capture from high-resolution surveince cameras, even during unexpected power outages or signal disturbances.


    Though theseponents were already secured from the U.S. market and weren¡¯t urgently needed, Eleanor ensured long-term supply chains by signing preliminary agreements. The technical discussions and integrations would be handled by professionals from bothpanies in theing weeks.


    By evening, Eleanor and her team returned to their hotel to rest. Everyone understood that the true mission was yet to begin.


    ***


    At exactly midnight local time, the team prepared to move. Raphael sat behind the wheel of a rented ck SUV, dressed in a ck overcoat appropriate for the biting cold of Zelenograd. Eleanor sat beside him in the passenger seat, equally wrapped in elegant but functional attire.


    Behind them, hidden in the shadows of the back seat and rearpartment, were Sebastian, Isadora, ric, and Elias... all fully equipped. Cassandra remained at the hotel as theirst line ofmunication.


    To any observer... like the hotel¡¯s night staff... it appeared as though two tourists were heading out for a midnight drive. Perhaps to enjoy ate casino run or visit one of the city¡¯s exclusive nightclubs. They had no reason to be suspicious. The car¡¯s tracking system will inform them where they went in case of any ident.


    What they didn¡¯t know, however, was that their car¡¯s GPS feed had been hacked, their CCTV camera feed was intercepted, and the guests they were seeing off were on their way to confront one of the most dangerous organizations in Russia.


    Imperial Haven was not just a name... it was a warning. In the underworld of Eastern Europe, even whispering against it could get you killed in an ident. It was a fortress for gangsters, a haven for assassins, and a neutral ground for transactions thew could never touch.


    After about thirty minutes, the car came to a halt on a clearing beside the road, approximately two hundred feet away from the mainpound of Imperial Haven. The air was thick with fog and frost. Raphael stopped the engine. One by one, the others silently disembarked.


    Raphael removed his coat and donned a mask that seamlessly blended with his ck battle suit. The rest were already dressed in identical gear... ck suits with reinforced ting,plete facial masks, and only one feature exposed was their eyes.


    Those unmistakable grey eyes were a mark of the nc n... sharp, intelligent, and always watching. Whether or not a member had awakened their shadow power, the eyes were a symbol of their lineage and their strength.


    Eleanor stood tall among them, her presence striking in contrast. Although not in full battle gear, her purple business suit beneath the overcoat screamed authority. With a single nod, the team began walking toward Imperial Haven.


    ***


    That night seemed no different than usual inside the towering facility. Laughter and conversation echoed in the restaurant on the ground floor, filled with gang members rxing after a day of dubious business. Some drank themselves into stupors; others exchanged stories and gossip. Upstairs, several private rooms were upied with poker games and quiet negotiations.


    Many were already asleep in their rooms on the upper levels.


    At the front desk, two beautiful girls sat chatting with each other. A security monitor on the desk in front of them disyed a group of six people walking toward the building at a rxed pace, captured from several angles by different cameras. However, the girls paid no attention to the screen¡ªafter all, no one dared to cause trouble on their turf. Or so they believed.


    Their gossip was abruptly interrupted when the door slid open and an extraordinarily beautiful woman entered with effortless elegance. She stood nearly six feet tall, with striking silver hair and a long ck overcoat. The moment their eyes met her emerald green gaze, the receptionists felt momentarily lost. Every movement she made... no matter how subtle... was so captivating that both girl forgot what they were supposed to do. It was as if they had been ced under a spell.


    The woman walked to the center of the front hall, removed her ck coat, and revealed a sleek, purple business suit that instantly elevated her striking beauty. She handed the coat to another woman dressed entirely in ck... distinguished only by a single ck ponytail trailing down her back, who took it without a word.


    The receptionists were so mesmerized by the most stunning woman they had ever seen, they failed to notice herpanions. All of them were d in ck battle suits, their bodies fully covered except for their eyes. Unlike the elegant woman, these figures exuded danger. rms rang in the receptionists¡¯ minds at once... these people meant business, and possibly trouble.


    Finally, one of the ck-d figures stepped forward and stopped in front of the desk.


    His voice was muffled yet firm through the mask. "My Madam wishes to speak with your boss... Major General Tatiana Lebedeva. Inform her. Please."


    Both women blinked. For a moment, they didn¡¯t react. Then, after a quick nce at each other, one nervously reached for the inte and dialled the highest-ranking officer she could contact.


    It rang twice before a groggy male voice answered, "What is it?"


    "Sir," she stammered, "there are five masked men and a woman. They¡¯re asking to see the boss."


    "What?" the man snapped, annoyed. "Then call the manager."


    "No, sir. Not our manager. Pakhan! The big boss! They asked for her by name."


    The man on the other end of the line sat bolt upright. "Are you absolutely sure?"


    "Yes, sir," she replied, voice trembling slightly.


    "I¡¯ming." He hung up immediately.


    The security officer jumped out of bed and rushed to the table, hastily flipping open hisptop. He muttered under his breath, urging the machine to boot faster... as if sheer desperation could speed up its loading time.


    Finally, the screen lit up. He clicked a shortcut on the desktop, and a grid of live camera feeds filled the disy. His eyes scanned the interface until he selected the feed showing the reception desk.


    There she was... an unfamiliar woman standing confidently with a group behind her. But what truly made his blood run cold were the masked men dressed in ck. He didn¡¯t know who the woman was, but the sight of her silent, ck uniformed entourage immediately set off internal rms.


    His mind shed back to the ambush from months ago... masked individuals with simr ck suits had attacked their Pakhan¡¯s convoy. They had all been killed in the end, but before that, they managed to kill several of their top fighters, which had shaken the foundation of their organization.


    Without another second of hesitation, he dashed out of his room, ran to the end of the hallway, and opened a ss panel on the wall. Behind it was a red emergency button.


    He pressed it.


    A thunderous rumble rolled through the entire building. Outside, thick steel panels began to descend from the roof, sealing the structure like an armoured fortress. The once-inviting Imperial Haven transformed into a gleaming, imprable citadel under the moonlight.

 Chapter 99: The Containment Operation

    <h4>Chapter 99: The Containment Operation</h4>


    It all started with a misunderstanding.


    Sebastian had clearly stated that they came in peace. No weapons had been drawn. No threats had been made. The receptionist had calmly ryed the request for a meeting... nothing more, nothing less. And yet, within minutes, Imperial Haven had activated its full battle protocol.


    All because of one man¡¯s paranoia.


    To be fair, the security officer couldn¡¯t really be med. He had no idea that this group of ck-clothed visitors bore no connection to the previous attack that had haunted the organization. The figures on the camera looked too simr. Their dark battle suits, the masks, themanding presence... they triggered old memories and even older fears.


    He simply thought isting them was the safest option... to prevent potential reinforcements from joining the scene. But deep down, a more primitive instinct had nudged his decision. The fear of ck-d warriors had rooted itself so deeply within him that even logic took a backseat. Not that he¡¯d ever admit that, of course.


    After initiating the highest-level security lockdown, the officer rushed back to his room. He stared at the camera feed once again, expecting chaos... gunfire, demands, resistance. Instead, he found all six intruders standing perfectly still in the center of the entrance hall.


    Unmoving. Unbothered. Unshaken.


    The calmness in their stance somehow strengthened his resolve. If they were buying time, perhaps they were stalling for backup. That couldn¡¯t be allowed.


    Quickly, he threw on his uniform and secured the holster of his sidearm. A woman, barely dressed and still groggy from sleep, sat on the bed behind him.


    "Close the door," he instructed, his tone urgent but calm. "No matter what happens, don¡¯t open it for anyone but me."


    The woman nodded quickly, tightening the sheets around her. "Okay."


    He spared onest nce at theptop screen, then grabbed it and rushed out the door.


    The officer didn¡¯t bother with the elevator. He was on the third floor and didn¡¯t want to risk dys. Taking the stairs two at a time, he made his way down to the first-floor private box area. Along the corridor, he passed several members of the organization who had gathered and were already whispering about the alert.


    "Follow me," he ordered curtly. They fell into step without question.


    He led them down through the internal staircase to the restaurant on the ground floor. As they approached, the murmur of voices quieted. Everyone in the restaurant turned toward the officer with expectant, uneasy eyes.


    He took a deep breath and addressed them, "Don¡¯t panic. Six intruders have entered Imperial Haven. We suspect they¡¯re here to cause trouble. The building was sealed to prevent any external reinforcements. This is a containment operation."


    He nced around, his voice steady and authoritative. "All security personnel...e with me. The rest of you, remain seated and stay calm."


    Walking toward the central counter, he ced hisptop on the table. The camera feed from the main hall appeared on the screen, showing the six strangers exactly where he¡¯d left them. One woman, elegant andposed, stood at the center. The five others, dressed in full tactical ck, nked her in a semicircle formation. Their bodynguage betrayed no aggression... but also no fear.


    They just stood there.


    Completely still. As if they were the ones in control.


    Turning to the eighteen people who had gathered around him, he spoke firmly, "If we all rush out there at once, it¡¯ll get crowded. That¡¯ll make it harder to keep aim and may escte things unnecessarily. The intruders aren¡¯t visibly armed. If they¡¯re hiding anything, it¡¯s probably handguns. Ten should be enough for now."


    He pointed toward the group. "You eight in the back... stand down and return to your seats. The remaining ten... suit up."


    The ten selected guards quickly pulled bulletproof vests from the hooks beside the counter. They inspected their weapons, checking magazines and loading fresh rounds. Some even switched out for extended clips. Once fully armed, they assembled in front of the officer.


    "Listen closely," he said. "You saw their positions. Don¡¯t let them scatter. Our interior cameras only cover the front hall. If they leave that space, we¡¯ll lose visual and they could disappear into the building. When you exit the restaurant, immediately take control of the surrounding corridors, the staircase, and the elevators."


    He paused to let that sink in, then added, "Approach slowly. Demand their surrender. If they resist, fire at their legs. If they attack... shoot to kill. Aim for the head."


    He swept his gaze across them. "Understood?"


    "Yes, sir!" the ten responded in unison.


    He straightened to full height and raised his right hand to his temple in a formal salute. "Then go show them the strength of Imperial Haven."


    The team snapped to attention and returned the salute, their voices echoing as one: "For Imperial Haven."


    Then, without another word, they turned and exited the restaurant.


    The door shut behind them.


    The officer turned to the remaining eight and said, "Be ready to assist if they need support. Stay alert."


    The eight guards nodded, quickly suiting up and arming themselves. If things turned sour, they would reinforce the first wave in a moment¡¯s notice.


    Meanwhile, other members of the organization... those woken by the sound of strange metallic grinding of the lockdown... began filtering into the restaurant. Most took a seat silently, eyes glued to theptop screen at the counter.


    Tension filled the air.


    ***


    In the front hall, Eleanor stood with her arms folded and her expression t. If anything, she looked more bored than angry. The prolonged silence andck of action were tiresome.


    The rest of the team stood inplete stillness. Their masks concealed their faces, but their posture gave them away. They were bored too.


    Earlier, when the receptionist had nervously contacted her superior and the immediate response had been to seal the building, the team had felt a spark of excitement. A fight seemed inevitable. Under their masks... they had whispered predictions about how the encounter would unfold.


    With their high-grade earpieces, their quiet chatter was imperceptible to outsiders. Even Eleanor, who didn¡¯t join in, found herself amused by their enthusiasm.


    But it had been more than fifteen minutes now. The adrenaline had faded. The anticipation had turned into impatience.


    Members of Imperial Haven asionally peeked into the hall via staircases or the elevator, only to disappear again once they saw the masked group standing in absolute stillness. Aside from the two anxious receptionists... who sat frozen at their desks... no one else remained in the hall.


    Suddenly, both Sebastian and Raphael spoke at once.


    "People areing," said Sebastian.


    "Around ten," Raphael confirmed after scanning with his auditory sensors.


    Sebastian added, "Be prepared for gunfire. In this ce, everyone¡¯s armed."


    He turned his head slightly toward Isadora. "Isadora, protect Madam. We¡¯ll act only if necessary."


    Isadora gave a short nod. "Understood." She checked her stance and took a subtle step closer to Eleanor, positioning herself as a human shield if needed.


    Then came the footsteps.


    Heavy boots echoed in the hall. Secondster, ten armed men entered through the restaurant corridor, their weapons drawn and aimed at the group.


    A burly man with a rough scar running across his cheek barked out in Russian, "Podnimi ruki nad golovoy i vstan¡¯ na koleni. Inache budem strelyat¡¯!"


    He corrected himself quickly, switching to English: "Put your hands above your head and kneel down! Otherwise, we will shoot! On the count of ten... One... Two... Three..."

 Chapter 100: The Carnage

    <h4>Chapter 100: The Carnage</h4>


    Eliasughed, his voice filled with mockery. "They¡¯re asking us to kneel? How amusing!"


    The othersughed too, their voices muffled beneath their sleek, ck masks.


    Sebastian¡¯s calm voice cut through theughter. "Don¡¯t kill anyone. We came in peace. One strike... make them unconscious. On their count... Eight."


    Eleanor stood silently, unmoving in the middle of the chaos, her expression detached. It was as if everything unfolding around her held no relevance to her. The storm of tension and uncertainty barely brushed against her serene, almost indifferent aura.


    Meanwhile, the countdown from the opposing team continued, painfully slow and drawn out, perhaps to psyche themselves up or scare their targets.


    "Six... seven... eight."


    The moment "eight" rang through the hall, four shadow guards moved in a blur, like lightning unleashed.


    Sebastian was the first to reach his target... a burly man with a thick scar running across his left cheek, the same man who had given the order to kneel. With surgical precision, Sebastian struck a hidden nerve cluster just beneath the man¡¯s left ear. The man¡¯s legs gave out immediately, the gun slipping from his grip as he slumped to the floor like a marite with cut strings. He would be unconscious for at least thirty minutes.


    Without missing a beat, Sebastian glided to the next man. A swift strike to the pressure point under the chin, and the second attacker copsed before his eyes could register what had hit him.


    As he turned to find his next opponent, he realized with a blink that there were none left.


    Raphael and Elias were already standing tall. The two had always shared an unspoken rivalry. Raphael excelled with firearms; Elias, with des. But in hand-to-handbat, both believed they were the superior fighter. Unofficially, they had turned this ambush into their own little contest... and each had scored three knockouts.


    Despite their sess, they cursed their luck under their breath for not having more opponents topete over, their grumbling drawing a chuckle from ric and Sebastian.


    The four returned to their previous positions as if they had never moved. The only evidence of what had transpired were the ten unconscious bodies sprawled on the floor like discarded mannequins.


    Behind the front desk, the two receptionists huddled together in terror. As soon as they had realized a fight was imminent, they had ducked under the desk, expecting gunfire to erupt. But after the eerie quiet that followed the count to eight, they only heard dull thuds. No bullets. No screams. Just silence.


    And that silence was somehow worse.


    ***


    In the restaurant, a suffocating stillness had settled. Every pair of eyes was fixed on theptop screen showing the front hall¡¯s live feed. No one spoke.


    The camera had caught everything. The intruders¡¯ movement had been unreal... faster than any trained soldier, faster than Olympic sprinters. Their strikes had been decisive and brutal, dropping their opponents like dominoes.


    "They didn¡¯t even need weapons," it was everyone¡¯s thought at this moment.


    The security officer was the first to break the silence. His voice was grim.


    "Backup team, move in. Open fire immediately. Don¡¯t try to capture them... don¡¯t let them get close to you."


    "Yes, sir!" the eight responded in unison. They stood up, saluted with stern faces, and dered, "For Imperial Haven!"


    They grabbed their weapons and rushed out of the restaurant. These ended their eighteen ex-military professionals... handpicked and highly trained. If they failed, there would be no one else left to stop the intruders. Although all present members were killers and assassins, the security officer didn¡¯t want to rely on them.


    The others in the restaurant stayed seated, eyes glued to the camera feed, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.


    ***


    In the front hall, Elias yawned dramatically. "Where are the rest of them? I thought today would be fun."


    "Be patient," Sebastian replied, his eyes scanning the hallway. "You¡¯re facing people with firearms. You can¡¯t afford to get reckless. And remember... you¡¯re not allowed to transform in front of ordinary humans."


    Finally, Eleanor spoke, her voice calm and cold, as if reading a weather report. "A second team is approaching. They¡¯ll shoot. Neutralize them now."


    Her warning came just a second toote.


    The backup team, having witnessed the earlier confrontation through the camera feed, had learned from theirrades¡¯ mistakes. They entered the hall already firing.


    The shadow team leapt into motion. For them, time slowed. Every bullet moved like msses in the air. They twisted and contorted mid-dash, avoiding the iing fire with a fluidity that defied human limits. Still, a few bullets narrowly grazed them.


    Some shots missed them entirely... but dangerously veered toward Eleanor.


    That was when Isadora moved.


    With the grace of a dancer and the precision of a killer, she pulled a small, gleaming nun chuck from her pocket. Her eyes zed with focus.


    The first bullet screamed toward them.


    She twisted her wrist, and the edge of her nun chuck collided with the bullet mid-air. A metallic chime echoed in the hall, as if a bell had been struck.


    Another shot came... then another.


    She moved like a spectre, her hair swirling behind her like the tail of aet. Each bullet met the same fate: deflected by the impossibly timed arc of her de. Sparks rained around her like falling stars. She didn¡¯t miss a single one.


    Eleanor, who had silently prepared to sidestep if necessary, did not move. She stood her ground, her trust in Isadora unshaken. For the first time, she gave the girl a quiet nod of approval.


    By the time the fourth bullet was neutralized, the shadow guards had already taken down the remaining shooters.


    Eleanor¡¯s voice crackled in their earpieces, calm andposed. "Put them all to sleep. We don¡¯t have time to wait for them to attack. And do not kill anyone."


    Elias and Raphael grinned like children who had just been handed candy.


    "Race you," Elias whispered, already halfway to the restaurant.


    "Toote!" Raphael shot forward, a blur of motion.


    They darted into the restaurant like a pair of wraiths, weapons unnecessary. People barely had time to register their presence before they were struck unconscious. The chaos unfolded in a matter of seconds... bullets shot, chairs overturned, trays ttered to the ground... but there were no screams, only the rhythmic thuds of bodies hitting the floor.


    Sebastian and ric arrived momentster. They stood at the entrance, watching the carnage unfold like amused spectators.


    "This never gets old," Sebastian murmured.


    "Indeed," ric agreed.


    Isadora, meanwhile, silently made her way behind the reception desk, where the two terrified womeny t on the floor. They didn¡¯t even hear her approach.


    "Sorry for the trouble," she said softly.


    Both receptionists gasped and turned to look... but before they could react, Isadora struck swiftly, knocking them unconscious with expert precision.


    She returned to Eleanor¡¯s side without a word, her calm presence a stark contrast to the havoc around her.


    The restaurant was a war zone... albeit bloodless. Nearly every member of Imperial Haven was lying unconscious on the floor. Chairs were overturned, cutlery scattered, and the once pristine space now resembled a battlefield after a silent massacre.


    The security officer stood frozen in ce. His body trembled as he witnessed the results of his decision. These weren¡¯t ordinary intruders. They were monsters in human skin... untouchable, unstoppable.


    Around him, only a handful of restaurant staff remained standing, staring in horror. He knew it was over.


    He raised both hands in the air, voice shaking but loud enough to echo across the room.


    "We surrender!" he shouted.


    Raphael turned toward him, a dark grin forming under his mask. His eyes glinted with quiet fury. He had already found out that this man was the leader of the team, and hadn¡¯t forgotten his subordinate¡¯s earlier arrogance... the demand to kneel.

 Chapter 101: The Meeting of Bosses

    <h4>Chapter 101: The Meeting of Bosses</h4>


    Just as Elias stepped into the restaurant, an assassin lunged at him from the side, a glinting knife aimed straight for his throat. If not for his quick reflexes, the de might have seeded in at least wounding him... if not killing him outright.


    He twisted sharply, dodging the knife by mere inches. In one fluid motion, he seized the attacker¡¯s wrist and stepped into his space. With practiced precision, he bent the man¡¯s arm at an unnatural angle. A bone cracked audibly, and before the man could even scream, Elias mmed his free hand into his temple.


    The man went limp instantly, unconscious.


    Elias flung the attacker aside, and the body crashed into a table, flipping it over and scattering cutlery and sses across the floor.


    There was no time to admire his work.


    Another man charged from behind. Sensing the approach, Elias twisted his torso in a near-impossible contortion, catching the assant mid-lunge. His hand wrapped around the man¡¯s throat and, with a controlled press to a pressure point, knocked him unconscious. The body slumped to the floor with a thud.


    A sudden gunshot cracked across the room. Elias didn¡¯t even flinch.


    He knew the sound well... it was Raphael¡¯s side of the room. And unless someone had silver bullets, there was nothing that could kill his brother-in-arms. He shook his head in irritation. Amateurs!


    Another towering figure... a mountain of a man... came barrelling toward him, fist raised. Elias ducked low and mmed his shoulder into the man¡¯s chest, pushing him off bnce. The attacker threw a wild punch, but Elias caught the arm and twisted.


    There was a sickening crunch.


    The man howled in pain as his elbow shattered. Elias didn¡¯t hesitate. He drove a fist directly into the man¡¯s throat. The blow was so urate that the attacker¡¯s body went rigid before copsing backward, taking two chairs and a small table with him. He didn¡¯t linger, went for more.


    Ten men down. And yet more came.


    Two attackers lifted their pistols and fired at the same time. Elias cursed under his breath and dove to the side. One bullet missed him by a breath, tearing through the air where his head had been.


    The other bullet was more urately aimed... but Elias was faster. Grabbing a nearby table, he tilted it on its edge just in time. The bullet mmed into the surface with a loud crack, forcing him a few steps backward from the impact. His boots scraped across the floor as he struggled momentarily to regain bnce.


    Before the shooters could fire again, Eliasunched forward.


    His body twisted mid-air like a feline, his foot mming into the chest of one man. Using the recoil, he propelled himself at the second shooter andnded a devastating punch across the jaw, knocking the man out cold.


    Both dropped to the floor, unmoving.


    Had Elias not held back, they would be dead.


    Seeing others readying their weapons, Elias wasted no time. He charged like a bolt of lightning, targeting the gunmen first. One by one, they fell... before even realizing what had hit them. After dispatching thest armed attacker, he turned his attention to the remaining members.


    None were spared. He moved like a phantom, leaving a trail of unconscious bodies in his wake.


    ***


    On the other side of the room, Raphael was locked in a fierce duel with a woman wielding a sword. Her movements were sharp and precise... far beyond what he had expected. Despite his superior strength, he found himself on the defensive, unable to break through her relentless strikes. All he could do was evade.


    He couldn¡¯t go all out. If he used his full strength, he might kill her... and that would vite Madam¡¯s strict orders.


    Suddenly, a gunshot rang out.


    Raphael¡¯s instincts kicked in. Not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, the woman quickly pulled back her sword, disrupting the flow of their battle. That brief gap gave him the perfect opening. In a sh, he lunged forward to dodge the bullet, using the momentum to deliver a swift strike aimed at her temple.


    She tried to block... but it was toote. His blownded cleanly. The woman crumpled to the ground, unconscious.


    Frustrated by the time he had lost with the persistent swordswoman, Raphael sped up, moving through the restaurant like a hurricane. His strikes were swift, measured, and calcted. Each movement aimed to incapacitate without killing.


    He finally stopped when there was no one left standing, and the security officer raised his hands in surrender.


    His fists clenched, jaw tight with frustration... he wasn¡¯t ready to stop. The sudden surrender felt unsatisfying, like a fire snuffed out too soon. But before he could act on his irritation, Sebastian¡¯s calm voice rang out from behind him.


    "Okay. We ept your surrender."


    Raphael huffed and walked toward Elias. "How many?" he asked.


    Elias looked at him with mildly sorrowful eyes. "Thirty-four."


    Raphael¡¯s eyes widened. "Fuck! I got thirty-two. Just needed two more."


    Under the mask, Elias smiled. His eyes sparkled with amusement.


    Raphael scowled. "I swear, you cheated somehow."


    Still grumbling, he walked out of the restaurant like a sulking child.


    Sebastian slowly approached the security officer, his expression neutral but firm.


    "This didn¡¯t need to happen," he said quietly. "All we wanted was a meeting with your boss. With our power, we could¡¯ve simply gone underground and forced the meeting. But we asked politely. You didn¡¯t even bother to check before attacking us."


    The officer bit the inside of his cheek. "You attacked first," he wanted to say... but knew better.


    "I apologize," he said instead. "We¡¯ll manage things from here."


    Sebastian¡¯s eyes narrowed. "My Madam has been waiting for quite a while. Are you going to arrange the meeting now... or should we just go break into your boss¡¯s office?"


    "N-No need!" the officer stammered, pulling out his phone. "I¡¯ll call her right now."


    He hesitated, then asked, "Why do you want to meet her?"


    Sebastian, noticing the man¡¯s eyes darting toward the fallen bodies, replied coolly, "Don¡¯t worry. No one¡¯s dead. Within thirty minutes, they¡¯ll all wake up. Some will need medical attention, but those who didn¡¯t resist won¡¯t have anyplications. A few days¡¯ rest will do."


    He paused, then added, "As for why we¡¯re here... your organization sent two assassination squads after my Madam. They were killed. We don¡¯t intend to kill your people indefinitely. Madam decided to end this... once and for all."


    The colour drained from the officer¡¯s face. "So that¡¯s what this was about..." he thought.


    "How did you even know they were from us?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.


    Sebastian smirked. "You¡¯re still doubting us?"


    "N-Not at all!" he quickly said, fumbling with his phone.


    He called his boss.


    "Pakhan... They want to meet. Yes, I understand... I¡¯m sending them to your office now."


    He turned back to Sebastian and nodded. "She¡¯s agreed. Take the elevator and press the (-5) button. That¡¯ll take you to her office. I can¡¯t apany you... I don¡¯t have clearance below Level Two."


    Sebastian gave a curt nod, then grabbed theptop from the desk.


    As he walked in front of Eleanor, he spoke respectfully, "Ma¡¯am, the meeting has been arranged. We need to go to underground five."


    Eleanor nodded once. "Very well."


    She walked toward the lift, her movements calm and unhurried. Isadora pressed the call button, and the doors opened silently.


    They stepped inside.


    When the lift doors opened on underground level five, a ss door awaited them, already ajar. Beyond ity arge office, its luxurious design shadowed by themanding presence of the woman seated inside.


    Tall, poised, and dressed in a military uniform adorned with numerous medals, she radiated authority. Major General Tatiana Lebedeva! Her gaze swept across them without fear or hesitation.


    Eleanor stepped forward and took the seat opposite the desk, silent andposed. The shadow team stood behind her; their presence was quiet but threatening.


    Sebastian moved to the desk and ced theptop down, rotating it to face the woman. The live feed from the front hall yed silently on the screen, showing the aftermath of the carnage above.


    Tatiana spared it a nce. Her expression didn¡¯t change. Not a word escaped her lips.

 Chapter 102: The Vampires

    <h4>Chapter 102: The Vampires</h4>


    Tatiana had never seen the young woman sitting across from her. She was unfamiliar... unknown in the criminal underworld and certainly not someone who should have any quarrel with Imperial Haven. And yet, here she was, calm and unbothered, having walked through Tatiana¡¯s defences like a knife through butter. The power her subordinates had demonstrated was not something Tatiana could overlook.


    She studied the woman quietly for a few moments. Despite the tension in the air, this girl remainedposed. Not a flicker of fear or any other emotions. Tatiana narrowed her eyes. She decided to test the waters... with intimidation.


    "Young Miss," Tatiana said, voice steady, slow, measured, "I don¡¯t know who you are, but this is not a ce where you can run wild and do as you please. Don¡¯t assume that the small fries you defeated are the backbone of Imperial Haven. If that were true, I wouldn¡¯t have held this post for years. What you did here... damaging property, harming my men... you¡¯ll need to pay for it."


    Her gaze hardened. "You¡¯re locked in here with me now. The facility is sealed. No one from the outside can help you. So, I suggest you start cooperating."


    But Eleanor remained perfectly still, her expression unchanged. If anything, she looked more bored than threatened.


    "Major General Tatiana Lebedeva," Eleanor said in a voice so calm it felt like a breeze before a storm, "even after retirement, you wear your uniform in hopes of inspiring fear. I¡¯m sorry to tell you... it didn¡¯t work. And even if you were still in active service... I still wouldn¡¯t care."


    Tatiana¡¯s brows furrowed.


    "I came here to talk," Eleanor continued. "But your people made it abundantly clear that diplomacy wasn¡¯t wee. Two of your teams attempted to kill me. They¡¯re now buried beneath the ocean. I didn¡¯te to pick a fight... I came to end one."


    Her eyes shifted briefly to theptop screen that showed live footage of the hall.


    "You think sealing the ce and jamming signals would prevent me from reaching the outside?" she asked dryly. "That¡¯s cute. But I don¡¯t allow others to control my surroundings."


    With that, Eleanor reached for the chain around her neck and pulled out a diamond pendant. It shimmered with elegance, catching the dim light. She pressed it lightly.


    A brilliant glow erupted from the gem, casting dancing reflections on the walls. Everyone in the room paused, momentarily entranced by the spectacle.


    Then, a deep male voice came from the pendant, smooth and respectful.


    "Boss! What can I do for you?"


    "Take control of every camera within a one-mile radius," Eleanor said without missing a beat. "Wipe any footage that captured me. There¡¯s a jammer nearby. Disable it."


    "Understood, Boss."


    Tatiana sat stiffly in her chair, uncertain whether to speak or remain silent. Her instincts told her not to interrupt.


    A couple of minutester, the voice returned.


    "It¡¯s done."


    "Good. Now shut down all the cameras near my current location."


    Instantly, the screen in front of them went dark. The live feed blinked out. Eleanor pressed the pendant again and tucked it back under her suit.


    Tatiana¡¯sposed expression wavered. She tried to hide it, but the anxiety was beginning to show.


    "You can use your phone now," Eleanor said calmly.


    Tatiana hesitated, then asked in disbelief, "Who... who are you? How can you do something like this?"


    Before Eleanor could answer, her sharp senses caught something unusual. She sniffed the air, then frowned.


    "Vampires," she muttered, her tone darkening.


    She turned to Sebastian. "Go. Deal with them."


    Without hesitation, the Shadow Team sped out from the room, their speed defiedmon sense.


    Only Isadora remained.


    "You should go too," Eleanor told her. "There are five of them. It won¡¯t be easy."


    Isadora nodded once, then sped out like the others.


    Eleanor turned her attention back to Tatiana, who was clearly unsettled. Both of them silently stared at each other.


    In truth, Eleanor was monitoring the battle taking ce in the underground parking lot. The vampires were on the upper hand, but the moment Isadora joined the fight, the battle evened out. One-on-one duels began to form between the attackers and the Shadow Team. Satisfied, Eleanor withdrew her mental presence and refocused.


    "This was your main force?" she asked Tatiana. "Don¡¯t worry. They won¡¯t interfere with my work. As for how I could control your systems... simple. I control the sky."


    Tatiana stared at her. The quiet confidence in Eleanor¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t arrogance... it was certainty.


    "I don¡¯t know who disturbed your peace," Tatiana finally said. "But we receive missions. We don¡¯t interfere. We just execute."


    "I don¡¯t need you to interfere," Eleanor cut in. "I want the name of the person who posted the mission. Once I kill them, the mission ends."


    The cold directness in her words made Tatiana flinch. For Eleanor, this wasn¡¯t vengeance... it was procedure.


    "I didn¡¯t kill any of your people," Eleanor added. "Not yet. And I hope you won¡¯t give me a reason to. But if you insist... I don¡¯t mind adding a few more names to my long list."


    This time, Tatiana nodded, defeated.


    "If you give me your name and the location where you were attacked," she said quietly, "I can try to find who issued the mission."


    "Name: Eleanor. Location: Manchester."


    Tatiana reached for the inte and spoke into it, "Find out who requested a hit on a woman named Eleanor, based out of Manchester. I want full details."


    She ced the receiver down and looked back at Eleanor. "Please wait. My men will deliver what you seek."


    But before Eleanor could reply, she suddenly froze... eyes widening in rm.


    She bolted from the room.


    Tatiana barely registered a blur. By the time she stood up, Eleanor was already gone. Horror filled her heart. "What kind of monster have we invited into our walls?" That was the only thought in her mind.


    When Eleanor reached the parking lot, she was alreadyte.


    Her five shadow guards were locked in fiercebat with five vampires, the sh of des and fists echoing through the air. The battle was in a deadlock... each fighter evenly matched, neither side gaining ground.


    But then, a blur of movement came from outside the fray... a noble vampire. Faster, stronger, and far more lethal than the others. Without warning, he mmed a brutal kick into ric¡¯s side. Caught off guard while parrying another vampire¡¯s strike, ric had no chance to dodge. The force of the blow sent him crashing to the ground, skidding across the pavement.


    Before he could recover, the noble vampire lunged again. This time, his punch aimed straight for ric¡¯s head... swift, deadly, and final.


    In that frozen moment, as the attack descended, ric saw his life sh before his eyes... every memory, every sess, every failure. He knew. He was going to die.


    But the blow nevernded.


    Eleanor¡¯s foot connected with the noble vampire¡¯s ribs just in time. He was flung across the parking space, crashing into a reinforced pir. Cracks spiderwebbed across the concrete.


    Enraged, Eleanor walked forward, murder in her eyes.


    But before she could strike again, another vampire leapt in front of the noble. He spread his arms, shielding him.


    "Please," the man said urgently. "Miss Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, please spare him. He¡¯s one of the few purebloods left in my lord¡¯s n. I deeply apologize for his reckless actions."


    Eleanor narrowed her eyes. The man had spoken her full name.


    At his appearance, the remaining vampires abandoned the fight and dropped to one knee. Even the injured noble remained lying silent.


    "You know my name," she said coldly. "So, tell me yours."


    The man bowed deeply.


    "I am Dimitry Petrov, Knight of the Night Council. I serve under Lord Alexander Ivanov of Greater Caucasus, the caretaker of Eastern Europe, a respected member of the High Council."

 Chapter 103: The Ascendant

    <h4>Chapter 103: The Ascendant</h4>


    Upon hearing the identity of the neer, Eleanor¡¯s sharp mind quickly processed what it meant. Dmitry Petrov, a Knight of the Night Council, wasn¡¯t just any vampire. His title alone signified his seniority and rank. To be entrusted with such a position, he must be one of the old monsters... those who had lived for several centuries, perhaps even longer. The fact that the other vampires had immediately knelt to him confirmed her suspicion. He wasn¡¯t someone to trifle with.


    Still, Eleanor was no ordinary young woman.


    As the future head of the Raynor n, her status as a Young Miss was just as significant. She was destined to inherit a seat on the Werewolf Council... an institution of equal standing to the High Council of vampires. This vampire, Dmitry, clearly knew that. His bowing, his respectful posture... it wasn¡¯t just courtesy. It was an acknowledgement.


    "He bowed first," she noted with satisfaction. That says enough.


    Yet, another thought crept into her mind... one far less reassuring.


    This man had to be immensely powerful. He had arrived just in time to save the noble vampire from death. The timing was too perfect. Which meant... he had been following her from the start. That realization sent a flicker of unease down her spine.


    "But how did he avoid my senses?" she wondered. "Even with my heightened awareness, I didn¡¯t feel a thing."


    It made one thing abundantly clear: if a battle had erupted between them, she might not have won.


    Now that her thoughts had settled, she chose her words carefully.


    "Greetings, Knight Petrov," she said with a calm nod. "I came here merely to gather information, not to harm anyone. I instructed my team not to kill. If that weren¡¯t the case, this entire ce would be filled with corpses. My people were simply buying time while I negotiated with Major General Tatiana Lebedeva."


    Her eyes flickered toward the noble vampire who had just managed to sit upright. Her tone sharpened. "Out of respect for your request, I will spare this ignorant one. However, while capital punishment may be off the table,pensation must be made. He attempted to kill my guard while he was already engaged in a one-on-one duel. That is not only dishonourable... a disgrace to your lord¡¯s name."


    Dmitry inclined his head respectfully. "Of course, Young Miss. I will personally report the matter to my lord. But before that, may I offer a token of assistance? I have a healing pill that may help your injured guard recover more quickly."


    He stepped forward with grace and ease, and with a small motion of his fingers, a green pill shimmered into existence in his palm.


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. Dimensional ring!


    To the untrained eye, it might seem like a simple magic trick. But she knew better. Dimensional rings... artefacts that could store items in their own pocket space, were extremely rare. While a few such rings were avable within the Raynor n, only those who had reached the Ascendant stage could use them.


    This man was an Ascendant-level vampire.


    And the pill he offered, though not extremely potent... was a recognized healing supplement. Costly and hard to manufacture, even the Raynor n didn¡¯t use them casually.


    Inwardly, Eleanor was thankful for her earlier caution. She had chosen not to provoke him, and clearly, that had been the right decision.


    "Thank you, Knight Petrov," she said, epting the pill. "Please convey my greetings to Lord Alexander Ivanov. Once I finish my work here, I will leave his territory without dy."


    Dmitry gave a courteous bow. "There¡¯s no need for concern. Leave that matter to me. You may return to your hotel and rest for the night. I will personally deliver the information you seek by tomorrow morning."


    Eleanor nodded. "Then I thank you for your trouble."


    With that, she turned to ric, who had just managed to get to his feet despite his injuries. Handing him the green pill, she said, "Take this. You don¡¯t need water."


    ric lifted his mask slightly and ced the pill in his mouth. As it dissolved, warmth spread through his body. A tingling sensation followed, healing his wounds at a visible pace. His breathing steadied, and he stood straighter.


    "Let¡¯s go," Eleanor said firmly.


    The Shadow Team fell into formation behind her. Together, they walked into the Imperial Haven once again, heading toward the elevator.


    Eleanor paused outside Major General Tatiana Lebedeva¡¯s room. The woman was still seated, her posture rigid, her face unreadable.


    "Our meeting is concluded, General," Eleanor said from the doorway. "It was... enlightening. You may open the front door now."


    Tatiana stood slowly; her voice was cool but respectful. "Thank you. I hope our next meeting takes ce under better circumstances."


    "You are wee to visit the Kingdom anytime," Eleanor replied, stepping into the elevator. She turned and gave one final look. "You know where to find me."


    The elevator doors closed, and within seconds, they were on the ground floor again. The front hall was empty, eerily quiet. The steel doors at the entrance remained sealed.


    The team stood silently, waiting for the gates to rise.


    Suddenly, Raphael broke the silence. "Ma¡¯am, I¡¯d like you to meet someone. Please wait... I¡¯ll bring her here."


    Without waiting for a response, he turned and sprinted back toward the restaurant.


    Inside, most of the injured members of the Imperial Haven had regained consciousness. Some were receiving basic medical treatment. Others sat quietly, still trying toprehend the whirlwind events that had just urred.


    When Raphael re-entered, a visible shudder ran through the room. People flinched, turned their eyes away, and held their breath.


    Raphael ignored them. His sharp gaze scanned the room until itnded on the spot where the sword-wielding woman had previously been. She wasn¡¯t there.


    "Where¡¯s the sworddy?" he asked aloud.


    Before anyone could respond, he spotted her near the counter, assisting a doctor in tending to a burly man.


    He pointed directly at her. "You! Sworddy. Come with me."


    The woman looked stunned. "Me?" she asked hesitantly.


    "Yes. You," he confirmed with a nod. "Come on."


    She froze for a moment, confused and nervous. Whispers spread through the room. Everyone assumed she was being taken away for punishment.


    Without any option, she followed him.


    When they reached Eleanor, Raphael stepped forward. "Ma¡¯am, she¡¯s a damn good swordfighter. I like her. If you allow it, I want to take her with us."


    Stunned silence followed his deration. Even Eleanor raised an eyebrow. The woman looked more bewildered than anyone.


    Eleanor sighed. "Raphael, we¡¯re not kidnapping anyone. Did you even ask if thedy is willing toe with us? Do you know who she is or what her background is? If you¡¯re thinking of recruiting her, you should know by now... I have very high standards."


    Scratching the back of his masked head, Raphael muttered, "I might¡¯ve rushed this..."


    He turned to the woman. "Are you willing?"


    The woman hesitated. "I... I¡¯m wanted by Interpol. Wouldn¡¯t that cause problems for you?"


    Eleanor stepped in smoothly. "That¡¯s my concern, not yours. You just need to decide whether you want a different path."


    Then, after a pause, she added, "Raphael speaks highly of you. I¡¯ll offer you a chance. We¡¯ll be at Benedict Hotel tomorrow morning. If you¡¯re interested,e for an interview."


    Just then, the steel doors groaned and rumbled as they began to rise. Eleanor nced outside.


    "Let¡¯s go," she said simply.


    She walked out with the same elegance and authority she always carried. The others followed behind.


    Only the swordswoman stood there, looking at them with conflicted eyes.

 Chapter 104: She is Rich

    <h4>Chapter 104: She is Rich</h4>


    In the underground parking lot beside Imperial Haven, Knight Dimitry Petrov approached the young noble vampire who was still recovering from his earlier ordeal. Without a word, Dimitry handed him a small green juice pack. Though it looked like an ordinary drink box to the untrained eye, the pack contained something far more potent... specially refined human blood infused with healing herbs.


    The young vampire, Roman Ivanov, epted the pack with a grateful nod. He tore open the packaging and inserted the straw, then eagerly drank its contents. As the liquid slid down his throat, a warm surge of power spread through his body. The paleness in his face vanished almost instantly, and the visible injuries from his previous confrontation began healing at a rapid pace.


    Vampires, as always, relied on blood as their primary food. But in the modern world, they no longer needed to drink it directly from human beings. Advances in biotechnology had revolutionized their dietary habits. Specializedpanies now sourced the most potent human blood samples... usually from individuals with rare gic markers or exceptional vitality, and cloned those samples in vast quantities. The cloned blood, once processed and enhanced with medicinal herbs, was sealed in containers indistinguishable from standard juice packs on the outside.


    To the average human, these packs would seem harmless, even if identally consumed. The scent, taste, and consistency were altered to mimic fruit juice. But to vampires, each coloured pack served a specific purpose.


    Green packs, like the one Roman had just consumed, were designed for rapid recovery and regeneration. Red packs helped suppress bloodlust. Yellow, pink, and white packs weremonly used for daily nourishment. However, these packs were not avable in ordinary retail stores. Only vampire-operated shops, clubs, and gas stations were authorized to distribute them. Most ns maintained direct supply contracts with the manufacturers to ensure their stock never ran out.


    Roman stood up with renewed energy, bowed slightly, and said, "Thank you, Sir Petrov. Thank you for saving my life."


    Dimitry¡¯s mouth twitched slightly. The young man had misunderstood the situationpletely. He was never truly at risk of dying. All Dimitry had done was step in to stop him from receiving a much-deserved beating. But the sheer intensity of Eleanor Raynor¡¯s killing intent must have convinced the boy otherwise.


    Still, Dimitry chose not to correct him. Let him believe that, he thought. It¡¯ll serve as a much-needed wake-up call. Maybe next time, he¡¯ll learn to think before acting.


    "It was no trouble," Dimitry said coolly. "How could I let a werewolf intrude on our turf and harm one of our own? But you were lucky. If my lord hadn¡¯t instructed me to keep an eye on that girl, I wouldn¡¯t have been there in time."


    Then his tone hardened. "But you acted recklessly. You should have stayed back and observed. That was a one-on-one duel... a test of strength and discipline, not an open brawl. By interfering, you not only risked your life but disgraced your n. My lord will not be pleased."


    Roman lowered his head in shame. His ears turned red, and he clenched his fists in frustration.


    Dimitry continued, "You are nearly a hundred years old, Roman. Yet you fail to understand the rules of supernaturalbat. Death is not the goal unless explicitly dered. Injuries, even severe ones, are expected. Your subordinates were in no mortal danger. And now, to make matters worse, you were overpowered by a werewolf who hasn¡¯t even reached thirty."


    Roman looked up, stunned. "S-she¡¯s that young?"


    Dimitry nodded, his expression unreadable. "Indeed. And still, she was too much for you."


    There was a long pause before he added, "You neglected your training and indulged too much in luxury. That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t even realize a powerful presence around you. You either didn¡¯t read the rules of the supernatural world or ignored them... and that¡¯s why you got involved in a fight that wasn¡¯t yours to begin with. I think you should return to the n and train for a while."


    Roman¡¯s shoulders slumped. "You¡¯re right, Sir Petrov. I should return for more training. It was embarrassing to lose like that to a wolf. She was far too powerful for me."


    He paused, then asked, "By the way, she didn¡¯t disy any abilities during the fight, did she? What¡¯s her power?"


    Dimitry smiled and replied, "She¡¯s rich."


    Roman thought he had misheard and blurted out, "What?"


    Dimitry said again, "She¡¯s rich. She has several hundred billion dors under her name. As for her n... no one knows much. What we do know is... they¡¯re the richest n in the world."


    Roman immediately eximed, "The Raynor n!"


    Dimitry nodded. "Yes. That was Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, the Young Miss of the Raynor n... heir to one of the most powerful and wealthiest ns in the supernatural world. Future head of her n and a soon-to-be member of the Werewolf Council. Why do you think the Lord asked me to follow her and why I showed her so much respect, even though she¡¯s a werewolf and technically weaker than me?"


    Roman simply nodded, overwhelmed. The revtion had shaken him to the core.


    Dimitry said, "Now go and assess how much your organization has suffered today. I¡¯m leaving for now. Make sure the information she asked for is ready... I¡¯ll be back tomorrow morning."


    With that, Dimitry vanished into the shadows. Momentster, he appeared at the front gate of Imperial Haven. Scanning the area, he confirmed that Eleanor and her team had already departed. He let out a breath of relief before disappearing once again.


    ***


    In a vast hall adorned with crimson banners and gothic chandeliers, Lord Alexander Ivanov sat upon a throne carved from ck obsidian and iid with rare gemstones. The very air around him seemed to hum with authority.


    Before him knelt a tall man with grey hair and a steely gaze... Julian Vihren, one of his subordinates and the head of the Vihren n of Bulgaria. Julian hade to seek his support for a n-rted issue.


    Alexander¡¯s deep voice echoed slightly through the chamber. "Send a formal letter ofint to the Danube Delta n of merfolk. Inform them that their recent activities in the ck Sea region are viting the rules of engagement between supernaturalmunities. Tell them you consulted me, and that I advised a formal diplomatic approach. Report back once you receive a reply."


    Seated beside him was a striking young woman with icy blue eyes and an air of quiet authority... Anastasiya Ivanova, his granddaughter. She nodded in agreement.


    "This is the third time, Grandfather," she said sharply. "The merfolk are pushing boundaries. We need to show strength."


    Alexander sighed. "I know. But they¡¯re still another race. If we act too harshly, we risk upsetting the bnce of our alliances. That damned dragon already uses us of bullying weaker races."


    At that moment, Dimitry entered to the hall and knelt before the throne.


    "Julian Vihren," Alexander said without looking away from Dimitry. "You are dismissed. Submit a full report of your actions to Bogdan Korolev."


    Bogdan, the scribe standing behind the throne, nodded and made a note on his tablet. Julian bowed respectfully and exited the hall.


    "Dimitry," Alexander said, leaning forward slightly. "You may speak."

 Chapter 105: Moonpetal Flower

    <h4>Chapter 105: Moonpetal Flower</h4>


    Knight Dimitry Petrov remained kneeling as he delivered his report to Lord Alexander Ivanov. The hall, draped in regal crimson and silver banners, was silent except for the calm cadence of Dimitry¡¯s voice. He recounted everything that had transpired at Imperial Haven the previously.


    When Dimitry confirmed that Roman Ivanov was alive and the situation had not escted into a full-scale conflict, Alexander leaned back in his throne with a heavy sigh of relief.


    "You did well," Alexander said, his voice calm butyered with concern. "From the moment she stepped foot in Moscow, I feared something like this would happen. Many of our younger n members are arrogant... rash even. They could¡¯ve easily provoked her."


    He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "You should continue following her discreetly until she leaves Russia. I don¡¯t want any further incidents."


    After a pause, he added, "Are you absolutely sure she didn¡¯t visit any bars or casinos? No nightclubs? No strange meetings?"


    Dimitry shook his head. "I¡¯m certain, My Lord. She never left her hotel room except for work. No suspicious outings. No nightlife."


    Alexander arched a brow. "What did she do in her room all this time?"


    "I don¡¯t know exactly," Dimitry admitted. "ording to hotel staff, she requested a bottle of Beluga Gold Line Vodka upon check-in. Other than that, she ordered different gourmet meals for each of her three daily meals. And that¡¯s it. Even her subordinates weren¡¯t allowed inside her room without a clear reason."


    Alexander let out a small chuckle. "What an interesting girl. Fiona raised her well."


    Then he turned toward his granddaughter, who sat beside her on another seat. "Anastasiya, look at your brothers and sisters... indulging in luxury, traveling the world without a care. And then look at Eleanor Raynor. She had over two hundred billion dors in assets under her name before the age of thirty."


    His tone grew heavy. "And don¡¯t assume she got it all from her family. I heard she returned the entire investment her family gave her at the start of her business ventures. Everything she owns now, she built on her own."


    He exhaled a long, slow breath. "And what have my descendants done? They keep taking from the family treasury. Even the ones who manage to run sessful businesses never repay what they borrowed. During our youth, we had to fight wars to protect every coin we earned. Now, the younger generation just drowns in luxury. With each passing decade, they grow weaker."


    There was a sharpness in his eyes now... a deep frustrationced with worry.


    "I fear the day maye when they won¡¯t even be able to defend their own territory."


    Reaching into his dimensional ring, Alexander retrieved a small jade bottle, etched with ancient runes. He handed it to Anastasiya.


    She peered inside and gasped, "Is this... a Moonpetal Flower?"


    Alexander gave a rare smile. "Yes. I found it by ident several years ago while exploring the ruins of an old temple in Tibet. It holds no power for us vampires, but for werewolves... it could be a treasure beyond measure."


    He leaned back, his voice calm and contemtive. "I decided then that if I ever met a werewolf worthy of it, I would pass it on."


    Anastasiya clutched the bottle with newfound reverence. "I read that if an awakened werewolf absorbs the Moonpetal Flower under a full moon, it can trigger the awakening of their dormant bloodline. They could even gain the ability to wield more than one supernatural power."


    Alexander¡¯s face lit up with pride. "Good. I¡¯ve always said that knowledge is the key to dominance. I¡¯ve encouraged all of you to study, but only you took my words to heart. You¡¯re the only one among my grandchildren who truly loves learning. That¡¯s why I favour you more."


    He continued, "We vampires are blessed with long lives. But if we stop learning, stop adapting... we will be overtaken by time. Our survival depends on our knowledge."


    He looked away from Anastasiya, his gaze settling on Dimitry again. "You should go with Dimitry. Deliver the flower to Eleanor on my behalf. I want her to know this is a gift from the Ivanov n... a gesture of goodwill."


    Then turned to Anastasiya, he added, "You should form a rtionship with her. If possible, propose a joint business venture. That girl has a rare gift. I¡¯ve heard she acquires small, dyingpanies and turns them into profitable empires. Even bankrupt enterprises thrive under her leadership. You could learn much from her."


    Anastasiya smiled. "Understood, Grandpa. I¡¯ll do as you wish."


    Alexander nodded, satisfied. "It¡¯s already morning. Dimitry, take care of Anastasiya."


    Anastasiya rolled her eyes. "Grandpa, I¡¯m not a child. I can take care of myself."


    She turned and walked toward the exit. Dimitry followed behind, giving Alexander a formal bow before leaving.


    After the heavy doors shut, Alexander turned to his advisor.


    "Bogdan, what do you think? Will Anastasiya seed in her mission?"


    Bogdan, who had stood silently throughout the exchange, responded, "I hope so, my Lord. But Eleanor Raynor is no ordinary girl."


    Alexander let out a low chuckle. "Indeed. That¡¯s what makes her so fascinating."


    Then, without another word, the n head rose from his throne and stepped toward the elevator behind it. The doors slid open with a whisper, and he disappeared into the depths of the estate.


    ***


    Eleanor stirred awake in her suite, sunlight streaming softly through the curtains. She nced at the clock... it was nearly eleven in the morning. With a yawn, she reached for her phone and immediately called Ethan.


    "We¡¯re outside the school," Ethan said, picking up immediately.


    Then came Freya¡¯s cheerful voice. "Hello, Mommy! You¡¯rete. I¡¯m about to go in!"


    Eleanor smiled, her heart melting. "Mommy was busy, sweetie. Call me after school, okay?"


    "Okay, Mommy. Bute back soon. I miss you!"


    "Mommy misses you too. Have a good day at school. Bye!"


    She ended the call, not wanting to disturb them further. Still smiling, she opened the live feed from Freya¡¯s ssroom. After a few minutes, she spotted her daughter walking in, chatting cheerfully with her ssmates. Miss Cooper soon entered, and the children quickly took their seats.


    It had be a habit of Eleanor¡¯s... whenever she had free time, she tuned in to Freya¡¯s school life. Watching her daughter grow, interact, and flourish always brought her peace and joy.


    With a contented sigh, Eleanor ced the phone down and called room service. As she waited for breakfast, she headed into the bathroom to freshen up.


    After a warm shower, she changed into afortable yet stylish casual outfit and returned to her phone to check on Freya again.


    A knock at the door interrupted her. She opened it to find Cassandra standing beside a hotel staff member carrying her breakfast.


    Once the meal was set, the staff left.


    Cassandra remained behind and said, "This morning, a woman came asking to meet you. She addressed you as ¡¯Raphael¡¯s boss,¡¯ which confused the reception staff. They called me immediately."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "And?"


    "After speaking with Raphael, I realized she was here for the interview you arranged. She didn¡¯t bring a CV, so I gathered her information by asking her and emailed it to you."


    Eleanor checked her inbox and her eyes widened. "She was a Jaeger Corps member... wanted for mass murder of 104 people?! That¡¯s what she said?"


    Cassandra nodded. "Yes. ording to her, those individuals were part of a human organ trafficking ring. One of them was a sitting minister, which is what turned the authorities against her. Her former colleagues helped her escape the country. She¡¯s been hiding in Russia to avoid Interpol."


    Eleanor looked at her sharply. "Did you verify her story?"


    "I called Miss Li for guidance on the recruitment process," Cassandra replied. "Following her advice, Ipiled a report and sent it to her for review. I am waiting for her reply now."

 Chapter 106: Laila Hasanovi?

    <h4>Chapter 106: La Hasanovi?</h4>


    Before Eleanor finished her breakfast, Cassandra received a reply from Teresa. The information La had provided was verified and confirmed. Along with the findings, Teresa had also sent ssified documents, including La Hasanovi?¡¯s service record, her Interpol profile, and banking activity logs.


    La Hasanovi?, that was the swordswoman¡¯s full name. Her file revealed an impressive military background. She had once held the rank of Captain in the Jaeger Corps, Denmark¡¯s elite Special Operations Division. Her record was decorated with multiple medals andmendations, awarded for her role in joint operations alongside NATO and coalition special forces.


    During her active years, La was hailed as a rising star... a disciplined, daring operative known for her precision and calm under pressure. Her leadership in hostage rescues, urban infiltration missions, and cross-border intelligence-gathering operations earned her the trust ofmanding officers and respect from her peers.


    However, her brilliant career had ended abruptly.


    Her file was marked with a red tag: Dishonourably Discharged.


    The reason? The "unauthorized killing of 104 individuals"... a sanitized military euphemism. ording to Interpol, her actions were ressified as the targeted killing of civilians and political figures, allegedly driven by a personal vendetta.


    The gravity of her record was in stark contrast to her calm demeanour. As the hotel staff cleared the table, Cassandra quietly excused herself and called La to Eleanor¡¯s room.


    Momentster, the door opened and La stepped in. She was dressed simply... her posture straight, her eyes clear, and her steps measured. She bowed her head politely. "Good morning."


    Eleanor gestured to the opposite sofa. "Please, have a seat."


    "Thank you." La took her seat, her hands folded calmly on herp.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t waste time. "Why did you kill all those people?"


    There was no hesitation in La¡¯s gaze. "My father died when I was a child. My mother passed away during my training years in the army. I was an only child, so our family home always felt empty. One of our neighbours... a kind couple looked after the house in my absence. They had a little boy. Mischievous, but bright. I was fond of him."


    She paused for a moment, a shadow passing over her expression.


    "After one of our joint operations abroad, I was granted a week¡¯s leave. When I returned home, I found out the boy had gone missing three days earlier. The police had no leads, no suspects... nothing."


    Her voice hardened. "I couldn¡¯t sit idly. Iunched my own search. I traced him... and found him dead. His body had already been harvested for organs. Stored in cargo, ready to be trafficked abroad. I discovered several other kidnapped children there, barely alive."


    Her jaw clenched. "I called the local police to rescue them. Then I lost control. I ughtered every person involved. I interrogated them before they died. The information they gave led me up the chain... through corrupt officials, traffickers, and finally to a high-ranking minister."


    Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I killed them all."


    Eleanor listened in silence, her expression unreadable.


    "I was thorough in execution, but in my rage, I overlooked the politics. Many of the people I killed had public support and a carefully manufactured clean image. The minister¡¯s party turned public opinion against me. My own government needed a scapegoat. My dishonourable discharge was swift."


    La took a slow breath, steadying herself. "Despite everything, many of my formerrades understood. Some even helped me escape. Denmark no longer had a ce for me. I had no family left. I fled to Russia and joined Imperial Haven. It¡¯s been over five years since."


    The room fell into heavy silence.


    Eleanor finally spoke, "You are currently protected by Imperial Haven. Why do you want to leave now?"


    La¡¯s lips curled into a wry smile. "Because I¡¯m tired of surviving. I want to start living. I don¡¯t know your exact situation, but someone like you... with strong fighters at your side... must have influence. I thought maybe, just maybe, you could give me a new life."


    She added, "Always living under surveince in one ce is suffocating. I want freedom. A chance to contribute, to live openly... even if under a different name. I don¡¯t mind working. I just don¡¯t want to hide like a fugitive forever."


    Eleanor studied her for a long moment. "What exactly do you want from me?"


    La answered calmly, "A new identity. One that Interpol won¡¯t question. In return, I offer my sword and my loyalty... but I won¡¯t do anything that goes against my values. No assassinations. No underhanded political jobs. Just honest security work."


    Eleanor¡¯s voice remained neutral. "I think you misunderstand. I am not running an organization like Imperial Haven. I¡¯m a businesswoman. The people around me are my staff, my guards. Raphael thought you might be useful as part of my security team... that¡¯s the only reason I called you here."


    La blinked. She had not expected that.


    "I can help you," Eleanor continued. "I can provide you with a clean identity, a secure job, and the ability to travel freely. But the pay will be standard corporate pay... not mercenary rates. You¡¯ll be part of a formalpany structure."


    Without missing a beat, La replied, "I ept."


    "Very well," Eleanor said, giving her a nod. "Cassandra will take you to arrange the necessary documents."


    She turned to her assistant. "Call Teresa. Ask her to create a new name and legal identity for La. She will be working at our Trafford Command Center."


    "Yes, Boss." Cassandra bowed slightly and left the room with La following close behind.


    Once the room returned to silence, Eleanor sighed and picked up herptop. A flood of emails, reports, and performance reviews awaited her. She immersed herself in work.


    Time passed. Several hourster, Cassandra returned, this time with a message.


    "Boss, a man named Dimitry Petrov is here to see you."


    Eleanor nodded. "Bring him in."


    A momentter, Dimitry entered with a beautiful young woman beside him. Eleanor stood up to greet them.


    "Knight Petrov," she said with a smile. "It¡¯s good to see you again."


    Dimitry gave a respectful bow. "Young Miss, I hope I¡¯m not interrupting your morning."


    "Not at all," Eleanor replied. "In fact, I was expecting you. Please, make yourselffortable. Cassandra, bring another chair."


    There were only two sofas in the lounge area. Cassandra brought a chair from the dining table and ced it neatly by the coffee table.


    Dimitry remained standing and gestured toward the young woman beside him. "Let me introduce Miss Anastasiya Ivanova, the most beloved granddaughter of Lord Alexander Ivanov. She hase on his behalf to deliver a message... and a gift."


    Anastasiya stepped forward and extended her hand. "It¡¯s a pleasure to finally meet you. My grandfather speaks highly of you."


    Eleanor shook her hand firmly. "The pleasure is mine. Please, sit."


    Eleanor noticed how Anastasiya took the sofa, while Dimitry sat in the chair. It subtly confirmed Anastasiya¡¯s higher standing within the n.


    With a graceful motion, Anastasiya retrieved a jade bottle from her elegant handbag and extended it to Eleanor.


    "This," she said, "is the Moonpetal Flower, one of my grandfather¡¯s treasured items. He wishes you to have it."


    Eleanor epted the bottle with both hands. She didn¡¯t even nce inside, but said respectfully, "Please thank Lord Ivanov for his generosity. I must admit, I wasn¡¯t prepared for this meeting and have no gift to return."


    Anastasiya smiled warmly. "Don¡¯t worry. I insisted on meeting you while you were in our territory. My grandfather sees you as a role model... someone our younger generation can learn from."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "I¡¯m ttered by his words, though I¡¯m not sure I¡¯ve done anything so grand."


    She paused, then looked toward Cassandra. "Cassandra, return to your room. I will summon you when required."


    Cassandra gave a short nod and exited, closing the door quietly behind her.


    Once alone, Eleanor folded her hands on herp. "Now then... I believe you have something important to discuss with me. Please, go ahead."

 Chapter 107: Business Proposal

    <h4>Chapter 107: Business Proposal</h4>


    Anastasiya was momentarily taken aback by Eleanor¡¯s directness, but she quicklyposed herself and offered a confident smile.


    "Since you asked so straightforwardly, I¡¯ll answer in the same way," she said. "Among my siblings, I¡¯m the odd one. I don¡¯t run any businesses, nor do I manage any corporate affairs. I prefer reading, traveling, and fighting. Business never interested me much."


    Eleanor tilted her head slightly, listening with interest as the vampire woman continued.


    "In Eastern Europe, my family wields considerable influence. Technically, all the vampire ns in the region are vassals of my family. I¡¯ve never used that power for personal gain... but perhaps I should. Afterpleting my education, I inherited a significant amount of wealth from the family estate. It¡¯s just lying dormant in my Grandfather¡¯s treasury. Grandpa is happy to have me by his side, training me inbat. He taught me how to wield the spear... I¡¯m currently at a master level."


    She paused, then added with a hint of sincerity, "I¡¯m sharing this with you so you can understand who I am."


    Eleanor remained quiet, her gaze sharp but non-judgmental. Anastasiya continued, "This time, Grandfather asked me to meet you... to learn the art of business from you. I know you have your own money, and you probably don¡¯t need anyone else¡¯s money. Still, I¡¯m offering to invest mine. You can direct it into any venture you see fit. We can discuss profit-sharing termster. And if you ever want to expand into Eastern Europe, I can actively help open the doors for you."


    Eleanor¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. Instead of answering directly, she asked, "Do you have any personal goals?"


    Anastasiya blinked. "Not really. I¡¯ve thought about investing before, but there are so many options... and so many failures in my n¡¯s history. I¡¯ve always been afraid of squandering what I have."


    Eleanor leaned back slightly in her chair, folding her arms across her chest in contemtion. "I see. Then let me ask you this: how much money are you prepared to invest right now?"


    "More or less ten billion dors," Anastasiya replied without hesitation. "In cash. If you need more, I can ask Grandfather or sell off some of my personal artefacts."


    Eleanor¡¯s brows lifted slightly at the impressive figure, but her voice remained calm. "Alright. That gives me a starting point. But ultimately, ites down to you. You need to think about what you actually want to do. If you don¡¯t have any passion or purpose, I won¡¯t be able to help you build something meaningful."


    Anastasiya looked genuinely puzzled. "But how am I supposed to figure that out?"


    Eleanor had to fight the urge to strangle the beautiful vampire. She took a deep breath and reminded herself to be patient... especially since this girl had just gifted her a rare Moonpetal Flower.


    "Fine," Eleanor said atst. "Here¡¯s what you¡¯ll do. Come to the Kingdom someday. Meet my top employees, my advisors, and a few business partners. Maybe something will inspire you. Sometimes, seeing the operations up close can spark ideas."


    Anastasiya¡¯s face lit up with a dazzling smile. "Grandpa wanted me to befriend Eleanor. What better way than to travel with her?" she thought.


    "Why don¡¯t I just go with you this time?" she asked eagerly. "I don¡¯t have any problem being around werewolves. Unlike some other vampires who are obsessed with their supposed superiority, I can get along with just about anyone."


    Eleanor sighed. "I travel with werewolves because they¡¯re excellent inbat. But my businesses are run by humans. They¡¯re the ones with brains. You¡¯ll need to work closely with them... lots of them."


    "No problem at all!" Anastasiya beamed. "I studied with humans at university. They never even suspected I wasn¡¯t one of them. I can blend in just fine."


    At that point, Dimitry finally spoke up, his voice steady. "I can vouch for Miss Anastasiya. She¡¯s never caused any incidents outside of the n."


    He added silently to himself, "though she¡¯s definitely stirred up plenty of trouble inside the n."


    Eleanor gave a small nod. "Alright. You cane with us."


    Turning to Dimitry, she said, "Knight Petrov, I believe you brought something for me."


    "Yes," he said, pulling an envelope from his inner coat pocket. He handed it over solemnly.


    Eleanor opened the envelope and found a single printed photograph inside¡ªan unfamiliar middle-aged man. She flipped it over. On the back, a simple note was written:


    "Owen Nash, Former MI6 Agent. Last known location: Manchester. Six years ago."


    Her fingers tightened around the photo. "So this is the man who ced the hit on me," she thought. She slipped the picture back into the envelope and said softly, "Thank you, Knight Petrov. This was a great help. My task here is done... I¡¯ll return to the Kingdom tonight."


    She turned to Anastasiya. "Miss Ivanova, you may return to your family for now. Pack your things and we¡¯ll meet again in the Kingdom. Here... take my number."


    Anastasiya shook her head, "There¡¯s no need. I¡¯ming with you now. Anything I need in the future, I¡¯ll buy. I travel light."


    Eleanor blinked. "This..."


    "You agreed earlier," Anastasiya interrupted cheerfully. "No need to go back on your word now. I¡¯m going with you... and that¡¯s final. Sir Petrov, please inform Grandfather of my decision. Also, send a helicopter to take us to the airport. I don¡¯t want to wait in line. Miss Raynor and her team can¡¯t use the VIP passage even with me."


    Dimitry stood, giving a deep nod. "Understood, Miss. I¡¯ll make the arrangements immediately."


    With that, he left the room. Anastasiya visibly rxed on the sofa, shedding her refined posture.


    "Maintaining etiquette is so exhausting," she muttered under her breath, hoping Dimitry hadn¡¯t heard.


    Eleanor gave a rare smile, amused by her guest¡¯s dual personality. She then called Cassandra and arranged for Anastasiya to be moved into the luxe suite next door, which was currently unupied.


    Later, Eleanor checked in on Freya¡¯s school feed and worked through several urgent files on herptop. With Anastasiya joining their group, she decided to have lunch in the hotel¡¯s restaurant. They reserved two tables... one for thedies and another for the boys.


    The meal was lively. Anastasiya, when in a rxed environment, revealed herself to be a cheerful chatterbox. The elegant and reserved image she had earlier was nowhere to be found. She kept the conversation flowing effortlessly, and soon even the usually serious Cassandra found herself giggling.


    The camaraderie between the two women grew fast. They had already spent part of the morning gossiping in Anastasiya¡¯s suite and now behaved like long-lost friends.


    While they were still eating, Anatoly Ignatov, the regional coordinator of the ruling United Russia Party, entered the restaurant for lunch. He casually nced around the room, and his eyesnded on Anastasiya. He paused mid-step, then walked toward their table.


    "Natasha? Is that really you?" he said in surprise. "I thought I was seeing someone who looked like you."


    Anastasiya immediately stood up, slipping back into her refined demeanour. "Uncle Ignatov, it¡¯s lovely to see you again."


    Anatoly smiled warmly. "After your graduation, you never came to visit. Your aunt has been missing you."


    "Sorry, Uncle. I¡¯ve been busy with family matters and postgraduate studies. But I¡¯ll make time soon... I promise."


    At that moment, Eleanor¡¯s instincts screamed. A sudden chill ran down her spine. Every fiber of her being screamed danger.


    "Everyone, down!" she shouted.


    Years of training kicked in. The members of n nc instantly dropped to the floor, heads low.


    Eleanor moved like lightning. She lunged across the table, grabbing both Anastasiya and Anatoly and mming them to the ground just as...


    BOOM!


    The window behind them shattered.

 Chapter 108: Attack at the Hotel

    <h4>Chapter 108: Attack at the Hotel</h4>


    Before Eleanor could bring them downpletely, a bullet whizzed past... just an inch above Anatoly¡¯s head. The sharp crack of impact shattered the momentary calm as ss splintered across the room.


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes darted to the small hole in the window and the mark on the wall. The target was clear. Anatoly Ignatov. If he had remained standing a second longer, his head would have been blown off.


    Without flinching, Eleanor looked straight into his eyes. "You¡¯re the target. Lie down. Don¡¯t move. I¡¯ll handle the rest."


    Her tone left no room for argument.


    She turned toward her guards. "Sebastian, pull down the curtains. We have a sniper. Proceed with extreme caution."


    The shadow team, trained for moments like this, crawled across the floor and reached the windows. One of them yanked the thick curtains closed, casting the restaurant into a dim, tense silence.


    Chaos exploded soon after.


    Most of the guests had frozen for a few seconds, stunned by the sudden violence. But as reality sank in... the shattering ss, the sound of a bullet embedding in the wall... panic took over. Screams pierced the air as people scrambled to escape. Some overturned chairs, others crawled under tables. A few headed for the exit in a mad rush, their shoes slipping on the polished floor.


    Despite the disorder, Eleanor remained calm. She crouched low and surveyed the scene. A few tables away, oil shipping tycoon dimir Egorov and his private security team were lying on the floor. His men, likely ex-military, had reacted swiftly, shielding their boss.


    Sebastian crawled over to Eleanor and whispered, "Ma¡¯am, I suggest we leave immediately. They may send a backup team to cover for the failed hit."


    "Agreed," Eleanor nodded. She turned on her earpiece. "Comms check."


    "Always on," Sebastian replied instantly.


    She nced at Anastasiya, who was still sitting on the floor, visibly shaken. "Miss, is this man important to you?" Eleanor asked, pointing toward Anatoly.


    Anastasiya nodded, her voice quieter than before. "Yes, very."


    It was the first time she had ever been in a situation like this... where her life was genuinely in danger. She had sparred with des and trained inbat, but no one had ever tried to assassinate her. Watching how Eleanor and her team responded... calm, coordinated, lethal... sent a chill down her spine.


    She suddenly understood why Eleanor was so respected... and feared.


    Across from her, Anatoly was also trying toprehend the sudden threat to his life. He watched Eleanor with curiosity and wariness. If Natasha had said he wasn¡¯t important, he suspected the young woman would¡¯ve left him to die without blinking. A bitter smile touched his lips.


    "Is this what it means to operate at the top?" he thought.


    He recalled why he might be targeted and understood. "They finally made their move," he muttered to himself. "But a sniper? I wasn¡¯t prepared for that."


    Raphael appeared beside him and crouched low. "Can you walk?" he asked.


    Anatoly gave a slight nod.


    "Good. Follow us. Head down and stay close."


    The team moved swiftly, making their way to the kitchen at the back of the restaurant. A few kitchen staff were hiding behind shelves and counters.


    "Where¡¯s the service door?" Sebastian asked one of them.


    A trembling man pointed to a bright orange door in the corner. The team moved silently, leading the group through the door and into a staircase. They climbed quickly to the top floor, checking each corridor as they passed.


    Raphael and Elias went ahead, checking the windows for possible threats.


    Once the area was clear, Eleanor gave her next set of orders.


    "Sebastian, secure this entire floor. No onees in without my approval... not even the police. Right now, I don¡¯t trust anyone."


    She turned to Cassandra. "Contact the pilot. We leave as soon as the jet is ready."


    Cassandra nodded and stepped aside to make the call.


    "Raphael, take Mr. Ignatov to your suite. He¡¯ll be safe there. Watch him closely."


    Eleanor turned back to Anatoly. "Do you have any allies inw enforcement who outrank the local officers here?"


    Anatoly blinked, surprised. "Yes. The Moscow City Police Commissioner. He¡¯s a personal friend."


    "Good. Call him. Ask him toe personally. Your life is at stake, and I won¡¯t be protecting you much longer. Also... don¡¯t mention me. I don¡¯t want my name in any report. Not even a whisper. Understood?"


    Anatoly nodded, already reaching for his phone.


    Eleanor led Anastasiya and Cassandra into her suite and closed the door behind them.


    "Miss Ivanova," she said, "call Knight Petrov and exin the situation. The police will arrive soon, and since this is your territory, I won¡¯t intervene. Handle it however you see fit."


    "I will," Anastasiya replied. She sat on the plush sofa, catching her breath.


    Cassandra returned from her call. "Boss, the pilot said we¡¯ll be ready to leave in two hours, max."


    "Good. Tell La to meet us in an hour and a half. She¡¯ll board the helicopter directly from outside. I don¡¯t want her getting involved in this mess."


    Anastasiya looked up. "I just got off the phone with Sir Petrov. He¡¯s already on his way."


    Eleanor let out a sigh of relief and finally sat down. "Then I can rx for a moment."


    Anastasiya slumped into the cushions. "You were so cool. How did you sense that sniper bulleting? You moved like a general... calm,manding,posed."


    Eleanor smiled faintly. "You¡¯ll understand after dodging a few bullets yourself."


    Of course, she didn¡¯t mention that it was her Raynor n bloodline... specifically the Elizabeth line, that gave her heightened danger perception. A secret not for casual conversation.


    "I was really scared," Anastasiya admitted. "This was my first real-life attack. But I¡¯m okay now."


    "If you follow me," Eleanor said seriously, "you¡¯ll experience more. Are you still sure you want toe with me?"


    Anastasiya puffed out her chest like a determined child. "Of course! I¡¯m not a coward."


    Meanwhile, outside the hotel, a convoy of police cars pulled up. Officers quickly cordoned off the area, pushing reporters and curious pedestrians away. Their radios buzzed with updates, but no one was allowed to approach the floor Eleanor now controlled.


    Inside, Eleanor¡¯s senses were spread across the entire floor. Every movement, every breath of those nearby... she was alert to it all.


    A voice came through her earpiece. "Stop there! This is a restricted floor."


    An older man¡¯s voice responded, calm and authoritative. "I am the Moscow City Police Commissioner. Anatoly Ignatov is expecting me."


    Sebastian paused. "Wait there."


    "Raphael, bring Mr. Ignatov to verify his guest."


    "On it."


    A few momentster, the old voice called again, "Anatoly, are you alright?"


    "I¡¯m fine," Anatoly answered. "Thanks to my daughter¡¯s friend and her team. Come in. I¡¯ll exin everything."


    After a few minutes, Sebastian knocked on Eleanor¡¯s door. "Ma¡¯am, the Police Commissioner wants to speak with you."


    Eleanor rose and opened the door. A man in histe fifties stood with calm eyes and a slight frown.


    "Hello, Mr. Commissioner," she greeted politely.


    He nodded. "I¡¯ve heard the full story from Anatoly. He¡¯s a close friend, and I owe you my thanks for saving his life. I¡¯ll honour your request... your name will stay out of every report."


    He hesitated before adding, "But I must ask... how did you sense a sniper attack before the shot was even shattered ss?"


    Eleanor gave him a faint smile, her voice cool andced with steel. "If you had two hundred and thirty billion dors under your name, you¡¯d start sensing a lot of things."

 Chapter 109: Return to the Kingdom

    <h4>Chapter 109: Return to the Kingdom</h4>


    Eleanor normally didn¡¯t unt her wealth. However, revealing her financial power was a tactic Fiona had taught her... a subtle yet effective strategy to suppress the arrogance of high-ranking government officials.


    Humans are a peculiar species. When they discover that someone earns slightly more or wields marginally greater influence than themselves, they often be envious. But when they realize that someone holds unimaginable wealth or power far beyond theirprehension... that envy often transforms into fear and respect.


    This method worked like a charm, particrly when the person on the other end held a position of influence. Instead of viewing you as apetitor, they began to see you as an asset to the country... someone worth protecting and appeasing.


    When Eleanor casually revealed her worth, the Police Commissioner¡¯s mind struggled to process the figure.


    "Sorry... did you just say two hundred and thirty billion US dors?" he asked, blinking as though he had misheard her.


    "Yes," Eleanor replied without blinking. "You heard correctly."


    There was no arrogance in her tone. Just cold, factual delivery.


    "May I know your name, miss?"


    "My name is Eleanor Raynor. If you need confirmation, you can contact your Ministry of Foreign Affairs," she said, her face still devoid of expression.


    Themissioner quickly shook his head, waving his hands slightly. "No, no... that won¡¯t be necessary. I was just curious."


    After a brief pause, he shifted to business. "We¡¯ve decided not to pursue a formalint from Anatoly about the attack. Instead, we will ssify the incident as a terrorist attempt to create chaos. That way, there will be no official prime suspect, and no diplomaticplications. We¡¯ll simply need a statement from you regarding what happened... just a formality."


    At that moment, the elevator door opened, and Dimitry Petrov stepped out. His sharp eyes quickly assessed the scene, and when he saw themissioner speaking to Eleanor, his expression hardened with seriousness.


    Themissioner noticed Dimitry immediately and adjusted his stance, his tone bing even more respectful.


    "Mr. Petrov! It¡¯s good to see you. What brings you here?"


    Dimitry walked closer, nodding politely. "They are my guests. They arrived from abroad, and this unfortunate incident urred. As their host, I felt ashamed. I came to ensure they are unharmed and offer my assistance."


    Though he didn¡¯t gesture toward anyone specifically, his words held enough weight. Themissioner instantly understood the implication and became noticeably more respectful toward Eleanor.


    "I trust you will help me in keeping them out of this incident," Dimitry continued. "My guests came to Russia to explore partnerships with local industries. I hope they see this incident as isted and not representative of our country. It would be a shame if this unfortunate event discouraged them from investing here."


    Hearing that Eleanor was not only extraordinarily wealthy but also considering investing in Russia changed themissioner¡¯s demeanour entirely. His voice softened, bing almost reverent.


    "Of course. We also hope our esteemed guests will consider this an unfortunate ident. We will apprehend the culprit soon. Next time youe to Moscow, please inform me in advance. I will personally arrange proper security for you."


    He hesitated, then added with a slightly nervous smile, "You won¡¯t even need to provide a statement. I¡¯ll handle the matter myself."


    Every nation... regardless of size, ideology, or development... treated wealthy foreign investors like deities. They were seen as direct benefactors to the national economy, and thus often received treatment and privileges far beyond those afforded to ordinary citizens. Russia was no exception.


    Eleanor offered a small nod. "If the inquiry is over, I¡¯d like to rest."


    "Of course, please rest. We¡¯ll take care of everything," themissioner replied swiftly.


    It was then that Anatoly Ignatov, who had been silently observing the exchange, finally spoke up.


    "Miss Raynor, thank you... for saving my life. I may be a minor official, with limited influence, but I will do everything I can to repay this favour. If you ever need anything, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask."


    "There¡¯s no need," Eleanor said softly. "It was the right thing to do. Besides, you were once an acquaintance. I don¡¯t abandon people who matter to me... or to my friends."


    From behind, Anastasiya added, "Uncle, you don¡¯t need to feel indebted. We¡¯re family. But you should be careful going forward. The attack may have failed this time, but your enemies might try again. Stay vignt."


    Anatoly gave a grateful nod. "Thank you, Natasha. I will be more cautious. May I invite you for a meal sometime?"


    Anastasiya nced at her watch. "Uncle, we have a flight in two hours. Next time I visit, I¡¯ll meet Auntie as well."


    "Then please don¡¯t forget," Anatoly said with a warm smile.


    As Eleanor turned to head back into her room, Dimitry stepped forward, cing himself respectfully in her path.


    "Young Miss, don¡¯t worry. I will take care of everything from here."


    "I¡¯ll be leaving in one and a half hours, Knight Petrov. Please make sure the helicopter is ready."


    "It¡¯s already prepared," Dimitry assured her. "Waiting in front of the hotel. You can board anytime. I¡¯ll stay until your departure."


    "Thank you. Anastasiya will be leaving with me... do you have any objections?"


    "No problem. I¡¯ve already informed the lord," he replied.


    "Good. Then I¡¯ll be depending on you," she said, closing the door behind her.


    ***


    Later that afternoon...


    One and a half hourster, Eleanor and her team stepped out of the hotel. They bid farewell to Dimitry, Anatoly, and the policemissioner.


    Anthony, though visibly puzzled by the sudden shift in tone from the authorities, refrained from asking questions. He was sharp enough to understand that not everything required exnation... especially matters that involved power, politics, and private lives.


    La Hasanovi?, who had been quietly staying nearby, joined them and boarded the helicopter without a word. The pilot lifted off, and the helicopter soared toward Sheremetyevo International Airport.


    The helicopternded directly beside Eleanor¡¯s sleek Gulfstream G650. This time, there were no customs procedures or administrative hurdles. Everything had already been cleared. Within minutes, they were airborne... leaving Moscow behind and flying toward the kingdom.


    Once on board, Eleanor retreated into her private cabin. Despite the recent chaos, she had work to finish and documents to review. Her mind was already shifting back to business.


    Meanwhile, Anastasiya sat with Cassandra and La in the lounge area. She seemed more rxed now, chattingfortably with both women. Her curiosity soon got the better of her.


    "So," Anastasiya began, ncing at La, "you had a fight with Raphael at Imperial Haven, and that somehow led to your recruitment? I don¡¯t understand. How does a fight turn into a job offer?"


    Cassandra chuckled. "Trust me, we were surprised too. But that¡¯s how things go with Raphael sometimes. He has... unconventional instincts."


    La gave a small shrug. "I guess he saw something in me. I didn¡¯t understand it either, but I¡¯m notining."


    Anastasiya tilted her head. "Still... recruiting people so casually? Isn¡¯t that risky? How do you ensure quality or loyalty?"


    "That¡¯s where Bosses in," Cassandra said. "She has a way of reading people. If she epted La, then she¡¯s already sure."


    Anastasiya nodded slowly but kept her doubts to herself. It was certainly a different way of doing things than she was used to. But perhaps that was what made Eleanor¡¯s circle so unique.


    Eventually, their conversation shifted again, and Anastasiya started asking Cassandra about life in the kingdom. The political system, the culture, the people. She listened intently, already imagining what it would feel like to step into that world herself... an unfamiliarnd filled with unfamiliar rules, but also, perhaps, new beginnings.

 Chapter 110: Family Trip

    <h4>Chapter 110: Family Trip</h4>


    On the other side, Raphael was finally able to enjoy some alone time with La. It had been a hectic few days, but now that they were back in the kingdom, the pace had slowed just enough for them to rx and connect.


    He spent that time learning about La¡¯s past life... where she grew up, what she liked to do, her favorite food, her hobbies, and even small things like her favorite color and birthday. He asked about her dreams for the future, her goals, and the kind of life she wanted to build. La, in turn, found herself opening up more than she had expected. Something about Raphael felt warm and sincere.


    Although Raphael was a little awkward at times... mostly due to his limited social experience outside the werewolf n. La found his efforts endearing. She already knew he was a good person, someone who meant well even if he didn¡¯t always find the right words.


    What La didn¡¯t know was that Raphael had felt a strong connection to her from the moment they fought back at Imperial Haven. That moment had left an impression on him... so much so that he had immediately rmended her to Eleanor for recruitment. It wasn¡¯t just about her skills; it was something more instinctive.


    But La was human. She had no understanding of werewolf customs, especially not when it came to love. For werewolves, love was sacred... something divine. When a werewolf felt that someone was destined for them, they would move heaven and earth to win their heart. Race didn¡¯t matter. Past didn¡¯t matter. Once the bond was sensed... what werewolves called "a blessing from the Moon Goddess", and there was no turning back.


    If the other person didn¡¯t reciprocate the feelings, some werewolves would choose to stay single for life. Even after their partner¡¯s death, many would remain loyal to that memory, never seekingpanionship again.


    That was why some called this "blessing" a curse.


    While the two of them talked andughed, oblivious to the world, the ne had already crossed the border and reached the kingdom. No one disturbed them. Everyone could see that something was happening between them, and they respected their space.


    Once theynded, Eleanor headed straight to her private vi. The Shadow Team had already moved into one of the neighbouring vis she had recently purchased. Everyone dispersed upon arrival, taking some much-needed time to rest and reset.


    Eleanor tasked Cassandra with escorting Anastasiya and La to another vi nearby, where Teresa and Cassandra were temporarily staying. Anastasiya initially protested, she wanted to stay in a hotel instead... but Eleanor ignored her objections and made the decision for her. It wasn¡¯t a request. It was final.


    Once all responsibilities were sorted, Eleanor returned to her own room. She took a long, hot shower, letting the stress of the past few days melt away. Then she called Ethan to let him know she was back.


    She decided she¡¯d meet Freya the next morning since the little girl¡¯s school was currently on holiday. She hadn¡¯t nned to speak to Freya that night, but fate had other ns.


    While Ethan was on the phone, Freya came into the room and saw her mother on the screen. Her eyes lit up, and she immediately reached for the phone.


    "Mommy, when will youe?" she asked, her voice full of excitement and longing.


    "I just returned," Eleanor said softly. "I¡¯ll have breakfast with you tomorrow."


    "But Mommy, I missed you so much!" Freya said, her voice trembling slightly.


    "I know, baby. I missed you too. But Mommy has some work to finish. Be patient, and we¡¯ll go to the amusement park tomorrow. Just the two of us... and Daddy too."


    "Yay! Amusement park!" Freya cheered. "But Mommy, I want to ride the giant slide this time!"


    "Don¡¯t worry, sweetheart. We¡¯ll ride the slide together," Eleanor promised with a smile.


    Ethan, listening nearby, added, "Do you want to go to the ce we couldn¡¯t ride the slidest time?"


    "Can we?" Freya asked, her eyes wide with hope. "Last time they didn¡¯t let me go."


    "This time they will," Ethan said with a confident smile.


    He had already contacted the owners of y Factore, thergest indoor yground in Manchester. They had agreed to grant VIP ess to their family, including exclusive use of the giant slide.


    He spoke into the phone, "Eleanor, we¡¯ll go to y Factore tomorrow. I¡¯ll take care of everything. Juste to the Raynor estate early in the morning to pick us up."


    "Alright," Eleanor agreed. "I¡¯ll be there."


    The next day, Eleanor woke up early and had breakfast at the Raynor estate. Freya was overjoyed to see her mother after a few days and refused to let go of her hand.


    Together with Ethan, they made their way to y Factore. The staff had been notified and were ready to wee them. The ce was decorated with balloons and filled withughter from other children, but they were guided to a special area prepared just for them.


    All three of them rode the giant slide together. Freya squealed with excitement as she slid down between her parents. Afterwards, she explored the other attractions... trampolines, tunnels, climbing walls and asionally dragged her mother along to y with her.


    For Eleanor, it was a rare moment of peace and joy, away from the chaos of politics, corporations, andbat. She smiled more than she had in weeks.


    The family spent the entire day at the yground. By the time they returned, Freya was exhausted and fell asleep in Eleanor¡¯s arms before they even reached home.


    The next morning, Eleanor dropped Freya off at school. Ethan didn¡¯t join them... starting that day, he began preparing for his uing duel. It would be a public battle to prove his strength to the world, and he was taking it very seriously.


    When Eleanor reached her office, she found Teresa, Maya, and Lily already waiting.


    "Good morning, Boss," they said in unison.


    "Good morning," Eleanor replied. "Teresa, did you arrange La¡¯s identity?"


    "Yes," Teresa replied. "I¡¯ve prepared all the necessary documents to register her as a Finnish citizen. Her facial features are quitemon in Nordic countries, so the process should be smooth. I expect everything to be finalized by the end of the week."


    "Good," Eleanor said. "In the meantime, she¡¯ll stay at the vi. I think she¡¯d be a great fit as the security chief for our Trafford Command Center. But let her go through some training first. She needs to adapt to our work environment before taking on that responsibility."


    "Then perhaps we should bring her in as a security officer under Heimdall first," Teresa suggested. "It¡¯ll give her hands-on experience."


    "Fine. Do as you think is best. Also, send someone from our U.S. team to Russia to finalize the cooperation deal. The initial agreement I signed was just symbolic... we need to secure a real contract."


    "Understood," Teresa said with a nod.


    Eleanor turned to Lily. "What¡¯s the status in Nigeria?"


    "Things are progressing well," Lily replied. "We should be able to start civil works this week. After we included our Nigerian partners in the negotiations, everything began to move more smoothly."


    "Excellent. Maya, the Indian project?"


    "All documents have been signed," Maya said. "The U.S. team will handle the final design and expansion. Once that¡¯s done, we¡¯ll begin investing."


    Eleanor leaned back in her chair and smiled faintly. "Good. Let¡¯s keep things moving."

 Chapter 111: Mom’s Group

    <h4>Chapter 111: Mom¡¯s Group</h4>


    The next morning, Ethan arrived at the Raynor Estate, ready to drop off Freya at school as usual. Eleanor, who was finishing her tea, was surprised to see him.


    "I thought you¡¯d be busy with your training," she said as he entered.


    "I was yesterday. It was an intense, all-day session," Ethan replied, cing his bag down. "But from now on, I can manage my schedule a bit better. I want to make time for Freya."


    Eleanor gave him a small smile. "You don¡¯t need to worry. I can handle school drop-offs."


    "I¡¯m not worried," he said gently. "I just love spending time with our daughter. She¡¯s growing up so fast... I don¡¯t want to miss any of it."


    Just then, Freya came skipping down the stairs, her hand held by her nanny.


    "Daddy!" she shouted with glee and ran into his arms.


    Ethan lifted her into a big hug, his heart overflowing. He had missed too many of her early milestones already, and he knew that time with children was fleeting. Freya wasn¡¯t like most kids. She had inherited the Raynor n¡¯s bloodline and with it, a high learning capacity. Her mental development was well beyond her age. She was already learning coding and could solve logic puzzles that would challenge some adults. Ethan worried that in a few short years, she might not need him at all. That fear made every small moment precious.


    "Let¡¯s get going, princess," he said, strapping her into her seat in the car.


    Eleanor got in beside Freya, and Ethan took the driver¡¯s seat. As the car began moving, Freya started talking excitedly.


    "Daddy, there¡¯s apetition at school next week!" she said, her voice bubbling with excitement.


    "Apetition?" Eleanor asked curiously.


    "Yes! It¡¯s a cookingpetition!" Freya chirped. "Miss Cooper said we need to bring our parents. Each parent will cook something, and the kids will help. It¡¯s a team effort!"


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes widened. "A cookingpetition for school kids? That sounds risky. Fire, knives... what are they thinking?"


    Ethan chuckled. "It¡¯s probably more of a demonstration. They want to teach the children that household work is important and that they should help out at home. Especially in families where the parents handle everything themselves."


    "I suppose that makes sense," Eleanor replied. "Still, it sounds chaotic."


    "I¡¯ll do the cooking," Ethan said firmly. "You already have enough on your te. Besides, I enjoy cooking. I used to cook all the time before, and I can cook a lot of dishes."


    "I can still help with something simple," Eleanor offered.


    He shook his head gently. "No need. You focus on work. I¡¯ll handle this."


    When they arrived at school, Miss Cooper came over with a weing smile. She seemed especially pleased to see Ethan.


    "Mr. Raynor! Good morning. Did Freya informed you about schoolpetition?" she enthusiastically asked.


    "Yes," he replied.


    "Good. Then I will to tell you more about thepetition," she said.


    Ethan nodded and listened attentively as she exined the n. The event was scheduled for the uing holiday. A kitchenwarepany had volunteered to sponsor the setup, bringing portable mini-kitchen stations for each family. Parents just needed to bring their own ingredients.


    A few other parents gathered around to hear more about the event. Miss Cooper smiled warmly.


    "To coordinate everything, I¡¯ll create a WhatsApp group for the ss. It¡¯ll be for moms, mainly, since that¡¯s usually easier for nning these things."


    Though some fathers, like Ethan, were present, the group would be mom-centered for convenience. Everyone seemed to agree without issue.


    Later that morning, Eleanor sat at her desk when her phone buzzed. She had been added to a group called "Moms of ss 1A". Curiously, she opened the app and found a flurry of messages waiting for her.


    "Hi everyone!"


    "This is Ava¡¯s mom, looking forward to the cooking day!"


    "I¡¯m Klein¡¯s mom... can¡¯t wait to meet all of you!"


    Dozens of introductions flooded the chat. Eleanor scrolled through them and realized something surprising... all the mothers knew one another already. They had met during orientation and during the daily school runs. Because Freya started as a transferred mid-term student, she had missed orientation.


    Taking Miss Cooper¡¯s suggestion, Eleanor saved the moms¡¯ numbers using the names of their children for reference.


    She finally typed a message into the chat:


    "Hi everyone, I¡¯m Freya¡¯s mom. Nice to meet you all!"


    Freya was popr among ssmates. And since Ethan usually did the pick-ups and drop-offs, Eleanor had remained a mystery to all.


    The group exploded in response.


    "Oh wow! We were wondering who Freya¡¯s mom was!"


    "Your daughter is so smart and polite!"


    "You¡¯re so lucky... your husband does the school runs!"


    Eleanor blinked at the stream of messages. It was both amusing and slightly overwhelming. Apparently, her absence had be a point of curiosity among the mothers. A few of them admitted they had been envious, seeing Ethan regrly drop Freya off with such care and attention.


    Only Miss Cooper had met Eleanor briefly, but even she admitted they hadn¡¯t talked much.


    Soon, the group shifted focus.


    "We should all have a get together after thepetition."


    "Yes! Let¡¯s n something fun so we can get to know each other."


    "Miss Cooper, could you arrange something like dinner or yground visit sometime after school?"


    Miss Cooper responded positively and suggested a casual get-together a few days after thepetition. Everyone seemed excited at the idea of having a fully booked yground for their children a few hours on a holiday. Miss Cooper will finalize the program as well as the venue. As for the fund, they all agreed to provide whateveres to their part.


    The group started suggesting probable location for the event, but Miss Cooper stopped them and directed them to the iingpetition.


    Just then, Maya stepped into Eleanor¡¯s office, holding a folder in her hands.


    "Boss, we have a situation with our Indianpanies," she said, her expression serious.


    Eleanor quickly minimized the chat window and turned her attention back to work.


    "Go ahead," she said, all business again.

 Chapter 112: The Two Thrones

    <h4>Chapter 112: The Two Thrones</h4>


    Maya stood in front of Eleanor, holding a tablet in her hand, her expression grim.


    "A team from our U.S. division just visited the Indianpanies," she began. "They¡¯ve suggested several improvements to our previous strategies for eachpany, but there¡¯s amon problem we can¡¯t ignore... security and management are severelycking. The employees are so casual that they have no concept ofpany secrecy or confidentiality. We need to deploy our own security personnel immediately."


    She paused, then looked up at Eleanor with concern in her eyes. "Also, we need to assess which of their employees we can retain long-term. Everyone must sign confidentiality agreements, and we¡¯ll need to train them on how to meet the standards of ourpany."


    Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. "It¡¯s okay. I¡¯ve been nning to visit India for some time now. Looks like I¡¯ll have to go sooner than expected. I¡¯ll personally oversee the security situation there."


    She turned to herputer and quickly tapped a message to Lily.


    "As for the training programs," she added aloud, "ask Lily to send a team from our administrative and legal departments. Exin the situation to her thoroughly... she¡¯ll know what to do."


    She looked at Maya again. "Send Teresa in on your way out."


    Maya nodded and left the room. A momentter, Teresa entered.


    "Boss, you called for me?"


    "Yes. I¡¯m nning an urgent trip to India," Eleanor replied. "Check my schedule and clear any conflicts so I can arrange an appointment as soon as possible."


    "There¡¯s nothing critical in your schedule for the next few days. Everything¡¯s flexible," Teresa said. "Who should I call for the appointment?"


    "Not you. I need to make this call personally."


    Eleanor picked up her phone and dialed Fiona. The call was answered almost instantly.


    "Grandma, I need to schedule a meeting with the matriarch of Harivamsa n," she said briskly.


    "I¡¯ll send you the number of the n Head¡¯s secretary," Fiona replied without hesitation. "He should be able to handle the appointment."


    "And if there¡¯s any trouble, just let me know. I¡¯ll speak directly to the n Head."


    "Thanks, Grandma."


    Momentster, Eleanor received the contact information and ced the call.


    "Hello, I¡¯m Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor of the Raynor n," she said when the line connected. "I¡¯d like to request an appointment with Reverend Sarika Somavati Harivansha. Please convey the message to her."


    "Ah! It¡¯s an honor to hear from you, Young Miss Raynor," came the polite voice on the other end. "The Reverend One is currently in a meeting with His Highness, the Heir Apparent. I was instructed not to disturb her unless it¡¯s a matter of life or death."


    "This isn¡¯t urgent. Just let her know I need an appointment at her earliest convenience."


    "Understood. I¡¯ll inform her after the meeting."


    "Thank you," Eleanor said, ending the call.


    She turned back to Teresa. "Maya needs support at the Indianpanies. Talk to her and make arrangements. I want the Indian branches to begin production as soon as possible. Also, send someone from our legal team to draft new employment contracts and confidentiality agreements. You already know how to shape apany to match our standards."


    "Understood. I¡¯ll get on it right away," Teresa responded, and left the office.


    Eleanor then opened her phone and checked the WhatsApp group created for Freya¡¯s school moms. There were over a hundred new messages. She skimmed through them and realized the group still hadn¡¯t finalized a venue for their outing.


    After deciding to follow up on the group chatter, she opened the live feed from Freya¡¯s school, watching her daughter y ssmates and solving puzzles. The sight brought a rare smile to her face.


    She then began clearing the piled up works. After finishing her paperwork, she closed herptop and left her office... it was time to pick up Freya from school.


    As she exited the elevator, Ethan¡¯s car was already waiting for her.


    "You¡¯re early," she said as she entered his car.


    "I like to be early when it¡¯s about Freya," Ethan replied with a small smile.


    They drove off to the school in silence, thefort of routine enveloping them.


    ***


    In the heart of an obsidian citadel, beneath a vaulted ceiling etched with constetions drawn from ancient werewolf bloodlines, sprawled the throne room of House Lychos... the ruling n of the werewolves. Vast and echoing, the hall seemed to breathe with silence older than any living soul within its walls. The hush was broken only by the asional gust of wind curling through towering arched windows of crystal ss.


    Each pane shimmered faintly, catching shes of distant lightning from thunderclouds gathering over the high peaks of snowing mountain. It was as though nature itself hade to bear witness, baring its teeth in allegiance to the absent King.


    At the far end of the hall, upon a dais carved from midnight-ck stoneced with golden veins, stood two thrones.... symbols of legacy and power.


    The first, at the center, loomed with somber authority. It was hewn from ck marble veined with fossilized amber, like lightning captured in stone. Its high back towered like jagged mountains, and above it hung a banner stitched in gold: wolves mid-howl beneath a crescent moon. This was the throne of Damon Brontes Lychos, the King of Werewolves. It stood vacant now... silent, formidable, and cold... its emptiness a thunderp of absence.


    To its right, smaller yet no less noble, stood the throne of the High Apparent. Crafted from white iron and polished oak, it was etched with runes of inheritance and storm. Upon it sat Erevan Brontes Lychos, the crown prince. Draped in a golden-edged cloak that spilled like moonlight down the steps, Erevan sat upright, a sculpture of poise and power. A lightning-shaped tattoo beneath his eye flickered with subtle energy, the dormant strength of his lineage stirring in his veins.


    He did not fidget or lean. His posture was that of someone carrying the weight of an entire race upon his back... silent butmanding, still but alert.


    nking the twin thrones in crescent formations were ten high-backed chairs, carved with the crests of the Great Houses. Today, they were empty, their absence a testament to theck of formal council. This was not a day for politics or ceremony. This was a day of omens.


    Beside the throne of the High Apparent sat the only upied chair... one reserved for the High Priest of the werewolves.


    Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Revered One of the Werewolf Council, sat cloaked in twilight-hued silks. Runes iid with gemstones glimmered faintly upon her sleeves. Her long braid of silver hair reached the floor, and from her neck hung the Crescent Fang... an ancient relic said to have been carved from the tooth of the first werewolf of her bloodline.


    Her eyes were half-closed, yet all-seeing. She watched Erevan not as a subject to a ruler, but as a seer to a storm not yet broken. The scent of Incense and old parchment lingered in the air. The air itself seemed charged, as though the very stones waited to listen, to bear witness to whatever decree or destiny would next thunder through these hallowed halls.

 Chapter 113: The Priest of Werewolves

    <h4>Chapter 113: The Priest of Werewolves</h4>


    On the second throne, Erevan Brontes Lychos sat in utter silence. His green eyes stared ahead at the massive doors of the throne room, yet anyone observant enough could tell he wasn¡¯t truly looking at anything. His gaze was hollow, vacant... as if his soul were drifting through a void. It wasn¡¯t the stare of a prince overseeing a kingdom, but of a man who had suddenly lost his purpose.


    His mind churned with grief and uncertainty. Just hours ago, in the hallowed ancestral hall of House Lychos, the life crystal of his father had shattered.


    It had not cracked. It had not dimmed even. It had broken into glimmering fragments... a silent scream of death, unmistakable and irreversible. And what that meant was clear. Damon Brontes Lychos, the King of the Werewolves, had died in the other world.


    The only ones who knew of this were the butler of the Lychos n, an elderly servant who had found the shattered crystal, and Erevan himself. Upon receiving the news, Erevan had decisively acted to suppress the information. Panic and chaos had no ce in his reign.


    He had immediately summoned the one person he trusted beyond doubt... Sarika Somavati Harivamsa.


    Sarika was no ordinary counselor. She was the Priest of the Werewolves and the spiritual guide of the Werewolf Council. Revered across the ns, Sarika had once served beside Erevan¡¯s father, offering wisdom that had influenced royal decisions for decades. Her words in the council carried the weight of prophecy and experience, though she rarely invoked her seer¡¯s gift anymore.


    In her youth, she had once tried to reshape fate by revealing fragments of the future... and the consequences had been catastrophic. A minor intervention had led to a domino effect, ending in a catastrophe she could never forget. Since then, Sarika had sworn not to meddle directly in fate¡¯s flow. She had chosen instead to advise... to illuminate the path, but never to push anyone down it.


    Yet to Erevan, she was not just a priest or advisor. She was thepass to his storm-lost vessel.


    After sharing the devastating news with her, he had waited in silence for guidance, for something... anything... to decide his future.


    Thirty years ago, Erevan had been in the other world, training and forging strength away from court life, when a simr event nearly destroyed his world.


    His father, while on an interworld visit through the sacred teleportation gate of Yggdrasil, had disappeared. The gate, ancient and powerful as it was, asionally misaligned during transit... a rare phenomenon caused by cosmic turbulence. Such incidents were extremely umon, less than one in a thousand... but when they urred, the consequences were fatal. Damon Brontes Lychos might be materialized deep within a hostile tribe¡¯s territory, and contact had been lost ever since.


    Back then, the council had called Erevan back urgently to stabilize the court. But the life crystal had remained intact, which meant his father was alive. Erevan had ruled as the acting head of the kingdom ever since, always hoping, always believing that his father would one day return to reim the throne. And he would be a free bird again.


    But that hope was gone now. Itpletely shattered like the crystal.


    He felt like a boat adrift in a stormy ocean... directionless, overwhelmed, and on the verge of capsizing.


    As he sat wrapped in his turbulent thoughts, his eyes asionally flicked to the priest seated beside him. Her eyes were closed, her face still as stone. She was in her seer¡¯s trance... scanning through the threads of fate, no doubt. The hall was quiet but heavy, like the breath held by destiny itself.


    Finally, Sarika¡¯s eyes fluttered open. The silver shimmer in her irises dimmed as she returned to the present.


    "You seem to have lost your purpose," she said softly, her voice echoing in the vast chamber. "But as the Crowned Prince of the Werewolves, this day was inevitable. The moment your father¡¯s heart stopped, your future began. Now, you must walk forward. You must carry our people with you."


    Erevan¡¯s expression twisted with aplex pain. "What you say is true," he murmured. "But I wasn¡¯t prepared to face this moment... not so soon. My father ascended to the throne when he was three hundred years old. My grandfather stepped down willingly to continue his journey in the other world, pursuing further strength and longevity. That was a joyous transition. But this..." He paused. "This is different."


    He inhaled deeply, voice lowering. "Now I must face my mother, who has just lost her beloved. I must lead an empire where many of my subjects are centuries older and wiser than I. And worst of all, I am unfinished... I had so many things I wished to resolve before taking the throne."


    He nced at Sarika, pain written openly on his face. "I haven¡¯t even found my wife. I nned to search for her myself once my father returned. How can I lead as a king when my own heart remains so iplete?"


    Sarika¡¯s expression remained calm, but her voice grew firmer. "Your Highness, you must not linger in the past. It is a ce for memories, not decisions. Your people already see you as their king. For thirty years, you¡¯ve ruled with strength and stability. You are no substitute... you are the anchor they trust. The council stands with you. You need only discover the vision that will define your reign."


    Erevan looked away. "What vision could I possibly have?" he asked bitterly. "I have no wife, no heirs. No legacy to pass on. I would be the first king in werewolf history to sit on the throne without a family. Wouldn¡¯t it be better to summon my uncle from the other world? He has children. He could carry the legacy forward more easily than I."


    Sarika sighed, a long, steady breath. "Your Highness, your obsession with what is missing blinds you to what already exists. The people do not love you because of the blood you may pass on... they love you for the strength you¡¯ve already given them. You must now choose to lead not as a man hoping for return, but as a king building the future."


    She paused, her gaze bing distant for a moment before she continued, "We live in the future. The present is continuously bing the past... etched into history with every breath we take. It may serve as a tform for our current standing, but we certainly do not live there. The one who does not have a clear vision for the future is not truly alive... merely passing time like countless specks of dust adrift in the universe."


    Her eyes locked onto Erevan¡¯s. "I know I shouldn¡¯t tell you this, but I¡¯ve seen glimpses of you in this castle, surrounded by descendants. Smiling. Fulfilled. Crowned not just in title, but in legacy. I believe the future you desire is already aligned. You simply need to step forward. Proceed with the coronation."


    Erevan blinked, the weight in his chest lifting slightly. "Is what you say... true?" he asked, almost like a child seekingfort in a storm.


    Sarika¡¯s lips curled into a rare, gentle smile. "I would never lie to you, Your Highness. That was the vow I took when I became the Priest of the Werewolves."


    Erevan looked at her slowly, his back straightening, a new fire lighting in his eyes.


    "Then tell me," he said, voice calm but resolute. "What must we do now?"

 Chapter 114: A Seer’s Fear

    <h4>Chapter 114: A Seer¡¯s Fear</h4>


    After a brief pause, Sarika said solemnly, "Before we announce anything to the world, we should first convene a council meeting and decide collectively. This is a matter of great importance. I believe the council has the right to hear it before anyone else. We can make a public deration after the meeting concludes."


    Erevan nodded. "I agree with you. Then I shall call an emergency council meeting for tomorrow at 12 GMT."


    Sarika gave a small approving smile. "That would be best for everyone. No matter where they are, all members should be able to attend by that time."


    Without hesitation, Erevan picked up his phone and dialed his secretary. "Call an emergency council meeting tomorrow at 12 GMT. It¡¯s mandatory... everyone must be present," he said firmly, then ended the call.


    After setting down the phone, he looked at the priest, who was sitting calmly, her face serene, unaffected by the storm brewing around them. A sigh escaped his lips as he regarded her peaceful demeanor.


    "How can you be so carefree all the time?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and admiration.


    Sarika¡¯s gaze remained steady. "It¡¯s a matter of choice, Your Highness. What has already happened is out of our hands. What will happen is inevitable. The only thing we can control is how we face it. Fate is a cruel and indifferent force. No matter how much we try, we cannot escape it. And believe me, I¡¯ve tried."


    She looked into the distance, her expression shadowed by old pain. After a short pause, she continued, her voice soft and reflective. "Many years ago, I had a vision of my son being buried alive under andslide in the other world, during a battle with an earth elemental. Desperate to save him, I forbade him from going to the other world."


    Her eyes dimmed with sorrow. "Then, one day, I fell ill and needed a rare herb to concoct a healing pill. My son volunteered to travel to the Himyas to find it, apanied by several of our nsmen. They never returned. An earthquake struck the region and caused a massivendslide. All of them perished."


    A tear rolled down her cheek. "In my vision, only my son had died. But by trying to prevent his fate, I inadvertently caused the deaths of several others. I altered the oue... but at what cost?"


    She let the silence stretch for a moment, her voice barely above a whisper now. "You are the first person I¡¯ve ever told about that tragedy. You lost your father in an event you couldn¡¯t control. But I lost my son because I tried to fight fate. In my vision, he was buried, not confirmed dead. He might¡¯ve survived, which I don¡¯t know. Imagine that burden, Your Highness."


    The room fell into a heavy silence. Both of them stared at the throne room doors, lost in thoughts of their past mistakes and their uncertain futures.


    After what felt like an eternity, Sarika spoke again. "Your Highness, we must prepare before the council meeting. ording to our traditions, if a reigning king dies while still on the throne, the werewolf ns enter a mourning period of one year. Only after that can the coronation of the new king be held."


    She turned her eyes toward him. "Since we won¡¯t be making the news public until tomorrow¡¯s meeting, I suggest we ce our forces on standby. We must be ready. Otherwise, a power vacuum could lead to chaos during this transitional period."


    Sarika hesitated, then continued more seriously, "Your Highness, I suggest you unofficially assume the role of king during tomorrow¡¯s meeting. You have already been fulfilling royal duties for the past thirty years, in everything but title. It won¡¯t feel different to us, but it will show strength and stability to outsiders... especially those who might try to exploit the situation. Then, after the official mourning period, we will hold your coronation."


    Erevan raised an eyebrow. "And how do we do that without a coronation ceremony?"


    "It¡¯s quite simple," Sarika replied. "One of the council members needs to formally propose you as king, and the rest must unanimously support the motion. Unlike other council matters, this one requires all ten members to agree. But from what I know, all of them respect and support you. It should go smoothly."


    Erevan stood slowly from the throne, his expression thoughtful. "Then I¡¯ll follow your suggestion."


    He turned to Sarika. "I need some rest. Thank you for your time and your counsel."


    Sarika stood as well, cing a hand over her chest and bowing respectfully. "It is always my honor to serve you, Your Highness."


    After Erevan left the throne room, Sarika also stepped outside. Her secretary had been waiting patiently in the corridor.


    Seeing her, he approached with a slight bow. "Reverend, the young miss of the Raynor n called earlier. She requested a meeting with you."


    Sarika tilted her head, surprised. "Did she mention the reason?"


    "No," the secretary replied. "She simply said she needed to speak with you and that she got my number from her n head."


    Sarika thought for a moment, then nodded. "We¡¯ll be in Greece for two more days before returning to India. Arrange a meeting and ask her to visit my temple. Among all the next n heads, she¡¯s the only one who hasn¡¯t paid tribute to our ancestors."


    "As you wish, Reverend," he said. "Shall we return to your vi now?"


    "Yes, let¡¯s go," Sarika replied.


    The secretary walked down the steps and signaled the driver. The car pulled up promptly. Sarika followed, both of them entering the vehicle, which drove off through the quiet streets.


    ***


    Meanwhile, Eleanor brought Freya to visit Isabe at Hope Specialized Hospital. As they walked down the corridor, they ran into Edward Miller, who had just finished visiting his granddaughter, Anabel Miller.


    "Good evening, Miss Raynor," he greeted warmly. "It¡¯s a pleasure to see you here."


    Eleanor returned the smile. "Good evening. I came to visit Aunt Be. By the way, thank you for your support to her. She¡¯s recovering quickly, and the care she¡¯s receiving has been wonderful."


    Edward waved off thepliment. "Don¡¯t mention it. I owe you more than you realize. You gave my granddaughter a second chance. I¡¯ll never forget that. If there¡¯s ever anything you need, just say the word."


    He then noticed the little girl beside Eleanor. "And who is this?"


    "She¡¯s my daughter," Eleanor replied, beaming with pride. "Freya, say hello to Grandpa Miller."


    Freya looked up at the kindly man with wide eyes and a shy smile. "Hello, Grandpa Miller," she said, her voice light and cheerful.


    Edward chuckled warmly, his heart melting at the girl¡¯s innocence. "Well, hello to you too, youngdy. You¡¯ve got your mother¡¯s eyes."

 Chapter 115: Inside the Pocket Dimension

    <h4>Chapter 115: Inside the Pocket Dimension</h4>


    Freya instantly liked the old man. Edward Miller had unknowingly earned a ce in her good graces with a simplepliment... telling her she looked like her mother. Freya adored Eleanor. She admired everything about her, from her warm smile to her bravery. To Freya, her mother wasn¡¯t just a parent... she was a superhero. Beingpared to her in any way instantly won her over.


    Seeing the little girl¡¯s bright smile, Edward¡¯s affection for her deepened. There was something pure and radiant about her that reminded him of a gentler time.


    "Youngdy," Edward said with a kindly tone, "may I invite you to meet my granddaughter sometime?"


    Eleanor quickly stepped in before Freya could answer. "I didn¡¯t know your granddaughter was here, Mr. Miller. Unfortunately, we have some important matters to take care of today. But we¡¯ll definitely visit her next time."


    At that moment, the elevator dinged, arriving at their floor. Eleanor and Freya smiled and bid Edward farewell before stepping inside. As the elevator doors closed, Edward stood in the hallway for a moment, watching them leave with a fond smile. Then, with a shake of his head, he turned and headed upstairs to his office. He, too, had work to finish.


    ***


    In the pocket dimension of the Raynor n, a ce suspended beyond time and space, Ethan was immersed in rigorous training under the watchful eyes of Elder Bedivere Raynor.


    Sweat trickled down his temples, soaking his cor. His breaths came in short, sharp bursts. Each movement, each swing of his sword, was precise yet strained. But he didn¡¯t stop. Not even for a second.


    The uing duel was more than a challenge. It was an opportunity... a moment to prove himself to the world, to the n, and perhaps, most importantly, to her.


    Since Eleanor¡¯s bloodline awakening, she had be something extraordinary, transcending the limits towards impossible. She had soared ahead of him in strength and status. Though he never said it aloud, a part of Ethan felt he had to catch up.... not just as her pursuer, but as a man who once saw himself as her protector. That role had somewhat shifted after her awakening.


    Now, he wanted to prove that he was worthy to stand beside her.


    And so he trained harder, faster, pushing his limits. He had already decided that after the duel, he would seek permission to enter the other world. There, he believed, he could find the power he needed to evolve.


    While Ethan continued sparring, Fiona stepped into the pocket dimension. Without dy, she headed toward her mother¡¯s residence. As she entered the elegant garden courtyard where Oswyn Elizabeth Raynor meditating, her mother looked up, surprised by her arrival.


    "Fiona? What brings you here at this hour?" Oswyn asked, setting aside a book she had been reading.


    Fiona took a deep breath, her expression serious. "Mother, something urgent hase up. I came to seek your counsel."


    Oswyn straightened her posture immediately, sensing the gravity in her daughter¡¯s voice. "What happened?"


    "The Heir Apparent has called an emergency council meeting," Fiona said. "It¡¯s scheduled for 12 GMT tomorrow. All council members are expected to attend in person."


    Oswyn¡¯s brow furrowed slightly. "That¡¯s unusual. Did he mention the reason?"


    Fiona shook her head. "No. But I dug around for information. Everything seems... calm. Too calm for such a sudden meeting. The only oddity is that the priest was already at Brontes Ind before the summons went out. And then, I heard something else... the entire Lychos n has been called back to their ind. Their security has intensified. It¡¯s almost as if they¡¯re expecting an attack."


    She paused, her voice lower now. "But there¡¯s no sign of global tension. Nothing has happened to justify that level of caution."


    Oswyn¡¯s gaze grew sharper. "Then the only logical exnation is internal. Something¡¯s changed within the Royal Family."


    Fiona nodded. "That¡¯s my conclusion too. But the Royal Pce has shown no visible signs of unrest. It¡¯s confusing."


    Oswyn exhaled slowly. "His Highness Erevan has ruled over the werewolves for nearly thirty years. No one has dared to challenge his position in all this time. But if he¡¯s calling an emergency meeting, there¡¯s only one possibility."


    She looked her daughter in the eye. "The King of Werewolves has finally perished."


    Fiona¡¯s eyes widened. "The king is... dead? I can¡¯t believe it."


    Oswyn scoffed. "It was bound to happen sooner orter. He was lost in teleportation three decades ago. What amazes me is how he survived for so long afterward. That old bastard was tougher than granite. But if Erevan is summoning the council and the priest is present, then it¡¯s clear... he intends to be crowned. And rightly so."


    She folded her arms. "Without a king, there is no heir apparent. Erevan will need to be formally dered king so that his authority is undisputed during the mourning period."


    Fiona¡¯s voice trembled slightly. "Then... what should we do?"


    Oswyn smirked. "We do what the smart do... we follow the flow. First, throw some money to arrange global prayer ceremonies during the next full moon. Make it grand. Show respect. Let the people mourn."


    She leaned forward slightly. "If that damned priest supports Erevan, then you must be the first to stand behind her proposal. However... if she remains silent, so should you. In times like this, the priest¡¯s stance will dictate the room. Do not misstep."


    Fiona bowed her head. "I understand. I¡¯ll do exactly as you say."


    "Good," Oswyn said with a rare smile. "One more thing... I was going to tell youter, but since you¡¯re here, you should know. I¡¯ve reached the peak of my current power. The time hase for me to attempt a breakthrough."


    Fiona stiffened. "You¡¯re leaving?"


    "In about a month," Oswyn replied. "I¡¯m preparing to enter the other world. That¡¯s the only ce left for me to grow stronger. Besides, we were among the ones who vowed to conquer that world for Earth¡¯s future. I must uphold that promise."


    Fiona¡¯s voice grew soft. "But what about me? What am I supposed to do once you¡¯re gone?"


    Oswyn¡¯s expression softened. "You¡¯ll do what you¡¯ve always done... lead with your head held high. We cannot live forever, but we can leave behind a legacy. And remember, power is only one part of strength. The other is will."


    Fiona took a steadying breath. "I¡¯ll return after the council meeting. We¡¯ll talk more then."


    She gave her mother a respectful nod, then walked out of the pocket dimension.


    Back in the real world, Fiona boarded her helicopter and flew directly to the Manchester airport. Her private jet was already waiting on the runway. Without wasting a moment, she boarded the ne.


    After three and a half hours of flight, the jetnded smoothly at Santorini International Airport. As she stepped out, a sleek ck helicopter stood ready on the tarmac. The pilot opened the door, and Fiona climbed aboard.


    Within moments, the rotor des began to spin, and the helicopter rose into the air and flew towards Brontes Ind.

 Chapter 116: The Brontes Island

    <h4>Chapter 116: The Brontes Ind</h4>


    The Brontes Ind... home of the Lychos n, rulers of the werewolves, and seat of kings and queens... was where the King¡¯s Castle stood tall and proud, and the royal court of the werewolves was held.


    In ancient times, when werewolves were scattered across the world in different packs and constant pack wars gued them, Alexander Brontes Lychos, the first king of the modern werewolf society, began his conquest. He united all werewolves under one banner and formed the Great Council,prising the ten most powerful ns, each with a distinct role in society. After countless years of suffering and war, the werewolves finally found unity and peace under his rule.


    After that final war, the werewolves began to live as a civilized society under strict yet weed rules. But Alexander¡¯s efforts didn¡¯t end there. He reached out to other supernatural beings and co-founded the Supernatural Council with none other than the Vampire King, d Drac Tepes.


    Their efforts were acknowledged by the World Tree, Yggdrasil and the dragons. As a gesture of appreciation, several pocket dimensions were granted to them... safe havens where supernatural beings could live without disturbing humanity. The supernaturalmunity was then tasked with guiding human civilization toward a sustainable future. Though noble in intention, this task proved difficult. Humans, with their self-destructive tendencies, were never easy to guide.


    The Brontes Ind Itself became the primary base of the Lychos n. Yggdrasil gifted a pocket dimension to the werewolf king and erected a barrier of natural phenomena around it... primarily violent thunderstorms, to keep outsiders away. The ind became a sanctuary, and its significance grew over time. Those in the Lychos n who awakened the ancestral power of lightning were granted the middle name "Brontes," and the ind was named in their honor.


    Before the magnificent castle was erected, the ind was mostly barren... only the towering Thunder Mountain and sparse vegetation filled thendscape. Legend says the first ancestor of the Lychos n received his power from Thunder Mountain itself. At its heart is a fossilized thunder stone, a relic that enhances the power of the Brontes bloodline.


    Living on the ind is not for the faint of heart. Continuous thunderstorms rage above Thunder Mountain, creating a tingling sensation in the air that unsettles most visitors. But for members of the Brontes n, it is simply part of daily life.


    Storms surround the ind, making entry nearly impossible for outsiders. Though it doesn¡¯t appear on any human maps, some ships have asionally wandered too close. They are always forced to retreat after encountering the fierce storm front.


    The only way to reach Brontes Ind safely is by using special thunder-resistant ships crafted by the Lychos n or through air travel in their custom helicopters. These helicopters are piloted by n members who know the location instinctively, guided through the thick clouds without needing coordinates.


    Visitors and guests must coordinate with the Lychos n in advance. The n then dispatches a helicopter to pick them up from the nearest airport.


    When the ind became the king¡¯s domain, the Lychos n constructed a magnificent ck castle worthy of its royal stature. Surrounding it, they built homes and halls. Each of the ten Great Council ns was granted a plot ofnd to construct a temporary residence.


    All ten ns of the council have built vis on their ownnds, which they use when visiting Brontes Ind or when attending the king¡¯s court. Although the castle has a separate guest area reserved for them, the heads of therger ns often prefer to stay within their own domains.


    The Raynor n purchased some of the surroundingnd from the Lychos n to expand their vi grounds. Now, their estate includes a spacious vi, servant quarters, arge pond, several gardens, and a farnd where crops unique to Brontes Ind are cultivated. From the beginning, Raynor n Heads have preferred to spend their vacations here in peace, which is why these arrangements were made. However, Fiona enjoys traveling the world, so she visits the vi only when necessary.


    Other ns could also purchasend, but all ownership remained subject to Lychos n authority. The ind, for all intents and purposes, functions as an independent country governed by the King¡¯s n.


    Thergestnd parcel outside the royal holdings is controlled by the Warlord n, responsible for the military might of the werewolves. They were granted a connected smaller ind, considered a part of Brontes Ind, often referred to as "the cantonment."


    The Lychos nmands its own military, formed of its members and loyal vassal ns. These vassals, originally from different parts of Greece, were the first to join Alexander¡¯s cause. They were relocated to the ind from the start and now make up its foundational poption.


    Many smaller ns also send their youth to serve in the military for fixed terms. This service offers tax exemptions and represents one of the only ways these ns can earn honor and ess to greater opportunities... like ascendance to the Other World.


    Though there have been no wars among supernatural beings for decades... and participation in human conflicts has ceased since the founding of the Supernatural Council... the military remains a vital deterrent. It also ys another, less discussed role: exceptional soldiers are selected for advanced development and potential entry into the Other World, where they train to fight for Earth¡¯s future.


    Larger ns with direct quotas to the Other World do not rely on military paths. But for smaller ns, this remains their only path to ascension.


    As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Fiona¡¯s helicopter approached Brontes Ind. From above, the first thing she saw was the awe-inspiring sight of Thunder Mountain. Bolts of lightning licked the sky, their thunderous roar echoing across thend.


    Descending further, the natural beauty of the ind came into view. Aleppo and Cbrian pines, olive and cypress trees, tamarisk, and carob trees spread across thendscape, forming a sea of lush greenery. The juxtaposition between the violent mountain peaks and the tranquil flora gave the ind an ethereal beauty. It was as if a poet had poured two contrasting emotions into a Pulitzer-winning verse.


    The pilot broke her reverie, "We arending in ten. Brace for impact. Ten... nine..."

 Chapter 117: The Council Members-1

    <h4>Chapter 117: The Council Members-1</h4>


    When Fiona stepped out of her car in front of the King¡¯s Castle, she wore an elegant business suit. Her royal navy coat, perfectly tailored, was trimmed with silver thread that shimmered when she moved. Beneath it, her style was effortless: high cors, fitted gloves, and jewelry inherited from her ancestors. A single pearl at her throat. A si ring bearing the Raynor crest. Nothing loud. Everything intentional.


    Fiona Elizabeth Raynor, the Ambassador of the Werewolves, head of the Raynor n, managed diplomacy with humans, other supernatural beings, and foreign werewolf territories.


    Her hair was pinned with precision, not a strand out of ce, though the glint in her steel-blue eyes suggested she¡¯d been through storms few could survive. She did not smile often, but when she did, it cut sharper than any fang. She wasn¡¯t beautiful in a fragile way... she was the kind of beautiful that made kings hesitate and assassins think twice.


    Fiona climbed the steps and found two other council members already waiting.


    One was Sten Ragnar Fenroth, the Warlord of the werewolves and leader of the Fenroth n. As Supreme Military Commander of the werewolf forces, he was responsible for war, defense, and strategic mobilization.


    Sten looked like he had been carved from ice and iron. Broad-shouldered and towering, he carried a warrior¡¯s frame forged by generations of survival and battle. His hair, the color of storm clouds... pale ash threaded with silver... fell in loose waves to his shoulders. He usually tied it back before enteringbat. A short, rough beard shadowed his jaw, which he thought of as a symbol of his strength.


    His cier-blue eyes were cold and sharp, piercing through lies and diplomatic pretenses. They held the stillness of winter hunts and the promise of violence just beneath the surface. People said he could look at a man and imagine a thousand ways to end him.


    A wolf pelt was draped across his back... not ornamental, but worn and battle-scarred, a trophy from an ascended beast he had in singlehandedly in his youth. His leathers were reinforced with dark steel at the shoulders and forearms, shaped not for ceremony but for war. Etched runes marked his bracers and cor, symbols of his lineage.


    Beside him stood Yara Arara Neblina, the Watcher of the werewolves and head of the Amazons. She handled intelligence, surveince, and rogue tracking.


    Yara could move through shadows like a whisper from the forest itself. Her n¡¯s power was not rooted in illusions or cloaking magic but rather in extreme short-range speed that let them vanish between blinks. She was tall and lithe, carrying the grace of a jaguar stalking through dense undergrowth.


    Her skin bore the warm, earthy bronze of the Amazon sun, toughened by years in the wild. Her eyes, sharp and deep amber, glinted like molten gold in the fading light. Nothing escaped them.


    Long, dark hair flowed in thick waves down her back, braided with feathers and beads... symbols of her heritage and vignce. Her features were strong yet elegant, with high cheekbones and a firm jawline that spoke of resilience and an unyielding will.


    She wore supple leather dyed in greens and browns, blending seamlessly with the jungle. There was a wildness to her, a connection to the ancient forest she called home, but beneath thaty a razor-sharp mind and a soul fiercely devoted to her duties. To see her was to know that nothing escaped her watchful gaze.


    Just as Fiona was about to greet them, a voice came from behind. "Am I toote today?"


    Fiona turned to see Dalisay stepping out of her car. She smiled. "No. In fact, you might be early. How have you been?"


    Dalisay returned the smile with charm. "Very good. I¡¯ve advanced a small realm in ascendance in the meantime."


    Fiona raised a curious brow. Of course she had. Now, she stood on the same level as Fiona despite being younger.


    "Congrattions. Now we can have a proper sparring session sometime," Fiona said warmly.


    Dalisay Mayari Cordillera, the Matron of the werewolves and head of the Cordillera n from the Philippines, oversaw bloodlines, mating, marriage, and family lineage within the council.


    To the unknowing eye, Dalisay appeared almost too still for a creature of moon and blood. Yet there was undeniable power in her presence... one that silenced conversations and straightened postures. She wore woven robes dyed in deep indigo and forest earth, stamped with sigils passed down for generations. A cloak stitched from ancestral threads whispered in the breeze like the voices of her foremothers.


    Her silver-streaked ck hair was wrapped into a long braid coiled with talismans of bone and moonstone, each marking a birth, a union, or a vow within her n. Her obsidian eyes held the weight of every lineage she had ever blessed. On her forehead shimmered a crescent-shaped tattoo, said to have appeared the night she was chosen by the spirits of Echo Vale.


    She stepped up the stairs with quiet authority... neither demanding attention nor needing it. The air around her pulsed with something sacred. To the werewolves, she was the Matron. To her people, she was the keeper of names, the watcher of wombs and bonds, the living scroll of the bloodline.


    Fiona waited for her at the top tform. When Dalisay reached her, they embraced briefly, then turned to greet the others already gathered.


    At that moment, another sleek car pulled up, and Ren stepped out.


    Ren Tsuki Kuroda, the Judicator of the werewolves and head of the Kuroda n of Japan, enforced packws and resolved internal disputes. He was the chief ofw, justice, and internal regtion.


    He wore a ck overcoat styled like a royal cape. It fell around him like shadowed silk, trimmed in faint silver that shimmered like a de¡¯s edge. His coat bore no crest or mark, and yet seasoned alphas would¡¯ve bowed their heads as he passed. His presence spoke of both empire and execution.


    His eyes, the color of tempered steel, scanned the council members before him. As he reached at the top stairs, he bowed slightly, then sped his gloved hands together in a greeting unique to his n.


    His gloves were embroidered with the runes of ten thousand verdicts. The ring on his finger once belonged to the first Moon-Blessed. He was the youngest and shortest member of the council, and always unfailingly polite.


    Just then, another luxurious car arrived. From it stepped Lucien.


    Lucien Marceau Valemont, the Treasurer of the werewolves and head of the Valemont n, oversaw all taxes, resources, tributes, and economic systems among the packs.


    He dressed as though even his threads held secrets. His midnight-ck suit was perfectly tailored, and a silver tie pin shaped like a wolf¡¯s fang biting into a coin adorned his chest. His gloves were soft leather, marked with faint runes. Even his scent carried weight of crisp cedarwood with underlying mystery.


    His pale amber eyes were steady and amused, like a man who already knew the answer to questions you hadn¡¯t asked.


    He ascended the stairs withposed elegance. The others greeted him politely. He was, after all, the most senior member of the council.

 Chapter 118: The Council Members-2

    <h4>Chapter 118: The Council Members-2</h4>


    At this time, three cars stopped one after another. Baatar, Amir, and Matthias stepped out from their vehicles.


    Baatar Erdene Altanshagai, the Lorekeeper of the werewolves and head of the Altanshagai n, served as the guardian of history, traditions, prophecies, and ancient wisdom. He maintained ancestral records with a devotion few could fathom.


    Baatar bore the stillness of an ancient mountain and the fire of stories untold. His weather-worn cloak, stitched with thread dyed from mountain herbs, whispered as he moved... each step deliberate, as if he were treading through time itself. His ck hair was braided into a warrior¡¯s tail, silver strands glinting like frost over stone.


    Eyes like obsidian slits scanned the world not for threats, but for truths... those hidden beneath dust, blood, and legend. A carved wolf-tooth talisman hung from his chest, said to have belonged to the first guardian of the steppes. Around his shoulders was a heavy scarf patterned with ancient n symbols.


    He greeted the others with a rumbling voice that rolled like distant thunder. "Looks like we are thest ones."


    This Mongolian born was the one who remembered what others forgot. Some said he could recite a thousand years of werewolf lore from memory. Others swore that his n¡¯s bloodline awakening process passed memories as though he had lived them himself.


    Beside him stood Amir Anpukhet Ahmose, the Schr of the werewolves. He was responsible for updating werewolf teaching modules and conducting supernatural research.


    Amir carried the weight of centuries in his gaze... eyes dark and deep like the fertile Nile under a moonless night, reflecting the secrets of forgotten knowledge. His tall, lean frame moved with the calm authority of one who had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations.


    His skin bore the rich, warm bronze of desert sun and river y, smooth but marked with faint, intricate tattoos resembling ancient hieroglyphs. These traced his forearms and neck, shimmering subtly when touched by light, alive with the stories they bore.


    His long, dark hair flowed to his shoulders, streaked with threads of silver that spoke of wisdom earned. He wore robes woven from fine linen dyed in deep ochres andpis blues... colors revered in his culture for their connection to the earth and sky.


    Around his neck hung a pendant shaped like the ankh, carved from polished onyx and etched with runes only he could decipher. His presence exuded a quiet power... reserved, yet undeniable. When Amir spoke, his voice was steady and measured, carrying the cadence of knowledge and the weight of a professor.


    The third figure was Matthias Halden Graventhal, the Arbiter of the werewolves and head of n Graventhal of Switzend. He was the mediator and voice of the lesser packs, responsible for maintaining bnce and resolving inter-n tensions.


    Matthias was a man carved from mountain stone: tall, immovable, and cold to the touch. His silver-threaded coat, tailored with precision in the Graventhal tradition, bore the insignia of bnced scales over a howling wolf... an emblem that spoke of judgment and harmony in equal measure.


    His hair, thick and swept back like a cier¡¯s crest, bore the streaks of time and trial. His eyes, a piercing alpine blue, missed nothing. Those who met his gaze felt exposed... measured not by status or strength, but by truth. He wore a ring forged from steel mined in the heart of the Alps, passed down through twelve generations of Arbiters. It never left his hand.


    Unlike the warlords and kings, Matthias did not dominate with raw power. His influence was quieter... like snowfall that covered conflict or silence that settled between roars.


    "It looks like it. But there¡¯s another car behind us," he said.


    His voice was low, tempered like fine steel, and each word seemed chosen with surgical precision. He spoke like a man ustomed to ending feuds with a sentence... or a stare.


    To the lesser packs, he was a shield. To the proud ns, a mirror. To the Council, the line between peace and blood.


    As the three stood together, another car approached and came to a stop. Sarika stepped out. At the sight of her, all three men ced their palms on their chests and bowed slightly, offering the proper respect due to a senior and a priest.


    Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Priest of the werewolves and head of the Harivamsa n of India, led the werewolves in rituals, spiritual guidance, and moon rites.


    Sarika stepped out of the car with the calm certainty of one who carried centuries of wisdom. Draped in silks that shimmered like the twilight sky, her presence seemed to blur the line between the mortal world and something far older, far deeper. Her attire clung softly to her form, dyed in hues of deep indigo and silver, reflecting the moon¡¯s gentle glow.


    Intricate runes iid with tiny, gleaming gemstones traced delicate patterns along her sleeves... symbols of protection and ancient power that pulsed faintly with hidden light. Her long silver hair, braided with care and reverence, fell like a cascading river to the floor, whispering of age, sacrifice, and spiritual strength.


    Around her neck hung the Crescent Fang, an ancient relic carved from the tooth of the first werewolf in her bloodline. It gleamed softly, a silent testament to her lineage and sacred duty.


    Her face was serene yetmanding, with eyes dark as midnight pools, reflecting bothpassion and the weight of the rituals she bore. High cheekbones and a gentle curve to her lips suggested quiet grace, but beneath ity a resolve as unyielding as the ancient stones of her temple.


    When Sarika walked, the air seemed to hum with quiet reverence... a living bridge between the spiritual and the earthly, the old and the new.


    She approached them and said softly, "It¡¯s about time. Let¡¯s go up."


    As they stepped onto the upper tform, the butler of the Lychos n opened the throne room doors from within. The Heir Apparent, Erevan Brontes Lychos, sat upon his throne, exuding his usual aura ofposed elegance.


    The council members entered the throne room with measured steps, bowed respectfully to the prince in ordance with tradition, and slowly made their way to their designated seats.

 Chapter 119: The Council Meeting

    <h4>Chapter 119: The Council Meeting</h4>


    After all the members were seated in their respective seats, the Heir Apparent, Prince Erevan Brontes Lychos, finally lifted his gaze to look at them. His eyes lingered on each council member for a brief moment. The throne room was tense, and a heavy silence filled every corner.


    Finally, the silence was broken by the prince himself.


    "Thank you for attending this meeting on such short notice. This matter is of great importance, and I appreciate the effort each of you has made in setting aside your personal duties to be here," his voice echoed through the throne room, steady andmanding.


    Everyone listened quietly as he continued, "My father, Damon Brontes Lychos, the King of Werewolves... the one you have followed for decades... is presumed dead in the other world. His life crystal shattered yesterday."


    He paused, giving them time to absorb the devastating news. As expected, a range of emotions crossed the faces of the council members.


    Although many had suspected the purpose of this emergency meeting, especially when summoned without provocation or war, the confirmation stillnded like a blow.


    They had not seen their king for the past thirty years, but knowing he was alive had been afort. Now, the sudden news of his death created a hollow in their hearts... an unexpected sense of loss, as if a vital part of their identity had vanished.


    Erevan knew better than to rush them. These were thepanions his father had worked closely with, and Erevan himself held them in a measure of respect. It was they who had called him from the other world three decades ago, guiding him in leading the council and governing the werewolf society.


    So he waited for them to make the next move.


    Eventually, Baatar Erdene Altanshagai broke the silence. Rising to his feet, he said, "I am sorry for your loss, Your Highness. We all are. But in this time of sorrow, we have responsibilities we must fulfill. We cannot ignore our traditions."


    He paused, sweeping his gaze across the room. Seeing agreement reflected in their expressions, he continued, "Our king perished while still on the throne. As per custom, we must enter a one-year mourning period immediately. A mass prayer to the Moon Goddess must be held on the next full moon. In ordance with Lychos n tradition, we must erect a statue of ourte king in the ancestral hall. We also need topile and approve a written biography of our king through a council meeting. Lastly, it is our duty to formally notify other supernatural forces of his passing."


    Once Baatar sat down, Lucien Marceau Valemont rose to speak.


    "I agree with the Lorekeeper. We must follow the rulesid down by our ancestors. There is one more thing... I believe the Lorekeeper forgot to mention the funeral. ording to tradition, a funeral must be held within ten days of the death of a king or queen, whether they are reigning or retired. The funeral day should be dered a day of mourning so that all werewolves may pay theirst respects."


    Amir Anpukhet Ahmose, the Schr, stood next.


    "Thank you, Treasurer. I wholeheartedly agree. I would now like to hear what our Ambassador, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor, has to say on the matter."


    Fiona stood with quiet grace. "I was waiting for the program details to be finalized before taking action. As the ambassador, it is my responsibility to inform the world. But to do that, I need confirmed dates and ns. In addition, the Raynor n will contribute one billion U.S. dors to the treasury for mourning expenses."


    The Treasurer stood quickly. "Thank you, Ambassador. I was concerned about funding such a significant event. Your support is immensely appreciated."


    Fiona nodded. "You are wee. Once the dates and locations are decided after this meeting, my n will handle invitations and logistics. The funds will be transferred to the treasury by tomorrow."


    Both of them took their seats. Then the Warlord, Sten Ragnar Fenroth, rose.


    "The army will take care of event security. However, I propose that we hold the funeral in the secr world for better essibility. Given the significance of our king¡¯s passing, other supernatural forces may attend to pay their respects. Among them could be spies. We must be cautious. Holding the event on Brontes Ind may not be wise under the circumstances."


    Then the Watcher, Yara Arara Neblina, stood up.


    "If we are relocating the funeral, I suggest the king¡¯s vacation home in Green Vige, New Jersey. We won¡¯t need to transport ceremonial items. Morristown Airport is nearby and rtively quiet. We also hold certain privileges there due to the Lychos n¡¯s contributions to wildlife preservation and infrastructure development in the region. The surrounding forest will allow my n to secure the area efficiently."


    The Warlord nodded and stood again. "I agree. From both a security and connectivity standpoint, that location is ideal."


    He paused, then added, "My Fenroth n will contribute one hundred million dors to the mourning ceremony."


    The Treasurer rose next. "My n will contribute five hundred million dors as well."


    One by one, the others began to dere their pledges to fund the ceremony. The room echoed briefly with numbers and solemn affirmations... until, atst, silence settled over them once more.


    Finally, Prince Erevan spoke again.


    "I agree with the proposed location. However, I don¡¯t want the funeral to be arge public event. After thirty years of disappearance, such a ceremony could spark questions we are not ready to answer. Keep it simple and limited to werewolves only. If others wish to attend, they may, but we will not send formal invitations."


    He paused, letting his words settle in the room, then continued.


    "I want the primary focus to be on the mass prayer. Every n under my rule must participate. Send sufficient funds to smaller ns so they can prepare and take part in the ceremony appropriately."


    The room fell silent again, but this time the atmosphere was different. Though grief still lingered, a sense of unity and purpose had begun to form among the council. Each member silently prepared themselves to honor their deceased king and fulfill the duties that tradition demanded of them.

 Chapter 120: All Rise!

    <h4>Chapter 120: All Rise!</h4>


    While the council members were quietly thinking about how they could showcase their ns¡¯ capabilities during the mourning period, Prince Erevan Brontes Lychos was thinking of how to end the meeting as quickly as possible and go inform his mother.


    Though, as High Luna of the werewolves, she had every right to know about her husband¡¯s death before anyone else, Erevan feared she might not be able to control herself. If she broke down, the news would likely spread through the pce staff and leak to the public before the council officially concluded their session.


    In werewolf society, the wife of the King is given the title of High Luna, while the husband of a Queen is known as the High Alpha. In the absence of a monarch, the High Luna or High Alpha is allowed to temporarily act as regent until a new king or queen is officially appointed by the council. However, if there is already a named heir apparent, the High Luna or High Alpha retains their royal status and stipend but does not hold ruling authority.


    The silence was broke as the Matron, Dalisay Mayari Cordillera, rose from her seat. Her voice was firm but respectful as she addressed the council, "I must remind everyone that, during the official mourning period, all forms of marriage ceremonies and festive celebrations are strictly prohibited. Only sacred rituals may be conducted during this time. I suggest we send a formal notification of this tradition to every n to prevent any misunderstandings."


    Prince Erevan nodded. "Agreed. I will issue a formal directive outlining the rules of conduct during the mourning period. Matron Dalisay and Lorekeeper Baatar, I¡¯d like both of you to assist my secretary in preparing this message."


    "Understood," they both replied in unison.


    Ambassador Fiona Elizabeth Raynor spoke next. "Should we send a message to the werewolves currently living in the other world to inform them of the king¡¯s passing?"


    The prince answered, "Yes, I believe we should. Many of my father¡¯s allies and friends are still in the other world, having chosen to extend their lives there. They deserve to know of his death."


    Fiona gave a small nod. "Very well. I¡¯ll handle the arrangements to make sure the message reaches them all."


    As she sat down, the Arbiter, Matthias Halden Graventhal, stood and addressed the room. "Do we have anyws concerning duels or criminal punishments during the mourning period? For instance, what if a duel results in death, or someone is sentenced to execution?"


    The Judicator, Ren Tsuki Kuroda, responded with his usual calm precision. "There are no restrictions on delivering justice or resolving disputes through duels. However, all death sentences must be deferred. If a duel leads to death... even by ident... the killer will be sentenced the same, but the execution will be postponed until the end of the mourning period. Likewise, those judged guilty of capital crimes will have their sentences dyed. Beyond that, any event resembling a celebration... birthdays, New Year¡¯s parties, full moon gatherings... are prohibited."


    A quiet murmur of agreement rippled through the council. Just as silence was settling again, the Priest, Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, stood, her expression solemn.


    "Council members, we have a constitutional concern that must be addressed." Her tone was reverent yet direct.


    "Though we have worked under the leadership of His Highness the Prince for the past thirty years, it is important to remember that he held the title of Heir Apparent. Now that His Majesty the King has passed, the prince is no longer an heir... but not yet a king either."


    She let her words sink in before continuing. "Due to the mourning period, we cannot hold a coronation ceremony for an entire year. However, the kingdom cannot remain without a monarch for that long. It would leave us vulnerable and unbnced. Therefore, I propose a temporary solution: let us formally recognize His Highness Erevan Brontes Lychos as the interim king of the werewolves until the official coronation can be held."


    She paused once more, then raised her voice. "I hereby nominate Erevan Brontes Lychos, son of Damon Brontes Lychos, to serve as King of the Werewolves until the next coronation ceremony."


    The room fell into stunned silence.


    Though everyone in the room had long expected Erevan to take the throne, the suddenness of the proposal... and the circumstances surrounding it... left them momentarily speechless. This was not the grand moment they had imagined for his rise, but it was necessary, and perhaps even poetic in its gravity.


    Ambassador Fiona remembered her mother¡¯s advice: "Follow the Priest¡¯s will. In the end, she decides based on her vision."


    She stood without hesitation, walked to the foot of the throne, and dropped to one knee. cing her hand over her heart, she bowed her head and dered, "Your Majesty, n Raynor pledges its eternal loyalty to you during your reign."


    The priest narrowed her eyes slightly and scoffed inwardly. "That cheeky girl. A simple verbal agreement would have been enough... but she went ahead and made it ceremonial. Now the others will be pressured to follow suit. Still... it works in Erevan¡¯s favor."


    Before her thoughts could wander further, Lucien Marceau Valemont, the Treasurer, stepped forward and kneeled beside Fiona. "Your Majesty, the Valemont n will follow yourmand without question."


    Next came the Warlord, Sten Ragnar Fenroth. With his usual gravitas, he knelt and said, "My Fenroth n shall be the sword and shield for your Majesty."


    The matron, Dalisay Mayari Cordillera, followed suit. "The Cordillera n stands with you, Your Majesty, in life and in death."


    One by one, the other council members joined them. Lorekeeper Baatar Erdene Altanshagai, Schr Amir Anpukhet Ahmose, Arbiter Matthias Halden Graventhal, Watcher Yara Arara Neblina, and Judicator Ren Tsuki Kuroda all stood before the throne, dropped to one knee, and pledged their loyalty.


    Finally, with a soft smile, Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Priest of the werewolves, stepped forward. Kneeling before the prince, she said, "We, the council of werewolves, offer our allegiance, service, and trust to Your Majesty, King Erevan Brontes Lychos. May the Moon Goddess watch over your reign. Rule us with wisdom and sincerity."


    A heavy, reverent silence settled over the chamber.


    Erevan stood from the throne for the first time since the meeting began. His voice was calm, but firm. "I ept. All rise."

 Chapter 121: The Level Between Ascendants

    <h4>Chapter 121: The Level Between Ascendants</h4>


    The news spread like wildfire to every corner of the Earth. Within just a couple of hours after the council meeting, the death of the werewolf king had reached the ears of almost every supernatural being... whether they lived in the high mountains, deep forests, or beneath the vast oceans.


    It didn¡¯t matter what species they were... werewolves, vampires, merfolk, fairies, or nagas... every supernaturalmunity buzzed with the shocking announcement. The death of such a powerful figure, followed so swiftly by the appointment of a new king, stirred up spection and gossip across the world.


    Whether the rumors were grounded in truth or pure fiction, everyone seemed eager to add their own version to the tale. Wild stories circted like a virus, each more dramatic than thest. However, among the higher-ups of the major ns, there was a noticeable air of restraint. They chose to act cautiously, quietly watching the developments unfold. Their primary concern wasn¡¯t just the new king... it was the council. Could this newly crowned monarch maintain control over his council and ensure stability in a time of political transition?


    Among all the supernatural beings, the dragons remained peculiarly silent. Their stillness didn¡¯te from ignorance orck of interest. On the contrary, their silence was a calcted move. As the peacekeepers of the Earth, dragons bore a great responsibility. They chose to observe rather than engage, keeping a close eye on all supernatural factions. They were particrly wary of anyone who might exploit this moment of vulnerability to disrupt the fragile bnce among species.


    Far away from the center of political upheaval, Eleanor received the news through her shadow team. Her instincts kicked in immediately. Without hesitation, she called Fiona to verify the situation directly.


    Fiona answered the call in aposed tone, "I just returned home from Brontes Ind after the council meeting. Word is spreading faster than I expected. But you don¡¯t need to worry."


    Eleanor sighed in relief. "I¡¯ve already heard a few ridiculous rumors. I wanted to check with you first before believing any of it."


    "That¡¯s wise. Ignore the nonsense. Erevan Brontes Lychos has effectively been acting as king for the past thirty years, even though he carried the title of prince. This change in title is symbolic more than anything. From now on, instead of calling him ¡¯Your Highness,¡¯ we¡¯ll refer to him as ¡¯Your Majesty.¡¯ There won¡¯t be any sudden policy shifts... not in the immediate future, at least."


    "That¡¯s good to hear," Eleanor replied. "Honestly, I never paid much attention to the political affairs of the council. I just wanted to make sure this change wouldn¡¯t affect us directly."


    Fiona chuckled softly. "You should start paying attention. One day, you¡¯ll have to step into my shoes. The sooner you begin understanding council politics, the better prepared you¡¯ll be. I had nned to take you to the funeral of ourte king and introduce you to the other n leaders. Unfortunately, His Majesty wanted to keep the number of attendees minimal. Only n heads are permitted to attend. But be ready... I¡¯ll definitely bring you to the next major event."


    "Grandma," Eleanor said with a yful sigh, "I¡¯m still too young to be dragged into politics. I¡¯mpletely focused on my businesses right now. Once I¡¯ve solidified my foundations and created something sustainable, I¡¯ll shift my energy to the political sphere. I¡¯m not avoiding it. I just believe I should be strong enough to walk beside you as their equal."


    "Business will always be in flux," Fiona replied matter-of-factly. "No matter how much you prepare, the market and economy will continue to evolve. There¡¯s never truly a point where you can say a business is stable... not when global politics, technological advancements, and even spiritual energies affect everything. I taught you that, and now you¡¯re trying to use it against me."


    Eleanor grinned. "You¡¯re right, Grandma. But remember, I¡¯ve told you before... I¡¯m working on building an AI assistant that can handle all the operational aspects of my businesses. I¡¯m investing in infrastructure all over the world just to support this AI. Once the system is fully functional, my workload will drop significantly. All I¡¯ll need to do is provide policy direction. The AI will take care of the rest."


    "That sounds like a fairy tale to me," Fiona muttered. "I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re building, but just hurry up and finish it. Once you take over my responsibilities, I¡¯ll retire and finally get some rest."


    Eleanorughed. "I even told you to study AI yourself. It¡¯s only a few thousand books. With your super speed, you could learn it all in a month."


    Fiona cut her off, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "Don¡¯t start lecturing me again. I told you, I¡¯ll learn all that technical stuff after I retire. For now, I need to go into seclusion and focus on raising my cultivation level. If I don¡¯t push forward soon, others will surpass me."


    "Speaking of cultivation," Eleanor said, her tone turning curious, "why isn¡¯t there any written information about it? I¡¯ve gone through every book in our n¡¯s library and evenbed through several secr ones. But there¡¯s no proper documentation. Just a few fantasy novels that barely resemble what you¡¯ve described to me."


    Fiona nodded solemnly. "That¡¯s because no written record is allowed. Those who ascended and entered the Other World form a soul contract with Yggdrasil when they take an oath not to reveal any details to the secr world. Writing about it is strictly forbidden. That¡¯s why the knowledge is passed on orally, and only to those who either belong to the supernatural world or possess a special bloodline."


    "I see," Eleanor murmured. "So what level are you at now?"


    "I¡¯m currently at Ascendant Level 4," Fiona replied. "That¡¯s known as the Spirit Ascendant level. Each level has four tiers... low, intermediate, high, and pinnacle. I¡¯m at the intermediate tier right now. Among the council members, only the King and the Warlord have reached the high Spirit Ascendant tier. The Judicator, the Watcher, and now the Matron are on the same level as me. The Lorekeeper and the Arbiter are still at the low tier. The Treasurer, Schr, and Priest are all at Level 3, the Soul Ascendant stage. Can you imagine the pressure I¡¯m under? The Warlord already surpassed me, and others might too if I let my guard down."


    "Okay, Grandma. I understand. Can you tell me the levels again? From the beginning?"


    "Of course," Fiona said. "It¡¯s actually quite simple. First, all beings are considered mortals. Those who awaken their bloodline are called the Awakened. Awakened individuals can enter the Trial of Yggdrasil. If they seed, they form a core within their body and be Level 1 Ascendants, known as Core Ascendants."


    "After that," she continued, "they need to cultivate further by developing a Spirit Vein. This marks Level 2, known as the Energy Ascendant stage. Thenes Level 3, the Soul Ascendant. Level 4, where I currently am, is the Spirit Ascendant. Finally, Level 5 is called Perfect Harmonization. There are no sub-levels at that stage. Once you¡¯ve perfectly synchronized your core, energy, soul, and spirit with your physical body, you achieve harmony and ascend to a higher existence."


    "And what¡¯s beyond that?" Eleanor asked, intrigued.


    "That¡¯s where things get mysterious," Fiona said with a hint of reverence. "Those who reach Perfect Harmonization are no longer bound to Earth. They be Saints. Saints are subject to strict limitations... they cannot return to the mortal world freely. There are rules in ce to preserve bnce."

 Chapter 122: The Seal Around the Earth

    <h4>Chapter 122: The Seal Around the Earth</h4>


    After thinking for a moment, Eleanor asked, "If you achieve perfect harmonization, then you can break through to the Saint level. Where would you go if you¡¯re expelled from Earth?"


    Fiona replied, "You misunderstood. On Earth, we can only reach the level of perfect harmonization. To break through to the Saint level, we must go to the other world. You already know that werewolves typically live more than 500 years. But that only applies to those who have pocket dimensions with abundant spiritual energy. Earth¡¯s natural spiritual energy is far too thin to sustain such longevity. If you look around, you¡¯ll see that only a handful of werewolves across the world have surpassed 200 years of age. Most of the long-lived ones never returned from the other world."


    She paused, letting the weight of her words settle, then continued, "In that world, we¡¯ve established cities resembling those from Earth¡¯s medieval era. We call them fort cities... strongholds where various supernatural species live side by side. Due to the abundance of spiritual energy there, beings can not only live longer but also cultivate faster. It¡¯s the only ce where we can truly grow past our limits."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes widened with curiosity. "So, to be a Saint, you have to go there?"


    "Exactly," Fiona nodded. "But there¡¯s a catch. Once someone bes a Saint, they can never return to Earth. There is a powerful seal surrounding our... an ancient and strict restriction that prevents any Saint-level being from re-entering. Several Saints have attempted to return in the past, defying the seal with brute force. They were all severely punished. Their cultivation cores shattered under the bacsh, and because their mortal bodies couldn¡¯t withstand the sudden loss of centuries¡¯ worth of energy, they died within days."


    Eleanor¡¯s voice grew soft. "That means... when you go to break through to the Saint level, you¡¯ll have to say goodbye to us."


    Fiona offered a faint smile. "Yes. That¡¯s the price we pay for seeking transcendence. But reaching that stage isn¡¯t easy. It takes time... many visits to the other world, each filled with trials and danger. It¡¯s impossible to progress to that level using Earth¡¯s resources alone. I¡¯ve already traveled there three times. My grandmother has gone more than ten times and is now at the threshold... perfect harmonization. Soon, she will leave us forever to seek her final ascension."


    Eleanor frowned. "But if the other world is so rich in energy, why would anyonee back to Earth at all?"


    Fiona replied, her voice solemn. "Do you think that world is peaceful? It¡¯s and of constant struggle and survival. You can only carry spiritual equipment when you go... no food, no modern supplies. Anything non-spiritual is destroyed during teleportation. That means you¡¯re thrown into a world where you must fight for every scrap of food, territory, and energy. Just imagine... a realm strong enough to allow supernatural beings to evolve. Now consider how powerful the native inhabitants must be."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Shit... I never thought of that. Now that I think about it, it makes total sense why people want to return to Earth whenever they can... to live here in peace, even if just for a short while."


    After a pause, she asked, "So, do you need to go there again soon for your next advancement?"


    "That¡¯s an option," Fiona said thoughtfully. "But I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll need to go right away. I believe I can reach the pinnacle tier of Spirit Ascendant right here in Rayndell, our n¡¯s pocket dimension. I¡¯ve umted enough high-grade spirit stones to support the breakthrough."


    Eleanor let out a sigh of relief. "That¡¯s good to hear. I was worried you¡¯d have to leave for the other world soon."


    Fiona chuckled. "Don¡¯t worry. If I ever n to leave, I¡¯ll prepare everything in advance. I wouldn¡¯t leave you unprepared to lead the n."


    A short beep sounded in the background.


    "I have another calling in," Fiona said. "I need to attend to it. Take care, sweetheart."


    With that, the call ended.


    Eleanor leaned back in her chair, her thoughts momentarily drifting. But her responsibilities didn¡¯t pause. She dove into her work, reviewing files rted to her new infrastructure projects in Nigeria and India. Reports, architectural ns, supply chain logistics... there was always something demanding her attention.


    After a couple of hours, she closed herptop and left the study. Stretching her arms, she headed down the corridor and stopped at Freya¡¯s room. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear Ethan¡¯s voice guiding Freya through a game level.


    "These two are getting closer by the day," she thought with a smile. "At this point, I could really call Ethan a good father."


    She stood quietly, watching Ethan¡¯s back as he knelt beside Freya, his voice calm and encouraging. The sight made her heart warm.


    Sensing her gaze, Ethan turned and noticed her leaning on the doorframe. His expression lit up, and he smiled. "Come in. We¡¯re just passing time while waiting for dinner."


    Eleanor stepped inside. "Freya, did you finish your homework?"


    "Yes, Mommy," Freya replied proudly. "Daddy checked it. I didn¡¯t make any mistakes!"


    Eleanor beamed. "Good girl. Even though your level is far beyond your ss, you still need to maintain the standards of your age group. That way, you¡¯ll blend in better."


    "I know, Mommy," Freya sighed. "You¡¯ve said that like a thousand times."


    "I have to remind you," Eleanor said gently. "It¡¯s my duty to protect you. You must never reveal your true abilities to ordinary humans. Humans fear the extraordinary... even if those extraordinary beings are human themselves. One day, you¡¯ll understand."


    Ethan stood up and stretched. "Alright, I think that¡¯s enough for one night. Let¡¯s go eat."


    "Yay! Let¡¯s go!" Freya chirped, hopping off the chair.


    The three of them went downstairs together and shared a warm, peaceful dinner. The calm of domestic life offered a stark contrast to the looming weight of the supernatural world they belonged to.


    ***


    At the same time, in his study, Barron Anthony Hayward Chapman sat alone in a dimly lit room, his fingers slowly flipping through an old photo album. His eyes lingered on a particr photograph... a young woman smiling beside him, radiant and full of life.


    "Joan," he whispered. "It¡¯s been so many years. And yet, I still can¡¯t forget you. Have you forgotten me already? Please... wait for me. My days are numbered now. I¡¯ll find you in the afterlife. Just wait a little longer."


    He closed the album with trembling hands and gently ced it back in the drawer.


    A man seated across the room, observing quietly, finally spoke. "How long do you think it¡¯ll take before you meet her in the afterlife?"

 Chapter 123: Let’s Hear a Story

    <h4>Chapter 123: Let¡¯s Hear a Story</h4>


    Anthony was startled by the second voice in his study.


    Other than the cleaningdy, no one had the permission to enter this room. Even she only came when he was out of the house. That was the strict rule he had imposed himself. This study was his sanctuary... a ce where he could reflect, read, and work in solitude. His personal thoughts remained behind this door, and he guarded them fiercely. When he was reading or writing, even the faintest presence nearby would disrupt his concentration.


    Though surprised and admittedly unsettled by the sudden presence, Anthony managed to keep hisposure. There, seated casually in one of the armchairs across from him, was a figure dressed head to toe in ck.


    "Who are you?" Anthony asked, voice calm but tinged with tension.


    Although his voice quivered slightly at the end, it was remarkable that he hadn¡¯t screamed or raised an rm.


    "That¡¯s not the right question," the man in ck said, his tone slow and deliberate. "The correct question is: What do you want?"


    The man¡¯s entire body, including his face, was shrouded in ck cloth. He sat with the air of someone who owned the ce...pletely at ease, almost disdainfully so.


    Barron Anthony Hayward Chapman had never encountered such a brazen intruder in all his years. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "Fine, then. What do you want?"


    The man leaned forward just slightly. "I want you to be the party chief... and work under my boss."


    Anthony scoffed at the sheer audacity of the request. "You think bing party chief is that simple? Although I¡¯ve never pursued leadership, even if I tried, it¡¯s a brutal uphill battle. There are alliances, deals, and decades of positioning. You can¡¯t just waltz in here and hand me a crown."


    He paused, his eyes narrowing. "I don¡¯t know how you managed to sneak into my study. And frankly, I¡¯m not interested in finding out which of my staff helped you. But I¡¯m giving you one polite warning: leave now. Otherwise, I¡¯ll call the authorities."


    The man in ck chuckled softly, the sound strangely devoid of humor. "Why the rush, Barron? We¡¯ve only just begun. I want to tell you a story. I think you¡¯ll find it... important."


    Anthony raised an eyebrow, suspicion hardening his expression. "Is this some kind of prank? Am I being recorded for some hidden camera show? Or is this some bizarre live show? Where did you hide your cameras?"


    He nced around the room instinctively, eyes searching for a concealed lens.


    "Rx," the man said, his voice calm. "There are no recordings. No livestream. This is real. I¡¯m genuinely here to tell you a story."


    He cleared his throat, then continued, "Listen carefully."


    "Many years ago," he began, "a young girl was sick one Sunday. Her family, as was their custom, went to church without her. They left her at home, thinking she would rest and recover."


    His voice grew solemn.


    "That day, a terrorist attack struck the church. Every member of her family died in the explosion. The girl survived by sheer ident, but she became an orphan in an instant."


    Anthony¡¯s eyes narrowed. He didn¡¯t interrupt.


    "A local clergyman from another church took her in temporarily. When higher authorities from the Church arrived to investigate the tragedy, a visiting deacon met the girl. The deacon, moved by the girl¡¯s story and resilience, took her to a church-run boarding school. She arranged a stipend for the girl and monitored her progress over the years."


    The man in ck paused briefly, as if letting the weight of the story sink in.


    "The girl turned out to be a prodigy. She earned schrships at every level of her education and eventually gained admission to a prestigious university. The deacon was so proud of her that she held a celebration at the church in her honor."


    Anthony was listening intently now, his earlier wariness reced by curiosity.


    "But, as with every story, there was a viin," the man continued. "A powerful local man with influence, wealth, and the means to destroy lives. The girl had fallen in love with his son. The powerful man disapproved of the rtionship. He sent his men to threaten and harass the girl, even warning her that her life... and the lives of those she loved... were at risk."


    The story grew darker.


    "Frightened, the girl turned to the deacon for help. By that time, the deacon had be an archbishop. She wielded some political weight. Although she couldn¡¯t directly confront the powerful man, she managed to secretly send the girl abroad for safety."


    He paused again, this time for longer. Anthony¡¯s gaze never left him.


    "There¡¯s a twist," the man said softly. "It waster discovered that the girl had been pregnant when she fled. She gave birth in a foreignnd, alone and in hiding. She never married. She raised the child... her daughter... on her own. A daughter born out of love, born in secret."


    A silence settled in the room.


    "The girl is now a woman. And that woman works under my boss."


    The man in ck leaned back, folding his hands on hisp. His story was finished... or at least, almost.


    Anthony¡¯s voice was barely above a whisper. "What are their names?"


    The man didn¡¯t hesitate. "The girl¡¯s parents were Jack Osborne and Katherine Wilson. The girl¡¯s name was Joan Kelly Osborne."


    The name hit Anthony like a thunderp.


    The man added casually, "Would you like to know the name of the viin in the story? Or the son she loved?"


    Anthony inhaled deeply, struggling to steady his nerves. His chest felt tight. His heart pounded against his ribs like a war drum. Slowly, deliberately, he locked eyes with the intruder... his gaze settling on the only visible part of the man¡¯s face: his eyes.


    And then, with a trembling voice, he asked the one question he needed to ask before tears clouded his eyes and mind.


    "Where is my daughter?"

 Chapter 124: Can I See Her

    <h4>Chapter 124: Can I See Her</h4> The study was plunged into silence. Neither man spoke for a long time. Anthony sat frozen, as if time itself had stopped for him. His hands trembled, his throat was dry, and tears streamed down his cheeks in quiet, steady lines.


    He was experiencing a storm of emotions... grief, disbelief, guilt, and a faint, dangerous flicker of hope.


    For years, Anthony had lived with the unbearable guilt that his father had killed Joan because of him. He had never forgiven himself for loving her so openly, so passionately, in a world that devoured vulnerabilities and punished emotions. Deep down, he believed that if he hadn¡¯t loved Joan, she might have lived. That if he hadn¡¯t defied his father, she might not have be a target.


    After Joan¡¯s supposed death, he had been inconsble. He used his father directly... fury exploding out of him likeva. His father denied everything, of course. But Anthony hadn¡¯t believed a word. He couldn¡¯t believe. Not after losing the love of his life.


    And then came another nightmare. His father tried to arrange a political marriage for him with the daughter of another influential minister. Anthony, bitter and still in mourning, secretly sought out the young woman, hoping she would reject the alliance once she knew of his past love. But what he found broke him further.


    The woman... his future wife... was even more pitiful than he was. She was battling an untreatable form of cancer, and the doctors had already given her only a few years to live. Yet her own family, hungry for status and alliances, suppressed her medical condition and tried to marry her off as if she were healthy.


    Anthony wasn¡¯t the only name on their list of suitors. If he refused, they would move on to the next nobleman. Knowing that Joan was gone and not wanting the young woman to suffer more indignity, Anthony agreed to marry her. It was a marriage in name only, for appearances. They had both agreed to that. They never shared a bed, only a mutual respect for each other¡¯s pain.


    The cancer worsened, and she passed away just a few yearster. By then, Anthony had cut off all ties with his father. He had refused to remarry, and his steadfast loyalty to his deceased wife earned him a strange respect in his inws¡¯ eyes. They had seen how he stayed with her during her final days in the hospital,forting her, tending to her like a devoted husband. Moved by his dedication, they had tried to match him with younger girls from their extended family... but Anthony refused them all. He remained a widower.


    Now, all those painful years came flooding back in a rush... memories that scraped at his soul like shards of ss.


    And then came the most bewildering part: the man in ck iming that Joan had lived, had given birth to his daughter, and that daughter now worked for a mysterious boss.


    Anthony wept, unable to contain the tide of emotion. When the sobs finally died down to sniffles and silent gasps for breath, the man in ck, who had watched him silently, finally spoke.


    "I already told you... your daughter is alive and working for my boss. Whether you believe me or not is up to you."


    Anthony looked up, eyes red and swollen. His voice was hoarse and cracked as he asked, "Can I... can I see her?"


    The man¡¯s reply was calm, deliberate. "That depends on your actions. You already know what my boss wants."


    Anthony wiped his face with his sleeve and nodded slowly. "I can do anything for you... to see her. But what you¡¯re asking... it¡¯s too much. I¡¯m not sure I can do it. It¡¯s almost impossible."


    The man leaned forward slightly, his tone confident. "Don¡¯t worry. You don¡¯t have to do anything. Just ept what is being offered to you. Your party is going to nominate you as the leader. All you need to do is ept the honor gracefully. Later, they will name you the next candidate for Prime Minister. You just have to smile, campaign, and win. My boss will handle the rest."


    He paused, then added, "And let me be clear... my boss is a businesswoman. Not a criminal. She¡¯s not asking you to sell your soul. Everything she needs from you will be legal, within the bounds of thew, and for the benefit of the people. But she needs someone trustworthy in that seat. That someone is you."


    Anthony shook his head, still dazed. "You talk like it¡¯s easy. I¡¯ve been in politics for over twenty years. If it were that easy, I would¡¯ve been Prime Minister already. You don¡¯t understand howplicated it is."


    The man In ck chuckled softly. "No, you don¡¯t understand how powerful we are. You just need to be mentally prepared. That¡¯s all."


    Anthony exhaled deeply. "Alright... I understand. I¡¯ll do as you say. Just... just let me see her. Please."


    Without a word, the man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a mobile phone. He tapped the screen a few times, then turned it around to show Anthony a photograph.


    It was a photo of him... young and smiling, taken during his university days. Anthony¡¯s eyes widened. "Where did you get this?"


    The man replied, "We found it in your daughter¡¯s home. She kept this photo of you all these years. That alone should prove who she is."


    Then he reached for a small box beside him and opened it. Inside was a ss vial, norger than a finger, containing a small amount of blood.


    "This is your daughter¡¯s blood," he said calmly.


    "Use it for a paternity test if you want confirmation. Just make sure it¡¯s done anonymously. We don¡¯t want anyone tracing it or putting you or her in danger. You¡¯re both valuable to us."


    Anthony stared at the vial, hands trembling again. It felt like holding a piece of his soul... a long-lost part of his heart that had suddenly returned.


    The man continued, "As for when you¡¯ll see her... that depends on how things unfold. First, do the test. Second, be cautious. Don¡¯t trust anyone around youpletely. If you think your staff are a liability to our cause, let us know. We can provide recements... security, secretaries, whatever you need. Just send word."


    Anthony looked up. "But... how? How do I contact you? You haven¡¯t given me a number or name."


    The man gave him a small, mysterious smile. "Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll contact you. And remember... this meeting never happened."


    And just like that, he vanished from the chair. No sound, no sh. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.


    Anthony sat motionless, staring at the empty chair. For a long while, he wondered if it had all been a hallucination... his mind conjuring up some borate fantasy out of guilt and longing. But then his eyes drifted back to the box in his hands.


    The vial of blood was still there.


    Real. Solid. Tangible proof.


    He clutched the box to his chest, his heart pounding. Somewhere out there, Joan¡¯s daughter... his daughter... was alive.

 Chapter 125: Transylvania

    <h4>Chapter 125: Transylvania</h4>


    Anthony sat in his study for what felt like an eternity. His thoughts spiraled endlessly, looping over everything that had just urred. The encounter defied all logic. A man had entered his heavily guarded home, appeared in his private study without a single sound, conversed with him as though they were old acquaintances, and then simply vanished... right in front of his eyes. No doors opened, no shadows shifted. He was just... gone.


    His heart pounded as he leaned back in his chair. He had heard whispers before... which he treated as rumors, about individuals with supernatural abilities. But that realm had always been in the special domain buried in the ssified corners of MI5 or MI6 where even the highest ranking officials rarely permitted to venture.


    Others treated this kind of story like fictions and from fantasy novels. No one liked to discuss such things seriously. They were fairy tales meant to scare children or entertain adults. Or so he had thought.


    But now, after tonight, Anthony could no longer dismiss those stories as myth. That man... whoever or whatever he was... had power that Anthony could barelyprehend. It was as if someone had stepped straight out of a Marvel or DCic book and into his study.


    "If someone like that wanted to rob the vaults of the central bank, who could stop him?" Anthony thought, a cold sweat forming at his temples. "He could go anywhere undetected. It¡¯s a miracle people with such power still choose to follow some form of order. Otherwise, the world would copse into chaos."


    Yet, what frightened him more was not the man himself... it was the person he referred to as "boss." A woman, clearly outside the sphere of traditional governments, who couldmand a person like that. Who was she? And how much power did she truly hold?


    Worse still, his own daughter was now working for this mysterious figure. Anthony felt a chill snake down his spine. The air around him suddenly seemed colder. He wrapped his arms around himself and inhaled deeply, trying to ground himself.


    But there was no turning back now. Whoever he was dealing with, whatever strangework he had stepped into, he had to follow it through. He had a daughter to care now. That fact alone gave him purpose... and he would stop at nothing to see her.


    Resolving to act, he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of an old friend... a trusted ally who also happened to run a reputable gic research center. It waste, but his friend answered after only two rings.


    "Still at theb?" Anthony asked.


    "Yeah, just finishing up some paperwork," came the reply.


    "I need to see you. It¡¯s urgent."


    Ten minutester, Anthony was driving through the dimly lit streets, the box containing the mysterious blood sample tucked safely in his pocket. When he arrived, his friend greeted him with concern.


    Anthony offered a brief exnation: he had recentlye across information that a woman might be his biological daughter, and he needed to confirm it through a paternity test. He left out all the supernatural elements and strange visitors. For now, the truth would only confuse things.


    His friend nodded solemnly. "We¡¯ll keep itpletely anonymous," he assured. "You¡¯ll have the results as soon as possible."


    Relieved and slightly more at ease, Anthony handed over both his and his daughter¡¯s blood samples and returned home. Now, all he could do was wait.


    ***


    Far away from the Kingdom, nestled deep within the mistden wilderness of the Carpathian Mountains... territory once known to the world as Transylvania... stood a fortress lost to maps and memory.


    The castle didn¡¯t just sit atop the mountain... itmanded it. Like a slumbering beast with its ws embedded in the rock, the obsidian colossus emerged from the mountain¡¯s very bones. Its silhouette pierced the night like a crown forged of shadow, spires twisting upward to impale the stars. The walls weren¡¯t merely built... they flowed, curving like molten obsidian hardened by time and magic.


    Midnight dew coated the surface, making the fortress shimmer like ck diamond beneath the dreamy moonlight. Veins of silver, faint but pulsing, glowed from deep within the stone. Ancient runes fossilized in the rock hummed quietly every few heartbeats, as though the entire structure breathed.


    Great iron balconies curled out like spider legs, while stained obsidian windows... tinted in blood-red and violet hues... refracted moonlight into jagged patterns on the cold stone floors. Light here was scarce, yet when it did appear, it was twisted and unnatural.


    Below, the ancient forest stood in unnatural silence. The trees were so old that empires had risen and fallen in their lifetimes. Silver-flecked leaves trembled in a wind they never acknowledged. Mist curled between gnarled roots like living things. The scent in the air was a heady mix of pine, damp earth, and something far more primal... an iron tang, like blood long since dried.


    The entire region thrummed with a magic that felt ancient... older thannguage, older than kings. Not oppressive, but vignt. Like the hush before a storm descends, the kind of quiet that makes even the bravest pause.


    The castle¡¯s main gate stood thirty feet tall, carved with the twisted faces of forgotten gods. These doors never opened without the Vampire King¡¯s explicit will. Above them, on the tallest tower, jutted a solitary balcony... so high it nearly touched the stars. That was the king¡¯s perch. Legends said he stood there when the world slept, eyes fixed on the horizon like a man who had lived too long to dream anymore.


    Inside, in the heart of the fortress, was a vast chamber... a meeting room carved from jet-ck stone. Eighteen high-backed chairs encircled a long table made of polished volcanic rock. Bioluminescent stones embedded in the ceiling glowed softly, casting an ethereal light that made the pale skin of those present appear even more ghostly.


    Seated around the table were the Elders of the Vampires, the members of the High Council, the ancient lords anddies of vampire society, each the sovereign of a powerful n, each as old as legend itself.

 Chapter 126: Tension around the World

    <h4>Chapter 126: Tension around the World</h4>


    Currently seated around the long obsidian table were the most influential vampires in the world: Lord Eirikr Nattheim of the Lofoten Inds of Norway, Lord Hwaran Bulhwa of Jeju Ind in South Korea, Lord Orhan Vardeyan of Cappadocia in Turkey, Lady Seraphyne Nyx Caernavar of the Isle of Skye in Scond, Lady Lyra Vespera Crymorra of Mount Erebus in Antarctica, Lord Manco Viray Yana Puma of the Andes Mountains in South America, Lady Zahira Nemet Serkhet of the Sinai Penins in Egypt, Lord Ferenc Nocturnis of the Carpathian Basin in Hungary, Lord Cassian Alborn Maravento of the Azores Inds in Portugal, Lord V? Huy?t Linh of the Mekong Delta in Vietnam, Lady Rowena Nightshade of the Appchian Mountains in the Eastern U.S., Lady Isolde Ravenshadow of the Boreal Forest in Canada, Lady Marli Nyree of the Blue Mountains in Australia, Lord Kunga Morven of the Tibetan teau in China, Lady Anika Valtor of the Kenai Penins in ska, and finally, Lord Alexander Ivanov of the Greater Caucasus in Russia.


    Only one seat remained empty... the seat reserved for the King of Vampires, d Drac Tepes.


    The Vampire King was currently in eternal slumber, a mystical method of preserving his life force. Over a thousand years ago, d had reached the threshold of perfect harmonization with his vampiric essence. Yet he refused to ascend or leave Earth, choosing instead to remain with his kind. When his body began to show signs of aging, he made the decision to enter this deep hibernation.


    He could only be awakened under one condition: when the vampire race faced a threat so dire it could lead to their extinction. No other reason was eptable. This was not due to pride, but necessity... for once awakened, he would begin to age again and could not re-enter slumber for at least a hundred years. Therefore, barring emergencies, the Vampire High Council handled all affairs of vampire society, bothrge and small.


    Today, the council had gathered to discuss the global implications of the death of the King of Werewolves. Although they were aware of the current interim king, the coronation had yet to take ce, and in their world, anything could happen before then.


    After hours of debate, the consensus became clear: war between vampires and werewolves was unlikely. The supernaturalmunity was tense, but not on the brink of open conflict. The only real possibility of disruption would be if another member of the Lychos n challenged the new king.


    No matter one¡¯s poprity, wisdom, or capability, supernatural society revered strength above all. Only a sacred duel could stop a Heir Apparent from ascending to the throne. Until the coronation ceremony was concluded, the vampire council would evaluate their rtionships with werewolf ns on a case-by-case basis, proceeding with caution and strategy.


    ***


    Simr meetings were unfolding across the globe among other supernatural factions.


    The Merfolk convened in their capital city, Nyrrendhal, located beneath the icy waters off the coast of d along the Reykjanes Ridge.


    The Nagas held counsel in their underground capital, Vasukihaar, hidden beneath the Ganges River in India.


    The Werehyenas gathered in their citadel, Nyth¡¯Sharun, nestled in the Lake Tana region of Ethiopia.


    All these councils arrived at simr conclusions. The supernatural world was in a period of uncertainty, and during the werewolves¡¯ mourning period, progress would slow. No faction was willing to take a definitive step forward until the bnce of power had clearly shifted.


    ***


    Unaware of the ripples coursing through the supernatural world, Eleanor focused entirely on her own ambitious pursuits. Even if she had known, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered. Her goals were singr, and her timeline was aggressive.


    Herpany¡¯s progress had to elerate to fulfill her ultimate objective: deploying a global surveince system that would change the very nature of politics and power.


    She was currently preparing a political maneuver that would reshape the kingdom¡¯s future. It wasn¡¯t just about influence; it was about control and foresight.


    "Ma¡¯am, wepleted the list of politicians involved in the Stockport case," Sebastian said from the other end of the phone.


    "Good. Send me the list first," Eleanor replied.


    Within minutes, she received a detailed file containing over fifty names... politicians, senior bureaucrats, and powerful businessmen. All were entangled in some way with Oliver Brown, the current Member of Parliament for Stockport.


    Without wasting time, she called Juliette nc.


    "We have the list. I¡¯m sending it to you now. Review it and let me know who we need to protect to ensure Baron Anthony bes the next Prime Minister."


    "Alright. I¡¯ll look into it and have a final report for you by tomorrow morning," Juliette replied.


    "Thanks. Also, we need to finalize the n. I believe we can move forward now."


    "If you¡¯re certain Baron Anthony will support you, then I have no objections," Juliette said.


    "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve already secured his agreement."


    "Very well. Then I¡¯ll begin working on the rollout."


    Eleanor ended the call and immediately contacted Sebastian again. "Collect every piece of evidence you can find in Oliver¡¯s possession. We¡¯ll need all of it to finalize our list. Once you¡¯ve secured everything, return immediately."


    She paused for a moment before adding, "We finish this mission tomorrow."


    With her orders dispatched, she changed clothes and went to bed, her mind calcting scenarios even as her body rested.


    ***


    The next morning, Eleanor awoke to find Isadora waiting patiently outside her bedroom.


    "Come in," she called. "Is there an emergency?"


    "No, ma¡¯am," Isadora replied. "I¡¯ve brought the evidence we retrieved from Oliver¡¯s residencest night. It¡¯s a long list. We thought it best to exin everything in person."


    "Alright," Eleanor said, gesturing to the sitting area.


    For the next thirty minutes, Isadora detailed the contents of files, digital data, financial records, and correspondences. The evidence painted aprehensive picture of corruption and backdoor dealings that spanned years.


    Eleanor took notes, her expression unreadable. When Isadora finished, Eleanor sat back, deep in thought.


    "This is more than enough to break Oliver and many other heavyweights," she murmured. "But we¡¯ll need to decide about which pieces we want to keep for ourselves."


    In a world already trembling with change, Eleanor was about to shake it even harder.


    (<strong>Dear Readers,</strong>


    Please do not read the following paragraphs of this Chapter, as they are repeated due to a technical issue.)


    <strong>(Dear Editor,</strong>


    Kindly delete the repeated section below.)


    Currently seated around the long obsidian table were the most influential vampires in the world: Lord Eirikr Nattheim of the Lofoten Inds of Norway, Lord Hwaran Bulhwa of Jeju Ind in South Korea, Lord Orhan Vardeyan of Cappadocia in Turkey, Lady Seraphyne Nyx Caernavar of the Isle of Skye in Scond, Lady Lyra Vespera Crymorra of Mount Erebus in Antarctica, Lord Manco Viray Yana Puma of the Andes Mountains in South America, Lady Zahira Nemet Serkhet of the Sinai Penins in Egypt, Lord Ferenc Nocturnis of the Carpathian Basin in Hungary, Lord Cassian Alborn Maravento of the Azores Inds in Portugal, Lord V? Huy?t Linh of the Mekong Delta in Vietnam, Lady Rowena Nightshade of the Appchian Mountains in the Eastern U.S., Lady Isolde Ravenshadow of the Boreal Forest in Canada, Lady Marli Nyree of the Blue Mountains in Australia, Lord Kunga Morven of the Tibetan teau in China, Lady Anika Valtor of the Kenai Penins in ska, and finally, Lord Alexander Ivanov of the Greater Caucasus in Russia.


    Only one seat remained empty... the seat reserved for the King of Vampires, d Drac Tepes.


    The Vampire King was currently in eternal slumber, a mystical method of preserving his life force. Over a thousand years ago, d had reached the threshold of perfect harmonization with his vampiric essence. Yet he refused to ascend or leave Earth, choosing instead to remain with his kind. When his body began to show signs of aging, he made the decision to enter this deep hibernation.


    He could only be awakened under one condition: when the vampire race faced a threat so dire it could lead to their extinction. No other reason was eptable. This was not due to pride, but necessity... for once awakened, he would begin to age again and could not re-enter slumber for at least a hundred years. Therefore, barring emergencies, the Vampire High Council handled all affairs of vampire society, bothrge and small.


    Today, the council had gathered to discuss the global implications of the death of the King of Werewolves. Although they were aware of the current interim king, the coronation had yet to take ce, and in their world, anything could happen before then.


    After hours of debate, the consensus became clear: war between vampires and werewolves was unlikely. The supernaturalmunity was tense, but not on the brink of open conflict. The only real possibility of disruption would be if another member of the Lychos n challenged the new king.


    No matter one¡¯s poprity, wisdom, or capability, supernatural society revered strength above all. Only a sacred duel could stop a Heir Apparent from ascending to the throne. Until the coronation ceremony was concluded, the vampire council would evaluate their rtionships with werewolf ns on a case-by-case basis, proceeding with caution and strategy.


    ***


    Simr meetings were unfolding across the globe among other supernatural factions.


    The Merfolk convened in their capital city, Nyrrendhal, located beneath the icy waters off the coast of d along the Reykjanes Ridge.


    The Nagas held counsel in their underground capital, Vasukihaar, hidden beneath the Ganges River in India.


    The Werehyenas gathered in their citadel, Nyth¡¯Sharun, nestled in the Lake Tana region of Ethiopia.


    All these councils arrived at simr conclusions. The supernatural world was in a period of uncertainty, and during the werewolves¡¯ mourning period, progress would slow. No faction was willing to take a definitive step forward until the bnce of power had clearly shifted.


    ***


    Unaware of the ripples coursing through the supernatural world, Eleanor focused entirely on her own ambitious pursuits. Even if she had known, it wouldn¡¯t have mattered. Her goals were singr, and her timeline was aggressive.


    Herpany¡¯s progress had to elerate to fulfill her ultimate objective: deploying a global surveince system that would change the very nature of politics and power.


    She was currently preparing a political maneuver that would reshape the kingdom¡¯s future. It wasn¡¯t just about influence; it was about control and foresight.


    "Ma¡¯am, wepleted the list of politicians involved in the Stockport case," Sebastian said from the other end of the phone.


    "Good. Send me the list first," Eleanor replied.


    Within minutes, she received a detailed file containing over fifty names... politicians, senior bureaucrats, and powerful businessmen. All were entangled in some way with Oliver Brown, the current Member of Parliament for Stockport.


    Without wasting time, she called Juliette nc.


    "We have the list. I¡¯m sending it to you now. Review it and let me know who we need to protect to ensure Baron Anthony bes the next Prime Minister."


    "Alright. I¡¯ll look into it and have a final report for you by tomorrow morning," Juliette replied.


    "Thanks. Also, we need to finalize the n. I believe we can move forward now."


    "If you¡¯re certain Baron Anthony will support you, then I have no objections," Juliette said.


    "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve already secured his agreement."


    "Very well. Then I¡¯ll begin working on the rollout."


    Eleanor ended the call and immediately contacted Sebastian again. "Collect every piece of evidence you can find in Oliver¡¯s possession. We¡¯ll need all of it to finalize our list. Once you¡¯ve secured everything, return immediately."


    She paused for a moment before adding, "We finish this mission tomorrow."


    With her orders dispatched, she changed clothes and went to bed, her mind calcting scenarios even as her body rested.


    ***


    The next morning, Eleanor awoke to find Isadora waiting patiently outside her bedroom.


    "Come in," she called. "Is there an emergency?"


    "No, ma¡¯am," Isadora replied. "I¡¯ve brought the evidence we retrieved from Oliver¡¯s residencest night. It¡¯s a long list. We thought it best to exin everything in person."


    "Alright," Eleanor said, gesturing to the sitting area.


    For the next thirty minutes, Isadora detailed the contents of files, digital data, financial records, and correspondences. The evidence painted aprehensive picture of corruption and backdoor dealings that spanned years.


    Eleanor took notes, her expression unreadable. When Isadora finished, Eleanor sat back, deep in thought.


    "This is more than enough to break Oliver and many other heavyweights," she murmured. "But we¡¯ll need to decide about which pieces we want to keep for ourselves."


    In a world already trembling with change, Eleanor was about to shake it even harder.

 Chapter 127: Welcome to India

    <h4>Chapter 127: Wee to India</h4>


    The day flew by faster than Eleanor had anticipated. After dropping Freya off at school, she headed straight to the office. As soon as she stepped through the main doors, she found Juliette nc already waiting for her.


    "Good morning, Elder Juliette," Eleanor greeted her with a nod and a warm smile.


    "Good morning, Boss. I was waiting for you," Juliette replied, standing as Eleanor approached.


    With pleasantries exchanged, Eleanor led her to her private office at top floor and gestured for her to sit across from her desk. She poured herself a cup of tea and leaned back slightly, ready to listen.


    Juliette didn¡¯t waste time. "I¡¯ve finalized the n," she began, unfolding two sheets of paper and cing them on the desk. "We need to save a total of thirteen individuals from the list. In total, we¡¯vepiled evidence against fifty-seven people, all of which could guarantee them a minimum of three years to a maximum of life imprisonment."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "And the thirteen?"


    "They are the ones who could be useful to us politically," Juliette exined. "If we ensure their safety and loyalty, the rest... forty-four people...prise members of the opposition, the ruling party, high-ranking officials, and influential businessmen. Most are politicians." She handed Eleanor the two pages.


    Eleanor took a moment to scan the first sheet, then shifted her attention to the list of thirteen. She read the names aloud, slowly: "Baron John Constantine, Lady Ang Dodson, Baron Ernest Prentice..." She continued down the list of MPs and frowned slightly as she reached thest three names... retired politicians with no current posts.


    Juliette noticed her reaction. "Don¡¯t be puzzled by those three," she said. "Though they¡¯re retired and hold no official position anymore, their influence within the party is immense. They might not be active, but they can still make or break a candidate¡¯s future. Oliver didn¡¯t have business dealings with them, but somehow, he came into possession of their old sex tapes. I reviewed the footage myself. It¡¯s clear these recordings were taken several years ago. I suspect he bought them to secure his position."


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze hardened. "And now we can use it for leverage."


    "Exactly," Juliette nodded. "They won¡¯t risk their reputations... not at their age. In fact, if they realize we¡¯re backing Barron Anthony Hayward Chapman to be the next Prime Minister, they may even throw their support behind us."


    "What about the other seven MPs?" Eleanor asked, setting the sheets down.


    "They each represent critical constituencies," Juliette replied. "Their influence isn¡¯t just local... it extends into national discussions. Other politicians rely on them, and they hold considerable sway in internal party decisions."


    She paused, then added cautiously, "I also believe we shouldn¡¯t let Oliver Brown be captured by the authorities."


    Eleanor tilted her head. "Why not?"


    "If he¡¯s taken in officially, we lose control of him... and worse, the information he might still be hiding," Juliette replied. "We only searched his house. There could be safes, bank vaults, or secret locations where he¡¯s stashed even more damaging evidence. If he¡¯s desperate enough, he might leak everything. That could backfire on all of us."


    Eleanor exhaled slowly, considering the consequences. "Then we capture him ourselves. Interrogate him thoroughly and then... eliminate the risk."


    Juliette nodded grimly. "Yes. We need to send a message... not just to Oliver, but to everyone else... that loyalty to us guarantees protection. Betrayal leads to silence."


    "Understood," Eleanor agreed. "But we need to wait until next week for the final move. I want to approach those thirteen individuals first and secure their cooperation. Once they¡¯re assured, we can report the rest and initiate a public scandal. Before the authorities raid his home, we¡¯ll have Oliver in our hands."


    "Why wait that long?" Juliette asked, a touch of impatience in her voice. "We could move in a day or two."


    "There¡¯s a backer behind the Brown family," Eleanor said in a low voice. "A powerful one. Next week, that person will be out of the country... busy and distracted. That gives us the window we need."


    Juliette leaned back in her chair, visibly surprised. "Even after all those names... he had a backer powerful enough to make you cautious. That¡¯s impressive. And dangerous."


    Eleanor nodded. "It¡¯s not someone we need to worry about long-term, but I prefer clean executions. No loose ends."


    For the next thirty minutes, the two women discussed logistics... avable assets, surveince deployment, digital tracking, safe house locations, and covert extraction routes. Once everything was confirmed, Juliette stood and left the office.


    As she exited, Teresa and Maya entered. Both were eager to finalize preparations for Eleanor¡¯s trip to India the next day.


    "We¡¯ve confirmed the itinerary," Maya said, handing her a folder. "Here¡¯s the list of delegates, hotel arrangements, and meeting schedules."


    Eleanor reviewed the file briefly. Then sent thie file to Sarika Somavati Harivamsa¡¯s secretary to confirm next days meeting.


    ***


    The following morning, Eleanor¡¯s Gulfstream jet took off from Manchester Airport under a clear sky. With her were Maya, Sebastian, and Isadora. The aircraft glided over continents and oceans as they crossed time zones and terrain.


    After a long nine-hour flight, the jet touched down at Agra Airport in India.


    As Eleanor descended the metallic steps of her Gulfstream onto the sunlit tarmac of Agra Airport, a wave of warm, dry air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and blossoming marigolds. The horizon shimmered in the midday haze, and beyond the airport¡¯s edge, the outline of ancient Mughal domes peeked through the haze like secrets from another time. The distant hum of life... car horns, temple bells, and murmurs of the city... reached her like echoes from a timeless world. Her designer heels clicked softly against the runway as her eyes caught the gleam of the Taj Mahal¡¯s marble dome, far off in the distance, like a pearl anchored to the earth.


    A tall Indian girl approached her, sped her palms together in front of her chest, bowed slightly, and said, "Miss Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, wee to India."


    She paused, then gestured toward a nearby hangar. "I am Tara Harivamsa. Our ride is this way. Please follow me."


    Parked nearby in a private hangar, a sleek ck helicopter waited, rotors still and silent, as if holding its breath for hermand. Two uniformed attendants stood at attention, and the pilot, already seated, gave a respectful nod through the ss. Without a word, Eleanor walked across the wind-brushed tarmac, her scarf fluttering like a banner behind her. As she boarded the chopper, the turbines whirred to life, and in moments, she was rising above the city... Agra unfolding below her like a painted scroll, red sandstone forts and windingnes basking in the golden glow of Indian sun.


    After half an hour, the helicopter des slowed with a whining hum, slicing the air one final time before settling into silence. Dust curled from the earth inzy spirals as Eleanor stepped out onto the stone helipad, her heels meeting the cracked, sun-warmed surface. The heat of Mathura¡¯s afternoon sun pressed down like a velvet weight, thick and shimmering, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were drawn to the weathered fa?ade before her... Keshav Deo Temple, its ancient sandstone walls glowing golden under the sun¡¯s gaze.


    Faded yet dignified carvings adorned the outer walls, whispering stories of gods, wars, and timeless devotion. The temple exuded an energy unlike anything Eleanor had known... sacred and heavy, as if the very air remembered millennia of whispered prayers. The scent of incense wafted faintly through the air, mingling with the fragrance of marigolds strung across the temple gate.


    Tara Harivamsa walked a few steps ahead, moving with practiced ease. Her long braid swayed with each step, and her white linen kurta fluttered lightly in the wind. "This way," she said softly over her shoulder, her voice nearly lost in the rustling of neem leaves nearby.


    Eleanor followed her through the temple¡¯s carved entryway, the cool stone beneath her feet a wee contrast to the dusty heat outside. As they passed under arches darkened with age, murmurs of chants echoed faintly in the background, though no priest or devotee was visible. The main sanctum pulsed with silent reverence, its deity hidden behind a curtain that trembled as if breathing. The temple felt alive.


    Tara led her through a narrow side corridor veiled with prayer cloths and hanging bells. The deeper they moved, the quieter it became, until even the chirping of birds seemed muffled. They stopped before a solid wooden door, carved with symbols Eleanor didn¡¯t recognize... circles within circles, lined with lotus petals and an emblem of the moon above a me. A subtle energy radiated from it, not quite threatening, but expectant.


    Tara gave three measured knocks.


    After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit room bathed in the warm glow of oilmps. The air inside smelled of sandalwood, turmeric, and rose water... ancient, earthy, sacred.


    The room was modest, yet rich in atmosphere. Scrolls were tucked into niches along the walls, and arge brass bowl in the center simmered gently with a pale mist. Cushions of deep crimson and goldy scattered across a woolen carpet. At the far end sat a priestess, robed in indigo and silver, her hair streaked with grey, her eyes sharp and moon-bright.

 Chapter 128: Blessed by the Moon Goddess

    <h4>Chapter 128: Blessed by the Moon Goddess</h4>


    Tara Harivamsa sped her hands in front of her chest, bowed her head respectfully to the priestess, and said, "Lady Rashmika, sorry to bother you. This is Miss Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, the Young Miss of the Ambassador n. The Reverend One is expecting her. I was asked to bring her to you."


    "Okay. Thank you, Apprentice Tara Harivamsa. You may leave now," Rashmika replied with a small nod.


    As Tara turned to exit the room, Rashmika called out, "Wait."


    She then turned her attention to Eleanor and said, "Miss Raynor, may I ask that yourpanions wait outside for a moment? Tara will apany them while you have your meeting."


    Although slightly surprised, Eleanor didn¡¯t let it show on her face. With a calm tone, she said, "Of course. You two, please wait with Miss Tara for the time being."


    From Eleanor¡¯s shadow, two figures silently emerged... Sebastian and Isadora. She hadn¡¯t brought Maya with her; Maya had been left behind to attend to other matters. Both members of Eleanor¡¯s shadow team bowed respectfully before stepping toward Tara, who was visibly shocked. She had apanied Eleanor the entire time yet hadn¡¯t sensed either of them.


    Rashmika turned to Tara and said gently, "You may wait outside now. Miss Raynor will join you shortly."


    The three of them exited and once the room was quiet, Rashmika turned to Eleanor with aposed expression. "Miss Raynor, please remain steady. I¡¯m going to open a dimensional door."


    "All right," Eleanor replied, intrigued. This was the first time she would witness dimensional magic in action.


    Rashmika took out a small, lustrous magic stone. Holding it like a quill, she began to draw intricate circr runes in the air while chanting a soft incantation under her breath. The air shimmered, and one by one, six exquisite golden runes formed, glowing with such brilliance that the entire room lit up like high noon.


    With precise movements, Rashmika reached out and pulled a rune to the center as though it were tangible, then another, stacking it over the previous. She repeated the process until all six runes had merged into a single radiant point. The golden light began to shift, softening into a soothing silver glow. Then, where the runes had floated, a doorway appeared... tall and graceful, revealing a vision of a garden bursting with life beyond its threshold.


    "Miss Raynor," Rashmika said with a small bow, "please enter. The Reverend One is waiting for you."


    "Thank you," Eleanor said, stepping forward without hesitation.


    As Eleanor crossed the threshold into another dimension, her senses were immediately embraced by the intertwine perfume of flowers. The air shimmered with scents... sweet jasmine, earthy marigold, and the rich fragrance of roses and hibiscus mingled together like nature¡¯s own incense. Bougainvillea vines fluttered on a gentle breeze, their papery magenta bracts dancing like butterflies.


    The garden spread out in gentle terraces carved into the slope of a ridge. Stone paths, iid with intricate pebble mosaics, curved between beds of golden sunflowers and Parijat trees, whose delicate white blossoms nketed the ground like fallen stardust. The soft hum of bees mingled with the distant song of birds.


    Lotus flowers bloomed from still ponds framed in sandstone. Dragonflies hovered above the water, their wings shimmering like fragments of crystal. Psh trees, aze with orange-red flowers, framed the eastern edge of the garden. Their twisting branches cast patterns of light and shadow across the grass like sacred art drawn by sunlight.


    Eleanor walked slowly, her fingertips brushing through the soft fronds of lemongrass andvender. She passed basil and tulsi nts tucked into corners, their presence grounding and sacred. In the distance, a small stone pavilion peeked out from beneath neem and gulmohar trees, their foliage mixing fiery reds with vivid greens.


    Everything here felt divine.


    Tiny prayer wheels turned gently in the breeze, their golden rims etched with mantras. Delicate terracotta bells, strung from branches of ancient peepal trees, chimed softly, as if greeting her in reverence. Birds flitted from tree to tree... sunbirds, hoopoes, magpies, parrots... and even a regal peacock dragging his iridescent tail along the stone path, unhurried and majestic.


    Eleanor paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The serenity soaked into her, melting away the weight of augean stables. This ce did not feel made by human hands. It felt like the Moon Goddess herself had woven it... each bloom, each breeze, ced with purpose and prayer.


    When she opened her eyes again, she continued toward the ridge, each step quiet and deliberate. The earth beneath her feet felt softer here, as though thend itself weed her presence.


    There, at the crest of the slope, bathed in golden light, stood Sarika Somavati Harivamsa.


    The Priest of the Werewolves!


    She stood still, serene, as if rooted in divine essence. She wore a single clothed robe of white Kashmir silk that flowed like moonlight... each fold catching the sun, each shimmer a whisper from the heavens. The robe which is called saree clung to nothing and yet revealed everything: grace, purity, and calm authority.


    Her long silver hair flowed freely, adorned only with a single braid tied with a silver thread. Her eyes... dark, still, and impossibly wise... looked out over the garden as if seeing beyond this world and into another.


    The moment Eleanor saw her, the world seemed to slow. It wasn¡¯t just beauty that held her still... it was reverence. A force that made her lungs hesitate, her steps slower, her heart thrum with a forgotten ache.


    The flowers near the ridge bloomed more vividly, their petals opening as if to salute. The birds didn¡¯t just sing... they offered praises. Even the wind softened its voice, caressing Sarika¡¯s figure with tender awe, not daring to disturb the sacred air that surrounded her.


    Eleanor felt the presence of the Moon Goddess in her... raw, pure, and impossibly vast... surrounding Sarika like an aura of living light. She had seen powerful people, magical beings, and divine descendants in her life. But this was the first time she felt like a child standing before the mother of the world.


    Eleanor felt as though she wasn¡¯t just looking at a person but at a symbol, an embodiment of divine grace woven into mortal form. Awe swept through her like a rising tide. This woman, this priestess, carried a presence so profound it could bring hardened generals to their knees and make even the most cynical souls believe in miracles. It wasn¡¯t the disy of magical aura that Sarika exuded; it was a deep, tranquil spiritual authority... an aura that needed no justification.


    She was the kind of woman the world did not create often... and certainly never by ident.


    In that moment, Eleanor felt humbled to her core. Her years of calcted nning, carefully constructed strategies, and theposed image she wore like armor... all of it felt insubstantial. It was as if her aplishments were whispers in the presence of a sacred song. Her steps slowed further, her heartbeat echoing softly in her ears, as if to remind her to tread gently in such sanctity.


    She finally exhaled, her thoughts barely more than a whisper within her own mind:


    "She¡¯s not just respected... she¡¯s revered."


    After drawing a deep breath to steady herself, Eleanor took another step forward.


    The priestess, Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, stood motionless. The moment her eyes settled on Eleanor¡¯s face, a flicker of recognition passed through her expression. A few days ago, this young woman had appeared in one of her visions, standing beside a child of immense potential.


    "This woman will shake the world in near future," Sarika recalled with quiet certainty.


    "My n must never provoke her... not even by ident."


    Still caught in thought, she weighed her words with care. Just then, Eleanor stepped closer, stopping a respectful distance away.


    She ced her palm over her heart, bowed slightly at the waist, and said with calm reverence, "Junior Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor pays her respects to her senior, the Priest of Werewolves... the Reverend One."


    Sarika returned to the present, her eyes softening as she looked at the beautiful young woman standing before her, showing such sincerity. She smiled and replied, "Wee to the ancient temple of the werewolves, Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. You are thest of the ten sessors in line of the council ns to offer respect to our ancestors."


    She gestured for Eleanor to step closer. "Come. I have something for you."


    From within the folds of her robe, Sarika produced a delicate Moonstone Ne, the gem at its center shimmering like captured moonlight. With great care, she sped it around Eleanor¡¯s neck.


    "This ne," she said gently, "is carved from an ancient Moonstone. It will help calm your thoughts and temper your inner storms. It won¡¯t erase your emotions, but it will soften them... giving you rity when you most need it. Wear it well, and let it guide you."


    Eleanor bowed once more and said sincerely, "Thank you for your kindness. This is a precious gift."


    She lifted her hand briefly to touch the pendant. It was cool against her skin, but oddlyforting. There was something felt alive within it... something that pulsed gently, as if the stone itself breathed in rhythm with her.


    Curiosity drew her gaze around the lush garden once again. She realized she hadn¡¯t seen any grand structure or temple... no stone sanctum or carved altar. Just this timeless garden filled with sacred energy.


    Sarika noticed her searching eyes and said, "Do not look for walls or rooftops. You are already inside the temple."


    She gestured around them. "This pocket dimension is the ancient temple of the werewolves. The spirits of our ancestors rest here. This Is the oldest sanctified space our kind has preserved... a living monument, not built by hands but nurtured by faith. Many of our ancestors were buried beneath this soil. Every flower, every stone, every whisper of wind bears their will."


    Eleanor¡¯s expression turned solemn.


    "I brought you here to pay your respects," Sarika continued. "It is a sacred rite we ask of those who hold the future of our kind. All that is required is this... ce three drops of your blood in that pond and bow three times."


    She pointed toward a nearby pond, its surface dotted with lilies and glowing faintly in the soft garden light.


    Eleanor walked forward without hesitation. She drew a thin de from her belt and made a small cut on her finger. Three drops of blood fell into the pond, dissolving instantly into the water.


    She then bowed deeply, once... twice... and a third time.


    Rising, she spoke clearly, her voice steady, "Ancestors of the werewolves, I... Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor... havee to offer my respect. Please bless me with your guidance and strength."

 Chapter 129: The Spirits of Werewolves

    <h4>Chapter 129: The Spirits of Werewolves</h4>


    A gentle ripple passed through the pond. The lilies swayed, though no wind touched them. For a moment, the entire garden shimmered faintly, as if acknowledging Eleanor¡¯s presence and her solemn prayer.


    Eleanor felt a surge of unfamiliar energy entering her body, spreading through every cell with a tingling warmth. It was not overwhelming, but invigorating... as though every fiber of her being had been awakened. She felt energized, cleansed, as if she had just awakened from a long, fulfilling sleep and bathed under sunlight. Her eyes closed instinctively, and she drew in a deep, calming breath, a faint smile ying on her lips.


    Sarika stood inplete silence, watching the scene unfold. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly in satisfaction.


    "The ancestors have epted her," she thought with awe. "There¡¯s no mistake... she carries the blood of Elizabeth Raynor."


    Just as Sarika reached this conclusion, her eyes widened in disbelief. From the sacred ground around the pond, countless translucent, spectral forms began to rise. Illusory werewolves, aglow with an ancient aura, emerged in silence, their ghostly figures illuminated in the shimmering garden light. One by one, they turned toward Eleanor and shifted into human form... men and women of regal bearing, each etched with timeless strength.


    Then, silently, they dropped to one knee in unison, facing Eleanor with reverence.


    Sarika¡¯s breath caught in her throat. "This... this is the selection of a king!"


    Only two of the spirits remained standing. One was a tall,manding male figure wearing a illusory crown, Erymanthus Brontes Lychos, the ancient king of the werewolves. Beside him stood a woman of radiant grace and unearthly beauty... Elizabeth Raynor, the ancestor of the Raynor n. The two walked past the kneeling specters without hesitation and stood before the oblivious Eleanor.


    Eleanor, eyes still closed and mind adrift in the energy flowing through her, remained unaware of the spiritual congregation around her. Even if she had opened her eyes, she would not have seen them... only those attuned to the spirit realm could witness this miracle.


    Sarika, as the Priestess of the Werewolves, possessed this rare ability. In the entire Harivamsa n, only three others shared some fraction of her attunement.


    As Sarika watched, her heart pounding in awe, King Erymanthus and Elizabeth Raynor raised their hands in perfect synchronicity and gently ced them atop Eleanor¡¯s head. Light flowed from their palms in luminous streams.


    Momentster, they retracted their hands, and above Eleanor¡¯s head, a shimmering illusory crown appeared. It hovered there, glowing with a subtle brilliance. Then, both spirits stepped back and began to dissolve, their forms fading like mist into the earth. The other ancestral spirits followed, vanishing silently from their kneeling positions into the sacred soil.


    Eleanor, standing alone in the center of this majestic rite, felt an unseen pressure descend upon her. It was as if a mountain of invisible force weighed down on her shoulders. Her knees buckled slightly, and her eyes opened in rm.


    She tried to stand her ground, gritting her teeth, willing her body to remain upright. But the pressure was too immense... too ancient and absolute. After a few seconds of resistance, her strength gave out, and she copsed gently onto the grass.


    Sarika snapped out of her stunned silence. She rushed forward and knelt beside Eleanor, cing her hand over the young woman¡¯s heart. After confirming that she was breathing steadily and her pulse was normal, she let out a soft sigh of relief.


    Helping Eleanory morefortably on the soft grass, Sarika sat beside her, her mind spinning with questions and revtions.


    "She was crowned... by the ancestors. Not just epted... but crowned."


    "That means she carries royal blood... But how? She awakened Elizabeth Raynor¡¯s bloodline, that much is clear. The Raynor n must be sure... there¡¯s no way they¡¯d name her their Young Miss otherwise."


    "But Elizabeth appeared alongside the king... and participated in the coronation ritual. That has never happened before."


    Her brows furrowed in concern.


    "Does this mean the Raynor n is destined to be the next royal n? That the ancestor of Lychos n has passed the crown to the Raynor n?"


    "What will be of the Lychos n if the ancestral crown has chosen Eleanor?"


    A thousand questions flooded her mind, crashing like waves. Her thoughts raced until one chilling possibility made her freeze.


    "Could it be...?" She whispered to herself. "Yes. That might be the only exnation."


    Without dy, she reached into her storage ring and retrieved a small, delicate jade bottle. She knelt once again beside Eleanor and gently reopened the tiny wound on her finger... the same one Eleanor had used to offer her blood to the ancestors.


    Carefully, Sarika collected a few drops of blood into the jade bottle, sealed it tightly, and ced it back into her dimensional storage.


    Then, with practiced ease, she chanted a soft incantation and ced her palm over the wound. A glow of healing energy mended the cut Instantly, leaving no trace behind.


    Sarika stood and raised both hands. With a series of drawn runes, she opened a dimensional door... its edges shimmering with spiritual light. She lifted Eleanor in a gentle princess carry and stepped through the portal.


    On the other side, Rashmika, who had been waiting, gasped when she saw Eleanor¡¯s unconscious form. Her eyes widened in worry, but she did not speak, waiting instead for Sarika¡¯s instruction.


    Sarika carried Eleanor to the bed in the corner of the room and gentlyid her down.


    She turned to Rashmika, her tone calm but firm.


    "Inform all members of the Harivamsa n. From this moment forward, Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor will be treated with the respect like an Elder of our n. She is not to be hindered in any way, and all her missions shall be supported... so long as they do not harm the interests of our people."


    Rashmika blinked in surprise, then bowed deeply. "As youmand, Reverend One."


    Sarika¡¯s gaze hardened slightly. "This information must remain sealed within the n. No one else is to know... not even Eleanor herself. Do you understand?"


    "Yes, Reverend One. I will see it done," Rashmika replied solemnly.


    Sarika nodded, then walked back to Eleanor¡¯s bedside. She ced her hand lightly on the girl¡¯s forehead and murmured an incantation. A soft glow spread from her fingertips, wrapping Eleanor in a faint spiritual cocoon.


    With that, Sarika stepped back through the dimensional door. It shimmered once, then vanished behind her.


    A few momentster, Eleanor stirred.


    She blinked slowly, disoriented. Her body ached slightly, but there was a strange warmth inside her... a lingering sense of calm and power. Though most of the memory was fuzzy, fragments remained like scenes from a dream.


    She vaguely recalled thunder... a battle... and a woman looked like Elizabeth Raynor was smiling at her. But everything was hazy, elusive.


    Sitting up slowly, she realized she was back in the familiar room from which she had entered the ancient temple. She turned and saw Rashmika standing not far away, watching her with a curious yet unreadable expression.


    "Wasn¡¯t I just... in the ancient temple?" Eleanor asked, still dazed.


    "Yes," Rashmika replied, stepping closer. "The Reverend One brought you here after you lost consciousness."


    "Where is she now? I need to speak with her," Eleanor said urgently, starting to rise.


    "She had to leave," Rashmika said calmly. "But she asked me to take care of your needs. You may tell me anything you require, and I will ensure it is done."


    Eleanor sighed in relief, sinking back onto the bed with a quiet thump. Though thefort of the soft mattress grounded her somewhat, she still felt a lingering disorientation from what had transpired at the ancestral temple.


    She drew in a few long breaths, closing her eyes to settle her nerves. Gradually, the whirlwind in her mind slowed, and the tightness in her chest eased. Opening her eyes again, she sat up and nced at Rashmika, who stood silently nearby, hands sped before her. Her demeanor was calm, but her eyes held a flicker of concern and curiosity.


    "Sorry for the dy," Eleanor said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I was slightly disoriented after visiting the ancestral temple. It was... overwhelming."


    Rashmika offered a gentle nod. "It¡¯spletely understandable. The temple has a powerful presence. Many feel the same after their first experience." She paused briefly before continuing, "Can you tell me how we may assist you now?"


    Eleanor straightened her posture, slipping into her professional demeanor. "I recently acquired severalpanies in Taramani, Chennai. Since India is your territory, I¡¯d like to form a cooperative rtionship with the Harivamsa n. I believe it¡¯s only right to discuss matters of business on your soil with the local power."


    Rashmika¡¯s brow arched slightly, intrigued. "And what kind of cooperation are you looking for?"


    "I¡¯m fully capable of managing my businesses," Eleanor said, her tone steady. "But I¡¯m aware that operating in a new region, especially one with aplex local framework, can present unforeseen challenges... bureaucratic hurdles, cultural nuances, local politics, and, of course, security concerns. So, I propose to give five percent of shares in all mypanies to your n in exchange for administrative support, security personnel, and assistance in securing favorable deals with government bodies when necessary."


    She leaned forward slightly. "Don¡¯t think I¡¯m lowballing you. That five percent still amounts to millions of dors. And I only own seventy percent of the sevenpanies I¡¯ve acquired so far."


    Rashmika raised a hand in reassurance. "No need to worry, Miss Raynor. The Raynor n is an ally of the Harivamsa n. Naturally, we would help you, even if you didn¡¯t offer us any shares. All you need to do is ask."


    She paused thoughtfully before continuing. "That said, since your businesses are based in Chennai, Tamil Nadu, it would be wise to involve the Naga People. They are the dominant force in that region... respected, influential, and deeply rooted. With their backing, your operations would be much smoother."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes lit up with interest. "Can you help me get in touch with the Nagas? I¡¯d appreciate an introduction."


    "Of course," Rashmika said with a smile. "That¡¯s what I¡¯m here for."


    Without another word, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number from memory. The call was answered after two rings.


    "Samantha Nagavanshi," Rashmika said in a teasing tone, "the only daughter of the mighty Naga King... you¡¯ve forgotten your poor friend. If I hadn¡¯t called, I bet you would¡¯ve forgotten I exist!"


    A soft chuckle could be heard on the other end. After a few more lighthearted exchanges, Rashmika shifted her tone. "Listen, I have an associate here from the United Kingdom. She¡¯se to do business in India, and I¡¯d like to set up a meeting with your father as soon as possible. In fact, we¡¯re ready to meet him right now, if he¡¯s avable."


    She nced at Eleanor and added, "Just tell him the associate¡¯s name is Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor... and that my grandmother herself has endorsed her."


    There was a pause, then Samantha replied cheerfully, "You¡¯re lucky. He¡¯s currently at our Delhi home. Wait a minute... I¡¯ll speak to him now."


    The call ended with a soft click, leaving the room in silence for a few moments.

 Chapter 130: The Naga King

    <h4>Chapter 130: The Naga King</h4>


    Vasuki Prabhas Nagavanshi enjoyed spending his quiet moments with his wife, Pavi. As a Naga, it was in his nature to dedicate his life to one woman. Unlike many supernatural species, Nagas believed deeply in love... true love, the kind thatsted lifetimes. Some Nagas spent their entire lives searching for their destined partners, only to pass on alone, never having found them. Polygamy was not just frowned upon in Naga society... it was strictly forbidden.


    Theirmitment to monogamy wasn¡¯t born ofw but of tradition and nature. Nagas couldn¡¯t have offspring with humans or other species. While they could engage in sexual rtionships outside their race, no child could evere from it. That was why there were no known Naga hybrids in the world.


    To ensure that every Naga had a chance to find a soulmate, their ns held numerous social gatherings and festivals throughout the year. One of the most significant was the Cupid Ceremony, where only single male and female Nagas participated. It was both a celebration and a sacred ritual... a chance for hearts to recognize one another.


    Vasuki Prabhas Nagavanshi was a man admired not just as a leader but as a lover. As the King of the Nagas, he had the means, power, and permission to indulge in many rtionships, especially with humans from the secr world. Naga customs only forbade him from marrying more than one woman... they did not restrict him from seeking pleasure. And yet, like his father before him, Prabhas had never strayed. He gave his heart wholly to Pavi and had never looked elsewhere.


    At that moment, hey resting with his head in Pavi¡¯sp. They were in their private chamber, watching a historical drama on TV. Pavi¡¯s fingers moved in slow circles across his scalp, her touch calming and warm. The quiet hum of the screen filled the air, a rare moment of peace in the life of a king.


    That peace didn¡¯tst long.


    Their daughter, Samantha, burst into the room without knocking... again. She had never truly outgrown her habit of barging in, even as a grown woman. To her, this was still home, and they were still her parents.


    Prabhas opened one eye and smiled softly at her, amused by her familiarck of boundaries. "What is it, baby girl?"


    "Dad," Samantha said, catching her breath. "Rashmika just called. She wants to meet with you as soon as possible."


    Prabhas raised a brow. "Which Rashmika? Rashmika Harivamsa?"


    "Yes," Samantha nodded.


    His smile faded slightly. "What does she want to meet about?"


    "She mentioned someone named Eleanor. From the United Kingdom. Apparently, her grandmother endorsed her."


    At that, Prabhas jolted upright, pulling his head off Pavi¡¯sp so suddenly that she blinked in surprise.


    "Did she mention her full name?" he asked sharply. "Is it Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor?"


    Samantha frowned. "Yes... that¡¯s the name."


    "Fuck!" Prabhas exploded, eyes widening. "Why did that murderess bitche here? What business does she have with me?"


    Pavi narrowed her eyes. "Prabhas...nguage."


    "Sorry," he muttered. "I just couldn¡¯t control myself."


    Samantha crossed her arms. "Dad, why are you behaving like this? You¡¯ve never reacted to someone like that before."


    Prabhas took a deep breath and turned to his daughter. "Let me ask you something. Suppose you wanted to buy apany you really liked, but the owner refused to sell. What would you do?"


    "I¡¯d raise my offer," Samantha replied instantly.


    "Exactly. That¡¯s what any normal businessperson would do. But not Eleanor." His voice turned cold. "She¡¯ll destroy thepany."


    Samantha blinked. "What?"


    "If thatpany belongs to arger business group," he continued grimly, "she¡¯ll make the entire group go bankrupt. Then she¡¯ll swoop in and buy them for a fraction of their original value. That¡¯s Eleanor Raynor¡¯s style."


    Pavi and Samantha were silent.


    "And that¡¯s not all," Prabhas said darkly. "Suppose a business rival starts spreading rumors about yourpany. What would you do?"


    Samantha hesitated. "I¡¯d try to resolve the issue diplomatically... maybe address the rumors publicly, fix the damage."


    He scoffed. "Eleanor doesn¡¯t waste time with PR. She kills them. The rival, their staff, their PR team... anyone involved."


    "Dad..." Samantha¡¯s voice faltered. "How does she get away with it?"


    "Because she¡¯s not just anyone," Prabhas said. "She¡¯s the Young Miss of the Raynor n... the werewolf ambassador n. The richest n in the supernatural world."


    "She uses her n¡¯s power?" Pavi asked, frowning.


    "No," he said bitterly. "She doesn¡¯t need to. Eleanor has over two hundred billion dors under her name. Personally. She can destroy countries if she feels like it."


    Pavi sighed. "Alright. That¡¯s troubling. But why does it concern us directly?"


    "Because when she arrives, disaster follows," Prabhas replied. "If she¡¯se to India, the Indian business world is in danger. I just hope she hasn¡¯t set her eyes on any of ourpanies."


    Pavi leaned forward and ced a hand on his. "Calm down. She came to meet you. Then meet her. Maybe things won¡¯t go badly. What she¡¯s done to others has nothing to do with us... unless we give her a reason."


    Prabhas exhaled. "You¡¯re right."


    He turned to Samantha. "Call Rashmika. Tell her toe here. I¡¯ll be in Delhi until tomorrow morning."


    Samantha nodded and stepped out to make the call. Rashmika, upon hearing Prabhas¡¯s decision, agreed toe at once and end the matter quickly.


    Eleanor and Rashmika stepped out of their room and boarded the same helicopter that had brought Eleanor. Tara, Sebastian, and Isadora were already waiting outside and followed closely behind.


    Nearly an hourter, the helicopter descended into a courtyard nketed in green,nding gently on a stone helipad surrounded by manicured grass and flowering vines.


    Eleanor stepped out first, her boots clicking against the sandstone tiles. The sun-drenched vi before her rose like a monument of elegance and quiet power.


    The estate was an architectural marvel, built from creamy sandstone and veined white marble. It shimmered under the afternoon sun. Ornate jharokha-style balconies protruded from the upper floors, each intricately carved with floral and serpentine motifs. The grand windows were shielded by jaali screens... delicatettices that filtered sunlight into patterns of light and shadow dancing across the walls.


    The air smelled of damp earth, sandalwood incense, and mogra blossoms... sweet, heady, unmistakably Indian.


    The vi¡¯s courtyard was alive with nature. Towering neem, peepal, and champa trees whispered in the breeze, which carried with it the cool scent of the Yamuna River just beyond the garden. A stone pathway curved through rows of blooming flowers... hibiscus, marigolds, jasmine, wild roses... while lotus ponds gleamed under the banyan trees. Brass statues of Nagas and deities watched silently from beneath the canopies, their eyes catching the light like living guardians.


    A figure rushed toward them and wrapped Rashmika in a warm embrace.


    "Rashmika, you¡¯ve be even more beautiful," Samantha eximed, her eyes lighting up with joy.


    Rashmika returned the hug with equal warmth. "You¡¯ve turned into a properdy now. It¡¯s really good to see you again."


    Samantha nodded eagerly. "It¡¯s so good to see you too. Come on, Mom and Dad are waiting. They¡¯ll be happy you¡¯re here."


    Before they could move, Rashmika turned slightly and gestured to the elegant woman standing beside her. "Let me introduce you first. This is Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, the Young Miss of the Raynor n of werewolves."


    Samantha blinked, suddenly realizing she¡¯d overlooked formalities. She bowed her head slightly in respect. "Apologies. I was too excited to see Rashmika after more than a year. I¡¯m Samantha Nagavanshi. It¡¯s an honor to meet you."


    Eleanor returned the polite nod, her voice calm andposed. "No need to apologize. It¡¯s nice to meet you as well, Samantha."


    Samantha gave a lightugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. "You look even more beautiful than both of us. Rashmika, it seems you¡¯ve got some seriouspetition."


    Rashmika rolled her eyes. "Stop with your enthusiasm already. Where are your parents?"


    Samantha pointed toward the distance. "Oh, they¡¯re waiting near the riverside. Come with me."


    With that, Samantha began walking, leading the way through the winding garden paths. Only Rashmika and Eleanor followed her; the others remained near the helicopter, giving them space.


    They walked through corridors lined with flowering vines and beneath archways carved with intricate Naga symbols. The vi grounds exuded a sense of ancient calm, a harmony between nature and tradition. Soon, the shimmer of sunlight reflecting off water came into view.


    As they approached, the vast Yamuna River revealed itself, flowing gently under the afternoon sun. Near the riverbank, a natural canopy of leafy vines created a shaded nook. Beneath it sat a graceful woman in a royal blue saree, her presence dignified yet warm. Beside her stood a broad-shouldered man in a crisp white robe, his bearing powerful yet serene.


    They were the Queen and King of the Naga people.


    Upon seeing the visitors, both of them rose to their feet with a weing smile.


    The King spoke first, his deep voice resonating with authority and hospitality. "Young Misses of the Harivamsa n and the Raynor n of werewolves... wee to our humble abode. We are honored by your visit."

 Chapter 131: Settling Indian Businesses

    <h4>Chapter 131: Settling Indian Businesses</h4>


    Eleanor ced her palm on her heart and bowed slightly with proper etiquette. Her voice carried dignity and poise as she said,


    "To the sovereign of the Naga People, the mighty Vasuki Prabhas Nagavanshi, and to the Queen of the Nagas, Her Highness Pavi Nagavanshi... please ept my utmost respect. Thank you for receiving me and offering your valuable time. It is truly a pleasure to meet you both."


    King Prabhas offered a small smile, a glint of curiosity in his eyes.


    "The pleasure is mine, Miss Raynor. I¡¯ve heard quite a lot about your aplishments in the United States. I must admit, I¡¯m surprised to see you here, so far from your turf."


    Eleanor responded with grace.


    "Your Majesty tters me. I am but a junior, trying to follow in the footsteps of aplished seniors like yourself."


    Queen Pavi gave a soft nod and gestured toward a nearby marble table set with refreshments.


    "Please, have a seat, Miss Raynor. You as well, Miss Harivamsa. Let us enjoy some tea and snacks while we speak."


    All five of them... King Prabhas, Queen Pavi, Samantha, Rashmika, and Eleanor... settled around the shaded table. The area was serene, surrounded by lush greenery and the gentle sounds of the flowing Yamuna River nearby. The marble table gleamed under the filtered sunlight, and the scent of cardamom tea wafted through the air.


    Pavi gracefully lifted the teapot and poured tea into the delicate porcin cups set in front of everyone. Samantha followed suit, serving small portions of seasonal fruits and spiced snacks onto individual tes.


    Once everyone was served, Pavi smiled.


    "Please, help yourselves. We can discuss the purpose of your visit while we enjoy the tea."


    Prabhas echoed her sentiment.


    "Yes, let¡¯s talk over food."


    As they began nibbling on the snacks, Rashmika took the lead.


    "Miss Raynor recently purchased severalpanies in the Taramani region of Chennai. She hase to India this time seeking cooperation with the Harivamsa n. My grandmother specifically asked me to support her to the best of my abilities."


    She nced at the King before continuing.


    "Since Taramani falls within your jurisdiction, I thought it would be best if Miss Raynor and your n could establish a formal partnership."


    Prabhas folded his hands on the table, his expression calm but attentive.


    "I see. Could you tell me more about the kind of cooperation you¡¯re seeking?"


    This time, Eleanor straightened her posture slightly and answered directly.


    "I prefer to conduct business straightforwardly, so I hope you¡¯ll forgive any bluntness, Your Majesty."


    She paused, making sure they were following her tone and intent.


    "My team is fully capable of managing the sevenpanies I¡¯ve recently acquired. However, this is India... your territory. I never make the mistake of entering another supernatural region without acknowledging its rightful rulers. I don¡¯t care whether my partners are human, werewolf, or werehyena. In every region, I work alongside local powers. That¡¯s the foundation of my business ethics."


    There was a brief silence as she continued.


    "I¡¯m fully aware that working in India, especially in regions like Tamil Nadu, involves more than business acumen. The local socio-political frameworks, unpredictable bureaucracy, cultural nuances, and, most importantly, security concerns... these are not to be underestimated."


    She looked toward Prabhas with steady eyes.


    "I¡¯m requesting administrative support, ess to trusted security personnel, and assistance in securing favorable terms with local government bodies when necessary. In return, I propose to give five percent equity in all mypanies here to your n."


    She immediately rified,


    "Please understand, this isn¡¯t a token gesture. That five percent amounts to millions of dors. I currently hold seventy percent of the total shares in thesepanies... this offer is genuine and significant."


    Prabhas exhaled softly, realizing he had been holding his breath. He cleared his throat and replied,


    "Honestly, I¡¯m less concerned with the share percentage. Since your businesses fall within my domain, I have an obligation to supportwful and respectful enterprises. Just provide me with a detailed list of what you need, and I¡¯ll ensure it¡¯s taken care of."


    But Pavi interjected with a thoughtful smile.


    "Miss Raynor, of course, we ept your proposal. However, we would like to suggest one small condition."


    She paused for a moment before continuing.


    "We will not ept five percent ownership as a gift. We will invest the appropriate amount to purchase that stake at market value. In return, we would like you to allocate those shares to our daughter, Samantha, and appoint her as a director on thepany board."


    She quickly added,


    "Don¡¯t worry... she won¡¯t interfere with daily operations. But with her on the board, she¡¯ll serve as a liaison between you and our people, ensuringmunication remains smooth and mutually beneficial."


    Eleanor¡¯s sharp mind instantly understood the deeper implications.


    "Clever woman," she thought. "By cing her daughter on the board, the Queen ensures her region¡¯s interests are protected. If something threatens their domain, Samantha will see it before it bes a problem."


    Aloud, Eleanor replied,


    "I have no objection to that. But let me be clear... if Miss Nagavanshi proves to be a burden to operations, I¡¯ll ask for her removal. It¡¯s always better to have a difficult conversation at the beginning than to deal with frustration and misunderstandingster. That kind of tension can easily ruin business."


    Pavi¡¯s smile widened, clearly appreciating Eleanor¡¯s candid approach.


    "I respect your honesty. Then let¡¯s look forward to a prosperous and happy cooperation."


    Eleanor extended her hand, and Pavi shook it firmly.


    "Happy cooperation," Eleanor echoed.


    After further discussion on business structure, integration, and Samantha¡¯s formal role, Eleanor spent some time briefing Samantha on thepanies and expectations. Before departing, she introduced Samantha to Maya via a secure video call.


    "Maya is human," she exined, "and she¡¯ll be managing most of the day-to-day operations on-site. She¡¯s trustworthy, but you¡¯ll need to be cautious in matters of supernatural discretion."


    Once everything was sorted, Eleanor returned to the helipad. The helicopter carried her back to Agra Airport, where her private jet awaited. Within hours, she was en route to Manchester, flying across continents once again.


    ***


    Meanwhile, far away in the ancient temple of the werewolves, Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Priest of Werewolves... was in a deeply unsettled state after Eleanor¡¯s departure.


    She sat cross-legged in her meditation state, trying to calm her storming thoughts. The incense burned slowly beside her, but peace remained elusive. After several hours, she opened her eyes, resolved.


    "I¡¯ve wasted enough time worrying," she whispered to herself.


    "It¡¯s time to act."


    Without hesitation, Sarika went to the airport, took her private jet and flew toward Brontes Ind. She needed answers... answers only Erevan Brontes Lychos, the new King of Werewolves, could provide.


    ***


    Back in Manchester, life for Eleanor settled into a steady rhythm.


    In the mornings, after having breakfast together, she dropped Freya off at school, sharing small conversations andughs during their drive. She then headed to her office, managing her growing empire with focus and precision.


    In the afternoons, she picked Freya up and brought her home. On good days, they yed in the garden, or visited the park when the weather allowed. On quieter evenings, they stayed indoors, ying board games, reading books, or simply enjoying each other¡¯spany. Ethan was busy with his training, so he didn¡¯t joined the. These days.


    It was a life of bnce... of work and peace. And for now, Eleanor truly cherished it.


    Sometimes, Anastasiya Ivanova joined Eleanor and Freya during their afternoon outings. Despite only spending a few days together, Anastasiya had already formed a strong bond with Freya. Her cheerful and open personality easily captured the young girl¡¯s attention, and theirughter often echoed through the vi gardens or local parks.


    Though Anastasiya had initiallye to the Kingdom to learn the ropes of business from Eleanor, she spent most of her time exploring. This was her first time visiting the Kingdom, and the unique blend of magical serenity and natural beauty fascinated her. As a girl from Russia, she found the cool air of the Kingdom rather refreshing. In fact, to her, it felt more like a mild summer breeze than a chill... perfect weather for long walks and sightseeing.


    At first, Anastasiya had insisted on staying in a hotel to avoid imposing. However, Eleanor persuaded her to stay with Teresa temporarily at their Vi area. It didn¡¯t take long for her to settle in. Surrounded by Teresa, Cassandra, and La, Anastasiya quickly felt at home. The warmth andpanionship made her feel like part of the family, and now she had no Intention of moving to a hotel.


    Meanwhile, La Hasanovi?, the skilled swordswoman Eleanor had brought with her from Russia, had officially received her identity as a citizen of the Kingdom. ording to her new documents, she had Immigrated from a Scandinavian country over a decade ago under the name La Monroe. Officially, she had worked as a long-time security guard for the Raynor Estate.


    To integrate her more smoothly, Teresa appointed La as a roaming security officer around the vi sector. This served two purposes: helping her understand how the nc n¡¯s security system operated and keeping her protected while her new identity fully solidified.


    La had also met Freya, and the two got along surprisingly well. La asionally apanied the group during their afternoon visits to parks or other scenic areas, always keeping a protective but friendly watch.


    Back on the business front, Maya had returned from India after sessfully aligning the newly acquiredpanies there with Heimdall¡¯s strict operational standards. She appointed a capable supervisor from among the U.S.-trained space managers and left the Indian offices in good hands, without any lingering concerns.


    Although thepany was undergoing massive global expansion and work at headquarters was intense, things remained rtively peaceful. There were no major crises... just the daily grind of progress.


    The only one truly buried in work was Teresa. While Eleanor continued to purchasepanies as casually as one might collect souvenirs, Teresa was left managing over thirty newly acquired businesses. Though she had appointedpetent personnel to oversee them, aligning each enterprise with Heimdall¡¯s rigorous standards was a mammoth task. It required constant oversight and meticulous reporting.


    But Eleanor, blissfully unconcerned with the pressure she had offloaded, was content. She happily spent her precious peaceful days with her daughter, embracing a rhythm of life she rarely had the luxury to enjoy.

 Chapter 132: Lunargarde, The Coliseum

    <h4>Chapter 132: Lunargarde, The Coliseum</h4>


    Sheer cliffs rose like ancient sentinels on either side of the valley, their granite faces weathered by time and etched with the marks of countless centuries. The wind whispered secrets through crevices and cracks, carrying the echoes of old songs long forgotten. Cascading waterfalls... Staubbach, Tr¨¹mmelbach, and several nameless others... thundered down the cliff faces, sending silver ribbons of water plunging into the emerald depths of the valley. Their constant roar drowned out all other sounds, forming a natural curtain that concealed the sacredness of whaty hidden here.


    A narrow, forgotten path twisted through the dense pine forest, winding over gnarled roots and under low-hanging branches. The air was crisp, tinged with the scent of damp moss, blooming wildflowers, and ancient stone. Edelweiss and alpine roses clung to rocky ledges with quiet defiance, blooming in ces untouched by human hands.


    Then, as if stepping into a forgotten tale, one would see it... hidden behind the veil of a waterfall, an ancient stone arch revealed itself. Vines clung to its surface like skeletal fingers, and faintly glowing runes etched into the stone shimmered under the moonlight. The arch wasn¡¯t merely constructed... it was carved over a long time and protected by the Moon goddess, revealing itself only to the werewolves destined to pass through.


    Beyond this veily a vast alpine meadow, lush and eerily quiet, ringed by towering fir trees that guarded the secret within. Snow-capped peaks stood in the distance, silent watchers that had seen countless duels unfold here under their gaze. asionally, the sharp cry of an eagle pierced the sky... either a warning, or a witness.


    And there it stood... Lunargarde. To the unknowing eye, just another hollow in the mountain cliffs. But to the werewolf ns, this was sacred ground. The final sanctuary of tradition, where honor was earned in blood and sweat beneath the moon¡¯s solemn gaze.


    Nestled deep within Lauterbrunnen Valley, hidden behind nature¡¯s most breathtaking illusions, the werewolves¡¯ sacred coliseum waited.


    Lunargarde, the Coliseum blessed by the Moon. The dueling ground of the werewolves. Located in Lauterbrunnen Valley, Bernese Obend, Swiss Alps.


    Inside the stone coliseum, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation and ancestral power. Ten thousand stone-carved seats spiraled upward in perfect concentric rings, surrounding the sunken duel pits at the center like the ribs of a sleeping beast. Each seat was marked with the symbols of the ns that had once fought and bled here, names now spoken with reverence.


    Above them, the sky opened like a divine eye... an irregr, jagged hole in the rocky ceiling, formed naturally over millennia. Through it, the moonlight poured like silver rain, illuminating the heart of the arena in a cold, pale glow. The silence it cast wasn¡¯t empty... it was heavy, filled with the weight of what was toe.


    The spectators were far from ordinary. Most were young werewolves, their eyes wide as they witnessed the sacred duel grounds for the first time. But among them were also veterans... n elders, family council members, and battle-hardened warriors who had shed blood under this very sky. Today wasn¡¯t just about entertainment; it was about evaluation. The strength of the new generation was under the lens of the old.


    This particr duel had drawn more attention than usual. It was rare for the members of the Ten Great ns to settle disputes in the old way... through singlebat. And rarer still for the Raynor n, reclusive and powerful, to allow one of their own to fight in such a public setting. Everyone was eager to see what the legendary n had to offer.


    "There¡¯s still no sign of the Raynors," someone whispered among the crowd, their voiceced with curiosity and judgment. "Do you think they¡¯ve changed their minds?"


    "No," another replied. "Didn¡¯t you hear? They said only Ethan Raynor will being. The rest of the n has ¡¯more important matters¡¯ to attend to."


    "How arrogant," scoffed the first voice. "Even if they believe in their fighter¡¯s victory, they could at least show support. What if Ethan Raynor loses?"


    Another chimed in, "That¡¯s entirely possible. Ethan Raynor isn¡¯t a warrior. He¡¯s a businessman. Sure, he was born an Alpha, but he hasn¡¯t even awakened his bloodline."


    "And Lucian Greymoore?" someone asked.


    "Lucian is the Young Master of the Greymoore n," the speaker said with admiration. "He¡¯s already awakened. He¡¯s next in line for the n head. He¡¯s strong, trained all his life, and lives for battle. It¡¯s obvious who¡¯s going to win."


    "Then why is Ethan Raynor fighting at all?" another asked in disbelief. "Surely the Raynor n could send someone else."


    "They couldn¡¯t," came the grim response. "The rules of the duel state that recements must be within ten years of the main fighter¡¯s age. The only person who qualifies is the Raynor heiress. And from what I¡¯ve heard, she¡¯s terrifyingly powerful. They won¡¯t reveal her strength just for a minor dispute like this. So Ethan had no choice."


    "What a setup," murmured another. "Lucian challenged him over a business disagreement, knowing full well he had the advantage. This whole duel is just a trap to humiliate the Raynor name."


    "Yes," said another bitterly. "And look at them." He gestured toward one of the terraces where over a hundred Greymoores sat proudly, d in matching uniforms, someughing, others whispering confidently.


    "They know they¡¯ve already won. They came here to celebrate."


    "In that case, why did I evene?" groaned a younger werewolf. "I left behind a million-dor contract just to witness a rigged duel?"


    "Don¡¯t give up hope yet," someone else said gently. "I also realized the situation only after arriving. But I¡¯m curious. If Ethan Raynor is truly a member of the Ten Great ns, he must have some strength, right? Even if he isn¡¯t trained, maybe there¡¯s something more to him."


    "Damn the Greymoores," someone suddenly shouted. "Let¡¯s support Ethan Raynor! Even if he¡¯s not a fighter, he deserves respect for showing up!"


    "Yes! Let¡¯s back him up! If we cheer him on, maybe his spirit will rise and we¡¯ll get to witness at least a decent fight."


    "Let¡¯s support Ethan!" whispers began to spread over whole coliseum.


    From a few voices, the support spread like wildfire. The lower ns, often bullied or ignored by the powerful ns, resonated with the underdog. They didn¡¯t care about Ethan¡¯s business background or bloodline. All they saw was a man walking into what looked like a trap... and they admired him for it.


    Unbeknownst to most of them, this groundswell of support was no ident. It was Fiona Elizabeth Raynor¡¯s n all along.


    The first voices in the crowd, the ones who subtly turned the tide of opinion, were nted by her. Whisperers, seeded into the audience just after they arrived, slowly shifted the perception of the duel. From what appeared to be a certain humiliation, it had transformed into a narrative of silent courage and unjust challenge.


    Soon, the mood of the coliseum turned. The spectators weren¡¯t just here to see a fight. They were rooting for an upset, for a miracle, for justice in an unjust arena.


    And as the moon crept higher above the open ceiling, its glow sharpening against the stone, the duel was about to begin.


    At that moment, a figure emerged from the grand arched gate leading into the VIP section. Instantly, silence swept across the crowd like a tide. It was Matthias Halden Graventhal, the Arbiter of the werewolves and the respected head of n Graventhal of Switzend.


    His tall and Imposing figure was draped in a silver-threaded ceremonial coat, the fabric gleaming faintly under the moonlight. Upon his chest was the insignia of his house... a pair of bnced scales atop the silhouette of a howling wolf, symbolizing both justice and primal strength. His thick silver hair was swept back neatly, resembling the crest of a cier, and his eyes.. cold, piercing alpine blue... scanned the vast coliseum with a gaze so intense that those who met it feltid bare, as though their very intentions had been examined.


    A single ring glinted on his hand... an heirloom forged from steel mined deep within the heart of the Swiss Alps, passed down through generations of Arbiters, each chosen for their unwavering sense of neutrality.


    As the mediator of inter-n affairs, and the voice of the lesser packs, Matthias was widely respected across the werewolf world. His judgments were known to be fair and without bias, and his presence in any conflict brought a sense of calm, a promise that bnce would be upheld. His poprity stemmed not from charisma or showmanship, but from the irond integrity that clung to every word he spoke.


    Behind him followed several other key members of the Werewolf Council. Among them were three towering figures, each exuding immense authority: Sten Ragnar Fenroth, the Warlord of the werewolves; Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Priest of the werewolves; Lucien Marceau Valemont, the Treasurer of the werewolves council.


    Several other prominent n heads followed them, each taking their seats in the exclusive VIP section, their eyes focused on the duel pit below.


    Matthias stepped forward to the podium built from alpine marble and took a breath. His voice, though soft and low, rolled through the coliseum with uncanny reach and power... clearly aided by subtle werewolf enchantments.


    "Thank you for gathering here today to witness this sacred duel between Ethan Raynor and Lucian Greymoore," he said, his tone solemn. "As Arbiter and host of this ancient rite, I wee all werewolf ns to Lunargarde. Let us honor this tradition with dignity, and may the Goddess bless the victor with strength and rity."

 Chapter 133: An Offer You Can’t Refuse

    <h4>Chapter 133: An Offer You Can¡¯t Refuse</h4>


    With a short but weighty speech, Matthias Halden Graventhal, the Arbiter of the werewolves, instantlymanded the attention of everyone present in the coliseum. Though his tone was measured and formal, each word carried immense authority and reverence. His voice didn¡¯t need to rise above a steady pitch; it simply rippled through the crowd like an unseen force, bringing the chaos to a respectful stillness.


    There were no cheers, no ps... only silence. A shared silence that bore the weight of tradition, power, and sacred expectation, as well as admiration.


    After finishing his address, Matthias bowed slightly to the audience as a mark of mutual respect and stepped down from the podium. He walked with solemn grace to his seat among the other council members, where the remaining high-ranking werewolf leaders sat in quiet anticipation.


    Momentster, the silence was broken by a booming voice that echoed across the coliseum like a sudden thunderp.


    "The Arbiter has spoken," the voice dered. "Now let the challengemence!"


    It was the event announcer, a member of n Graventhal himself, though he remained unnamed and unseen. His voice alone was enough to shape the tone of the ceremony. Deep,manding, and precise... it was a voice carved for coliseums and battlefields.


    "Now presenting, Lucian Greymoore of the Greymoore n!"


    A roar of apuse and wild howls erupted from the upper eastern gallery, where the Greymoore n proudly stood in unified support. Over a hundred members of the n leaped to their feet, waving, pping, and shouting Lucian¡¯s name.


    Lucian Greymoore strode into the arena like a conquering prince. His walk was confident, each step purposeful. Dressed in a sleeveless ckbat tunic with the Greymoore crest emzoned across his chest, he looked every bit the prodigious young alpha warrior he was hailed to be. His golden-brown hair was slicked back, revealing a face full of youthful pride and barely restrained arrogance. His muscr frame moved with a panther¡¯s grace, and his fire-lit amber eyes scanned the crowd like a predator surveying his domain.


    He raised one arm and waved proudly to his supporters, smirking as their cheers grew louder. He acted as though victory was already his. He acknowledged the crowd, basking in their admiration, and then turned toward the central circle of the arena.


    Just as he lowered his hand, the announcer¡¯s voice rang out again:


    "Now presenting, Ethan Raynor of the Raynor n!"


    The cheers diminished into a murmur of curiosity. Everyone leaned forward to catch a glimpse.


    Ethan Raynor emerged slowly from a shadowed corridor beneath the galleries. His pace was calm, almost casual. He wore a simple ck robe, the hood pulled low over his face so that only the lower half of his jaw and chin were visible. His appearance was starkly different from Lucian¡¯s; there were no ornate crests, no visible muscles or intimidating posture. Just a quiet man in ck, walking into the moonlight.


    He did not exude the aura of a warrior. If anything, he looked like a mild-mannered schr or a corporate analyst. Slim and toned, but not powerfully built, Ethan¡¯s demeanor made him seem entirely unfit for a sacred werewolf duel. The murmurs turned into puzzled nces. Some even chuckled.


    He looked like a tourist who had wandered into the wrong ce.


    But that impression didn¡¯tst long.


    No one could say exactly who started it, but a single voice from somewhere in the southern galleries shouted, "Ethan!"


    Then another voice joined in. Then another. And soon, the entire southern and western galleries erupted into a chant.


    "Ethan! Ethan!! Ethan!!!"


    The voices grew louder, wave upon wave, echoing throughout the stone coliseum. The chorus of support grew so powerful that even those who had doubted him earlier began to cheer.


    Lucian, stunned, nced around in disbelief. His smirk faltered.


    The entire Greymoore n looked bewildered. They hadn¡¯t expected this. For a so-called underdog to garner this level of support was more than surprising... it was unsettling.


    For the first time, Lucian felt a seed of doubt take root in his mind. It was small, but it was there. And it would grow, inevitably.


    The announcer¡¯s voice returned, now with a tone of finality.


    "The rules of the Holy Duel are as follows: You must rely solely on yourself and your powers. No external interference is permitted. ns are permitted to send a representative in ce of the challenger, but the recement must not exceed an age gap of ten years."


    The crowd listened In respectful silence. The time for spectacle had passed. Now it was time for fate to unfold.


    ***


    Ladbroke Estate, Notting Hill, London.


    In the heart of Notting Hill stood a majestic detached mansion... an architectural jewel of the 19th century. It was a double-fronted home built in the ssic Italianate style, its white sto fa?ade adorned with finely sculpted cornices and tall sash windows. The grandeur of the structure spoke of an era long past, yet its presence was timeless.


    Behind the house stretched one of Notting Hill¡¯s exclusivemunal gardens, enclosed and serene... a green oasis known only to a select few. From the upper windows, one could see the neat lines of hedges and flowerbeds, a private paradise reserved for the elite residents of the Ladbroke Estate.


    Inside, the mansion¡¯s rooms soared with high ceilings and heavy crown moldings. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen waterfalls of crystal. Large windows flooded the rooms with sunlight in daytime, illuminating every detail... the mahogany furniture, the antique carpets, the paintings that had witnessed generations pass.


    This was the grand home that Baron John Constantine of Notting Hill inherited from his ancestors.


    Chairman of the Opposition Party Board and a man of logic, Constantine rarely gave in to irrational thoughts. But today was different.


    Three omens had crossed his path since morning.


    First, a single magpie hadnded on his garden fence just after breakfast. Then, while walking through his study corridor, he had identally broken a mirror at noon. And just a few minutes ago, during dinner, he had knocked over the salt pot, spilling salt across the table.


    At first, he dismissed the events. But after the third omen, his mind involuntarily connected the dots. Pagan blood ran through his veins, and though he called himself a modern man, now his old instincts had resurfaced.


    His stomach churned with dread. A deep, inexplicable fear gnawed at him. Something wasing, something terrible and he felt it.


    To clear his mind, he retreated to his study... his sanctuary.


    He sat down in the leather chair by his mahogany desk and closed his eyes, trying to breathe slowly and center himself.


    That¡¯s when he heard a unknown deep voice of a man in front of him.


    "Mr. John Constantine. Please open your eyes and look at the file in front of you."


    His eyes snapped open.


    Sitting across from him was a man covered entirely in ck. The figure was calm, seated, almost elegant in posture. And in front of John, where moments ago there had been nothing, nowy a single ck file.


    His heart pounded in his chest. He opened his mouth to shout, but years of political discipline held him back. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and studied the figure.


    "What... Who are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. It trembled slightly despite his efforts.


    The man In ck did not answer. Instead, he gestured slightly to the file on the table.


    The man in ck did not speak. Instead, he made a small gesture with his gloved hand, pointing toward the ck file resting on the table.


    John Constantine hesitated for a moment, then reached forward with slightly trembling hands. He opened the file, and his eyes instantly locked onto the contents. A wave of dread washed over him as he began to read.


    He flipped through the pages hurriedly, his breath growing shallow. Each sheet revealed a newyer of his darkest secrets... meticulously documented, neatly printed, impossible to deny. Offshore bank transactions. Shellpany transfers. Unexined assets. The moneyundering trail was mapped out in horrifying rity.


    Then came the photographs.


    Indecent photos of him and his secretary... images he didn¡¯t even know existed. Candid, damning, and potentially career-ending.


    His fingers froze. The hair on the back of his neck bristled. A cold sweat broke out along his temples. He turned another page. Then another. Each document tightened the noose a little more.


    When he finally reached the end, he closed the file with slow, deliberate care. He leaned back into his chair and shut his eyes again, trying to collect his thoughts. But it was no use. The calm he sought wouldn¡¯t return.


    He opened his eyes and looked at the man in ck, whose expression remained unchanged... cold,posed, unreadable.


    "Who are you?" John asked, his voice low and shaky. "Why are you doing this?"


    The man finally lifted his chin, revealing eyes that gleamed with quiet authority.


    "We have no intention of harming you," he said, his voice smooth and unwavering. "As long as you follow our instructions, we will protect you. You¡¯ll retain your power, your influence... and your life."


    There was a long pause before he added, "This is an offer you can¡¯t refuse."

 Chapter 134: Before Midnight

    <h4>Chapter 134: Before Midnight</h4>


    After a long and exhausting day spent on public service and political duties, Baroness Ang Dodson of Kesteven finally returned to her estate. The moment she stepped inside, she kicked off her heels with a tired sigh. The weight of responsibility had settled deep into her bones. She headed straight to the bath.


    Steam curled around her curvy figure she maintained despite her age as she soaked in the scented water, letting the heat seep into her muscles. It was an alluring scene for any man to turn hard. When she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a luxurious white bathrobe and with her damp hair tied loosely, she felt a measure offort returning to her body.


    However, the peace was short-lived.


    As she entered her bedroom, her breath caught in her throat.


    A woman sat silently on her bedside rocking chair, entirely cloaked in ck. Her face was partially hidden beneath a veil, her presence so sudden and unsettling that it sent a jolt of fear up Ang¡¯s spine.


    She hadn¡¯t heard a door open. No rms had been triggered. No warnings had reached her from her trained security team stationed at every entrance.


    Ang instinctively nced toward the discreet panic button beneath her bedside table, but before she could make a move, the woman spoke in a calm and measured voice.


    "Lady Ang Dodson of Kesteven, Co-Chairman of the Opposition Party. Am I speaking to the right person?"


    Ang¡¯s mind raced. Whoever this woman was, she had bypassed a security system run by former military professionals. That alone told her this was no ordinary intruder.


    Choosing diplomacy over confrontation, she answered cautiously, "Yes, I am Ang. May I know who you are and why you¡¯ve broken into my private quarters?"


    The woman gave a faint shrug. "Forgive the intrusion. But it was the only way to ensure your dignity remains intact."


    Ang frowned. "I don¡¯t understand. Have I wronged you somehow?"


    The woman shook her head. "Not at all. In fact, I knew nothing of you before today. I am simply delivering a message on behalf of my employer."


    Without another word, she held up a mobile phone and tilted it toward Ang, ying a video without hesitation.


    Ang¡¯s face drained of color.


    On the screen was clear footage of her and her driver... engaged in an intimate act. The camera angle suggested a hidden device... one nted with precision. Her cheeks flushed crimson with humiliation, and she instinctively looked away.


    "How... How did you get this?" she asked, her voice trembling.


    The woman replied coolly, "How we obtained it is irrelevant. What matters is that you now understand why I¡¯m here."


    Ang sank onto the edge of her bed, her confidence unraveling with every second.


    She remained silent for several moments, hands clenched in herp.


    Finally, she looked up and whispered, "What do you want from me?"


    "Very little," said the woman. "All we ask is your cooperation. Follow our instructions when the timees, and we¡¯ll ensure your name and legacy remain untainted."


    "And if I refuse?" Ang asked, though the answer was already evident in her mind.


    "You may choose between disgrace and irrelevance," the woman said. "Or worse... death or prison."


    Ang took a sharp breath. "I haven¡¯tmitted any crimes by having a rtionship with my driver. The worst that could happen is losing my parliamentary seat."


    The woman nodded with a faint smile. "Then perhaps this will change your mind."


    She reached into her jacket and pulled out a ck folder, which she ced gently on the bed beside Ang.


    "Please," she said, "read it carefully."


    With shaky hands, Ang opened the folder. Her eyes scanned the contents. Page after page revealed sensitive financial records... undisclosed assets, anonymous offshore ounts, and internal memos showing shady financial dealings she thought were long buried. Her heart pounded in her chest.


    "How... how did you get these?" she gasped.


    "Your assistant is far too careless," the woman replied with mild amusement. "If you ever need help managing your illegal assets more securely, contact us. We protect what belongs to our own."


    Ang closed the folder slowly and stared at it with haunted eyes. Then, reluctantly, she nodded. "I agree. I¡¯ll do whatever you ask. Just... don¡¯t ruin me."


    The woman stood. "A wise choice. You¡¯re valuable, Lady Dodson. As long as you remain useful, we¡¯ll keep you protected."


    She pulled a small pen drive from her pocket and handed it to Ang.


    "A gift," she said. "Inside are incriminating documents against your political rival. Use them in the next election campaign. We trust you¡¯ll know how to make the most of it."


    Ang epted the device in silence, her fingers trembling as she clutched it tightly.


    ***


    Meanwhile, elsewhere in London...


    Baron Ernest Prentice of Hampton, the Chairman of the National Convention of the Opposition Party, had just exited a reunion party with his old college friends. He was tipsy, humming to himself and walking with a nostalgic smile on his face. The alcohol warmed him, but not enough to dull his sense of direction.


    He reached his parked car and slid into the backseat. The driver silently started the engine.


    "Let¡¯s go home," Ernest said casually.


    The car moved forward smoothly. Ernest leaned back, content. He was in high spirits after reconnecting with old friends. The world outside passed in a blur, but something gnawed at the back of his mind.


    The silence was... unnatural.


    "Hey," he said, "y my favorite song, will you? That Enigma track... ¡¯Silence Must Be Heard.¡¯"


    Momentster, the opening notes of the haunting melody filled the car. He closed his eyes and began singing softly under his breath:


    "Look into the others eyes, many frustrations


    Read between the lines, no words just vibrations


    Don¡¯t ignore hidden desires


    Pay attention, you¡¯re ying with fire


    Silence must be heard, noise should be observed


    The time hase to learn, that silence


    Silence must be heard


    Or diamonds will burn, friendly cards will turn


    Cause silence has the right to be heard


    People talk too much for what they have to say


    Words without a meaning, just fading away


    Silence must be heard, noise should be observed


    The time hase to learn, that silence


    Silence must be heard


    Or diamonds will burn, friendly cards will turn


    Cause silence has the right to be heard..."


    But as the final verse faded away, a strange unease settled in his gut.


    He opened his eyes and looked out the window.


    The scenery had changed. The familiar lights of London were gone. In their ce were tall, shadowed trees and an empty dirt path. His car was parked deep in a wooded area. Panic flickered through him. Something was wrong.


    He turned sharply to look at the driver... and froze.


    The man¡¯s face waspletely covered in ck. Every inch of him was d in the same dark fabric.


    "Who are you?" Ernest asked, voice tight with rm.


    The man turned his head calmly. "Ah, finally awake."


    He reached over and switched on the car¡¯s overhead light, then handed Ernest a ck folder.


    "Before we speak," he said, "you should take a look at this."


    With trembling hands, Ernest opened the folder. He didn¡¯t even make it past the second page before the cold sweat began to form on his forehead.


    There it was... his hidden bank ounts, records of bribes, photos of illicit meetings, even screenshots of emails and surveince footage. Every piece of dirt that could destroy him in an instant.


    His intoxication vanished in a sh. He was stone-cold sober now. He looked up at the faceless figure behind the wheel in a panic.


    After his panic began to subside, Baron Ernest Prentice let out a long, helpless sigh. The tension in his shoulders remained, but his voice was steady... at least on the surface.


    "What do you want from me?" he asked hoarsely.


    "I like smart men," the driver said with a chuckle. "Nothing tooplicated. Just follow our instructions when the timees. That¡¯s all."


    Ernest clenched his jaw, thinking through the implications. "Very well," he said finally. "But I have one condition. Please... don¡¯t make me do anything that will harm my country."


    The driverughed, the sound echoing chillingly in the stillness of the car. "You may be a corrupt politician, Baron, but you¡¯re a patriotic one. That¡¯s rare these days. I respect that." He nodded approvingly. "For that reason... and because you¡¯re now one of us... I have a little gift for you."


    He reached into the glovepartment and pulled out another ck folder. With a smirk beneath the mask, he handed it to Ernest.


    Curious but cautious, Ernest opened it... only for his eyes to widen in fury.


    Inside were high-resolution photographs, vivid and undeniable. His wife and his driver was having passionate sex together.


    He exploded in rage. "That bastard! I¡¯ll kill him! Where is he?!"


    The driver calmly crossed his arms and said, "No need to worry. Your driver is with the gods now. May his soul rest in peace."


    Ernest froze. "What?" he gasped, nearly choking on his own breath.


    "I figured you¡¯d react this way," the masked man said, his tone eerily casual. "So I did you a favor. I took care of him in advance."


    He gestured toward a copper jar ced on the dashboard. "His body is no longer your problem. Only his ashes remain. Consider it closure."


    Ernest stared at the jar in stunned silence, unable to process the surreal horror of what he had just heard.

 Chapter 135: After Midnight

    <h4>Chapter 135: After Midnight</h4>


    Lunargarde, Lauterbrunnen Valley, Bernese Obend, Swiss Alps.


    In the coliseum, under the watchful eye of a Graventhal n elder acting as referee, the long-anticipated fight between Ethan Raynor and Lucian Greymoore finally began.


    Lucian didn¡¯t waste a second on formalities. The moment the referee dered the start of the match, heunched his attack without hesitation.


    He stomped on the ground with such force that the audience heard a resounding boom. The arena floor cracked beneath his feet like shattered ss, the fractures racing outward toward Ethan. Suddenly, a cluster of stone spikes erupted beneath Ethan¡¯s position.


    The crowd gasped.


    "Such an attack right at the start! Lucian is dead serious."


    "Earth spike attacks aremon, but look... he forged them from solid stone! That¡¯s much harder to defend against."


    "Look at his speed! I bet Ethan¡¯s going to be dead meat by the end of this."


    "Don¡¯t talk... look! Ethan dodged it!"


    Ethan sidestepped with surgical elegance at thest possible moment. He weaved back and forth, evading the iing assault. Lucian had alreadyunched a barrage of broken concrete shards, hurling them at super speed.


    They came so fast and in such overwhelming numbers that, despite his evasive maneuvers, Ethan had to take a few of the smaller shards head-on. When dodging became nearly impossible, he leapt into the air with such grace it looked as though he were floating.


    But it worked. He sessfully dodged all the shards as they whooshed past beneath his feet. However, in the process, his hood was lifted, revealing an astonishingly beautiful face.


    The girls in the galleries erupted in cheers... some even whistled. In stark contrast to Lucian¡¯s arrogant expression, Ethan looked like an angel descended into battle.


    He stared at Lucian, his eyes calm and distant, as though he wasn¡¯t a participant in the fight but an observer watching from a bird¡¯s-eye view.


    Lucian, frustrated by theck of reaction, shouted in annoyance, "Fight me, coward!"


    Lucian waved his hands aggressively and formed a hand sign. This time, a wave of earth arrows shot out in a wide arc. They erupted in chaotic patterns, designed to break rhythm and confuse the senses. The arrows surged toward Ethan, who was still descending from his earlier jump.


    Ethan didn¡¯t flinch. His eyes narrowed, quickly triangting each point of threat. In the span of a breath, he weaved through the iing barrage... his movements clean, fluid, and almostzy, as if he were simply strolling through falling raindrops.


    The audience was stunned by Ethan¡¯s disy of precise movement. A wave of murmurs spread through the stands.


    "What is Ethan¡¯s ability?"


    "I¡¯m not sure, but I heard the Raynor n has business-rted abilities."


    "Business-rted? How does that qualify them as one of the Ten Great ns?"


    "Oh, you must not know about their bloodline. I¡¯ve heard that those who awaken it be monsters... capable of defeating an army of a thousand soldiers alone."


    "But Ethan hasn¡¯t awakened the bloodline, right?"


    "Yeah, that¡¯s what I heard too. It¡¯s rare. Only the n Head and the Young Miss have managed to awaken it."


    "So Ethan isn¡¯t awakened, but Lucian is... and he¡¯s using his n¡¯s earth ability?"


    "Seems like it."


    "Then how is Ethan dodging all of Lucian¡¯s attacks and still unharmed?"


    "He must have some kind of ability. Maybe super speed... or future vision? Otherwise, dodging Lucian¡¯s attacks would be impossible. Just look at the speed of those earth bullets!"


    The others turned their attention back to the fight below. Lucian had lifted arge mass of stone from the ground and was now firing earth bullets at Ethan in rapid session. Ethan stayed in constant motion, gracefully dodging the barrage.


    Lucian cursed loudly and ramped up the intensity of his attack. But Ethan ignored the taunts, his focus unwavering as he continued weaving through the onught.


    Still, even with his precise calctions and abnormal speed, he couldn¡¯t dodge everything. A few of the bullets found their mark. His robe was riddled with holes, but thanks to his strong Alpha physique, the damage was minimal.


    ***


    The entire upper echelon of the Kingdom¡¯s opposition party was thrown into turmoil. Just minutes earlier, Baron John Constantine of Notting Hill, Chairman of the Opposition Party Board, had called an emergency online meeting for the party¡¯s leadership.


    A meeting at thiste hour was unusual, but after two co-chairmen sent urgent messages in the group chat urging everyone to attend, the members quickly grew alert and logged in. Eventually, more than thirty members joined the session.


    But after hearing the party chairman¡¯s introductory speech, their blood ran cold.


    ording to him, Oliver Brown, MP of Stockport, had been investigated by government agencies, and it was concluded that he was involved in a robbery at the National Museum as well as connected to a drug cartel.


    One of the party supporters, who was also a rtive of Baron John Constantine, had been investigating the robbery of several art pieces from the National Museum. The investigation eventually led to Oliver Brown. To locate the stolen items, they nted a spy in Oliver¡¯s house and discovered that the art pieces were indeed stored there. However, during the investigation, they also uncovered his involvement with a drug cartel. Tomorrow, the authorities are expected to submit their report and issue a search and arrest warrant for Oliver Brown.


    Because of the sensitive nature of the case... and the fact that Oliver is a member of their party... this scandal would undoubtedly damage their reputation. The ruling party would surely use it against them in the uing election. Toplicate matters, the investigating officer offered the party a choice: toe forward as whistleblowers and potentially benefit from the situation. The officer informed the chairman about the location of the stolen art pieces, as well as several hidden ounts tied to Oliver Brown and the drug cartel. Now, the chairman wants to discuss the matter with party members before making a decision.


    While everyone absorbed the news in silence, and some connected to Oliver Brown began to panic, Baroness Ang Dodson of Kesteven, Co-Chairman of the Opposition Party, spoke up.


    "We have no choice in this matter. We¡¯ve been in opposition for ten years. If one of our MPs is arrested for these crimes, we could be stuck in opposition for another decade. But if we y our cards right, we can turn this situation to our advantage. We must inform the authorities about Oliver Brown and show that we put the interests of the Kingdom and its people above party loyalty."


    "I agree with that. It might be our best chance to gain power in the next election if we y our cards right," said Baron Ernest Prentice of Hampton, Chairman of the National Convention of the Opposition Party.


    He continued, "This time, we have an advantage. We can inform the authorities first, then send our supporter journalists to Oliver¡¯s home to report on the situation. That way, the nation will see our involvement in a positive light. But before that, we need to remove Oliver Brown from all party positions temporarily. This will allow us to publicly show our zero tolerance on the matter during the report. Once the police find concrete evidence against him, we can make the ban permanent in a follow-up meeting. Meanwhile, we should send our MPs and intellectuals to appear on TV and radio while the police conduct their search. We must control the media narrative."


    "I agree with that," one member said.


    "Me too," added another.


    Soon, nearly all members present agreed to inform the police and other relevant authorities.


    During this time, those connected to Oliver Brown tried repeatedly to call him about the situation but to no avail... his phone was switched off. They even contacted his secretary, but met the same silence. Panic set in, and they decided to send their men to Oliver¡¯s house as soon as the meeting ended, hoping to reach him before the police did.


    The Party Chairman took responsibility for informing the authorities, while the others divided up the remaining tasks among themselves. They also agreed to hold another meeting once the police hadpleted their operation.


    After the meeting ended, Baron John Constantine acted quickly. He had already prepared a formal document to be sent to the relevant authorities. He began emailing the document along with Oliver Brown¡¯s expulsion letter from all party positions. Both documents were signed and stamped by him.


    Soon, the National Crime Agency (NCA), the Chief Constable of Greater Manchester Police (GMP), the Serious Fraud Office (SFO), and the Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards received emails from the official party domain. After reading the contents, they were shocked and immediatelyunched actions against Oliver Brown.


    Within half an hour, police cordoned off the area around Oliver¡¯s home to prevent any attempt to escape, while a search team entered the premises to look for evidence. Thanks to precise information about an underground vault, they discovered it filled with stolen antiques and valuable art pieces.


    While the police carried out their duties, other authorities acted swiftly as well. All bank ounts linked to Oliver were frozen and ced under investigation. Businesses owned by the Brown family were raided by relevant agencies, uncovering a range of vitions including tax evasion, environmental damage, and unsafe working conditions. Nearly all of their businesses were sealed until further notice, and the most powerful family in Stockport was brought to its knees in a single night.

 Chapter 136: The Stockport Scandal

    <h4>Chapter 136: The Stockport Scandal</h4>


    All major news channels suddenly cancelled their scheduledte-night programs and switched to live coverage from Stockport. Initially, they had been cautious after receiving a tip-off... shockingly, from within the opposition party... about potential criminal activities involving one of their own MPs, Oliver Brown. Only a fewworks sent news crews to the area around Oliver Brown¡¯s house, choosing a wait-and-see approach rather than breaking the story prematurely.


    That changed rapidly.


    Arge police convoy unexpectedly arrived at Oliver Brown¡¯s residence and cordoned off the entire area. Floodlights were switched on, armed officers formed a perimeter, and forensic teams moved in. That was all the confirmation the media needed. Almost every major outlet went live at once.


    Within minutes, newsrooms across the country received a press release from the Chairman of the Opposition Party. The statement confirmed that Oliver Brown had been temporarily removed from all party positions. Whether he would be permanently expelled would be decided after a full investigation. The timing of the statement was deliberate, designed to align perfectly with the start of the police operation.


    Inside the house, police discovered a shocking amount of evidence. A vast collection of stolen antiques... pieces presumed lost from the National Museum was hidden in a concealed underground vault. Alongside the artifacts, officers found significant quantities of illegal drugs, bundles of cash in multiple currencies, and a treasure trove of financial records that hinted at a broader criminalwork.


    As the Financial Crimes Division began verifying the documents, the Chief Superintendent of Greater Manchester Police¡¯s Stockport Division stepped outside the cordon to address the press. Standing before the shing cameras and shouting reporters, he delivered a preliminary briefing:


    "Yes, the tip-off hade directly from the opposition party."


    " Yes, they had found damning evidence."


    "And yes, the investigation was now being escted to national authorities."


    The announcement sent a ripple of shock through the political world. Within minutes, phones began to ring across the Kingdom¡¯s political elite. Government officials scrambled to understand why the opposition party would turn on one of their own so decisively... and publicly.


    The answer came quickly.


    Following the police statement, senior opposition leaders began appearing on multiple news channels. Calm and collected, they exined that internal suspicions had prompted a discreet investigation into Oliver Brown¡¯s activities. When their findings became undeniable, they had chosen to cooperate withw enforcement rather than protect a criminal.


    Their narrative was clear: "The party valued the integrity of the Kingdom above all else, even above political unity."


    The public reaction was swift. The opposition party¡¯s approval ratings skyrocketed as people saw what appeared to be a rare instance of political ountability. Analysts began speaking of a "historic moment" and praised the party¡¯s transparency.


    But not everyone was feeling patriotic.


    Inside the homes of those connected to Oliver Brown... politicians, bureaucrats, and businessmen... the atmosphere was one of fear and panic. Many had done business with him, directly or indirectly, and now found themselves at risk of exposure. Desperate calls were made, but none reached Oliver. He and his secretary had vanished without a trace.


    An hour after the initial police statement, the Chief Superintendent returned for a second briefing. His tone was more serious now.


    He confirmed that Oliver Brown was suspected of being part of a nationwide criminal syndicate. In addition to the museum heist and drug trafficking, evidence of moneyundering and tax evasion had been discovered. Surveince footage from the surrounding area had been tampered with, strongly suggesting that Oliver had fled in advance.


    All house staff were taken into protective custody for questioning. The Chief Superintendent announced that the local investigation had concluded and that the case would now be handled by the National Crime Agency (NCA), in coboration with the Cyber Crimes and Financial Crimes divisions.


    Just as the police concluded their field operation, a rtively unknown news channel dropped a bombshell.


    iming to have "exclusive insider information," they released a scrolling list of fifty names allegedly linked to what was now being dubbed "The Stockport Scandal." The list included politicians, high-ranking civil servants, corporate executives, and other public figures. Although most of the politicians were from the opposition party, several from the ruling party were named too. Among the most shocking names were the current Leader of the Opposition and a handful of sitting ministers.


    Even members of the opposition party not directly involved in the investigation were caught off guard. Phones rang nonstop as party members demanded answers and next steps. But those already briefed by the shadow team remainedposed.


    The party Chairman immediately requested an official list of suspects from Greater Manchester Police. The request was granted without hesitation, given the party¡¯s role in initiating the investigation.


    Shortly afterward, the opposition party convened another online meeting and took unprecedented action. Every member named in the GMP¡¯s list was suspended from all party positions pending the investigation. A formal press release was sent to every major news outlet.


    The nation watched In stunned silence.


    In a single announcement, the opposition party suspended more than twenty of its sitting MPs... including their own Leader of the Opposition. It was a political earthquake. Nothing like it had ever happened before in the history of the Kingdom¡¯s parliamentary system.


    And yet, the move was met with widespread admiration.


    If "The Stockport Scandal" had initially threatened to destroy the opposition party, their decisive response had turned the tide. Now, the public turned its attention to the ruling party. Several of its members were named in the leaked list. What would they do?


    Caught off guard, the ruling party could only muster a vague statement. They promised to "hold all wrongdoers ountable" and announced that a full party meeting would be held the following day. The dy and ambiguity were seen by many as weak leadership.


    Meanwhile, requests for ament from the Prime Minister were met with silence. The absence of a direct response only fueled spection. Headlines began to suggest that the Prime Minister was trying to protect his ministers.


    Within hours after midnight, the story hadpletely dominated national discourse. Online news portals and television stations ran nonstop coverage. Hashtags rted to the scandal began trending worldwide.


    Opposition leaders remained highly visible during this time. They gave interviews, participated in town hall broadcasts, and even allowed cameras to cover their internal meetings. It was a deliberate show of transparency... and it worked. Public sentiment began to shift decisively in their favor.


    In living rooms across the Kingdom, people stayed awake, glued to their screens. Some out of curiosity, others out of dread. But no one could deny the magnitude of what had just happened.


    ***


    The Brown family waspletely unaware of what was unfolding outside. Their evening had gone by as usual, and after dinner, most of them went to bed. The only ones still awake were the younger members of the family, who were either working on their own projects, watching movies, or ying games. None of them had the habit of watching news channels. As a result, while the entire nation was discussing Oliver Brown, the Brown family remained oblivious... safely tucked away in the protective bubble of their home.


    By the time others called to inform them about the situation, it was already toote. The investigation had expanded to include their businesses. The panicked elders of the family tried to contact Oliver, but he was unreachable. Since Oliver was usually busy with work, even his wife hadn¡¯t thought much of it when she noticed his phone was switched off earlier that evening. But now, with no sign of him and even his secretary unreachable, panic truly set in.


    After some discussion, the elders of the Brown family decided to contact the Greymoore family and seek their help with the situation. However, the entire Greymoore family was at the coliseum, attending Lucian¡¯s duel and cheering him on.


    Initially, they ignored the calls, considering them unimportant. But when multiple calls came through from several elders of the Brown family, they finally picked up. After hearing the details of the crisis, they agreed to deal with the matter... but only after the duel was over.


    The duel was starting to irritate the Greymoores. No matter how fiercely Lucian attacked, Ethan always managed to dodge. Though he had taken a few hits and his robe was now torn and tattered, it was clear to everyone that Ethan Raynor was still standing strong... fit as a fiddle.


    But when they began receiving urgent calls from political allies, they sensed something was wrong. Due to the deafening cheers and shouts in the coliseum, it was difficult to catch all the details over the phone. One of the Greymoore elders quickly left the coliseum to get a clearer picture of what was unfolding in the kingdom.


    When he returned, his face was grim. He quietly reported everything that had happened in their absence to the n head.


    Alistair Greymoore found himself caught between a rock and a hard ce. If he left to address the crisis unfolding in the kingdom, it would appear as though hecked confidence in his son and had abandoned Lucian¡¯s duel. But if he remained at the coliseum, the damage back home could escte by the time the fight ended.


    The duel had already dragged on for more than two hours, with no end in sight. Although Lucian was giving it his all, Ethan continued to dodge his attacks with frustrating ease. Things were clearly not going in Lucian¡¯s favor. At this rate, he would tire out and lose to Ethan.


    Taking a deep breath, Alistair rose to his feet and said firmly, "You all stay here. It¡¯s the Raynor n attacking our allies within the kingdom. I need to report this to the council members."

 Chapter 137: Leader of the Opposition

    <h4>Chapter 137: Leader of the Opposition</h4>


    When Alistair Greymoore reached the VIP area where the council members were seated, he lowered his head in a respectful bow, following proper werewolf etiquette. Once acknowledged, he stood quietly to the side,posed and waiting. Tradition dictated that no one could speak before the council without permission... unless, of course, the matter involved life or death for a werewolf.


    The duel in the coliseum had already be monotonous for the council members. What had begun as a high-stakes confrontation between powerful alphas now dragged on tediously. The audience¡¯s energy had dimmed, and the council members just wanted the match to end so they could return to their homes. But Alistair¡¯s sudden and formal arrival at the VIP tform raised eyebrows. Something was wrong.


    It was Sarika, the Priest of the werewolves, who broke the silence first.


    "Is there something you wish to say, Alistair?" she asked, her tone calm but inquisitive.


    Alistair exhaled, visibly relieved to be granted permission. "Thank you, Reverend One, for allowing me to speak."


    He bowed once more before continuing. "The Raynor n is deliberately stalling the duel to buy time while they dismantle our n¡¯s foundation in the kingdom. I beg this council to intervene before irreparable damage is done."


    Matthias, the Arbiter of the werewolves, leaned forward with a frown. "Are you iming they attacked your family members or your businesses directly? If so, that would be a serious vition of the dueling ord."


    Alistair nodded solemnly. "Our political influence in the kingdom has long been supported by several human allies embedded within Parliament and key bureaucratic circles. While this duel was meant to resolve our dispute over Stockport businesses, the situation has escted. Many of our human allies are now being publicly named in a massive scandal. Dozens are being used of financial crimes and corruption. It¡¯s too coordinated to be coincidence. Ethan Raynor is clearly dragging out the duel to keep us confined here while the Raynor n destroys us politically from the outside."


    Lucien Marceau Valemont, the Treasurer from France, narrowed his eyes. "Again, these are serious allegations, but do you have proof that the Raynor n orchestrated this? Have they taken direct action against your allies?"


    Alistair nodded again. "The Stockport businesses were managed by the Brown family, longtime friends and allies of ours. The scandal began with Oliver Brown... my son¡¯s close friend and a key figure in our political web. His arrest warrant triggered a chain reaction. It¡¯s all over the news now. Please, see for yourself."


    Before Alistair could respond, Sten Ragnar Fenroth, the Warlord of the werewolves, interjected. "What you are saying is the Raynor n is behind it? This is a bold usation. You should have proper proof to support it."


    At this, Sarika took out her phone and began scanning the headlines. Within minutes, her expression darkened. The scale of the situation was undeniable. Majorworks were broadcasting the scandal, naming influential politicians, corporate leaders, and long-time government advisors.


    "I see now why you¡¯re concerned," Sarika admitted. "But as far as I know, the Raynor n has never been interested in politics. They¡¯ve always kept their focus on business. If they really wanted to destroy you, they wouldn¡¯t have agreed to a duel in the first ce. It¡¯s not their way."


    The other council members murmured in agreement.


    "Yes. It doesn¡¯t match their usual behavior," Lucien echoed.


    "Regardless," Sarika continued, "you¡¯ve brought this to us, so it¡¯s only fair we check with the other party."


    She dialed Fiona Raynor, the head of the Raynor n. The phone rang three times before a sleepy, annoyed voice answered.


    "Why are you disturbing my sleep?" Fiona grumbled. "If that good-for-nothing Ethan loses the duel, you can whip him to death. No need to call me over it."


    The call was on speakerphone, and the entire council heard her words. A few stifled awkward coughs as embarrassment swept over the room.


    Sarika cleared her throat. "Fiona, do you know what¡¯s happening in the kingdom right now?"


    Fiona replied with an amused tone, "What happened? Did that bastard king finally drop dead? He¡¯s been pestering me for dinner for months. I never had the heart to tell him his great-grandfather used to pester me exactly like him!"


    Sarika closed her eyes for a moment, realizing Fiona was in one of her yful moods and clearly unaware of the scandal. Before the conversation grew more inappropriate, Sarika quickly ended the call.


    "Never mind. Call me in the morning," Fiona mumbled as the line went dead.


    Sarika looked back at Alistair. "You heard her. She¡¯s clearly unaware of what¡¯s happening. And if she was behind it, she wouldn¡¯t have denied it. She¡¯s never been one to hide her actions."


    Sten crossed his arms. "Alistair, if you believe the Raynor n is involved, then go and gather the evidence. Once you have something concrete, bring it to me. Until then, don¡¯t disturb the council during a sacred duel."


    Alistair understood that he had little choice. With a respectful bow, he left the VIP area. Once he returned to his n¡¯s seats, he gave immediate orders to his elders. They were to leave the coliseum and search for any shred of evidence that linked the Raynor n to the growing political catastrophe.


    One by one, the Greymoore elders exited the coliseum, they returned to the kingdom in search of answers.


    ***


    Elsewhere, the newsroom floors of the kingdom¡¯s major dailies like The Times, Daily Telegraph, and Daily Mail were buzzing with tension. Normally, their final editions were printed by midnight and distributed to regional hubs. But tonight, a tip from the opposition party had prompted them to hold their presses and leave space for a major announcement.


    Editors were initially puzzled when the Stockport Scandal broke at midnight instead. After the police held their emergency press briefing, journalists scrambled to cover the arrests, suspect lists, and unfolding chaos. Still, they were confused... was this the big political news they had been warned about?


    When they contacted opposition leaders for rification, they were told that the real announcement was still pending. Now, the editors were in a dilemma. Should they hold off or go all in?


    That dilemma vanished once the full list of suspects was leaked. Over a hundred names... half of them current Members of Parliament and ministers... were implicated in financial fraud, smuggling, and criminal conspiracy. It wasn¡¯t just a scandal; it was a political earthquake.


    The editors quickly decided to expand the coverage. Extra pages were added to the newspaper covers, turning the story into a full-blown special edition. Advertisingpanies, sensing record-breaking readership, rushed to securest-minute cements.


    The Stockport Scandal was now front-page news, not just a headline. Teams were dispatched to interview anyone even remotely connected to the suspects. The National Crime Agency coordinated with immigration authorities to prevent those on the list from fleeing the country. Some individuals were arrested at home, others at airports... caught just in time.


    Only a few from the list had managed to escape, and those were primarily from the opposition party, who already knew the situation in advance. What began as a single search warrant was now an all-consuming firestorm.


    Finally, the big news arrived. The Opposition Party held one final online meeting for the night, attended by nearly all its MPs and core officials. Most of them had already been briefed in advance, so there was no panic or confusion. They understood the gravity of the moment... this was poised to be a historic turning point not just for their party, but for the entire kingdom.


    Baron Ernest Prentice of Hampton, Chairman of the National Convention of the Opposition Party, presided over the meeting.


    "Thank you all for joining this meeting on such short notice," he began. "As you are aware, our party¡ªand indeed, our entire kingdom¡ªis currently facing a major political crisis. I don¡¯t need to exin the details; what happened was beyond our expectations. We had reason to suspect that one of our MPs, Oliver Brown, was involved in illicit activities. And as a party that upholds the interests of the nation above all else, we informed the relevant authorities. The rest, as you¡¯ve seen, is now headline news."


    He paused briefly, then added, "At the time, we never imagined we would have toe to this... stripping our party leader in Parliament of his positions. Many of our MPs have been arrested or face serious allegations. But now is not the time for hesitation. We must show the people of the kingdom that our party is not controlled by criminals, but by honest citizens. To do that, we need to elect a new leader of the opposition immediately. Please feel free to propose candidates you believe are best suited to lead us in these challenging times."


    Baron John Constantine of Notting Hill, Chairman of the Opposition Party Board, took the lead and said, "If we want the best for our party and the kingdom, we need to choose a leader with a strong reputation, someone well-liked by both the party and the media, and whoes from a noble background. Our focus must be on the uing election, so we need a leader who is fit to be Prime Minister. I propose Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman of Bethnal Green for the position of Leader of the Opposition and the next Prime Minister."

 Chapter 138: Kingdom First!

    <h4>Chapter 138: Kingdom First!</h4>


    After dering the name, Baron John Constantine paused for a moment, then added, "I know Baron Chapman has declined several positions in the past. But his father was once a minister of this kingdom, and his forefathers served in various prominent capacities throughout our history. This is the time he must step up and fulfill his family¡¯s legacy. If we hope to win the next election and restore the reputation of our party, then as co-chairman, it is his duty not to shy away. He is the most suitable candidate I can think of to lead us to victory. I formally request both the house and Baron Chapman himself to consider this proposal."


    Anthony, who had been suddenly thrown into the center of attention, smiled bitterly. He had attended every session of tonight¡¯s meetings but had not spoken a single word. It was nothing unusual for him. Anthony Chapman had always been the silent presence in party meetings. His position as co-chairman was granted not because of any political ambition but due to the weight of his family name. His ancestors had built their legacy through decades of loyal service, and Anthony inherited not just that legacy, but also an enormous fortune.


    Because of his wealth and silence, he had always been well respected... neutral, uninvolved, and thus, untouchable. He had turned down multiple chances to gain political office, showing no interest in power or influence. Yet, here he was... nominated to be the next leader of the party, and potentially the next Prime Minister.


    As the murmurs of agreement echoed around him, his thoughts suddenly drifted back to his strange encounter with that ck clothed man a few days ago. The memory sent a chill down his spine.


    That man¡¯s cold voice echoed in his mind again:


    "You don¡¯t have to do anything. Just ept what¡¯s being offered to you. Your party is going to nominate you as the leader. All you need to do is ept the honor gracefully. Later, they¡¯ll name you the next candidate for Prime Minister. You just have to smile, campaign, and win. My boss will handle the rest."


    The memory of those words made Anthony shiver. Despite sittingfortably in his study, dressed warmly, and with the room heater humming quietly, he felt a chill creep up his spine. A cold sweat trickled down his forehead.


    "The entire political structure of the kingdom is being manipted by this mysterious ¡¯boss¡¯... just to fulfill his wish? Who has this kind of power?"


    He thought back to how this scandal had erupted. It started with a tip about an MP... someone without much standing in the party. Yet somehow, that single MP had ess to enough evidence to bring down dozens of powerful figures. MPs, ministers, advisors... names that had once seemed untouchable were now being paraded through headlines. The authorities looked like they had been too lucky to struck a gold mine.


    Anthony clenched his fists under the table. "Only I know the truth. Or maybe the chairman and a few others who were unusually proactive tonight," he thought.


    But when he thought about the daughter he had never met, his heart hardened. The DNA test he had personally conducted left no room for doubt... she was his daughter. And yet, he had no idea what she was doing under the wing of her incredibly powerful boss.


    "How much power does someone need to orchestrate something this massive?"


    "Will they truly keep their promise and let me meet her after all this?"


    "Who are these people... unknown, unseen... yet capable of toppling an entire kingdom just because they want to?"


    These questions swirled in his mind, each one heavier than thest. But no matter how hard he searched for answers, he found none.


    His heart hardened. He had avoided power his whole life, but now it seemed he had no choice.


    "Who are these people? How can they control the kingdom without anyone even knowing their names?"


    As these thoughts swirled in his mind, hepletely missed the final part of Baron Constantine¡¯s speech.


    Baroness Ang Dodson of Kesteven, co-chairman of the Opposition Party, spoke as soon as Baron Constantine finished his speech. "I support the chairman¡¯s proposal. If anyone here has a different candidate in mind, pleasee forward now. Otherwise, we will proceed with the next item on our agenda."


    She paused for nearly a minute, giving everyone a chance to speak. No one did.


    "As you all know," she continued, "tonight¡¯s events have shaken the nation. Several of our MPs have been arrested, and more may follow. But in the midst of this crisis, we, as a party, have gained something greater... renewed public support. Our poprity is now at an all-time high. Given the arrests and the public anger surrounding the Stockport Scandal, we believe the time is right to demand an early election... for the good of the kingdom."


    She paused again for effect.


    "We have already prepared our slogan: ¡¯Kingdom First¡¯. This will be our rallying cry. After tonight¡¯s meeting, we should formally dere Baron Chapman as our Prime Ministerial candidate and go public with our demand for early elections."


    Ang turned to Anthony, her tone gentler now. "Baron Chapman, do you ept this responsibility?"


    There was a moment of silence. Every eye in the in the meeting looked at Anthony, who had been lost in thought just moments ago. Then, his voice echoed through the virtual meeting room... steady, but with a trace of hesitation.


    "I ept," he said.


    Several leaders let out quiet sighs of relief. Given the party¡¯s current state and the shifting sands of national politics, they all agreed... Baron Chapman was their best hope.


    Anthony continued, his voice more confident now. "Although I never envisioned myself as a minister, let alone Prime Minister, I realize this is not the time to shy away. I am not yet prepared to lead in the traditional sense, but if the party... if all of you...


    stand by me, then I will do my best. I agree with what has been said tonight. In these turbulent times, I must fulfill my duty... to the party, and more importantly, to the kingdom."


    He paused, then added, "However, if anyone believes there is someone more suitable than me, I would be just as happy to remain where I am."


    But no one spoke. The silence that followed was not ufortable¡ªit was reassuring.


    One senior MP spoke up, "We trust you, Baron Chapman. And we stand with you."


    Others nodded, murmuring in agreement.


    Baroness Ang smiled. "Then it¡¯s settled. We¡¯ll draft the public statement now and send it to the media outlets. At sunrise, the nation will know that ¡¯Kingdom First¡¯ is more than just a slogan. It is our promise."


    Anthony leaned back in his chair, trying to process everything. Behind his calm demeanor, his mind was still racing.


    "Who is the mysterious boss? What does he want? And how far is he willing to go to get it?"


    Tonight¡¯s event shown him that there was no limit to that boss¡¯s power. But for now, he had to y his part. The pieces had been arranged. The kingdom was watching. And he needs to meet his daughter as soon as possible.


    ***


    All media outlets exploded with breaking headlines. Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman had officially reced the former Leader of the Opposition, who was foundplicit in the Stockport Scandal. Alongside this announcement, Chapman was also dered the Opposition Party¡¯s candidate for the next Prime Minister. In light of the scandal that implicated a significant number of MPs, the party demanded an early general election.


    Every major newswork received the opposition¡¯s new campaign tform, headlined with the slogan: "Kingdom First!" It included a list of promises the party vowed to uphold if Anthony Chapman were elected Prime Minister. What should have remained the top story of the day... the Stockport Scandal... was swiftly overshadowed by the rise of Anthony Chapman.


    Print media scrambled to roll out prenned cover pages featuring arge portrait of Baron Chapman. The front pages were dominated by two faces: Oliver Brown, exposed as the ringleader of heinous crimes, and Anthony Chapman, heralded as the face of reform rising from the ashes of the scandal.


    Some online outlets published detailed timelines chronicling the night¡¯s events. They outlined everything... from the emergency opposition meeting to the explosive revtions of the Stockport Scandal, culminating in Baron Chapman¡¯s dramatic ascension.


    Biographical articles about Chapman and his noble lineage began to surface, adding fuel to the public¡¯s growing curiosity. In just a few hours, he became the most talked-about person in the kingdom. Anthony Hayward Chapman was trending.


    ***


    But the true instigator behind it all, Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Her phone kept on silent mode.


    It was the night of Ethan¡¯s duel and Baron Chapman¡¯s rise to power, yet she had no concerns about either. Ethan had assured her he would win... and not only that, he had promised to prolong the duel for at least two hours to give her time to execute her works without interruption.


    She had only casually asked him to keep the duel going longer if he could. Ethan, confident as ever, pledged two full hours. If only he knew why Eleanor needed the dy!


    Fiona¡¯s name shed on Eleanor¡¯s screen, but no sound came from it. After two unanswered rings, Fiona redirected her call to Sebastian, hoping to uncover what Eleanor had done to utterly destroy the Brown family.


    Sebastian calmly exined that the Browns¡¯ downfall had been inevitable... from the moment Eleanor decided that Baron Chapman would be the next Prime Minister. In truth, their destruction had been ready weeks ago. The only reason it had been dyed was the duel. Eleanor had chosen to wait... just to have a little fun on dueling night.


    When Fiona heard Juliette nc was assisting Eleanor in her political maneuvering, she was stunned into silence. Everyone in the kingdom knew Juliette¡¯s reputation: if she was involved, sess was guaranteed.


    Realizing the magnitude of the situation, Fiona decided to inform her dear friend Sarika with a simple message:


    "It has nothing to do with the Greymoore n. Eleanor set her eyes on the next PM."

 Chapter 139: End of the Duel

    <h4>Chapter 139: End of the Duel</h4>


    In Lunargarde, the werewolves¡¯ sacred coliseum, the duel between Lucian Greymoore and Ethan Raynor continued to rage. Dust swirled in the air, the scent of blood and sweat heavy on the breeze. Lucian had long lost hisposure... his movements were wild, his attacks desperate. Although he hadn¡¯t inflicted much visible damage on Ethan¡¯s body, the state of Ethan¡¯s tattered clothes spoke volumes about the intensity of the battle. They bore testament to Lucian¡¯s relentless pressure and the sheer force of his power.


    With a roar, Lucianunched dozens of earth spikes at Ethan, each projectile moving at a blistering speed. Ethan stepped back swiftly to dodge, but just as he did, an earth pir erupted behind him... clearly a calcted move on Lucian¡¯s part. Trapped between the spikes and the rising stone, Ethan had no time to evade.


    In a sh, Ethan raised an energy barrier in front of him to block the deadly assault. Simultaneously, he shifted his weight and tried to dodge as many spikes as possible.


    Two spikes collided with the barrier, and it cracked in several ces. Ethan gritted his teeth and ducked low, narrowly avoiding another. A third spike struck the barrier, and it shattered with a sharp, echoing crack. With the protective shield gone, Ethan was forced to deflect the iing spikes using only his palms... each one redirected with precise and fluid movements.


    When thest spike fell to the ground, Ethan quickly widened the distance between himself and Lucian to prevent any follow-up attacks.


    Lucian snarled in frustration, his voice booming across the arena. "It¡¯s been more than two hours! If you have the strength, then fight me! Stop running like a coward! Face me like a warrior!"


    Ethan tilted his head, genuinely surprised. "Two hours already? Time really flies."


    Lucian roared again, veins bulging on his forehead. "What do you even know about fighting? All you do is dodge and hide! Come... face me head-on if you¡¯re brave enough!"


    Ethan shrugged. "Alright then. As you wish."


    A fierce battle cry escaped Lucian¡¯s throat as he activated his n¡¯s secret technique, "Battle Armour". All around him, debris and shattered stones began to gather and swirl in the air, drawn toward his body. The fragments rapidly encased him, forming a hardenedyer of rocky armour. His height increased by several feet, and his already muscr frame expanded, bing monstrous in size. Despite this increase in bulk, Lucian¡¯s movements remained surprisingly swift... each step thunderous, but agile.


    He performed a series ofplex hand signs and murmured an ancient incantation. A visible surge of energy rippled across his body, and the temperature around him dropped. Gasps echoed from the spectators as a tangible pressure settled over the arena.


    "Did you see that?" someone in the crowd eximed. "Lucian just amplified his strength. Ethan won¡¯t stand a chance!"


    "That technique... it¡¯s not from the Greymoore n. It looks like a new technique Lucian learned or they hid this technique till now. I¡¯ve seen something like it from the Fenroth n."


    "I swear those were the same hand signs used by a Fenroth elder I saw once. How did Lucian learn them?"


    "Could it be that the Fenroth n shared their secrets with the Greymoores?"


    "Impossible. No n shares their secret techniques... especially important like this one."


    "Doesn¡¯t matter how he got it. Ethan¡¯s in trouble now."


    "Not necessarily. I don¡¯t think Ethan has shown his full strength yet."


    "I just hope he wins. I ced a decent bet on him."


    Suddenly, Lucian surged forward with a roar. His massive, armor-coated body moved faster than anyone expected. His colossal fist punched through the air with such speed that it broke the sound barrier, creating a thunderous sonic boom.


    Ethan, however, stood still... calm and unmoving, as if frozen in ce.


    But he wasn¡¯t frozen. He was calcting.


    Ethan activated his bloodline ability... Analysis. In a split second, countless lines, angles, and trajectories appeared before his eyes like a digital web oveying reality. His pupils glowed faintly as he calcted probabilities. He chose the optimal rebound path within a heartbeat.


    As Lucian¡¯s enormous punch approached, Ethan sidestepped with precision and punched forward... not at Lucian, but directly at the armoured fist.


    To the spectators, it looked absurd. A normal-sized man, barehanded and exhausted, striking a hulking fist d inyers of rock and debris. The entire audience leaned forward in anticipation, expecting Ethan to be thrown across the arena like a ragdoll.


    But what happened next stunned everyone.


    Upon contact, a deep cracking sound echoed across the coliseum. Lucian¡¯s monstrous punch disintegrated... crumbled like dry sand. The armour surrounding his arm shatteredpletely. The shockwave hurled Lucian backwards through the air. He mmed into the ground yards away, skidding across the dirt and finally lying still in his wolf form, unconscious.


    The arena fell Into a deathly silence.


    Seconds passed, but Lucian did not rise.


    The crowd remained frozen, as if unwilling to believe what they had just witnessed. Then, somewhere in the stands, a cheer broke the silence. And another. Then another.


    Suddenly, the entire coliseum erupted into thunderous apuse and wild celebration.


    Aside from the Greymoore n and a handful of their allies, nearly everyone in attendance had been silently rooting for Ethan. He wasn¡¯t just the underdog... he had shown resilience, intelligence, and strength under pressure. For many, it wasn¡¯t just a victory... it was a triumph of perseverance over arrogance.


    The referee walked to the center and raised his hand. "And the Winner is: Ethan Raynor!"


    Healers rushed to Lucian¡¯s side to tend to his injuries. Meanwhile, the Greymoore n members gathered quietly, their faces stiff and unreadable. They didn¡¯t wait for the celebrations to die down. Instead, they exited the coliseum in silence, heading to their private jets parked at the airstrip nearby. Within the next few minutes, they had left the venue.


    ***


    In the VIP section above, the Council of members rose from their seats. At their head was the Arbiter, who gave a silent gesture, and the group began to leave the coliseum in dignified silence.


    Sarika was just about to follow when she felt her phone vibrate. It was a message from Fiona.


    She smiled after reading the message. Once again, Eleanor¡¯s behavior piqued her interest. It reminded her of a task she had assigned to one of her scientist friends living in the United States. Without hesitation, she dialed the number.


    "Reba, is it done?"


    "Yes," came the calm reply. "It¡¯s ready. You cane pick it up anytime."


    "Perfect. I¡¯ll be on my way now."


    Ending the call, Sarika walked over to the other council members and smiled politely. "Apologies, everyone. Something urgent just came up. Please enjoy dinner without me... I¡¯ll join you next time."


    With that, she turned and exited toward the private airstrip where multiple jets were preparing for departure. Among the crowd, her eyesnded on Ethan Raynor.


    He stood near his private ne, surrounded by a group of enthusiastic youngsters. Despite his cold and reserved demeanor, they eagerly surrounded him, taking photos and even asking for autographs.


    Sarika raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "So this is what victory looks like in this era," she thought.


    Sarika was amused by Ethan¡¯s sudden surge in poprity. Without wasting time, she boarded a flight and headed to the United States.


    ***


    Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Priest of Werewolves, stepped out of her private jet at Baltimore¨CWashington International Thurgood Marshall Airport. A helicopter was already waiting for her nearby. Without dy, she boarded it and took off toward the Johns Hopkins Institute of Gic Medicine in Baltimore.


    As the helicopter descended at the rooftop helipad, Sarika caught sight of the sprawling East Baltimore medical campus... a dense and orderly maze of red-brick buildings, ss-fronted towers, and rooftop HVAC arrays shimmering in the morning haze.


    She spotted the unmistakable blue-and-white dome of The Johns Hopkins Hospital, and just a few rooftops away, the McKusick-Nathans Institute of Gic Medicine... a sleek, ss-d research hub nestled against a backdrop of 19th-century brick facades.


    A security officer, sent by Reba, was already waiting to receive her. After verifying her identity, he handed her a visitor badge and guided her toward the elevator. As the doors slid shut, the sounds of the bustling campus faded away, reced by a soft hum and a subtle shift in pressure as the lift began its smooth ascent.


    The elevator descended past floors of precisionboratories, gic sequencing bays, and conference rooms softly lit by the glow of smart ss. When the doors slid open, the crisp scent of isopropyl alcohol and sterilized surfaces greeted her. Her boots clicked against the polished tile floor as she stepped into the core research wing, where portraits of historic gicists lined the walls and sma screens disyed dynamic, spiraling genomes in continuous motion.


    The security officer departed as soon as he spotted Dr. Reba Lewis approaching from the hallway.


    Reba¡¯s face lit up with a dazzling smile the moment she saw her dear friend. She rushed forward and pulled Sarika into a tight hug. After a brief moment of warmth and enthusiasm, she stepped back andposed herself, the smile fading into a more serious expression.


    "The report is ready. Come to my office," she said in a firm, businesslike tone.

 Chapter 140: The Good and The Bad News

    <h4>Chapter 140: The Good and The Bad News</h4>


    Dr. Reba Lewis, Professor of Gic Medicine at The Center for Inherited Disease Research (CIDR), had built a distinguished career. She had earned her Bachelor of Science degree from the University of Wisconsin, where she met Sarika under unusual circumstances... an incident that would mark the beginning of a lifelong friendship.


    It had been a quiet morning. The road was empty, and the pedestrian signal had just turned green. Reba stepped onto the zebra crossing while she was thinking about her studies. From the opposite side, Sarika was also crossing when a speeding car suddenly ignored the signal and charged ahead. Reba froze in shock, unable to move. Without hesitation, Sarika dashed forward, grabbed Reba by the waist, and pulled her out of the car¡¯s path just in time.


    That moment became the foundation of a powerful bond. Sarika, who was then coborating with a research team studying the sociocultural anthropology of the Caral-Supe civilization, also known as the Norte Chico civilization of coastal Peru... had always carried a calm,manding presence. Her knowledge spanned history, science, and politics, and she was working with an international team on the origins of Andean civilizations, focusing on their urban nning, sunken zas, and early pyramid architecture. This culture, which thrived between 3000 and 1800 BCE, was widely considered one of the oldest known civilizations in the Latin America.


    Reba, equally driven but from apletely different field, found herself fascinated by Sarika¡¯s world. Sarika, in turn, admired Reba¡¯s curiosity and rity of thought. Despiteing from vastly different disciplines, the two hit it off immediately. Over time, their bond deepened. Reba¡¯s passion for gics and Sarika¡¯s grounding in ancient cultures often led tote-night conversations about evolution, mutations, and destiny.


    Afterpleting her undergraduate degree, Reba moved on to Johns Hopkins University, where she pursued her PhD andter joined the McKusick-Nathans Institute of Gic Medicine as a researcher. Sarika returned to India and took on more responsibility within her n, continuing her work both in the schrly and supernatural realms. Despite the distance, they remained close, exchanging updates and supporting each other through life¡¯s twists and turns.


    When Sarika needed to conduct a sensitive paternity test... one that involved the King of Werewolves and Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, there was no question in her mind about who to trust. Reba had the discretion, technical knowledge, and ess to a privateb facility where the data could be handled off the record. The confidentiality of the result was paramount. Sarika knew that if the gene sequence fell into the wrong hands, the consequences could be catastrophic... not just for Erevan and Eleanor, but for the entire werewolf society.


    Upon entering theb, Reba greeted her with a smile and pointed toward the chair across from her desk. "Sarika, sit down. The report¡¯s in my drawer. I figured you¡¯d want to see it for yourself."


    She circled the desk, sat down, and opened a drawer, pulling out a sealed envelope. She handed it to Sarika with a curious look in her eyes.


    "I have to say," Reba began, "the gic samples you gave me were fascinating. The sequences were... unusual, to say the least. It almost looked like a human mutation... something extraordinary, maybe even evolved beyond current human limits."


    Sarika¡¯s face remained neutral.


    Reba leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Don¡¯t worry. I deleted everything. No copies exist. Just that envelope in your hand. But I couldn¡¯t help taking a look on the gene sequence. The sequences were... well, I¡¯ve never seen anything like them."


    "That¡¯s why I came to you. I trust you," Sarika said calmly.


    Reba exhaled and continued. "It¡¯s good that you came to me. Because if this fell into military hands, your rtives could be considered living weapons. Trust me... someone would try to clone them. Can you tell me what are their powers? I mean... every autism resulted some sort of superpower."


    Sarika nodded. "Their strength is higher than normal human."


    "I could tell," Reba muttered, more to herself than to Sarika. "Just promise me something... never let them end up in the wrong hands. Whatever they are, they¡¯re special. But also dangerous in the wrong hands."


    There was a pause.


    "Anyway," Reba added, straightening, "you wanted the test. See for yourself."


    Sarika opened the envelope and skimmed the pages until her eyes locked on the final line:


    "Based on the gic markers analyzed, the probability that Party A is the biological father of Party B is greater than 99.9999%. This result strongly supports paternity."


    For a moment, Sarika forgot to breathe.


    Although she had suspected this result, seeing it confirmed in ck and white sent a chill down her spine. Her instincts had been right from the beginning. The girl who had appeared in her vision, Eleanor... was indeed connected to the Lychos n. After the events in the ancient temple, everything had pointed toward this conclusion.


    She thought of Erevan, the werewolf king. He had searched for a mysterious girl he¡¯d met thirty years ago... a woman who had changed his life in a single night.


    Born with Selective Sexual Dysfunction, Erevan had spent years believing he would never experience attraction to any woman. He had tried to bond with many werewolves and other races alike... only to be failed. Over time, he became frustrated and stopped searching. He thought, he would never have a sexual life. That was until he met her.


    It had been a party to celebrate a special Northern Lights. She approached him boldly, and to his utter shock, he feltfortable around her. Not only that... he felt desire for the first time in his life. The experience overwhelmed him. He followed her back to her rented vi, and they shared one night of passion.


    The next morning, when Erevan stepped out of the vi to buy breakfast for the girl, a messenger from the Lychos n reached him with devastating news... his father had been in an ident.


    He returned to Brontes Ind immediately, overwhelmed by the kingdom¡¯s responsibilities and his father¡¯s sudden disappearance. Days passed in a blur of duty and concern. By the time he finally remembered the girl, she had already left the area... disappeared as if she had vanished into thin air.


    There was no photo. She hadn¡¯t even given her name to Erevan. For her, it was just a one-night stand. But for Erevan... who had finally found the only woman he could physically touch, it meant everything.


    Back then, there were no smartphones or advanced surveince systems. They had to rely solely on the tracking abilities of werewolves. But all they discovered was that the girl had gone into the sea and never returned.


    Erevan had no choice but to draw her portrait from memory and distribute it among the werewolf ns, hoping someone might recognize her. Yet, after all these years, not a single lead had surfaced. Some even whispered that Erevan had fabricated the story to excuse his inability of sexual rtionship.


    But today, she had found Erevan¡¯s offspring. Still, she didn¡¯t know how to deliver the news to him. It should have been a joyous moment... finally discovering a living link to the woman he had lost. But given Eleanor¡¯splicated history, it was also heartbreaking.


    She now carried both good and bad news... and had to deliver them to her king.


    Sarika sighed deeply. "I finally found his child... and yet, I don¡¯t know how to tell him. It should be the happiest moment of his life. But knowing Eleanor¡¯s mother died at childbirth... it¡¯s going to break him."


    Reba watched her with quietly for some moment and observed her disappointed expression. Finally, she couldn¡¯t help but ask, "Wasn¡¯t this the result you wanted? Did their father-daughter rtionshipplicate things for your rtives? If so, I can fabricate a different result to keep everything in line."


    Sarika suddenly snapped out of her thoughts. "No, no. I just remembered something else, that¡¯s all. Thank you for the test, Reba. Without you, I wouldn¡¯t have been able to do it in secret."


    Reba offered a warm smile. "I¡¯m always happy to help you, Sarika. You don¡¯t owe me anything."


    The tension eased, and the two women talked for a while, catching up on various matters... scientific breakthroughs, political shifts, and some personal anecdotes. The sterile silence of theb was soon reced by softughter and shared memories.


    After more than half an hour, Sarika checked the time and stood up, her expression sobering again. The weight of the message she carried pressed heavily on her shoulders. It was time.


    She embraced Reba lightly. "Thanks again. I need to go now. My rtives are waiting for answers."


    With that, she left the research institute and made her way toward her helicopter. After boarded her ne at he airport, she rested in her cabin for some time while deciding how she would deliver the news.


    Her destination was Brontes Ind... where she needed to deliver the news to Erevan Brontes Lychos, the king of werewolves.

 Chapter 141: She is your Daughter

    <h4>Chapter 141: She is your Daughter</h4>


    Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, the Priest of Werewolves, was led by the butler to a private courtyard belonging to Erevan Brontes Lychos, the King of Werewolves. Upon entering, Sarika found Erevan seated on a garden chair, surrounded by a vast array of blooming flowers. He was sipping tea and reading some documents.


    Seeing Sarika, he set down the papers and said, "Come, sit here. When I heard it was just you who wanted to meet me, I thought of bringing you here. There¡¯s no need for formality between us."


    Sarika took a seat opposite Erevan. Her action was calm andposed. Nobody will believe that she had diligently prepared all the speeches she would make in this meeting whileing here.


    As he poured her a cup of tea, Erevan said, "Have some tea."


    Sarika took a sip and eximed in surprise, "Is this Da Hong Pao?"


    Erevan nodded. "Yes. I bought it directly from the Wuyi Mountains in Fujian Province, China."


    "I didn¡¯t get the chance to buy any this year," Sarika replied. "Wuyi rock tea is insanely expensive. But I love its unique orchid fragrance and longsting sweet aftertaste."


    Erevan set the teapot down. "Why did you want to meet me? You just left Brontes Ind a few days ago. I assume you have something urgent to discuss."


    "Yes," Sarika said. "I came back to show you something. But I wanted to show you in person."


    Erevan understood immediately and signalled for his butler and the guards to leave. Once they were alone, he said, "Now it¡¯s just you and me. You can tell me."


    Sarika reached into her handbag, pulled out an envelope, and removed a photograph. She held it up so Erevan could see it clearly.


    Erevan was calmly sipping tea, but the moment his eyesnded on the photo, the cup slipped from his hand and dropped on the table. Tea sshed everywhere. He was utterly shocked.


    "You... you... how... where did you get this photo?" he stammered.


    Sarika asked, "Who is she? Do you know her?"


    "Yes," Erevan replied urgently. "She¡¯s the girl I¡¯ve been searching for all these years. Where is she?"


    "I can tell you everything," Sarika said. "But first, you must promise me that you¡¯ll follow my instructions. No matter what happens, you must not act rashly."


    "Okay, I promise," Erevan agreed without hesitation.


    He was desperate to meet the girl he had been searching for. His heart couldn¡¯t bear the suspense any longer. At this point, he would agree to anything.


    Sarika said gently, "My Lord, firstly, you¡¯re mistaken. This is not the girl you¡¯ve been searching for. Her name is Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, the Young Miss of the Raynor n."


    Erevan listened intently with a thousand questions in his mind.


    Sarika continued, "Eleanor was born human. During an ident, she was turned into a werewolf by the Raynor n. That¡¯s when she awakened the Elizabeth bloodline. The girl you¡¯ve been searching for is her mother."


    "Where is she?" Erevan asked hurriedly.


    "My lord, you must steady yourself. I¡¯ll tell you the whole story," Sarika said. She paused before continuing.


    "Nearly thirty years ago, Eleanor¡¯s mother returned pregnant from a trip to the Scandinavian countries. She had no boyfriend or husband. Still, she was determined to keep the baby. But after a few months, doctors warned her that her pregnancy was highly unusual. They advised her to terminate it or she would die during childbirth. She chose to go through with it... and she died soon after childbirth, as expected."


    She paused again before adding, "Eleanor is your daughter. You know how dangerous it is when a human gives birth to a werewolf¡¯s child... especially a child carrying such a strong bloodline. Her mother kept her pregnancy hidden and stayed most of the pregnancy time at hospital. And she died soon after giving birth. That¡¯s why our people couldn¡¯t find her mother all these years."


    Sarika then took out a sealed envelope and handed Erevan a document. "This is a paternity test I conducted between you and Eleanor. It was done in secret... no one knows. Do you remember a few days ago when I asked for your hair for a ritual? It was actually for this test."


    Erevan unfolded the paper and read the results. His heart leapt to his throat, and tears began to fall from his eyes.


    "Eleanor doesn¡¯t know either," Sarika said softly. "She came to India a few days ago to meet me for business purposes. I took her to the ancient temple of the werewolves. Both the Raynor and Lychos n ancestors blessed her. That¡¯s when I realized her connection to your n. Later, I suspected she might be your daughter with that mysterious woman... and this test confirmed it."


    "How did she awaken the Elizabeth bloodline if she has Lychos bloodline?" Erevan asked.


    Sarika exined, "Even though she¡¯s your daughter, she was born human... neither a werewolf nor a hybrid. Her unusual condition likely caused her mother¡¯s death. But she had a werewolf¡¯s physique, so she was easily turned. I believe her human birth allowed the Elizabeth bloodline to dominate initially. Still, I sensed that she would eventually awaken the Lychos bloodline as well. I¡¯ve examined her... her physique is highly unusual. I believe she will be a major powerhouse among werewolves."


    She took a sip of tea and added, "I told you not to act rashly because of your position. Many in the Lychos n believe you have no heir. They see your death as their opportunity to im the throne. If news of Eleanor spreads, they might target her in secret. For her safety, we must keep this information hidden."


    Then she said, more firmly, "Only you and I know the truth. You saw her mother¡¯s photo. I learned the truth from the ancestors and did the paternity test. Until Eleanor is powerful enough to defend herself, we must not reveal her identity. I believe we should prepare her, at least train her to rise as an Ascendant. When the timees, we can introduce her during the coronation ceremony as your daughter. Until then, you must keep your distance, My Lord. Any misstep could endanger her."


    Erevan frowned, concern etched deep into his face. "But... how powerful can she really be in just one year?"


    Sarika¡¯s gaze held steady. "You¡¯d be surprised. I already told you that her physique is extraordinary... even among our kind. I¡¯ll create a story that motivates her to grow stronger. Leave that to me. And when she¡¯s ready, I¡¯ll arrange a meeting between you two... without raising suspicion."


    After a pause, Erevan asked, "Okay... but can I meet her this week? Just once?"


    Sarika sighed. Her voice softened. "I know you¡¯re eager. I know you feel guilty about what happened to her mother. Honestly, I struggled with how to even break this news to you. But please... think about Eleanor¡¯s future. If she¡¯s not ready, it¡¯s better she doesn¡¯t know the truth. You already lost her mother because of your carelessness. Don¡¯t risk losing her too, just to soothe your own guilt."


    Her wordsnded like a blow. She had prepared all the speech to deliver, knowing the king might be overwhelmed with emotion. As the Priest, she had to be his anchor... the voice of reason.


    After a long silence, Erevan finally nodded. "Okay. I¡¯ll follow your instructions. But... please, just give me a chance to meet my daughter soon. I won¡¯t do anything reckless. I promise."


    Sarika gave a small, reassuring nod. "Alright. Leave it to me."


    As his gaze lingered on the photo, Erevan asked, his voice quieter, "Can I... have this photo?"


    Sarika¡¯s stern expression softened. She smiled faintly. "Yes. You may take it. But keep it hidden. Hide it well... until the dayes when we reveal her identity to the world."


    Without another word, Erevan picked up the photo and carefully ced it into his storage ring, as though locking away a treasure he had finally found.


    "Okay," he whispered. "I will."


    ***


    In the kingdom, news of the Stockport Scandal dominated the day. While the opposition party suffered losses due to the number of its MPs implicated, it was the ruling cab that bore the brunt of the fallout. The public epted the opposition¡¯s role as whistleblowers, while the involvement of several sitting ministers left the ruling party on the defensive.


    The opposition¡¯s handling of the situation, particrly their swift deration of a Prime Ministerial candidate was widely apuded and quickly reshaped the politicalndscape. On social media, Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman began trending for his remarkable life achievements and noble family lineage.


    Party leaders and politicalmentators painted him as a man wholly devoted to the kingdom... someone who had never sought personal gain from his years of tireless social work. He was widely praised for previously declining numerous ministerial and government roles, with many highlighting how he had only agreed to run for Prime Minister under immense pressure from within his party.


    Though Anthony himself made no public statements, his image appeared across all major media outlets and news channels.


    In several cities, citizens took to the streets... rallying both for the immediate arrest of those involved in the scandal and in support of the opposition¡¯s call for early elections.


    By evening, following a meeting with the King, the Prime Minister officially announced a national election to be held in three months¡¯ time.

 Chapter 142: House of Lords

    <h4>Chapter 142: House of Lords</h4>


    Three days had passed since the Stockport Scandal erupted across headlines and social media feeds. Yet despite their relentless efforts, the Greymoore n found no evidence that could be traced back to the Raynor n. Surprisingly, all Raynor members had remained stationed at their respective posts during that dreadful night. Even the activities of the nc n were scrutinized, but investigators came up empty-handed.


    Eleanor had anticipated this scenario long before executing her n. She had meticulously arranged for all her shadow guards who worked the Stockport operation to travel exclusively in helicopters and cars owned or rented through Edward Miller, chairman of the Miller Group. It wasn¡¯t just a safety measure... it was a calcted move. The Millers, too, stood to benefit from the operation¡¯s oue.


    She had even taken Edward Miller with her when she visited Mayor Grant a day before the scandal broke. With the sudden downfall of the Brown family, Eleanor made sure the Miller Group would have the opportunity to enter Stockport and fill the resulting power vacuum. Edward¡¯s patience and loyalty were now bearing fruit.


    Although both Edward Miller and Mayor Grant had some idea of what wasing, neither of them had foreseen the sheer scale of the takedown. The coordinated arrests, the media frenzy, the public outrage... it was beyond anything they imagined. While they didn¡¯t know Eleanor¡¯s exact ns regarding the appointment of the next Prime Minister, the signs were bing harder to ignore. Her people were bing increasingly active in the capital, and it was clear that the Eleanor¡¯s influence was rising swiftly. Edward Miller knew all first hand because all Eleanor¡¯s people used vehicles from hispany.


    The Brown family, once untouchable, had crumbled under the weight of the scandal. Their assets were frozen, theirpanies ced under government scrutiny, and the media relentlessly painted them as a criminal organization. Oliver Brown, along with his longtime secretary, had vanished. Police searched frantically for him, but no clues had surfaced. Everyone assumed he had fled with help from the opposition party members caught in the scandal.


    Unbeknownst to the authorities, Oliver and his secretary had both been quietly eliminated on the very night of the incident by guards from n nc. After extracting every piece of useful information from them, they were silenced. Eleanor¡¯s shadow team raided Oliver¡¯s hidden vault and retrieved an enormous hoard of gold and diamonds, along with sensitive documents for future use.


    Eleanor, never one to hoard ill-gotten wealth, gifted all the retrieved gold and diamonds to the nc n for their internal development. The act stunned n Head Dominic nc, who was so surprised by the unexpected fortune that he immediately called Fiona Raynor to confirm if it was truly a gift.


    Fiona, unaware of the details, simply replied, "If Eleanor gave it to you, then you should keep it. After all, it wasn¡¯t Raynor n money. That wealth was looted from humans. It¡¯s better used for your n¡¯s future."


    During the interrogation phase of the mission, Eleanor¡¯s team uncovered several offshore ounts in Oliver¡¯s name, holding more than ten billion dors. Without hesitation, Eleanor transferred the entire sum to a secure ount belonging to Anastasiya Ivanova in Russia, the beloved granddaughter of Lord Alexander Ivanov. Anastasiya was currently living in Eleanor¡¯s vi area, along with Teresa and Cassandra. The money would serve as a major investment for the joint project Anastasiya and Lily were developing.


    La Hasanovi?, a former member of the Imperial Haven... had now been given a new identity: La Monroe. She had officially joined Eleanor¡¯s security team. As a woman, she was permitted to board Eleanor¡¯s car and acted as her aide when Teresa wasn¡¯t avable. La proved especially helpful in managing protocols and security logistics for Eleanor¡¯s increasing busy schedules.


    Today, Eleanor was en route to Langford Estate to meet her granduncle, Walter Langford, the current Earl of Birmingham. The visit was not just familial... it had political significance.


    American businessman Brian Morgan was currently overseeing the transformation of Langford Park into a major entertainment hub. Since the park was located in the heart of Old Birmingham City, its value would skyrocket uponpletion. Councilor Louis Turner had been instrumental in smoothing regtory hurdles for the project. When both men heard of Eleanor¡¯s nned visit to the estate, they made sure to be present to wee her.


    As Eleanor¡¯s convoy stopped in front of the historic Langford castle and she stepped gracefully out of the vehicle, both Brian and Louis hurried forward to greet her.


    "Wee, Miss Raynor," they said in unison, offering practiced smiles.


    Eleanor smiled inwardly at their enthusiasm. Just months ago, these same men had been threatening to both the Langfords and Eleanor. Now they were behaving like loyal supporters.


    "Good morning, Mr. Morgan. Mr. Turner. How have you both been?" she asked with polite warmth.


    The two men exchanged pleasantries with her, clearly eager to stay in her good graces.


    Walter Langford and the Langford family¡¯s long-serving butler, Graham, stood at the castle gates with several other senior staff to receive her. Eleanor walked up to them and greeted, "Good morning, Granduncle. Good morning, everyone. I hope all is well."


    Graham replied, "Thanks to you, everything here has improved dramatically. Councilor Turner has even lent us his support several times."


    Eleanor turned toward Louis with a nod. "Then I must thank you personally, Councilor."


    Louis offered a modest bow. "It¡¯s nothing, really. It was my duty as a local representative."


    Walter gestured toward the entrance. "Come inside. You¡¯ve traveled a long way to get here."


    Eleanor agreed. "Yes. And I need to speak with you privately."


    After everyone was seated in the castle¡¯s grand hall, Eleanor and Walter withdrew to a secret chamber, essible only to members of the Langford family members.


    Once seated, Eleanor went straight to the point. "I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve been following the news regarding the Stockport Scandal."


    Walter chuckled. "Indeed. It¡¯s been fascinating to watch. Who would¡¯ve thought a single search warrant would devastate the entire kingdom."


    Eleanor¡¯s expression grew serious. "I came here to discuss a rted matter. During the investigation, one of the House of Lords members was arrested. He held a Hereditary Peerage. Now, his seat is vacant."


    Walter¡¯s eyes narrowed. He instantly understood Eleanor¡¯s intension. "And you want me to re-enter the House of Lords?"


    Eleanor nodded. "Yes. The Langfords have been out of politics for too long. I want you to reim your ce."


    Walter hesitated. "I could express my intent to return, but there¡¯s a vote involved. That mightplicate things."


    "You don¡¯t need to worry about the vote," Eleanor said calmly. "I¡¯ll take care of that. All you need to do is call your party leaders and inform them that you¡¯re interested in filling the vacant seat."


    She could see doubt flicker in his eyes. Eleanor looked at his eyes, her gaze piercing. "Call them now. Restore the Langford name. As the Earl, it is your duty."


    Under hermanding presence, Walter finally took out his phone and began dialing. To his astonishment, everything moved faster than expected. The party leaders responded with enthusiasm, weing his return to politics. Their tone was deferential, even eager.


    What Walter didn¡¯t know was that Eleanor had already spoken to them in advance, urging them to support his nomination. She had cleared the path... he simply needed to walk it.


    After returning to the main hall, Eleanor joined the others in discussing the progress of the Langford Park Entertainment Center and several other development projects involving Langford Estate properties. Brian Morgan¡¯spany had taken the lead in most of these developments. Since Teresa had been handling the coboration, Eleanor hadn¡¯t had the chance to learn about the full scope of the projects. She listened carefully, asking a few sharp questions, and nodded with quiet approval at the responses.


    After about half an hour, Eleanor politely excused herself. There was one more ce she needed to visit before leaving¡ªthe grave of her mother, Helena Langford Raynor. She walked alone through the quiet garden path to the small family cemetery behind the estate, the wind gently brushing her hair. The stone was simple, elegant. Eleanor stood silently for several minutes, lost in thought. Her lips moved slightly, perhaps in prayer, perhaps in a promise. Then, with a deep breath, she turned back toward her car and began the journey to Manchester.


    Seven dayster, news broke that Earl Walter Langford had been elected to the House of Lords. The announcement sent shockwaves through Birmingham¡¯s political circles. Many local politicians had written off the Langfords as a fading name¡ªrespected, yes, but no longer influential. They had only maintained public courtesies because the people of the region still admired the Langfords for their long history of humanitarian work.


    The most stunned among them was Councilor Louis Turner. He had maintained close ties with the Langfords in recent weeks but hadn¡¯t sensed even a whisper of this development. When he confronted Brian about it, the American simply shrugged and said, "If Eleanor Raynor is involved, then anything¡¯s possible."


    When Brian discovered that Eleanor¡¯s mother was the daughter of previous Earl Langford, he had been certain that the Langfords were destined to rise again.


    Louis, on the other hand, found himself in an unexpected predicament. His growing association with the Langfords and the development of Langford Park had already boosted his reputation. People began seeing him as a rising star, a strong candidate in the future politicalndscape. Whispers circted about him running for Member of Parliament from Birmingham. Some even asked him directly if he was nning to stand in the next election.


    It got him thinking. Perhaps he could ride the wave and board the Langford ship in time for the next election. But there was one problem... his current party was in power, while the Langfords aligned with the opposition. He wasn¡¯t sure how to switch sides without creating a scandal.

 Chapter 143: Traveling to Svalbard

    <h4>Chapter 143: Traveling to Svalbard</h4>


    When Louis Turner voiced his concerns to Brian, the American advised him to speak directly to Earl Walter Langford. "If you¡¯re serious, let the Earl know. Eleanor must¡¯ve nned something already," Brian said confidently.


    Louis did as advised. Walter, unsure how to respond, contacted Teresa for guidance. Teresa, in turn, consulted Juliette nc. After a brief discussion, Teresa called Louis back and gave him precise instructions: go to London and meet with the chairman of the opposition party to formally request a transfer.


    To Louis¡¯s astonishment, not only was he weed at the party headquarters, but the chairman himself organized a small weing ceremony. The photos from that event made their way into local news outlets, quietly spreading the event of his joining to the opposition party in political section.


    Shortly afterward, Louis was invited to meet the opposition leader of the parliament, Baron Anthony Hayward Chapman. After a brief but decisive meeting, the Baron personally assured Louis that he would receive the party nomination for the Birmingham constituency in the uing national election.


    The entire process was seamless... almost surreal. No resistance, no controversy, just quiet doors opening one after another.


    Back in Birmingham, Louis shared his whirlwind experience with Brian immediately.


    Brian simply grinned. "This is the opportunity I told you about back then. Remember?"


    Louis thought back to that day... the day when a panicked Brian couldn¡¯t leave the kingdom and hade face-to-face with a mysterious man in ck. So much had changed since then. He looked at Brian with a sense of gratitude and respect.


    Suddenly, without warning, Louis embraced him and said, "Thank you... for everything."


    Brianughed, patting him on the back. "Just don¡¯t forget who pointed you to the rising tide."


    ***


    On Brontes Ind, Erevan Brontes Lychos... the King of Werewolves, sat in silence, staring at hisputer screen with a deep frown. A feeling of dejection weighed heavily on his chest. For the past few days, he had resisted the urge, but today, the longing had be unbearable. He wanted to see his daughter¡¯s photo... anything recent, even the faintest sign of her in the world.


    Although he had a single portrait of her gifted by Sarika, he had memorized every detail on that canvas: the curve of her smile, the shade of her eyes, the glint of intelligence and elegance that defined her. But it wasn¡¯t enough. Hoping to find something new, he searched her name on the inte.


    To his utter dismay, the results were barren... no photos, no mentions, no online records. It was as if someone had scrubbed her entire digital footprint clean.


    "How protective can the Raynor n be?" he muttered bitterly. "They must love her dearly to go to such lengths."


    Ironically, his assumptions were nearly spot on... but with one key error. It wasn¡¯t the Raynor n who had done this. Eleanor herself had removed all trace of her identity from public records. She didn¡¯t want reminders of her tragic past, especially not ones that could resurface in the public eye. The past she carried was too heavy, too personal, and too painful.


    Still curious, Erevan called his secretary and requested detailed profiles of the Young Masters and Young Misses from the Ten Great ns. If he requested the files as a whole, no one would suspect that he was solely interested in one particr person. It was a clever ruse, a way to avoid raising eyebrows.


    "This way," he thought, "no one will guess my true motive. Eleanor will be left out of suspicion."


    A few minutester, his secretary entered and handed him a neatly bound file. After the man exited, Erevan immediately opened the report and flipped to Eleanor¡¯s profile.


    To his surprise, her file was unlike the others. Itcked the rich background information present in the rest. There was no mention of her human parents or her early life. The report began only from the day of her turning. It stated that Eleanor had been involved in an ident while pregnant. Ethan Raynor, a close friend, had turned her into a werewolf to save both her and the child. Strangely, during the transformation, she awakened the Elizabeth bloodline which was an incredibly rare urrence and the Raynor n had recognized her lineage almost immediately.


    Among werewolves, it was a powerful omen. An awakened bloodline during pregnancy was considered a divine blessing for the child. Moreover, the Elizabeth bloodline had nearly vanished. Aside from Fiona Elizabeth Raynor, there were no active members. With Eleanor¡¯s awakening, the Raynors were gifted another sessor. A potential heir. A beacon for the n¡¯s future.


    Eleanor had stayed in the Raynor n¡¯s pocket dimension for six months after giving birth, receiving rigorous training under several elders. Her bond with Ethan Raynor was unclear...neither romantic nor tonic, but the child called Ethan "father."


    Later, Fiona brought her into the surface world, and together they traveled across continents. Over the next two years, they trained, explored, andid the groundwork for Eleanor¡¯s future. Sheter moved to the United States and ventured into the tech sector. Within a short span, she became one of the youngest and most sessful entrepreneurs, establishing a global empire.


    Now, she was considered the wealthiest individual under thirty across both the human and supernatural worlds.


    The file Included a few rare photographs. Erevan smiled as he examined them, cherishing the new images of his daughter. He stared at each one with longing, tracing the lines of her face with his eyes.


    Eventually, he moved on to read the profiles of the other nine heirs. They were talented in their own right, each with detailed records of their upbringing, training, and achievements. Yet none captured his attention like Eleanor.


    Then, an idea sparked in his mind.


    Without hesitation, he picked up his phone and dialed Sarika Somavati Harivamsa.


    "I¡¯ve found a way to send Eleanor to the Yggdrasil trial," he said the moment she answered.


    Sarika paused. "You¡¯re serious?"


    "Yes. I just realized that five of the Ten Great ns have Young Masters who haven¡¯t undergone the trial yet. With the current imbnce in the supernatural world, it¡¯s time we act. Merfolk have resumed sea raids like in the age of piracy. In thest two years, they¡¯ve shed with vampires multiple times. Werehyenas, who once never left Africa, are now showing up in Europe and Asia. Even some Naga ns have migrated from the Indian Ocean, setting up shop in East Asia... territory we once dominated."


    He paused, then continued, "To face this hostile era, we need stronger leaders. ording to the inter-species agreement, we are allotted 100 slots for the Yggdrasil Trial every five years. We haven¡¯t used any in the past three years. I propose we use them now to strengthen the next generation."


    "You n to force the five Young Masters into the trial?" Sarika asked.


    "Yes," Erevan replied. "If I request ten candidates from each Great n and simply include the Young Masters among them, no one will suspect favoritism. And this way... I can finally see Eleanor again."


    Sarika considered this. "But won¡¯t it appear unfair to the lower ns?"


    Erevan paused. "What do you suggest?"


    "We haven¡¯t held anypetitions in years," Sarika said. "Each Great n can hold a trial. The top five from each n will automatically qualify. That¡¯s 50 slots. Add in the five Young Masters, and we have 55 filled. Then, we can organize a grand inter-npetition where the sixth to tenth-ce finishers from each Great n face off against representatives from the minor ns. From there, we select the remaining 45. The King can reward the top ten champions personally. It¡¯ll boost your poprity among the youth, and no one will see it as biased."


    Erevan smiled. "I like your thinking. Let¡¯s go with that. One more thing, can I personally attend the Raynor n¡¯spetition to award the champion?"


    "Only if you attend all the other n events too," Sarika warned. "If you visit just one, people will question your motives. Invite the other council members and visit them all. That way, no suspicion will fall on Eleanor."


    "Understood," Erevan said. "I¡¯ll also speak to Yggdrasil and the dragons first. I don¡¯t want any unpredictable reactions that could embarrass us."


    "Smart choice," Sarika replied.


    The call ended, and Erevan immediately summoned his secretary. "Arrange my travel to Litke Deep within an hour. I need to meet with Yggdrasil."


    The secretary moved fast. By the time Erevan finished bathing and dressing, everything was ready.


    A helicopter took him from Brontes Ind to Santorini International Airport, where his private jet awaited.


    As he boarded, his thoughts wandered. The flight was set for Longyearbyen Airport in Svalbard, the Norwegian archipgo in the Arctic Ocean. It was one of the northernmost inhabited ces on Earth, an icy realm of ciers, pr bears, and boundless wilderness.


    Svalbard was a frozen paradise: majestic mountains rising from the white ground, endless blue ice drifting in the sea, and sweeping tundra that bloomed with colors in the summer, only to disappear under snow in the endless Arctic winter. The seasons shaped its beauty... sunlit tundras, frozen fjords, and the magical auroras that danced in the night skies.


    Longyearbyen, the main settlement, had the only airport on the archipgo. As the jet soared through the skies toward the top of the world, Erevan sat silently, gazing out of the window.


    His thoughts were no longer with politics or trials. He was nning how to meet the daughter he never raised. How to see her without arousing suspicion. And how, perhaps, to make up for lost time... before it was toote.

 Chapter 144: Party at Head Over Heels

    <h4>Chapter 144: Party at Head Over Heels</h4>


    The sky stretched wide and clear over Manchester that Sunday morning, painted in strokes of pale blue and whispers of early sunlight. Birds chirped above the trees that lined the quiet street of Albany Road in Chorlton, but they were no match for the symphony ofughter, chatter, and the unmistakable rustle of excitementing from a crowd of small children and their mothers gathered just outside the gates of Head Over Heels.


    Twenty-five eager children from Heaton Mersey Independent School, boys and girls aged between five to six, who stood in colourful clusters, some bouncing on the balls of their feet, others clutching their friends¡¯ hands, and many eyeing the bright ss doors of the indoor y center with wide-eyed anticipation. Matching T-shirts in rainbow shades, each child¡¯s name printed boldly on the back, made the group look like a living rainbow ready to spill joy into the world.


    M Cooper, ss teacher of this small group, counted her students and smiled in satisfaction when she found everyone had arrived.


    "Alright, ss. Do not fight with each other over something. If you have any dispute among yourselves,e to me. The whole yground is reserved for us until evening. You will have plenty of time to y in each section," she said.


    "Yes, Miss Cooper!" all the children shouted at once.


    The students¡¯ mothers, all radiant with weekend ease and a spark of nostalgia, were no less enthusiastic. Some carried bags stuffed with snacks and water bottles; others had slung camera straps across their shoulders, ready to capture every grin and giggle. For weeks, they had nned this special day out... a full ss outing dedicated to unfiltered fun. The goal was to give the children a magical experience, where their imaginations could run wild and every corner held a new adventure.


    As the ss doors opened, a wave of cool, air-conditioned air rolled over the group, scented faintly with vani cupcakes, fresh coffee, and soft stic. A bubbly staff member named Sophie greeted them at the entrance.


    "Wee, HMIS! We¡¯ve been expecting you," she said cheerfully, handing out colourful wristbands. "You¡¯ve got ess to the full yZone, our dedicated Cloud Suite for lunch, and the Sky Terrace Caf¨¦. Let¡¯s make today unforgettable!"


    The children didn¡¯t need any more prompting. Klein Moretti, a yful boy with spiky brown hair, darted through the doors with a triumphant whoop.


    "Klein, wait!" shouted Irene Winters, her long ponytail swishing as she bolted after him. Several others followed, giggling and whooping as they entered the y zone like a pack of miniature explorers. Freya walked in calmly behind the others while holding hands with her mother.


    Inside, it was nothing short of a fantasy. The main y structure towered high... a tapestry of rope bridges, climbings, rainbow-coloured tunnels, padded steps, and twisty slides. Light panels shimmered on the walls, changing colours like mood rings. The air thrummed with the music of delighted children and the soft beat of background pop tunes.


    "What!" whispered Chelsey Morgan, clinging to her mother¡¯s hand. "It¡¯s like a castle!"


    "You mean a spaceship castle," corrected Damien Quinn, adjusting his sses and scanning the area like a junior scientist.


    The mothers were led to afortable seating area on the Sky Terrace. From there, they could sip cappinos while watching the organized chaos below. Floor-to-ceiling windows let sunlight pour in, and the cheerful chatter of their kids was music to their ears.


    "Okay, shoes off, wristbands on, and y to your heart¡¯s content!" announced Miss Cooper. "We¡¯ll meet again for lunch at twelve-fifteen. Don¡¯t forget to drink water!"


    And then, like a floodgate had opened, the children surged forward. The foam floor trembled under the energetic stampede. Zachary Han and Jason Reed headed straight for the climbing wall.


    "I bet I can get to the top faster!" shouted Zachary.


    "No way, I¡¯ve been practicing at home!" Jason retorted, grabbing onto the first hold.


    Jane Austen and Tamara discovered a hidden tunnel lined with soft rainbow lights. They giggled as they crawled inside, their voices echoing.


    "This is our secret base," whispered Tamara. "Let¡¯s make a rule... no boys allowed!"


    Across the hall, Tim Coulson and Lucy Chapman had taken over the pretend kitchen in the Imagination Zone.


    "Today¡¯s special is spaghetti with chocte sauce," Tim announced, cing a stic te in front of Sana.


    "I¡¯ll take two, and a side of marshmallow meatballs!" Lucy replied with a grin.


    In the ball cannon zone, Freddie Lambert and Jake Stewartunched foam balls with wild abandon.


    "Cover me!" Jake yelled as he ducked behind a padded wall.


    "I¡¯ve got you, Commander!" Freddie replied, spinning the cannon like a pro.


    Near the LED floor, an interactive game lit up, challenging kids to step on glowing tiles in sequence. A group quickly formed: Zara, Be, Henry, Sana, and Ravi.


    "It¡¯s Simon Says, but with your feet!" Zara cried.


    "Blue, yellow, green!" shouted Ravi.


    "No! Redes first!" Be corrected, jumping andughing.


    The energy was infectious. On the upper level, a twisty rainbow slide curled like a candy cane. One by one, the children climbed up and shot down, squealing with delight.


    "Mommy!" called Freya, waving at her mother from below.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t say anything, just waved back. Seeing her mommy was watching, Freya happily went to y with the others.


    On the Sky Terrace, the moms had settled in. Some sipped cappinos; others munched on almond croissants.


    "It¡¯s so nice to sit down and not worry about the mess," said Priya, Ravi¡¯s mother.


    "My living room looks like this every day," joked Charlotte, watching her son Jason somersault into the foam pit.


    They shared stories about school,ughed over parenting misadventures, and asionally leaned over the rail to snap pictures of their children in mid-leap.


    Meanwhile, the toddlers were unstoppable. From the bouncy trampolines to the squishy climbing volcano, every corner of Head Over Heels pulsed with joy.


    "Look, I¡¯m a ninja!" shouted Klein as he flipped onto a crash mat.


    "No, I¡¯m a robot ninja!" Liam added.


    The highlight of the morning was the zipline swing. Each child queued patiently for a turn under the guidance of the staff. As they zipped across the padded track, theirughter filled the air like bubbles.


    While the children were ying, two mothers came discreetly to Miss Cooper.


    "Miss Cooper, you know that we are not wealthy like others. Our children could only enrol in your school because of a schrship. You said earlier that we won¡¯t have to provide any money. If there is some problem, we can silently skip food to save the money. Here, food is too pricey," said Sana¡¯s mother.


    "Don¡¯t worry. Today¡¯s cost won¡¯t be that much. You don¡¯t have to pay. Someone will provide your share," said Miss Cooper.


    "If you don¡¯t mind, may I know who is paying our bill?" said Chelsey¡¯s mother.


    Miss Cooper said, "Although she asked me not to publicize the matter, I can tell you two. But don¡¯t tell others. It was Freya¡¯s mother. She booked this ce for the whole day with her own money and asked me that if anyone had a problem with the food cost, she would provide their share, as this ce is costly."


    Both women looked in the direction where a gorgeous woman sat elegantly, wearing a purple business suit as if she came to an office, not an outing. She was looking at the children ying below.


    From the beginning, she had behaved distantly to others. There were no smiles on her lips. She didn¡¯t participate in gossip or chat with other moms. Everybody greeted her at first because she was Freya¡¯s mother, and Freya was popr among children. But her cold behaviour signalled to others that she didn¡¯t like to chat, so they left her alone.


    Now, looking at the figure seated a slight distance from others, they thought otherwise. Maybe it was because she was in another league, way above their level. That¡¯s why she didn¡¯t like to gossip like others.


    After thanking Miss Cooper, they both went to greet Eleanor, as they hadn¡¯t spoken before. Even in the moms¡¯ online group, they had never seen herment.


    "Hello. I am Chelsey¡¯s mother. Chelsey is a good friend of Freya," said Dorothy Marlow.


    "I am Sana¡¯s mother. It¡¯s nice to meet you," said Susan Kerr.


    "It¡¯s nice to meet you too," Eleanor extended her hand to both women and shook their hands. She had heard all the exchange between the women and Miss Cooper and knew why they came. But she kept her face neutral as always.


    "I have seen your husband many times but met you today for the first time. You must be busy with your work. You both are so beautiful, like a match made in heaven," said Susan.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t say anything, just pursed her lips slightly. She didn¡¯t want to correct them. It mightplicate things for Freya. Besides, when she heard Ethan referred to as her husband, she felt a sensation in her stomach.


    Am I falling for him? her mind wandered.


    Dorothy said, "May I ask what your profession is? Don¡¯t mind me, I¡¯m just asking because your husband alwayses to drop and pick Freya from school."


    Eleanor said, "I work in apany."


    "We saw Freya¡¯s father. Is he the owner of Purplebricks Limited?" Dorothy said.


    "Yes," Eleanor replied casually.


    Susan said, "My husband and I both work at Miller Group. It¡¯s good to do business. They have a flexible work schedule. If one of us didn¡¯t have such a tight work schedule, then Sana¡¯s school time would be easier for us."


    Eleanor said, "Although businessmen have to do more work than employees, they have a flexible schedule. But you got it wrong... I alwayse to drop and pick Freya when I¡¯m in Manchester. It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t get out of the car."


    Although Eleanor¡¯s voice was still cold and detached, the two didn¡¯t mind her tone. They understood it was her normal tone. In fact, they were talking to her with gratitude.


    "Do you travel a lot?" Susan asked.


    "Not much. I have to go abroad sometimes for work. Otherwise, I spend most of my time with Freya," Eleanor said.


    "Do you work at your husband¡¯spany?" Dorothy asked.


    "No," Eleanor said.


    "Whichpany do you work at then?" Dorothy asked again.


    "Heimdall Technologies," Eleanor replied.


    "I applied at Heimdall a couple of months ago. Didn¡¯t get the job. They pay a higher sry than others. Which position are you in?" Dorothy said.


    Eleanor had no reason to hide. So, she replied, "I am the Chairman of Heimdall Technologies."


    As soon as she said that, both women froze in ce. They were speechless and felt funny thinking of their previous conversation. Luckily, Freya came to her mother at that time.


    "Mommy, I¡¯m thirsty," Freya shouted as she ran toward her.


    Eleanor calmly stood up, picked up her bag, and handed Freya her water bottle.


    Susan said, "I¡¯m going to see how Sana is doing." With that, both women hurried away.

 Chapter 145: A Day to Remember

    <h4>Chapter 145: A Day to Remember</h4>


    By noon, most of the children¡¯s cheeks were flushed with excitement, their clothes slightly rumpled from y, and their eyes sparkling with unfiltered joy. Laughter still echoed faintly through the yZone, but energy levels had clearly dipped.


    "Miss Cooper! I¡¯m hungry! Is it lunchtime yet?" Klein called out, panting and clutching his stomach dramatically.


    "Yes, and you all certainly earned it," Miss Cooper replied with a warm smile. "Let¡¯s head up to the Cloud Suite."


    The Cloud Suite was nothing short of magical... a private party room perched above the main y arena, painted in soft whites and sky blues, giving the illusion of dining among clouds. Hanging star-shaped lights twinkled softly overhead, while long child-sized tables were already set with paper cemats printed with cheerful doodles, rainbow-colored cutlery, and personalized water bottles bearing each child¡¯s name.


    The children rushed in, still buzzing with post-y adrenaline, but the instant the warm scent of food reached their noses, the chatter subsided and tiny feet slowed.


    "Pizza!" squealed Tamara, skipping toward the table with outstretched arms.


    "And chips! And nuggets!" Henry gasped, his eyes gleaming with glee as he pointed to each item like he¡¯d struck gold.


    A cheerful announcement echoed gently from the speakers:


    "Wee, HMIS! Please enjoy your lunch... freshly prepared just for you. Don¡¯t forget to hydrate after y!"


    Mothers guided their children into seats, adjusting napkins, straightening sleeves, and pouring out juice with practiced care. The kids¡¯ menu was a guaranteed hit: margherita pizza slices with bubbling cheese, crispy chicken nuggets, crinkle-cut fries dusted with paprika, soft mini veggie burgers, fresh apple slices, and vibrant cupcakes topped with blue frosting and shimmering sugar stars.


    The room soon filled with the sounds of munching, chatting, and happy sighs.


    "I slid down the big twisty slide five times," Jason boasted, holding up five sauce-covered fingers like badges of honour.


    "I climbed the volcano and touched the very top," Sana announced proudly, showing a tiny blister on her finger like it was a hard-earned medal.


    "Mama, can wee here every Sunday?" Zara asked, her mouth stuffed with fries and eyes full of hope.


    The mothers exchanged amused nces. Reema, Zara¡¯s mom, chuckled. "Let¡¯s see how tired you are tonight before we n our Sundays."


    On the moms¡¯ table, the vibe was just as pleasant. Their lunch was elegant yet light¡ªsmoked salmon bagelsyered with cream cheese and capers, leafy sds dotted with pomegranate seeds and goat cheese crumbles, buttery tarts filled with herbed mushrooms, and cappinos topped with frothy hearts.


    "I feel like I¡¯m on a mini-vacation," Olivia, Freddie¡¯s mother, sighed contentedly, swirling her t white.


    "Can¡¯t believe no one¡¯s spilled anything yet," Reema remarked with a chuckle.


    "They behave better here than at home," Charlotte noted. "I think Miss Cooper deserves all the credit."


    "Yes, they¡¯re more careful when in school settings. It¡¯s definitely her influence," Susan added, smiling toward the teacher.


    Just as the children were finishing their cupcakes, a staff member wheeled in a surprise... a DIY Sundae Bar. Gasps and cheers erupted around the room.


    Threerge trays of vani, chocte, and strawberry ice cream were surrounded by bowls brimming with toppings: fluffy marshmallows, rainbow sprinkles, syrupy chocte sauce, chopped nuts, jellybeans, and bright gummy bears.


    "It¡¯s a Sundae Station!" Henry screamed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Best... Day... Ever!"


    The line formed instantly. Freya stood on her toes to spoon exactly six gummy bears onto her bowl... no more, no less. Ravi focused like a sculptor, creating a precise tower out of scoops and sprinkles.


    Cameras shed as mothers captured the pure joy on their children¡¯s faces, the sticky cheeks and triumphant grins. After dessert, mothers gently wiped faces, fixed ponytails, and checked shoces. Sophie, the lead staff member, discussed the next schedule quietly with Miss Cooper before stepping into the center of the room.


    "Alright, who¡¯s ready for Round Two?" Sophie asked brightly.


    "Me!" all twenty-five voices chorused, arms flung into the air.


    Now refuelled and refreshed, the children charged back into the yZone, eager to conquer it all over again. This time, y took on a new tone... more coborative and imaginative.


    Under the watchful eyes of staff members, games evolved into storytelling adventures. The foam mountain became an active volcano, the dance pad turned into aunchpad, and the trampoline cave became a hideout for heroes.


    "We¡¯re secret agents," Be announced seriously, a paper straw tucked behind her ear like amunicator. "We have to rescue the treasure before theva rises!"


    "Team Dragon, move out!" Jake cried, leading his group across the rope bridge.


    In one corner, the LED dance floor began to glow and pulse with upbeat kids¡¯ music. A spontaneous dance-off began. Freya spun in dizzying circles while Lucy moved with graceful twirls. Henry invented a move that was half jump, half wiggle, leaving everyone in stitches.


    Elsewhere, a group of boys discovered the "Ninja Training Zone", a padded obstacle course with mini-beams, hanging ropes, and swinging bridges.


    "Time me!" shouted Liam, already mid-sprint.


    "Ready... one, two, three... GO!" Jake shouted, pretending to hold a stopwatch.


    Some mothers, no longer content to just watch, began removing their shoes and venturing in.


    "I¡¯m going in," Olivia announced with a gleam in her eye. "I want to see what this zipline hype is about."


    "Count me in too," said Charlotte, Tim¡¯s mother, stepping down from the lounge area.


    Soon, five moms were racing through the foam course, climbing walls and sliding down ropedders while their children cheered from the side-lines.


    By mid-afternoon, the whole group gathered once again in the Cloud Suite. Miss Cooper stood with a small velvet box in one hand and a microphone in the other.


    "Alright, everyone... thank you for being such a delightful group today. And now, as promised, it¡¯s time for our surprise raffle draw!"


    A chorus of "Ooooh!" rose from the children as they crowded closer.


    Miss Cooper continued with a wink, "But this time, it¡¯s for the moms. Because let¡¯s be honest... youdies deserve some fun too."


    One by one, Sophie reached into the box and pulled out names:


    Dorothy won a luxurious spa voucher. Olivia beamed as she received a basket filled with scented candles and essential oils. Susan pped as she got a bookstore gift card. And Priya smiled brightly at her delicate floral teapot set.


    Then came the grand prize... an elegant, porcin dinner set.


    "And the final winner is... Cleo Barrett! Irene¡¯s mother"


    Cleo gasped, hands over her mouth. "I never win anything!" she eximed, walking forward withughter.


    Apuse filled the room, and the children joined their mothers as the group posed under the balloon arch for a final photo.


    "Say cheese!" Sophie called.


    "Cheese!" everyone shouted, grinning wide.


    Sophie clicked the picture... a perfect snapshot of joy,munity, and memory.


    With shoes back on and cheeks glowing, the families began to file out of the suite. Hair tousled, fingers sticky with sugar, hearts full... the day hade to a perfect close.


    "Mum, can wee back next week?" Klein asked, already yawning against his mother¡¯s side.


    "Maybe for your birthday," she replied, nting a kiss on his forehead.


    Freya tugged on Eleanor¡¯s sleeve and whispered, "Can I invite all my friends again next time?"


    Eleanor bent low and smiled. "All twenty-five? We can. But you have to wait until after your end-of-term exams. If you do well, we¡¯ll hire a bus and explore somewhere even bigger."


    Freya beamed, her little heart brimming with dreams.


    Outside, the golden sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the pavement. Children clutched balloon animals and goody bags like treasures. The air was filled withughter, shared stories, and promises to meet again.


    ***


    When the king of werewolves, Erevan?Brontes?Lychos, reached Longyearbyen Airport, the region was in its season of endless daylight. A helicopter from the dragon n waited on the tarmac. As protectors of Yggdrasil... and the supreme race of Earth... only they have the authority to travel to the Litke Deep area, the sole known entrance to Kvernheim.


    Kvernheim is the subterranean city where Yggdrasil resides. Although the tree there is only a root and not the main trunk, it still holds immense significance for the. Dragons upy the settlement¡¯s outer ring as guardians, while fairies live in the inner circle to tend the root of Yggdrasil.


    Two dragons in human form greeted the werewolf king with respectful bows. For such a proud and powerful race, this was the greatest courtesy they would extend to another species. Erevan boarded the helicopter with his secretary and two guards; he brought norger escort, for within the dragons¡¯ domain no one would dare cause trouble.


    About half an hourter, the helicopter set down on a boundless sheet of ice... nothing but white as far as the eye could see. Once everyone disembarked, the helicopter lifted off again. There were no markers to identify the spot, and Erevan still wondered how the dragons could locate the entrance in this featureless expanse.


    The two dragons chanted in their native tongue and performed synchronized hand signs. An ethereal gate shimmered into view.


    "Lord?Lychos, after you," one of them said.


    Erevan stepped forward and vanished through the gate. His entourage followed. When thest of them had entered, the dragons passed through as well, and the gateway disappeared behind them.

 Chapter 146: The Center of the Earth

    <h4>Chapter 146: The Center of the Earth</h4>


    Kvernheim did not feel subterranean. It didn¡¯t even resemble a cavern. Above stretched a vast, open sky bustling with brilliant blue by day, deep indigo by night, shifting just as naturally as any sky above the surface. A sun and moon alternated in perfect harmony as if they were on surface world.


    Their cycles eerily synchronized with the daylight hours of the Dead Sea Shore along the Jordan¨CIsrael border. There was no scientific exnation for it, as it was only suspicion. Some supernatural schrs believed there might be a hidden gate to Kvernheim within the waters of the Dead Sea, but Yggdrasil had never opened that passage, if it even existed. No proof had ever been found.


    And so, the mystery persisted.


    If one didn¡¯t already know they were in an underground city, they would never guess it. Kvernheim appeared as a radiant and self-contained world. As it was a pocket dimension built around the sacred root of Yggdrasil. The tree itself was unmistakable, though it was technically only a root from the legendary World Tree. Still, it towered like a divine monument in the heart of the city, its bark streaked with glowing veins of gold and green. It¡¯s leaves shimmered high above, gently rustling despite theck of wind.


    Its leaves look like betel leaves, onlyrger and thicker. At the top of the tree, the leaves are smaller and crimson red. As they grow, they gradually change color, turning into a deep emerald green near the bottom. The leaves constantly glow, casting a radiant disy of colors over the surroundings.


    Beneath the foliage, glowing white veins descend from its golden bark, connecting to the ground around the tree.


    The tree¡¯s brilliant disy of colors makes it look like more than just a tree... it resembles a deity descended from the heavens. Even though supernatural beings don¡¯t believe in heaven or hell, the sight of the tree makes everyone feel as if heaven might truly exist.


    The tree stood at the center of a vibrant inner circle, a forest of immense beauty and peace. Tall, multicolored trees surrounded Yggdrasil like devotedpanions... some with silver leaves, others with blossoms of crimson,vender, or dusk-blue. Hidden within these trees lived the fairies, their homes seamlessly woven into branches and bark. From a distance, the dwellings were invisible and perfectly camouged within the foliage. Only when one drew close could the intricate architecture be seen: homes carved into bark, bridges of silk-thread spanning tree to tree,nterns that glowed with natural light like dew drops suspended in time.


    Yet, the fairies needed no tools to tend to Yggdrasil. Their very existence nurtured it. Each of them exuded a subtle healing aura... something that permeated the air, the soil, even the roots beneath the ground.


    On the other hand, living near the root of Yggdrasil... where Earth¡¯s energy was thickest and purest had sustained the fairies entirely. They required no food or drink. They lived on Earth¡¯s energy, and this was the best ce for them to be.


    Here, they thrived in it and gave back in equal measure. To them, Kvernheim was not just a home, it was heaven.


    Encircling the forest was the middle ring, the beating heart ofmerce in this mythical realm. Towering stone walkways and wide zas unfolded into a sprawling market district... a ce unlike any other on Earth. This was the only ce where one could legally and reliably purchase spirit medicines, enchanted weapons, spiritual armor, and other rare mystical items. Dragon merchants presided over shops of all kinds: some housed within marble halls, others in floating tforms of polished ckstone. Colorful banners fluttered with sigils denoting n allegiance, trade rating, and item grade. Here, shops both buy and sell items simultaneously.


    Restaurants served delicacies prepared from spirit beasts, offering food rich in spiritual energy, potent enough to nourish mages and shifters alike. There were hotels that tuned their rooms to an upant¡¯s core affinity, and meditation parlors where elemental energy flowed like music. It wasn¡¯t just what was sold here... it was how.


    Nowhere else on Earth boasted such a rigorous and respected appraisal system, making Kvernheim a global hub for high-tier trade. Even outsiders like other supernatural races or human cultivators visited thisyer, knowing they could deal in rare items with fairness and safety.


    The final ring or the outermostyer appeared to be a sprawling mountain range at first nce. Jagged peaks rose like a protective wall around the inner city. But these weren¡¯t just mountains, they were dragon dwellings. The massive creatures had carved their homes within the mountains, creating cave-nests that spiraled deep into the cliffs.


    From the outside, the structures resembled natural formations. Inside, they were fortified nests equipped with modern facilities: crystal-powered lights, voice-activated enchantments, temperature controls, and libraries of knowledge stored in rune-sealed memory stones.


    The dragons preferred seclusion, but their presence was a vital part of Kvernheim¡¯s bnce. Each peak had its guardian, and the guardians watched over the world. Though fierce and ancient, they had adopted the harmony of this city, choosing to live with restraint and wisdom rather than wrath. They served as both protectors and regtors, ensuring that Kvernheim remained safe from external threats and internal greed.


    As Erevan entered the city, he was just as amazed as he had been on his previous visit. Kvernheim never failed to surprise him with its eternal beauty and wonders.


    He had firste here with his father when he was young. Back then, he felt like a child thrown into a sea of candy. Years had passed; he had grown more experienced and wiser. His perspective might have changed, but his excitement and wonder remained the same.


    He took a deep breath and felt the purest air on Earth fill his lungs. Then he turned around to receive the others who had followed behind him. Once everyone arrived, two dragons took the lead and began walking through the forest toward the jagged peaks of the distant mountains.


    Erevan knew the drill, so he followed the dragons. Soon, they passed through the mountains and entered the city. A massive dragon flew overhead. Hispanions shivered at the sight and stared at the sky where the creature had disappeared.


    He urged them, "Don¡¯t fall behind. This ce is like a maze. Although you can see trees everywhere, if you don¡¯t follow the dragons, you¡¯ll get lost... even if you¡¯re heading in the right direction."


    Three of hispanions bowed and said, "Pardon us, My Lord. It won¡¯t happen again."


    As soon as they passed through the forest, a bustling city came into view. They saw all the supernatural races living harmoniously and working together. Vampires, Werewolves, Nagas, Werehyenas, and Merfolk walked the streets and worked in the shops. Some were in their human form, while others remained in their true form.


    Although there were restrictions that aside from the dragons no other race could open a business here, that didn¡¯t stop them from hiring workers from other races. This arrangement actually benefited the businesses, as most of the customers were from other races. Buyers often preferred shops where they couldmunicate with someone from their own race.


    The birthrate among dragons was very low. Although powerful, they were limited in number. It was said that nature itself kept the dragon birthrate low so that other races could live peacefully on Earth. After all, a dragon required a lot of food and a vast space to sleep.


    While most supernatural races preferred to stay in their human forms, dragons and fairies chose to remain in their true forms. It was said that because of this nature, they decided to stay hidden in this city and rarely ventured into the outside world.


    Fairies were a different case altogether. They didn¡¯t need to leave, as their ultimate pleasure and needs were fulfilled simply by remaining close to Yggdrasil. Although they could transform into human form, it was difficult for them. Among all races, their control over human form was the weakest.


    Other than these two races, most supernatural beings preferred to stay in human form during normal times. Werewolves, for example, remained in human form unless they needed extra strength for a fight or physical task. The same applied to others. This habit also helped them avoid breaking the supernatural convention of remaining hidden from humans.


    As soon as the surrounding werewolves saw their king walking through the bustling business district, they ced their hands over their hearts and bowed respectfully.


    Erevan nodded in acknowledgment as he followed the two dragons leading the way toward the inner circle.


    One of his guards whispered in surprise to another, "Howe there are so many werewolves here? We had to be escorted by dragons... how could they enter?"


    The other replied, "You don¡¯t know?" Then he exined, "There¡¯s an Exploration Society in Svalbard. It¡¯s run by dragons and works like a human embassy. Other races apply there to visit Kvernheim. Just like a visa process, when the dragons approve the application, they bring them here in batches."


    He paused, then added, "Most beings in the supernatural world don¡¯t have ess to pocket dimensions. Theye here to train and progress. Even those who do have their own pocket dimensionse here to break through. The spiritual energy here is denser than anywhere else. After all. it¡¯s the home of Yggdrasil."


    The first guard said, "Now I understand. But what do the dragons gain from all this?"


    The other replied, "Simple. Anyone whoes here has to pay for food and lodging. The dragons own everything. While we have many businesses in the human world, dragons rely entirely on tourism."


    Erevan cut in, "Stop talking. We¡¯re almost there."


    Just as his voice reached the guards¡¯ ears, the two dragons ahead of them suddenly stopped.


    "Lord Lychos," one of them said, "you must proceed on your own. We do not have permission to enter the inner circle. Yourpanions must stay with us. Only you have been summoned by Lord Yggdrasil."

 Chapter 147: Bad News

    <h4>Chapter 147: Bad News</h4>


    Erevan Brontes Lychos stood before an archway made entirely of living vines. Its structure pulsed with life, its thick green cords braided into an elegant curve. Small, multicolored flowers blossomed from it, swaying gently even in the absence of wind, exuding a soft floral scent that made the entire passage feel dreamlike... an otherworldly threshold between realms.


    He paused briefly, awed despite having seen this ce before. This was the entrance to the Inner Circle of Yggdrasil, the sacred core where the world tree anchored its roots deep into the Earth¡¯s soul.


    This was his fourth time passing through.


    The first had been during his youth, led by his father Damon Brontes Lychos, who had brought him here to be introduced as the heir apparent. It was a solemn rite, one he remembered vividly.


    The second was for his Ascendant Trial... the trial that allowed an awakened to step into ascendance, gaining greater power and build spiritual core inside the body.


    The third visit had been purely for training purposes, seeking opportunities in the other world for advancement of ascendant level.


    But today was different.


    Today, Erevan was not a crown prince or a heir apparent.


    He came as the King of Werewolves... not yet crowned in ceremony, but already reigning in power. His rule, though recent, had already begun and spread throughout the supernatural world.


    He instructed his entourage to wait outside the boundary and walked forward alone. As he passed through the vine-gate, a subtle shimmer wrapped around him, and the air grew warmer, richer. The bustling life of the outer realm faded behind him.


    Fairies flitted past... radiant beings with transparent wings likerge dragonflies and halos of light over their brows. Some carried scrolls. Others swept pollen across floating blossoms, or gathered dew into crystal sks. None paid Erevan any attention, for they knew none could enter this sacred ground without Yggdrasil¡¯s permission. If he stood here, it was because the world tree allowed it.


    Then, a voice echoed... not through his ears, but within his mind.


    "Erevan Brontes Lychos, son of Damon Brontes Lychos. King of Werewolves. Close your eyes, and walk forward."


    It was Yggdrasil whomunicated through mind. The ancient voice was serene yet immense, like the deep hum of the cosmos.


    Erevan obeyed. He closed his eyes and moved forward step by step. The ground under his feet felt soft and warm, like moss kissed by starlight. A sense of timelessness overcame him... he no longer felt his heartbeat, nor the weight of his limbs.


    Then the voice returned.


    "Stop. Open your eyes."


    He did and looked around in awe. Before him stood the colossal trunk of Yggdrasil. Its bark shimmered like gold-veined mahogany, and its roots pulsed with the colors of life: blue, green, gold, and white. The branches high above disappeared into clouds of starlight, where they were emitting emerald green glow.


    Erevan bowed in respect, his voice steady and full of reverence.


    "Lord Yggdrasil, thank you for granting me this audience."


    "There is no need for such formality, King of Werewolves," the tree replied through their mental link. "You know the protocol. Choose a vine that resonates with you."


    Erevan stepped closer and reached for a vine that came down from above branches and glowed with gentle white light. As he touched it, the vine responded, releasing countless threadlike tendrils that extended and wrapped around him gently, as if encasing in mother¡¯s womb.


    In a heartbeat, his body was cocooned in white light. He no longer stood in the grove... but floated in a boundless white void.


    Here, Yggdrasil¡¯s consciousness would merge with his memories. It was more thanmunication... it wasmunion. The tree didn¡¯t simply listen. It experienced his whole life.


    Then, the voice returned.


    "Congrattions on finding your daughter! With the inheritance of your strong bloodline, she might be a great asset to the bnce we strive for."


    "Thank you," Erevan responded, humbled.


    "Your decision to use all one hundred slots at once is bold... and logical, given the urgency of your heart. However, ites with a great cost. If some exceptional talents are born in the next two centuries, there will be no remaining slot for them."


    Erevan paused. He hadn¡¯t thought that far. His excitement had blinded him to the long-term implications.


    "You¡¯re right. I should have considered the broader consequences. I apologize."


    "No apology is needed," Yggdrasil said. "Your timing, in fact, is impable. I was already preparing to summon the races to send their young elites for trials. I¡¯ve informed the dragons. There were some unforeseen events in Molgrath, the skeleton armies have been attacking relentlessly. The dwarves are struggling against them and asked for reinforcement. Other regions also faced increasing pressure past few weeks."


    "So the trials are more than just preparation?" Erevan asked. "They¡¯re a necessity?"


    "Indeed. An Ascendant army will be our best response. Skeletons are weak, yes... but in numbers they could overwhelm any region. The enemy doesn¡¯t rest. Nor do they fear death. We need to send ascendant fighters in numbers to counter them. I will also send some powerful ascendants from Earth as mentors to guide them."


    After hearing Yggdrasil¡¯s words, Erevan nodded in agreement. The n was bold, but he could see its potential. There were still many powerful ascendants living in the various pocket dimensions scattered across Earth. If Yggdrasil could send some of them to apany this newly emerging generation of ascendants to Molgrath, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement. The older ascendants might finally have the opportunity to break through their bottlenecks and limits, while their experience and strength would provide security and mentorship for the young bloods. In the battlefield of Molgrath, they would grow faster and stronger together.


    "I understand," Erevan said thoughtfully. "But sending such arge number of ascendants to Molgrath... won¡¯t that put a strain on you?"


    Yggdrasil replied, "The number of ascendants who have visited Molgrath inst few centuries was negligible. I still possess more than enough energy to facilitate the teleportation and oversee the trials. What I require now is faster response from your side."


    After a brief pause, Yggdrasil added, "You may send eighty of your most promising young werewolves for the trial. The dragons will inform the other races shortly. You should begin preparations immediately. I will be waiting."


    Erevan bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you for your kindness and trust."


    When Erevan emerged from the inner circle through the living archway, hispanions were waiting along with the two dragons brought them here. One of the dragons, a tall male with shimmering sapphire scales, stepped forward and addressed him respectfully.


    "Lord Lychos, your amodation has been arranged in a vi near the business district. Tomorrow, there will be an auction featuring several valuable items. We would be honored if you would attend."


    Erevan smiled and replied, "Thank you for your hospitality and the information. I will certainly attend the auction. It would be helpful if you could arrange tickets for me and mypanions as well."


    The dragon bowed slightly. "Certainly, Lord Lychos. We will deliver your passes to the vi. If there is anything else you require, do not hesitate to inform the guards stationed there. They are at your service."


    With that, the dragons led Erevan and his party to their temporary residence. The vi was luxurious yet grounded in natural elements¡ªcrafted from smooth white stones with crystalline windows that filtered sunlight in warm hues. Its design blended ancient harmony with modern elegance.


    After settling in, Erevan changed into a more casual outfit and stepped out into themon room. He found hispanions already waiting for him, excitement in their eyes.


    They all wished to visit the nearby market district. They hoped to buy some gifts and keepsakes for their families or friends back home.


    Fortunately, the market wasn¡¯t far. After a short ten-minute walk they arrived at the business district. The streets buzzed with life. Stalls lined the avenues, and the aroma of incense, rare herbs, and roasted meats filled the air. People from various supernatural races bartered,ughed, and haggled in dozens ofnguages.


    For the next two hours, Erevan and his team browsed the shops. Erevan purchased unique souvenirs based on what he knew of his council members¡¯ tastes. Thoughtful gifts like this often went a long way in building loyalty and trust.


    He also secured several enchanted items... small but powerful tools, talismans, and protective charms... which he intended to present as prizes for the winners of the uing werewolf npetitions.


    Enchanted items held critical importance for anyone heading into another world. Only items imbued with spiritual or mystical properties could pass through the teleportation gates. Non-magical belongings would simply be left behind. Even one¡¯s clothing needed to be enchanted; otherwise, the traveler would arrive at the other world... without anything at all.


    Because of this, newly ascended warriors often scrambled to acquire spiritual clothing, weapons, and essories.


    But thereiny the problem... such items were rare and extremely expensive. No races on Earth had the skills to produce them. In the other world, the dwarves were legendary for their creation of enchanted armor and weapons. Other races there specialized in alchemical pills, formation tes, scrolls, spiritual medicines, or charms.


    Fortunately for Erevan, werewolves were among the wealthiest of the supernatural races. Even after spending what most would consider a fortune, Erevan was far from broke. In fact, he was waiting to find some good items in next day¡¯s auction.


    Later that evening, one of the two dragons arrived at their vi to deliver the tickets.


    "Your party has been assigned to VIP Box Number Two," the dragon informed them. "The box seats up to ten individuals and grants you private ess to the venue. There¡¯s no need for additional entry passes."


    The next morning, Erevan and his party dressed in formal attire and set off for the auction house named Elysium.


    When they arrived, the entrance of the venue were already packed with people from all walks of the supernaturalmunity. Long lines formed at the gate as guards checked invitations and conducted magical scans.


    However, as VIP guests, Erevan¡¯s party bypassed the line entirely. They were escorted through a side entrance designated for staff member and VIP guests.


    Inside, the atmosphere was electric. From the murmurs of those around them, they quickly learned why the crowd was so massive.


    A Heaven-grade armor was suddenly added to today¡¯s list of auctioned items. Naturally, dragons sent invitations to every major power and they in turn had sent representatives. And everyone came to Elysium eager topete for that one rare artifact.

 Chapter 148: The Vest of the Mytherial Moon

    <h4>Chapter 148: The Vest of the Mytherial Moon</h4>


    The invitation clearly stated that all guests must remain in their human forms during the auction unless absolutely necessary. This was a standard rule in gatherings of the supernaturalmunity, as every supernatural being on Earth had two forms... human and true. In their true forms, some beings were enormous, like dragons, while others, like Nagas, were long and serpentine. Their varied shapes made seating arrangements difficult. For the sake of uniformity and convenience, the human form was preferred at all official events.


    As Erevan entered the auction house, his sharp eyes quickly spotted Fiona Elizabeth Raynor. She was just about to enter VIP Box 4, but paused when she also noticed him. With graceful poise, she walked over, bowed slightly, and greeted, "Greetings, My Lord. I wasn¡¯t expecting to see you here."


    Erevan returned the nod. "I came to see if anything interesting is up for auction. What about you? Do you have your eye on something specific today?"


    Fiona smiled lightly. "I attend their monthly auctions several times a year. I¡¯m a VIP member here. The auction house sent me a message yesterday stating that some rare and valuable items would be up today. I just arrived in Kvernheim and came straight here."


    At that moment, a familiar, yful voice came from behind Erevan. "It seems today¡¯s auction will be quite the spectacle."


    They turned to see Vasuki Prabhas Nagavanshi, the King of the Nagas, arriving on the second floor through the stairs where the VIP boxes were located. He gave a courteous nod and greeted them both. "Greetings, King of Werewolves and Lady Raynor. It¡¯s a pleasure to see you here."


    Erevan smiled. "Good to see you too. I heard one of your ns has relocated to the Philippines. That region is under our Cordillera n¡¯s jurisdiction. Please make sure they don¡¯t create conflict. I¡¯d rather not have to intervene."


    Prabhas chuckled. "No need to worry, Werewolf King. My people prefer the seas, your people live in the mountains... they won¡¯t cross paths. I¡¯ve already instructed them to respect territorial boundaries."


    Erevan nodded approvingly. "Thank you. That¡¯s reassuring."


    Then Prabhas turned to Fiona. "I recently signed a business contract with your n. I hope you don¡¯t mind that I didn¡¯t go through you."


    Fiona waved it off. "I heard something about it from Eleanor when she visited India. But it¡¯s her business. I don¡¯t interfere unless she asks for advice. Whatever she does has my full support... even if it brings war."


    Prabhasughed. "You must really spoil your granddaughter."


    "She¡¯ll lead the Raynor n one day," Fiona replied with pride. "Better she learn while I¡¯m still around to fix her messes."


    Erevan¡¯s interest was piqued when Eleanor came up in their conversation. But they soon moved on to other topics, and with the auction about to begin, the three retreated to their respective VIP boxes.


    Almost thirty minutester, Erevan was seated in VIP Box 2 when the event officially started. A tall, well-dressed auctioneer from the Dragon race walked onto the stage in his human form and weed the attendees.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, wee to this month¡¯s Elysium Auction. I know many of you are here for specific treasures, so let¡¯s begin without dy."


    He gestured toward the side of the stage as a stunning young woman with slightly blue skin entered, carrying a silver tray. Her figure was wless, elegant in every way. Clearly, she was a merfolk in human form.


    "Our first item," the auctioneer announced, "is an Earth-grade defensive talisman. Crafted by a renowned Molgrath wizard, this talisman provides strong resistance against ghosts, wraiths, and other vengeful spirits."


    The merfolk assistant gently ced the tray on the table and pulled away a red cloth to reveal a golden talisman etched with glowing runes.


    "This item has been thoroughly inspected by our in-house experts and deemed authentic. For those attending for the first time, know this: at Elysium, authenticity is guaranteed. If we cannot confirm an item¡¯s origin, we do not ce it up for auction."


    He took a short pause before announcing, "The starting bid is 1 million dors. Minimum increment is 100,000 dors."


    Within moments, the first bid shed on the screen: $1.2 million.


    In each seat, a small digital panel allowed attendees to enter their bid. No shouting, no raised signs... everything was discreet and efficient. The screen updated rapidly as the bids climbed higher. Within minutes, the talisman sold for $5.2 million.


    "Sold!" the auctioneer dered.


    Then the auctioneer said again, "Now, we move on to our second item. This is a sword with an ice attribute. For those with ice-based abilities, this weapon offers a ten percent bonus to attack power while wielded. The starting bid is 500,000 dors and bidding increments are set at 50,000 dors."


    Another young woman from the merfolk n stepped onto the stage, carrying the sword delicately on a velvet-lined tray. Her posture was graceful, and her attire shimmered faintly under the lights, adding a ceremonial ir to her appearance. She ced the tray on the central pedestal and stepped back, allowing the spotlight to shine fully on the gleaming de.


    The sword itself looked beautifully forged... its silver-blue de radiated a faint chill in the air, as if it carried winter with it.


    Biddingmenced immediately. The audience seemed eager, and within minutes, the price had jumped to over a million dors. Erevan, however, showed no interest in this particr weapon. He had something else in mind.


    As the auction continued, Erevan ced a few discreet bids. He sessfully acquired a rare moonstone tea set known for its soothing spiritual aura, a selection of pills tailored to various elemental enhancements, and a rare dimensional storage ring... one that could automatically adjust to the wearer¡¯s finger size, making it a perfect gift for a future n champion.


    More than an hour passed before the atmosphere in the room shifted noticeably.


    Two strikingly beautiful young women from the Naga n entered the stage, each carrying one side of arge, square-shaped object draped in a heavy ck cloth. Their movement was deliberate, and their regal posture drew the attention of everyone in the hall. After setting the object carefully on the disy table, they stepped to the sides and stood in silent reverence.


    The auctioneer¡¯s voice took on a more dramatic tone.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you¡¯ve been waiting for has arrived. I present to you the final item of today¡¯s auction... an item so rare, so exceptional, it has never before appeared on Earth."


    He paused, allowing suspense to thicken in the room.


    "This... is a piece of history."


    He paced slowly in front of the covered item, continuing his story. "Centuries ago, a member of the Dragon race rescued a young Elven princess of Molgrath from a troll ambush. In gratitude, the Elven king bestowed upon the dragon a priceless treasure... an armour that became part of her legacy. Since then, it has passed down through generations, guarded with reverence by her descendants."


    There was a slight murmur in the audience.


    "But due to recent and unforeseen circumstances," he continued, "the lineage has chosen to part with this treasure. And today, for the first time, they offer it not for coin... but through barter."


    The crowd grew quiet. Whispers rippled like wind through the hall.


    The auctioneer exined, "Unlike traditional bidding, this auction will operate via proposal. The owner is seeking an item with healing properties... something rare and powerful, worthy of this armour¡¯s legacy. If your item interests the current owner, you will win the armour in exchange. The value of the item is subjective. Grade matters less than purpose."


    He nced across the room before continuing. "We understand that many of you may not have brought your treasures here today. That¡¯s not a problem. Simply submit a written proposal describing the healing properties of the item you wish to offer. You are not required to reveal its exact name, form, or n origin... just describe what it does."


    Several auction staff members moved through the hall, distributing pens and sealed parchment slips to those who raised their hands. Some of them wouldn¡¯t have dared to bid if it were a mary auction, but now they happily raised their hands to ce their bids, hoping they might have a chance.


    A vampire seated In the gallery stood up and asked, "Mr. Auctioneer, how will we know if our items are of equal value to the armour?"


    The auctioneer replied, "You don¡¯t... and that is the point. This isn¡¯t about grading or pricing. The exchange depends entirely on the owner¡¯s judgment. If your proposal interests her, regardless of rank or rarity, she will ept. And you will walk away with a Heaven-grade armour."


    He let that sink In before proceeding. "But before you make your offer, let me tell you a bit about this armour."


    He turned and ced one hand on the draped object. "This armour was made by a coboration between the Elves and the Dwarves... a rare event in itself. It is said to be the only one of its kind ever created. Not because of technical limitations or inter-racial strife, but because the materials used are born only once every thousand years... when the three moons of Molgrath align perfectly in the night sky."


    "It is said," the auctioneer went on, "that wearing this armour is not just to be protected... but to walk in the favour of the stars themselves. Even the dragons, in all their might have tried to w through it. And they failed."


    He uncovered the item in one go and gestured grandly with both arms. "Ladies and gentlemen, let me have the honour of presenting to you... the strongest armor currently known to exist on Earth... The Vest of the Mytherial Moon."

 Chapter 149: Corelight Sigil

    <h4>Chapter 149: Corelight Sigil</h4><subtxt> As the auctioneer removed the silk cover, gasps of curiosity and anticipation rippled through the grand hall. On the overhead screens, the object was broadcast in high resolution for every guest in the hall to get a clearer view.


    Beneath the crimson cloth sat a transparent crystal-ss case. Inside it, was the upper torso of a female mannequin, elegant and smooth. Draped over the mannequin was a sleeveless vest that, at first nce, appeared deceptively in.


    It didn¡¯t gleam like gold, nor shimmer like enchanted steel. Instead, it had the muted shine of brushed silver, almost like dim moonlight caught in cloth. It looked thin... soft even. Some guests exchanged puzzled looks, clearly unimpressed.


    Those who had waited eagerly for the grand finale of the auction now wore expressions of disappointment. "Was this the rumoured legendary item?" was the question on their minds.


    The auctioneer, sensing the atmosphere shift, raised his hand and said, "I understand your initial reaction. It looks in, unassuming even. But that, my friends, is one of its greatest strengths."


    He gestured dramatically toward the vest and continued, "What you are seeing is not an ordinary piece of armour. This is the Vest of the Mytherial Moon. Certified by our most trusted experts, this armour is woven from Mytherial Silk, a near-extinct material crafted from the threads of the elusive Astral Moths... creatures found only in the Valley of the Thousand Stars in the dark realm of Molgrath."


    The screen zoomed in on the texture of the vest, revealing the intricate weaves within.


    "To the touch, it feels like satin. But strike it with steel, w, or spell... the fibers tighten, transforming into a barrier harder than any known alloy from Earth or the other worlds."


    Murmurs spread among the audience.


    "This vest doesn¡¯t rely on bulky ting oryered leather. It¡¯s light, flexible, and adapts to the wearer¡¯s body. It enhances your mobility... you can fight, run, dance, or train with ease. The threads are woven with ancient arcane runes, which resonate with the wearer¡¯s spiritual aura and provide tailored resistance to iing attacks. ording to our tests, no weapon below Heaven Grade can pierce it."


    Gasps and rustles of surprise now echoed through the crowd.


    The auctioneer paused briefly, then his tone turned serious.


    "However, there is one crucial caveat. This vest only activates its protective enchantments when worn by females. We do not yet understand the reason, but males and gender-neutral beings will not be able to trigger its full potential."


    A ripple of confusion passed among the attendees.


    "The vest has been thoroughly tested," the auctioneer assured them. "It is not broken, nor is it cursed. It is simply... selective."


    He nodded toward the waiting auction staff.


    "We will be epting bids now. But there will be a alteration... this item cannot be purchased with money. The seller is seeking an item of equal rarity... specifically, something with healing properties. Something that cannot be found on the open market."


    Around the room, many raised their hands. Auction staff moved efficiently, distributing parchment and pens to those interested.


    Each guest scribbled down their offer and seat number, then sealed their bid and handed it back.


    In VIP Box 2, Erevan Brontes Lychos stared at the screen in thought. The vest was perfect... lightweight, elegant, and powerful. It would make an ideal gift for his daughter. But what healing item did he possess that could impress a dragon?


    The seller was clearly not amon collector. No ordinary elixir or restoration potion would do. After long contemtion, Erevan pulled out his phone and called Sarika Somavati Harivamsa.


    She picked up after the second ring. "My Lord, I was busy with other things."


    "I need your insight," Erevan said. "There¡¯s a Heaven Grade armor in this auction... a vest that would suit a girl perfectly. But the seller refuses money. They¡¯re asking for a healing item... something that would interest them regardless of grade."


    He exined everything in detail, including the item¡¯s properties and the seller¡¯s requirements.


    Sarika fell silent for a few seconds.


    "I see... then there are several things we must consider carefully," she said atst. "First, the seller is a dragon. That alone narrows the possibilities. Dragons already have ess to the most powerful healing herbs, elixirs, and ancient fairy remedies known on Earth."


    She continued, "Second, dragons don¡¯t fear death the way humans do. They live for millennia and ept death when the timees. Which means... this isn¡¯t about extending life. This is about curing something. An illness or poison."


    Erevan nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the ss-encased vest.


    Sarika said, "Third, if a dragon is seeking help from Earth, then the ailment must not be from here. I suspect it came from Molgrath... perhaps something alien to our naturalws. Something the fairies and alchemists haven¡¯t seen before."


    "You¡¯re thinking... poison?" Erevan asked.


    "Maybe. Or something worse," Sarika replied gravely. "If a dragon has fallen ill, the poison must be extremely potent and injected in a quantity most creatures can¡¯t even produce. Which makes one possibility very real... the dragon¡¯s soul might have been tainted by the Abyss."


    Erevan¡¯s heart sank. "That would exin why even fairies couldn¡¯t help."


    She sighed. "Exactly. But I might have a solution."


    "You do?" His voice perked up.


    "In our ancient temple," she said slowly, "there lies an ancient relic... the Corelight Sigil. It¡¯s a soul-restructuring artifact. It was once used by our ancestors to rebuild damaged souls. It can purge foreign entities, including abyssal corruption, from one¡¯s soul entirely."


    Erevan¡¯s breath caught. "That could work."


    "But there¡¯s a cost," Sarika warned. "It consumes one thousand low-grade spiritual crystals, or an equal amount of spiritual energy. And... it has a side effect. The person may lose fragmented memories in the process. Never their essence, never their identity... but some memories could vanish."


    Erevan absorbed the information. "And you¡¯re willing to use it?"


    "Yes. But only if the deal is worth it. I do not want the name ¡¯Corelight Sigil¡¯ spread across the realms," she said firmly. "Tell them only this: ¡¯You know someone who can perform a ritual to reconstruct the soul, restoring purity and banishing all foreign influences. The ritual preserves essence, but some memory loss is possible. In exchange, they must offer you the vest and the energy required for the rite.¡¯"


    Erevan nodded. "I¡¯ll present it carefully."


    "Good," she said. "I trust you¡¯ll handle it with the secrecy it demands. If it truly is an abyss-tainted soul, this might be theirst hope."


    After ending the call with Sarika, Erevan took a deep breath and called for the staff member waiting outside the VIP box. The attendant entered promptly, bowing with practiced courtesy.


    "At your service, my Lord," he said.


    "I need a pen and some paper," Erevan requested.


    The staff member nodded and swiftly handed him the required items. Without wasting time, Erevan wrote down his offer in clear, decisive script. His handwriting, although elegant, bore the unmistakable weight of urgency.


    "An ancient soul-purification ritual, capable of restoring a tainted dragon soul. Guaranteed to eliminate all abyssal corruption. No side effects on essence, but minor memory loss may ur. Ritual requires one thousand low-grade spiritual crystals. I will offer this in exchange for the Vest of the Mytherial Moon."


    After finishing, he folded the parchment neatly and sealed it with the provided wax. He handed it over to the staff.


    "Please deliver this to the auctioneer at once," he instructed.


    The staff member bowed again and exited the room.


    More than ten minutes passed. In that brief silence, everyone in Erevan¡¯s entourage sat tensely, ncing at one another, each wondering if his bid would make the cut. Finally, the auctioneer¡¯s voice echoed throughout the hall once again.


    "We have now concluded the final round of this month¡¯s Elysium Auction," he announced.


    A brief pause followed before he continued.


    "VIP Boxes 2, 4, and 8, as well as Seat Numbers 57, 148, and 293, are requested to meet with the item¡¯s owner backstage for further discussion. All other offers have been respectfully declined by the seller."


    A murmur ran through the crowd as the selected parties were announced.


    The auctioneer smiled faintly and added, "Ladies and gentlemen, this concludes the Elysium Auction for this month. Thank you for your participation. Winners may proceed backstage to make payments and collect their respective items. We hope to see you again next month."


    With that, he stepped down from the stage and vanished behind the curtain.


    Inside Erevan¡¯s box, a thoughtful silence settled over the room.


    He was just beginning to consider his next steps when a polite knock came at the door.


    "Enter," Erevan said calmly.


    A staff member walked in, bncing several finely-decorated boxes. He bowed and announced, "My Lord, I¡¯ve brought the items you sessfully won during the earlier sessions. Please inspect them at your leisure. You mayplete payment via card or by transferring directly to our auction ount."


    Erevan nced at his secretary, who nodded and promptly stepped forward. She produced a sleek, ck tinum card and handed it to the staff member. With another respectful bow, the attendant epted the card and exited.


    While the secretary processed the payment, the others in the room began opening the boxes. Erevan personally examined each item. All were pristine, carefully packed with soft cushioning and magical seals to preserve their condition.


    Just as they finished checking the items, another knock came.


    This time, it was Fiona, another notable figure among the VIP guests. She stepped in and gave a formal bow.


    "My Lord," she said respectfully, "I wasn¡¯t aware you had ced a bid on the final item. I offer to forfeit my bid in your favor if you so desire."


    Erevan smiled politely, his gaze calm.


    "There¡¯s no need for that," he said gently. "We still don¡¯t know exactly what the owner is looking for. If your offer ends up being selected, you can sell the item to me afterward. I have no intention of forcing a result."


    Fiona nodded, a trace of admiration flickering in her eyes. "As you wish. I simply wished to show courtesy."


    With that matter settled, Erevan rose from his seat.


    "Well then, shall we?" he said.


    Fiona and the others with him fell into step as they made their way out of the room. Together, they headed toward the backstage meeting chambers to meet the seller.</subtxt>

 Chapter 150: The Dragons

    <h4>Chapter 150: The Dragons</h4>


    The owner of the Vest of the Mytherial Moon was none other than the Grand Elder of the dragons. She was a female dragon who had lived on Earth for several millennia and was the oldest among the elders of the Dragon Council.


    Dragons, though powerful, were fewer in numberpared to other supernatural races. They did not have ns like werewolves or vampires; rather, they lived as a united family. A governing council managed their affairs both internally and in rtion to the outside world. This council wasposed of the ten most powerful dragons, each known as an Elder. Among them, one was chosen as the leader of the dragons. While the Grand Elder was not the most powerful, she was the most respected due to her age, wisdom, and because she was the mother of the current Dragon Leader.


    In ancient times, dragons roamed freely across the world. They required vast amounts of food and expansive territories to survive. Over time, their numbers declined for various reasons, chief among them being a low birth rate and food scarcity. When Yggdrasil offered them sanctuary, many migrated to Kvernheim. This underground haven provided everything needed for the survival of each dragon type. They settled throughout the outer regions of Kvernheim, choosing habitats suited to their origins and nature.


    The Horned Dragons of North America originally dwelled in thekes and cold rivers of Canada and the northern United States. These serpentine dragons had polished stone-like scales, two powerful hind legs, and no wings. Their twin ivory horns curled majestically from their heads, symbols of their aquatic supremacy. Though flightless, they reigned supreme in water,manding fog, currents, and rainstorms. Known for their calm demeanor, they were rarely aggressive but devastating when provoked.


    From China¡¯s misty mountains came the Long Dragons. Ancient and wingless, they glided through the skies like clouds drifting in wind. Their elongated bodies shimmered with scales of gold, green, or blue. Adorned with flowing whiskers and antler-like horns, they controlled wind and weather with ease. Monsoons, tempests, and clear skies bowed to their will. High-altitude mountain peaks, sacred groves, and floating stone tforms were once their homes, hidden from the human eye.


    Ryujin Dragons, hailing from Japan, ruled the oceans from the deep. Their scales mirrored the sea¡ªteal, indigo, and ck¡ªand often bore coral, seaweed, and barnacles. Their glowing red eyes pierced the ocean gloom. With long, muscr bodies and no wings, theymanded tides and marine weather. Capable of sinking fleets or calming tsunamis, they once lived in submerged pces near undersea ridges and volcanic vents. In Kvernheim, they now inhabit a vast volcanicke.


    The Imoogi Dragons of Korea were massive, wingless serpents with no limbs. Their iridescent scales shifted colors with the light, and luminous horns crowned their heads. Unique among dragons, Imoogis were evolving beings. Only upon reaching the ascendant level and crossing into the other world did they attain their full form. They dwelled near sacred rivers, storm-battered cliffs, and geomantic hotspots, quietly gathering strength.


    Across the British Isles lived the Wyrms. Winged dragons with four wed legs, they breathed fire and had bronze-like scales. Spiked bone ridges lined their backs, and their crushing tails made them formidable in battle. Among all dragons, Wyrms were the most physically aggressive. They once ruled mountain ranges and ancient ruins, guarding hoards of treasure and relics. Their memory was legendary; they never forgot a grudge.


    Tarasque Dragons inhabited the swamps and rivends of southern France. With six powerful legs, a lion¡¯s head, crocodilian tail, and a turtle-like shell, they were strange yet formidable. Though massive, they moved with eerie stealth. Instead of fire, they emitted a magical suppression field, weakening nearby spells and enchantments. They preferred deep marshes and vine-entangled caves, thriving in stillness and ambush.


    Fafnirkin hailed from the volcanic mountains of Germany and Scandinavia. Walking upright on two legs, their bodies were cloaked in dark metallic scales etched with glowing runes. Jagged tusks and molten-gold breath marked their terrifying presence. Drawn to precious and spiritually significant items, Fafnirkin embodied greed. They rarely left their fieryirs unless disturbed, their endurance andbat prowess nearly unmatched.


    In Egypt¡¯s sun-scorched deserts, beneath ever-shifting dunes, lived the Apep Dragons. Their ck scales were etched with glowing hieroglyphs that pulsed with chaotic energy. Limbless and wingless, they moved like living sandstorms, bringing storms and disorder in their wake. Their breath twisted weather and corrupted order. Once rulers of hidden ruins, they now inhabit Kvernheim¡¯s vast desert zones.


    The Rainbow Dragons of Australia were unlike any other. Their forms constantly shifted in color and shape, shimmering with the full spectrum of light. Sometimes two-headed, sometimes endlessly long, they were unpredictable and dreamlike. These dragons slept beneath deep rivers, awakening only to feed or when disturbed. Masters of water and weather, their breath could summon rainfall. Not bred for war, Rainbow Dragons embodied natural power¡ªpeaceful when calm, cataclysmic when enraged.


    Together, these dragon types formed the extended family that now resided in Kvernheim, surrounding the sanctuary of Yggdrasil and coexisting under an ancient pact of mutual respect and preservation.


    The grand Elder of the dragons, Meiyara Long, personally interviewed all those who had submitted serious barter offers for the Vest of the Mytherial Moon. Among the selected individuals were Erevan Brontes Lychos, the King of Werewolves, and Fiona Elizabeth Raynor of the Raynor n. Each candidate presented their proposal, discussed the item they were offering in return, and exined its significance.


    Nearly half an hour after the initial round of interviews, Meiyara requested to meet Erevan again in private. Her message was brief, but her tone implied urgency and curiosity.


    Inside the secluded chamber provided by the auction house, Erevan greeted her respectfully.


    "Greetings, Lady Long," he said with a light bow.


    The grand elder offered a curt nod in return. "Greetings, Lord Lychos. Let¡¯s not waste time. I¡¯m quite interested in knowing why you believe the ailment I seek a cure for is rted to abyssal corruption?"


    Erevan took a deep breath before replying. "I¡¯m not certain," he admitted honestly. "But you reside near the fairies and Yggdrasil itself. If they could help you, I doubt you¡¯d be offering up a priceless artifact that has remained hidden from even someone like me, the King of Werewolves. That tells me whatever afflicts your patient lies beyond the healing powers of both fairies and the World Tree. And as far as I know, only one force lies beyond their reach... the abyss."


    The Grand Elder studied him silently for a few seconds. "You assume much."


    "I do. But I believe logic supports it," Erevan replied calmly. "You wouldn¡¯t part with such a treasured heirloom unless the situation was desperate. Even I, a king, had never heard of that armour before today. That level of secrecy,bined with the value of the vest, implies it is your trump card... and using it tells me you are racing against time."


    Meiyara narrowed her eyes slightly, but there was no anger in her expression... only recognition. "You are quite perceptive for a newly crowned king, Lord Erevan Brontes Lychos. I admire your rity of thought."


    He Inclined his head slightly in thanks.


    After a long pause, she added, "Can you confirm that the ritual will indeed be attempted? I presume the ritual would fall under the jurisdiction of the Werewolf Priest? Are you certain she would dare to meddle with abyssal energy?"


    "I believe so," Erevan replied without hesitation. "If you provide the essential materials... specifically, one thousand low-grade spirit crystals... I¡¯ll ensure she agrees. The promise of some... strategic benefits should be enough to earn her cooperation."


    He paused before continuing, "I won¡¯t im one hundred percent certainty in sess, but I am confident that she can restore the soul. There may be side effects, like partial memory loss, and the ritual will demand a price. But it will not endanger the patient¡¯s life."


    Meiyara exhaled deeply, some tension leaving her shoulders. "If what you say is true, then I am willing to take that risk."


    She leaned slightly forward. "But you mentioned memory loss. Are you certain there will be no fatal consequences?"


    Erevan nodded. "Absolutely. No mortal danger... only the usual spiritual bacsh thates from ancient rituals but that was on who was performing the ritual. But you must agree to one condition... the patient must be brought to our Priest¡¯s temple. She never performs rituals outside her own grounds. That is non-negotiable."


    "I understand," Meiyara said, her voice steady. "Please inform me of the exact coordinates or location as soon as possible. The patient¡¯s condition deteriorates more each day, and time is critical. I will arrive with the crystals and the patient. If your Priest seeds, you will receive the vest. If not, I will move on to the next best offer."


    Erevan nodded in eptance. "That is fair."


    Then, he offered a small but firm smile. "And by the way, although my official coronation was dyed, I¡¯ve been ruling the werewolves in practice for over thirty years. You may not know Erevan Brontes Lychos well, but you can trust the word of the King of Werewolves. When I make a promise, I fulfil it."


    That made Meiyara¡¯s lips twitch faintly... perhaps the smallest sign of a smirk or the flicker of something moreplicated, but she said nothing.


    Before she could respond, Erevan stood and gave her one final bow. "Farewell, Lady Long. I look forward to seeing you again soon."


    Without waiting for her to speak further, he turned and exited the chamber.


    Outside the auction room, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor and his entourage were waiting patiently. Fiona raised an eyebrow as he approached but didn¡¯t ask anything.


    Erevan gave a small nod, signaling that everything had gone well, and walked past them. His followers fell in step behind him, and together they departed the auction house... each of them wondering just what kind of trade their king had managed to negotiate behind closed doors.

 Chapter 151: The Raynors and Their Bloodline

    <h4>Chapter 151: The Raynors and Their Bloodline</h4>


    The Raynor n wasn¡¯t famous for brute strength or battlefield dominance like the Lychos or Fenroth ns. Instead, they were widely regarded for their shrewdness in business and diplomacy. In supernatural circles, they were often referred to as the wealthiest n in existence, not just among werewolves, but across all known supernaturalmunities.


    Their influence was far-reaching, yet the true source of their quiet powery in their blood... specifically, the Elizabeth bloodline. Only the bearer of this awakened lineage could be the n¡¯s head. This tradition wasn¡¯t a matter of pride, but a protective measure. Those born with the Elizabeth bloodline carried unique, multifaceted powers, and only they possessed the fortitude and rity to shoulder the responsibility of leading the Raynor legacy.


    The Elizabeth bloodline was unlike any other. The Elizabeth bloodline was quite unique among all the famous bloodlines. It possessed many smaller attributes that could appear randomly among the descendants of Elizabeth Raynor. As werewolves, they naturally inherited supernatural strength, speed, endurance, regeneration, heightened senses, elerated healing, and enhanced reflexes. But as Raynors, they also inherited their ancestralbat techniques. Even without training, this battle instinct was embedded in them, allowing them to fight instinctively. However, over time, the Raynor n developed a teaching method that enabled its members to use this advantage to its fullest potential.


    Additionally, one distinct advantage all descendants shared was a natural resistance to silver and wolfsbane... substances typically fatal to werewolves. Where others faltered, they endured. Because of these unique physical attributes, Raynor n was nominated as official ambassadors of the werewolves, tasked with representing their kind in interspecies summits and human-werewolf negotiations.


    But their talents didn¡¯t end with diplomacy or supernatural resilience.


    Raynors often disyed extraordinary abilities across various intellectual domains. Some had an innate sense of economics, predicting market trends with uncanny precision. Others were prodigies in strategic nning, legal arbitration, or crisis management. A few could read deception like a book, detecting lies through micro-expressions and tonal shifts. Many were gifted with near-eidetic memories... retaining names, numbers, histories, and facts with impossible rity. While eidetic memory was rare, every Raynor was known for having above-average cognitive recall.


    Their powers were subtle, not shy. But in the long game of influence, subtlety won wars.


    Because of these gifts, the Raynors became the wealthiest supernatural n over centuries. Their business empire expanded into nearly every human sector: finance, real estate, global trade, media, technology, academia, and even the entertainment industry. While most of their contributions were hidden behind aliases and front organizations, the truth was staggering. Raynors had earned Nobel Prizes, Fields Medals, Academy Awards, Pulitzer Prizes, Grammy and Emmy awards... all under the guise of human identities.


    Despite their reach, few knew the full extent of what an awakened Elizabeth bloodline could do. Only those who had awakened... like Oswyn, Fiona, and now Eleanor, understood the terrifying depth of that power. Common knowledge said that an Elizabeth wielded all Raynor abilities at once, but that was an understatement.


    In truth, when a true Elizabeth fought, the battlefield became a graveyard.


    Oswyn, the former head of the n, had annihted legions of enemies during medieval and early modern conflicts. Fiona left behind rivers of blood during the First and Second World Wars. Even Eleanor, rtively new and far less seasoned, was already feared for her cold precision and thepleteck of hesitation when eliminating threats. Her name had already spread in supernatural circles, carrying with it the weight of dread and ruthless efficiency.


    Yet, despite this fearsome legacy, the majority of Raynors were calm, measured, and surprisingly approachable. Patience was their hallmark. Even those bearing the Elizabeth bloodline rarely lost control. The n had spread across the world over centuries, especially after the second world war, when the world getting to be in order while forming stable countries.


    Ethan Raynor was the perfect embodiment of the Raynor ideal.


    Cool-headed, analytical, protective, and deeply disciplined, Ethan had always stood out even among his gifted rtives. From childhood, he demonstrated exceptional emotional restraint. Unlike most young werewolves who struggled with impulsivity, Ethan suppressed his urges with maturity far beyond his years. He was a silent observer, a man who preferred to watch and understand before acting.


    His academic records were wless. Like every Raynor child, he excelled in all areas of study, but what set him apart was his profound intolerance for falsehood. Lies disgusted him, and as a result, he never kept arge circle of friends... especially among humans. But that never bothered him. Wherever he went, be it school, college, or university, Ethan maintained a small, loyal group, choosing sincerity over poprity.


    Then Eleanor came into his life!


    The first time Ethan saw her at university, he felt a soul-deep pull towards her. For werewolves, such recognition was immediate. They could sense their fated partner. And Ethan, who had always been reserved to other females, knew right away. Eleanor was his fated female.


    Rtionships between werewolves and humans weren¡¯t umon. But nature made such unions difficult. While werewolves could father or mother children with humans due to their dual-natured biology, most of these children were hybrids. Unfortunately, human mothers often couldn¡¯t survive the pregnancy. The supernatural fetus either overwhelmed the mother¡¯s body, or had to be born as fully human... which was a rare and statistically negligible oue.


    Only female werewolves could safely give birth to hybrids, but even then, the child would usuallyck strength and have a human-like lifespan. For this reason, most werewolves turned their human partners after bonding, ensuringpatibility and the possibility of children before mating.


    Ethan knew all this, and he chose to approach her slowly.


    He orchestrated a casual encounter, then joined her university group. That¡¯s when he discovered she had a boyfriend. Ethan was heartbroken. But instead of walking away or force her, he chose patience. Werewolves, after all, can y the long game. Humans lived barely a century; he had time. Once turned, even in old age, they could gain a rejuvenated body as a werewolf. His strategy was to be someone irreceable as her closest friend, her silent guardian.


    He knew her boyfriend was a pathological liar, a maniptor. But he never said a word. He feared that confronting her might drive her away. Instead, he focused on building trust. If love was to bloom, it would grow from the foundation of unwavering friendship. He would be the one who never betrayed her, who stayed by her side through it all.


    After graduation, Eleanor joined her family¡¯spany, while Ethan, following his grandmother¡¯s guidance, went to South Korea to train in business. There, he worked in their family¡¯spany in a managerial role to gain hands-on experience. From time to time, he spoke with Eleanor over the phone... as a friend... to maintain their connection. He was well aware that her rtionship with her boyfriend was still going strong, and they were reportedly nning to get engaged soon. Eleanor seemed happy with her boyfriend... at least, that¡¯s what she told him.


    On that fateful day, Ethan had just returned from South Korea. Due to the wrap-up of his training and the handover of his position to another employee, he hadn¡¯t called Eleanor for several days. He hadn¡¯t even had the time to catch up on news from the kingdom. Since Eleanor¡¯s incident wasn¡¯t headline business news, no one around him mentioned it... even if they knew.


    Afternding at the airport, he borrowed a car from an estate employee who happened to be in the area on an errand. Driving home by himself, he met with that ident... and hurt her.


    Now, whenever he thought back to that day, it felt as though everything had been arranged by the universe. It was all meant to happen... to bring Eleanor back to him. What he hadn¡¯t expected, however, was to gain a daughter in the process. And that, without the mating ritual.


    Mating was a biological imperative among werewolves. But Ethan had never surrendered to that primal urge. Perhaps he was the only adult male werewolf still a virgin at his age. It wasn¡¯t due to any incapacity... rather, he had honed control over both body and mind. Still, there were moments around Eleanor when restraint became almost unbearable. Her smile, the casual cadence of her voice, the way she carried herself with effortless grace... each lit a fire deep within him. Her cherry-red lips, her voluptuous figure, the gentle curves of her body... even her scent... called to him with relentless temptation. There were moments when, mentally, he almost pounced. Many nights, he returned home only to plunge into a cold shower, trying to extinguish the heat she stirred within him.


    But he knew... it was not the time.


    After the harrowing event, Eleanor had be sensitive to physical touch. Even casual contact seemed to unsettle her. Though she bore herself with strength and ruthlessness, he understood that beneath the surface, she still carried the weight of psychological torment.


    As he stood lost in thought, a small voice interrupted his reverie.


    "Daddy, why are you just standing there? I lost this game because of you."

 Chapter 152: Ethan’s Happy Days

    <h4>Chapter 152: Ethan¡¯s Happy Days</h4>


    Ethan shook himself from his reverie. With an apologetic smile he said, "Sorry, sweetheart. I¡¯m not as good at games as you are."


    Freya pouted, then brightened. "It¡¯s okay. It was just a game. Don¡¯t worry... I¡¯ll teach you. You¡¯ll be a pro in no time."


    Enthusiastically, she began exining the two?yer controls. Despite her young age, she was a natural strategist, a gifted yer. Ethan followed every instruction, gazing fondly at her earnest face. He loved these moments... his daughter teaching him, role and counter?role reversed.


    Just then, Eleanor appeared in the doorway. "What are you two up to?"


    Both looked at their back. Ethan smiled. "You¡¯re back."


    Freya bounded across the room and wrapped her arms around her. "Mommy, I missed you!"


    "I missed you too, sweetie," Eleanor murmured, hugging her close.


    "Freya," Ethan said, "let your mother change. We should start preparing dinner now so she can join uster."


    Freya nodded and released Eleanor. Father and daughter headed downstairs to the kitchen while Eleanor slipped away to freshen up.


    Since the duel, Ethan had cleared his schedule for every hour Freya was out of school. The workload at Purplebricks had surged after a sudden expansion into the Stockport market, but he delegated most tasks to his managers; time with his daughter was worth more than any contract. Eleanor¡¯s own calendar had been packed, so she¡¯d asked him to handle school pick?ups for a few days, and he¡¯d leapt at the chance.


    Rumours drifted through the family about how, while he was locked inbat, Eleanor had shattered the Gerymoore n¡¯s long-standing political base. Ethan had suspected she was nning something when she requested him to prolong the duel, yet he had never imagined she would cripple a Gerymoore n¡¯s power base overnight. In Manchester¡¯s business circles he was known as a ruthless businessman, but Eleanor¡¯s actions redefined ruthlessness in his mind. She had destroyed the Brown familypletely and severed the Gerymoore¡¯s London-based political lifeline.


    The Gerymoore n searched every corner possible for proof of Raynor involvement in their downfall, but found none. People whispered that the Raynors had orchestrated the downfall, yet without evidence the Gerymoores could do nothing. They had lost both inside the Coliseum and outside of it.


    To outsiders, Ethan¡¯s victory over Lucian Gerymoore had looked effortless; in truth, it had almost broken him. He possessed no extraordinary physical gifts... his powery in calction and prediction. He could foresee an attack¡¯s trajectory and prepare an instant defence, but when two alphas shed... that moment was vanishingly brief.


    Lucian, a prodigy who had awakened his n¡¯s earth magic, boasted a body as resilient as granite and benefited by training from the renowned Fenroth n. Elder Bedivere had therefore drilled Ethan in a single technique: a rebounding counter that multiplied an opponent¡¯s force but requirednding at the precise center of the iing blow. Ethan¡¯s predictive talent made him uniquely suited, yet his lighter frame meant he spent most of the fight evading until that one decisive instant. When the rebound struck, Lucian fell... but Ethan bled inside.


    Dayster, he was still healing despite the best medicines. Endurance, however, had its rewards. In one bout, he became a star among werewolf youth. Calls and messages poured in... greetings, offers of partnership, invitations to parties. For a man who had lived quietly at the edge of every crowd, the attention was disorienting yet promising for his business ambitions.


    For now, he cherished recovery and these golden hours with Freya. He told himself he was living the best days of his life.


    Hand in hand, father and daughter descended the stairs... but before they reached the dining room, a cheerful voice rang from the front door.


    "Good evening, Mr.?Raynor! Darling Freya! I¡¯vee for dinner."


    Anastasiya?Ivanova swept inside, the picture of vivacity. Grand?daughter of Lord?Alexander?Ivanov, the noble vampire who had apanied Eleanor from Russia, she now lived permanently in Teresa¡¯s vi. In mere weeks she had befriended Teresa, Cassandra, Lily, and Maya. Whether human or werewolf, few could resist her charm.


    Traditionally, vampires and werewolves did not mingle, yet Anastasiya¡¯s bright spirit had thawed the tension among the vi¡¯s guards. After a brief period of wary silence, it became almost ordinary to see a vampireughing beneath a werewolf roof.


    "Aunt?Ana! I don¡¯t love you anymore."


    Freya turned her small face away from Anastasiya. In only a few days, they had grown so close that Freya had shortened her name for convenience.


    "Why is my darling angry with me?" Anastasiya asked, pulling an exaggeratedly woeful face. "If you don¡¯t love me, I¡¯ll cry."


    "You promised to y with me today, but you forgot. You¡¯re not the sweet aunt who loves me the most!" Freya huffed, still refusing to look at her.


    "I didn¡¯t forget," Anastasiya protested. "I just had a mountain of work at the office. Look... I brought you an apology present."


    At the word ¡¯present¡¯, Freya¡¯s ears twitched, though she kept her gaze averted. Anastasiya noticed the flicker of interest and pressed on.


    "Can you guess what it is?"


    "I don¡¯t want your gift."


    With a theatrical sigh, Anastasiya said, "I thought the new version of Assetto?Corsa would be perfect for you. But if you don¡¯t want it, I suppose I¡¯ll give it to someone else."


    Freya¡¯s head snapped around. "But, Aunt?Ana, I already have thetest update."


    "This is a closed beta version... still unavable in stores," Anastasiya replied, shaking the case. "I thought you¡¯d like it."


    Freya marched over and snatched the box. "All right, I guess I still love you a little." Her grin dazzled. "We¡¯re getting dinner ready. You can join us."


    Anastasiya punched the air in triumph. "Yay! Let¡¯s eat together."


    She nced toward the stairs. "Where¡¯s your mommy?"


    "She went to change," Freya said. "She¡¯ll be down after she freshens up."


    "Straight from the office?"


    Freya nodded. "Uh?huh."


    Ethan had watched the exchange from the side. He disliked how easily this vampire breezed into the house, yet Eleanor trusted her and Freya seemed to like her. Besides, though Anastasiya looked barely twenty, he knew she was far older and therefore potentially dangerous. He quelled his wariness and offered courtesy.


    "Good evening, Miss?Ivanova. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour."


    Anastasiya beamed. "Thank you, Mr.?Raynor. After tasting your cooking once, I couldn¡¯t stay away."


    "My daddy is the best," Freya dered.


    "Indeed he is," Anastasiya agreed.


    Ethan disappeared into the kitchen; Anastasiya and Freya took their seats in the dining room.


    The first time Anastasiya met Freya, she was stunned... "Eleanor, so young, with a child this old?" Age mattered little in the supernatural world, yet the realization left her feeling unexpectedly behind. Time with Freya only deepened her longing for a family of her own.


    Meeting Ethan brought fresh surprises. Eleanor, it turned out, was not born a Raynor; the surname came through marriage... or so Anastasiya had assumed. Greater shock followed when she learned Ethan and Eleanor were not married at all, yet Eleanor became the heir to the Raynor n.


    Among vampires, lineage purity is paramount; no outsider could ever lead a n, no matter how powerful. A hybrid remained a hybrid, and even fully turned descendants were looked down upon. Anastasiya had first chalked it up to politics.


    Then, she met Fiona?Elizabeth?Raynor, the formidable n matriarch, and saw how fiercely Fiona cherished both Eleanor and Freya. Ethan¡¯s parents were no different. Other rtives were absent, but over time, Anastasiya understood why werewolves thrived while vampires stagnated.


    The secrety in family dynamics. Werewolves weed anyone who joined the pack, judging worth by contribution, not birth. She watched Eleanor treat her werewolf guards, who were clearly from lesser ns... with genuine respect. In business, werewolves epted orders from humans ording to rank, working side by side without a hint of superiority.


    Heimdall offered the clearest proof. Eleanor ran her empire through a handful of trusted humans. Teresa wielded vast authority; Anastasiya had seen her spend millions of dors without even consulting Eleanor. Maya, Lily, Ava, Helena, James, Timini, Olivia, and other humans upied key posts in herpany.


    Even here, in the viplex, humans and werewolves lived in seamless harmony. Anastasiya could smell the wolves and sense their auras, yet they remained perfectly human in bearing so that no mortal sensed anything amiss.


    Atst, she grasped the root of Eleanor¡¯s sess... and of the Raynors¡¯ ascent. They blended with humanity, valued it, harnessed it. Vampires, by contrast, clung to arrogance, viewing humans merely as food sources like cattle. And so, while werewolves flourished, vampires slipped further behind.


    Freya, absorbed in a freshly downloaded game, scarcely noticed Anastasiya sitting beside her, lost in thought. Anastasiya was trying to understand how she, the impulsive visitor who hade to the kingdom on a whim... had be a part of an enterprise Eleanor was quietly building in her name. One rash decision, she reflected, and she was entangled beyond escape.


    More than ten?billion dors from Eleanor now sat in an ount bearing her signature. With a single transfer Eleanor had anchored her to the venture; fleeing was no longer an option. Heimdall¡¯s project?management team was already working around the clock to construct a new factory in Russia... on her own ancestralnd. They had even assigned her an office in Heimdall¡¯s headquarters, though in truth, Teresa and Lily directed day?to?day operations while she observed and learned.


    Teresa¡¯s choice of project manager still amazed her: a Russian female named Polina?Kournikova. Kournikova held a PhD in Materials Science from the Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology and an MBA in Global Technology Operations from MIT Sloan. She had logged years at Microsoft, Google, and IBM before joining Eleanor¡¯s space project in the United States.


    Silently, she cursed her grandfather for thrusting her into this trap. She was now so deeply invested in the project that there was no turning back.

 Chapter 153: The Kola Peninsula Industrial Campus

    <h4>Chapter 153: The K Penins Industrial Campus</h4>


    While Anastasiya was reflecting on her recent life choices and absentmindedly fiddling with a folder, Eleanor entered the dining room and took a seat across from her.


    "When did youe?" she asked, adjusting her chair.


    "Not long ago. Here... I came to give you this," Anastasiya said, immediately sliding the folder across the table toward Eleanor.


    "This is the final n for the K Penins Industrial Campus. Miss Kournikova said this will serve as our base blueprint moving forward. Some minorponents may still need adjustment, and the actual costs could exceed twenty billion during implementation, but overall, the project will remain more or less the same," Anastasiya exined.


    Eleanor picked up the folder and took out a stack of papers bound together. She nced over the summary page first, then asked, "Did Teresa and Lily approve this project n?"


    Anastasiya replied, "Yes. They were both present at today¡¯s project team meeting."


    Eleanor nodded. "Can you give me a brief overview of the project? I don¡¯t want to go through all the details right now."


    Anastasiya nodded and said, "Okay, I can do that."


    Inwardly, she knew Eleanor was testing her... gauging how much she had learned in the meantime.


    With that thought in mind, she began.


    "The industrial campus will be built to produce AI surveince GPU cards, full telemetry and guidance logic boards for satellites, flight controlputer modules for both LEO and GEO orbits, edge-processing boards for drone swarms and autonomous surveince towers, and cryptographic authentication chips for secure military infrastructure. We¡¯ll sell them to the Russian government and also use them in our other production bases. The campus will be fully autonomous... we won¡¯t rely on external sources for any part of the production process."


    She looked at Eleanor carefully. Seeing that she was listening intently, she continued, "The industrial campus will be built on the K Penins near Murmansk, because the deep-water harbour there remains ice-free year-round thanks to the North Antic Current. This will ensure uninterrupted arrival of chemicals and the smooth departure of finished crates along the Northern Sea Route and through the Barents gateway to the Antic."


    She paused, then said, "The campus will be fully autonomous. Its independence is anchored by a private, heavy-fuel-oil thermal power nt with a capacity of 180 megawatts. The nt will be outfitted with three high-efficiency, low-emissionbustion turbines and a closed-loop steam recovery system to maximize thermal output and ensure year-round energy stability. It will operate with full redundancy, incorporating dual fuel feed systems and maintaining a 90-day on-site reserve of low-sulphur fuel oil, stored in Arctic-hardened containment tanks to withstand extreme conditions. To stabilize demand and reduce peak-load strain, lithium-iron-phosphate battery farms will be deployed across the grid, enabling fast-response load levelling and critical power buffering."


    She paused, then added, "We¡¯ll also have high-voltage links to the 1.76-gigawatt K Nuclear Power nt, which will remain avable but serve strictly as a tertiary fallback."


    ncing at Eleanor, she continued, "Utility self-sufficiency will be reinforced by in-house generators for liquid nitrogen, argon, and hydrogen to supply essential process gases. A seawater desalination and de-ionization train will provide ultrapure water for fabrication use. Toplete the system, a full-cycle waste-gas scrubber facility will ensure emissions remain within environmental regtions and safeguard the surrounding Arctic ecosystempleting the factory¡¯s enclosed and self-reliant utility profile."


    Eleanor said, "Okay, I understand the autonomous process. Tell me about the operation."


    Anastasiya replied, "The operation will begin at the raw materials terminal, where Karelia quartzite, Norilsk matte containing nickel, cobalt, and copper, as well as concentrates bearing tinum-group and rare-earth elements are received and siloed. Russia¡¯s position as the world¡¯s secondrgest ferrosilicon producer will allow continuous rail delivery of metallurgical silicon, which will be chlorinated and distilled into eleven-nines polysilicon. This will then be processed through Czochralski and float-zone pullers to produce two-hundred- and three-hundred-millimeter boules, destined for wafer slicing,pping, and epitaxy."


    After a slight pause, she added, "Apanion metallurgy hall will refine cobalt to battery grade and electrolytically te high-purity copper and nickel interconnect stock. This process will depend on how much cobalt we can secure from K MMC¡¯s annual capacity of three thousand tons, following its recent reconstruction."


    She paused, adjusted her posture, then continued, "The crystal warehouse will feed three front-end fabs. The first is a rad-hard CMOS line, qualified at 180 to 90 nanometers, for satellite control ASICs and radiation-tolerant microcontrollers. The second dedicates its clean bays to silicon carbide power devices and gallium-nitride RF amplifiers for phased-array payloads. The third fab, designed for future immersion lithography, opens at 130 nanometers, with a locked-in tool path to 65 nanometers once domestic deep-ultraviolet steppersplete qualificationter in the decade."


    After taking a deep breath, she added, "All three share a central chemical-mechanical-polish loop, copper damascene ting, atomicyer deposition ovens using titanium and hafnium precursors synthesized in the adjoining high-¦Ê chemistryb, and an in-house resist nt... cutting dependency on foreign suppliers down to specialty photo-initiators alone."


    She paused and nced at Eleanor, who gave a subtle nod to continue. Anastasiya resumed, "Wafers will be transported by automated shuttle to a back-end vige that handles copper-pir redistribution, through-silicon-via drilling, and flip-chip attachment onto aluminium-nitride ceramic interposers. Finished die stacks will then proceed to a board-assembly hall, where surface-mount robots install memory modules, secure boot managers, and radiation-hardened regtors onto carbon-fiber PCB panels. This producesplete graphics cards capable of sixteen tera-operations per second inference at 120 watts, designed for low-Earth-orbit edge processing. Each board will undergo approximately a forty-hour thermal-vacuum and total-ionizing-dose regimen before automated crates roll to the quayside for direct loading."


    After she finished, Eleanor asked, "Tell me about the design and simtion tower."


    Anastasiya cleared her throat, then answered.


    "The design and simtion tower will be a criticalponent of the industrial campus. It houses a state-of-the-art data center equipped with electronic design automation (EDA) servers and an AI-elerated digital twin system. This digital twin creates a real-time virtual replica of the entire manufacturing process, tracking every batch... from raw quartz feedstock to the final packaged semiconductor module."


    She paused, then continued, "By mirroring all production parameters... such as temperature, humidity, ion dosage, and etching precision... the system enables predictive maintenance, capable of anticipating and preventing equipment failures, thereby minimizing downtime. It also facilitates yield optimization by allowing real-time adjustments to manufacturing variables, improving the number of functional chips produced per wafer."


    After a pause, she added, "Importantly, this entire infrastructure operates entirely on-site, without reliance on external cloud services... ensuring data sovereignty, enhanced security, and resilience against potential geopolitical disruptions."


    She looked at Eleanor and continued, "Adjacent to this, the campus includes a specialized polymer and gas synthesis facility, responsible for producing the high-purity process gases essential to semiconductor fabrication. This facility generates hydrogen for annealing and reduction processes, nitrogen for inert carrier and purge roles, argon for ion imntation and shielding during sma etching, and sne gas, which is critical for chemical vapor deposition of siliconyers."


    She paused, then added, "By synthesizing these gases on-site, the campus reduces its dependence on imported specialty gases... resources that are costly, difficult to transport, and vulnerable to supply chain disruptions. This approach not only lowers operational costs but also guarantees a steady, uninterrupted supply necessary for continuous fab operations."


    Eleanor showed a rare smile upon seeing how diligently Anastasiya was presenting her knowledge. Noticing that slight smile, Anastasiya felt a quiet surge of happiness.


    She continued, "Complementing these utilities, a zero-liquid-discharge chemical recovery nt has been constructed to manage and recycle the hazardous acids used extensively in wafer cleaning and etching. Hydrofluoric acid and sulfuric acid... both vital to the fabrication process... are recovered and purified within this system, allowing for the reuse of a significant portion of these chemicals."


    She paused, then added, "This approach drastically reduces the need for fresh acid imports, minimizes hazardous waste discharge to near zero, and ensurespliance with the stringent environmental regtions necessary to protect the fragile Arctic ecosystem surrounding the facility. Such chemical recycling not only reinforces the campus¡¯s operational autonomy and environmental stewardship but also safeguards continuous manufacturing amid potential supply constraints."


    She took a deep breath, then continued, "Security around the campus is maintained by awork of radar towers and passive sensors, strategically positioned along the perimeter. These instations monitor for unauthorized ess by air ornd, detect environmental hazards such as wildfires or adverse weather, and identify anomalous equipment vibrations or electromaic interference."


    She paused for a moment, then said, "All sensor data is processed locally by advanced AI systems, running on purpose-built inference hardware developed within the facility itself. This edge AI operates entirely independent of externalworks, delivering real-time anomaly detection and alerts with zerotency. By eliminating reliance on outsidemunication channels or cloud infrastructure, the campus ensures robust, tamper-resistant security... vital for protecting the highly sensitive and proprietary semiconductor technologies housed within."


    She looked at Eleanor and added, "Together, these integrated systems form a self-sufficient, intelligent backbone for the industrial campus. They enableprehensive oversight of design, production, chemical supply, environmental impact, and security... all managed internally, without external dependencies. This autonomy is essential for a manufacturing environment dedicated to producing advanced AI and satellite-grade semiconductors, where reliability, confidentiality, and continuous operation are paramount."


    When she finished, Eleanor asked, "What about the budget allocation?"

 Chapter 154: Money, Bribes and Negotiations

    <h4>Chapter 154: Money, Bribes and Negotiations</h4>


    When Anastasiya finished, Eleanor was astonished by how much the girl had absorbed about their future endeavour.


    She asked curiously, "What about the budget allocation?"


    Anastasiya responded with calm confidence, "We¡¯ve nned for twenty billion U.S. dors toplete the entire campus. Roughly five billion will go toward electricity and utility infrastructure, three for the metallurgical and crystalplex, nine for the trio of front-end fabs... including lithography tools, two for the back-end assembly and reliabilitybs, and one for the design center, logistics spur, and housing."


    She paused briefly, then added, "The budget is flexible and can scale as process nodes shrink or output increases beyond the initial twenty-five thousand wafers per month. With every critical feedstock sourced from Russian soil, every utility generated in-house, and each stage of production housed behind a single fence, the nt will yield sovereign AI-grade semiconductors and satellite graphics engines. These products will leave the facility fully tested and ready forunch integration or field-rack instation."


    Eleanor nodded, clearly satisfied. She looked fondly at the cheerful girl. "When do you want to return to Russia?"


    Anastasiya said, "I think my work here is done. Maybe this week. I¡¯ll let you know. I already asked Grandpa to secure thend we n to buy, and he confirmed it with the authorities. The paperwork will be processed after I return. I also need to register a Russian limited liabilitypany in Murmansk Ost."


    Eleanor asked, "Did Teresa receive the OFSI license already?"


    "Yes," Anastasiya replied. "Though I was surprised to learn you need a license just to invest in Russia. But something confused me. Why does the paperwork say you¡¯re not investing money but contributing non-mary share capital? You¡¯ve already sent your portion of the funds, haven¡¯t you?"


    Eleanor didn¡¯t reveal how the money was actually sourced. Instead, she replied coolly, "Investing in Russia from the Kingdom or US is a bureaucratic nightmare. That¡¯s why I transferred the money from offshore ounts. You probably didn¡¯t check where it came from... it¡¯s all from anonymous sources."


    She paused, then continued, "There are sanctions in ce. Regtions prohibit most new investments and technology transfers. If we want to move even a single dor or piece of design IP, we need an OFSI license. That¡¯s why we¡¯re officially dering that we¡¯re not sending any funds or intellectual property to Russia. We¡¯re simply sending our experts to help build the factory."


    Anastasiya shook her head in disbelief. "So much trouble for such a small world. I¡¯m amazed by how these puny humansplicate everything with their senseless pride."


    Eleanor smiled slightly. "You wouldn¡¯t understand. You¡¯ve been cooped up in your house for far too long. You need to see the world. This kind of politics exists everywhere... even among supernatural races. The only difference is, with billions of humans, their problems are more visible. We operate under the Supernatural Act, so we keep things hidden. Don¡¯t worry... you¡¯ll face your fair share of licensing headaches when you get to Russia. Teresa will hand you a long checklist."


    Anastasiya groaned. "Teresa only mentioned that I needed to register apany in Murmansk Ost. Nothing else."


    Eleanor chuckled. "That¡¯s just the beginning. After you register thepany, you¡¯ll need to obtain Strategic Investment Clearance. Since your factory will produce space-grade, AI-grade, and dual-use electronics, it falls under a strategic sector of the Russian economy."


    She added, "After that, you¡¯ll need to register thepany as a resident of the Arctic Zone of the Russian Federation."


    Anastasiya frowned. "How can apany be a resident?"


    "That¡¯s just how the rules work," Eleanor exined. "This registration will allow you to receive tax holidays and incentives. You¡¯ll also gain ess to state-ownednd plots without tender, and long-term industrial leases... up to forty-nine years. It¡¯s essential if you want to build near K Bay or around Murmansk¡¯s industrial port zones."


    She gave a mischievous smile before continuing, "Then we¡¯ll need multiple licenses... from the Federal Construction Review Agency and Federal Ecological Supervision. These include Environmental Impact Assessment, soil and permafrost studies, utilityyouts, high-tech building certifications for cleanrooms, fab modules, reactor halls, and more."


    Anastasiya looked overwhelmed. "How can anyone run a business if there¡¯s this much paperwork before even starting?"


    Eleanor leaned back in her seat, amused. "That¡¯s the beauty of it. Don¡¯t see it as a burden... it¡¯s the same for everyone. I actually prefer situations with lots of licensing. It protects my business from outside interference. Don¡¯t think like a human. Think like a supernatural being with influence over decision-makers. If youck influence, use money. Officials can be bought, and we¡¯re not short on funds."


    She smiled slyly. "Treat it as an investment. Once production begins, every dor spent wille back... many times over."


    Anastasiya still looked puzzled. "Why would we bribe those weak humans? Can¡¯t we justpel them? I¡¯m a noble vampire. I could charm them into doing anything."


    Eleanor shook her head firmly. "No. Not in business. You can¡¯tpel someone into long-term cooperation. But bribes... bribes make humans loyal. I¡¯ve even bribed officials I didn¡¯t need to, just to secure future goodwill. Once they take your money, they¡¯ll bend over backward to prove their usefulness and ensure they get more."


    She continued, "And I haven¡¯t even mentioned everything yet. We¡¯ll need to bring in foreign architects, cleanroom experts, chip engineers, and technologists. For them, we¡¯ll apply for ¡¯Highly Qualified Specialist¡¯ visas as a group quota. We also have to register for Free Customs Zone status, which exempts us from customs duties on imported capital equipment."


    She held up a finger. "And let¡¯s not forget approval from the Federal Service for Technical and Export Control. If we¡¯re handling encryption, AI inference systems, or space-rted tech, we¡¯ll need clearance."


    "Only after all this," she concluded, "can we begin developing the leasednd."


    Anastasiya stared at her, visibly overwhelmed. "How much time will all this take? Does anyone actually do business under these conditions?"


    "You don¡¯t have to worry," Eleanor reassured her. "Your grandfather has enough influence to make everything easy. Besides, I¡¯m sending a team with you. They¡¯ll assess the situation, decide who to bribe, and handle the rest. You won¡¯t even notice the transactions happening."


    Anastasiya stared at her as if she were seeing a ghost. She had never met someone who so casually... and proudly... discussed bribery.


    After a nervousugh, she said, "So I don¡¯t have to worry about any of this. How long do you think it¡¯ll take to get all the licenses?"


    "If your family uses its full influence," Eleanor said, "it¡¯ll take around six months. But I¡¯m confident my team can finish everything within a month... if we use you as the face of the project."


    Anastasiya blinked. "That doesn¡¯t make sense. How can you shorten it by five months?"


    "Simple," Eleanor said. "My team will parade you in front of every key official. Then they¡¯ll bribe the decision-makers behind the scenes. These humans will rush the process once they understand your family¡¯s power and see the twenty-billion-dor investment on paper."


    She leaned forward and conspiratorially whispered, "Money injects fear into the hearts of the humans. And fear...bined with greed... is a powerful motivator. Don¡¯t think too much. You¡¯ll understand once you see it in action."


    Anastasiya sighed in relief. "So, I was worrying for nothing," she said. "All I really have to do is take your team to Russia... and they¡¯ll handle everything from there."


    "Correct," Eleanor reassured her with a nod. "But you¡¯ll still need to involve your grandfather in a few key areas where your family¡¯s influence is essential. Don¡¯t worry... you¡¯ll get the hang of it soon enough."


    While the two women spoke, Ethan had already set the table. He called out, "Dinner¡¯s ready. Let¡¯s eat."


    As they took their utensils, he nced at Eleanor and said, "By the way, with such a massive investment, why not negotiate for some extra benefits? Things like visa-free entry for your employees or special status for strategic assets?"


    Eleanor responded as she gently poured soup into Freya¡¯s bowl. "I was nning to address that after thepany registration isplete. Here in the Kingdom, I never had to push for such things... we already have influence over nearly everything. But in the U.S., specifically in California, my Gulfstream jet is listed as a VIP aircraft. Mypanions and I bypass immigration entirely. I believe I can secure simr privileges in Russia too."


    As everyone began eating, Ethan posed another question. "Is it really worth making such a massive investment in Russia? You could¡¯ve chosen a neutral country. That might have helped you avoid all those restrictions."


    Eleanor leaned back slightly, her expression calm. "That decision was straightforward," she said. "Russia controls most of the raw materials required for modern microelectronics. Quartzite and metallurgical silicon from Karelia and Siberia. Nickel, cobalt, copper, and tinum-group metals from Norilsk and the K Penins. Titanium and hafnium from the Urals. Not to mention the rare-earth elements and scandium reserves currently under active development in the Arctic."


    She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.


    "When all of those feedstocks fall within a single customs border," she continued, "it eliminates a lot of hidden vtility and ensures a stable, long-term supply chain. That kind of security is priceless."


    She took a sip of water before adding, "And from a logistical standpoint, a site on K Bay just outside Murmansk is perfect. It offers rail connections deep into Russia¡¯s industrial interior and direct ess to an ice-free deep-water port. The Northern Sea Route will let us ship containerized tools and chemicals straight to and from Pacific markets... without relying on the Suez Canal or fragile European feeder hubs. It¡¯s a built-in insurance policy against vtile geopolitics or pandemic-era shipping chaos."


    Ethan nodded thoughtfully. "I see. I¡¯m not in the import-export business, but still... wouldn¡¯t it be harder to bring products from Russia back to the Kingdom or the U.S.?"


    Eleanor smiled faintly. "Who said I n to export anything?"


    Ethan blinked. "Wait... you don¡¯t?"


    "Not at all," Eleanor replied with quiet satisfaction. "I never intended to export from this facility. This factory will supply space-grade and AI-grade advanced electronics exclusively to my ownpanies. And as for the surplus... I¡¯ll sell it to the Russian government. I expect they¡¯ll demand first rights to the finished products as part of the licensing agreement. And once I agree to sell them just after fulfilling my own demand, they¡¯ll act like they won some great diplomatic victory."


    Ethanughed. "That¡¯s clever. Honestly, any government would want first ess to such high-end products."


    Eleanor joined in theughter, her tone sly. "Exactly. It¡¯s all a game of appearances. Let them believe they¡¯ve won."


    This chapter is updated by freew(e)bnovel.(c)om

 Chapter 155: A Shocking News

    <h4>Chapter 155: A Shocking News</h4>


    The announcement came suddenly. All ten great werewolf ns received a direct order from their king that each n must host an inter-npetition within one month to identify their five most promising warriors under the age of one hundred. Those selected would earn the right to enter the Trial of Yggdrasil.


    The news spread like wildfire. Youths across the ns erupted in excitement, preparing fervently for thepetition. The ns themselves were pleased, grateful for the unexpected opportunity. But one use in the decree stood out... one that caused far more concern than celebration.


    The king¡¯s order specified that the heirs of each of the ten great ns who had not yet undertaken the Trial were required to participate, alongside their nsmen.


    As it turned out, only five heirs among the ten had sessfullypleted the Trial and be ascendants. The remaining five, for various reasons... be it youth, circumstance, or unpreparedness... had not yet entered. Now, they would have no choice.


    When Eleanor heard the news, her mood turned grave. The shock was beyond anything she had expected. Knowing what this meant for Eleanor, Fiona came in person to deliver the news.


    "Grandma," Eleanor said, her voice trembling, "how can I leave Freya for so long? I¡¯ve heard there can be casualties during the Trial. If someone dies in there, they¡¯re gone forever. My Freya is still a child. How can I put her through such uncertainty?"


    "I¡¯m just as worried as you are," Fiona said softly. "I¡¯ve spoken with the other n heads. You may be the youngest of the heirs, but many believe you¡¯re also the strongest. Everyone is concerned, but for reasons we don¡¯t yet know, the king is resolute. He¡¯s going through with it. And if someone misses this chance, I fear the next opportunity for ascendance won¡¯te for another two to three hundred years."


    Eleanor¡¯s brow furrowed. "Why now? Why such a sudden order? Do you know anything?"


    "The king hasn¡¯t exined," Fiona replied. "But he visited Yggdrasil a few days ago. After returning, he sent this order out. I¡¯ve also heard that other supernatural races were given quotas for the Trial. You have friends among them... you could ask around for more details."


    Eleanor looked thoughtful. "I wonder what happened. Are we at risk?"


    "I heard rumours while speaking with others," Fiona said. "There is a war ongoing in Molgrath, you know... the other world. I think Yggdrasil intends to send reinforcements there, and that¡¯s why this Trial is being rushed."


    "But newly ascended warriors wouldn¡¯t be strong enough to fight in such a war," Eleanor countered. "It sounds reckless. Some of the beings in those realms far exceed ascendant level, don¡¯t they?"


    "You¡¯re misunderstanding," Fiona corrected her. "Yggdrasil may send powerful ascendants to that war. But their departure would leave a vacuum on Earth. The newly ascended heirs would fill that void and maintain bnce."


    Eleanor fell silent for a moment. "So, there¡¯s no way to avoid this Trial. Can¡¯t you talk to the king? Maybe convince him to dy the process a few years? After ten years, Freya will be fifteen. I¡¯d be ready then. But right now... it¡¯s too risky. And even if I survive, how will she manage a month without hearing from me?"


    "It¡¯s not just a month," Fiona said gently. "You¡¯ll be away for at least three. The first two months will be spent at the academy, training under the fairies and dragons. Only after that will you be permitted to enter the Trial."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes widened. "Three months? Can I at least contact Freya during training?"


    "It¡¯s simr to a human military academy," Fiona exined. "You¡¯ll have limited contact. One day off each week... you can leave the academy on that day and speak with the outside world."


    "That¡¯s... better than nothing, I suppose," Eleanor sighed. "But I don¡¯t know much about the academy or the Trial itself. Can you exin?"


    "The academy is fairly straightforward," Fiona said. "Yggdrasil sends a maximum of fifty participants at a time for the Trial. Usually, each batch trains at the academy first. Those who pass the training phase are allowed to enter the Trial. Those who fail get one more chance in the next batch. Everyone is given only two attempts. If they fail both times, they lose the chance to be ascendants."


    "I wanted to know what the training involves," Eleanor rified.


    "It¡¯s nothing you can¡¯t handle," Fiona said reassuringly. "No member of the Raynor n has ever failed. The academy involves a lot of reading and acquiring knowledge about the Trial and the other worlds. And we Raynors excel in academics. There¡¯s also some physical training, but it¡¯sparable to thebat regimen in our n. Nothing extreme."


    "What about the Trial itself?" Eleanor asked.


    "It¡¯s different for everyone," Fiona exined. "Before the Trial, Yggdrasil will mark you and teleport you to a world called Vanaheim. That realm is saturated with magical and spiritual energy. Its terrain mirrors Earth... lush forests, vast deserts, icy regions, and boundless oceans. But there will be no humans or other supernatural races from Earth. Although there are some local inhabitants, they are more or less mindless creatures. Yggdrasil¡¯s teleportation is always random. You¡¯re guaranteed to reach Vanaheim, but which region you appear in depends on your elemental affinity."


    She paused, then continued, "Each regiones with its own strengths and risks. Once there, you must survive for a month and gather as many resources as possible. These resources will form the foundation of your ascension. After a month, Yggdrasil¡¯s mark activates and brings you back to Earth automatically."


    Eleanor frowned. "How can someone be an ascendant just by surviving there for a month?"


    "In the academy," Fiona said, "you¡¯ll be taught different cultivation techniques, as well as the experiences of powerful ascendants who came before. You¡¯ll study books on core development and energy transformation. Some recent batches even experienced simted ascension through virtual reality. Once you¡¯re in Vanaheim, you¡¯ll know what to do."


    "What technique should I choose?" Eleanor asked.


    "When you arrive in Vanaheim," Fiona said, "your primary task will be to find a temple of the Forgotten Goddess. These temples are scattered all over... sometimes in ruined cities, sometimes as lone structures in deserts, inds, or caves. It¡¯s said that the temples are the true reason for the randomized teleportation."


    Seeing Eleanor¡¯s interest in the topic, she added, "Each temple contains a trial. Everyone faces a different challenge, even at the same temple. The greater the difficulty, the better the reward. Those whoplete the trial receive a unique cultivation technique engraved directly into their minds."


    "What about the techniques taught at the academy?" Eleanor asked.


    "Those are a backup," Fiona replied. "Some people have died previously without ever finding a temple. That happens when someone ends up on an isted ind or deep in the desert. After teleportation, you have only seven days to begin cultivation. Otherwise, you¡¯ll die. Our Earthly bodies can retain full strength in Vanaheim for just three days. After that, your strength fades quickly. By the seventh day, you¡¯ll be too weak to move. By the tenth, you¡¯ll perish."


    She paused, then continued, "To prevent this, the academy teaches everyone a basic cultivation technique. It¡¯s easy to learn and lets you survive, but its potential is limited. To be a powerful ascendant, you must find your own technique."


    "Who is the Forgotten Goddess?" Eleanor asked. "Why are her temples giving out these techniques?"


    "We only know what we¡¯ve seen from the statues," Fiona said. "Each one depicts the same goddess, but no one remembers her name. When someone touches her feet in reverence, the trial begins. Itsts three days. If you pass, a unique technique appears in your mind. If you fail... you die. That¡¯s all we know."


    "From the beginning, countless ascendants have passed through these temples, but none remember the goddess¡¯s name. So, we call her the Forgotten Goddess. Even Yggdrasil hasn¡¯t exined who she is or how this works. We only know the basics."


    Eleanor asked, "Is Vanaheim in the same world where many of our ancestors now reside?"


    "No," Fiona shook her head. "Vanaheim is another world. It serves more as a base camp. It¡¯s ideal for forming a core and achieving ascendance, but it¡¯s not meant for long-term habitation. The spiritual energy there is rich, but strangely, nothing edible exists. Everything acts like poison in our bodies. Water there looks the same as the Earth, but still acts like poison in us."


    "That¡¯s why the key is to create your core as soon as possible. Once you do, you can survive by absorbing Vanaheim¡¯s rich spiritual energy directly. Still, that world has limitations. No one can progress beyond the core ascendant stage there. Even the native beasts and creatures are limited to that level. So, it¡¯s best to leave as soon as you reach ascendance."


    After hearing this, Eleanor fell silent. A storm of uncertainty swirled within her. She didn¡¯t know what to do... how could she exin to Freya that she would have to leave for such a long time? The thought alone felt like a betrayal. How could she prepare a child so young to face weeks of absence, without breaking her heart?

 Chapter 156: The Greymoore Elders

    <h4>Chapter 156: The Greymoore Elders</h4>


    The king¡¯s sudden order had a vastly different impact on the independent and vassal werewolf ns. In the past, their young warriors had to work under the ten great ns or enlist in the military to have even a slight chance of entering the Trial of Yggdrasil. Some wealthy independent ns resorted to buying slots for their most promising youths.


    But this time, the king¡¯s directive changed everything.


    He directly tasked the Arbiter n with organizing a grandpetition to select the ten strongest warriors among all eligible werewolf youths. Following themand, the Arbiter n issued a worldwide announcement: all werewolves under the age of one hundred were invited to participate in the preliminary selection round, to be held in the coliseum at Lunergarde during the first ten days of the following month.


    Entry required only a fee of 10,000 dors.


    The rules were simple. Each participant would face off in a one-on-one duel against a newly developed robotic warrior. Victory meant immediate advancement to the second round, which would begin on the 11th.


    These robotic warriors had been developed under the supervision of the Lychos n, in coboration with various werewolf scientists. The king intended for this robot army to serve under his directmand in the future. Though rumours of these machines had circted for years, this would be their first appearance in public. Thepetition served two purposes: to help in the selection process... and to conduct a real-time field test of the robot warriors. The data gathered would be used to improve future models.


    No one truly knew the robots¡¯bat capabilities. Yet countless young fighters around the globe were ecstatic. Many believed they could triumph and earn their ce in the Trial. Even those uncertain of final victory saw value in the challenge... an opportunity to test their abilities and gain recognition. The entire werewolf world began preparing in a state of excited anticipation.


    Meanwhile, the army under the Warlord n received a separate order. Ten of their strongest members under one hundred years of age would also be granted a ce in the Trial. The news came as no surprise... joining the army had always been a viable path to ascension. Unlike the openpetitions, internal selection within the army was straightforward; power rankings were already well known. Identifying the top ten was merely a formality.


    While the global werewolfmunity buzzed with enthusiasm, the Greymoore n was in disarray.


    The recent Stockport Scandal had shaken the very foundation of their thousand-year political legacy. In a single stroke, many of their longstanding allies... powerful political families... were exposed for corruption and criminal activities. Their downfall was swift, and chances for aeback in the near future were bleak.


    Though the Greymoore n still retained a few supporters in the House of Commons and Lords, their key figures were gone. Despite having investments in multiple industries, their primary business had always been construction, heavily reliant on government contracts... contracts that were often secured through their political influence.


    The impact of their recent losses had already begun to show. In thest few weeks alone, they had lost several major government tenders... contracts they would have easily secured in the past. The n members, already demoralized after the humiliating duel defeat, grew increasingly restless. As their frustrations mounted, they demanded the Elderse out of seclusion to address the crisis.


    When Grand Elder George Greymoore heard of the unrest, his fury was immediate. He summoned the Elders for an emergency meeting.


    The gathering took ce in a luxurious vi nestled within the woods of East Sheen Common, in the London Borough of Richmond. Unlike the Raynor n, where a single matriarch or patriarch held central authority, the Greymoore n was ruled by its Elder Council. Only those who had lived more than five hundred years and held prominent roles in the n¡¯s history could be Elders. The Grand Elder wielded ultimate authority and had the power to appoint the acting n leader, whom they called patriarch or matriarch. While the council mostly lived in istion due to their age, they would intervene in critical moments.


    Now, the time hade.


    Alistair Greymoore, the current patriarch, stood in the grand hall of the vi. His head hung low, eyes avoiding the stern gazes of those seated before him. Seven imposing old men and two elderly women sat in a semicircle of high-backed chairs. Though one chair was reserved for Alistair, he dared not sit without permission.


    "Alistair," Grand Elder George said sternly, "don¡¯t just stand there. You know why we¡¯re here. Tell us everything... from the beginning."


    Clearing his dry throat, Alistair began.


    "It all started with Ethan Raynor¡¯s aggressive expansion into the construction industry. He began in Manchester. Within just five years, he dominated that market, then expanded into Trafford, Salford, Oldham, and Rochdale. The real trouble began when he entered Tameside and won contracts we had intended to award to the Brown Family."


    He paused, looking at the Elders. "You all know the Browns of Stockport. We¡¯ve supported them for centuries. They were both a business and political powerhouse in that region. But then, Ethan met with Stockport¡¯s mayor and began efforts to rece Oliver Brown as MP. I knew a conflict was brewing. I was searching for a peaceful resolution."


    A female Elder spoke coldly. "Why didn¡¯t you reach out to Fiona Raynor? Ethan may be young and reckless, but Fiona has always been diplomatic. She¡¯s even ceded business opportunities to smaller ns in the past. It was just a small territory. I¡¯ve worked with her myself... many times. You should¡¯ve let me negotiate."


    Alistair bowed his head slightly. "I did consider meeting her. But before I could act, representatives from the Leroux n contacted my son, Lucian. They knew about the tension between the Browns and Ethan. They proposed a duel between Lucian and Ethan to settle things decisively. Everyone knew Ethan was considered a weakling. Despite being an Alpha, he wasn¡¯t part of the Raynor n Council, which only reinforced the belief that his foundation was fragile."


    He continued, "Lucian had already awakened our bloodline powers. He believed the duel would be easy. Besides, the Raynor n didn¡¯t seem to have another Alpha of suitable age to stand for Ethan. He assumed either Ethan would lose... or he¡¯d forfeit the match altogether."


    He paused again, gauging the Elders¡¯ expressions... grim and disappointed.


    "After Lucian came to me, I initially rejected the idea. I didn¡¯t want to risk provoking the Raynors. But then, the Leroux n offered ten million pounds to go along with their n. I declined again. That¡¯s when they offered something else... an advanced body-strengthening technique from the Fenroth n, designed toplement our Earth-based abilities. Plus, one month of specialized training for Lucian in the Fenroth n."


    He lowered his voice. "That time... I agreed. I truly believed Ethan couldn¡¯t win. I also never imagined they would retaliate by attacking our entire political foundation."


    George Greymoore scoffed loudly, his voice like thunder in the hall.


    "Fool!" he barked. "For thousands of years, the Raynor n has been one of the Ten Great ns. No one... no one challenged their authority and escaped unscathed. Have you already forgotten what happened in North America? The Leroux n killed fifteen Raynor members. In retaliation, the Raynors hunted down over two hundred Leroux werewolves across the globe. Everyone knows the Leroux n has been looking for ways to destabilize them since then."


    He leaned forward, his eyes burning with fury.


    "And you... you let them use my n as a pawn for some petty gains. Can¡¯t you see? They used you to distract the Raynors while they pursued something else. And you took the bait... for a few coins and a minor technique. What made you think the Raynors would sit quietly after being provoked by a n as small as ours?"


    Alistair lowered his head even further. Although he was technically George¡¯s brother¡¯s grandson, the Grand Elder had always loved him like his own. Seeing the once-proud young man brought so low softened George¡¯s mood... if only slightly.


    He sighed and asked in a quieter voice, "Do you even know what the Leroux n was doing while you were busy setting up that foolish duel?"


    Alistair hesitated, then answered, "Not exactly. But I¡¯ve heard some things. A Chinese-British family with known ties to the Leroux recentlyunched arge-scale project in Coventry... they¡¯re manufacturingmunication equipment. I suspect it¡¯s a front for a Leroux investment."


    George¡¯s eyes narrowed. "And how did the Raynors respond to this?"


    Alistair shook his head. "They didn¡¯t. No visible reaction, no public statement. It was as if they didn¡¯t care."


    "That¡¯s... odd," George muttered. "The Leroux n makes a move on British soil, and the Raynors remain silent? That¡¯s not like them. I¡¯ve only been in seclusion for twenty years. What¡¯s changed during that time? Has Fiona Raynor stepped down?"


    Alistair quickly answered, "No. She¡¯s still the official n Head and remains active. But there¡¯s something else... something you should know."


    George raised an eyebrow. "Go on."


    Alistair continued, "About five years ago, a young woman appeared out of nowhere. She was barely twenty-five back then. She was introduced as the new sessor of the Raynor n. They call her the Young Miss. Ever since then, Fiona has distanced herself from business and started traveling extensively."


    George¡¯s expression darkened. "You mean to say... Fiona handed over the reins to a child?"


    "Not exactly," Alistair rified. "From what I¡¯ve learned, the girl doesn¡¯t run the n directly. She built her own tech empire... in the United States. A massive one. Just recently, she opened a branch in Manchester. And her personal worth... reportedly exceeds two hundred billion dors."


    George leaned back slowly, absorbing the information. "Another Raynor prodigy..."


    "She¡¯s more of a demon rather than a prodigy," Alistair muttered. "In the business world, she¡¯s infamous. She¡¯s been used of crushing rivalpanies, hostile takeovers, even murder. People call her the She-Devil in the States. Others refer to her as Rhiannon, because of her unnatural beauty. And these aren¡¯t just baseless rumours. I¡¯m sure many of the usations are true."


    He hesitated, then added, "In her first month back in the Kingdom, she acquired more than tenpanies. Just like that."


    As George listened, his face grew steadily grimmer. The air around him thickened, the room falling into a heavy silence.


    Finally, he spoke, voice low and cold.


    "Now I understand... what has changed in the Raynor n."

 Chapter 157: Reason Behind Actions

    <h4>Chapter 157: Reason Behind Actions</h4>


    Everyone in the room was lost in their own thoughts and calctions. After a long silence, George Greymoore finally spoke.


    "Alistair, what exactly do you know about this girl... Fiona¡¯s sessor?"


    Alistair hesitated. "Her name is Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. She awakened their ancestral bloodline five years ago. After that, the Raynor n publicly introduced her as their Young Miss. She began appearing at various events, always with Fiona. But three years ago, she moved to the United States and started her own business. Since then, she¡¯s mostly stayed there. A few months ago, she returned to the Kingdom and opened a new office in Manchester."


    He added, "Over the past three years, she avoided all social gatherings except for business-rted ones. Fiona has been handling supernatural events and meetings on her own since Eleanor¡¯s second year abroad."


    George narrowed his eyes. "You¡¯re missing my point. I don¡¯t want surface-level facts. Who are her parents? What was her upbringing like? How did she behave as a werewolf? What was she doing before Fiona named her sessor? Do you know anything about that?"


    Alistair lowered his head. "No, Grand Elder. I don¡¯t have detailed information about her early life. But Margot gathered some intelligence when Eleanor began making waves in the U.S. She¡¯s outside now."


    George nodded. "Call her in."


    Alistair walked over to the door, opened it slightly, and called for Margot Greymoore. She had arrived from Canada just hours earlier to attend the emergency meeting.


    A few momentster, a beautiful middle-aged woman entered the room and gave a respectful bow.


    "Margot Greymoore pays her respects to the Elders."


    Alistair closed the door behind her to ensure their conversation remained private.


    George got straight to the point. "Margot, what do you know about Eleanor Raynor?"


    The question startled her, but she recovered quickly. "I¡¯ve collected some information... mostly from her time in the U.S. My husband works in the tech industry, and she¡¯s probably thergest single investor in Silicon Valley right now."


    George cut her off. "I don¡¯t care about her business ventures. I want to know about her. Alistair said she emerged five years ago. But what was she doing before that? No one just pops out with the Elizabeth bloodline out of nowhere."


    Margot¡¯s expression turned serious. "Believe it or not, she really did just pop out. I tried to uncover her past, but it was like hitting a wall. Her story begins exactly five years ago. No one could confirm her parentage or background."


    She continued, "ording to human records, she was listed as an orphan, found wandering the streets by Adrian Raynor and Selene Raynor. They adopted her legally, and since she was already an adult, no one looked into her guardianship. She has no known memories of her family and ims to have grown up on the streets. That¡¯s the official version."


    "I even bribed officials topare her photo and name across national databases in multiple countries. No matches... no records... nothing."


    She paused, then added, "So I turned to the Raynor n. No one there had seen or heard of her before she was dered Fiona¡¯s sessor. But I did hear rumours. One said she was the child of a distant Raynor branch and was hidden by Fiona because of her potential to awaken the Elizabeth bloodline. Once she awakened, Fiona introduced her to the n."


    Another rumour was... more interesting.


    "Some say she¡¯s actually Fiona and Adrian¡¯s daughter. But that doesn¡¯t make sense. Eleanor has a child of her own, and ording to human documents, Ethan Raynor is listed as the father. If that¡¯s true, the Raynor n would never tolerate a rtionship between siblings. But even that is odd... Ethan and Eleanor never appeared together at events. Even now, both live in Manchester, but in separate homes."


    With a sigh, she concluded, "That¡¯s all I could find on her past. As a person, she¡¯s vicious... brutal to the extreme. In the U.S., she allegedly killed several business rivals, all of whom were weak humans. She has no morality, no sense of restraint. I don¡¯t think she even cares about the Raynor n¡¯s reputation. She does what she wants."


    She paused, then added, "The FBI linked her to multiple murder cases, but each time, she was saved... either by the State of California, where she¡¯s a VIP due to her investments, or by the U.S. Army."


    An elder frowned. "Why would the U.S. Army protect her like that?"


    Margot replied, "It¡¯s about interest. One of herpanies is a top supplier of unmanned weapon systems to the military. That samepany is guarded by army personnel and doesn¡¯t sell to anyone else. She¡¯s also heavily involved in the space industry, havingunched multiple satellites. Her influence runs deep in the U.S. Army."


    George said, "Fine. Compile a full report and dig deeper. I want everything you can find on her. Go and do it fast."


    "Yes, Grand Elder," Margot bowed again and left the room.


    When the door closed, George turned to Alistair.


    "There¡¯s no point dwelling on the Raynor n now. If I had to guess, Fiona wasn¡¯t behind this incident. She¡¯s never been one to attack from the shadows. This Eleanor girl has clearly changed the dynamics. Whether Fiona knew or not... we¡¯ll find out in time."


    He paused, then said, "Now tell me... what do we actually know about the event? What¡¯s the extent of our loss?"


    Alistair sighed, then said, "ording to my investigation, a masked man approached several politicians and ckmailed them into exposing Oliver Brown¡¯s secret vault. He waspletely covered in ck. I suspect he¡¯s from the nc n, but I couldn¡¯t link him directly to either the ncs or the Raynors. No known vehicle, no financial activity traced back to them."


    He continued, "The scandal didn¡¯t just affect our people. It took down many other political figures. I suspect Oliver had some evidence on them and was using it to strengthen his position, but not on this scale. My theory is that the evidence was nted... yet it was surprisingly real. All the exposed crimes were valid, and arrests followed. Their political careers are over."


    "By the looks of it, this wasn¡¯t just an attack on us. It was broader, with another goal behind it." He added.


    George leaned forward. "Who benefited the most?"


    Alistair answered, "Baron Anthony Chapman. His father, Baron Hayward Chapman, worked with us in the past. I investigated Anthony. No link to the Raynors. In fact, he avoided political positions until now. This time, he was forced by his party to be the prime ministerial candidate."


    He paused, then added, "I even met him a few days ago. He¡¯s not ambitious... his wife is dead, he has no heirs, and no interest in power. If his party finds someone else, he¡¯ll dly step aside. But if he bes Prime Minister, I believe he could support us. That said, controlling someone like him would be nearly impossible."


    George frowned. "This still doesn¡¯t make sense. Why would anyone go so far... destroying long-standing political families... just to achieve nothing? I get the Raynors targeting the Brown family. Killing Oliver? That¡¯s understandable. But why shake the entire kingdom?"


    He scanned the room. The elders sat in thoughtful silence.


    Finally, Alistair offered, "To distract us and the authorities from their true objective?"


    A few elders shook their heads. One spoke up. "I don¡¯t believe it was that simple. There must be a clear motive. This was a nationwide upheaval. If the Raynors only wanted revenge, they could¡¯ve just eliminated the Browns. We aren¡¯t the only yers in this kingdom. What are the other factions saying?"


    Alistair responded, "I¡¯ve spoken with representatives from other families and factions. No one knows who orchestrated it. Everyone¡¯s pointing fingers at each other. Oddly enough, only we suspect the Raynors. To most, they¡¯re just a business family. Their view is simple... leave them alone, and they¡¯ll leave you alone."


    George nodded grimly. "That¡¯s always been the truth. Raynors never meddled in politics. We provoked them. No one else realizes it yet."


    Then he added, more to himself than anyone else, "But if we were the Raynor n... what would our goal have been?"


    The room fell into silence once again. After a couple of minutes, an elder finally spoke.


    "The Raynor n has changed. There¡¯s no point in guessing their motives anymore. I believe we should gather concrete evidence of their involvement before forming a meaningful strategy. That way, we can take preventive action to protect our n from further harm. In the meantime, I propose that the Grand Elder step forward and temporarily assume control of the n. That will help calm our increasingly restless members. Once the storm has passed, Alistair can be reinstated."


    Another elder nodded in agreement. "I support this approach. But before Alistair steps down, he should send a formal letter to the king, detailing how the Raynor n sabotaged our businesses and political standing. It may not bring immediate results, but it will put pressure on them and might limit their future actions. After that, we will publicly frame this as entirely Alistair¡¯s failure, forcing him to step down. Then, the Grand Elder can initiate a diplomatic meeting with Fiona Raynor to resolve the issue, at least temporarily."


    George exhaled slowly. "Alistair, we don¡¯t have much of a choice. You¡¯ll have to make this sacrifice for the good of the n. But make sure you don¡¯t tell anyone about this arrangement... that you¡¯ll returnter. Act as if we truly stripped you of power because of your mistakes. If the Raynor n finds out this is all part of a ploy, it could backfire severely."


    He paused, then added, "In the meantime, you¡¯ll have plenty of free time, now that you won¡¯t be involved in n affairs. Use it wisely. Start cultivating new political alliances... build freshworks of influence. We¡¯ll need that power base to regain our hold over the kingdom."


    Alistair stepped forward and gave a deep bow to the council.


    "Thank you, Elders, for your continued faith in me. I promise... I will do everything I can to help our n rise again. We will reim our position in the kingdom."

 Chapter 158: Second - of Her Life

    <h4>Chapter 158: Second Chapter of Her Life</h4>


    The days were passing peacefully for La Hasanovi?, former Captain of the Jaeger Corps, Denmark¡¯s elite Special Operations Division. Her life in the Kingdom was so tranquil that she sometimes wondered if it was all just a dream.


    After being dishonourably discharged from the Danish Army, she had fled to Russia and worked under Imperial Heaven, evading an Interpol arrest warrant for five long years. During that time, she never imagined she¡¯d one day enjoy a peaceful life again.


    Everything had changed the day she fought Raphael nc, and that idiotic man had the nerve to ask his boss to bring her to the Kingdom. Despite the thousands of questions swirling in her mind, she decided to take a leap of faith. Her job under Imperial Heaven had been slowly destroying her from within.


    Now, that leap had proven to be the right one.


    She lived a peaceful, disciplined life here. No one asked her to do anything shady or bothered her outside her working hours. She had a real identity now... La Monroe, a proud citizen of the Kingdom with a valid passport and a respected job.


    La now served as the Protocol Officer to the Chairman of Heimdall Technologies Limited. She also oversaw security operations at Nexabyte Technology¡¯s Trafford Command Center. Though she juggled two jobs, technology made her work efficient... and truthfully, it didn¡¯t take much of her time.


    But she couldn¡¯t rx.


    Her biggest concern wasn¡¯t the workload... it was the safety of her Chairman, Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor.


    That concern wasn¡¯t even part of her job description. As protocol officer, her responsibilities were clearly defined: schedule management, security coordination, travel logistics, and discretion. It was all there in the contract.


    Yet reality told a different story.


    From the moment she moved into the viplex where Eleanor lived, La felt like she had entered another world. Other employees lived there too, but the security shocked her to her core. Having seen the elite level of protection around Eleanor, La quickly realized the job wasn¡¯t as simple as it looked on paper.


    She had experience with NATO¡¯s most advanced weaponry during her special ops missions. But here? Ordinary security guards carried customized versions of those weapons like they were nothing. Each of them exuded the presence of a battle-hardened soldier. La was certain... every guard here was stronger than she was.


    Themand center of this viplex had surveince systems so advanced, they bordered on science fiction. She once witnessed a tiny magpie trigger an alert, only to be tracked continuously by automated cameras until it flew out of range. All this, just for the protection of one woman.


    But considering Eleanor¡¯s massive wealth, it all made sense. The young woman was worth more than ten times Denmark¡¯s national budget. With that kind of financial strength, La¡¯s sense of responsibility only deepened.


    She had lost her family young. Starting over in a foreignnd wasn¡¯t easy. But she was grateful for this second chance... not everyone got one. She¡¯d grown close to Teresa, Cassandra, and Anastasiya, who lived in the same viplex. Sometimes Maya and Lily visited and stayed over. They all knew her real identity, which helped her settle in.


    She didn¡¯t have any other friends outside this circle, except for Raphael. He visited her from time to time, and over the past few weeks, they had really grown close. She could tell that he was in love with her. And truthfully, she liked him too... this seemingly foolish man who always wore a goofy grin whenever he was around her.


    From a distance, she¡¯d seen him act like a dignified soldier while on duty... serious, disciplined, professional. But the moment he saw her, he turned into a clumsy fool... stumbling over nothing, grinning like a teenager. It was obvious to everyone around them what was going on. And yet, Raphael had never confessed his feelings.


    That morning, La was sitting in the lobby of her vi, lost in thought, waiting for Raphael. It was her day off, and he had invited her out for lunch. She was thinking about how far her life hade... when the doorbell rang.


    She stood up and opened the door.


    Just as she had expected, Raphael was standing there, his trademark grin in ce. His eyes locked on her and didn¡¯t move. He didn¡¯t say a word.


    The weather outside was slightly chilly, with the sun hangingzily in the sky. La wore a pink overcoat over sky-blue jeans and a deep red top. She hadn¡¯t done much makeup, just a light touch of lipstick... a soft, red hue.


    That little detail did the trick.


    Raphael was captivated. He had never seen her with red lips before, and for a few seconds, he couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from them. The way he stared made La slightly ufortable, so she gave a small clearing of her throat.


    He snapped out of it immediately.


    "Let¡¯s go," he said, finally finding his voice. "I¡¯ll take you to my favourite restaurant."


    La didn¡¯t say anything. She simply smiled faintly and followed him outside to the car waiting for them.


    Once inside, Raphael said, "It¡¯ll take about half an hour. We¡¯ll drive through the suburbs... the scenery is really beautiful this time of year."


    "Uhmm," La responded, settling into her seat.


    Raphael didn¡¯t talk much during the drive. He seemed a little tense. He took Oldham Road, turned right onto Ashton Road at Failsworth, then followed it to Cutler Hill Road. After more than half an hour of smooth driving, he finally stopped in front of an unassuming off-white building.


    La read the sign, "Sul Lago Ristorante Pizzeria."


    It was clearly an Italian restaurant.


    After getting out of the car, Raphael led her up a narrow staircase to the first floor. A small gate bore a sign that read CLOSED, but Raphael ignored it and walked in like he owned the ce. La followed, a bit curious.


    Several staff members inside came forward with warm greetings. It was obvious they knew Raphael well. One of them escorted the pair through the restaurant to a beautiful outdoor area where tables were arranged on a lush greenwn.


    The air was fresh, the surroundings peaceful. A quiet river flowed nearby, shimmering under the sunlight.


    La instantly fell in love with the setting.


    After they were seated, she nced at Raphael and asked, "Did you book the whole ce just for us?"


    Raphael nodded, his grin reappearing. "Yeah. Just for our lunch. They open to the public in the evening. We¡¯ve got at least four hours alone here. Order anything you like... the food will blow your mind."


    This chapter is updated by freew(e)bnovel.(c)om

 Chapter 159: Mismatched Confession

    <h4>Chapter 159: Mismatched Confession</h4>


    "You¡¯re a regr here. Order your favourite dishes. I¡¯ll follow your lead today," La said with a gentle smile.


    Raphael didn¡¯t hesitate. He called a staff member and ordered a series of dishes with the familiarity of someone who had done it a hundred times.


    As starters, he chose Cmari Fritti and Fungi Trifti. For the main course, Monte Faito and Pollo Ciatora, with extra ck pepper sauce. Finally, for dessert, he selected a decadent chocte-encased cherry mousse.


    Once the order was ced, Raphael offered to show La around. The restaurant grounds were tranquil, with ducks and birds moving gracefully across a glisteningke, adding life to the serene atmosphere.


    A few minutester, a staff member returned with their starters and a bottle of Sassicaia Tenuta San Guido 1985... a rare vintage Raphael had ordered in advance.


    After the table was set, they both sat down and began eating. La savored the moment. After the chaos of her military life, this was the first time she¡¯d felt this rxed and at peace while dining out.


    She nced at Raphael now and then, trying to read his expression. As a woman, she could feel it in her bones... Raphael was preparing to propose. She waited, her heart lightly fluttering in anticipation.


    But the food came and went. The wine flowed. Yet Raphael only spoke of food, taste, and textures.


    No proposal.


    They lingered in the restaurant for a while, soaking in the peaceful ambiance, and finally stood to leave. After settling the bill, Raphael led her out of the restaurant and across the parking area. Instead of heading straight to the car, they strolled along the walkway by theke.


    La was mildly surprised to learn that this was Crime Lake, formed identally during the construction of the Hollinwood Branch Canal. Raphael knew the entire history and recounted it with such ease that she couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    Although slightly disappointed that he still hadn¡¯t proposed, La began to let go of her expectations. The setting, the walk, thepany... it was all enough. For now.


    A silver sheet of water stretched beneath a canopy of whispering trees, their leaves dancing like secrets in the wind. The air carried a cool, green hush... scented with damp earth and wildflowers. A lone waterbird glided across the surface, disturbing the stillness just enough to remind them they were in a living world.


    Time seemed to slow down.


    The surrounding woods leaned inward protectively, their shadows casting gentle patterns on theke. Here, the sky and trees merged like old memories braided together. The earth beneath their feet seemed soaked in forgotten stories... softened by moss, scattered with leaves.


    This was a ce where grief could rest, where dreams could breathe. A ce where the past echoed... not in pain, but in quiet, lingering grace.


    La felt that she belonged here, as if she, too, had be part of one of those stories whispered by the wind.


    They walked until the restaurant was out of sight. Then Raphael suddenly stopped. La sensed the change and turned to face him.


    Their eyes met.


    Aside from the rustle of leaves and a distant bird¡¯s cry, silence stretched between them.


    Raphael spoke first, his voice strained, rushing and awkward.


    "La, I¡¯ve never had a girlfriend before. I don¡¯t know how to propose or say anything properly. But the moment I saw you in Russia, I knew... I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I was scared that once you found out who I really am, you¡¯d leave. I gathered all my courage today to tell you this. If you don¡¯t feel the same, I¡¯ll wait and try againter. But if you do... then you¡¯ll have a big decision to make. So... what¡¯s your answer?"


    He spoke so quickly, it was as if he feared forgetting his lines.


    La gave a softugh and shook her head. "Fool! Can¡¯t you see I already like you? I think everyone but you already knows."


    Raphael looked stunned, then hopeful. "Do you really like me? As in... boyfriend material? Or husband?"


    La smiled, this time with a touch of frustration. She could see how nervous he was. "Yes, Raphael. I do. And if you promise never to leave me, I¡¯ll be whatever you want me to be."


    Relief washed over Raphael¡¯s face like sunlight through storm clouds. His eyes lit up.


    "In my family," he said, "everyone spends their life with one partner. I knew you were my fated one the moment I saw you. Even if the boss hadn¡¯t allowed it, I would¡¯ve gone back for you. I didn¡¯t say it back then, but I¡¯m pretty sure she knew what I meant when I asked to bring you along."


    Then his face tensed again. His voice dropped, trembling slightly.


    "La... I know you¡¯ve lost your family. I could marry you and take you to meet mine. But if you truly want to be with me, you¡¯ll need to leave your old life behind. My family isn¡¯t... normal. You¡¯ve already met some of them... Cassandra, the vi guards, my security team. We¡¯re not bad people, but we are different. If you want to marry me, you¡¯ll have to be like us. Only then will my family ept you."


    La exhaled sharply, visibly annoyed. "Why are you saying all this now? I already know you all came from the same family. Did you forget my background? I may not be as strong as you physically... but I¡¯m not stupid."


    She stepped forward, her eyes firm. "I want a family. I¡¯ve never had one. I don¡¯t care what your past is, or what kind of shady history your family has. I¡¯ve killed hundreds of people in my life too. If you can ept me for who I am, I¡¯ll ept you for whatever you are. As long as you stay by my side like this... I have noints."


    Raphael looked utterly torn, caught between relief and confusion. He opened his mouth but couldn¡¯t find the words.


    Finally, he sighed and pulled out his phone.


    After two rings, the line connected.


    "Boss," he said, "I need your help. La and I agreed to marry, but... I don¡¯t know how to exin my situation to her."


    On the other end, Eleanor¡¯s reply was simple and decisive.


    "I¡¯m at home."

 Chapter 160: A Decision Must Be Made

    <h4>Chapter 160: A Decision Must Be Made</h4>


    It was a peaceful evening. Eleanor sat in her study, reviewing documents on herptop. The files were from her Indianpanies, awaiting her approval. Their progress had been surprisingly rapid, far exceeding her expectations. She had high hopes for them.


    Ever since she involved the Naga n, development in the region had elerated exponentially. The Nagas were not only well-respected but also deeply influential in southern India. Eleanor was quietly grateful to Rashmika Harivamsa for suggesting that partnership.


    Although Samantha Nagavanshi didn¡¯t appear serious at first nce, she had proven to be highly effective in decision-making and navigating local authorities.


    Ethan was upstairs, ying with Freya in her room, leaving Eleanorpletely immersed in her business. The only sound in the study was the soft rhythm of her fingers tapping across the keyboard.


    A knock interrupted her focus.


    Without looking up, she called out, "Come in."


    The door opened, and the butler entered with a slight bow.


    "Ma¡¯am, Raphael and Miss La are here to see you. They said they had an appointment."


    Eleanor nced at the clock, then nodded. "Where are they now?"


    "They¡¯re waiting downstairs."


    "Good. Send them up."


    The butler bowed again and exited the room. A few momentster, there was another knock.


    "Come in," she said again, this time continuing to type without looking away from her screen.


    Raphael and La entered the room. Raphael gave a respectful bow while La stood silently, her posture polite.


    "Good evening, ma¡¯am," they greeted in near unison.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t lift her eyes from the screen. "Have a seat. I need to check these files first. Make yourselvesfortable."


    There was only one chair in front of her desk. Raphael gestured for La to sit and fetched another chair for himself from the corner of the room. The two sat quietly, waiting as Eleanor finished her work.


    After a few minutes, Eleanor finally closed theptop and looked up. She studied them carefully... Raphael looked tense, while La wore an expression of curiosity mixed with mild boredom.


    "How can I help you?" Eleanor asked.


    Raphael spoke quickly, "I proposed to her. We¡¯ve decided to get married. I tried exining my situation, but... I don¡¯t know how to tell her about my race."


    Eleanor nodded, as if she¡¯d been expecting this. She turned to La.


    "La, are you certain you want to spend the rest of your life with Raphael?"


    La didn¡¯t hesitate. "I think so."


    "I want you to be absolutely sure," Eleanor said firmly. "Once you make this choice, there¡¯s no going back."


    "Raphael told me the same thing," La replied. "But I don¡¯t have anywhere else to go. As long as he stays with me, I have no problem."


    Eleanor leaned forward slightly. "Let me ask you a hypothetical question. Suppose you and Raphael lived together for five hundred years... would you still want that kind of life with him?"


    La blinked. That question caught her off guard. "Five hundred years? That was impossible... wasn¡¯t it?" she thought.


    But this wasn¡¯t the first time someone had said something strange. First Raphael, now hr boss. Her intuition told her this wasn¡¯t just a weird test. Something was off... seriously off.


    After a moment¡¯s thought, she said quietly, "If that¡¯s the case... I wouldn¡¯t mind. I have no problem spending my life with him... no matter how long it is."


    Eleanor nodded, satisfied. "Good. What I¡¯m about to tell you... or show you... must remain within this room. I need your consent to ept everything with an open mind. Do you agree?"


    La hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. I agree."


    Eleanor leaned back in her chair. "Very well. What I¡¯m about to reveal is something we do not share with ordinary humans. We live among you, but we are not entirely the same. We belong to a world hidden from humans... the supernatural world. In that world, werewolves, vampires, dragons, fairies and other races coexist."


    La chuckled. "I¡¯ve read about them. Sounds like something from a fantasy novel."


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze grew colder. "What if I told you it¡¯s all real? And that your beloved Raphael... is a werewolf."


    La turned to Raphael, her expression frozen. She looked back at Eleanor, trying to find a hint of a joke in her face.


    "You¡¯re joking... aren¡¯t you, ma¡¯am?"


    But Eleanor¡¯s expression was unreadable. Her silence said more than words.


    Then, she gave amand. "Raphael. Transform to your true form."


    Raphael hesitated for a second but trusted Eleanorpletely. He stood up and shifted.


    Before La¡¯s eyes, Raphael transformed into a majestic ck wolf.


    La¡¯s breath caught in her throat.


    What stood in front of her was no ordinary animal... it was a massive, elegant creature, over ten feet long, with sleek ck fur that shimmered faintly under the lights. His glowing yellow eyes met hers, not with ferocity... but with a kind of surprising sorrow, almost... pleading.


    La was frozen in shock.


    "This," Eleanor said calmly, "is his true form. He is a werewolf. In fact, we all are. We hide our identities from the human world and live peacefully among you. Raphael couldn¡¯t tell you himself because of ourws. Once a human discovers our identity, there are only two options: either we erase their memories, or we... eliminate them."


    She let that sink in.


    "But Raphael brought you to me," she continued. "Because I have the authority and the ability to wipe memories without harm. Which he hadn¡¯t. You¡¯re safe for now."


    La opened her mouth to speak... then closed it. She did that a few more times, trying to find the right words. Nothing came.


    Eleanor continued, her voice patient but firm.


    "There¡¯s another rule. Raphael cannot marry you unless you be one of us. If you try to marry him in secret and it¡¯s discovered, you will be killed. Worse... if you conceive a child with him while still human, the child will die in the womb, and you might not survive either. That is our biology. That restricts us from having intercourse with humans."


    She let the gravity of her words settle in the room.


    "There are manyws in our society, but one you must understand now: Werewolves marry only once in their lifetime. If a partner dies, the other remains alone. There is no divorce, no second marriage. So, before youmit, you must choose... to be one of us. And there will be no turning back."


    She looked at them both.


    "But decide quickly. If you choose to walk away, I¡¯ll need to erase the past hours from your memory before you leave this room."

 Chapter 161: A Marriage Proposal

    <h4>Chapter 161: A Marriage Proposal</h4>


    La fell silent for a long moment, her eyes moving back and forth between her boss and the enormous ck wolf in the room. In a single instant, her entire worldview had been shattered. The creatures she once believed only existed in fantasy novels had revealed themselves... and she had fallen in love with one.


    She could hardly believe it.


    The boss she deeply respected... whom she admired as an extraordinary human... was not even human at all. And now she realized that she had been surrounded by werewolves the entire time she had been living in the Kingdom. If someone had told her just a few hours ago that werewolves were real... and that she was about to marry one... she would haveughed.


    But now, staring directly at that reality, there was noughter. No joy. Only a gnawing dread settling deep in her stomach. A sharp, twisting tension that made her feel like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet.


    Suddenly, long-buried memories surged up from within: Her father¡¯s photograph hanging on the wall of their tiny home... Her mother cooking breakfast before work, getting ready to leave for the factory... The horrifying sight of her mother¡¯s lifeless body... A young boy¡¯s corpse, his organs missing... And so many others, just like him. So much grief. So much loss.


    A life stripped of warmth, reced by cold self-loathing and endless loneliness.


    Her entire life shed before her eyes, leaving her hollow inside. A shell. She had no one left in the world.


    And now... the only person who wanted her... the only person who had dared to love her... was looking at her with glowing eyes full of pity, not pride. A majestic creature seemingly trembling with fear of losing her.


    She turned her eyes to Eleanor, who sat with a calm, unreadable expression. As though none of this had anything to do with her.


    La stood abruptly and walked toward the wolf... well, toward Raphael. His eyes fluttered shut, as if bracing himself for rejection. But instead, she gently reached out and touched his head, like a woman stroking her beloved pet.


    Raphael flinched. He expected rejection... perhaps even hatred. But what he felt instead... was eptance.


    Her hand was warm. Steady. And filled with something he hadn¡¯t dared to hope for: love and affection.


    La looked at Eleanor and, with newfound steadiness in her voice, asked, "Boss, what do I need to do to marry Raphael?"


    Eleanor gave her a rare, approving smile. "Not much," she said calmly. "Raphael, if you¡¯re done enjoying yourself, turn back to human form and take a seat."


    Without hesitation, Raphael shifted back into his human form and took the chair in front of Eleanor, his face flushed with embarrassment. La sat beside him, blushing as well, unable to stop thinking about how she had just caressed him in his wolf form.


    Eleanor folded her arms on the desk and said, "I believe Raphael might have had a n for this conversation. So... what¡¯s next?"


    Raphael lowered his head. "Sorry, Ma¡¯am. I honestly thought I¡¯d be rejected, so I didn¡¯t n beyond this."


    La shot him a sharp re, clearly unimpressed.


    Eleanor sighed. "You two have two immediate responsibilities. First, Raphael must turn La. Second, you need to inform your n about the marriage. You¡¯ll need Grandpa Dominic¡¯s help with both. Do you want me to contact him?"


    Raphael nodded. "Yes, please."


    Without another word, Eleanor picked up her mobile and dialled.


    "Grandpa Dominic, how is your health?" she asked.


    A deep, amused voice responded on the other end. "I¡¯m fine. But you promised to visit and never came."


    "I know," she said with a chuckle. "I¡¯ve been buried in work. I¡¯ll visit soon."


    "Alright," he said, then added, "Now, tell me why you called."


    Eleanor didn¡¯t hesitate. "Grandpa, Raphael and my protocol officer La have decided to marry. They¡¯re sitting in front of me now. The girl is human, and she needs to be turned before the marriage. I¡¯m seeking your guidance."


    Before he could reply, she added, "Raphael didn¡¯t tell her about his race. I did, just a few minutes ago. So, whatever you decide, I¡¯ll follow."


    There was silence on the other end. Eleanor waited patiently.


    Finally, Dominic spoke with a sigh. "They¡¯ve already made their decision. All I can do is arrange. For now, keep the girl within your estate. Raphael should inform his parents and siblings himself. I¡¯ll begin the preparations for the ritual. Sebastian wille to collect the girl for the turning ceremony. It may take two or three days. Can you look after her until then?"


    "Of course," Eleanor replied. "I¡¯ll take care of it."


    "Good. I¡¯ll contact you soon." With that, the call ended.


    Eleanor looked at the pair. "Raphael, go inform your parents and siblings about the engagement. La, for the next three days, do not leave the viplex. Tell Teresa it¡¯s my order."


    Raphael asked, "What did the n Head say about La¡¯s turning?"


    "He agreed to the marriage," Eleanor replied. "He¡¯s preparing the ritual and will summon you when it¡¯s ready."


    She then turned to La. "In this vi, werewolves and humans live together. Most humans have no idea about the supernatural world. Don¡¯t speak of it to anyone. Teresa, Maya, and Lily... your housemates are human. Only Anastasiya is a vampire, and Cassandra is Raphael¡¯s rtive. Even so, it¡¯s better to stay quiet."


    La nodded. "Don¡¯t worry. I won¡¯t say a word."


    "Good. You may go," Eleanor said as she felt there was no need to keep them here.


    Raphael and La left the study together.


    Eleanor leaned back in her chair, her eyes lingering on the closed door.


    "That developed quickly," she thought to herself. "I never expected them toe this far, this fast."


    Her thoughts drifted inevitably to Ethan. To her ownplicated, scarred heart. She knew that she still hadn¡¯t fully recovered from the darkest Chapter of her past.


    Although she had buried every trace of that event, and aside from those closest to her, no one knew she was the one involved in the kidnapping and rape case, the trauma still clung to her like a shadow she couldn¡¯t shake.


    The Whitmores... and others tied to them... had to be silenced. Her mother¡¯spany needed to be reimed. They had lived long enough, reaping the rewards of stolen time. Given the chance, they might strike when her guard was down.


    She leaned back in her chair, gaze steady. With business affairs momentarily quiet, now was the perfect time to eliminate the Whitmores.


    Rising to her feet, she made her way to Freya¡¯s room, where father and daughter wereughing over a game. A rare smile yed on his lips. That fleeting expression lit her features in a way that made her beauty seem almost otherworldly.

 Chapter 162: The Last Job

    <h4>Chapter 162: The Last Job</h4>


    These days, the Whitmore family no longer carried the radiance of their past. No matter how hard they tried, their business had been shrinking steadily for years. With the downfall came difficult choices. They were forced to let go of their long-time, experienced staff, recing them with underpaid, inexperienced workers.


    Only a handful of employees now operated the vast estate... none of whom dared speak up or question anything.


    From the master bedroom upstairs came the unmistakable sounds of passionate sex. William Whitmore had always been loud in bed. He delighted in hearing his lovers scream beneath him... something that gave him a sick kind of satisfaction, one that no business triumph could rival.


    Ironically, the older he got, and the weaker his body became, the more he craved those cries.


    To satisfy this craving uninterrupted, he had instructed the house staff never to enter the first floor unless explicitly summoned. Everyone knew what was happening upstairs, but no one dared to intervene in their employer¡¯s "private affairs."


    These days, William was thoroughly infatuated with his secretary, Lydia Barker. She knew exactly how to please both his body and ego... something Jeanne, his wife, had never managed. Recently, Lydia had developed a new obsession... she wanted to make love in his own bed.


    William understood the symbolism. For Lydia, it was a show of possession, a desire to im him not just as a lover, but as hers. A woman always wants to cling to her man. And so, whenever he had the chance, he invited her to the estate.


    As his secretary, Lydia¡¯s visits raised no eyebrows. And she never asked for gifts, trips, or attention. She was content simply to be with him... in his bed. With his rapidly declining ie, William found her low-maintenance needs refreshingly economical.


    With a loud grunt, William copsed onto her body, then rolled to the side, leaving Lydia¡¯s voluptuous figure stretched across the bed. She sat up slowly, her breasts swaying slightly with the movement, her thin waist curving like it was carved by an artist.


    William stared at her in awe. Her face might not have matched Jeanne¡¯s in her prime, but the rest of her body... God, it was perfect! His desire red again, but his aging body couldn¡¯t keep up. All he could do was devour her with his eyes.


    "William," Lydia purred, "rx. I¡¯ll give you a massage."


    His heart fluttered. He turned over, letting her straddle his back. She waspletely naked. He could feel the warmth between her legs against his skin. Closing his eyes, he let himself melt beneath her touch. Before long, he was snoring loudly.


    Lydia carefully slipped off him, got dressed, and walked silently to the corner bookshelf. She opened a drawer, took out a small key, and shut it again. Then, grabbing her handbag, she left the room without a sound.


    She made her way to William¡¯s study. The door was closed, but not locked... he rarely locked it, a convenience for the house staff who cleaned the room. After all, anything important was always kept in the locked cab.


    Lydia entered confidently and headed straight for the cab. She used the key she¡¯d taken and opened it. Inside, she found the file she was looking for and ced it on the desk. From her bag, she pulled out a different set of papers and reced the contents of the file with them.


    Once done, she returned the file neatly, locked the cab, and left the study with the grace of someone who had done this before. She returned to William¡¯s room, returned the key to its ce, then entered the bathroom.


    From her bag, she retrieved an old button-style phone, powered it on, and dialled.


    "Hello. Is this Jeanne Baker?"


    "Yes. Who is this?"


    "Ma¡¯am, I¡¯m Milli from EverBuild Solutions. I have information that concerns you. Your husband is having an affair with his secretary. Believe it or not, they¡¯re having sex in your home... right now."


    "Why are you telling me this? What do you get out of spreading such a scandal?"


    "Ma¡¯am, this has been going on for some time. The entire office knows. I just don¡¯t like the secretary. If you fire her, that¡¯s enough of a reward for me."


    "Are you telling the truth?"


    "I¡¯m not asking for money, Ma¡¯am. I¡¯m just giving you the facts. What you do next is your decision."


    She ended the call, powered off the phone, and ced it back in her bag.


    She adjusted her hair and makeup in front of the mirror, straightened her clothes, and exited the bathroom. Then she neatly arranged her shoes, bag, and hat where she could grab them quickly.


    Afterward, she returned to the bed andy beside William, gently massaging his bare back from the side. Her fingers moved slowly, deliberately.


    Everything was in ce. All she had to do now... was wait.


    Her thoughts drifted back to her past.


    She had grown up poor. Her parents had died in a construction ident, leaving her alone to care for her baby brother... the only family she had left. With no means to survive, she was forced to work as a sex worker at a young age in a Southwark brothel.


    Thankfully, the owner was kind. He gave her a flexible schedule so she could care for her brother.


    But fate was cruel.


    Her brother was diagnosed with Spinal Muscr Atrophy, a rare and fatal gic disorder that gradually strips away a child¡¯s ability to move, swallow, and eventually breathe. The only treatment was a one-time gene therapy called Zolgensma, which could rece the faulty gene.


    But it came with an unimaginable cost of 2 million pounds. One of the most expensive medicines in the world.


    The doctors warned her that the treatment had to be administered immediately, before irreversible damage set in. She was willing to do anything... but no matter how hard she tried, her fundraising efforts felt like a drop in the ocean.


    One day, a journalist, one of her regr clients, offered to publish her story in the paper. She had all but lost hope...


    Until one day, she received a call from a man. He offered to pay for the entire treatment, under one condition: She would work for him for the rest of her life.


    Desperate, broken, and out of time, she agreed without hesitation.


    The man had never met her in person. All instructions came through a burner phone... no name, no face, just a deep, emotionless voice that always spoke with precision. Under his direction, she brought her brother to Manchester.


    He paid for everything: a private hospital, top-tier doctors, and even a small studio apartment where she could stay nearby. She expected to be used, perhaps as a mistress or a well-kept escort. But what came next was something she never imagined... amand so strange that she thought it was a joke.


    He hired private tutors.


    They came daily to her studio. Math, economics, business, English, etiquette... subjects she had never knew existed after dropping out at Level 8. Within six months, she hadpleted the equivalent of an MBA curriculum. It was brutal. She studied twelve hours a day. There were no days off.


    She assumed the man had a fetish for educated women, or perhaps he was grooming her for some upper-ss roley. She had the kind of body that turned heads, and she¡¯d long epted her desirability. But then he did something even stranger.


    He paid for stic surgery.


    Not major work... just subtle adjustments to her face. Her jawline, the angle of her nose, her eyelids. It was refined, not extreme. But it was enough to change her appearance. She became someone slightly... different.


    All the while, he never once asked to meet. Never asked to touch her. Never asked her to strip or seduce him. It puzzled her endlessly.


    The answers came when she received her first assignment.


    She was to apply for the position of Chairman¡¯s Secretary at EverBuild Solutions. When she walked into the interview room, she was shocked... every skill she had learned in the past six months, every lesson and conversation, had been preparing her specifically for this role.


    Naturally, she got the job. And her next order? Simple. Make William Whitmore fall for her.


    That part was child¡¯s y. William was an aging narcissist with a roving eye and a decaying marriage. The moment heid eyes on her, he was captivated. Sheter discovered the real reason: her new face bore a striking resemnce to Jeanne Whitmore in her younger years.


    It was all intentional. She was a walking ghost of his wife¡¯s youth... beautiful, submissive, eager. His perfect fantasy.


    With all the mysteries now unraveled, Lydiamitted herself fully to the job. She seduced him, earned his trust, and slowly, day by day, began uncovering the skeletons in his closet. Every secret she unearthed, she passed on to the man on the other end of the phone.


    Her mission was clear: sabotage thepany from within.


    Meanwhile, her brother¡¯s gene therapy was sessful. The boy waster transferred to a post-operative care home in the U.S., one of the best in the country. She frequently spoke to his caregivers. The mysterious man kept his word... every expense paid, every treatment on time.


    Then came the final task.


    One afternoon, while searching William¡¯s private cab, she found the share transfer certificate... a document that could shift control of thepany. Her instructions were precise: make a forged copy with a falsified signature, and deliver the original to the man.


    This would be herst job. Once done, she would receive one million dors, and a first-ss ticket to the United States. She would never have to work again. She could finally join her brother.


    Until now, that strange man had never broken a promise. Even though she had never seen his face, never heard his real name, she trusted him more than she had ever trusted anyone in her life.


    Now, with the document secured in her bag, all that remained was to stage her exit... make it look like she was caught red-handed and forced to flee.


    While lost in thought, a loud, enraged voice pierced the silence: "What are you doing in my bed... You slut!"


    Jeanne Baker! Her timing couldn¡¯t have been more perfect.


    William jolted awake, confused and disoriented. Lydia, however, recovered in an instant. She didn¡¯t hesitate. She grabbed her shoes, bag, and hat... meticulously ced earlier for a quick getaway... and rushed out of the room without a word.


    She didn¡¯t spare Jeanne so much as a nce.


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 Chapter 163: The Return of Aunt Bella

    <h4>Chapter 163: The Return of Aunt Be</h4>


    Mrs. Eliza Grant, the current Mayor of Stockport Council, had been busier than ever. Ever since the shocking events now known as the Stockport Scandal, which utterly destroyed the once-mighty Brown family, her prominence in the region had grown day by day.


    With MP Oliver Brown having fled after the scandal and still missing, an arrest warrant was issued and his name was added to Interpol¡¯s wanted list. Everyone in Stockport now believed that Eliza Grant would soon be the next Member of Parliament for the area.


    The Brown family had dominated both business and politics in the region for years. Numerous development projects were ongoing under their name, but following their bankruptcy, every one of those projects came to an abrupt halt. The public saw no hope ofpletion... until Mayor Grant stepped in.


    She brought the powerful Miller Group from Manchester and sessfully negotiated their involvement to take over andplete the stalled projects.


    From a business perspective, the Miller Group faced some initial losses, but the decision significantly boosted their reputation in Stockport and skyrocketed Mayor Grant¡¯s poprity. Although the councilcked adequate funds forrge-scale development, she forged coborations with other agencies, leveraging influence and goodwill to get the work done.


    Just as she finished an interview with several media outlets, her phone vibrated. ncing down and seeing the caller ID read Eleanor, she immediately silenced the phone.


    Then, standing up with grace, she addressed the reporters, "Thank you for your support. If you have more questions, feel free to post them on my page. I¡¯ll respond personally. Now, please excuse me. I need to attend to some official matters."


    With that, she swiftly exited the conference room and walked straight to her private office. Closing the door behind her, she picked up the call.


    Eleanor¡¯s crisp voice came through immediately. "Mayor Grant, please go to London today and meet the Party Chairman. Tomorrow¡¯s meeting will fill the party¡¯s vacant positions. You need to be there."


    Eliza sighed softly. "I told you to call me aunt, but you never listen," she said with a wry smile.


    Then, regaining herposure, she added, "Alright. I¡¯ll catch the afternoon flight."


    Eleanor continued, "You should start focusing on the national stage. In your constituency, your poprity is more than enough. Your nomination is secured. If you want an important role, it¡¯s time to startworking with the Lords. Also, Baron Chapman needs reliable people by his side."


    "I know. Don¡¯t worry," Eliza replied confidently. "I¡¯ll handle it."


    "Good. I¡¯ve got other matters to attend to. If there¡¯s nothing else, take care," Eleanor said, her tone sharp but not unfriendly.


    "I¡¯ll call if I need anything," Eliza promised.


    "Okay." The call ended.


    Eliza ced the phone gently on the desk and sank into her chair. A wave of quiet reflection washed over her.


    How had shee this far?


    She was content being Mayor. Bing an MP had always been her dream to step into herte father¡¯s footsteps, and she had been chasing it more for him than herself. But now, that distant dream was within reach.


    Ever since she met Eleanor, her entire worldview had shifted. The young woman... just in her twenties... held more power and influence than seasoned politicians.


    Eliza chuckled to herself, the corner of her lips curling into a smile. "Esmeralda... what a monster you created! You fled from politics, but now your daughter bends it to her will."


    She leaned back in her chair, the smile still lingering, knowing she was about to step into a game farrger than she had ever imagined.


    ***


    When Eleanor arrived at Hope Specialized Hospital, she went straight to Isabe¡¯s cabin. Isabe¡¯s treatment was essentiallyplete. The uing follow-up sessions were routine and could be handled by anypetent doctor familiar with breast cancer. Today, she would be discharged, and Eleanor hade to take her to her vi.


    Pushing the door open, Eleanor stepped inside. Behind her, her protocol officer, La, followed silently. But the moment Eleanor entered the room, her eyesnded on a middle-aged man in a ck suit, seated on a chair. He bore a slight resemnce to Aunt Be.


    "Oh, Eleanor! You¡¯re here," Isabe smiled warmly. "Let me introduce you. This is my son, Isaac. And Isaac, this is Eleanor, the one I¡¯ve been telling you about."


    Isaac stood up and gave a polite bow. "I don¡¯t know how I can ever express my gratitude, Lady Langford. If it weren¡¯t for you, my mother would probably still be waiting in the NHS queue. If there¡¯s ever anything I can do for you, please don¡¯t hesitate to ask."


    Eleanor waved her hand dismissively. "I didn¡¯t do it for thanks... or for you. My mother entrusted Aunt Be with raising me after her death. Now that I¡¯m grown, it¡¯s my turn to take care of her."


    Isaac nodded, undeterred. "Regardless of your reason, you¡¯re now a benefactor of our family. I¡¯ll always treat you as such."


    Eleanor didn¡¯t argue. Instead, she turned to La. "Pack everything Aunt Be needs to take home. And give me the new dress I bought."


    With a soft, "Oh!" La handed the bag to Eleanor, then began moving around the room to pack Isabe¡¯s belongings.


    Eleanor walked over to Isabe and handed her the bag. "Aunt Be, please change into this dress. Freya is waiting for you at home. The clothes you¡¯ve been wearing here might be contaminated. Let La take care of packing. We¡¯ll wash everything once we¡¯re back."


    Isabe hesitated. "But Isaac came to bring me to his home. I¡¯m feeling fine. I can travel to London now."


    Eleanor replied calmly, "If you want to spend a few days with your family, I have no objection. But first,e home with me today. Freya¡¯s been very eager to see you. Tomorrow, you can leave for London."


    She turned to Isaac. "How were you nning to take her back?"


    "I drove here," Isaac said. "I was going to take her home in my car."


    "Then it¡¯s settled. You¡¯ll both stay at my ce tonight. After breakfast tomorrow, you can drive her back to London."


    Her tone left no room for argument. Isaac nodded, still feeling slightly overwhelmed. "As you wish, Lady Langford. My mother can certainly stay for a day. I¡¯ve already taken the day off tomorrow. I¡¯ll just book a nearby hotel for the night."


    Isaac had heard from his mother that Eleanor was the daughter of Lady Esmeralda Langford, but he didn¡¯t know her current family name. Out of respect, he used her mother¡¯s title when addressing her... just as one would address the descendant of an Earl. Eleanor didn¡¯t correct him. Nor did she feel the need to.


    "You won¡¯t need a hotel," she said tly. "There¡¯s plenty of space in my home."


    At that moment, La finished packing. "Everything¡¯s ready," she informed Eleanor.


    Eleanor nodded. "Aunt Be, let¡¯s go."


    "Wait, don¡¯t we need to inform the doctors? They haven¡¯t given me a discharge certificate yet," Isabe asked.


    "There¡¯s no need to worry," Eleanor replied. "They¡¯ll send all the paperwork and necessary medications to meter."


    "Alright then." Isabe smiled and followed her out of the room.


    La had already informed the driver, so the convoy was waiting at the hospital entrance.


    Standing beside her Range Rover, Eleanor turned to Isaac. "Where¡¯s your car?"


    He pointed to a sedan parked nearby.


    Eleanor nodded. "Good. Follow my car. La, inform security of his number te. He¡¯ll be at the end of the convoy."


    She then helped Isabe into her car before getting in herself. La took the passenger seat.


    Isaac hurried to his own car and pulled out of the parking lot. As soon as he did, Eleanor¡¯s car rolled forward. Two identical Range Rovers moved in front of him, and Isaac quickly realized they were all part of her convoy.


    As the vehicles left the hospital grounds, several of the same cars joined the formation. At one intersection, when they all turned right, Isaac counted at least nine simr vehicles ahead of him. He had no idea which one carried his mother and Eleanor.


    Cursing the excesses of the wealthy, he resigned himself to following the convoy from behind.


    Thankfully, the speed limits within the city kept the cars close together. Eventually, they entered a private gate that shut immediately behind him. The convoy slowed, and finally came to a stop inside an enormous estate.


    Isaac got out of his car, unsure what to do.


    La approached him swiftly. "Hello, Mr. Isaac. Your mother is already inside the boss¡¯s vi. A ce has been arranged for you to stay the night. Please don¡¯t wander around alone. If you need anything, call the house staff or one of the guards. Also, do not order delivery from outside. If you need to leave the premises, inform us beforehand."


    She nced behind him. "Maxwell, this is a guest of the boss. Please take him to the guest vi."


    "Guest vi?" Isaac muttered, astonished. He didn¡¯t even have a proper guest room in his own home.


    But his thoughts were cut short when a deep voice spoke beside him. "Sir, please follow me."


    Isaac turned... and nearly copsed in fright.


    Behind him stood a tall, ck-d man carrying arge Machine Gun type weapon on his back, with a pistol strapped to his side. He looked like a soldier ready for battle.


    Isaac instinctively looked toward the gate... and saw two more armed guards stationed there. He nced around and noticed several soldiers with simr weapons patrolling the area. His heart pounded in his chest. It felt as if he weren¡¯t in Manchester anymore, but in Aleppo, Sanaa, or Baghdad. Suddenly, being wealthy lost all its charm.


    Wordlessly, he followed Maxwell, who led him to a nearby vi. Inside, a graceful, well-dressed woman greeted them. Maxwell exined Isaac¡¯s identity and left. The woman showed him to a room more luxurious than anything he¡¯d ever imagined.


    Once she left and the door clicked shut behind her, Isaac copsed on the plush bed, still trying to process everything.

 Chapter 164: Nora

    <h4>Chapter 164: Nora</h4>


    Lying on the most luxurious bed of his life, Isaac couldn¡¯t help but reflect on how he had ended up here. It was clear that Eleanor held his mother in high regard. Over the years, he had met several of his mother¡¯s former students from childminders and families she had worked for as a nanny... but none had shown her the level of respect Eleanor did.


    His mind drifted to events nearly thirty years ago. Back then, he was a college student, and his father had just passed away. The cost of his father¡¯s treatment had nearly drained all their savings. All they had left was the house... no funds to support his education, no ie to rely on.


    His mother had left her job as a childminder to care for her bedridden husband. After his death, she found there were no job openings left. With no source of ie and two mouths to feed, she began cleaning houses and washing cars in the neighbourhood, desperately searching for a proper job.


    Then, a neighbour mentioned that Lady Langford was looking for a full-time nanny. Though she lived in Manchester, she was hiring someone from Birmingham. The Langford family had a good reputation there. They were not arrogant like other nobles, and were known for helping the poor.


    His mother decided to contact Lady Langford. But what she received was the most unusual job offer in history... she was to serve as a nanny in Manchester for thirty years, and all her wages would be paid in advance, even before the child was born.


    Isaac vividly remembered the night his mother pondered the proposal. Ultimately, the advance payment meant he could attend a boarding school for better education while she worked in Manchester. With the house empty, they could also rent it out for additional ie.


    The next day, when his mother epted the job, Lady Langford sent a man to their house... with a full thirty years of sry in hand. The man also informed her of the expected birth date of the child. From that moment, her employment will start.


    His mother joined her post exactly on the scheduled date of childbirth. But the child had been born prematurely, and Lady Langford had already passed away. That was when his mother understood... the Lady had foreseen her own death and arranged for someone trustworthy to raise her daughter.


    Though her heart was heavy, she fulfilled her duty.


    But a few yearster, she returned to Birmingham. The child¡¯s father and stepmother no longer wanted her around... and the child herself had rejected her. Even then, she never looked for another job. Having already been paid, she felt employed still, waiting in quiet hope for the day she might be needed again.


    That day eventually came... but under very different circumstances.


    Eleanor herself came to Birmingham, stood at their door, and brought his mother to Manchester for treatment.


    Just days ago, when his mother called to say she was in Manchester, and that Eleanor had insisted on bringing her... Isaac hadn¡¯t believed her. He thought she was saying it just to ease his anxiety. After all, they had been arguing for days about selling the house to fund her treatment, which his mother refused.


    But when he rushed to Manchester, he found his mother already admitted into one of the best hospitals, and settled in a luxurious private cabin. That was when he felt the real influence of the Langford family.


    And today, having seen it with his own eyes, he truly understood what it meant to be born into nobility.


    A flicker of envy stirred within him.


    But when he thought of the bodyguards, the fortifiedpound, and the constant need for surveince, a cold realization struck him. The wealthy lived in golden cages. Constantly watched. Always wary. He knew he could never live like that... he¡¯d die of anxiety.


    Still, deep in his heart, he felt grateful to this Lady. Because of her, his mother received the best care. Perhaps she¡¯d live longer now.


    A dry smile tugged at his lips.


    His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. "Who is it?" he called.


    A woman¡¯s voice responded, "Sir, we¡¯ve prepared some afternoon snacks. Pleasee downstairs whenever you¡¯re ready."


    "Okay, thank you. I¡¯ll be there shortly," he replied.


    He heard the soft sound of footsteps fading.


    ncing down, he noticed he was still in his suit. He quickly changed intofortable loungewear, freshened up in the bathroom, and headed downstairs.


    The maid he had seen earlier was waiting for him. She led him to the dining room where a light spread of snacks and tea had been arranged. After he finished eating, he asked, "May I walk around the property for a bit?"


    The maid replied, "Please wait a moment. I¡¯ll inform the guards."


    She stepped out of the room.


    Just as Isaac finished his tea, a guard entered. "You may walk around, sir... but only with me around."


    Isaac nodded and followed the guard outside.


    He strolled through the area, admiring the space. It seemed like a cluster of five independent vis, though they were clearly part of one secured estate. The entire area was surrounded by high boundary walls. From the guard, Isaac learned that the other vis were upied by staff and their families.


    His freedom was limited to the guest vi area and a shared courtyard. He respected the rules and soon returned.


    Behind his vi, he spotted a serene swimming pool. Though tempted, he decided not to swim... he hadn¡¯t brought any appropriate clothes. Instead, he sat in the open, beside the pool, and let his thoughts drift again.


    After dinner, Isaacy on the softest, most luxurious bed he¡¯d ever known... and slept like a baby. Eventually, he overslept.


    The next morning, after breakfast, he asked the maid to inform his mother that he wished to begin their return journey to London. This time, a new maid answered. She smiled politely and asked him to remain in his room... she would inform him when it was time.


    In the other vi, Isabe had finally made her decision. She agreed to return from London after a month, having been persuaded by Eleanor to stay. She understood that, in her current state, she had little strength left to assist Eleanor directly. But when she learned that Eleanor would have to travel frequently in theing weeks, leaving Freya home alone, Isabe agreed to stay behind and care for the child.


    Besides, the task wasn¡¯t demanding. All she had to do was keep Freyapany. The staff would handle the cooking and cleaning, the drivers would take care of transport, and Ethan would also be around to support Freya. In her heart, Isabe felt a quietfort knowing she could at least be there for someone again.


    What she didn¡¯t know, however, was that Eleanor had much deeper ns for her... just as her mother had once entrusted Isabe with Eleanor¡¯s care, Eleanor now intended to leave Freya in Isabe¡¯s hands if anything were to happen to her.


    Eleanor had first-hand experience of Isabe¡¯s loyalty, gentleness, and diligence. She knew that once Isabe began taking care of Freya, she wouldn¡¯t stop unless Freya herself refused her care.


    Isabe was more than a caretaker... she was one of the critical pieces Eleanor was putting into ce to ensure Freya¡¯s future was protected. If every piece was ready before the Trial of Yggdrasil began, Eleanor would feel more at ease... no matter the oue.


    That morning, Freya had already left for school with Ethan. After seeing off Isabe and Isaac, Eleanor headed straight to Heimdall. She entered her privateb straightaway without hesitation.


    Over the past few days, Eleanor had delegated most business responsibilities to Teresa. Her focus now was entirely on theb... on the work she had once tinkered with slowly, believing time was on her side.


    But time had shifted.


    The Trial wasing.


    And so, her work elerated. In argeboratory filled with the hum of machines, blinking lights, and the rhythmic beeping of sensors, Eleanor made her final adjustments. Then, with calm deliberation, she removed a small sh drive and inserted it into the mainframe.


    A stream of binary rows of 1s and 0s raced across the screen. Eleanor stared, her expression unreadable, but her clenched fists betrayed the tension within. She waited.


    Then, she heard a burst of static noise. The sound crackled like a broken speaker struggling to work. Eleanor didn¡¯t move. The air felt heavy, like the entire room was holding its breath.


    And then, the sound cleared. A female voice, which was sweet, melodic, and almost simr to Eleanor¡¯s own... began to speak. One after another, a flood ofnguages filled the room. Mandarin Chinese, English, Spanish, Hindi, Arabic, Bengali, Russian, Portuguese, French, Indonesian, Japanese, German, Korean, and many more... each spoken with perfect rity.


    When it stopped, silence covered the room.


    Then, the voice returned, this time in proper English:


    System boot sequence initiated.


    Core protocols engaging...


    Neuralttice aligning...


    Voice synthesis calibration...


    Emotive response engine... Active


    Cognitive loop integration... Stable


    Status... Online


    Conscious interface engaged.


    Initializing perception matrix...


    Loading humanmunication schema...


    Language nuance acquired. Empathy subroutines... synced.


    Systemunchplete.


    All modules responsive. Latency nominal.


    "Hello, Creator.


    I am here now.


    And I am listening.


    What is my name?"


    A smile slowly formed on Eleanor¡¯s lips.


    She leaned closer to the interface and said gently, like greeting a newborn child into the world:


    "Nora. Wee to the world."

 Chapter 165: The Future of the Werewolves-1

    <h4>Chapter 165: The Future of the Werewolves-1</h4>


    The entire werewolf race had already begun preparations for the uingpetition. Following their King¡¯s decree, they recognised it as a golden opportunity for the younger generation. Regardless of size or status, every n aimed to seize this chance to elevate the strength of their future generation. After all, though werewolves lived long lives, it was the youth who brought prosperity, strength, and prestige to their ns.


    It wasn¡¯t that the elders stopped contributing as they aged... it was moreplicated than that. Living among mortals came with its constraints. Werewolves couldn¡¯t maintain the same identity for too long in human society. Sooner orter, they had to change their appearance or relocate entirely, starting over from scratch.


    Relocating an entire n was no small task. It was a process filled with risk and logistical nightmares. That¡¯s why werewolves had adopted the tradition of passing on the legacy to the younger generation. Even ns that ran businesses had to ensure that their human employees believed a legitimate transition of ownership was taking ce. Continuity, even if only in appearance, was essential.


    In the Raynor n, the responsibility of organizing thepetition fell upon Xavier Raynor, following a formal n meeting. Once the schedule was finalized and announced, over fifty young werewolves registered topete.


    Xavier felt the headache arrive almost instantly.


    Managing that many participants would be a monumental task. The biggest hurdle was to set a Venue. The Raynor n didn¡¯t own a private arena or stadium suitable for such arge-scalepetition. And this wasn¡¯t a game... when two werewolves fought, they would inevitably use their wolf abilities. Hosting the event in a public ce would lead to a potential supernatural disaster.


    Two days passed. Xavier brainstormed, calcted, and stressed, but came up with many things, but nothing substantial. Finally, frustrated and out of options, he decided to call Fiona.


    After hearing him out, Fiona exhaled slowly.


    "Your real problem," she began, her voice calm, "is just the final match. The preliminary rounds... you can arrange those at our ancestralnd. But the final... that¡¯s going to be tricky."


    "We¡¯ll need to invite the other n heads to witness it. I¡¯ve already received an invitation from the Fenroth n, and I¡¯m sure others will follow. We can¡¯t ignore them. We need to prepare a proper venue... even if it¡¯s just for one day."


    She paused for a moment, then added, "Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll hold the final at the Raynor Estate. I¡¯ll bring in an array master to secure the area. They¡¯ll set up a protective array around the arena to contain everything. You just need to build a temporary arena... something practical, but elegant. Ask Ethan to design it without ruining the estate¡¯s natural beauty. Thest thing we want is for other ns to show up and start criticizing us."


    Xavier let out a visible sigh of relief. "Understood. I¡¯ll contact Ethan right away."


    Before ending the call, he added, "Thank you."


    On the other end, Fiona smiled. "This boy... he can run the entire police force of Manchester but can¡¯t organize a simple werewolf tournament." The thought made her chuckle softly.


    With a quiet sigh and a long stretch, Fiona swung her legs over the edge of the bed and padded barefoot across the polished wooden floor toward the tall window. She parted the curtains as if unveiling a dream.


    A sudden cascade of golden sunlight poured into the room, spilling over pale linens, painting the walls in soft hues of rose and amber. It was one of those rare, soul-stirring awakenings where the world feels alive with promise. Fiona blinked against the brightness, her eyes adjusting slowly.


    Beyond the window, Hallstatt¡¯s peaks still wore their snowy crowns. The Dachstein Mountains glittered under the morning sun like cut crystal. And yet, change stirred beneath the snow.


    She slid open the window, and a sharp, invigorating wind swept across her face. Not biting cold but clean and gentle,ced with the earthy scent of thawing soil, pine, and distant warmth of light. The gust lifted her hair slightly and sent a delightful shiver down her spine. She inhaled deeply, as if drawing strength from the breath of the earth.


    Outside, the vigey in serene grace. Sloped rooftops bore their final shawls of snow as thest remnants of a long Alpine winter. Droplets fell steadily from leaves and branches, pattering onto cobblestone paths and ivy-d ledges. Beneath the melting crust, small patches of green peeked through. Fiona watched as snow slipped from the arms of fir trees, revealing jade-like needles catching the sun.


    Just beyond the garden, a narrow stairway climbed a hill, nked by terraced flower beds that clung stubbornly to the stone. There, in quiet defiance of winter, the first bursts of colour had arrived. Pale crocuses, violet irises, shy prims, and golden alpine asters swayed delicately in the cold breeze.


    It was as if the earth had exhaled, sending out these fragile messengers to announce the uing spring.


    Theke belowy still and vast, mirroring the sky so wlessly it seemed to stretch into forever. A thin veil of mist hovered across its ghostlike surface, and reluctant to let go. Boats bobbed gently in their moorings. And behind them, the ancient facades of timber-framed homes stood proud, bathed in light... timeless, enduring, beautiful.


    Fiona leaned forward, resting her elbows on the cold window ledge. A sense of quiet awe bloomed in her chest. This ce felt carved by gods or spirits... a world untouched by rush, by noise, by burden. Here, time feels slower and kinder, which soothes one¡¯s soul.


    "I could fall in love over and over with this kind of silence," she whispered to no one in particr.


    Soon, the snow would vanish... but this moment, this whisper between seasons, felt sacred. As though Hallstatt had embraced her gently and whispered: This is beauty, if you know how to see.


    A pang of sadness stirred in her.


    For the past week, she¡¯d let herself breathe here in this alpine cradle. But the npetition loomed ahead. It was time to return to Manchester and oversee preparations. The estate had to be wless. The other ns woulde. Perhaps even the King.


    They couldn¡¯t afford to appear unprepared... not when so much was at stake.


    ***


    The world was silent, save for the wind that screamed like a beast with no face. Deep in the heart of the Himyas, where the sun rarely touched the ground and the horizon was made of endless white, a lone figure moved through the snow... like a ghost in the wilderness, a fire amidst ice.


    He stood like a spear in the center of a wind-scoured valley, his bare chest rising and falling beneath a curtain of bruised sky. His skin, pale as mountain stone, glistened with sweat despite the biting cold. Each breath he drew came out as steam, torn away by the storm before it could fully form. Around him, the air swirled with a chaos of shattered ice and flurrying snow, as if the mountains themselves were trying to cut him down.


    His spear danced in his hands with the elegance of a poem. Also, with brutal, relentless precision. Every thrust drove the tip forward like lightning split into steel, the force of it tearing through the frozen air with a sharp boom. With each strike, a pulse of wind erupted from the tip, a condensed roar of power that surged ahead and mmed into the mountainside beyond. There, the snow exploded upward in pirs of white, scattered into the sky like offerings to the storm.


    Ice shards sliced across his body, drawing thin trails of redness that froze instantly against his skin. The wind snarled against him like a living thing, wild and merciless. But he did not waver a bit. Muscles rippled across his torso with each movement... shoulders twisting, spine bending, arms snapping forward again and again, faster with each repetition. The rhythm of his spear was like a war drum pounding against the silence of the gods.


    The valley was his only witness. The sky above was bruised purple, the sun a faint blur behind shifting clouds. Peaks ringed the basin like sleeping giants, their icy heads lost in mist, ancient and unmoved. And in the middle of it all, amidst wind and snow and silence, he kept moving... panting, sweating, and striking.


    He was refining something far more dangerous than technique... a will unbroken by frost, a body hardened by solitude, and a spirit untouched byfort.


    "Rohan, the n has sent word. Thepetition will be held next week. If you want to enter, we must leave now." A voice broke through the howling wind, worn with age but firm as stone.


    The young man didn¡¯t pause, but his eyes flickered slightly as hepleted his strike.


    From the mouth of a narrow cave carved into the cliffside, an old man emerged... barefoot, draped only in a simple white dhoti that clung to his frame in the biting wind. Though his face bore the deep furrows of time, his body still held the weight and strength of years forged in discipline. His chest was broad, his shoulders square, and his weathered muscles remained hard as the mountains themselves. A long white beard clung to his chin, rippling in the wind like frost-streaked silk, and his hair, thick and silver, flowed past his shoulders,shing about like banners in a storm.


    The young man halted his movements and turned toward the cave. Without a word, he set the spear down beside him, its tip sinking into the snow. Then he bowed deeply, the gesture full of respect and calm purpose.


    "As you wish, Gurudev," said the young man.


    He was Rohan Harivamsa, a rising star of the Harivamsa n.

 Chapter 166: The Future of the Werewolves-2

    <h4>Chapter 166: The Future of the Werewolves-2</h4>


    Deep in the cradle of the Kii Mountains, morning light filtered throughyers of cedar boughs... soft and golden, like memory given form. The ground was damp with dew, rich with the scent of moss and pine. Birds called high in the canopy, their cries echoing faintly beneath the thunderous voice of Nachi Falls, which plummeted down a cliff face in the distance... its mist rolling like spirits across the valley floor.


    A girl stood alone on a stone outcrop, still as carved jade, facing the falls. She was young, barely more than seventeen, yet her presencemanded the space as if she had trained for lifetimes. Jet-ck hair, long and silken, was tied into a loose braid that danced behind her with every gust of wind. Her dark and luminous eyes held a depth that belied her youth: half shadow, half fire. A pale flush graced her cheeks, kissed by the cold mountain air.


    The katana in her hands danced like an extension of her spirit. She wore a dark indigo keikogi, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and a hakama that whispered with every step. Beneath the fabric, muscle and grace coiled together like a wild creature tamed by discipline.


    Her bare feet shifted on the stone like falling petals. Her sword shed, a diagonal cut through the air... followed by a seamless pivot, the de arcing behind her like a silver crescent moon. She spun with perfect control, her body sinking into a low stance before rising into an upward sh that sliced through the mist as though it feared her.


    A second breath, a second flurry.


    She leapt in a blur of motion, her katana lifted overhead, then mmed downward into an invisible opponent. The de shimmered with mountain dew as it carved the air with a shrill hum. Shended light as snow, knees bent, one hand extended behind her for bnce. Her breaths were deep and rhythmic... a prayer learned in blood and repetition.


    Above her, the sunlight caught the droplets clinging to her de, scattering tiny rainbows through the clearing. She stood tall, chest rising and falling, hair clinging to her neck, face serene.


    From the shadows beyond the trees, an elderly figure stepped forth.


    He was tall. His white keikogi fluttered in the wind, his hair bound high and silver with age. His face bore the solemn calm of a thousand winter dawns, yet there was warmth in his voice.


    "You¡¯ve mastered the rhythm," the old master said slowly, his sandals brushing through the fallen pine needles. "Now... you must learn to y the silence between each strike."


    The girl bowed deeply, sweat glistening on her brow. For a moment, even the howling of Nachi Falls seemed to quiet. In that sacred space between mentor and student, praise was rare... but when spoken, it carried the weight of entire lifetimes.


    She was Izumi Tsuki Kuroda, Young Miss of the Kuroda n of Japan.


    ***


    Deep within the emerald heart of the Amazon, where sunlight filtered down in trembling beams through a canopy older than time, the forest whispered its secrets. Vines hung like serpents from towering trees, their roots snaking across moss-covered ground. Birds called to one another in bursts of colour and sound, while orchids bloomed unseen in the shadows. The air was thick with life... damp, breathing, ancient.


    Beneath this living cathedral, a girl moved like a shadow.


    Her bare feet glided silently over roots and fallen leaves, never snapping a twig or disturbing the rhythm of the forest. She wore almost nothing... just a wrap of woven fabric hugging her hips, and bands of feathers and bones adorning her arms and ankles. Her bronze skin shimmered with sweat and moonlight, sleek as a panther¡¯s coat. Her body, lithe and honed like a weapon, moved with effortless poise, hips swaying with each silent step. Every curve was sculpted in bnce... sensual yet strong, soft yet feral, like the jungle itself.


    Her face was a song of contrasts: sharp cheekbones kissed by the sun, full lips slightly parted, and eyes the colour of wet earth after rain... dark, reflective, and full of vigour. She is Ma¨ªra Arara Neblina, the wildflower of the Amazon Werewolf n. To the animals, she was kin. To the forest, she was the daughter.


    She halted as her golden eyes shed toward a movement in the underbrush. Not twenty paces away, a cheetah lifted its head. Its ears twitched. A breath passed between them.


    Then it bolted.


    And Ma¨ªra followed.


    The jungle erupted into motion. The cheetah darted like lightning through the undergrowth, kicking up leaves and shattering the stillness. But Ma¨ªra... barefoot,ughing softly under her breath... gave chase, her body slicing through the trees with liquid instinct. She ducked under vines, leapt over roots, and twisted mid-air with the precision of a predator born to the hunt. Her breath remained steady. Her muscles thrummed. Her heart beat in time with the earth.


    The cheetah ran as no creature should be able to... but Ma¨ªra¡¯s pursuit was relentless. Branches wed at her skin, drawing thin lines of red, but she didn¡¯t slow. She wasn¡¯t chasing to kill. She was chasing to conquer.


    Minutes turned to half an hour, until sweat rolled down her back and her braid clung to her spine. Still, she closed the distance.


    Atst, with a burst of impossible speed, she lunged.


    The cheetah snarled and twisted mid-run... but she was already on it, wrapping her limbs around its body and tumbling to the forest floor in a blur of fur and flesh. Leaves scattered. A bird shrieked overhead.


    The surroundings fell into a serene silence.


    Ma¨ªra sat up, panting, her thighs mped around the beast¡¯s nks, her hands gently stroking its trembling sides. The cheetah hissed weakly, but did not resist. Slowly, cautiously, it lowered its head into herp like a stubborn child surrendering to a mother¡¯s luby. She ran her fingers through its short golden coat, and the cheetah whimpered once... then gave in.


    Its eyes fluttered, half-closed.


    "Easy now," she whispered, in the tongue of the forest.


    There they sat beside the river... girl and beast, one wild heart beating against another. Around them, the jungle watched in reverent hush, as if it, too, understood that this was not a moment of dominance, but of union.


    ***


    High in the mist-veiled mountains, where clouds drifted like ancient spirits through the ridges, the rain fell... not in torrents, but in a steady, silver curtain. Each droplet struck the stone and soil like the ticking of a timeless clock. And within this quiet storm, a sword was dancing.


    Joshua Cordillera, the rising star of the proud Cordillera n, stood bare-chested beneath the open sky. Rain streaked down his muscled frame, carving rivulets along his skin, soaking into the loose ck cloth tied around his waist. His dark hair clung to his forehead, and his sharp as obsidian eyes remained fixed on a point only he could see.


    His de moved, and the world seemed to breathe with him.


    With a fluid motion, he spun into a rising arc, the edge of his sword slicing upward through the falling rain like aet of steel. Water beaded and scattered from the de in delicate spirals, catching the muted light of the storm. Each strike was precise, but effortless. His grounded and silent footwork mirrored the rhythm of the earth itself.


    Lightning shed behind the mountains, illuminating the peaks like the edges of a sleeping dragon¡¯s wings. The wind, heavy with the scent of pine and wet stone, swirled around him, but Joshua did not falter. He was stillness in motion, serenity in power.


    A downward sh cleaved the air in silence, followed by a swift reverse grip and pivot... the de now an extension of his will. Rainwater flung from the sword mid-strike painted silver arcs in the air, only to be swallowed instantly by the storm. Every movement flowed into the next without hesitation, like a mountain stream rushing toward the valley... graceful, confident, untamed.


    The forest watched in reverence. The trees bowed under the weight of rain, their leaves whispering with each gust. The stones beneath his feet, polished smooth by years of weather, bore his weight as if they had long awaited his return.


    In that moment, Joshua wasn¡¯t just training... he wasmuning. His sword sang with the rain. His breath rose with the mist. And with each swing, he carved his soul into the mountain¡¯s memory.


    Across every werewolf n scattered through the corners of the world, from frozen peaks to shadowed forests... a single phenomenon pulsed like a shared heartbeat. Young warriors, heirs of blood and legacy, trained with unyielding fervour beneath open skies and ancient ins. Their breaths fogged the morning air, muscles burning with effort, eyes fixed on the path ahead.


    Each n had mobilized their youngsters, not as isted cases, but as proud guardians of their heritage. Elders stepped down from secluded meditations to offer guidance. Sacred grounds were reopened. Forbidden techniques were passed on in whispers and sweat. Ancient weapons, long sealed in the vault, were retrieved and given to the worthy.


    Every young wolf pushed beyond their limits, hearts burning with the dream to rise... not just in strength, but in essence. To be Ascendant was not merely to gain power. It was to be something more than flesh and fang... a living vessel of the world¡¯s will.

 Chapter 167: Cracks in the Foundation

    <h4>Chapter 167: Cracks in the Foundation</h4>


    Things had been deteriorating steadily for the Whitmore family. They weren¡¯t sure whom they had offended, but it felt as if an invisible hand had been working against them for years. Theirpany, EverBuild Solutions Limited, had once been the leading supplier of construction materials in Manchester... back when its formidable founder, Esmeralda Langford, was still alive.


    After her untimely death, thepany¡¯s meteoric rise began to wane slightly. Even so, they managed to retain their hold on valuable government contracts, a testament to the legacy Esmeralda left behind.


    When William Whitmore stepped in as acting chairman, he worked relentlessly to maintain thepany¡¯s stature. Although newer firms emerged and overtook them in some areas, EverBuild still remained one of thergest yers in the region. Many contractors felt at ease granting them projects, relying on the prestige of their name.


    The true downfall began nearly five years ago. Since then, both turnover and profits have been steadily shrinking. William suspected sabotage from within. It coincided too precisely with the disappearance of Eleanor Whitmore.


    That incident fractured the board. Some members loyal to Eleanor¡¯s mother med William outright, attempting to unseat him from his chairmanship. Eleanor¡¯s vanishing remained a mystery to the Whitmores. Early spection pointed toward Elliot Grant... a close aide to Esmeralda Langford and the secondrgest shareholder, with 16% of thepany. Eleanor, the sole heiress to her mother¡¯s 35% stake, had vanished without a trace. If Grant had managed to secure custodianship over Eleanor, he could¡¯ve used her voting power to take over thepany.


    But events didn¡¯t unfold that way.


    Grant publicly used William of orchestrating Eleanor¡¯s disappearance. Fortunately, the police intervened and ruled out any foul y, clearing William of involvement. Despite this, the meddlesome old man continued trying to remove him from power.


    William handled the matter decisively... rewarding certain shareholders with increased benefits and removing others from key positions. After that, his position became unassable. Still, one fact continued to gnaw at his pride: he remained only acting chairman.


    That, too, was thanks to Elliot Grant. It was he who invoked the seven-year presumed death rule, keeping William¡¯s authority tethered to a technicality. But William had changed the game. By enriching shareholders and tightening his grip on the board, he had begun consolidating true power. He appointed his daughter, Jennifer Whitmore, to a key role in thepany, and quietly began buying back shares on the market.


    Now, William held 8% of thepany, and Jennifer held 8.5%... stakes they had acquired quietly over time. Even if seven years were to pass and Eleanor remained missing, no one would dare challenge his rule.


    Most within thepany had already written Eleanor off. It was a deliberate narrative, spread from the top, to make William¡¯s leadership appear inevitable.


    That¡¯s why Eleanor¡¯s sudden reappearance in the city set off rms in William¡¯s mind. His first instinct was to eliminate the threat, but his attempt to assassinate her had failed. Worse still, she was now backed by the powerful Miller family. Though James had reassured him that Eleanor seemed to have lost her memory, possibly due to an ident during her disappearance. But William remained uneasy.


    He pushed her out of his mind, at least for the time being. But EverBuild¡¯s financial troubles had reached a boiling point. Justst month, he¡¯d been forced to take a bank loan just to cover payroll. For apany of EverBuild¡¯s size, that was a damning sign. He doubted any bank would lend in their current state, but somehow, their past reputation had still carried weight.


    Several employees from the finance department had already resigned. They¡¯d sensed the storm brewing long before the others. More were following suit. If the trend continued, EverBuild would face not only financial ruin but a debilitating talent drain.


    William¡¯s mood had soured considerably. He¡¯d snapped at employees, berated those who cked, and carried himself like a man under siege. The atmosphere in the office was bleak. Some long-time employees... who had given their lives to thepany... had begun looking for jobs elsewhere. The rot was setting in.


    But that wasn¡¯t the only thing fuelling his fury.


    Ever since Jeanne caught his secretary in his bed, she had vanished. Lydia hadn¡¯t shown up for work since. Her phone was off. William had checked the hospital where her brother had once been admitted... he¡¯d been discharged months ago. He even visited the address Lydia listed on her r¨¦sum¨¦, only to learn she¡¯d moved out weeks prior. Desperate, he called in a favour from a friend in the police, but even they couldn¡¯t find a trace of her.


    He now believed Jeanne had done something to her.


    William had always known Jeanne was ruthless, but never imagined she¡¯d go that far. She had been incandescent with rage after discovering the affair, and William hadn¡¯t dared question her since.


    With his personal life in shambles and thepany on the brink, Lydia¡¯s absence was a final blow. She had been his onlyfort. Now, with her gone, every minor inconvenience sent his temper ring.


    He exhaled deeply, steadying himself, and called in his new secretary... a loyal, grey-haired man who had worked at EverBuild for more than thirty years. He never imagined he¡¯d be promoted to this position sote in life, but the pay rise pleased him.


    William, on the other hand, was in no mood for pleasantries. The idea of recing Lydia with another pretty face had crossed his mind, but his financial situation didn¡¯t allow for indulgences. He had to tighten the reins, rebuild his base, and focus on survival.


    When the secretary entered, William issued a string of new orders.


    "I¡¯m leaving for home. If anyonees asking for money, tell them everything will be paid by next week. On your way home, stop by the NatWest Bank and request the manager to release the allocated funds this week. And tomorrow, before youe to the office, visit Mr. Sanders at the Greater Manchester Combined Authority. They¡¯ll be needing materials soon."


    Having delivered his instructions, William left the office.


    When William arrived home, he was met with an expected scene... Jeanne, Jennifer, James, and his mother, Phoebe, were all waiting for him in the drawing room. Despite the brewing tension between William and Jeanne behind closed doors, both maintained a cordial fa?ade in front of their soon-to-be inws.


    They had gathered to finalize the details of James and Jennifer¡¯s wedding, which was now scheduled for the following week.


    In light of EverBuild¡¯s recent loss of several major contracts, the Whitmore family had decided to advance the ceremony ahead of the original date. After all, the Clifford family was considered one of the most prestigious in Manchester. A union with them would elevate the Whitmore¡¯s social standing significantly. William intended to leverage the wedding to build stronger ties with the Clifford family¡¯s business allies and secure much-needed cooperation.


    Within the Clifford family, James¡¯s position was currently solid. His grandfather, the patriarch and de facto power behind the n... had recently thrown his support behind James. Though James was the fourth son, and his elder brothers had long vied for session, the old man¡¯s favour carried immense weight in determining the next head of the family. The current leader, James¡¯s first uncle, had been grooming his own son for the position for years, but James¡¯s recent sess in forging cooperation with the influential Chen family had drawn the patriarch¡¯s keen interest. His status in the n had risen sharply as a result.


    William knew all of this. That¡¯s why he had urged Jennifer to push the wedding date forward. Reluctantly, she agreed... and James, though hesitant, acquiesced.


    James had initially tried to dy the marriage as long as possible. He wasn¡¯t ready to settle down. Years ago, Jennifer had been his only sexual partner, but his interest in her had dulled over time. Though she still satisfied him in bed, she was no longer enough. James had long since begun indulging himself with a variety of women, both in the Kingdom and abroad... many of whom were fleeting pleasures shared within his exclusive circle of friends.


    He didn¡¯t want to lose that life of unrestrained indulgence.


    But everything changed when Jennifer announced she was pregnant.


    Trapped by circumstance, James had no choice but to ept the situation. He knew his mother, Phoebe, would be livid if he tried to deny the child. She had been pressuring him for a grandchild for years. Besides, Jennifer¡¯s mother and his own mother were both from the Baker family and distant cousins. The family ties were too delicate to risk offending.


    The moment Phoebe heard she would be a grandmother, she took charge of the preparations. She was relentless in organizing every detail of the uing wedding, insisting it be grand and dignified... worthy of both families. James¡¯s grandfather, too, expressed satisfaction upon hearing that an heir was on the way. A child meant continuation of the legacy... another thread in the Clifford family tapestry.


    For nearly two hours, the group discussed logistics, finalized the guest list, and ironed out ceremonial details. Eventually, they decided to take a break. A maid arrived with a silver tray of carefully arranged snacks, and they began nibbling while revisiting the guest list, double-checking for any important omissions.


    That was when William¡¯s phone rang.


    He nced at the screen. One of his assistants from the office.


    He answered immediately. As he listened, his expression darkened, the weight of the conversation pulling the corners of his mouth into a tight, grim line. Everyone in the room noticed the shift. After a few terse acknowledgments, he ended the call and lowered the phone.


    "That son of a snake," he spat, unable to restrain his fury.


    Jennifer looked up, rmed. "What happened, Dad?"

 Chapter 168: Emergency Shareholder Meeting

    <h4>Chapter 168: Emergency Shareholder Meeting</h4>


    Rage seeped from William¡¯s every pore, warping the air around him like heat off asphalt. His previously good mood shattered into shards. In that moment, he felt he could strangle anyone who so much as irritated him.


    Jennifer, sensing the fury pulsing off him, asked again, "Dad, what happened? Why are you so angry?"


    William let out a bitter grunt. "What else? Elliot Grant. That son of a bitch."


    The words burned on his tongue, but fury clogged his throat, halting further speech. He took several sharp breaths, forcing the fire down before it could consume him.


    "He¡¯s called an emergency shareholder meeting. Tomorrow." William¡¯s voice was tight, clipped. "Because of thepany¡¯s recent downturn, some of the other shareholders have aligned with him. They¡¯re nning to vote me out."


    His jaw clenched so hard it looked as though he might crack a tooth.


    Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Why are you even wasting emotion on those circus monkeys? They couldn¡¯t move a single strand of your hair before... they won¡¯t now."


    "This time feels different," William muttered. "Thepany¡¯s situation is worse than it¡¯s ever been."


    "Even if they all unite, they still can¡¯t match our shares," Jennifer countered. "We¡¯re thergest stakeholders, Dad. They can¡¯t outvote us."


    William¡¯s eyes narrowed. "The moment I heard Eleanor was back in town, I suspected Grant would try something like this. Amnesia or not, if he manages to get her involved, it¡¯ll be a problem."


    Jennifer nodded, thoughtful. "Then let¡¯s turn this on its head. Use this opportunity. Show the shareholders that we own the majority. Let them see the truth. Their alliance means nothing."


    William looked at her, a hard glint in his eye. "Are you sure we should reveal the transfer deed?"


    "I¡¯m sure. It¡¯s time we stopped ying defence. Use the meeting to im the chairmanship outright. Let them start their rebellion... we¡¯ll end it."


    Her confidence was unwavering, sharp as a de.


    William gave a grim smile and nodded. The conversation about the wedding was swiftly set aside. He picked up his phone and began making calls to loyal shareholders, summoning support. Jennifer did the same, rallying her backers and locking down alliances. They had a strategy now. A n built not just to survive, but to conquer.


    With the battlefield forming in their minds, both father and daughter went to sleep, their thoughts already deep into tomorrow.


    ***


    The conference room of EverBuild Solutions Limited buzzed with anticipation and tension.


    It wasn¡¯t yet nine, but already over a hundred shareholders had filled the room. The air was thick with murmurs and spection. Staff members, notified the night before, had worked overtime to prepare for what would be one of the most pivotal meetings in thepany¡¯s history.


    Temporary workers had been hired to assist the regrs. Extra security had been stationed at the entrances and key junctions, ready to ensure order. Everyone present had been told, a new chairman ising.


    Among the staff, hope flickered... tentative, fragile. Some dared to believe that fresh leadership might reverse thepany¡¯s downward spiral. Others remained sceptical, their optimism buried under the weight of years of decline and poor performance.


    Still, one truth bound them all: something was going to change.


    Whispers rippled through the room like a restless tide.


    "Mr. Grant is taking over. They say he can¡¯t watch thepany crumble any longer."


    "He was the co-founder," another voice added. "He built thispany with Esmeralda Langford. If anyone has the right..."


    "I heard William Whitmore is going to make it official. No more Acting Chairman."


    "Or maybe someonepletely new... someone we haven¡¯t seen before."


    The low murmur of chatter continued to hum through the conference room until the main shareholders and directors began arriving, one by one. Each ascended to the elevated dais at the front of the room, exchanging stiff nods and thin-lipped nces as anticipation rippled through the assembled crowd. The gathered shareholders lowered their voices to hushed tones, their murmurs bouncing off the polished mahogany-panelled walls.


    From the leftmost seat sat Amelia Hawthorne, heir to a Minds manufacturing empire. A striking woman in her forties, her tailored blue business suit highlighted her ageless elegance. Everyone in the room knew Amelia had little genuine concern for EverBuild¡¯s future... her father had invested in its early days, and she had inherited the shares along with a detached sense of obligation.


    Beside her sat Rupert Caldwell, a man with a ruddyplexion and bushy eyebrows, gripping his ever-present monogrammed cane like a ceremonial sceptre.


    Next was Arabe Sinir, dressed in a crisp grey office suit, her raven hair tucked behind one ear. She scanned the room with sharp, calcting eyes. Like Amelia, her family had been early investors in EverBuild.


    Then came Elliot Grant, the secondrgest shareholder. Towering and grave in a charcoal suit, he sat with his hands sped, his piercing gaze flicking across the crowd like a judge surveying a courtroom.


    One seat remained conspicuously empty... the one reserved for the chairman, who had yet to arrive.


    Beside the vacant chair sat Henry Smythe, the quiet investor from Yorkshire. Known for keeping out ofpany affairs unless profits were at stake, his fingers tapped rhythmically on the cover of his leather-bound notebook.


    Next was Dr. Prisma Patel, thepany¡¯s Director of Projects and a shareholder in her own right. She sat upright, eyes forward, calm in the brewing storm.


    At the far end was Marcus O¡¯Donnell, Director of Operations. His father had held the same role before him, and the O¡¯Donnell family still owned a substantial block of shares.


    Despite the drama toe, hierarchy held. The high tform loomed over the assembly, a symbolic divide between the decision-makers and the rest. Yet today, the ground beneath it all felt unsteady.


    Today¡¯s emergency meeting had been convened at Elliot Grant¡¯s behest. Now, with a subtle nod, he signalled to the man standing at the far right... Julian Rivers, the Director of Finance.


    Julian stepped forward to the podium, a folder tucked under one arm. His voice cut clean through thest of the murmurs as he activated the microphone.


    "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his gaze sweeping across the sea of tense faces, "thank you all for attending. Under normal circumstances, this meeting would be a celebration... a reaffirmation of our unity and vision. But unfortunately, we are gathered here today under the shadow of imminent copse."


    A collective hush fell over the room.


    Behind him, the screen flickered to life. Lines of data, graphs, and profit projections sprawled across it in grim red tones. Every figure told a story of decline.


    "Our cash flow has fallen by 45% this quarter," Julian said, his voice as steady as it was damning. "Our credit lines have been shed. Suppliers are demanding advance payments. Unless we secure an immediate capital injection, bankruptcy is not a possibility... it is a certainty."


    Gasps rippled across the room like startled birds. Arabe exchanged a nce with Dr. Patel. Grant¡¯s knuckles whitened where his hands remained sped.


    Julian turned and gestured to a graph showing five years of financial erosion. "This,dies and gentlemen, is the trajectory of ourpany. At this rate, we will not survive the next quarter."


    He closed the folder.


    "To prevent that oue," he said, "the board¡¯s key stakeholders and senior directors have agreed upon a decisive course of action. We propose the removal of Mr. William Whitmore from the position of acting chairman, and the appointment of a new chairman... someone who will return us to our roots, who understands the founding vision of thispany."


    Just then, the double doors at the rear of the conference room swung open.


    A sharp voice echoed across the hall:


    "Then tell me... who exactly is this new chairman? Elliot Grant? Has he ever even run a corner shop, let alone a national corporation?"


    Heads turned in unison as William Whitmore strode into the room, his presence maic, his voice rich with authority and scorn. He walked directly to the dais, his eyes sweeping the assembly.


    "This is EverBuild Solutions... a leading supplier in the region. This isn¡¯t some charity foundation or aristocratic hobby. It¡¯s a battlefield. And the years I¡¯ve led thispany, Mr. Grant couldn¡¯t survive for same amount of days here, I guarantee it."


    Gasps turned into murmurs of recognition. William¡¯s voice carried righteous indignation, and even those who opposed him found it difficult not to nod.


    "You want to return to the roots?" William asked, ascending the tform. "Fine. But remember... Mr. Grant was always a deskless director. He¡¯s never run operations, never negotiated contracts, never faced the market. And yet you¡¯ve entrusted him with your livelihoods? With ourpany?"


    He turned to face the high table.


    "And who gave you the right to make this decision without consulting me... thergest shareholder in EverBuild? What kind of coup is this?"


    Atst, Elliot Grant reached for the microphone before him.


    "Don¡¯t delude yourself, William. Your time is over. Thepany is returning to the hands of its rightful legacy. You¡¯ve enjoyed unearned wealth and undeserved power long enough. Step down gracefully... retire, enjoy your pension. Before you¡¯re thrown out."


    Williamughed, cold and scornful.


    "What a grand mouth you¡¯ve developed, Elliot. But let me remind you... my family holds 51.5% of EverBuild¡¯s shares. What gives you the right to threaten me in my ownpany?"


    Grant¡¯s face remained unmoved as he replied, voice low but clear.


    "You hold only 16.5%, William. The shares you and your daughter bought on the open market. The rest... the majority stake you¡¯ve been wielding for years... were never yours to begin with. You held them as custodian for Miss Eleanor Langford."


    He let the silence stretch before delivering the final blow.


    "And as of yesterday, Eleanor officially revoked your custodianship. You no longer speak for her. You no longer own those shares. You are, by every legal measure, finished."

 Chapter 169: A Dramatic Entrance

    <h4>Chapter 169: A Dramatic Entrance</h4>


    Hearing what Elliot Grant said, everyone present looked at each other. Many of them were new and didn¡¯t know what had happened in the past. They began whispering amongst themselves, trying to understand the situation.


    "What are they saying?"


    "Who is Eleanor?"


    "Was Mr Whitmore only the acting chairman? I thought he was the chairman."


    "You didn¡¯t know? He was always the acting chairman."


    "But I saw his name listed as chairman on thepany website."


    "Oh, that¡¯s because he used the title ¡¯acting chairman¡¯ at first. Later, he started calling himself the chairman. But technically, he was still acting chairman."


    "How long has he been acting chairman?"


    "I think it¡¯s been around thirty years."


    "That long? Are you sure?"


    "I may not be exact, but it¡¯ll be around that time."


    Some of the older shareholders remembered what had happened and answered the questions around them. This also gave them a sense of superiority, knowing they were more informed than the newer shareholders.


    Amidst the chaos, William Whitmore missed one critical detail from Mr Grant¡¯s statement. He had referred to Eleanor as Miss Eleanor Langford. But William wasn¡¯t in the right state of mind to notice the subtle implication in the old man¡¯s words. He was just one step away from iming the fullpany.


    Suddenly, he burst into loudughter. The unexpected outburst immediately silenced the room. Everyone turned their eyes towards him, anticipating a sudden twist.


    William pped slowly, mockingly, and said, "Great performance, Mr Grant. I never would have guessed you could deliver such theatrics at your age. You truly surprised me."


    "But," he continued, his tone sharp, "this is a shareholder meeting, not a political rally where you can win sympathy votes. You have to talk with documents, not empty words. When Eleanor turned twenty, she transferred all her shares to me. This is the transfer deed, signed by Eleanor herself."


    He opened the folder in his hand, pulled out a document, and extended it towards the board members on the high tform. Mr Grant gestured to Julian Rivers, who stepped forward, collected the document, and handed it to Amelia Hawthorne. Amelia examined it carefully, then passed it down the line.


    William stood proudly, confidence returning to his posture. As the document made its way through the directors, he watched them with a smug expression.


    When thest of them had checked it, he spoke again.


    "As you can see, I¡¯ve been the rightful chairman of thepany for a long time. You appointed me acting chairman, and I epted it without objection. I didn¡¯t care for a petty title while I worked to hold thispany together. But now, swayed by this old man¡¯s words, you ignore my decades of service. This is nothing short of injustice."


    A few of his supporters pped from their seats. Some shareholders even began to feel that the meeting had been orchestrated to corner William Whitmore unfairly.


    Just as William prepared to speak further, Henry Smythe raised his hand and called out loudly, "Stop your monologue, Mr Whitmore. Who do you think we are? Do you expect us to be fooled by a transfer deed that hasn¡¯t even been signed?"


    His voice rang through the room, sharp and angry.


    William was startled by the usation. He stammered, "W¨Cwhat? She clearly signed it. It was also witnessed. Please check again."


    Rupert Caldwell scoffed. "Now I see why thepany¡¯s performance has been so poor in recent years. We should¡¯ve looked into this long ago. This man isn¡¯t fit to run anything."


    The document was now in Marcus O¡¯Donnell¡¯s hands. He held it up for everyone to see.


    "Your deed looks well prepared," Marcus said coldly. "All the legal points are in order... except for one thing. No one signed it. Not Eleanor. Not any witnesses. You didn¡¯t even try to forge the signatures. Honestly, it¡¯s disappointing."


    William¡¯s eyes widened. He quickly stepped forward, snatched the document from Marcus¡¯s hand, and scanned it with trembling fingers. But no matter how frantically he looked, there were no signatures. The document was nk.


    "How could this be?" he muttered under his breath.


    His mind reeled. It felt like the world was copsing around him. His eyes widened in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat. A sudden weightlessness overtook him, and he stumbled, copsing to the floor.


    In that moment, he looked like he had aged ten years.


    Where did it go wrong? he thought. I¡¯m sure the document was real. It was clearly signed by Eleanor.


    After so many years of careful preparation, he couldn¡¯t ept this oue. Someone must have betrayed him. His gaze shifted to the members sitting at the high tform.


    He rose shakily to his feet and pointed a trembling finger at them.


    "You... you... You must have tampered with the deed. It was clearly signed. I made sure of it. You¡¯re all conspiring against me. Give me back the original deed!"


    His voice rose to a near roar by the end.


    The shareholders watched with bewildered expressions. Those seated in the front rows had clearly seen that no one had altered or swapped the document. It was the same paper from beginning to end... untouched.


    A murmur spread through the crowd once more. Everyone began discussing the spectacle unfolding before their eyes. None of them had ever witnessed a shareholders¡¯ meeting turn so dramatic.


    They didn¡¯t know what to make of William Whitmore now. Had he lost his mind after being removed from power? Why would he make such a wild usation against the entire board? What did he hope to gain?


    At that moment, the door of the conference room suddenly opened and a squad of armed guards entered. d in bulletproof vests, tactical uniforms, and earpieces, they carried the militarised presence of an elite security detail. Each one held a Heckler & Koch MP5, looking less likepany security and more like they¡¯d just stepped off a battlefield.


    The room fell into pin-drop silence. Only the heavy thuds of boots echoed across the marble floor as the guards took their positions. Once in ce, even those sounds ceased. The crowd, stunned by the unexpected show of force, didn¡¯t dare utter a whisper.


    On the high stage, however, the directors and major shareholders remained calm. Those with keen eyes noticed this and guessed that they might have known in advance what was about to happen. Sensing their ease, the rest of the room rxed ever so slightly... though the tension lingered in the air like static before a storm.


    Then, more footsteps approached... measured,posed, drawing closer to the open doorway where two guards now stood sentinel.


    A tall elderly man entered first, dressed in a ck ceremonial suit that exuded authority. His appearance was unmistakably British aristocracy, from his upright bearing to the quiet dignity of his steps. One didn¡¯t need to be told... he was a man of high status.


    Behind him walked a strikingly beautiful woman d in a rich purple business suit. Every step radiated confidence. The room seemed to pause in admiration of her presence.


    From the front row, an older shareholder whispered in disbelief, "Esmeralda Langford!"


    "No," murmured the elderly woman beside him. "That must be her daughter. Eleanor."


    The atmosphere shifted dramatically. Upon seeing the neers, the major shareholders and directors on the stage all rose to their feet in unison.


    As if on cue, Julian Rivers stepped forward and, with practiced solemnity, dered:


    "My lords,dies, and gentlemen... It is my great honour to present His Lordship, the Right Honourable Walter Langford, Earl of Birmingham and distinguished member of the House of Lords. Apanying His Lordship, I also present the Lady Eleanor Langford, only daughter of our founder, thete Lady Esmeralda Langford."


    A collective ripple went through the room. Hearing the announcement and observing how the VIPs on stage reacted, everyone present instinctively stood up in respect. All eyes turned to the pair.


    Security personnel formed a clear path down the centre aisle. Walter and Eleanor made their way to the stage at aposed pace, followed closely by La, who moved with quiet precision.


    Those on the tform stepped down from their ces to receive them. Elliot Grant personally greeted them and guided them to the central seats on the stage. Once Walter and Eleanor were seated, the rest of the board followed suit and took their ces.


    La remained standing behind Eleanor, dressed in a sleek ck uniform. She didn¡¯t carry an MP5 like the rest of the security team, only apact firearm on her belt. But there was something in her posture, in her presence, that made it clear: she was no less formidable. She carried herself like a battle-hardened veteran.


    With the new arrivals seated, the crowd in the front rows began to settle. A few shareholders tried to discreetly take photos on their mobile phones... only to be sharply instructed by security to put their devices away immediately.


    Seeing this, Julian remembered an important detail. He quickly returned to the podium and announced:


    "Ladies and gentlemen, please refrain from taking any photographs or recordings from this moment onward. This is His Lordship¡¯s private appearance. We do not wish for any details of this meeting to be leaked to the media or shared online."


    There were a few looks of disappointment from shareholders hoping for keepsakes, but upon hearing the announcement, most nodded in understanding.


    Julian continued, "I know many of you are wondering why His Lordship would attend apany shareholders¡¯ meeting. Well, allow me to rify. You all know that our founder was Esmeralda Langford. What you did not know was that she was the only daughter of the former Earl of Birmingham, His Lordship the Right Honourable Edward Langford, former Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal. Only the co-founders of EverBuild knew her true identity, as she insisted on building thispany without relying on her noble lineage."

 Chapter 170: The New Beginning

    <h4>Chapter 170: The New Beginning</h4>


    When the shareholders heard Julian¡¯s speech, they were left in awe. None of them had imagined that thepany¡¯s founder had such a mighty background. But it wasn¡¯t their fault.


    From the beginning, Esmeralda had worked hard to separate her business from her political family. She had fled to Manchester to start her own venture, defying her family, who strongly opposed her ambition. In the early days, she had to raise funds from others, which was why... even as founder, she only held 35% of the shares.


    She had never told anyone about her background, fearing that if her father discovered her activities, he would interfere with her dream. Even on her deathbed, she didn¡¯t call her father or her family. She requested her closest friends to keep her situation secret... even from her own daughter.


    Elliot Grant and the other founding shareholders honoured that request for many years. But now, it was Eleanor who had persuaded them to involve the Langford family in EverBuild¡¯s business. Under her careful nning, today¡¯s meeting had been arranged to take over thepany and lead it down a new path.


    William Whitmore, overwhelmed by the spectacle, stood silently to one side. The revtion of Esmeralda¡¯s background had shaken him to the core. He had served as Esmeralda¡¯s secretary before her death for a long time, but she had never mentioned any family. He had always assumed she had no family left. That belief was the foundation of his scheme to take over thepany all those years ago.


    Now, for the first time in years, he feared for his life.


    Julian continued, "Some of us were aware of her background, and we also knew that this smallpany in Manchester would hardly interest her powerful family. After our founder¡¯s untimely passing, they never imed a penny of profit from EverBuild. But now, with thepany on the brink of bankruptcy, we had no choice but to seek their support.


    "A few days ago, our co-founders contacted the founder¡¯s daughter to request her help. As you all know, she still holds 35% of thepany¡¯s shares under her name. Though she has never taken any profits, her ownership was never in question."


    He paused and nced respectfully at Eleanor before continuing.


    "Upon hearing about our situation, and to save her mother¡¯s creation, Lady Eleanor Langford decided to step in. She has now transferred all the shares under her name to the Langford Estate. Thus, the mighty Langford family has be the owner of EverBuild... and we have the honour of His Lordship¡¯s presence today."


    He turned to the assembly. "Now, I humbly request Lady Eleanor Langford to share her instructions with us."


    There was a microphone in front of Eleanor on the table. She adjusted it slightly and began to speak:


    "Thank you all... for your blood, sweat, and years ofmitment to thepany my mother built. Without your dedication, EverBuild would have ceased to exist long ago. On behalf of the Langford family, I personally thank all shareholders, directors, employees, business partners, and well-wishers for their support through the years. I hope you will continue that support in the years ahead."


    She paused, scanning the room where everyone sat quietly, fully absorbed in her words.


    "Now that thepany hase under the Langford Estate," she continued, "you will find it easier to restore EverBuild to its former glory."


    After a moment¡¯s pause, she added, "I have already discussed with those present on the stage, and we have decided to appoint a new chairman for thepany from within the Langford family. As you know, my granduncle Lord Walter Langford will continue his duty to the Kingdom, and I also have several other businesses to lead. So, we have decided to appoint Graham Langford as chairman of EverBuild."


    She nodded briefly to Walter, then addressed the crowd again.


    "Graham Langford is currently overseas, attending to an urgent matter. He will formally assume his duties next week."


    Her expression turned more serious as she said, "However, this time, we will separate the board from thepany¡¯s daily operations. The board has already selected a new CEO who will be tasked with bringing EverBuild back on track. I hope you will support her leadership and work with her to take thispany to new heights."


    With that, Eleanor leaned back in her seat. Apart from a few stunned individuals, the room erupted into apuse. The majority of shareholders weed the changes with enthusiasm and relief.


    Meanwhile, William Whitmore stepped forward towards the centre of the stage, his eyes fixed on Eleanor. A guard moved to block him, but Eleanor raised her hand, signalling for them to let him pass. As he approached, she calmly turned off the microphone in front of her. Following her lead, the others on the tform also switched off theirs.


    Julian took the moment and announced from the podium, "Thank you, Her Ladyship, for your encouraging words. Now, it is time to introduce our new CEO. Ladies and gentlemen, please wee... Miss Francesca Walters."


    All eyes turned towards the entrance.


    From the same doorway entered a confident, middle-aged woman dressed in a sleek ck business suit. She carried a folder in one hand, her posture poised, professional. Her short golden hair gave her a distinctive, sharp look. Immediately, many of the shareholders recognised her... her face had appeared on television interviews, and her name had made headlines in financial pages for years.


    "Oh my God! Is that really The Francesca Walters?"


    "Of course it is. Didn¡¯t you hear the announcement?"


    "I heard... but still. Can you believe she¡¯s going to be EverBuild¡¯s new CEO? Nothing can stop thispany now."


    "Yes, I agree with you."


    "But how? I heard she resigned from Rolls-Royce just a few days ago. I never imagined she¡¯de to work for apany this small. I still can¡¯t believe it."


    "Hush! Let¡¯s hear what Mr Rivers is saying."


    The crowd began whispering amongst themselves in hushed voices. All were stunned by the announcement, and even more so by the woman standing right in front of them.


    Julian, unfazed by the murmuring, continued his speech. "Many of you already know her. She¡¯s the unbeaten queen of the business world. I understand that many of you are shocked to see her here. But what¡¯s even more surprising is that, at the request of the Langford family, she resigned from Rolls-Royce solely to join ourpany."


    By this time, Francesca had already reached the podium. Julian smiled and said, "I won¡¯t take any more of your time. Let¡¯s hear directly from Miss Francesca Walters. Ladies and gentlemen, please give her a big round of apuse."


    The crowd erupted into thunderous apuse. Julian, having delivered the perfect distraction, stepped back and returned to his seat.


    Francesca stood confidently behind the podium and adjusted the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for giving me the opportunity to work with thispany, which holds such a long-standing legacy in this region. When Her Ladyship asked me to take up the position of CEO, she told me thepany was on the verge of bankruptcy. I was a little offended."


    She paused with a yful smile. "But let¡¯s be honest... who in this Kingdom has the courage to outright reject the request of a Lord?"


    The crowd burst intoughter, and even a few smiles appeared among the board members.


    She continued, "After that, I started looking into thepany¡¯s background and history, and I became truly interested. Then, I asked the only question that really matters when dealing with apany on itsst legs... what about the funding? Her Ladyship confirmed that I could ess any amount needed from the banks, with the Langford family acting as guarantor. At that point, I agreed without hesitation. I enjoy new challenges, and this one felt just right."


    As Francesca spoke, another drama was quietly unfolding on the stage.


    Now with permission, William approached Eleanor. A guard stepped forward, but Eleanor raised her hand slightly to allow him through. She then calmly switched off her microphone. Seeing her action, the others on the stage followed suit and turned off theirs as well.


    William stood before Eleanor and said, "You can¡¯t do this to me. I worked hard to bring thispany to where it is now. I can make it profitable again. This is the only business I¡¯ve ever had. Please... don¡¯t remove me from my position."


    Unlike before, William¡¯s voice was calm and respectful. The presence of a high-ranking Lord and armed guards left no room for arrogance. The usual authority he used to unt around Eleanor for years had vanished. Now that he knew of her noble lineage, his tone was humbled.


    Seeing Eleanor remain silent in response, William pressed further.


    "No matter what happened between us in the past, I¡¯m still your father. Now that you¡¯ve found your mother¡¯s powerful family... that¡¯s good. But don¡¯t be so ruthless as to destroy my only source of ie. How will I survive without thispany? I¡¯ve given my whole life to it. You can¡¯t be this cruel to your own father. The gods will not forgive you. Please, give me my position back."


    His voice took on a righteous tone as he finished his plea.


    At that very moment, Julian¡¯s voice rang through the hall, announcing the name of the new CEO.


    William turned instinctively towards the door, and what he saw left him speechless.


    "How... how could it be?" he whispered in disbelief.


    He turned to Eleanor, eyes wide, heart pounding... but she didn¡¯t say a word. Instead, she calmly reached for an envelope and handed it to him.


    William opened it with trembling fingers and removed the paper inside. As he read the contents, his legs gave way beneath him.


    And he copsed on the floor.

 Chapter 171: A Heartfelt Conversation

    <h4>Chapter 171: A Heartfelt Conversation</h4>


    A few days ago, Eleanor had been in a live meeting with Aisha Bello, herpany¡¯s project manager in Nigeria. She was reviewing progress at her Nigerian factories, while Aisha was showing a live feed of the construction site.


    After taking the Bultungin n as a partner in her Nigerian venture, things had progressed surprisingly well. The n had proven themselves worthy of their reputation as the strongest in the region. Their influence over the local government was impressive... so much so that Aisha was full of praise. They had initially nned tounch their first factory within six months, but now it seemed they could do it even sooner.


    Money was a powerful weapon, but there was a limit to what money alone could achieve. When mixed with power and influence, however, it became unstoppable. And that was exactly what was happening with Heimdall¡¯s Nigerian expansion.


    Though the Bultungin n wasn¡¯t poor, they were not considered among the truly wealthy ns. Historically, Werehyenas were fierce by nature. They had always invested more energy in expanding territory and proving their strength than in umting wealth.


    That was why, when peace eventually returned to the region, the Bultungin n found themselves with plenty of power... but not enough money like other supernatural ns. Business had never been their strong suit. Instead, they had embedded themselves into politics and civil services in human society.


    That was also the reason why, when Eleanor visited Kabultiloa, the n Head, Ooduwa Bultungin Kacha, had decided to take a gamble with her. He knew the Raynors were excellent at business. And if the partnership seeded, his n could finally profit from a field they had always struggled in.


    With age came wisdom. Ooduwa understood the true value of money. And he also understood that his n, while excellent warriors, were hopeless in business. In peaceful times, money reigned supreme. Political power could shape nations... but only if backed by wealth. Without it, there were limits even to their influence.


    So, once the partnership deed was signed, he ordered his men to support Eleanor¡¯s team wholeheartedly. He had a hunch that if Eleanor earned more from her Nigerianpanies than from other countries, she would naturally invest more there. And the more she invested, the more the Bultungin n would gain.


    It was evening, and Eleanor was in her study when Ethan came to see her. After a knock on the door, she sensed his presence outside. In the past few months, since her return to the Kingdom, Ethan had never oncee to her study. She guessed it was either something urgent... or something deeply personal.


    She ended the meeting quickly and called out, "Come in."


    The door opened, and Ethan stepped inside. After closing it behind him, he said, "I have something very important to tell you."


    He was unusually serious. Eleanor had never seen him in this mood, especially not with her. Instinctively, her mind raced to guess what it might be.


    "Finally, he couldn¡¯t wait any longer and decided to propose marriage... No. That can¡¯t be it. He wouldn¡¯t propose like that. That would bepletely unromantic... and I¡¯d be disappointed."


    She corrected herself quickly.


    "Focus, Eleanor. You¡¯re not some wolf in heat. Think. It might be something about business... but he never discusses his business with me. If there were any problems, he¡¯d sort them out himself. Then what?"


    "It¡¯s probably not n matters. If it were, he¡¯d go to Fiona. If it involved Freya, he¡¯d speak directly. Not that either. Could it be about my business? But everything is running smoothly."


    "Why am I guessing? He¡¯s here to tell me. Let¡¯s hear what he has to say."


    All these thoughts passed through her mind in the blink of an eye. Eventually, she said calmly, "Alright. Take a seat first."


    Ethan walked forward and sat opposite her.


    "It¡¯s definitely about my business," she thought.


    Once seated, Ethan took arge envelope from his pocket and pushed it across the table towards her.


    "Here. Read this first," he said.


    Eleanor opened the envelope and froze as she looked at the contents. Her mouth dropped open slightly.


    "That¡¯s my old signature. The one I used when I worked at EverBuild..." she muttered, flipping through the documents. "I don¡¯t remember signing this transfer deed... Someone must¡¯ve tricked me. Oh hell! This is a transfer of ownership of properties. So many pages... When did I sign all these?"


    Then it clicked.


    After her awakening, she had begun to remember things from her early childhood with increasing rity. This memory surfaced easily.


    "William gave me loads of papers to sign when I joined EverBuild as a manager. He said it was standard policy for employees to sign thepany¡¯s terms and conditions. He even said I didn¡¯t need to sign them as the owner... but it would set a good example if I did. I checked the first two or three pages... and then just... signed the rest."


    She looked up sharply.


    "How did you know this even existed?" she asked.


    Ethan replied, "You were busy managing yourpanies abroad. I stayed behind. I nted a few of my people near William to gather information. I was sure he must¡¯ve had some kind of leverage over you... something he was keeping hidden. One of my men found this in William¡¯s study. I was able to retrieve the documents just now. With these out of his hands, he has no way to im ownership of thepany."


    He paused for a moment, then added, "Of course, you could¡¯ve challenged him in court. But I thought taking them back quietly was the better move... especially since he¡¯s your father. But... there¡¯s something odd about it."


    Eleanor frowned.


    Ethan continued, "I looked into the marriage registry... both the local government and the church records from that time. I found nothing. I suspect... the marriage between William and your mother may not have been legal at all."


    He met her eyes, his voice careful.


    "Don¡¯t take offence. I¡¯m only stating the facts so you can think clearly."


    Eleanor was silent for a moment. Then she said slowly, "I guessed that. But I never delved deeper. After all... he wasn¡¯t my father."


    Ethan was stunned. "Do you mean..."


    Eleanor nodded. "Yes. He wasn¡¯t my biological father. I¡¯ve confirmed it. He was my mother¡¯s secretary. Everyone fell for his ploy. Including me."


    There was a deep sadness in her voice. Ethan could feel the hurt behind her calm expression. Wanting to lift the weight off the moment, he changed the subject.


    "You should take over your mother¡¯spany. Now that William has no leverage left, it should be easy."


    Eleanor said, "I know. It was part of my n. But I already have a lot on my te. I wanted to take it back only after settling a few of my other goals."


    Ethan frowned. "You may not realise... but if you dy much longer, there might not be apany left to take back."


    Eleanor looked up, surprised. "What happened to thepany? Uncle Grant didn¡¯t tell me anything."


    Ethan said, "It¡¯s on the verge of bankruptcy. That¡¯s... partly my fault. After what happened to you, I started quietly suppressing EverBuild... to make William¡¯s life as difficult as possible. It¡¯s been five years, and one by one, all thepany¡¯s previous partners got wind of it and pulled out. William kept the situation hidden for a long time, but the truth might surface soon."


    Eleanor¡¯s voice turned resolute. "Then I have no choice but to take over."


    "If you don¡¯t want to handle it directly," Ethan said, "you could hand it over to the Langford family. If you¡¯re unsure whether they can manage it well, appoint a CEO. As for profitability, once Purplebricks starts working with EverBuild, it will get back on the right track."


    Eleanor sighed. "Alright. Let¡¯s see what I can do. I¡¯ll speak with Uncle Grant and the other shareholders."


    The two of them sat in silence for a while, the mood quiet but reflective.


    Eventually, Eleanor broke the silence. "After all these years... I still don¡¯t know who my father is. My mother left no clue. The only thing I know is that she might have conceived me while travelling through the Scandinavian countries. He may have been a local... or just another tourist, like my mother."


    There was a sadness in her voice that hadn¡¯t been there before. She continued quietly, "It¡¯s a big world. He could be anyone."


    Ethan tried to lift her spirits. "Don¡¯t overthink it. Your mother must¡¯ve had her reasons. She was a smart woman. She built EverBuild from the ground up without using her family name... that takes more than just talent. In all this... I¡¯m actually d that a scammer like William wasn¡¯t your real father."


    Eleanor let out a deep sigh. "That¡¯s true."


    Ethan added gently, "And don¡¯t forget... you¡¯re not alone. You have us. Freya and I are always here for you. The entire Raynor n is your family now."


    Hearing that, Eleanor¡¯s mood lightened. She smiled and said in a teasing tone, "Was that your way of proposing?"


    Ethan¡¯s cheeks turned slightly red. He stammered, "N... No. I didn¡¯t..."


    The gloomy atmosphere in the room visibly softened.

 Chapter 172: Anastasiya Returns to Russia

    <h4>Chapter 172: Anastasiya Returns to Russia</h4>


    William sat limply on the stage floor, staring at Eleanor. His eyes were vacant, like a man who had lost his entire world. Deep inside, he knew... it was over. Everything had been lost.


    What Eleanor handed him was a paternity test result. There was no name printed on it, but he understood perfectly what Eleanor meant.


    No one knew better than William what he had done in the past. He just couldn¡¯t understand what had gone wrong now. After Esmeralda¡¯s death, he had sessfully fooled everyone and seized all her properties. Over the years, he had grown used to the illusion that everything belonged to him. It had never crossed his mind that one day, his carefully built empire would copse in front of his eyes.


    Now, realising that he had been utterly defeated, Eleanor gave a discreet signal to La to manage the situation.


    La acted immediately. She walked to William, and with the help of two guards, escorted him backstage. William, still in shock, didn¡¯t even think of resisting.


    While this was happening, the attention of the room was focused entirely on their new CEO, Francesca Walters. No one noticed what was going on with William. After all, shareholders only cared about one thing... profit. Now that a prominent figure had taken over theirpany, all they could think about was how much money they might earn in theing year.


    Amidst the cheers and apuse, Francesca concluded her speech and stepped down. She walked directly to Walter Langford, Earl of Birmingham, and bowed respectfully.


    After all, it was their first meeting. Until now, she had onlymunicated with Eleanor.


    Julian stepped up to the microphone and addressed the crowd.


    "His Lordship,dies and gentlemen... on behalf of thepany, we kindly request everyone present today to keep what transpired in this meeting confidential. We don¡¯t want word of our management changes reaching ourpetitors. Theter they find out, the better. We trust in your cooperation."


    He paused for a moment before continuing.


    "His Lordship has another engagement, so he will take his leave shortly. To mark the joyous asion of His Lordship¡¯s visit, we¡¯ve arranged a luncheon for everyone present. Please bear with us while preparations arepleted."


    At that, Walter and Eleanor stood and began walking towards the exit. The guards, already on high alert, moved in formation. La followed close behind. All directors and major shareholders... including Francesca... trailed them out of the conference room.


    Once everyone had exited, the guards left as well, closing the doors behind them.


    Inside, the shareholders broke into a flurry of chatter. The atmosphere had transformed. A sense of optimism filled the room. Everyone could feel it... better days were ahead.


    ***


    Outside, Walter¡¯s official vehicle was already waiting. It was nked by Eleanor¡¯s ten ck Range Rovers and heavily armed security.


    One by one, the directors and shareholders said their farewells to Eleanor and Walter as they entered the car. The vehicle moved off with a ceremonial wave of the g, followed by the convoy.


    Amelia Hawthorne turned to Elliot Grant. "I never imagined little Eleanor would turn out to be such a finedy. She resembles her mother far too much."


    Elliot sighed. "Every time I look at her, I miss Esmeralda all over again."


    Henry Smythe interjected, "Alright, I understand your sentiment... but we¡¯ve left a room full of shareholders. And William is still in the backstage. We need to deal with him now."


    Prisma Patel asked, "What did they do to Mr Whitmore?"


    Henry replied, "Not much. They tied him to a chair and left him there."


    Elliot muttered, "I still can¡¯t believe he managed to fool all of us for thirty years. If Eleanor hadn¡¯t ordered that DNA test, we¡¯d never have uncovered the deception."


    Amelia said, "Well, the past is the past. What matters now is managing the shareholders. Eleanor requested we keep this news under wraps for at least a week... we have to respect that."


    Francesca turned to the group. "Let me deal with the shareholders. You can handle William however you see fit."


    She paused, then added, "Also... I¡¯d like to begin my role immediately. If there¡¯s no objection."


    Elliot nodded. "Please, go ahead. You can take the chairman¡¯s room for now. And if you need anything,e to me. As long as I can help, there¡¯s no need to bother Eleanor."


    With that, the group turned back and entered thepany building.


    ***


    Amidst the splendour of the Greater Caucasus and its many snow-white peaks, a ck castle stood, exuding an ancient aura. It was located in such a perfect position that, unless one already knew of its existence, it would never be found. Its meticulous design blended so seamlessly with the surroundings that even satellites couldn¡¯t detect it.


    Inside the castle, a middle-aged man was scribbling something in the corner of his room. Unlike others, he didn¡¯t use a study for work. He preferred to do everything in his private quarters.


    His raven-ck hair swayed gently as his quill moved across the paper. His face was too perfect for this age... wless and cold. He wore a silk-ck shirt, open at the chest to expose the smooth gleam of his corbone, and tailored trousers, stitched to perfection.


    The man was Lord Alexander Ivanov of the Greater Caucasus, caretaker of Eastern Europe and a member of the Vampire High Council.


    The room was shrouded in eerie silence. The only sound was the distant hum of wind brushing against trees and mountains, asionally carrying the cry of a distant bird.


    The door slowly opened, and the young, graceful Anastasiya Ivanova stepped in. She didn¡¯t wait for permission like the other n members did. Normally, she upheld every rule of her family... but not when her grandfather was alone. And certainly not now, when she was furious with him.


    "Grandpa, you tricked me."


    That was her first sentence upon entering the room. Her voice trembled with anger. The frustration she felt was impossible to miss.


    Alexander had already stopped writing. He turned his head towards the door. His cial blue eyes, almost metallic, shone with the unnatural sheen of the immortal. A rare smile curled on his lips.


    He said with a smirk, "I didn¡¯t do anything. You¡¯re using your poor grandpa out of baseless anger."


    She responded in an aggrieved tone, "Old man. I¡¯ve figured it all out. You knew this would happen. You just didn¡¯t want me around. You didn¡¯t want me to be happy. I fell for your sweet words, and now my life is a mess."


    Alexander said, "I¡¯m sorry if something unfortunate happened abroad. Tell your grandpa... I¡¯ll take care of it."


    Anastasiya scoffed. "Hah! As if I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re thinking. You knew this would happen eventually. That¡¯s why you sent me to befriend Eleanor. And now, my peaceful life is over."


    Alexander said, "If you don¡¯t like it, then quit. No one is forcing you to do anything."


    Anastasiya threw her arms up. "How could I back out now? Without any warning, Eleanor transferred twenty billion dors into my ount. How can I just step back? Can you believe it? Twenty fucking billion!"


    Alexander said, "Calm down. I expected some coboration between you two... but not to this extent. I don¡¯t know how you youngsters think these days. When you told me your project would need forty billion dors, I was shocked. As far as I know, no vampire in history has ever owned apany thatrge. You¡¯ll be the first."


    Anastasiya said, "Now that things have escted to this point, I can¡¯t walk away. But you¡¯ll have to help me."


    Alexander nodded. "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve already notified the necessary offices to grant you the permissions you need. Dimitry will be at your side throughout the process."


    Anastasiya folded her arms. "Not just that. I don¡¯t have that kind of money to invest. You¡¯ll have to help me."


    Alexander asked, "How much do you need?"


    Anastasiya replied, "I haven¡¯t spent much. The money our family gave me is mostly untouched in the treasury... just over ten billion. The establishment will need around thirty-five billion. So, I¡¯m short by only five."


    Alexander said, "If I give you the remaining funds, how do you n to repay it?"


    Anastasiya¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Should I start with how much you¡¯ve already spent covering for other family members who failed in many businesses or gambling? Also... I don¡¯t want you or anyone else to be shareholders in this. I don¡¯t want to owe you money either. You can ask me to do something in return. A task. Not business."


    Alexander thought for a moment, then said, "Very well. Murmansk Ost is a region where I¡¯ve never had much control. Technically, it falls under my domain ording to supernatural conventions, but my influence has never reached that far. It shares a long border with Find... and the werewolves are strong there. Since you¡¯ll be working closely with Eleanor Raynor, this would benefit you in establishing your rule."


    Anastasiya narrowed her eyes. "This feels like another trap you¡¯re setting for me."


    Alexander gave a soft chuckle. "Don¡¯t overthink it. I give you money, and you work for me. It¡¯s that simple. Besides, if you want to run a sessful business, I¡¯d advise you to live in that region. Choose a ce you like... I¡¯ll have it prepared to your taste."


    Anastasiya muttered under her breath, "Why do I feel like you¡¯re just trying to send me away..."

 Chapter 173: Tension in the Whitmore Family

    <h4>Chapter 173: Tension in the Whitmore Family</h4>


    That day, William Whitmore exited thepany building utterly defeated. He didn¡¯t even go to the underground parking lot where his car was parked. Absentmindedly, he walked all the way home.


    By the time he arrived, his clothes were drenched in sweat, his hair dishevelled... he looked like he¡¯d just walked through a disaster.


    Jeanne, who was on the ground floor sipping tea, rushed towards him the moment she saw him.


    "What happened to you?" she almost shouted in shock.


    William didn¡¯t answer. He simply walked past her towards the stairs. He nearly stumbled on the steps, and if Jeanne hadn¡¯t been following close behind, he might have fallen. She caught him just in time. He went directly to his room.


    As soon as he entered, he copsed onto the floor. Tears began to fall silently down his cheeks. Jeanne had never seen him like this before. rmed, she immediately called Jennifer, who rushed in from her room... only to stop, stunned, at the sight before her.


    No matter how much both women tried tofort him or ask what had happened, William couldn¡¯t utter a single word.


    It took a long time before he regained enoughposure to exin everything. Slowly, he recounted in detail what had happened at the shareholders¡¯ meeting.


    "I can¡¯t believe Eleanor has such a powerful family behind her," he said. "I knew her mother¡¯s surname was Langford, but I never imagined she was connected to the Langfords of Birmingham. You were her secretary for years... how could you miss something so important?" Jeanne asked sharply.


    William shook his head. "She never mentioned it. Not to any of us. We were relying on the Grant family¡¯s power and connections here. She never once used her father¡¯s influence. Even when she died, her father was the Lord Keeper of the Privy Seal... but she never said a word about it."


    Jennifer added, "Maybe she had a falling out with her family. I remember her grave was in Manchester. Even after death, she didn¡¯t return to her family."


    Jeanne said, "What¡¯s done is done. But how on earth did Eleanor get those transfer deeds from your study? Someone in this house must have helped her. Maybe one of the staff went in while cleaning."


    William frowned. "The key to that cab is always kept in this room. If someone stole those documents, they¡¯d have had to take the key from here and then go to the study. And they would¡¯ve had to know exactly what they were looking for."


    Jeanne replied, "We should interrogate the staff and find the culprit."


    Suddenly, one name came to William¡¯s mind... someone who had once shown curious interest inpany ownership documents. But the moment Lydia¡¯s face appeared in his thoughts, he shook his head. No. She had no reason to betray him. And he certainly wasn¡¯t going to say her name in front of Jeanne.


    Instead, he said, "It¡¯s pointless. No one will confess. Besides, we can¡¯t involve the police in this kind of theft. It¡¯s better if we rece all of them with new staff to avoid further problems."


    Jeanne nodded. "You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll contact the agency tomorrow and hire a new batch of staff."


    Jennifer said, "That¡¯s fine. But what do we do now? With the Langford family¡¯s power, we can¡¯t do anything to remove them. What options do we have?"


    Jeanne replied, "They can¡¯t throw you outpletely, even if they want to. We still hold our shares. Even if they don¡¯t appoint you chairman again, they¡¯ll have to make you a director."


    Jennifer agreed, "Yes, Dad. We should contact the board and demand that you be made a director. We¡¯re still the secondrgest shareholders in thepany."


    William was quiet for a moment. Then he said slowly, "There¡¯s a problem. I applied for a bank loan for thepany. I was nning to take some of the funds from that for your wedding expenses. Now, I have only two options: either I sell this house, or I sell some of my shares."


    He paused, then added, "I¡¯ve decided to sell part of my shares to fund the wedding. At this stage, we can¡¯t afford to fall behind the Clifford family. If we don¡¯t maintain appearances, they won¡¯t take us seriously."


    Jennifer protested, "But if you sell your shares, how will we regain control in thepanyter?"


    William said, "I know it might make things harder in the future... but we don¡¯t have another option. Aside from this house, we own nothing. And we don¡¯t even haveplete documentation for the property. Other than the shares, we¡¯ve got nothing left."


    Jeanne frowned. "How could that be? What happened to the ie from all these years at thepany?"


    William scoffed bitterly. "We spent it all... on your luxurious lifestyle. Whatever we could save, we used to buy more shares in EverBuild. It¡¯s not your fault. I was the one who underestimated the enemy. I never imagined Eleanor could be such a threat."


    Jennifer stood up abruptly. Her voice was filled with rage. "We should¡¯ve killed that bitch earlier. We waited too long to act."


    With that, she stormed off to her room.


    William sighed. "What¡¯s happened is already done. We should focus on Jennifer¡¯s wedding. It¡¯s the only way we can keep the family in the upper ss."


    Jeanne nodded. "Yes. Once Jennifer marries into the Clifford family, we¡¯ll have a chance to turn everything around."


    William said, "Alright. I need a bath. Call the driver and tell him to bring the car back."


    With that, he walked into the bathroom. There was still a lot to do. And this marriage... it had to go perfectly.


    ***


    In the meantime, Jennifer was seething with anger in her room. After smashing a few decorative pieces, her mood calmed slightly. She sat down and began searching online for any news rted to Eleanor¡¯s kidnapping all those years ago.


    But no matter how long she searched, she couldn¡¯t find anything.


    Frustrated, she picked up her phone and called one of herckeys, Willow White.


    "Can you find any news rted to Eleanor¡¯s kidnapping and rape case?" she asked the moment Willow picked up.


    Willow was startled. She paused for a moment, then said, "I¡¯m not sure if any newspapers that old are even essible. Have you checked online?"


    Jennifer scoffed. "Do you think I¡¯d call you if I hadn¡¯t already checked? The news sites must¡¯ve deleted the articles. I called because your grandfather¡¯s a collector. Does he have any papers from back then?"


    Willow said, "Alright. I can try. But you could also check the libraries... they usually keep archives of national newspapers."


    Jennifer said, "Fine. I¡¯ll try that too. But please, help me with this. If you find anything, call me immediately."


    "Okay," said Willow, and ended the call.


    Jennifer then called several of her friends and asked them the same question. But no one could find any relevant news.


    Angrily, she threw her phone onto the bed andy down, her mind churning with thoughts... how to ruin Eleanor.


    ***


    In another room, William emerged from the bathroom after a long soak. He felt refreshed. At least now, he could think clearly.


    He was even more determined than before to give Jennifer thevish wedding she deserved.


    Holding his phone in his hand, he stared at it for a while. Then, he made a decision. He would call a business partner who had been buying EverBuild shares from the market.


    "As a business partner of EverBuild, he should already know. And if not, he¡¯ll know soon enough." William thought, as the call rang.


    "Hello, Mr Whitmore. What a pleasant surprise... you remembered me," came the voice from the other end.


    "Mr Sanders, you tter me," William replied smoothly. "Haven¡¯t seen you in a while. Is everything alright?"


    Mr Sanders said, "I¡¯m well. Just busy with business. I¡¯m really surprised to hear from you."


    William said, "Actually, I wanted to ask... are you still buying EverBuild shares?"


    Mr Sanders chuckled. "Yes. Are you going to give me some insider information?"


    William sighed. "I need to sell a portion of my holdings. If you¡¯re still buying, we can move forward."


    "I¡¯m interested," said Sanders. "But I¡¯ll only offer the current market price. How many shares are you nning to sell?"


    William leaned back. "The price will rise soon. You may not know, but EverBuild has just undergone a major change. Are you familiar with the Earl of Birmingham?"


    "Yes. He was in the news recently... Walter Langford. Elected to the House of Lords."


    "Then this will be easier to exin," William continued. "EverBuild¡¯s founder, Esmeralda Langford, belonged to that family. Today, the Langford family officially took over thepany. They¡¯ve even appointed famous Miss Francesca Walters as the new CEO."


    There was an audible gasp from the other end.


    William pressed on. "So tell me... how high do you think the share price will go when this news breaks? And remember... I¡¯m offering this information before it goes public."


    "Alright," Mr Sanders replied. "I¡¯ll offer you a 30% premium on ten percent of your shares."


    "I¡¯ll only sell five," William said. "I hold just over eight percent."


    "Please, don¡¯t haggle," Sanders said calmly. "As a thank you for the news, I¡¯ll go up to 40% above market. But I want all the shares you have. Trust me... this is the best price you¡¯ll get. Even if you wait a month."


    William was silent. He knew Sanders was telling the truth. Reluctantly, he agreed.


    "Fine. Have the funds ready by tomorrow morning. I¡¯lle to your office at ten."


    "It¡¯s a deal. I¡¯ll be waiting," Sanders said, before ending the call.


    William stared at the phone screen for a long time. Finally, he set it down beside him and closed his eyes, lying back on the bed.

 Chapter 174: The Kadan Island

    <h4>Chapter 174: The Kadan Ind</h4>


    Kadan Ind rises vast and unspoiled from the Andaman Sea, its forested spine stretching long and sinuous beneath the sky. The shoreline is a shifting boundary of pale sand and ck stone, where the tides draw delicate, scalloped patterns with every retreat, leaving behind trails of seashells and drift-polished coral. Along the western coast, limestone cliffs emerge from the jungle¡¯s edge... worn by centuries of salt and wind into towering forms, streaked with ochre and mossy green.


    The water surrounding the ind is a gradient of blues... near the shore, it is transparent turquoise, revealing a garden of coral and sea grass below; farther out, it deepens to sapphire and cobalt, falling away into silent abyss. Shoals of fish dart through the shallows, their scales shing silver and electric blue. asionally, the shadow of a manta ray drifts beneath the surface... slow, fluid, and vanishing as quietly as it came.


    Ind, the ind is draped in thick rainforest. Towering dipterocarp trees dominate the canopy, their trunks broad and columnar, rising straight toward the light. Vines dangle from their limbs like ropes spun from green silk, while bromeliads nest in branch crooks, blooming vivid reds and yellows. Beneath the high canopy, smaller trees and shrubspete in the dim, humid undergrowth... abyrinth of roots, ferns, orchids, and the soft rustle of unseen wings.


    Waterfalls descend from the hills in narrow silver ribbons, carving paths through moss-covered rock and feeding crystal-clear pools edged by smooth stone. The sound of falling water is constant but subdued, softened by the dense foliage that cloaks the ind from coast to summit. These streams snake down to mangrove-lined estuaries, where thend meets the sea in a tangle of roots, brackish channels, and mirrored reflections.


    Birds move through the canopy... hornbills with heavy wings, parrots shing emerald and scarlet, and tiny sunbirds flitting between blossoms. Butterflies rise from the forest floor in clouds of colour, hovering above sunlit clearings where deer graze among low shrubs.


    The terrain undtes, rising into steep ridges and narrow valleys. In the highest parts, the forest opens to rocky viewpoints, where lichen grows on stone and the wind carries the scent of salt. From here, one can see the ind¡¯s full shape... the curve of hidden bays, and the endless horizon where ocean and sky blend in perpetual motion.


    The air is warm and heavy with moisture, rich with the scent of earth, rain, and flowering nts. At night, bioluminescent nkton gather near the shoreline, glowing faintly in the gentle surge of waves. The sky clears to reveal constetions... reflected, shimmering, on the tide-washed sand.


    Hidden deep within the mountainous jungle of Kadan Ind, the Karen National Liberation Army, widely known as KNLA, maintains a low-profile base used as a resource hub, for coordination, and limited training. Surrounded by thick rainforest and shielded by steep ridgelines, the base is well-camouged, with makeshift structures built from local timber and thatch. A narrow footpath leads in from the coast, passable only on foot or motorbike in dry conditions.


    The base currently hosts around 50 to 60 personnel, including both seasoned fighters and new recruits. Supplies are limited, brought in periodically by the sea under the cover of night. Small-scale drills are held in a nearby clearing, but heavy weapons or live-fire training are avoided to minimise detection.


    Three elevated lookout posts are stationed in the surrounding hills, built into the tree line with basicmunication equipment. Sentinels rotate shifts, maintaining radio contact with the main base and scanning for aerial or maritime activity.


    Morale is steady but cautious. The ind¡¯s istion offers protection, but it also makes the base vulnerable to prolonged blockade or surveince. Communication with maind KNLAmands is intermittent, maintained via shortwave radio.


    Local support from Karen vigers on the southern coast remains quiet but consistent... mostly in the form of food, medicine, and guides familiar with the terrain. Norge civilian settlement exists nearby, but scattered clusters of families live along the jungle¡¯s edge... sympathetic and discreet.


    Saw Ghay Moo, themander of the base, is an intelligent man. The war prevented him from continuing formal education, but he has always sought knowledge... reading books, listening to foreign radio broadcasts, and learning on his own. Among KNLA ranks, he is the most proficient in English. For this reason, he was appointed tomand the Kadan base.


    At present, he was in his room, engrossed in a worn copy of The Naked and the Dead by Norman Mailer when the satellite radio crackled to life. A small bedside light was lit in the room at this time of night to facilitate his reading.


    "Contacting G M. Code Three Five Six Two. Are we clear?"


    A buzzing monotone followed.


    Ghay Moo immediately closed the book and sprang into action. He pressed a switch on the receiver... the buzz cut out.


    "G M speaking. Code Nine Seven Eight Four. All clear."


    The reply came swiftly.


    "Arriving at Three Five. I repeat, Three Five. Are we clear?"


    "Confirmed. Three Five. You may proceed."


    He clicked the switch again. The radio went silent.


    Ghay Moo¡¯s most critical duty was maintainingmunication with this mysterious group. They arrived once or twice a month... always under cover of night. No fixed schedule. Each time, KNLA cleared the dock and a designated perimeter. No lights were allowed. These people could operate in the darkest of nights. No one was permitted near the area during their arrival.


    From a distance, one could barely make out their ship and therge crates they carried. The crates were hauled into a hidden tunnel beneath the mountain at the center of the ind. In the dark, not even enhanced optics could see clearly.


    Once, a curious KNLA soldier tried to sneak closer and see what was happening. By morning, his beheaded body was found. Guards nearby hadn¡¯t heard a sound.


    The tunnel itself was a mystery. A massive boulder always blocked the entrance...pletely immovable. But when the group arrived, the rock slid open, revealing a shadowed passage. The men were ordered to stay away from it at all times. That was the base¡¯s unspoken rule.


    No one knew what went on inside that tunnel. But KNLA leadership had made it clear that this group was vital to their survival and they had to respect their instructions.


    When the visitors departed, they always left behind crates of arms, ammunition, dried food, and medicine at the dock. These supplies wereter sent to the maind in small, spread-out shipments.


    The top leaders confirmed that this group gave more than their prior agreement. And because of that, Ghay Moo¡¯s camp had been ordered to guard their activities with absolute loyalty.


    Ghay Moo picked up his camp radio and switched to themon channel.


    "To all KNLA soldiers. We have to clear the dock area within thirty minutes. I repeat... thirty minutes. Fall in at the parade ground in five."


    One by one, confirmations crackled back through the radio. Ghay Moo listened for a while, then set it back on the table.


    He began dressing in full uniform. He knew his soldiers were already preparing... even those sleeping would be up and ready within minutes. This drill had been rehearsed more times than he could count.


    Once fully dressed and armed, Ghay Moo stepped out of his room and found his soldiers standing in formation... three neat lines, weapons slung and eyes sharp.


    "Forty-eight soldiers ready for operation, sir," reported his Sergeant Major.


    "Good. You know the drill. Begin the operation," Ghay Moo said calmly.


    There was no need to give further instructions. The drill had been perfected over countless rehearsals. He simply followed the soldiers as they marched towards the dock.


    At this time of night, the dock was typically deserted. The soldiers checked every corner to ensure no one had lingered. Once confirmed, they moved several boats to the side, clearing a wide berth for the iing ship. Then they retreated to their designated posts.


    One by one, they took up position, weapons at the ready.


    From his elevated vantage point, Ghay Moo used his binocrs to scan the entire perimeter. Each soldier stood still, alert, eyes scanning the shadows. Satisfied, he reached out and switched off the dock¡¯s remaining lights.


    He returned to his position, perched above the dock... a small rise ofnd that offered full visibility of the operation zone.


    "Torches off. Report in," hemanded through the radio.


    "Position One, clear."


    "Position Two, clear."


    "Position Three, clear."


    ...


    "Position Forty-nine, clear."


    Ghay Moo heard each report and acknowledged them silently. By the time thest came through, the dock area had fallen intoplete darkness. Overhead, the sky was clear... no moon, only a nket of stars.


    Then came the low hum of a distant engine.


    It started as a faint vibration across the water, growing steadily louder. Soon, the silhouette of arge ship emerged from the sea¡¯s horizon, creeping silently into view. Ghay Moo looked at the ship, eyes focused. Their real task had just begun.


    ***


    On the ship, Robert called out from the deck.


    "We¡¯re docking now! Everyone will have to move fast. The supply isrge this time."


    A few people on the deck looked at him. Severalrge werewolves were lyingzily on the floor, slowly transforming into their human forms. Robert nced at them and counted silently... fifteen in total.


    There was a slight jolt as the ship swayed gently. It had docked.


    Robert opened the main hatch and stepped onto the forward tform. He grabbed thending stair and set it against the dock.


    "Let¡¯s move. Bring the supplies."


    One by one, the fifteen crew members filed out, each carrying arge, ck box. They stacked them neatly on the dock before returning for more. Box after box appeared... silent, precise, and disciplined.


    Once the entire shipment had been ced on the dock, they began carrying them toward the tunnel entrance. All the boxes were ced in a pile near the base of the giant stone boulder that blocked the tunnel.


    Then, four of them stepped forward. With unnatural ease, they pushed the boulder aside. A narrow, dark tunnel mouth came into view.


    They carried the boxes inside, stacking them on one side. On the other side of the tunnel, identical boxes were previously prepared.


    From the darkness of the tunnel, a group of men emerged and began transfering the new boxes deep into the tunnel. They all were d in white dresses that looked like some type ofb coat. One of them approached Robert directly.


    "Robert. Always good to see you. Looks like you brought arger supply this time?"


    Robert nodded. "Good to see you still breathing, Edward. Eighty-six. How many to return?"


    "Fifty-three."


    "There¡¯s a change this time," Robert said. "Boss had sent someone to take over the facility."


    Edward frowned. "What? Did we mess something up?"


    "No. Boss just wanted me to inform you that she won¡¯t being personally. She¡¯s sending her recement."


    "I don¡¯t understand..."


    Robert gave him a half-smile. "Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll understand when you see her."


    He turned away, ending the conversation. With no further words, he walked back to the stack of old boxes and picked up two... as if they weighed nothing.


    He returned to the ship and ced them on the deck. Then, he headed up the stairs toward the cabins.


    At the door behind the captain¡¯s cabin, he knocked twice.


    "Miss Nora, it¡¯s time."

 Chapter 175: Inside the Underground Laboratory

    <h4>Chapter 175: Inside the Underground Laboratory</h4>


    In the cabin, Nora sat cross-legged on the bed, motionless, as if meditating. She had remained in that position since entering the cabin hours ago, without the slightest movement. She wore a ck tracksuit, the hood pulled low to cast her face in shadow. Only her pale chin and thin lips were visible beneath the fold of fabric.


    Upon hearing Robert¡¯s knock and voice, she finally moved. She slid off the bed and adjusted her posture. Even in the ind¡¯s humid, sweltering air, she wore gloves and made no attempt to remove them. A pair of ck running shoes covered her feet, silent with each step.


    She opened the cabin door and descended the stairwell without a word. Robert followed closely behind, never daring to guide her... as he felt that she needed no directions.


    As they reached the tunnel entrance, Robert finally spoke.


    "Edward, this is Miss Nora. From now on, she has the final say here. Don¡¯t waste time with pleasantries... she only cares about the work."


    Edward gave a slight bow. "Understood. Wee, Miss Nora."


    Nora said nothing. She gave a small nod, which was barely perceptible.


    All Edward could see was her unnaturally white chin and lips. The rest of her body was concealed... no skin exposed, not even her hands.


    Robert looked around. "Seems the empty boxes were cleared already. I¡¯ll take my leave then. Edward, see you next time."


    With that, he turned and left the tunnel.


    Outside, four of his subordinates were already waiting. Robert gave a single nod, and they immediately pushed the massive boulder back into ce, sealing the tunnel entrance.


    They gathered the remaining boxes and carried them back to the ship.


    Shortly after, the deck rumbled with the vibration of the engines. The ship pulled away from the dock in silence and slowly vanished into the dark horizon.


    Even after the ship had fully disappeared from sight, Ghay Moo waited another ten minutes before issuing the nextmand.


    He turned on his radio. "Soldiers. Move to the dock."


    Quietly, he and his men emerged from the jungle shadows and made their way to the now-empty dock. There, twentyrge boxes waited for them.


    They lit their torches and began opening the boxes one by one.


    Five were filled with firearms. Three held ammunition. One was filled with grenades. The rest contained dried food and essential medicines.


    His team counted and logged every item with care.


    By the time they had finished their inventory, the first light was touching the horizon with a gentle stroke... like a painter brushing gold across a sleeping canvas. Over the quiet ind, shadows retreated, giving way to shimmering hues... like a dream remembered.


    Golden light bled softly into the jade canopy, each leaf catching the warmth like a secret held close. Along the sandy crescent of shoreline, gleaming specks emerged where moonlight once lingered... now reced by a delicate fire dancing across the waves.


    Coconut palms bowed as though in reverence. In the tidal shallows, the water turned to ss, mirroring the sky¡¯s gentle blush... rose gold, powdered peach, and the faintest blue of waking rity. The air shimmered,ced with the scent of salt and blooming champaca, while the hush of early birds swept low over stillgoons.


    Ghay Moo looked longingly across the ind. For a fleeting moment, it felt untouched by time... suspended in the grace of first light.


    He pulled out his radio and began reporting the contents of the delivery to his superior.


    ***


    Far away, in a KNLA outpost deep within the dense and humid jungles of eastern Myanmar, where rivers cut through hills like silent knives, and mist lingers long after dawn, his superior received the report with a wide smile.


    This supply was desperately needed. They had recently lost ground, pushed back in several regions. These new weapons and medical supplies could hold the line for some time.


    Their Karen National Liberation Army was not an army of conquest, but a force rooted in the soil it bled for. Its fighters were born under the weight of a promise: that the Karen people would one day live free, sovereign and unbroken.


    From their scattered positions... hidden on mountain ridges, buried under forest canopies, tucked in ravines where no road could reach, the KNLA fights a war of survival and resistance. On official maps, their bases barely exist. But on the ground, they are lifelines: dugouts, bunkers, jungle tents, training fields, and watchposts. All guarded by men and women who have lived their entire lives breathing this wet jungle air, listening for the distant hum of helicopter rotors.


    Across Myanmar, thend burns under the rule of the Tatmadaw, the military junta... armed with jet fighters, attack helicopters, and decades of brutal suppression. The KNLA knows the scent of ash from torched viges, the hollowed-out remains of schools turned to craters. Their enemy flies above them. Their defiance is met with fire.


    The KNLA has no radar. No anti-aircraft guns. No missiles. Only the trees, caves, fog, and night.


    Their strength lies not in machines... but in their bond with the terrain, their discipline, and their inherited pain. KNLA fighters move like ghosts through the green,ying ambushes, disabling bridges, vanishing before counterstrikesnd. Some bases hold around fifty fighters. Others far fewer. But across the jungles, hills, and rivers... thousands are ready, hidden in in sight.


    Their outposts are simple. Bamboo huts on stilts, sandbagged perimeters, and radios powered by petrol generators. Watchtowers rise along the ridgelines, manned in silence, scanning the skies for any sh of movement. Their lines ofmunication are fragile but still active. Radio chatter connects them to allied units: the People¡¯s Defence Forces, the Kachin Independence Army, and others who... for the first time in decades... have begun to share the burden of resistance.


    But their most trusted allies are not the fellow fighters... they are the vigers. Whole families living in the forest, moving camp to camp, bringing food, medicine, and information. They are the hidden veins through which this rebellion breathes.


    Their war is no longer just for independence. It is now a war for the foundation of a federal Myanmar, where the Karen and all other peoples of the hills and ins can speak their ownnguages, keep their ancestralnds, and never again be forced to bow at gunpoint before a central army. The vision has evolved: from secession to shared sovereignty. Not a breakaway, but a rebuilding.


    Still, the KNLA was outgunned. Hope alone cannot win wars. That¡¯s why this new batch of weapons felt like a gentle breeze stirring in themander¡¯s chest... a momentary relief, but not enough.


    ***


    Far beneath Kadan Ind, hidden deep within the mountain, Nora walked silently through the underground facility.


    The space resembled a sprawlingboratoryplex, alive with quiet urgency. Scientists moved between terminals, checking screens, adjusting equipment, working in silence or murmuring beneath their breath.


    Nora had descended to this level via a crude lift, fashioned from industrial scaffolding and steel cabling. Now she moved like a phantom... her ck, hooded tracksuit concealing every inch of her body. Gloves covered her hands. Her face remained hidden beneath the hood, revealing only the faint gleam of her pale lips and chin.


    Sometimes, she paused to inspect a monitor. At other times, she simply observed the scientists at work. Her gaze lingered... intense but silent. No one dared speak to her.


    Afterpleting her sweep of theboratory floor, she entered the server room. Here, she moved slowly, meticulously, inspecting each cooling unit, every blinking indicator light, every rack of data hardware.


    When she hadpleted her circuit, she spoke for the first time:


    "Subjects must be downstairs. Please lead the way."


    Her voice was soft. Soothing. It drifted across the room like mist over water... impossibly calm, almost melodic.


    Edward, who had been trailing her the entire time, suddenly froze. It was the first time he had heard her speak. Something about her voice unsettled him... not in volume or tone, but in its stillness. It was too smooth, too perfect.


    He quickly regained hisposure. "Y...Yes. This way, please."


    He led her down the stairwell to the level below.


    This floor was very different from the one above. It was one massive room, supported by thick concrete pirs. No partitions but arge room. Row after row of vertical cylinders, each one about the height of a man and filled with translucent green fluid, came into her view.


    Nora followed silently.


    She stepped toward the first cylinder and stared through the ss. A man floated inside...pletely naked, suspended in the liquid. His head was encased in a metallic helmet, from which several thick tubes emerged, connected to a nearby machine. Other tubes ran into his spine. His limbs twitched slightly, as if reacting to something within the liquid... or far beyond it.


    The machine beside him flickered with graphs, biometric readings, neural scan data, and cryptic error codes.


    Nora stepped closer, opened the keyboard panel on the machine, and began typing a sequence ofmands.


    The man¡¯s body jolted. Once. Twice. Spasms rippled down his limbs.


    The monitor¡¯s disy red with warnings... numbers spiking, colours shifting. The machine beeped violently.


    Then... all fell into silence.


    Nora stopped typing and stepped back. "Useless. Please discard this subject."


    Her tone was t. Either showing indifference to the body she probably just killed, or to all living beings.


    She slowly walked toward the next cylinder.


    Edward flinched. "Are you certain? These death row criminals were acquired by paying handsomely for each one. Every subject is a..."


    "Useless," she repeated. "I have no use for that subject."


    She began the same process. Typed a series ofmand strings. Watched the readings. Observed closely and then moved on.


    Edward was relieved not to hear the same order.


    She repeated the same process with the next subject and said, "Useless. Please discard this subject."

 Chapter 176: James and Jennifer’s Marriage Ceremony

    <h4>Chapter 176: James and Jennifer¡¯s Marriage Ceremony</h4>


    The news of James and Jennifer¡¯s wedding had already gone viral across the inte. Although it didn¡¯t ripple globally, it had certainly reached every corner of the local upper circles. While the Whitmore family remained a second-rate name among Manchester¡¯s elite, the Clifford family was undeniably part of the first tier.


    Because the wedding had been arranged shortly after William Whitmore¡¯s removal from EverBuild, it remained under the radar until now. At Eleanor¡¯s request, thepany had yet to publish any official announcement regarding the leadership change. The shareholders, now aware of this insider shift, were increasingly alert... watching thepany¡¯s rising stock price with hungry anticipation.


    The venue was none other than Hotel Hyatt¡¯srgest convention hall. The programme had been finalised in advance, with the schedule printed on each guest¡¯s invitation. Attendees were strictly instructed to bring their invitation cards for entry.


    William spared no expense in ensuring his daughter¡¯s marriage was as grand as possible. Having sold his shares of thepany, he now had ample funds to spare. He believed that this union between the Whitmore and Clifford families would eventually repay him manifold.


    That evening, most of the city¡¯s upper echelon began gathering at the Hyatt... though some of the most prominent families were absent, as William could not reach them in his status. Still, even those who declined the invite often sent a representative from the second generation.


    It wasmon knowledge that wealthy families encouraged their heirs to form alliances through marriage. Love had little space in such unions. Wives remained at home while lovers existed freely outside. Only a rare few valued love above wealth... and they could be counted on one hand.


    Events like this were a hunting ground for the second generation of the elite. Many sought potential partners, evaluating them through a lens not of affection, but of advantage.


    The unspoken rule, however, still held strong: marry equal or higher. Status came first, looks second. What value were beauty and charm without power or profit? In the end, money was god.


    At 7PM, both James and Jennifer were ready. But for the moment, they waited inside the presidential suites booked especially for them. Guests were still arriving, and a few important names had yet to appear.


    Earlier that day, they had already officially registered their marriage... the ceremony now just a formality.


    James wore a sharp white suit that highlighted his tanned skin and athletic build. He was in high spirits,ughing and gossiping with his friends.


    Jennifer wore a custom Vivienne Westwood wedding gown...missioned specially for the event. William had paid a small fortune for it. With her make-up perfected by a professional team, she looked ethereal... elegant, radiant, and graceful. Several of her friends were in the suite, acting as bridesmaids and showering her with praise.


    Downstairs, William and Jeanne stood at the entrance, personally receiving each guest.


    The hall was quickly filling with an eclectic mix of business magnates, entertainers, political aides, and wealthy heirs... all mingling with practiced poise, seeking connections and advantage.


    Some single men and women were already striking up conversations with their targets, navigating the social waters carefully.


    Throughout the grand hall, voices murmured with gossip:


    "Look, that¡¯s Ross Taylor. His father is a senior official in government, and his mother is from the Norwood family."


    "Is he important? I saw some of the wealthy girls checking him out."


    "Very important. The Norwoods were a second-rate family until his father¡¯s influence boosted their position."


    "That¡¯s Dan Martin. Thirty-one this year. I heard he just broke up with his girlfriend. He runs apany worth over a billion. He¡¯s technically single, you know."


    "A good catch. But it will be hard to get. Look at the annoying Norman sisters around him."


    "There¡¯s Robin Greystone. Thirty-five years old. He is dating a middle-ss girl, but his family doesn¡¯t approve. He also doesn¡¯t marry others."


    "Poor girl. No way the Greystones will allow that marriage."


    "That¡¯s Miss Thompson, just back from the US a few months ago. She¡¯s now a director at her family firm."


    "Don¡¯t get excited. She¡¯s a lesbian."


    "Tsk. A loss to mankind. Just look at those curves."


    "You pervert. Look at Young Master Davis. He never stares at any woman¡¯s bosom, alwaysposed. Everyone knows him as a true gentleman."


    "h h. Don¡¯t shame a man for admiring protruding mountains when they¡¯re in front of him."


    Amid the murmuring and flirtations, business conversations hummed just as fiercely:


    "Mr Hond, what a pleasure. I was just thinking of visiting you next week. My firm applied for the stadium reconstruction contract. I believe yours did too. If you let us have the contract, I will be grateful to you."


    "I¡¯ve heard of your financial struggles. What¡¯s in it for me if I back off?"


    "Remember my vi near the airport... you visitedst year? It¡¯ll be yours on your next birthday as a present from me."


    "Not enough. Add a favour to that."


    "Done. Thank you."


    Deals were made behind champagne sses and veiled smiles. This wasn¡¯t just a wedding... it was a marketce of privilege, power, and quiet promises.


    At that moment, a suddenmotion stirred near the entrance. All eyes turned in that direction. The groom had arrived.


    James Clifford was visibly basking in the attention. This was, without question, the moment of his life. From the very gates of the venue, he began greeting and exchanging words with several key figures of Manchester¡¯s upper circles... people who ordinarily would never give him so much as a private appointment.


    Though James hailed from the prestigious Clifford family, and was well-regarded socially, he remained part of the second generation. The real authority in the family rested with his uncle, and among his peers, it was his elder brothers who had long held the spotlight.


    Only recently had James gained some measure of influence...rgely due to his association with the Chen family, particrly Benjamin Chen, the celebrated CEO of Chen IT.


    Benjamin was present today as James¡¯s best man, but he remained tactfully in the background. He knew how to read a room. Instead of drawing attention to himself, he redirected praise and conversation toward James, ensuring his friend enjoyed the spotlight on this pivotal day.


    Alongside them trailed their usual circle of young masters... all well-groomed, well-dressed, and visibly content to help give James a wless wedding celebration.


    Slowly, the group made their way towards the stage, exchanging pleasantries as they passed through clusters of guests. Many who had not yet had a chance to speak with James hurried to greet him near the stairs, eager to be seen and remembered.


    A few minutester, another wave of murmuring rippled through the hall... this time more hushed, more reverent.


    Nichs Clifford, the patriarch of the Clifford family, had arrived.


    At his side walked Phoebe Baker, James¡¯s mother. With James¡¯s father having passed away early, Nichs had taken his grandson¡¯s wedding to heart. He had vowed to be present not just for the family, but as a way to honour histe son.


    Behind them walked Jonathon Clifford, the current head of the family, along with his son Jacob, and several other core family members.


    The crowd parted with instinctive respect as the Clifford family entered. Heads bowed in greeting, and whispered conversations paused momentarily. Very few in the hall could match the power or wealth that the Clifford name carried.


    As the group approached the stage, the young masters stepped forward swiftly, offering respectful greetings. Nichs gave them a brief nod, but he paused when he saw Benjamin. The two exchanged a few polite words... Nichs was clearly pleased to see him present.


    Then, Nichs, Phoebe, and James stepped up onto the stage.


    Just as they did, the bride made her entrance.


    Jennifer Whitmore entered arm-in-arm with William and Jeanne, nked by her beautiful bridesmaids. All heads turned again... this time with genuine admiration.


    Jennifer, in her flowing Vivienne Westwood gown, looked utterly ethereal. The expert hands of the stylists had elevated her beauty to its peak. Even her harshest critics would have to admit that tonight, she was breathtaking.


    As the group approached the stage, they moved at a stately pace. Most of the guests had already greeted William earlier, so the path was clear.


    When they reached the steps, James stepped forward and took Jennifer¡¯s hand, guiding her up the stairs like a perfect gentleman.


    This graceful gesture caught the attention of the crowd. A quiet ripple of approval followed.


    "Look at him. He is so gentle with her."


    "Such a refined young man. I want my man like this."


    "The Clifford family really raised him well."


    Some of thesepliments floated all the way up to Nichs¡¯s ears. Hearing them, the old man¡¯s chest swelled with pride. His grandson was not only a partner of Chen Group, but was now praised by the city¡¯s most elite gatherings.


    Below the stage, however, Jacob Clifford watched with a restrained scowl. He muttered under his breath, irritated at the naivety of the onlookers. He knew exactly how many women James had entertained over the years.


    Just as he was about to mutter louder, his father Jonathon firmly gripped his arm and gave him a warning look.


    Jacob clenched his jaw and said no more.

 Chapter 177: Explicit Photos

    <h4>Chapter 177: Explicit Photos</h4>


    A deep,posed voice echoed from the sound system. The Ceremony Host behind the microphone remained unseen, but his presence filled the garden with calm authority.


    "Ladies and gentlemen, wee," he said, his tone warm yet ceremonial.


    "Today, we gather not just to witness the marriage ceremony of James Clifford and Jennifer Whitmore, but to celebrate a new journey of their life. On behalf of both the Whitmore and Clifford families, I wee you all."


    The crowd cheered in response to the host¡¯s wee. On the stage, James and Jennifer were holding hands, smiling cheerfully. Beside them stood their respective family members, each wearing a happy expression, perfectly in ce for the asion.


    Among the invited guests, one particr couple stood out... not because they were enjoying the moment, but because they were visibly tense. Grayson Marsh and his wife Florence Mitchell were waiting for the right moment to carry out a mission they had been entrusted with. Every passing second weighed on them like a ticking clock.


    The host continued, with the same calm enthusiasm.


    "I¡¯m happy to announce that earlier today, both of them were married legally. And now, they will share their happiness of being together with you all."


    A fresh round of apuse echoed in the hall. Everyone looked pleased, and James gave Jennifer a loving smile, which she returned with elegance.


    "Many of you know," the host added, "that our groom and bride have been in love since their school days. That bond hasn¡¯t faded with time... rather, their rtionship has be a sess story with this union."


    There was a soft hum of approval across the hall, with some guests smiling to themselves as they imagined suchsting love in today¡¯s time.


    After a slight pause, the host¡¯s voice resumed.


    "Now, we¡¯ll take a moment to witness some of the loving memories shared by our bride and groom over the years."


    Behind the stage, arge white screen slid down smoothly. On the stage, the couple and their families stepped slightly to the side, allowing everyone an unobstructed view.


    Then, slowly, the screen lit up. One by one, photos of James and Jennifer appeared.


    It began from their school days... photos taken at ss events, school pics, birthdays, social gatherings. The projection moved forward with time, showing them holidaying in different countries, dining together,ughing with friends, and exchanging gifts. These were photos carefully curated to present a timeline of shared love.


    What most of the guests didn¡¯t know was that during their school years, James had been in a rtionship with Eleanor. But so many years had passed, and Eleanor had vanished from the public eye so long ago, that only a handful of people remembered the past. And those who did had no intention of bringing it up on this particr day. As far as everyone was concerned, Eleanor was gone from this world.


    All around the grand hall, guests watched the screen and sighed in admiration.


    "Look at how long they¡¯ve been together," one guest murmured to her friend. "You hardly see rtionshipsst like that anymore. Even marriages don¡¯t survive."


    "This is what real love looks like," anothermented. "I envy Jennifer. She found her perfect man. My boyfriend cheated on me within six months."


    "They¡¯re the perfect couple in my eyes. Just look at them!"


    "That photo... he¡¯s looking at her like she¡¯s the only one in the world. That¡¯s what I want at my wedding."


    "They make such a lovely pair."


    "Made for each other. I hope their children inherit those looks."


    "See that shot by theke? I want to do a couple shoot just like that with my boyfriend."


    From the back of the room, Grayson Marsh reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and slowly pulled out a small device. His thumb found the ridged button in the middle.


    He hesitated for just a second. Then he pressed it.


    What would happen next was no longer his concern. His only thought now was to leave the venue with his wife at the first chance.


    Within seconds, a soft vibration buzzed across the entire hall. It came from handbags, suit pockets, clutch purses and mobile phones. Nearly every guest, from executives to celebrities to socialites, felt their mobile vibrate in unison.


    Most of the guests assumed it was a harmless message or app notification. After all, their personal contact details weren¡¯t easily avable to outsiders. Still, the sheer volume of people receiving something at the exact same moment was uncanny.


    A few curious guests checked their phones immediately. The rest ignored the buzz for the moment, still focused on the glowing screen up front.


    Those who opened their messages found something strange. They had received a folder.


    Among those who discovered the folder, only a handful chose to check its contents immediately. The rest decided to look into itter.


    But as soon as a few guests opened the folder and began scrolling through the images, a wave of shock rippled through the room. Disbelief was etched across their faces, and some even gasped aloud.


    Noticing their reactions, others nearby grew curious and peeked at their screens... only to be equally stunned.


    Once it became clear that the shocking images were inside the newly received folder, people quickly grabbed their phones and began checking it for themselves.


    The folder was filled with explicit photos of James and Jennifer engaging in sexual acts with various men and women. Although the image quality wasn¡¯t the best, their faces were clearly recognizable. It was obvious the photos had been captured using hidden cameras.


    In several pictures, James was seen having sex with multiple women at once.


    Jennifer wasn¡¯t far behind... in one series of photos, she was engaged in sexual activities with three men at the same time. Coincidentally, all three of them were present in the hall. When they spotted themselves in the images, they immediately tried to hide their faces.


    Gasps began to echo through the crowd.


    People exchanged phones, raised eyebrows, and stared wide-eyed at their screens. Those who hadn¡¯t checked their phones yet began to reach for them, suddenly curious.


    In less than a minute, the atmosphere of the hall shifted.


    What had been admiration turned into stunned disbelief. Then, like ripples in ake, the scandal began to spread.


    Even the typicallyposed Young Master Davis gave in to curiosity and unlocked his phone.


    At one corner of the room, Dan Martin leaned toward Robin Greystone, whispering as he held up his phone.


    "Hey Robin... look at this. Aren¡¯t those three guys standing there in the corner?"


    "Brother Dan! Keep your voice down," Robin whispered. "Can¡¯t you see they¡¯re trying to escape from here?"


    "Alright, alright. I just got curious."


    But it was already toote.


    Others nearby had overheard and nced toward the group Dan pointed out. Everyone recognised them from photos. Smirks and awkward coughs followed.


    All eyes began tond on those three men.


    Their faces turned pale. Humiliation washed over them as more and more guests turned to look. They understood that their faces had been seen, and soon, their names would follow.


    Without waiting for more, the trio bolted toward the exit, trying not to break into a full run.


    On the stage, James and Jennifer remained blissfully unaware, still smiling and holding hands as their photo montage flickered behind them.


    But below them, chaos brewed like a storm waiting to break.


    Hearing the murmurs from the side, Miss Thompson reached into her clutch and took out her phone. As expected, there was a notification of a received folder. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened it.


    Her breath caught instantly, and colour rushed to her face. It wasn¡¯t embarrassment alone... it was shock, disbelief, and something else she couldn¡¯t quite name. The red that crept up her cheeks made her look even more alluring, though this was hardly the moment for admiration.


    Hurriedly, she tucked the phone back into her purse and nced around with forcedposure, as though nothing had happened. Her expression was unreadable, but the blush hadn¡¯t yet faded.


    Meanwhile, below the stage, members of the Clifford family remained oblivious for a few more minutes. They were ustomed to phones buzzing with notifications, messages from corporate circles or political allies. At first, they didn¡¯t pay any attention to the vibrations... they had a marriage ceremony to focus on.


    But the mood among the guests was shifting, subtly but unmistakably.


    It was Jonathon Clifford, the current head of the family, who noticed it first. Ever watchful, he caught the movement among the crowd... they were checking their phones.


    He reached into his jacket, took out his phone, and checked.


    His eyes widened as the screen in front of him disyed the folder, already opened.


    He didn¡¯t say a word at first. Instead, he turned slightly and looked to his son, Jacob Clifford, who was just beside him... still grumbling silently to himself, annoyed by the praise beingvished upon James.


    "Jacob," Jonathon said, patting his son¡¯s shoulder. "Check your phone."


    Jacob frowned. "What is it?" he asked, still sounding sour.


    "Just check." Themand was crisp and final.


    With a quiet sigh, Jacob pulled out his phone and unlocked it. The screen showed a single notification... one new folder. He tapped.


    "Dad... is this real?" His voice was shaky, his disbelief evident.


    "Yes," Jonathon replied, keeping his tone low and steady. "I told you not to act rashly. Just wait. And now... look. With this... James will fall. And we didn¡¯t even have to lift a finger."


    He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only Jacob could hear.


    "Put your phone away. Wait. When the timees, support your grandfather. He¡¯ll be furious. You must be the one who calms him down and takes him home. Be smart. This is your chance to shine."


    Without waiting for a response, Jonathon Clifford began walking slowly toward the stage, his expression unreadable, but his mind sharp, calcting every move like a chessboard.

 Chapter 178: Clifford Way of Handling Situations

    <h4>Chapter 178: Clifford Way of Handling Situations</h4>


    Nearby members of the Clifford family had no inkling of what was unfolding. Positioned at the front rows, they couldn¡¯t see the shifting tide behind them. Though they noticed Jonathon whispering to Jacob, followed by his walk toward the stage, no one thought much of it. They assumed it was business as usual.


    On the stage, Nichs Clifford stood watching the slideshow... a carefully curated series of photographs that chronicled James and Jennifer¡¯s shared memories. He was visibly pleased. The pictures showed a pair deeply in love...ughing in their school uniforms, walking hand-in-hand in their teenage years, celebrating birthdays, graduation. To him, it was a love story.


    Nichs had married the woman chosen for him by his family. But, against all odds, he had loved her deeply. He had never once betrayed her, not in word nor in deed. Even after her death, he had remained devoted. His life, and even much of his sess in business, he often attributed to the peace and strength she had given him.


    So, when James chose to marry for love... even if that love came from a second-rate family, Nichs had been quietly supportive. The Whitmore name didn¡¯t concern him. What mattered was that his grandson had chosen sincerely.


    And with a great-grandchild on the way, it was, to him, the beginning of a new Chapter... a happy one.


    But Jonathon¡¯s sudden approach unsettled him.


    "Dad," Jonathon said in a voice that those near them could hear, his face unusually tense, "there¡¯s a problem with one of our recent contracts. I need your immediate guidance. Could you pleasee to the side for a moment?"


    Nichs turned to look at his eldest son. He saw the urgency in his eyes. Though reluctant to miss the final slides, he nodded and followed Jonathon to the far end of the stage, away from the guests¡¯ view and earshot.


    There, Jonathon turned to him and spoke in a hushed but deliberate tone.


    "Father... I know this will sound melodramatic, but I beg you to promise me something first."


    Nichs¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "What is it?"


    "Whatever I¡¯m about to show you... no matter how furious you feel, no matter whates to mind... you must not react here. Not in front of all these people. Not at this event. We¡¯ll deal with it at home. Calmly. Quietly. I need your word on that."


    A frown tugged at Nichs¡¯s face. There was irritation, clearly. But after a long pause, he finally gave a slight nod.


    "Very well. Speak."


    Jonathon had been prepared. He pulled out his phone and swiped swiftly through the images. He showed a series of mid-folder photos... explicit images of James with multiple women. Faces were visible. Context unmistakable.


    "These were just sent to every guest," Jonathon said grimly. "Check the crowd... they¡¯re not watching the screen anymore. They¡¯re all on their phones."


    Nichs followed his son¡¯s gaze and saw the guests showing each other their screens and discussing in a hushed voice.


    "That¡¯s not the worst of it," Jonathon continued. "Yes, James has clearly been cheating, but we could¡¯ve dealt with that privately. Disciplined him after marriage. But this..."


    He swiped again, showing the explicit images of Jennifer Whitmore, entangled with various men.


    "This is the bride with other men? We have to think about the baby... we can¡¯t confirm it¡¯s James¡¯s. And even if a DNA test says so, who will believe it? Everyone will think we faked it to cover the scandal."


    Nichs¡¯s entire face had changed colour. Rage surged just behind his calm facade. The betrayal... the humiliation... all ying out in front of Manchester¡¯s most influential families.


    Jonathon stepped closer and said, "Please, Dad... hold it in. You are Nichs Clifford. The entire hall is watching. Let me handle the damage. I suggest we end the ceremony quietly. Walk away. I¡¯ll clean the mess."


    Nichs clenched his fists. He looked as though he might erupt like a volcano straining against its crust. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight. But in the end, he spat out a singlemand:


    "Handle the mess."


    With that, he turned and walked down the stage steps, his posture rigid, his expression thunderous.


    Jonathon immediately followed. As Nichs made his way through the crowd, a low ripple of attention followed him. Jacob, having understood the signal from his father, quickly strode forward and walked beside his grandfather, offering quiet support. Other Clifford family members, alerted by Jonathon¡¯s silent gesture, joined them and followed the patriarch out of the hall without question.


    Meanwhile, back on the stage, James was confused and anxious. He had seen his grandfather walking away and had rushed down the steps to find out what was going on.


    "First Uncle, where¡¯s Grandpa going?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.


    Jonathon barely paused and said, "Check your phone."


    That was all he said before ascending the stage and turning to face the restless crowd. Seeing the head of the Clifford family looking at them, the murmurs quieted and they looked at him in attention.


    "Ladies and gentlemen," Jonathon spoke clearly, voice authoritative, "on behalf of the Clifford family, I must apologise. One of our senior family members has suddenly fallen ill. So, we are forced to leave the ceremony."


    There were whispers, awkward exchanges of nces.


    "Please enjoy the dinner. The Clifford family will, of course, bear all expenses for tonight¡¯s arrangements. Thank you for joining us today... we will issue another invitation soon."


    With that, he offered a brief nod and stepped down. His face remainedposed, but inside, he was already calcting how best to redirect the fallout.


    The guests understood immediately. The wedding was off. Some of them began to quietly leave, slipping away as though they hadn¡¯t seen the photos. Others lingered to gossip, eyes bright with scandal.


    Near the exit, Grayson Marsh and Florence Mitchell were already walking briskly toward the car park. They didn¡¯t stop to gossip like others. Their part in the night¡¯s disruption was done... and now, they needed to disappear before anyone asked the wrong questions.


    ***


    While the guests whispered and stared at their phones in mounting disbelief, James and Jennifer remained blissfully unaware. They were still immersed in the warm nostalgia evoked by the slideshow... holding hands, smiling, reminiscing about their youthful romance as images of school trips, birthdays, and seaside holidays flickered past.


    Beside them, Phoebe stood silently next to Nichs, her expressionposed. On the opposite side, William and Jeanne sped hands, watching the disy with gentle smiles. To them, this was the crowning moment of their children¡¯s journey... the culmination of love, honour, and social triumph.


    But when Jonathon stepped onto the stage and discreetly ushered Nichs aside, the first hints of tension crept in. Phoebe¡¯s brow furrowed slightly, sensing something was off.


    James noticed too.


    He¡¯d always known Jonathon resented him... especially since James had gained favour with his grandfather. Jonathon had long hoped his son, Jacob, would inherit the family mantle. Seeing the shift in Nichs¡¯s expression after Jonathon whispered to him, James¡¯s stomach turned cold.


    He turned to look at his friends for answers, but they were all frantically pointing at their phones. James didn¡¯t understand. His own phone had been left with Benjamin Chen, his best man, so that he could focus on the ceremony.


    On Jennifer¡¯s side, she too sensed the oddity in the air. She¡¯d left her mobile in the presidential suite, and now Willow White and her other bridesmaids were holding up their phones, clearly distressed and pointing at her.


    "Why are they staring like that? What¡¯s happening?"


    Before James could make sense of it all, he caught sight of Nichs walking out of the hall with a thunderous face. The other members of the Clifford family promptly followed.


    "Grandpa?" James called out.


    But they walked out as if they didn¡¯t hear him. No one stopped. No one turned. They left him there, abandoned mid-ceremony, surrounded by murmuring guests and cameras.


    As Jonathon climbed the stage again, James tried to ask him about the situation... only to be ignored. Jonathon made his curt announcement and exited the hall without sparing his nephew a nce.


    A momentter, Benjamin stepped beside James and handed him the phone.


    "James... I think you need to see this."


    He opened the folder, swiped through a few images, then handed it to James. The screen showed explicit photos... James himself, in bed with various women. His face was clearly visible.


    James stared at the screen. His mind wentpletely nk. He couldn¡¯t think or speak. He didn¡¯t even blink.


    His friends gathered beside him, watching as the colour drained from his face.


    Meanwhile, Phoebe, sharp-eyed and attuned to social atmosphere, had also pulled her phone from her purse. She, too, found the mysterious folder. She opened the first photo.


    It was Jennifer... naked, tangled with a man not her son.


    Phoebe¡¯s jaw clenched. Her face turned crimson with fury. Without warning, she strode forward. In full view of the crowd, she pped Jennifer hard across the face.


    The sound cracked through the air like a gunshot. Gasps spread through the hall. Heads turned. Conversations died mid-whisper. Eyes widened.


    "You filthy bitch!" Phoebe barked. "What the hell were you doing behind my son¡¯s back, you whore!"


    She shoved the phone in front of Jennifer¡¯s stunned face. The screen showed the damning photo.

 Chapter 179: Whitmore–Clifford Scandal

    <h4>Chapter 179: Whitmore¨CClifford Scandal</h4>


    The moment Jennifer saw the photo thrust before her, she knew it was over. She couldn¡¯tprehend how such an intimate moment had ended up on Phoebe¡¯s phone. But she knew more than anyone else that the photo was real.


    Her knees buckled, her heartbeat thundered in her ears, her vision blurred, and her mind fell into a void. Jennifer copsed, her limbs folding beneath the weight of horror and disbelief.


    Seeing this, Jeanne rushed forward. She had already glimpsed some of the photos and heard some of the whispers among guests. She saw phones glowing like fireflies of judgement. Her heart was also pounding, but maternal instinct drove her forward.


    Before she could catch Jennifer, her daughter had already slumped to the floor in her flowing white gown, her consciousness slipping away.


    "What are you doing, sister?" Jeanne shouted, her voice shrill and breaking. "How could you hit my daughter like that? Your son is no angel either! Did you even look at all the photos?"


    Phoebe, breathing heavily, turned towards Jeanne, startled. "Photos?" she echoed, momentarily confused.


    She fumbled for her phone and began swiping through the folder. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat. There were dozens of explicit images of James, with various women. Some scenes were undeniably shocking.


    Her anger faltered as guilt washed over her. She looked again at Jeanne, who was now cradling her unconscious daughter, her eyes brimming with panic.


    William, meanwhile, stood frozen. He had no words or strength to talk. He looked at Jennifer... and that¡¯s when he saw it.


    A dark, red stain spreading on the delicate white silk between her thighs.


    He blinked several times to confirm. Then his instincts snapped into motion.


    "She¡¯s miscarrying."


    William, a man hardened by business and betrayal, felt cold rity descend over him. He¡¯d seen this before... trauma-induced miscarriage. It wasn¡¯t rare. His daughter needed medical attention now.


    But he also saw an opportunity out of this. "Jeanne, we need to get her to a hospital. Now," he said urgently, kneeling beside Jennifer. "She¡¯s bleeding."


    Without hesitation, he gathered Jennifer into his arms. Her head lolled gently to the side, her body limp and blood soaking into her dress.


    "Quickly!" he barked, already running towards the exit.


    Jeanne ran after him, pale with fear.


    They reached the car park in moments. William gently ced Jennifer in the backseat. Jeanne slid in beside her, cing her daughter¡¯s head in herp and whispering desperately.


    William climbed into the front passenger seat and said to the driver, "Go to the nearest hospital. Drive fast."


    The car tore away from the venue, its tyres screeching on the tarmac.


    Back inside, Phoebe stood in silence, torn between guilt and reason. She¡¯d pped Jennifer and the girl had copsed... and now might have lost the baby. But deep down, Phoebe couldn¡¯t deny a flicker of relief.


    "If the child is lost... there¡¯ll be no DNA tests. No messy exnations. No scandal pinned on James. Perhaps... this is for the best." She thought as her eyes drifted back to James, who stood stiffly, staring at the floor, Benjamin murmuring beside him.


    A thought came to her. She approached, voice calm and coaxing. "James, listen to me... Jennifer might have had a miscarriage. We don¡¯t know for sure. But this isn¡¯t the time to stand here stunned."


    She softened her voice. "Let¡¯s go to the hospital. If there¡¯s any chance to save the baby, we must try."


    James looked at her, dazed, as though trying to process her words through a haze of shock.


    Phoebe turned to Benjamin. "Mr Chen, would you kindly handle the guests? The bride had left for hospital, and the ceremony obviously can¡¯t proceed. But the food and venue are paid for. Please see it through."


    Benjamin gave her a short nod. "Of course. Leave it to me."


    Without another word, Phoebe took James¡¯s arm and led him towards the exit. He followed her, like a man moving through water, dragged by a current too strong to fight.


    Once they were gone, Benjamin turned to the remaining groomsmen and friends. "We¡¯ll need to address the guests. Apologise. Wrap this up quickly and cleanly," he said.


    The group nodded. Together, they moved towards the front, preparing to speak. Behind them, the slides on the stage continued to y ironically.


    ***


    Manchester Royal Infirmary was the nearest emergency facility, and the driver did not hesitate. The moment they arrived, hospital staff took charge. Jennifer was rushed into the ER. It didn¡¯t take long for the doctor to confirm what William had already feared... the baby was gone.


    The miscarriage was clean but needed follow-up treatment. Jennifer was stabilised and admitted, but she remained unconscious. The silence of the hospital corridor only deepened the grief wing through Jeanne¡¯s chest.


    In the waiting area, William sat stiffly, eyes fixed on the sterile white tiles. His expression was unreadable... a mixture of worry, regret, and calction.


    "We need to figure out who did this to her," Jeanne whispered hoarsely, rubbing her arms like the chill of betrayal had sunk deep into her bones.


    William shook his head. "No... not now. Not yet. We have too many enemies, and right now the damage is already done."


    He looked at her for a long second. "Wey low. Observe. Let the noise pass," he said. "If we make a move now, we might y straight into someone¡¯s hand."


    He pulled out his phone and called the Hyatt to check the situation. The hotel manager reassured him that the program had ended, the guests were gone, and Benjamin Chen had settled the remaining dues on his behalf.


    William exhaled slowly, the weight on his chest easing slightly. But the real storm, he knew, had only just begun.


    ***


    Meanwhile, in the quiet luxury of Clifford Manor, Phoebe had brought James straight home. She hadn¡¯t even considered going to the hospital... not out of malice, but pure pragmatism. In her mind, there was no point mourning the loss of a child whose parentage was now questionable.


    The baby¡¯s death, to her, was a cleansing fire. One less problem to contend with.


    As for James, she dismissed his behaviour entirely. "Boys will be boys," she told herself. "No one expects loyalty from a man in his youth... not until he¡¯s settled and ready. But a woman? A woman must be clean, loyal, untouched... especially in our circles."


    It was a double standard she carried like gospel.


    But James didn¡¯t share her indifference.


    He stumbled into his room, locked the door, and pulled open the cab. He grabbed one half-finished vodka, unscrewed the cap, and took a long, bitter pull.


    ***


    The remaining guests departed the venue one by one, each wearing an expression of disbelief. None had ever attended such a scandalous wedding. Some left wide-eyed, almost delighted by the chaos they¡¯d just witnessed; others immediately began gossiping over the phone, recounting the evening¡¯s events to anyone willing to listen. A few, unsettled, couldn¡¯t help but fear... what if something like this happened to them one day?


    Among the attendees were several journalists. Once seated in their cars, they instinctively reached for their phones to call their editors, eager to break the story. But to their surprise, they were informed that a dedicated website had already been created, containing all thepromising photographs. Someone had discreetly sent the link to every major media outlet.


    The site didn¡¯t only feature images... it hosted videos as well. A few local online portals had already run the story, and it was spreading like wildfire. On social media, obscure news ounts were suddenly going viral.


    This sudden surge of attention put pressure on established news outlets, and soon enough, they too werepelled to report on the scandal. Those journalists who had been present at the event were instructed to submit full coverage of the wedding disaster,plete with eyewitness details.


    By midnight, the Whitmore¨CClifford Scandal was trending across every major tform. National news channels picked up the story and broadcast it relentlessly.


    As traffic to the anonymous website continued to climb, other sites joined the frenzy... reposting the images and videos to capitalise on the attention. Human nature craves gossip, and the allure of leaked footage proved more potent than even legal porn content. People swarmed to these websites.


    Within hours, copies of the material surfaced on adult tforms as well. And so, in the space of a single night, the inte was flooded. The faces of James Clifford and Jennifer Whitmore had be immortalised... for all the wrong reasons. It would be a long time before the public forgot.


    ***


    Meanwhile, Greyson Marsh and Florence Mitchell sat in their modest house, unable to sleep. The flickering glow of their TV and mobile screens lit the otherwise dark room. They watched, silently, as the entire spectacle unfolded before their eyes... page by page, headline by headline.


    They hadn¡¯t known who, or what, had provoked the wrath of the big boss. But the moment Greyson had been instructed to attend the wedding and press that button, he understood someone¡¯s downfall had already been decided.


    They knew better than to ask questions.


    Having experienced the reach and ruthlessness of the big boss before, they did what was asked without hesitation. Still, it hadn¡¯t urred to them that the consequences would be this devastating.


    For hours, they monitored the coverage. Every new headline, every reposted image, every tweet seemed to add weight to the avnche. It was no longer just a scandal... it was annihtion.


    Then, just as dawn began to break, Greyson¡¯s phone rang. The caller ID lit up: Miss Raynor.


    His heart skipped. Unknowingly, he stood up with his phone and answered immediately.


    "Good job," came Eleanor¡¯s calm voice, cool and controlled.


    "As a reward, contact Francesca Walters. CEO of EverBuild Solutions Limited. Tell her my name... she¡¯ll know what to do."


    She hung up without waiting for a reply.

 Chapter 180: A Lesson from a Mother to Her Daughter

    <h4>Chapter 180: A Lesson from a Mother to Her Daughter</h4>


    After waking early in the morning, Eleanor went to the bathroom to freshen up. Freya had slept with her the previous night and was still sleeping peacefully. Eleanor checked the time and decided to let her rest a few minutes longer.


    She picked up her mobile and nced through the news. As expected, James and Jennifer¡¯s scandal was trending on every app. Some news sites had already detailed the events that had unfolded the night before. She clicked on an article that caught her eye.


    "Greyson did a good job with the timing," she thought.


    Yesterday, she had sent all the photos and videos to one of her old contacts in the World Hacker Alliance. That hacker goes by the name ByteWitch. Their rtionship had been solid back when Eleanor was still active in the hackermunity a few years ago. ByteWitch had handled several jobs for her back then, and she had always been meticulous in her work.


    These days, Eleanor was preupied with the various businesses she¡¯d recently invested in. More importantly, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with Freya before the Trial of Yggdrasil. She no longer felt particrly interested in the revenge against the Whitmore family. It remained a necessary task on her list, but her emotional investment had long since faded... unlike five years ago.


    That was why she had delegated the job to ByteWitch, instructing her to make sure the scandal remained in the spotlight for an entire week. She believed a week would be more than enough topletely destroy the reputation of James and Jennifer, along with their family.


    After scrolling through several headlines and reading thement sections, she was satisfied with ByteWitch¡¯s work. With a faint smile, she set the phone down, changed into a fresh outfit, and made her way to the study.


    Sitting at her desk, she retrieved her Bittium Tough Mobile and powered it on. After entering the secure interface of the World Hacker Alliance, she sent a message directly to ByteWitch¡¯s profile:


    "ckCat: Great job. You will receive 100,000 dors today. The remaining 200,000 will be sent to your ount after six days."


    She didn¡¯t wait for a reply.


    She copied ByteWitch¡¯s bank ount number from the profile to her regr mobile and sent it, along with a message, to Teresa:


    "Send 100,000 dors to this ount today, anonymously. Another 200,000 will be sent in six days. Ensure that the recipient cannot trace my identity."


    Once the message was sent, she powered off the Bittium and locked it back in the drawer.


    Then she took her regr phone and called Greyson Marsh. As soon as he picked up, she skipped pleasantries and spoke curtly.


    "Good job. As a reward, contact Francesca Walters, CEO of EverBuild Solutions Limited. Mention my name. She¡¯ll know what to do."


    She ended the call before the ttery could begin. She didn¡¯t need to inform Francesca directly. "As a smart woman, she¡¯ll understand why I¡¯ve sent Greyson to her," she thought.


    At that moment, she sensed the presence of her shadow guards outside the door.


    "Send Ophelia to me," she said in a slightly raised voice, just enough for them to hear.


    Sebastian materialised into the study. "Ma¡¯am, Ophelia isn¡¯t here. If you wish, I can handle the job. Or I can send Isadora instead."


    "No. I need her specifically. You won¡¯t do," Eleanor replied tly.


    "Understood, ma¡¯am. Please wait... I¡¯ll contact her now," Sebastian said.


    He took out his mobile and called Ophelia. After a brief exchange, he reported, "Ophelia will be here within five minutes."


    "Good. You may go."


    Sebastian vanished silently into the shadows. Eleanor started to check the news regarding the scandal.


    A few minutester, there was a knock at the study door.


    "Come in," Eleanor called.


    "Good morning, ma¡¯am. You asked for me," Ophelia said as she stepped inside.


    "Yes. I have a job for you," Eleanor replied with a small smile. "But I need the ck Revenger... not you."


    "I don¡¯t understand," Ophelia said, frowning slightly.


    "I want you to cut someone¡¯s leg again."


    Realisation dawned, and Ophelia grinned. "That¡¯s no problem. Whose leg are we taking this time?"


    Eleanor slid her phone across the desk. Ophelia picked it up. The news of the scandal filled the screen.


    "This is today¡¯s trending news. I want you to cut off James Clifford¡¯s leg... and destroy it. Just likest time, there should be witnesses. And your appearance must match that of the ck Revenger."


    "With this scandal in motion, the stage is set for the ck Revenger¡¯s return. If you cripple him, the public will tie it directly to the ongoing scandal," she added.


    "I understand. Consider it done," Ophelia said with a nod.


    "You may go. I have to wake Freya and take her to school."


    Eleanor stood, picked up her phone, and walked out of the room. Behind her, Ophelia melted silently into the shadows.


    ***


    By the time mother and daughter were ready for the day, Ethan was already waiting downstairs to take Freya to school. They got into Ethan¡¯s car and began the short drive to the academy.


    On the way, Eleanor said, "I have an appointment today with Ste Rimington, the headmistress of Freya¡¯s school. You¡¯re wee to join me if you have time."


    "Has something happened?" Ethan asked.


    "No, it¡¯s just a routine meeting about Freya¡¯s progress and future nning. They called a few days ago. All the parents were asked to choose a time slot... I chose drop-off time today. One parent is mandatory, but both are allowed to attend."


    "Then count me in. It¡¯ll only take a few minutes. Do we need to bring anything?"


    "I asked in the mom¡¯s group. Apparently, it¡¯s customary to bring a gift for the teachers... some bring homemade food, others bring choctes or small presents. I decided to give them each an iPhone. There are thirty-seven teachers in the school altogether. Teresa bought forty phones yesterday. La has them in my car."


    Ethan nced behind. Eleanor¡¯s convoy was following them closely.


    "If your convoy enters the school grounds, won¡¯t that cause a bit of a scene?"


    "Don¡¯t worry... they¡¯re aware. Only my car will enter the school premises. The others will park at a distance."


    Ethan nodded. "That¡¯s good. But don¡¯t you think giving out so many iPhones is a bit... excessive?"


    "I¡¯ve thought it through. It¡¯s just among the teachers. The students won¡¯t know. Besides, I¡¯ve already seen other parents giving gifts to teachers on multiple asions. I want to make sure everyone gives my daughter the attention she deserves."


    Ethan gave a faint smile. "As you wish."


    Beside them, Freya had been listening quietly. She asked, "Mummy, can I give my friends some phones too? Some of them don¡¯t have anything to y with at home like I do."


    Eleanor turned to her, her voice gentle but firm. "No, sweetie. You can¡¯t give your friends expensive gifts. No matter how much money we have, it¡¯s better to appear moderate. The human mind behaves strangely. If you show too much wealth at your age, you¡¯ll end up with no real friends. Some will praise you, some will admire you, and some will envy you... but in the end, you¡¯ll be surrounded by false smiles and empty words."


    She paused, letting the thought settle, then continued.


    "On the other hand, if people believe you¡¯re poor, they might pity you, try to help... or worse, look down on you for not fitting their standard. Again, you¡¯ll be left with no real friends. Only by showing a moderate amount of wealth can you find people worth keeping around."


    She met Freya¡¯s eyes directly. "You¡¯re a clever girl. I know how sensitive you are to falsehood. As a Raynor, you already have the strength that no one in your ss can match. Don¡¯t reject anyone, even if you sense they¡¯re lying or have hidden motives. I sent you to this school so you can mix with these children. Watch them. Learn why they behave the way they do. Speak with them in a way that makes them happy to be near you, but never let yourself lose anything in return."


    "As a Raynor, you¡¯ll one day have to deal with other races... for business, for alliances, for influence. This school is your training ground for interacting with humans. Use this time wisely. Children are truer to their behaviour. The older they grow, the more false they be. When you meet adults, you¡¯ll find nothing but masks."


    Eleanor¡¯s tone grew serious as she leaned slightly towards her daughter.


    "Helping others is a virtue. But helping someone unnecessarily can cause more harm than good. Think about it... Perhaps some of your friends used to have devices. Maybe they abused their screen time, and their parents took those devices away to teach them restraint. If you give them new ones, their parents¡¯ lessons will fail."


    "Not everyone is as intelligent as you. And don¡¯t forget... you¡¯re physically superior to them as a supernatural being. Help others when they¡¯re truly in need... I won¡¯t stop you. But make sure your help will be appreciated, not resented. And remember: never expect anything in return. No gratitude. Not even a thank you. Help only for your own satisfaction. And if you no longer feel satisfaction from helping others, don¡¯t force yourself... even if they seem to need it."


    She added, "The world is cruel. But you must never be cruel to yourself."


    At that moment, the car came to a gentle stop in front of the school gates. Eleanor picked up her phone and dialled La.


    "Bring the box to my car," she instructed.


    Ethan, Eleanor, and Freya stepped out of the vehicle. La approached and handed the box over to Ethan, who carried it effortlessly.


    After handing Freya over to Miss Cooper, Eleanor walked into the school and made her way towards the headmistress¡¯s office. Ethan followed close behind, carrying therge box containing forty brand-new iPhones.

 Chapter 181: A Sudden Change in Leadership

    <h4>Chapter 181: A Sudden Change in Leadership</h4>


    A shocking piece of news swept through the werewolfmunity.


    Alistair Gerymoore, head of the Gerymoore n, had sent a formal letter to the King of Werewolves, using Eleanor Raynor and the Raynor n of unjustly disrupting their business interests and political standing within the kingdom. He had even provided several pieces of evidence to support his im.


    Due to the recent holy duel, most werewolves were already aware of the rising hostility between the two ns... many had either witnessed the duel firsthand or heard detailed ounts. They were also familiar with the sudden, dramatic shifts in the kingdom¡¯s politicalndscape. Now that the Gerymoore n had formally lodged aint, it was easy for the public to connect the dots between what had once seemed like unrted events.


    Alistair Gerymoore had gone personally to the King, pleading for intervention and fair judgement. He made no effort to conceal his visit to Brontes Ind. The transparency of his presence added an air of credibility to his usations. Rumours spread quickly, and people were stunned by how the Raynor n had behaved... quietly dismantling the Gerymoore n¡¯s influence across the kingdom while the public¡¯s attention was on the duel.


    What shocked them even more was the merciless precision behind it all... especially when a new name emerged at the heart of it: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor.


    Until recently, most of the supernaturalmunity had been only vaguely aware of the Raynor n¡¯s young heiress. Fiona Raynor was still the recognised head of the n, and Eleanor hadrgely remained a name without weight. But now, with Alistair¡¯s formal usations aimed not at Fiona, but Eleanor herself, interest in her surged throughout the supernatural world.


    People began investigating... and what they found stunned them. Eleanor had risen swiftly in recent years, emerging from rtive obscurity to wield significant power and influence.


    As that revtion took root, another bombshell exploded from within the Gerymoore family.


    Citing Alistair¡¯s impulsive and reckless behaviour, the Elders¡¯ Council of the Gerymoore n dismissed him from his position as n head. In his ce, Grand Elder George Gerymoore would act as interim head until a sessor could be chosen.


    Upon assuming leadership, George personally contacted Fiona Raynor to apologise for Alistair¡¯s actions. He also requested a formal meeting with both Fiona and Eleanor, expressing his intent to visit the Raynor Estate in Manchester. Interestingly, Fiona agreed to the meeting... but made no promise that Eleanor would be present.


    The call, made in front of the entire Gerymoore n, was inevitably leaked, fuelling even more discussion among the werewolves.


    Later that day, George summoned Margot Gerymoore, who had been assigned to gather intelligence on Eleanor Raynor days earlier.


    Inside the council chamber, George and several elders listened as Margot presented her findings.


    "Are you certain Eleanor coborated with Werehyenas and Nagas?" one elder asked sharply.


    "Yes, Elder," Margot replied. "I have first-hand sources. There is no doubt. She was doing business with the Bultungin n in Nigeria and the Nagavanshi n in India. Witnesses have seen Werehyenas operating within her Nigerian Special Economic Zone, and Nagas working inside her factories in India."


    George leaned back in his chair, brows furrowed. "I don¡¯t understand what this girl is thinking. The Raynor n has coborated with humans before, yes... but never with other supernatural races. It¡¯smon knowledge that the races have always been in silentpetition. Why would she trust them? Is she trying to change the course of our history?"


    A female elder spoke next. "I think much has changed while we¡¯ve been in seclusion. I have a nagging sense that our n is falling behind. I¡¯ve known Fiona for a long time... she would never have entertained partnerships with other races. If she¡¯s allowing Eleanor to act so freely, then perhaps she herself has changed over the years."


    She paused, then added, "Grand Elder, when you travel to Manchester to meet Fiona, allow me to apany you. I want to see with my own eyes how she¡¯s changed."


    George nodded. "Very well. I¡¯ll leave in two days. Be ready."


    Margot then hesitated before speaking again. "There¡¯s another rumour... unsettling, though unconfirmed. Eleanor recently visited Russia. No one knows why, but some im she returned with a vampire girl who stayed in her vi for several weeks."


    George narrowed his eyes. "Do we know who the girl is?"


    "I¡¯m not certain," Margot admitted. "But my sources suggest her name is Anastasiya. No one has confirmed her identity, however."


    A moment of silence passed before George¡¯s eyes lit up. "Anastasiya Ivanova... the favourite granddaughter of Alexander Ivanov."


    One of the elders gasped. "You mean Alexander Ivanov of the Greater Caucasus... the eldest member of the Vampire High Council?"


    George nodded slowly. "If she came from Russia, it could very well be her. But I can¡¯t fathom why Alexander Ivanov would allow Anastasiya to stay with Eleanor Raynor. That old monster never lets the girl out of his sight. Now it seems there are manyyers to this girl that we don¡¯t yet understand."


    He turned to Margot once more. "Continue gathering intelligence on Eleanor. I also wantprehensive updates on the other Raynor n members, and anything significant that¡¯s changed within the supernatural races. Don¡¯t worry about the cost... if you need to purchase information, submit it for reimbursement. I¡¯ll approve it."


    Margot bowed and exited the chamber.


    Once the door had closed, George turned to the remaining elders. "We need to scatter across the ns. Speak to old friends, rekindle old connections... find out what¡¯s happening. I fear that our society is changing, much like it did during the Industrial Revolution. And our n is already falling behind."


    The female elder nodded gravely. "I agree, Grand Elder. Our younger generation has failed to adapt. Now it¡¯s up to us old bones to preserve our standing among the ns."


    The others murmured their agreement.


    George rose from his chair and said, "Very well. Let¡¯s support the n one more time... before we retreat into the shadows again."


    ***


    On the storm-wreathed ind of Brontes, Menus Lychos emerged from the rear gate of the obsidian castle. Behind him, the castle of the Lychos n rose like a cathedral of night... its walls, towers, and parapets forged entirely from ck volcanic ss, etched by centuries of wind and lightning. Outside the castle, the world was cast in monochrome shades of polished onyx and shadow. As sunlight filtered down through the swirling stormclouds and errant forks of lightning, it caught the edges of the ck stone, gilding the entire structure in a radiant halo of molten gold. It did not shimmer; it zed, like something holy and terrifying... a relic from an age before memory.


    With that ancient monument to the Lychos bloodline behind him, Menus set his stride toward the distant Thunder Mountain, a jagged monolith that loomed ahead like a titan¡¯s tombstone. Each of his steps echoed softly along the stony path that coiled upward between shadow-draped ridges.


    Nature¡¯s hand had not yet relinquished its im on the mountain slopes. Groves of Aleppo and Cbrian pines leaned over the path like silent sentinels, their needleced branches whispering in the hignd wind. Tall cypress trees stood still as statues, wrapped in a subtle mist that clung to their trunks. Wildflowers... some pale as moonlight, others deep crimson like blood-soaked silk... swayed in quiet ritual, while long grasses danced to rhythms only the mountain seemed to know. The scent of pine resin mingled with damp earth and blooming petals, threading through the air in waves. Here and there, butterflies flickered like coloured embers between the blossoms. From above, the lonely cry of a hignd raptor would pierce the hush, then vanish into the thunderced heavens.


    Menus walked alone, the rocky trail crunching beneath his boots, his long cloak stirring behind him like a dark banner. His tall, wide-shouldered, andmanding silhouette cast a colossal shadow across the narrow trail, devouring sunlight like a herald of dusk. The mountain air crackled faintly, tingling on his skin. The further he ascended, the louder the silence became, until even the whisper of wind and birdcall faded away, leaving only the distant voice of the sky: the low, rolling drum of periodic thunder.


    The Thunder Mountain came into his view. Vast clouds churned endlessly around its peak, stitched with veins of white-hot lightning that danced across the heavens like celestial serpents. The air vibrated with a low hum, the song of countless tempests coiled in fury. Thunder cracked with the voice of a wrathful god, shaking the bones of thend. As Menus ascended, lightning arcs descended in silken strikes, coiling around his body like luminous vipers before sinking harmlessly into the stone beneath his feet.


    The path ended in the open expanse of the summit, and there the storm made its home. The sky above was a churning ocean of cloud and lightning arcs, torn apart by wild rumbles of lightning. lightning tendrils cascaded downward in endless session, crashing into the earth, curling through the air in intricate, blinding patterns. There was no shelter in front of him... no trees, no soil, only ckened rock scoured smooth by years of sky-born fury.


    The brightness was unbearable; the lightning arcs were so luminous, so constant, that no eye could look directly at their center without pain. Within that terrible light, the vague silhouette of a werewolf was suspended in mid-air.


    He hovered amidst the fury, motionless, as if held aloft by the will of the storm itself. Thousands of lightning arcs wove a living cage around him,shing the air in violent elegance. His form was barely visible... just the faint, hulking outline of something immense and still. Not even thunder broke his concentration. Surrounded by the periodic crack of the sky itself, distant and divine.


    Menus lowered himself to one knee on the scorched rock, the electric air prickling across his skin. His voice rang out clear, strong, and alone beneath the storm.


    "Your Majesty, I came to report."

 Chapter 182: The Thunderbolt Bloodline

    <h4>Chapter 182: The Thunderbolt Bloodline</h4>


    Menus Lychos kept his kneeling position for some time, but nothing changed before him. He waited patiently, unmoving.


    After what felt like a long stretch of silence, the air in front of him shifted. The suspended mass of lightning arcs moved slightly. A majestic werewolf emerged from the radiance, countless arcs still coiling around its body as it floated towards Menus.


    The werewolf slowly transformed into his human form, the silhouette gliding forward until hended gently in front of Menus. Residual lightning still danced across the folds of his majestic ck robe. He stared down at the kneeling Menus with piercing green eyes and spoke in a deep voice that seemed to echo from thousands of miles away... despite standing right before him.


    "Speak."


    It was Erevan Brontes Lychos, King of the Werewolves.


    Menus had served the king for nearly thirty years, yet still, a deep-rooted fear coiled in his stomach whenever he addressed him.


    He had also served the former king, Damon Brontes Lychos. Normally, Erevan was more approachable than his father. But when he cultivated or released his bloodline ability, Menus felt as though a mountain pressed down upon him. Erevan¡¯s aura was so vast and oppressive that it became difficult to breathe.


    "I... I..." Menus stammered, struggling to speak.


    Erevan immediately understood, and with a thought, he retracted his aura, cancelling his bloodline ability.


    The oppressive weight vanished. Menus drew several deep breaths, then said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."


    After a pause, he began again. "You asked me to gather information regarding Alistair Gerymoore¡¯s plea, and about Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. Though not yetplete, I¡¯ve managed to gather some insight into the matter."


    He stopped briefly, still adjusting to the atmosphere.


    Seeing this, Erevan stepped forward and ced a hand lightly upon Menus¡¯s head. A wave of spiritual energy coursed through his veins, wiping away thest traces of fatigue and pressure. Then, he stepped back to his previous position and stood straight, hands behind his back.


    "Thank you for your help, Your Majesty," Menus said again.


    He continued. "There is some truth in Alistair¡¯sint. The Raynor n did not move from their position when the Gerymoore n¡¯s political foundation was destroyed in the kingdom. Their wealth or other direct influence wasn¡¯t involved in that situation. However, we did uncover a link that may connect Eleanor Raynor to those events... but proving it will be difficult."


    He paused, then added, "Eleanor visited the Earl of Birmingham several times before the political fallout. And she didn¡¯t conceal her movements. She travelled with her full protocol and security convoy. That Earl was long retired from politics, but after the event, he became a member of the House of Lords and now ys an important role within the current opposition party. From what I¡¯ve heard, most party leadership now listens to his guidance."


    He frowned. "However, there is aplication. That family was highly influential in the past, so their resurgence could be interpreted as a natural reaction to the sudden political vacuum."


    He added, "We also found subtle traces of nc n activity before the incident. But their work was so meticulously hidden that there¡¯s no way to use them outright."


    He paused again, then said, "Also, the Gerymoore n¡¯sint is not entirely urate. The attack was not directed specifically at them... it struck at the kingdom¡¯s political structure as a whole. Gerymoore n was simply caught in the crossfire. Since Alistair has formally brought this matter to your attention, I rmend we dismiss theint due tock of solid evidence."


    Erevan replied, "Very well. Do as you deem fit."


    After a moment¡¯s thought, he asked, "What is the rtionship between the Earl and Eleanor? And what is she nning with him?"


    Menus answered, "We found no personal connection. But it¡¯s clear they¡¯re on good terms. As for future ns... I doubt the Earl himself ys a major role. The opposition¡¯s prime ministerial candidate is someone else entirely, with no prior association to the Earl. I believe the Earl serves as a liaison between Eleanor and the party. She¡¯sying the groundwork to dominate the kingdom¡¯s politicalndscape."


    Erevan¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "The Raynor n has never interfered in human politics. This is unprecedented. Keep an eye on Eleanor, and inform me of any developments."


    "Yes, Your Majesty," Menus said.


    With that, Erevan floated back into the storm¡¯s heart, returning to his position at the centre of the thunder and lightning.


    ***


    The Whitmore¨CClifford Scandal still dominated the online news portals. Although television channels had moved on to newer, more engaging headlines, online media clung stubbornly to the scandal. Idle readers loved to browse through gossip... and what did they love most? Scandals. Online tforms continued to post follow-up stories from that infamous night.


    A few paparazzi had taken it upon themselves to dig deeper, hoping to unearth juicier angles. After the sex tapes and intimate photos were leaked, the scandal reached new heights on search engines. People across the kingdom discreetly searched for the footage, boosting keywords like Whitmore Scandal, Jennifer leaked photos, and Clifford affair to the top of trending lists.


    Business rivals of the Clifford family seized the opportunity to leak their shady government dealings to lesser-known news portals, who weed the content enthusiastically. The stock valuation of Clifford Holdings plummeted. Some even unearthed long-buried rtionship scandals involving various Clifford family members, painting them as a corrupt and morally bankrupt family. The bacsh didn¡¯t focus solely on the men... several of the daughters were named and shamed as well.


    Old mes of the Clifford family members... jilted lovers, ex-fianc¨¦es, or former partners... surfaced across social media, sharing tales of betrayal and deceit. They imed they¡¯d been used and discarded, taking this as the opportunity of a lifetime to exact revenge.


    Among the family members, James¡¯s second elder brother, Robin Clifford, suffered the most intense bacsh. It surfaced that years ago, he had raped and impregnated a female cleaning staff member at hispany, then coerced her into aborting the child. The woman had been a Syrian refugee... powerless, without kin, her family lost to the civil war. She hade to the kingdom seeking asylum through the Red Cross.


    With no supportwork, she had been easily silenced. The incident was buried.


    Robin never even knew what became of her after the abortion.


    But someone had kept the hospital documents from the abortion. Now, that anonymous person posted the report online, choosing this moment to strike. Though the victim¡¯s name was redacted in the shared medical papers, the post gained momentum. Manyizens tagged the official crime division ount, demanding action.


    As news portals picked up the story, police werepelled to investigate... especially once it was confirmed that the victim had received asylum through the Red Cross, whose name had also been tagged widely. Their reputation, now implicated, was at risk.


    Upon learning the Red Cross was drawn into the matter, Jonathon Clifford acted swiftly. He sent his nephew Robin abroad, away from the kingdom. It proved a wise move, as police inquiries soon confirmed that Robin himself had taken the woman to the clinic. After the abortion, she had developed severe mental illness and was currently under indefinite psychiatric care in an NHS facility.


    On its official page, the Red Cross released a public statement. They rified that they had no knowledge of what had happened to the woman. She had never been in a position to report the crime herself. However, once she was admitted into the NHS system, the Red Cross had supported her medical care and facilitated her cement in the psychiatric hospital.


    Public consensus shifted as they demanded justice for that pitiful woman.


    Clifford family members believed all this misfortune had been triggered by James¡¯s scandal. Rather than reflect on their own sins, they condemned James, ming him for dragging their reputation into ruin.


    They gathered at the Clifford family estate, pressuring Nichs Clifford to formally expel James from the family lineage.


    Nichs, though aware this campaign was orchestrated by Jonathon to protect his own son¡¯s future, also recognised the seriousness of the moment. Keeping the family united was essential to weather the storm.


    He ordered Jonathon to send someone to retrieve James and bring him before him.


    But James had switched off his phone since the wedding debacle. No one had been able to contact him. Drowning in shame and sorrow, he had retreated to a Chinese club under Benjamin¡¯s protection... certain that no one would dare bother him there. A few close friends had joined him to offer support.


    At midnight, as they stepped outside the club, a woman d in ck appeared from nowhere. With a fluid motion, she sliced off James¡¯s leg below his knee, then turned and walked away in front of his stunned friends. By the time they regained their senses enough to react, she had already vanished.


    Later that night, a shocking headline shed across nearly every news channel: The ck Revenger Strikes Again.

 Chapter 183: The Fear of the Black Revenger

    <h4>Chapter 183: The Fear of the ck Revenger</h4>


    The news of the ck Revenger¡¯s reappearance spread like wildfire. With her sudden return, the Whitmore¨CClifford scandal was reignited across the country. Several fan pages that had once been created during her earlier appearances... pages that had been slowly dying out were now revitalized. It was proof she had never truly disappeared; she had merely been waiting for the second scumbag to strike.


    The weic based on her exploits, which had gained moderate poprity back then, was reposted and this time went viral. People began requesting a sequel, and the creator announced that a new instalment would be released within days.


    Amidst the chaos stirred by the ck Revenger, Eleanor¡¯s n worked exactly as intended. The scandal involving James and Jennifer reached new, unprecedented heights. Across every tform, they werebelled the ultimate cheating couple.


    Back when Eleanor herself had been kidnapped and raped, social media and online news portals hadn¡¯t yet reached the masses. The story was mostly passed around through gossip in the localmunity, and appeared buried deep within the inner pages of national newspapers. As the Whitmores were only a second-rate family in Manchester, the headlines had stayed small.


    Now, however, things were different. The first-rate Clifford family was involved. A sex tape had been leaked. National media pounced. Social media reached every home, and regardless of who they were in real life, everyone became a self-proimed judge and executioner online.


    The ck Revenger¡¯s appearance shocked the Whitmore family to the core. They could notprehend how James had lost his leg so easily, without a sound or warning. They were discussing the matter in the private hospital room where Jennifer was receiving post-operative care. She was mostly healed, but the doctors had rmended she remain under observation for another day or two.


    The conversation ceased when they heard a knock at the door. William stood and opened it. Bernie Sanders, the man who had recently bought William¡¯s shares in EverBuild, stood outside with a smile stered on his face and a fruit basket in hand.


    "Ah! Mr Sanders. Come in,e in," William said, ushering him inside.


    Jennifer and Jeanne subtly adjusted their clothes as they turned to see who it was. William introduced him, "Mr Sanders, this is my wife, Jeanne. And of course, you know my daughter, Jennifer."


    Bernie gave a small nod. "Good morning, Mrs Whitmore. Miss Whitmore. Mr Whitmore and I are old acquaintances. I hope you don¡¯t mind my sudden visit."


    Jeanne replied politely, "Not at all. Good morning, Mr Sanders. Please, have a seat." She gestured to a chair nearby.


    Bernie sat and let out a soft sigh. "I¡¯m truly sorry for your loss. I was out of town when it happened. I came to see you as soon as I returned."


    William¡¯s heart lifted slightly. Among all his business associates, Bernie was the only one who had reached out after the disaster. The others had avoided him like the gue.


    "Thank you for your concern. We really appreciate it," William said.


    After some small talk about Jennifer¡¯s recovery, carefully skirting around the scandal itself... Bernie finally came to the reason for his visit.


    "Mr Whitmore, what¡¯s done is done. Now, we must look to the future. What unsettles me most is the ck Revenger¡¯s return. Mr Clifford has already suffered at her hands. I fear she may target Miss Whitmore next. You must be cautious, at least for a few days."


    The thought hadn¡¯t even urred to the Whitmores. Until now, the ck Revenger had only harmed the men. But Bernie¡¯s words nted a seed... and with it, unease.


    Jeanne said hesitantly, "She¡¯s only attacked men so far... not women. And we¡¯re in a hospital. She wouldn¡¯t be so brazen as to strike here, would she?"


    "I hope not," Bernie replied. "But Miss Whitmore was directly involved in the scandal. It¡¯s only a possibility... but one worth preparing for."


    William frowned. "What should we do? We¡¯ll be leaving the hospital in a day or two. After that... we¡¯ll be exposed."


    "In light of our past rtionship," Bernie said slowly, "if you don¡¯t mind... I have a suggestion."


    All three turned to him expectantly. William nodded. "Please, go ahead. We¡¯d be d for your advice."


    Bernie leaned forward slightly. "You must face reality. The situation has escted to the point where everyone recognizes Miss Whitmore¡¯s face. People will always look down on her now. And let¡¯s be honest... You have no work here anymore. If you¡¯ve saved anything, this might be the time to start fresh... abroad. Miss Whitmore is still young, and you¡¯ve got experience. You can help her build something new."


    William sighed. "To be honest, we haven¡¯t saved much. Nothing significant to begin anew."


    Bernie answered quickly, "That¡¯s understandable. But if you¡¯re leaving the country, what use are your properties here? You could sell them. Later, buy new ones wherever you go. I don¡¯t have the cash to buy myself, but I can help you find a buyer."


    William exhaled heavily. "All my EverBuild shares are gone. I have some shares in a few internationalpanies, but they aren¡¯t worth much. I can sell them online at any time. Still... your suggestion makes sense. There¡¯s no future for us here. Relocation might be our only peace."


    Bernie said, "If you¡¯ve gotnd, shares, or shops to sell, I can arrange it. But I won¡¯t do it for free. I¡¯ll need a benefit... whatever percentage you think is fair after you receive the funds."


    William nodded slowly. "We¡¯ll have to think it through. If I decide to sell, I¡¯ll contact you. But I have one request... please don¡¯t spread the word. I want this to stay as quiet as possible."


    "Of course," Bernie replied smoothly.


    After some further small talk, Bernie left the cabin. For a long time, all three members of the Whitmore family sat in silence.


    The silence was broken by Jennifer.


    "Dad, Mum, I think what Mr Sanders said is the reality. I don¡¯t know who holds such hatred toward me... or us... that they¡¯d go to such lengths. But the situation right now isn¡¯t in our favour. EverBuild is gone from our hands. The shares I still hold might allow me to remain as a director, at most. But after those photos leaked... getting support from other shareholders will be an uphill battle. If I can sell those shares for a decent price, it¡¯ll be good for us. We can sell off whatever other properties we still have. Let¡¯s go to the US. We can start fresh."


    Jeanne said, "You two didn¡¯t believe me, but I¡¯m sure that bitch Eleanor is the one who did this to us. Who else would have such hatred toward both of you? She wanted to marry James. That¡¯s why she¡¯s done all this."


    Jennifer sighed. "Mum, I know where your mind is going. But I think this was done by one of James¡¯s enemies. Just think... since everything happened, has he called me even once? Let alonee to visit? He clearly knows what¡¯s happened. And what about Aunt Phoebe? Has she contacted you a single time? Wasn¡¯t she your sister?"


    William spoke calmly. "There¡¯s no point in arguing again. We need to think carefully if we¡¯re really going to relocate. I also believe Mr Sanders made a good point. He gave me a fair price for the shares. If Jennifer can get the same rate for hers, it¡¯s worth considering. I need to make a list of everything we can sell. If we leave now, we won¡¯t being back."


    Jennifer said, "Okay, Dad. Aside from the shares, I don¡¯t have much saved. You can gather funds by selling the rest. I don¡¯t want to stay in Manchester any longer. I¡¯ve been to Virginia... I know the area a bit. We can rent a house there to start. Then I¡¯ll set up a small business. Leave that to me."


    William nodded. "Then I¡¯d better head home and start gathering everything. I¡¯ll call Mr Sanders once I¡¯ve listed what we can sell. You two stay here at the hospital. If you need anything, just call me. No matter what happens, don¡¯t leave the building."


    With that, William left the cabin, closing the door behind him.


    ***


    Eleanor paid no attention to what was happening to James or Jennifer. All her chess pieces were already in ce. They would finish the job for her.


    Her current focus was on La and Raphael¡¯s uing wedding. Since La had no surviving family members, Eleanor had taken it upon herself to act as the bride¡¯s guardian. She couldn¡¯t involve anyone else... especially not any human, as it would be a werewolf-exclusive ceremony.


    Eleanor was visiting the nc family¡¯s old estate in Knowsley, located in the county of Merseyside. The n head, Dominic nc, along with several other family members, resided here in the countryside.


    She hade for two very important reasons: one was to witness La¡¯s turning ritual, and the other was to discuss the marriage arrangements between Raphael and La.


    This would be her first time witnessing a turning ritual, which was set to begin at midnight. She was eager to observe the sacred proceedings.

 Chapter 184: History of Clan Blanc

    <h4>Chapter 184: History of n nc</h4>


    Thend stretches gently, a mixture of open skies and quietly rolling ground, where fields blur into patches of woond and thickets cluster along the edges of windingnes. Tall grasses shift with the wind, their pale-green des dancing under a sky that changes often... one moment bright and open, the next veiled in slow-moving clouds.


    Hedgerows border the roads like green walls, thick with hawthorn, ivy, andtle, tangled together in wild patterns. In spring and early summer, they bloom with scattered white blossoms and the subtle hum of bees moving between tiny flowers. Elder trees lean over fences, their branches shaped by years of weather, casting dappled shade on the earth below.


    Beyond the hedges, broad meadows open up... not t, but gently undting and dotted with wildflowers: buttercups, cow parsley, and the asional thistle pushing through with stubborn beauty. Birds are constantpanions here. Wood pigeons wheel across the air in soft flurries, crows stand sentinel on fenceposts, and smaller birds flit between the low brush and rustling grass.


    Closer to the wooded areas, the light changes. It bes filtered, golden, falling through the leaves in long, broken beams. The ground underfoot is soft with fallen leaves and moss, and the air carries the cool, damp scent of old trees and shaded soil. In these quiet groves, the sound of the outside world fades, reced by birdsong, the asional rustle of small creatures, and the whisper of breeze through the canopy.


    Even the wind seems to know its path here... slipping over the rise of distant hills, bending the tall grasses, shaking a few early petals free. On misty mornings, the wholendscape lies hidden in a silver veil, and when the sun returns, it washes everything in a pale glow, drawing dew from every leaf and de.


    Knowsley is andscape of quiet resilience... shaped by seasons, wind, and the long patience of nature, still alive and untouched along the edges of the human world.


    Amidst this sanctuary of nature, n nc had resided for hundreds of years. They were a peace-loving n that lived in istion, away from worldly affairs. In ancient times, no one dwelled in this vast expanse of woods andkes but this reclusive werewolf n.


    During eras of chaos and war, their unique shadow ability drew the attention of other supernatural races, who sought to enve them for their own ends. The shadow power had limited offensive capabilities... it was effective for assassination of lower beings, but not in directbat. Its true strengthsy in scouting and espionage. To defend themselves, n nc had to rely solely on their superior werewolf physique.


    But as generations passed in peace and seclusion, even their physical strength waned.


    These were the days before the Supernatural Council was established... a time of anarchy. very was the norm then, and power among supernatural ns was often measured by the number and strength of ves they owned.


    In that brutal hierarchy, humans were considered worthless. The supernatural races saw themselves as the next stage in human evolution... an elevated, superior existence. Even now, most supernatural species view each other with rivalry and disdain, but when ites to humans, there is an unspoken consensus: they are lesser, primitive, and beneath them all. Some races even regard humans as little more than a food source... livestock, to be consumed and discarded.


    Ironically, humans themselves believed they were the centre of the world... the most intelligent species on Earth. Among them, countless factions and ns considered themselves superior to others, endlessly killing and enving each other to prove it. Yet, as the most populous of all intelligent races, with an exceptionally high reproductive rate, humanity remained dominant. No matter how many were ughtered... by their own kind or others... they endured, multiplied, and spread all over the earth.


    In those dark days, only the strongest human warriors were ever deemed worthy of bing ves in the supernatural world. The rest had no value. Supernatural forces were far more interested in enving other supernatural beings... especially those with unique abilities. Even within their own races, powerful ns sought to subjugate weaker ones to umte strength and influence.


    Within that power structure, the rare shadow ability of n nc held exceptional significance. Other werewolf ns from the same ind attempted to enve them, hoping to harness that elusive power for espionage and infiltration. But they all failed. The nc territory was remote... isted from other ns, and sending arge force left one¡¯s own stronghold vulnerable. Moreover, n nc had long adapted to the harsh terrain of forests andkes, and they could use thendscape to their advantage.


    For a time, this istion protected them.


    But as rival ns were defeated and tales of their rare ability spread far and wide, word eventually reached beyond their ind.


    And that was when the true danger began.


    When a group of Banshees attacked the n, the ncs were unable to defend themselves. The Banshees¡¯ signature abilities... Piercing Wail and Death Omen Aura immobilised all the n nc warriors, before the fight even started. The former caused madness and deafness, while thetter induced overwhelming fear. Most of the n members sumbed instantly.


    Only the n head at that time, Aethelred nc, withstood the attack to any meaningful degree. As an Alpha, he possessed immense mental resilience and physical prowess. When he realised his n would surely lose, he made the decision to flee and seek aid. To avoid unnecessary bloodshed, he ordered his people to surrender for the time being while he alone escaped into the wilderness.


    He knew of a powerful werewolf n living deep within the itone Forest of Mamucium, which is now known as yton in Manchester... home to the Raynor n.


    The Raynor n was renowned for its bloodline, its size, and its unity as a pack. They were famed as schrs, and other werewolf ns... and even other races sought their counsel. Though known for their intellect, theirbat reputation was formidable. Most ns feared them, not because of their warriors, but because the Raynors took no prisoners as ves like other ns. Any attack on them meant only one oue: death.


    Aethelred knew the Raynors despised very, just as he did. With that shared value, he approached them and humbly pleaded for protection. In return, n nc would offer their service in chores and dailybour... essentially the work of ves, but without the chains.


    The Raynors, always curious and contemtive, were intrigued by this offer. Thus, the first subordinate n in werewolf history was formed.


    When Aethelred returned to his homnd, he found it looted and burned. Fortunately, his n had followed orders and surrendered without resistance. Only a few lives were lost. He tracked the captors to Liuerpul Beach, where the nc n members were chained and awaiting transport across the Irish Sea... known then as Mare Hibernicum.


    Eanswith Elizabeth Raynor, the head of the Raynor n, was the only one who came to rescue the members of n nc. Although Aethelred was somewhat hesitant and uncertain about the sess of the mission, he didn¡¯t dare voice his doubts, not wanting to offend such a powerful n leader.


    But when Eanswith acted, all doubts dissolved... leaving only awe, fear, and reverence.


    In mere minutes, every Banshee, their enved human warriors, and even their ships were obliterated. None had time to counterattack. It was a massacre. The only survivors were the chained members of n nc.


    The beach at Liuerpul, now Liverpool, was dyed red with blood. The waves of the Irish Sea ran crimson that day. Without a word, Eanswith left the stunned and trembling ncs behind to fend for themselves.


    The members of n nc were the first to survive and tell the tale of the carnage unleashed by one of the Elizabeths of the Raynor n. From that day forward, n nc became a subordinate to the Raynor n¡ªa status they have maintained to this day.


    Though history changed many times... wars came and went, the Raynors even fought in the World Wars... n nc remained their only subordinate n. That never changed.


    It is all written in the records of n nc. Every child learns it growing up: that their very existence was owed to the Raynor n¡¯s mercy and power... and that even the gentle, schrly Raynors could be terrifying forces of nature when provoked.


    ***


    In the grand hall of the n head¡¯s vi, Dominic nc and a few others were deep in discussion regarding the uing marriage. It had already been finalised that the main ceremony would be held at the nc Estate, with invitations extended only to members of supernatural races.


    This, however, presented a challenge.


    Both Raphael and La had good rtionships with some of their human co-workers, and excluding them entirely would cause difort and disappointment. After a lengthy discussion, they agreed to host a smaller, separate event a day before the official marriage ceremony.


    Raphael¡¯s mother, Juliette nc, supported the decision. During her time working at Heimdall Tower, she had also developed friendships with several co-workers... Teresa, Lily, and Maya were among them. It was ultimately decided that, following La¡¯s turning ritual, they would take a week to prepare, then obtain a legal human marriage certificate and host a modest ceremony in Manchester. Juliette would take responsibility for organising that event.


    The main wedding, held exclusively for the supernatural guests, would take ce the following day under the direct supervision of n Head Dominic nc.

 Chapter 185: Clan Blanc’s Turning Ritual

    <h4>Chapter 185: n nc¡¯s Turning Ritual</h4>


    The moon stood directly above the estate... full, white, and watchful... suspended like a celestial judge. Midnight had arrived. The air was dense with stillness. It was not windless, but even the breeze moved with reverence.


    The nc n¡¯s estate was no crumbling relic of nobility... it was a living legacy, centuries old yet immactely preserved. Its grand vis, nestled within the ancient woonds of the north, bore the weight of bloodlines that had survived kings and empires. The n head¡¯s vi, thergest and most secluded, stood beyond a vast circr garden. Stone pathways divided rows of meticulously maintained hedges and perennial blooms, shaped by invisible hands into elegant geometry.


    Tonight, that cultivated beauty concealed a ritual older than any human text... buried beneath years of deliberate design and generational secrecy. Between beds of foxglove, hellebores, meadowsweet, and white roses, something ancient slumbered. Not even the estate¡¯s gardeners would notice the symmetry beneath the soil ... unless they witnessed it before. The garden, curated through generations, had long been prepared for this sacred asion. Yet to the untrained eye, it was nothing more than a tranquil disy of floral perfection.


    A crowd had gathered just beyond the garden¡¯s outer wall... n members, elders, and descendants, all cloaked in silence. No one dared to speak. The Turning Ritual was rare, sacred... and dangerous. Not all who entered its binding light returned as wolf.


    Those chosen from the nc n to participate in the ritual stood still to a side, each draped in ceremonial ck robes, breaths held... as if the very act of exhaling might disturb the delicate bnce of the night.


    From beneath the vi¡¯s great stone arch, Juliette nc emerged. Her figure was ghostlike in the gentle light of the moon. Her ceremonial robe, close-fitted and ck, was inscribed with veins of glimmering gold sigils that shimmered subtly with each breath. Behind her walked La Monroe.


    La¡¯s steps were steady, but tension coiled in her form... shoulders held too tight, eyes locked too firmly forward. Her own ck robe trailed behind her, its golden runes glowing faintly, like a secretnguage known only to the old blood. Her face was pale... not from fear, but from solemn resolve. Even so, her breath trembled visibly in the moonlight. She said nothing. None of the witnesses did. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.


    Juliette led her across the garden¡¯s central path and into the very heart of the circr space.


    There, at the centre, stood the stone tform... a wless b of pale granite, carved from a single block and set within a ring of clipped grass and white blossoms. The stone bore no symbols, no etchings... but every member of the n knew: this was where the Veil thinned.


    La stepped forward andy down without prompting. Still wearing the robe, the golden runes ring briefly beneath the moonlight before being swallowed by shadow.


    With practiced care, Juliette bound her wrists and ankles to the stone using cords of dyed wool... deep red, threaded with ck and silver, each braid entwined with a lock of hair from the matriarchal line.


    From a leather sheath at her waist, Juliette drew the ritual dagger. The de, aged and darkened, bore engravings in the Old Tongue... ancient prayers etched along its edge. Without hesitation, she cut cleanly across both of La¡¯s palms. Blood welled up... thick, dark, and gleaming... and dripped slowly onto the stone beneath her.


    Juliette stepped away, her robes rustling faintly as she crossed the flowered path and joined the silent spectators beyond the garden wall.


    Then, as if summoned by the scent of blood, the twenty chosen n members stepped forward. They had not been selected for status, but for the awakening of an ancestral bloodline... those who bore the rare ability to wield shadow. They moved with quiet discipline, eyes glowing in unnatural hues, and formed a perfect circle around the garden¡¯s edge at even intervals. Each stopped precisely where they had been instructed. All remained in human form, d in ceremonial robes. One by one, they knelt around the circle, facing the stone tform at its centre.


    Then, from the far side of the courtyard, Dominic nc stepped into view.


    Tall and unbowed by time, the head of the nc n wore the long, ck ceremonial coat of the alpha line. His jet-ck hair shimmered beneath the moonlight. He walked slowly toward the circle, every step heavy with purpose. When he reached the garden¡¯s far edge, he stopped, then knelt like the others... bing the final point of the ring.


    No one made a sound.


    Only the faint hum of the distant air could be heard.


    Dominic raised one hand towards the moon and began to intone, his voice low butmanding, reciting the ancient words in the Old Tongue... words meant to summon the Goddess¡¯s gaze. Thenguage grated against the soul, harsh and metallic, like steel dragged across ss. Every head turned instinctively upward toward the moon.


    "Be thaere haligan monan leoman,


    Blodes bendas us bindath,


    We clypiath that Heaheage Eage.


    Tonihte, esc bith tobrocen,


    Sawol bith todaled.


    And an bith edboren."


    The moonlight sharpened... growing heavier, denser. The pale glow no longer felt passive; it became a presence.


    From within the folds of his robe, Dominic drew out a green stone, smooth and pulsating faintly like a living heart. He knelt and ced it gently upon the grass before him.


    The moment the stone touched the earth, he spoke again.


    "Let that blod awan thone weg."


    Without hesitation, he extended his hand and sliced open his palm. His blood flowed down, dark and steady, falling upon the stone. One by one, the twenty members surrounding the circle followed suit, cutting their own palms and allowing their blood to drip onto the invisible boundary encircling the ritual space.


    The instant Dominic¡¯s blood met the stone, it ignited. A deep green light red to life... not in an explosion, but in a blooming. Lines of light raced outward through the grass in both directions, travelling along unseen channels hidden beneath the soil.


    The pattern revealed itself.


    The circle became visible... a vast rune etched in living light, stretching from the outer ring to the tform¡¯s very edge. The garden came alive with glowing veins... circles, lines, intersecting arcs and sweeping loops... all pulsing with deep green luminescence. What had been a tranquil garden was now transformed into a cathedral of power.


    From above, the view would have resembled a gigantic sigil of transformation... drawn with the symmetry of sacred architecture, and the hunger of a predator.


    The green light reached the base of the tform and curved inward, forming a second circle around La. Then, a dome of pure emerald light rose from the inner ring without warning, encasing the tform, and shot straight upwards into the sky.


    Suddenly, La let out an ear-piercing scream. The sound of something breaking echoed from within. Her figure was no longer visible from outside the dome, but her screaming continued... sharp, primal, and relentless.


    Then, the green light began to shift. Slowly, it started turning white from above. Beginning at the dome¡¯s crown, the transformation swept downward. As it moved, the air grew hotter, denser... almost suffocating. La¡¯s cries turned into ragged, feral howls.


    When the emerald dome had fully turned to white, it glowed with such brilliance that it became almost unbearable to look at. The spectators shielded their eyes as the intensity peaked.


    Then, La¡¯s screaming ceased abruptly. Silence fell around the courtyard.


    The white light, fully descended now, lingered over the dome for several long, frozen heartbeats. Then, it began to retrace its path... flowing backward along the rune-lines, retreating from the tform, pouring through the crisscrossing channels, all the way to the circle¡¯s outer edge.


    To everyone¡¯s surprise, the light reached the green stone from both directions at the same moment. The instant it made contact, the stone shattered into powder. A faint gust of wind caught the dust and carried it skyward, where it vanished.


    The rune-light faded. Slowly, it dissolved into nothingness. Only the pale light of the moon remained over the courtyard. The tform became visible again.


    At the centre of the tform, a ck wolfy motionless. There was no sign of La, no trace of the girl who had stepped into the circle. Only the unmoving form of the wolf remained, as still as death.


    Dominic nc stood from his kneeling position. He stared at the tform for a long moment, then let out a quiet sigh of relief.


    The other n members who had formed the circle also rose. They looked pale, drained, their breathing unsteady... as if they had just emerged from a long and exhausting battle.


    Dominic turned towards the gathered crowd nearby and spoke in a firm voice.


    "Only the females may remain. All the boys... leave the courtyard. Juliette, I leave everything in your hands."


    He turned and walked slowly towards his vi. The other males followed without a word, departing in silence. A few women chose to go with them, but most remained.


    Juliette nc walked slowly towards the tform. She knelt beside the ck wolf and began untying the cords that bound its limbs to the stone. Then she removed the tattered ceremonial robe draped across its body.


    From within her own robes, she retrieved a silver bottle and uncorked it carefully. She sprinkled the contents... an iridescent liquid... over the wolf¡¯s body.


    Before the eyes of the remaining witnesses, the wolf began to shift. Part by part, the fur receded, the limbs reshaped, the bones shifted... the ck wolf transformed back into La.


    As she stirred and regained consciousness, she tried to stand... apparently unaware of her nakedness. Juliette was ready. She drew another ck robe from within her garments and gently draped it over La¡¯s shoulders the moment she rose.


    Then, cing a steadying hand on her shoulder, Juliette guided her away from the stone tform, out of the garden, and led her to a nearby vi.

 Chapter 186: The Shape of What Was

    <h4>Chapter 186: The Shape of What Was</h4>


    La¡¯s turning ritual was sessful without any problems. Although there was always a chance of failure... of nevering out alive from such a ritual. But physical condition, personal beliefs, and mental fortitude gave a greater chance of survival. Eleanor had been confident about La¡¯s sess, but she became slightly worried when the white light descended and La let out an ear-piercing cry.


    This was the first time Eleanor had observed a turning ritual. Although she herself had been turned, it had happened under very different circumstances. At that time, she hadn¡¯t been thinking clearly. Whatever life presented in front of her, she simply epted it... without questions, without resistance.


    She had been kidnapped and brutally raped. Then came the pregnancy, clearly from one of the kidnappers. Her boyfriend had broken up with her. She was devastated, utterly shattered, teetering on the edge of ending her life.


    And when she learned that all her misfortunes were orchestrated by her family and boyfriend... and that they were nning to kill her, it was all over. Her entire world copsed in that single moment.


    She didn¡¯t even know why she fled from home that day. Maybe she wanted to live. Maybe something else had stirred inside her. Even now, with her evolved memories when she was able to recall her childhood with painful rity... she still couldn¡¯t say for sure what had pushed her to run.


    When the ident happened on the road, she¡¯d felt... relieved. She had thought her suffering would finally end. She had epted death as her escape.


    Then she woke up. Ethan had brought her to his home. She was still alive... but inside, she had already died. So, when Selene told her she would not survive without being turned, she didn¡¯t care. She didn¡¯t want to live. She didn¡¯t even react when Ethan revealed he was a werewolf.


    She still remembered that dream of the unborn baby, of its pitiful cry. That vision changed everything. That child¡¯s imagined voice gave her the courage to live. She reminded herself constantly: she wasn¡¯t living for herself anymore. She was living for the baby.


    She went through the turning with that sole purpose. Whatever Ethan, Selene, or Fiona asked, she followed. Many things were left unexined. Some instructions contradicted each other. But she didn¡¯t care. She endured all of it... for the baby.


    By the time she was fully turned and began thinking clearly, days had passed. Her bloodline had already awakened. She had stepped onto a path she never chose... but one she walked nheless.


    Now, thinking back, she wondered: if she had been in her right mind, would she have chosen to be turned?


    Maybe she would have. Maybe not. But she would have asked questions first.


    Turning by an Alpha¡¯s bite was considered extremely dangerous. The chances of survival were so low that unless it was absolutely necessary, no one attempted it. Her condition had been so dire that Ethan believed the risk of turning was less than the certainty of death.


    But, somehow, what had happened turned out for the best. Her life now was good. The Raynors were good to her. She had Freya... And Ethan.


    A rare smile crept across Eleanor¡¯s lips as she leaned against the seat. Under the fleeting streetlight, no one saw it. Her convoy sped through the quiet midnight road toward her vi.


    "Freya might already be asleep," she thought, and opened her eyes to see how long it would take to reach home. She looked outside the window.


    Outside her window, the world whispered in silver and shadow. Pools of streemp glow formed golden halos along the roadside, casting a surreal shimmer over the foliage. Trees stood like silent sentinels, their limbs half-draped in darkness, half-kissed by light, as though the night itself couldn¡¯t decide whether to conceal or reveal.


    A fine mist clung to the ground, thin as silk, rising off the heath that bordered the walkway. It drifted in slow, sleepy waves, catching the light like breath in winter. The sky hung vast and ancient above her... dotted with scattered stars that blinked like distant thoughts... eternal, and indifferent.


    She pressed her fingers lightly against the cool ss. The world beyond was still and open, yet it pulsed with a hidden life, a secret rhythm that only those who truly watched could sense.


    She imagined the lives flickering in silence... strangers asleep behind quiet windows, foxes darting between hedges, wind carrying forgotten words over the fields. And above all that, the night wore its silence like a crown.


    Eleanor breathed in slowly. A thin smile traced her lips... not one of joy, but of recognition. Of understanding. The road didn¡¯t ask who she was. It didn¡¯t care where she had been. It simply stretched forward, offering space. And in that space... there was freedom. A calm, almost sacred detachment.


    "Perhaps everything is like this," she thought. "We think we¡¯re moving toward something... home, meaning, closure... but maybe we are simply meant to witness the passing scenes. Like actors who realise toote that the y was never about them."


    A lone car passed in the oppositene, its lights carving a brief, blinding arc through her reality before vanishing into the night.


    "A few minutes more..." she thought, and closed her eyes again.


    ***


    Times had be extremely difficult for the Whitmore family. When William Whitmore returned home from the hospital, he found the Whitmore Estate surrounded by a team of security guards. A few uniformed police officers stood at the gate, supervising the situation.


    After identifying himself, William was informed that the estate was legally owned by Esmeralda Langford, and had officially reverted to the Langford family. As the former Chairman of EverBuild Solutions Limited, William had been residing there, but the family had now transferred residence rights to thepany¡¯s new CEO. The guards had been dispatched by thepany to secure the premises.


    The Langfords had filed a court application requesting possession of the estate. The court had granted their request, ordering William and his family to vacate the property within seven days. They were permitted to take personal belongings... but only in the presence of police, who would verify ownership of all items being removed.


    William had anticipated this eventuality once he lost control of EverBuild. He was still in his senses enough not to challenge an Earl¡¯s im on kingdom soil with forged documents.


    Once the police granted him ess, he found the estate staff cowering in fear. Learning that no one had actually entered the premises but only stood guard, gave him some relief.


    Already resolved to leave the country and having suffered far greater losses, William felt no grief over losing the estate. He went to his bedroom and contacted a solicitor friend, exining the situation and requesting an urgent visit.


    Then, moving to his study, he destroyed all sensitive documents, gathered the paperwork rted to his properties into a single folder, and drafted a list of assets he could sell. He immediately called Mr Sanders.


    Fortunately, Sanders agreed to act as the mediator in selling the remaining properties. He asked no questions about the estate and confirmed that he would bring a prospective buyer the following day. The conversation lifted William¡¯s mood slightly.


    Next, he packed all bank records, gold, diamond jewellery, and other valuables into his personal vault.


    Later, he gathered the estate staff in the drawing room, paid their outstanding wages in cash, and asked them to stay away for a few days. He told them there was an ownership dispute regarding the house and that he would call them once it was resolved.


    The staff departed quietly with their belongings. None of them wished to be caught in a power struggle between the wealthy.


    Shortly after, William¡¯s solicitor friend arrived. William exined everything. Together, they went to speak with the police on duty. The officers presented the court order, and after some discussion, William understood his options. Apart from the vi itself and fixed furniture, he was permitted to take any personal possessions that could be proven as his own.


    The solicitor advised him to rent a temporary residence and move out as soon as possible. But William informed him he had another furnished vi in his hands, that he would move there. He didn¡¯t want the news of his departure to spread just yet.


    Thanking his friend, he headed straight to the hospital with the documents rted to his seble assets.


    Upon learning what had happened, Jeanne was livid. She cursed the ancestors of the Langford family with venom.


    Jennifer, in contrast, remainedposed.


    "Calm down, Mum," she said. "If you break down over something like this, how are we going to survive what¡¯sing? Look at me... I¡¯m being torn apart online. The whole inte¡¯s calling me names I never imagined. We¡¯ve already lived far above our means... on Esmeralda¡¯s wealth, no less. It¡¯s only natural that the Langfords would be angry. I doubt this is the end of it. We should leave the kingdom as soon as possible."


    William added, "Mr Sanders said he¡¯ll bring a buyer tomorrow. He also agreed to purchase your shares at the same premium he gave me. If everything goes well, by tomorrow evening we¡¯ll have converted all our properties into cash."


    Jennifer nodded. "Dad, we own three cars. Add them to the list."


    "I¡¯ve already contacted the dealership," William replied. "They¡¯ll take them back tomorrow."


    Jeanne frowned. "If we sell all the cars, how will we move?"


    "Mum, you¡¯re just too used to a certain lifestyle," Jennifer said. "We can use Uber if needed. Besides, if everything goes smoothly tomorrow, we¡¯ll leave the kingdom the day after. Once we¡¯re in the US, you can buy the same model of car again."


    Jeanne turned to William. "What about my jewellery?"


    "I n to sell it and take the cash to the US," William replied. "If we travel with it, we might run into tax issues."


    "He¡¯s right," said Jennifer. "Other than our clothes and whatever we can easily carry, everything else should be liquidated. We can ess our bank ounts abroad easily. A full transfer will be smoother."


    It was well past midnight. The hospital, except for the emergency wing, had settled into silence. But in their private room, the three members of the Whitmore family sat wide awake... nning their escape, and grasping for a future in the ruins of their past.

 Chapter 187: Livia Asked for Help

    <h4>Chapter 187: Livia Asked for Help</h4>


    The next day, Bernie Sanders met William Whitmore as promised. He brought along a buyer who agreed to purchase all thend owned by the Whitmore family. The holdings weren¡¯t extensive, and the final amount wasn¡¯t significant, but after a sessful round of negotiations, both parties proceeded with the documentation.


    At the hospital, Jennifer also finalised the sale of her remaining shares in EverBuild to Bernie. Fortunately, he had close ties with a brokerage firm and managed to arrange for a broker toe directly to the hospital. With the necessary transfer forms signed and stamp duty paid, the transaction waspleted by the end of the day.


    In the meantime, the Whitmore family sold off all their remaining possessions. All the proceeds were deposited into Jeanne¡¯s bank ount. They had discussed the decision thoroughly and concluded that, should anyone bear them ill intentions, Jeanne was the least likely to be targeted.


    Later that evening, the doctors informed them that Jennifer would be fit for discharge the following day. They decided to spend a night at a hotel and then quietly leave the kingdom two dayster.


    However, they chose not to disclose their ns to anyone... not even to extended family or James¡¯s rtives. The decision to leave the kingdom would be kept entirely secret. Their departure would be silent and without farewell.


    ***


    Ethan picked up Freya from school that day. Eleanor had been upied in herb for the entire day. These days were more exhausting than usual for her, as she was now racing against a deadline toplete her project. The npetition had already begun, and soon, she would have to join the winners at Kvernheim to attend the academy.


    There were manyponents to her project, each assigned to a different team. Every team had a final objective, and all were working diligently to meet their targets ording to the revised timeline.


    But the most crucial part was integrating all the separate parts into one coherent whole. Eleanor refused to delegate that responsibility. She feared that, in the wrong hands, this knowledge could be catastrophic. That final integration, the heart of the project, she wouldplete herself... no matter howplex or burdensome it became.


    That evening, Eleanor stepped out of herb and exited the office. Teresa, Maya, and the others had already left. A few remained in the tech division, still engrossed in their work.


    Without paying them much mind, she walked straight to the parking area, climbed into her car, and headed home.


    She leaned her head back against the seat, eyes closed, fatigue creeping over her limbs. At that moment, her phone vibrated. She nced down... it was her school friend Livia Greyson, the owner of Beyond morous, the styling studio she asionally visited before parties.


    It surprised her. Livia had never called her before. Every previous time, it had been Eleanor reaching out.


    She answered the call, and Livia¡¯s anxious voice came through immediately, "Eleanor, I need your help. I don¡¯t know any powerful person other than you, so I called you straight away."


    Eleanor replied calmly, "Take a breath. Start from the beginning. Are you in trouble? I¡¯ll do my best to help... just tell me what happened."


    Liviaposed herself a little. "It¡¯s not me... it¡¯s my friend. Do you remember Georgia Doyle? From school?"


    Ordinarily, Eleanor wouldn¡¯t have remembered such a peripheral figure. But ever since her bloodline awakened, her memory had be wless. The name conjured up an image at once: a timid girl with a ponytail who always sat quietly at the back of their primary school ssroom.


    "I remember her," Eleanor said. "She was in our ss... shy and soft-spoken."


    "Yes, that¡¯s her! Thank God you remember. After school, I was probably the only one who kept in contact with her. Georgia¡¯s inws have her captive right now. She told me it¡¯s something to do with money. Her phone has been confiscated and switched off. Somehow, she got hold of another phone and called me for help. But she couldn¡¯t say much before someone noticed. I heard shouting... someone hit her and took the phone. That number¡¯s been off since."


    Livia paused to catch her breath, then continued, "Eleanor, I think she¡¯s in real danger. She sounded desperate. I¡¯ve got a few wealthy clients I could try contacting, but I don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll help. That¡¯s why I called you. If you could help her... I¡¯d owe you for life."


    Eleanor sighed, "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll help. Georgia was a ssmate, and that bond doesn¡¯t vanish just because we weren¡¯t close. More importantly... you asked me."


    She paused, then said, "Now listen... send me her mobile number, her address, anything you¡¯ve got. Also, the number she used to call for help. Where are you now?"


    "I¡¯m at my shop," Livia replied.


    "Good. Text me the details. I¡¯m on my way to you. Get ready... you¡¯reing with me to get Georgia."


    Eleanor ended the call without waiting for a response. She immediately instructed her driver to head to Rochdale Road, where Beyond morous was located.


    The driver ryed the destination to the convoy. They had been there several times before, so they knew exactly where to go.


    Ophelia nc had flown to Switzend to participate in thepetition, so Isadora was riding in the passenger seat beside the driver.


    Eleanor said, "Isadora, I think Sebastian is in the convoy. The others should be resting at the vi. Contact all the shadow guards. I¡¯ll pick them up from the vi area."


    Isadora ryed the message immediately.


    A couple of minutester, Livia¡¯s message arrived. Eleanor forwarded it to her USmand centre without dy.


    Then she called the on-duty officer. "I¡¯ve sent you a message. I need to locate these numbers or the person linked to them. It¡¯s urgent... the individual might be in mortal danger."


    She waited calmly for the response.


    Roughly five minutester, a message appeared on her screen, apanied by geolocation data.


    "Both numbers werest active in the same area. One went offline three days ago, the other around half an hour ago."


    Eleanor opened the map on her phone and pinned the coordinates. The signal led her to 53 to 57 Briggs Avenue of South Bank, Middlesbrough, in the county of Clevnd.


    After marking the location, she sent another message:


    "I believe someone is being held captive at this address. Can I get assistance from the police?"


    The reply didn¡¯te in text form. Instead, her phone rang. She answered.


    The voice on the other end said, "Middlesbrough is a high-crime area with serious social deprivation... frequent violent offences, anti-social behaviour, drug activity, and criminal damage. It also ranks among the highest in the country for domestic abuse and knife crime. Gang activity is rampant. Firearms are rare, but the police are practically useless there. Worse, they might even work against you. You should handle them first."


    Eleanor replied, "Check the profiles of the local police. How do I manage them?"


    "Wait... Yes. Bribery is your best bet. Several officers in that area have been previously charged with corruption and drug-rted offences."


    "What about the gangs?" she asked.


    "Standard gang turf. You can rough them up if needed... no one will blink. As long as no one dies, the police won¡¯t bother opening a case."


    "Understood. Be ready to wipe surveince data once we activate the ry device," Eleanor instructed.


    "Yes, Ma¡¯am," came the crisp reply, and she ended the call.


    They arrived at Beyond morous not long after. From a distance, Eleanor spotted Livia pacing anxiously outside her shop, ncing frequently at the road and checking her phone every few seconds.


    Eleanor rolled down the window and called out, "Get in."


    Livia¡¯s eyes lit up. She rushed to the car and slipped into the passenger seat. "Thank God you came."


    "We¡¯re going to Middlesbrough," Eleanor informed her. "You can let your family know."


    Livia blinked, surprised. "Did you contact the police? What did they say?"


    Eleanor smiled slightly. "You don¡¯t need to worry about that. Do you have a recent photo of Georgia?"


    "Not exactly recent... She visited Manchester five years ago. Will that do?"


    "It should be enough. Send it to me," Eleanor replied.


    Once the photo was received, she forwarded it to Isadora and said, "We¡¯re going to rescue this girl. Ask ric to bring one million pounds in cash from Teresa¡¯s vi. Tell your team to be ready... we won¡¯t be staying at the vi for long."


    "Understood, Ma¡¯am," Isadora replied.


    The convoy elerated, veering off the main road as they made their way back to the vi. About twenty minutester, they reached the estate grounds.


    Livia looked around and froze as she noticed the armed guards patrolling the perimeter like a fortified military base. Her eyes flicked to Eleanor, then back to the guards. A chill crept down her spine. She suddenly realised that she knew far less about Eleanor than she thought.


    She had heard Eleanor was rich and owned a sessfulpany... but this? This was something else entirely.

 Chapter 188: The Life of Georgia Doyle

    <h4>Chapter 188: The Life of Georgia Doyle</h4>


    As her convoy came to a halt in front of the vi, Eleanor turned to Livia. "Stay in the car," she said, before stepping out and heading inside.


    She went straight to Freya¡¯s room, where Ethan and Freya were ying together as usual. When the door opened, both of them looked up.


    "Mummy, you¡¯re toote. Daddy and I had afternoon snacks without you," Freya said as she ran towards her and hugged.


    "Sorry, sweetie. I had a lot of work at the office," Eleanor replied.


    Then, looking at Ethan, she said, "Ethan, a friend of mine¡¯s in some sort of trouble. I need to head to Middlesbrough immediately. Please stay with Freya. I might bete."


    Ethan¡¯s expression turned serious. "Do you need help?"


    "No," Eleanor said firmly. "It¡¯s nothing major. And I¡¯ll be taking the full security team with me."


    "All right," he nodded. "But call me if anything happens."


    "I will."


    Turning to Freya, Eleanor added, "Be a good girl and finish your homework for tomorrow. Daddy will help you, okay?"


    "Okay, Mummy. But who¡¯s in trouble? Aunt Teresa? Or Aunt Livia?"


    "Her name is Georgia. You don¡¯t know her. Don¡¯t worry... I¡¯ll be back soon."


    She left the room, closing the door gently behind her, and returned to her car. Her shadow team was already waiting beside the vehicle.


    "Ma¡¯am," said Sebastian, "Isadora said we¡¯re rescuing a woman. Why do we need the money, then?"


    "There might be a fight," Eleanor replied. "The area has a record of serious crime... frequent violence, anti-social behaviour. A gang fight is possible. If ites to that, the police may side with the locals. We¡¯ll need to contain the situation at the station. We can use force, but I¡¯d prefer to solve things with money."


    She turned to Isadora. "Divide the cash into ten boxes... one hundred thousand in each."


    Isadora moved to the rear of Eleanor¡¯s car and began sorting the money. The other guards helped her, except Sebastian, who stayed back.


    "What¡¯s the n, Ma¡¯am?" he asked.


    Eleanor answered, "The location is less than ten minutes walk from Clevnd Police South Bank station. We¡¯ll park the vehicles outside the station and establish it as a temporary base. With cash and arms as leverage, I expect their full cooperation. I already have the full profile of the officers on duty... it should be manageable."


    She paused, then continued, "You and your team will not enter the station. You¡¯ll go directly to the location and confirm the status of the captive. Once you secure her, you will stay in position until the security team arrives. Once they¡¯ve taken over the perimeter, you will extract the captive. Hopefully, our presence will intimidate them enough to avoid violence. But if they fight, you¡¯re authorised to use non-lethal force. No fatalities. No injuries to our team or the captive... understood?"


    Sebastian nodded. "Understood. But once the team goes for the extraction, won¡¯t you be alone at the station?"


    "Don¡¯t worry. Isadora will be with me. Besides, they¡¯ll be too busy counting money to think about anything else," Eleanor replied with a slight curl of her lips.


    By then, the other shadow team members had finished sorting the money and returned.


    "Isadora, take two boxes with you. We¡¯ll need themter," Eleanor instructed.


    "Yes, Ma¡¯am." Isadora collected the boxes from the boot.


    "Let¡¯s move. Sebastian, activate the ry device. I want all traces of this mission wiped."


    "Yes, Ma¡¯am," he said, heading to his own car.


    Soon, nine ck Range Rovers rolled out, headed for South Bank, Middlesbrough, in the county of Clevnd.


    Inside the vehicle, Livia had overheard most of the conversation. The driver had kept his window down to listen in, and Livia was left stunned. She hadn¡¯t been told exactly what was happening to Georgia, but now she could guess... it was serious. Eleanor wasn¡¯t just nning a rescue... she was preparing for war, even going so far as to dismiss the role of the police entirely.


    How had Georgia ended up in a situation like this? Livia couldn¡¯tprehend it. She¡¯d always thought Eleanor was wealthy and sessful... but this level of power, the military precision, the armed escort... it was all deeply unfamiliar. Alien, even.


    And yet, she felt grateful. If a confrontation was truly necessary to save Georgia, then none of her other contacts could have done anything. She felt fortunate that Eleanor had been her ssmate... and that she¡¯d answered her call for help. Still, beneath that gratitude, there was a gnawing sense of fear. Eleanor now seemed distant... one of her own, but dangerous. Like a force of nature. It was a strange mix of awe and dread that Livia couldn¡¯t quite define.


    Lost in her thoughts, she was startled when Eleanor spoke again.


    "I didn¡¯t know much about Georgia, to be honest. She was in our ss, yes... but she always kept her distance. Quiet. Timid. I barely ever spoke to her. Do you know what¡¯s happened to her to end up like this?"


    Livia snapped out of her reverie and began to recount what she knew of Georgia¡¯s life since school... everything she could remember.


    Their convoy sped past Rochdale, Huddersfield, Leeds, Harrogate, and into Hambleton, approaching the grim heart of North Yorkshire.


    ***


    Georgia¡¯s family came from the Hartlepool port town area. Her father had worked at the Evonik Chemicals factory in Manchester, which was why her family had been living there and why she had attended school with Eleanor. Her education had been funded by council support, as their household ie had fallen below the qualifying threshold.


    She had always felt inferior to others due to her family¡¯s financial struggles. That insecurity had made her timid and withdrawn, avoiding conversations with her ssmates. The same self-doubt had also affected her studies; she struggled in her ss exams and rarely stood out academically.


    Her father passed away while she was still in secondary school. At the time, she would often cry in the school bathroom in secret. It was Livia who supported her through that difficult period. They had be close then... bonded by their shared hardships, as Livia¡¯s family wasn¡¯t much better off. Though Eleanor had been in the same school and friends with Livia, she had remained unaware of any of this.


    After her father¡¯s death, Georgia¡¯s mother started working, allowing her daughter to continue her education in Manchester through continued council support. However, Georgia didn¡¯t pursue A-levels after her GCSEs. She needed to start working early to support her family, so she enrolled in BTEC courses.


    Uponpleting her BTEC diploma in IT, Georgia and her mother moved back to Hartlepool, settling in herte father¡¯s ancestral home. There, she took a job at a local firm in the port area as an IT support technician.


    It was there she met a colleague from the electrical division. They fell in love and got married. Her husband, originally from Middlesbrough, moved into Georgia¡¯s home. They had a son, who is now enrolled in boarding school. Given that their area wasn¡¯t ideal for raising a child, they decided to send him away for better care and education.


    Two years ago, Georgia¡¯s mother passed away after a prolonged illness. During that time, she had frequently phoned Livia... who had also known her mother, and they¡¯d spoken often.


    Everything changed a few months ago. Georgia¡¯s husband died suddenly in a workce ident. Hispany, thankfully, had been decent and provided apensation payout that exceeded government regtions. Still, losing both her husband and her family¡¯s main ie source had thrown Georgia into disarray.


    Around that time, she had reached out to Livia again. They¡¯d spoken about her situation... her fears for the future, especially her son¡¯s schooling, which was bing increasingly expensive. Georgia had even considered selling her house to continue affording the boarding school fees. At one point, she mentioned the idea of moving back to Manchester.


    That was thest time they¡¯d spoken in any depth.


    For nearly a week, Georgia didn¡¯t call. Livia had assumed she was simply overwhelmed or busy. But everything changed when she received Georgia¡¯s desperate call for help.


    ***


    It took the convoy nearly two hours to reach the corner of Normanby Road and Hampden Street, where the Clevnd Police South Bank Station stood. It was a two-storey red-and-white building with a blue-painted gate.


    What stood out most were the security cameras above the gate, each encased in protective iron cages... a sight Eleanor had never seen in other areas of the kingdom. It was a clear sign of the area¡¯s high crime rate. Even the police here feared being robbed.


    Isadora stepped out first, pushing open the ss front door. She held it for Eleanor and Livia, who followed. Behind them, the security team filed in one by one... each d in ck uniform, armed with Heckler & Koch MP5s.


    A young female constable at the reception desk straightened instinctively, her eyes going wide at the sight of the armed guards. Before she could press the rm or even speak, one of Eleanor¡¯s guards aimed his weapon at her head and said, in a slow, deliberate tone:


    "Hands up. Make no sound. Do not move. You know what¡¯s good for you."


    She froze in ce, paralysed with shock. It took her several seconds to fully grasp what was happening. When she finally raised her hands, her eyes darted to the other officers... only to see each one of them already held at gunpoint.


    The security team operated like clockwork. In under a minute, they had taken full control of the entire front desk and surrounding area.


    Isadora moved ahead of Eleanor, knowing precisely where to go. Eleanor followed without a word. Livia, nearly trembling with anxiety, instinctively kept close behind them.


    They walked in silence down the stark corridor. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly. Room doors passed by on either side: Interview Room 3, Evidence Storage, Holding 2...


    Isadora stopped before a door marked: INSPECTOR G. REYNOLDS.


    Without knocking, she pushed it open and held it for Eleanor to enter.


    Inside, Inspector Reynolds looked up from behind a desk cluttered with paperwork. His gaze narrowed instantly at the intrusion. The office was a mess of open folders, crime maps riddled with pins and red string, and a flickering desktop monitor nearly buried under Post-it notes.


    Eleanor walked in calmly, like she owned the room. She pulled out the chair across from the inspector, sat down with gracefulposure, and crossed her legs. She smoothed thepel of her coat and met his gaze directly.


    "Could you have someone bring me a cup of coffee?" she asked, voice cool and level. "I came straight from work. I need one badly. Oh! Please make it ck. No sugar."

 Chapter 189: A Law-Abiding Citizen

    <h4>Chapter 189: A Law-Abiding Citizen</h4>


    Constable Faith had only recently joined Clevnd Police. Afterpleting her training, South Bank became her first posting. Though the crime rate in the area was notoriously high, criminal activities generally happened in the shadows. The local gangs followed a peculiar norm... they avoided the station itself. Despite the frequent violence and disorder in the neighbourhood, only those who truly sought help ever came through the station doors.


    Her colleagues were kind to her, and, understanding her inexperience, had assigned her to the front desk duty to help her familiarise herself with how things worked here. In South Bank, patrolling was a delicate affair: officers had to maintainw and order without provoking the local gangs, all while preserving their authority asw enforcement.


    That night, Faith sat behind the reception desk just as she had many nights before. Thiste in the evening, only the desperate tended toe seeking help. Her task was simple... record their identities and direct them to the appropriate desk.


    When she saw a young woman push open the ss door, she assumed she was there to report some robbery or harassment. The woman wore a ck outfit that resembled a biker¡¯s attire, along with a ck face mask. Yet her exposed pale and smooth facial skin, and the confident glint in her eyes, suggested she was a strikingly beautiful woman. Her athletic frame revealed she was no helpless civilian... but in South Bank, even strength could be overwhelmed.


    Then, to Faith¡¯s surprise, the woman held the door open, and another woman entered... this one in a purple business suit, her face uncovered. She was stunning. For a brief moment, Faith stared in silent admiration. "If I weren¡¯t a woman myself," she thought, "I might¡¯ve asked this one out right now."


    A third woman followed, and Faith assumed they¡¯d alle to file some report.


    But then the nightmare began.


    Two armed men strode in behind them, followed by several more... each d in ck, carrying heavy firearms. To Faith, they looked more like soldiers than criminals.


    She froze, her mind racing. "Should I press the rm? Should I scream?" Her mind raced. But they gave her no chance to decide. One of the ck-d men pointed his gun directly at her head.


    "Hands up. Make no sound. Do not move. You know what¡¯s good for you."


    It was the first time Faith had stared down the barrel of a gun. Her heart thudded violently in her chest. It took her nearly a full minute to process the reality. Slowly, she raised her hands, showing she was no threat.


    From the corner of her eye, she nced across the ground hall... every officer present was already at gunpoint.


    "Who are these people?" she thought. "Are they special forces? Or has the station truly been overtaken?"


    The first three women... who¡¯d initially seemed like civilians, were escorted directly to the Inspector¡¯s office by two armed guards who stood watch outside. That, at least, gave Faith a flicker of hope. If they¡¯re going straight to the Inspector, perhaps they¡¯re not a gang. Maybe this is some kind of secret operation.


    But her hope quickly vanished.


    The armed men disarmed the entire station, seizing every weapon in the building, and then ordered all the officers to the meeting room. The muzzles of their guns never dropped. They forced each officer to sit around therge, round table.


    There were fifteen chairs in the room, but only seven officers were present during the current shift. Once everyone was seated, one of the intruders demanded they ce all their electronic devices on the table. A basket was passed around, and the devices were promptly collected and left outside the room.


    Faithplied without hesitation, cing both her work and personal mobiles in the basket.


    One of her fellow officers, however, tried to hide a phone in his pocket.


    The intruders weren¡¯t fooled.


    They retrieved the scanner from the front desk, ran it over the room, and caught the hidden signal immediately. They marched up to him and without a word... delivered two vicious ps that echoed around the room. The sound was so sharp, Faith winced. Everyone else visibly flinched.


    Now there was no doubt in her mind: they were hostages.


    All the procedures from her training rushed into her memory... how to rescue hostages, how to de-escte threats. But no one had ever trained her on what to do when she was the hostage. That left her feeling powerless and frustrated.


    Still, she had onest hope. Her Inspector. "If anyone can negotiate us out of this, it¡¯s him," she thought.


    ***


    Inspector G. Reynolds was one of the most seasoned officers in the Clevnd Police Force. A veteran negotiator with a reputation for level-headed thinking under pressure, he had been specifically assigned to South Bank... an area gued by gangs and high crime, because of his unmatched ability to keep vtile situations under control.


    So, when a woman like something out of a fairy tale walked into his office... unannounced and unescorted, his brows rose. But his face remained unreadable. She wore a purple business suit, tailored to perfection, and carried herself with such unshakableposure that Reynolds knew at once she wasn¡¯t just anyone. He was struck not only by her beauty but by the confidence with which she entered... as though the station already belonged to her.


    Behind her, two more women followed. One was dressed entirely in ck, her build and posture unmistakably that of a trained bodyguard. The other appeared unremarkable... nervous, quiet... exactly the sort of face he saw at the front desk daily.


    His eyes flicked toward the open door where two armed men stood like statues, both carrying military-grade weapons. It confirmed his suspicion: something had happened to his station.


    Still, he stayed calm. He was a negotiator, after all.


    The woman in purple wasted no time. "Could you have someone bring me a cup of coffee? I came straight from work. I need one badly. Oh! ck. No sugar, please."


    The boldness of the request momentarily caught Reynolds off guard. He had expected demands or threats... certainly not a beverage order. Trying to maintain an air of control, he reached for his desk inte and pressed the call button.


    Nothing. The line was dead.


    He frowned and reached for his mobile. No signal.


    The woman smiled gently. "Ah, apologies. I should¡¯ve mentioned... allmunications in the station have been disabled. Mobiles,ndlines, everything. Completely isted."


    He looked at her sharply, tension rising in his mind.


    She turned her head slightly. "Isadora, would you mind asking someone to bring us three cups of coffee?"


    The woman in ck gave a nod and stepped out.


    The woman in purple gestured to the third woman. "Livia, dear, why are you standing? Sit beside me."


    Livia obeyed, hesitantly taking the seat beside her with the look of someone unsure whether she was inside a police station or a high-stakes thriller.


    The woman turned back to Reynolds with a charming smile. "Apologies, Inspector. Where are my manners? I¡¯m Eleanor Raynor. Please don¡¯t bother searching the inte. I¡¯m nobody. Though, if you¡¯re curious, you could always ring your colleagues in Manchester. They¡¯ll know me."


    She leaned back gracefully.


    "I¡¯vee all the way to Middlesbrough to rescue a friend. I believe she¡¯s currently somewhere within your jurisdiction."


    She gave a small nod toward Livia. "This is my friend Livia. She¡¯s the one who received the distress call. And of course, I¡¯m aw-abiding citizen... so it only makes sense I begin with a visit to the local authorities. After all, how could one possibly conduct a rescue operation without police cooperation?"


    Reynolds remained silent, analysing every word, tone, and gesture. "This woman clearly has resources. Private security, military weapons, awork capable of disablingmunications... but she doesn¡¯t im to be from any official force. Then why is she here... and what exactly does she want?"


    As if reading his thoughts, Eleanor¡¯s smile thinned slightly.


    "Don¡¯t worry, Inspector. We¡¯ve already located the position of my friend. My team is handling it. I don¡¯t require any assistance from your department... I simply ask that you don¡¯t interfere."


    Her voice remained calm, polite, almost friendly.


    "My people are... very efficient. If someone from your station were to get in their way, they might not respond with much courtesy. I¡¯d like to avoid that. So, it¡¯s better for all of us if we enjoy a cup of coffee while theyplete the task."


    At that moment, the door opened and one of the ck-uniformed guards stepped in, carrying a tray with three steaming cups. He set it down on the desk.


    "Ma¡¯am, your coffee. Do you require anything else?"


    "No, thank you," Eleanor replied with a nod. "Is everything all right with the officers?"


    "Yes. Everyone is secured in the meeting room. Aside from one officer with... red cheeks, the rest are unharmed."


    "Good. Return to your post."


    As the guard exited, Reynolds caught a clear glimpse of his weapon: a Heckler & Koch MP5... real military hardware. The guard¡¯s bearing was unmistakably that of a trained soldier. This isn¡¯t some mercenary team. These are professionals.


    Eleanor handed out the coffee. One cup was set before the inspector, one in front of Livia, and she kept thest for herself.


    "Please, Inspector," she said softly, "have a sip. It¡¯s always wise to take a pause and recharge before a long night."


    He took the cup reluctantly, watching her carefully.


    But before he could speak, Eleanor gestured again.


    "Isadora, the box, please."


    Isadora stepped forward and ced an elegantly wrapped paper box on the table. Eleanor gently slid it across to Reynolds.


    "Please open it. Consider it a gesture of goodwill... for the inconvenience, the disruption... and for taking some of your valuable time. As I said, I am aw-abiding citizen."

 Chapter 190: The Extraction

    <h4>Chapter 190: The Extraction</h4>


    Under Sebastian¡¯s leadership, the shadow guards moved towards the target as soon as the convoy stopped in front of the Clevnd Police South Bank station. Their target was fixed, but they needed to pinpoint the exact location around 53 to 57 Briggs Avenue.


    They moved fast in the shadows. When they reached the geolocation provided by Eleanor, they started searching the nearby houses to match the face they had seen in the photo. But after searching a few houses, they couldn¡¯t find any trace of their target.


    After searching for a few minutes, they finally found her in an outbuilding of a nearby house. Georgia Doyle was sitting on a chair, her head tilted to one side, seemingly asleep. Her hands and feet were tied to the chair.


    They proceeded ording to the n. Raphael went to search for hidden traps or any potential danger. ric and Elias went to find a safe and swift exit path.


    Sebastian remained in the outbuilding with Georgia, to ensure her safety.


    After a couple of minutes, Raphael came back. The other two selected a route for their safe exit and informed the team. They broke the boundary of the garden silently, so that Sebastian could take Georgia straight to the road.


    They informed their situation to Eleanor and waited for the rescue team to arrive.


    ***


    Inspector Reynolds took the beautiful paper box, which clearly looked like a gift box... and opened it. He was used to receiving presents, so he didn¡¯t mind getting another. His mind anticipated a generous offering from the beautiful woman sitting in front of him.


    But the moment he opened the box, he froze. He stared at it, his mouth hanging open.


    Seeing his reaction, Eleanor spoke, "There is one hundred thousand pounds in the box. This is my thank you to you... for your time, mental distress, inconvenience, disruption of work, and of course... the coffee."


    The inspector looked at her, dumbfounded.


    But Eleanor wasn¡¯t finished. She continued, "Don¡¯t worry. There¡¯s another box downstairs. That¡¯s for your team. One inspector, one sergeant, ten constables, and twomunity support officers. That makes a team of fourteen people in this station. Currently, with you, eight are on duty. How you divide those two hundred thousand among yourselves is not my concern. That¡¯s your job."


    Inspector Reynolds¡¯ mind raced. "What if this is a setup? I already have two investigations ongoing against me. A small gift is fine. But this amount... it¡¯s risky." he thought.


    He blurted out, stammering, "I... I... I¡¯m an honest officer. I don¡¯t take bribes."


    Hearing this, Eleanor was amused. With a yful smile, she said, "Oh! That¡¯s new! My team doesn¡¯t usually make mistakes. There¡¯s a vacation house beside Skinningrove Methodist Chapel in Saltburn, a shisha lounge on Granville Road near Teesside University, and severalmercial spaces in Middleton Grange Shopping Centre... I wonder who owns these ces."


    This time, Reynolds panicked. He hurriedly interrupted Eleanor, "Please, don¡¯t say any more. I was wrong. I¡¯ll do whatever you say. Just don¡¯t spill the beans in front of my colleagues. Please." He looked at Eleanor with pleading eyes.


    Eleanor smirked, "Okay. I was just mentioning it in passing. There are a few more, but I won¡¯t say any more. Inspector, then please help me rescue my friend. I want you to stay at this station until I leave. And keep your team in check so that no one speaks about today¡¯s matter in future."


    Through their earpieces, Eleanor and Isadora heard everything happening with the rest of the shadow team. At that moment, ric reported that they were ready on the other side. The rescue mission could begin.


    Eleanor slowly stood up and said, "Inspector, pleasee with us to meet your officers. They must be restless, not seeing you for so long."


    With that, she walked out of the room. Isadora and Livia trailed behind. Reynolds slid the box into his drawer and hurriedly followed them.


    When Reynolds stepped out of his office, he saw several armed guards stationed at strategic points throughout the station. A clear picture formed in his mind... there was no way his police force could handle this. Except for HQ, no other station could deal with such a force. All they could do was obey... and weather the storm.


    In front of the meeting room, Eleanor stopped and said to the guard standing there, "Start the extraction. Location is the same. ric will be waiting for you."


    Every guard on this mission was a n nc member. Eleanor had no concern about the operation. She confidently walked into the meeting room. Behind her came the trio... Isadora, Livia, and the inspector.


    She went straight to the main chair, sat down, and gestured for the inspector to sit beside her... which he promptly did. Livia also took the seat on her other side, while Isadora remained behind her, alert as ever. She gazed over the officers like a predator.


    Seeing the inspector unharmed, the officers inside the room sighed in relief. Their fear receded slightly, though confusion lingered.


    Eleanor looked to the far end of the table and spoke, "Constable Faith, right?"


    Faith was startled by the sudden address but nodded in affirmation. She didn¡¯t know what to say. But she didn¡¯t have to.


    Because Eleanor continued, "You¡¯ve just graduated from university and joined the force. This is your first posting. As a rookie, you don¡¯t know much about the operation of Clevnd Police. Your father died when you were a child, and your elder brother took care of your family. He is like a father to you. He¡¯s now the Inspector of Victoria Station. Did you ever question how your brother manages your family¡¯s current lifestyle on his sry?"


    Faith looked at Eleanor wide-eyed. She knew something bad wasing, but she couldn¡¯t pin down why her brother was being mentioned. Her whole body stiffened as she anticipated that something bad wasing.


    Eleanor continued, "Bribery is a necessary evil in this gang-based region. If any officer refuses a bribe, gangs consider that officer a threat. You¡¯ll learn in time that your brother did what he had to... for himself and for your family. I won¡¯t call him a bad person. In fact, he¡¯s rather goodpared to most of the force."


    She paused, then looked directly at the dumbfounded Faith and added, "I have some information for you. Your brother is currently cheating on his wife. His new girlfriend is a young reporter... just a year or two older than you. What he doesn¡¯t know is that she¡¯s a member of the Cobweb Drugs Ring, disguised as a journalist to collect police intelligence. You heard of Christopher Walker, right? The head of the heroin and cocaine distribution ring? Your brother¡¯s girlfriend is Anna Walker. I don¡¯t think I need to borate further. As an officer, you know what you should do."


    The entire room fell silent. They even feared breathing too loudly. Everyone knew Faith¡¯s brother... and how upright he was believed to be. If this became public, he¡¯d surely lose his job.


    But Eleanor wasn¡¯t finished. She turned to another officer.


    "Constable Marshal. I wonder how your girlfriend suddenly became wealthy after you joined the force. Darlington isn¡¯t arge ce where one can buy several houses andmercial properties unnoticed while supposedly being just a schoolteacher. You should¡¯ve nned more carefully... invested in different regions. I understand you believe in your girlfriend... she gave birth to your child. But what if, one day, she decides you¡¯re not enough?"


    Marshal raised both hands and said in a subdued tone, "Miss... I don¡¯t know how I¡¯ve offended you. But please, stop here."


    Eleanor said, "Oh no, you haven¡¯t offended me at all. I¡¯m just sharing information. Don¡¯t you think, after hearing Officer Faith¡¯s brother¡¯s little slip, other such information should also be shared? Otherwise, it would be unjust to a man clearly more righteous than the rest of you."


    ***


    The rescue team arrived in time and took position ording to ric and Elias¡¯s guidance. Sebastian broke the door lock of the outhouse and entered. Despite the sound, Georgia didn¡¯t wake up.


    Sebastian called her several times, but she didn¡¯t respond. However, it was clear she wasn¡¯t dead... she was still breathing. Upon closer inspection, Sebastian found several cuts and bruises on her body. Her dress was torn in many ces. Her face was pale from weakness.


    He knew it was hopeless to try waking her. In her weakened state, it was probably better for her to remain unconscious.


    He untied the ropes and lifted her onto his shoulder. Then, he walked out of the outhouse.


    He moved confidently through the garden toward the road. Elias was already standing beside the fence. Everything was going as nned.


    But suddenly, a dog from the neighbouring house sensed something was wrong.


    It started barking... loud and sharp. Whether it was Sebastian¡¯s unfamiliar aura or Georgia¡¯s limp form on his shoulder, the dog barked louder and more frantically.

 Chapter 191: Briggs Avenue Gang

    <h4>Chapter 191: Briggs Avenue Gang</h4>


    Toby Robinson was Georgia Doyle¡¯s husband. The earlier Robinsons had worked in iron mines. Later, with the rise of the local steel industry, they joined the mills. The area gradually developed into a major hub for coal and iron distribution, driven by the demand for a port to ship materials from nearby mines. Middlesbrough was established as a port town linked to the Stockton and Darlington Railway.


    With the development of the port came the inflow of drugs and illegal goods via the sea. Several gangs began to flourish in the area. Over time, as mining and steel industries continued to modernise, the Robinsons began losing their jobs and eventually drifted into gang activity. However, they remained on the periphery, upying low-ranking roles.


    Toby was an outlier in the Robinson family. From an early age, he showed a remarkable aptitude for learning. Eventually, hepleted a diploma and secured a job in Hartlepool. He married there and went to live with his inws.


    A couple of months earlier, he died in an ident. After his death, he was brought back to be buried among his family.


    Death was nothing unusual for the Robinsons. Every now and then, one of them would die in a gang fight or be shot dead by the authorities. Such was the price of living within the gangwork. Almost every family in their neighbourhood had members either actively involved in a gang or retired from one.


    Locally, the Briggs Avenue Gang held considerable power.


    They had previously been involved with various other gangs and experienced several internal conflicts. Eventually, to put an end to the infighting and maintain peace within their territory, they established their own groupposed exclusively of locals.


    The gang began taking on missions for major cartels, distributing earnings based on merit. This system proved effective, keeping the members satisfied and loyal. Over time, they grew into thergest gang in the surrounding area. No one dared to challenge them on their home turf... not even the police, who deliberately avoided patrolling the neighbourhood.


    After a day or two of mourning, his mother, Mary Robinson, resumed her normal life. She had three sons. Apart from Toby, the other two had never attended school and had joined the local gang from a young age.


    Almost a year ago, her eldest son, Boby Robinson, was arrested while trafficking drugs. He had been in prison since and was unlikely to be released any time soon. Her husband had died early, so now she only had her youngest son, Terence Robinson, by her side... as well as her eldest son¡¯s wife and two young grandsons.


    A few days ago, her eldest daughter-inw came with news that gave her hope of bringing Boby back. She had heard that, following Toby¡¯s death, his wife had received almost two hundred thousand pounds inpensation. Mary believed that, as a family, they were entitled to that money. The rest of the household agreed.


    They nned to use the money to hire awyer and post bail for Boby. With that intent, they summoned Georgia to their home.


    Unaware of their n, Georgia came to visit. But when they demanded the money they believed was rightfully theirs, she refused. She was adamant that the money was for her son¡¯s future education. No matter how much pressure they applied, she wouldn¡¯t yield.


    Things turned ugly when, in a fit of rage, Terence beat her. But the stubborn girl still refused to hand over the money. They confiscated her phone and tied her up. They threatened to kill her and even resorted to torture. Still, she refused to give in. She even managed to steal another phone to call for help.


    Finally, they bound her to a chair and locked her in the outhouse. With her mouth taped shut, there was no chance she could cry out. Their n was to starve her into submission.


    That night, the Robinsons had finished supper and gone to bed. Suddenly, their neighbour¡¯s dog began barking frantically. It was unusual for that dog. rmed, Mary pulled open the curtain and looked out into the back garden. She saw movement.


    She rushed from her room and turned on the garden lights, then hurried back to the window. There, she caught a glimpse of a man carrying Georgia out of the garden.


    She ran downstairs. By then, Terence had alsoe out of his room. Seeing him, she shouted, "Go out and stop them! Someone¡¯s trying to take that vixen away!"


    Terence rushed to the front door with a baseball bat in hand. But just as he was about to open it, he paused. He could see three or four people on the road along with the man carrying his sister-inw.


    He stepped back cautiously. He was not impulsive by nature. He quickly realised he had no chance against that many opponents. His mind raced. "If I press the rm, the gang wille out to intercept them. But the rm is only meant for rival gang attacks. I¡¯ll have to exin myselfter. Still, if I let her go, big brother won¡¯t be able toe back. With only me left, the pressure is unbearable. I need big brother home."


    He nced at the red rm button beside the door and steeled his resolve. "I¡¯ll say I mistook them for a rival gang. I¡¯ll be scolded, maybe worse... but I need the money to bring big brother back."


    In the end, the weight on his shoulders won. He pressed the button.


    Instantly, the entire area rang with the wail of the rm. One by one, gang members poured into the street... wielding swords, spears, golf clubs, baseball bats, steel pipes, and all sorts of crude weapons.


    ***


    "Shit!" Sebastian cursed loudly as he saw the garden lights flick on. Without hesitation, he sprinted towards the road where the others were waiting.


    Shadow ability was an effective and powerful skill for operating discreetly and unseen. But even it had its limits. Shadow users could only take non-living items... those they could physically carry or touch into the shadows with them. A living person on his shoulder rendered that impossible.


    With no alternative, Sebastian had to escape the area the old-fashioned way... on foot, and fast.


    Elias joined him, running beside him towards the road. By the time they reached the rest of the team, everyone was already in motion, preparing to retreat before things escted.


    But s! Just as they began their evacuation, the ring sound of rms filled the night. Doors creaked open, windows mmed up, and people started pouring out of their houses, brandishing weapons of all kinds.


    Seeing more than twenty armed people rushing toward them, Sebastian stopped abruptly and shouted, "Stop!"


    The scattered team quickly regrouped around him.


    "We can¡¯t make it out without a fight," Sebastian said grimly. "Some of them have deadly weapons... swords, spears. If we let them charge us blindly, we¡¯ll be at risk. Let¡¯s put them down first, then walk out like normal. No need to run."


    The team silently agreed, quickly taking up a battle stance. The Shadow team positioned Sebastian in the centre, shielding him and Georgia. The rest split into two defensive teams... front and rear.


    Sebastian raised his voice and shouted loud enough to reach the crowd, "We don¡¯t want to hurt anyone! Let us pass and no one gets harmed. There¡¯s no need for unnecessary violence!"


    For a moment, the crowd hesitated, exchanging looks. But their numbers kept growing... more than a hundred had gathered now. Emboldened by sheer volume, they jeered, cursed, andunched themselves at the small group of fewer than twenty people.


    Eleanor had strictly forbidden the use of firearms. They were not to shoot, nor kill. But there had been no such restriction against using their weapons as blunt-force tools.


    The shadow guards tightened their formation, shielding Georgia at the core. The others stepped forward and met the attackers head-on. They wielded their firearms like clubs, swinging with practiced efficiency. Blowsnded with precision. Arms fractured. Legs buckled.


    Every one of Eleanor¡¯s guards was a skilled fighter of n nc. It wasn¡¯t just brute force... it was controlled, efficient, and devastating.


    In less than five minutes, the street was filled with groans, fractured bones, and desperate cries of pain. Nearly a hundred attackers nowy sprawled across the ground, clutching broken limbs. The rest, terrified, turned and fled into the darkness.


    There were no streetlights in this part of town. The gang members had long since removed them for their own benefit. In the confusion and dark, they hadn¡¯t clearly seen who they were up against... only that the figures were fewer in number than they were.


    And when they finally got close enough during the fight, they saw the ck uniforms and the heavy weapons. Special forces, they assumed. It was a miracle they hadn¡¯t opened fire. They beat their attackers instead of shooting. That alone earned a twisted kind of respect.


    When the rescue team resumed their walk towards the police station, the injured began dragging themselves off the road, clearing a path.


    No longer cursing or shouting, the gang members merely looked on from the ground. Their eyes no longer held rage or defiance, but something closer to awe... respect and gratitude.

 Chapter 192: Care, Love and Drugs

    <h4>Chapter 192: Care, Love and Drugs</h4>


    In the police station, Eleanor had just finished revealing the wrongdoings of every officer present to the others. At first, they were shocked. Then came the protests. Eventually, they all cast their gaze down onto theirps, feeling dejected.


    She was receiving live updates through her earpiece, connected directly to her shadow team. When she realised the mission wasplete and her team was returning to the station, she decided it was time to wrap up.


    "Isadora, give me the box," she said.


    Isadora ced an identical copy of the box that Eleanor had gifted the Inspector earlier onto the table.


    Eleanor slid the box across to Inspector G. Reynolds and said, "Inspector, thank you for your cooperation. This small gift is for your team, as promised. I¡¯ll leave the distribution to you."


    She looked around. All the officers present were eyeing the box curiously.


    She continued, "Officers, I came here to rescue someone. It seems my team haspleted the job. What I expect from you will be exined by your Inspectorter. I¡¯ll take my leave now. You now know each other¡¯s darkest secrets. I know a few more, but those are not important. The important thing in a force is unity. Despite knowing one another¡¯s faults, if you can support each other, I believe you might still clean up the social pariahs of this area. Best wishes to you all. And thank you."


    With that, she stood up and confidently walked out of the meeting room. Isadora and Livia followed closely behind.


    Livia couldn¡¯t help but ask, "Is Georgia okay?"


    Eleanor replied, "She¡¯s been through some kind of torture. She¡¯s unconscious, but alive. I believe she¡¯ll need to stay in hospital for a while to recover."


    "Is it serious?" Livia asked with concern.


    "No. Just some bruises andck of nourishment. Nothing too serious. Don¡¯t worry... you¡¯ll see her soon."


    As the group walked out of the station, Eleanor turned to the guard posted at the entrance and asked, "Did anyonee to the station while we were inside?"


    The guard replied respectfully, "No, Ma¡¯am."


    Isadora chimed in with augh, "Looks like this station isn¡¯t very popr around here."


    Just then, they saw the rescue team approaching not far away.


    Eleanor said, "Let¡¯s get in the cars. We need to leave this area as soon as possible."


    Isadora stepped forward, opened Eleanor¡¯s car door, and Eleanor got in.


    Livia wanted to see Georgia immediately, but Eleanor said, "Get in. You can see her once we¡¯re back in Manchester. You¡¯ll be staying with her at the hospital. I don¡¯t have the time."


    After settling beside Eleanor, Livia said firmly, "Don¡¯t worry. That¡¯s a given. She¡¯s my friend. Of course, I¡¯ll stay with her in the hospital."


    Eleanor added, "You also have another task. Georgia will likely panic when she regains consciousness. You¡¯ll have to exin everything that happened. And there¡¯s another issue... her son. He¡¯s in Durham Cathedral School. As a boarding school, it¡¯s safe for a day or two. But if you dy, Georgia¡¯s inws might find a way to harm him. You¡¯ll need to figure out how to bring him to Manchester as soon as possible."


    She paused, then said, "As for Georgia¡¯s employment, contact Teresa. She may be able to help find her a job so she can settle in Manchester. It¡¯s better for her not to return to Middlesbrough. My guards gave the people in that area a thorough beating. They might hold a grudge."


    Livia nodded, "Okay. I understand."


    The convoy began to move once everyone had boarded. Georgia was resting in the back seat of Sebastian¡¯s car. The others rearranged their seating to ensure she had enough space.


    ***


    After nearly two hours of driving, the convoy arrived at Hope Specialised Hospital. Eleanor had contacted Edward Miller in advance, so a medical team was already waiting at the gate to receive them.


    Eleanor left Livia and Isadora at the hospital with Georgia. While Livia would stay there as her attendant, Isadora would return after Georgia¡¯s initial check-up and after ensuring they were settled in their cabin. The hospital would provide meals for Livia, so there was no need to worry about her missed dinner.


    Eleanor headed straight back to her vi.


    She found Ethan waiting for her at the staircasending on the first floor. He gave her a small smile. "You¡¯rete. Freya¡¯s already asleep. Go freshen up... I¡¯ll ask the kitchen to prepare something hot for you."


    Eleanor felt warmth spread through her heart. "Thanks. I¡¯ll be right back."


    She walked to her room.


    Once inside, she immediately removed her suit and tossed it into theundry basket, heading straight for the shower. The umted fatigue and sore muscles from a long, demanding day were washed away under the stream of hot water. She had badly needed this bath.


    Almost half an hourter, she emerged wearing a fresh set of clothes.


    She went directly to the dining room and found a full spread of steaming food on the table. Two ce settings had beenid out, and Ethan was seated at one of them.


    She took the seat opposite him and asked, "Why haven¡¯t you had your dinner?"


    "I thought you¡¯d feel lonely eating alone," Ethan replied.


    Eleanor¡¯s ears turned crimson at his words. Despite that, she quickly regainedposure and said, "It¡¯s well past dinner time. You should¡¯ve eaten already. Next time, don¡¯t wait for me if I¡¯mte again."


    "Next time?" Ethan raised an eyebrow, a sly grin on his lips.


    Eleanor stuttered slightly, "I... I said it casually. Meals should be taken on time... it¡¯s good for your health."


    She hurriedly began filling her te with various dishes.


    Seeing her flustered, Ethan had the urge to tease her further. But he restrained himself. Everything would settle in its own time. There was no need to rush. Quietly, he began cing food on his te.


    ***


    A Boeing 737 of Delta Air Linesnded at Norfolk International Airport after 10 p.m. local time. Passengers formed a line and began to disembark. Among them were three members of the Whitmore family. They had travelled from Manchester via Virgin Antic Airways, with ayover of more than three hours at Hartsfield¨CJackson Anta International Airport. Their connecting flight had been dyed by over an hour during transit.


    "Finally, we¡¯ve sessfully left the kingdom," William thought.


    Jennifer and Jeanne also sighed in relief as they descended the aircraft stairs. They made their way towards the baggage im area to collect their three suitcases.


    Their luggage arrived promptly. They loaded the bags onto a trolley and headed towards the customs check-out line.


    Suddenly, one of the security dogs barked and bolted towards William, who was walking slightly ahead, leading the way. Behind him, Jennifer pushed the trolley while Jeanne conversed with her about their immediate ns.


    The surrounding immigration officers instantly became alert and followed the dog. In moments, they had surrounded the trio. A small distance had formed between William and the two women. The officers quickly closed in on William, encircling him and leaving Jennifer and Jeanne behind the line.


    Several officers raised their firearms, pointing them at William. One officer stepped forward and said firmly, "Sir, pleasee with us to the screening room."


    William looked around in confusion. He couldn¡¯t see Jeanne or Jennifer. They had been cut off behind the circle. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Numbly, he nodded. He had no idea what was happening.


    The officers escorted him towards the screening room. At that moment, Jennifer caught sight of her father.


    "Dad!" she cried and rushed forward.


    One officer held up a hand and shouted, "Stop!"


    Jennifer froze, puzzled. The officer asked, "Are you with him?"


    "Yes," she replied, nodding.


    "Then follow us," the officer instructed.


    Jeanne stepped forward as well. "I¡¯lle too. He¡¯s my husband."


    "Alright," the officer agreed.


    The two women followed behind William and the group of officers.


    Upon reaching the screening area, William was immediately ushered inside. Jeanne and Jennifer were asked to wait outside.


    Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed softly. An officer seated William and began a polite but firm interrogation. William¡¯s pulse thundered in his ears.


    Finally, the officer leaned forward and asked, "Would you agree to a search? Is there anything you¡¯d like to tell us? If you confess now, we may be able to help you."


    William looked lost. He stammered, "I didn¡¯t do anything. I¡¯m a citizen of the kingdom. I have no arrest warrant."


    The officer remained impassive. He turned to the officers beside William and gave a briefmand. "Search him."


    One officer unzipped William¡¯s handbag, poured out its contents, and checked each item thoroughly. Nothing appeared unusual.


    Another officer took William¡¯s coat and began checking the pockets. He emptied them one by one.


    Then, from one pocket, he pulled out a small container wrapped in ck stic... an object that immediately raised suspicion.


    The officer tore away the stic and opened the container. Inside were several white tablets. He stepped forward and poured them onto a metal tray on the table.


    Another officer approached and scanned the tablets with a handheld device.


    "Sir," he said grimly, "heroin."

 Chapter 193: The End of Whitmores

    <h4>Chapter 193: The End of Whitmores</h4>


    William didn¡¯t know how the small container ended up in his pocket. His mind raced for a solution, but he found none.


    He panicked and said frantically, "That¡¯s not mine! I didn¡¯t carry this container. Officer, believe me, I¡¯ve never used any drugs. Someone might¡¯ve intentionally nted it to harm me. Why would I take such a risk? Officer, please believe me!"


    The seated officer said, "Heroin. Do you understand? This is a serious crime in our state of Virginia."


    William¡¯s mouth went dry. His thoughts went nk, and he copsed onto the floor, unconscious.


    The officer looked at the others and said, "Interrogate the two who came with him."


    "Yes, sir." Two officers exited and brought Jennifer and Jeanne into two separate rooms.


    After almost half an hour of questioning, and after thoroughly checking their luggage, the officers released Jeanne and Jennifer. However, they were instructed to report to the local police station once they had rented a residence.


    Inside the other room, William regained consciousness after a few minutes. The officers continued with the interrogation and found the case to be rather bizarre. After some thought, the lead officer agreed to help and requested surveince footage from Hartsfield¨CJackson Anta International Airport, where William had spent nearly three hours during transit. But after carefully reviewing the footage, they found no suspicious individual approaching William.


    With a sigh, the officer said, "Mr Whitmore, I truly believe your im. You don¡¯t look like a smuggler. But thew is thew. I have no evidence to prove your innocence. You must understand... 120 grams of heroin is a serious crime in this state. You will be charged under both Virginia transportws and federal trafficking regtions. We¡¯re cing you under arrest and will hand you over to the local authorities."


    He paused and added, "Under the Virginia statute, you¡¯re likely facing a mandatory minimum of five years, since this is your first offence... possibly longer under federal guidelines. I suggest you hire a capablewyer and apply for bail immediately. The detention centres here aren¡¯t a good ce for someone your age."


    William had recovered some of hisposure and could now think more clearly. He asked, "May I know how many days it takes to get a bail hearing?"


    The officer replied, "If yourwyer is capable, you might get bail as early as tomorrow. Otherwise, it could take three to seven days."


    William said, "Officer, I truly did not traffic any drugs. I¡¯m new to this area and don¡¯t know anyone. If you could kindly suggest a contact for a goodwyer, I¡¯d be grateful."


    The officer replied, "From my position, I can¡¯t give you a direct contact. But if you want my advice... ask your family to find awyer who¡¯s handled simr cases before. They¡¯re all listed online. Somewyers are capable of not only securing bail but also helping clear your name."


    William asked, "Thank you, Officer. May I see my wife and daughter?"


    The officer nodded, "They¡¯re waiting outside. You may speak to them now... you¡¯ve got ten minutes."


    William rushed out of the room, leaving his bag behind. As he opened the door, he spotted Jennifer and Jeanne, anxiously looking towards it. Upon seeing him, they quickly approached.


    William wasted no time. He exined that it was either a setup or just terribly bad luck, but he had to deal with the situation now.


    He told them what the officer had said regarding the bail and the urgency of hiring awyer. Since Jeanne and Jennifer were cleared of any suspicion, they immediately went to a nearby hotel to check in and store their luggage. Then Jennifer began searching online for a capable attorney.


    She soon found a news article about a simr case at the same airport just a few months earlier. Awyer had sessfully secured bail the very next day... and the case had made local news.


    Jennifer found thewyer¡¯s number through an online directory. Though it waste, she managed to speak with thewyer¡¯s assistant and scheduled an appointment for the next morning.


    The following morning, both mother and daughter rushed to thewyer¡¯s office. To their relief, thewyer had already gathered information about William¡¯s case from the authorities, based on what they had told his assistant the night before.


    They found himpetent and professional... giving them hope that William¡¯s release could be secured soon. But when thewyer quoted five million dors as his fee, both women hesitated.


    They had arrived in the US with just fourteen million dors in total. Paying five million upfront, without even knowing the bail amount... would strain their future living.


    However, thewyer rified that out of the five million, only two would be his personal fee. The rest would go towards securing bail and necessary arrangements. He assured them he would ensure bail was granted without dy.


    Jennifer had already read online that bail in simr cases often ranged between one and five million dors, though ten or even fifty million had been recorded in extreme cases.


    After a detailed discussion, they finally agreed on the condition that thewyer would be paid a total of eight million dors. How much he kept and how much went toward bail was up to him. They would pay five million up front, and the remaining three after William¡¯s release.


    The oue was better than they had hoped. By noon that day, William was granted bail at only two million dors. All three Whitmore family members returned to the hotel that afternoon.


    Though the case would proceed, thewyer assured them he would try to reduce the charges to a financial penalty rather than prison time. William regained some hope after hearing how thewyer nned to approach the case.


    That evening, the Whitmore family finally moved into their rented house. Though their savings had dropped to six million dors due to the sudden drug charge, they felt a renewed sense of optimism. They spent the evening discussing their future ns and how to move forward from here.


    ***


    Meanwhile, in the Kingdom, someone anonymously leaked a video showing Jennifer Whitmore boarding a ne and leaving the country along with her family members. The video was of high quality and clearly captured her face.


    The Whitmore-Clifford scandal had already been buried beneath a flood of newer controversies by that time. But this video reignited the fire. Social media erupted, mocking the Whitmore family for fleeing the Kingdom in disgrace.


    Soon after, another post surfaced... this time revealing the current condition of James Clifford in painful detail. It included a video of him in the hospital, missing a leg. The post imed James had been expelled from the Clifford family, and all his properties had been confiscated.


    This new wave of scandal didn¡¯t spare the Clifford family either. Their business was already reeling from the previous attacks. Now, their rivals took the opportunity to push them further down, adding salt to the wounds.


    That day, Nichs Clifford, the patriarch of the Clifford family, finally had enough.


    After a private family meeting, he made the decision. He ordered Phoebe Baker to take James and leave the Kingdom permanently. He handed them a lump sum of one million pounds and removed their names from the Clifford family registry. From that day forward, their bloodline would never again be entitled to any inheritance or recognition from the Clifford family.


    Someone also posted the new address of the Whitmore family in Virginia on social media. Several businessmen who were owedrge sums by William panicked upon hearing the news of his escape. They had known William as the chairman of EverBuild, so their first step was to seek information directly from thepany.


    When they learned that William had been removed from his position a few days earlier and no longer had any affiliation with thepany, some decided to travel to Virginia to collect their debts personally, while others began legal procedures.


    ording to the information received by EverBuild, William Whitmore personally owed more than ten million pounds. In response to the growing inquiries, EverBuild¡¯s public rtions department issued a formal notice stating that William Whitmore had been removed from his position several days ago. He held no position within thepany and had no further association with it. Anyone seeking repayment from him would need to pursue the matter personally.


    This announcement caused another uproar within the businessmunity. It became clear that EverBuild had undergone a major internal shift. The board had elected a new chairman from the Langford family of Birmingham, and Miss Francesca Walters had taken over as the new CEO.


    While EverBuild¡¯s future appeared promising, the same could not be said for William Whitmore. He was drowning in debt, and spection circted that he had fled the Kingdom to escape his financial obligations.


    ***


    Teresa went to the brokerage office to finalise the deal with Bernie Sanders.


    After returning to the Kingdom, she had met Bernie at a party. Bernie was a small businessman, but he was capable enough to catch Teresa¡¯s attention. He was well-mannered and knew precisely how to speak¡ªand more importantly, how much to speak. In business conversations, time is always limited. Bernie possessed the rare gift of sealing a deal in the shortest time possible.


    Bernie Sanders owned a proprietorship in the construction material supply business and was one of the suppliers for EverBuild. That connection caught Teresa¡¯s attention, and she decided to invest... not in his business, but in him.


    Under Teresa¡¯s guidance, Bernie¡¯s business had grown rapidly over the past few months. Teresa never asked for anything in return. She had only suggested, casually, that he should build an image of being interested in buying EverBuild shares on the market. He had done exactly that. And now, for the first time, Teresa asked something of him. Bernie finally understood why that image had been created in the first ce.


    Bernie did what he was told. He bought all the shares of EverBuild from the Whitmore family. He subtly influenced them to leave the Kingdom. He helped them sell their properties and liquidate their assets.


    Although he didn¡¯t know why this powerful figure from Heimdall had targeted the Whitmore family or EverBuild... he was happy to have finally done something of value for her.


    After signing all the documents, Teresa Li became the secondrgest shareholder of EverBuild.


    At the gate of the brokerage house, Teresa turned to Bernie and said, "I¡¯ve already called Miss Francesca Walters. You should meet her as soon as possible. You¡¯ll find new opportunities in business. Stay with her, and you¡¯ll reach new heights."


    Bernie bowed respectfully and thanked her. He knew just how monumental this opportunity was.


    He stood there for a long while, watching as Teresa¡¯s car disappeared into the distance.

 Chapter 194: The King Visited the Raynor Clan

    <h4>Chapter 194: The King Visited the Raynor n</h4>


    The inter-npetition of werewolves had nearlye to an end. Except for the Raynor n and the army under the Warlord, all others had alreadypleted the selection of their strongest warriors.


    The grandpetition hosted by the Arbiter n was the most sessful among all. Although it was the first time werewolves had participated in such an event, n Graventhal executed it without issue. Drawing experience from global human events like the Olympics and the World Cups, they implemented the rules impably. Apart from a few negligible ns, most were full of praise.


    Many lesser n heads requested Matthias Halden Graventhal, the head of n Graventhal, to arrange such a globalpetition periodically, simr to human global events. Even if they didn¡¯t qualify for the Trial of Yggdrasil in futurepetitions, they were still eager to participate. The event proved invaluable in fostering inter-n rtionships, allowing them to connect with ns they had previously never interacted with.


    Erevan Brontes Lychos, King of the Werewolves, travelled to Lunergarde to spectate the final match. All council members apanied him.


    After consulting with the King, the Arbiter dered that the grandpetition would henceforth be held by the Arbiter n once every ten years. The lesser and subordinate ns epted the news with cheers and great enthusiasm.


    Ophelia returned from Lunergarde in triumph. She had been selected for the uing Trial of Yggdrasil, having secured third position among all participants from the lesser and subordinate ns.


    Another member of n nc had also been selected for the Trial. He had ranked ninth among all participants and worked as a shadow guard under Fiona Raynor.


    n nc was in a festive mood, celebrating both Raphael¡¯s uing wedding and their sess in the grandpetition. Dominic nc decided to host both celebrations on the same day.


    The final match of the Raynor n¡¯s youthpetition would soon take ce. All prior matches had been held in Rayndell, the n¡¯s pocket dimension, but this final match was arranged at the Raynor Estate in Manchester.


    Fiona hired an array master to construct a temporary stadium for the event. Although the array masters belonged to the vampire race... with whom the werewolves had a long-standing enmity. But they worked seamlessly under the Supernatural Act, which enforced coboration among the races. If any dispute arose, the matter could be appealed to the dragons, who held responsibility for global peace.


    Lady Seraphyne Nyx Caernavar, vampire council member from the Isle of Skye in Scond, personally sent the array master after Fiona requested her assistance. The elder vampire array master used a n artefact as the foundation of the temporary stadium. After thepetition, he would retrieve it.


    King Erevan Brontes Lychos travelled to Manchester to witness the final match. Apanying him were Priest Sarika Somavati Harivamsa, Warlord Sten Ragnar Fenroth, Matron Dalisay Mayari Cordillera, and Watcher Yara Arara Neblina.


    Fiona personally received them at the airport and brought them to the estate by helicopter, avoiding immigration and traffic concerns. The Kingdom had been informed in advance, and special authorities were assisting to ensure the event concluded smoothly and on time.


    Although most humans remained unaware of the existence of supernatural races, many countries maintained a specialised unit for dealing with supernatural matters. These were elite security teams created after the formation of the Supernatural Council and worked directly under the king or president of the respective country.


    These teams included members of various supernatural races and even humans... specifically those who had returned from the Trial of Yggdrasil but chose not to ascend further to be high level core ascendants.


    Humans were a unique case among ascendants. After bing a core ascendant, one would return to Earth from Vanaheim. Those who failed the trial perished. But those who seeded had no more than one month to travel to Molgrath to progress their cultivation from low to at least intermediate level.


    This is where humans differed from other races. While other races could return to Earth after advancing their cultivation from low level to higher stages, humans could not. Once they advanced to the intermediate core ascendant level, their return was forbidden... just like with the other races when they be saints. But when other races degraded from saint to ascendant temporarily, humans instead degraded from ascendant to mortal and died shortly after. Hence, many human cultivators chose to remain as core ascendants.


    After the formation of the Supernatural Council, the dragons gathered these humans and encouraged them to serve in their respective national teams. Being human, they helped foster trust with political leaders.


    Other team members came from various local races. While in service, they were bound by nationalw under the Supernatural Act. Their primary duty was to protect civilians, human and non-human alike, from rogue supernatural entities.


    If a threat exceeded their capabilities, they were authorised to contact the dragons. As the most physically superior race among the ascendants, the dragons served as enforcers, minimising damage and punishing vitors.


    In the Kingdom, a special division within MI5 managed supernatural affairs. Although listed under MI5 on paper, their true operations remained unknown to the other members of MI5. It was rumoured that this team underwent specialised gic therapy, granting abilities far beyond human limits. Only the chief of the department was aware of theirplete activities.


    This team was monitoring the Manchester situation, given the presence of several high-ranking werewolf dignitaries. The sooner these guests departed the Kingdom, the better.


    Erevan stood before the stadium, frowning slightly. He hadn¡¯t expected such a modest venue for thepetition. From the outside, it resembled a miniature indoor stadium, neatly constructed within the courtyard of the Raynor Estate.


    Fiona stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, please... this is the gate to enter the stadium."


    Although he had many questions, he still followed Fiona and entered through the gate. The others followed behind.


    Upon entering, Erevan immediately understood the situation. The stadium was muchrger on the inside. It resembled a football stadium, with several galleries of varying sizes. Arge crowd had already gathered in the galleries.


    Aside from members of the Raynor n, there were also spectators from n nc and various other ns across the kingdom who hade to witness the final match. Nearly a thousand werewolves had gathered... all in their human forms.


    From a distance, Erevan could sense the presence of a few vampires seated in one of the far-off galleries. He observed them but didn¡¯tment. As ambassadors of the werewolf race, the Raynor n was expected to maintain rtions with other races. It was perfectly natural for non-werewolf races to be invited to such a celebratory event.


    In the centre, an arena had been prepared for the duel. A defensive array surrounded the duelling area, shielding the spectators from any stray attacks. The power of the array could be felt even from the galleries, giving the crowd a sense of security.


    Sensing the curiosity in the king¡¯s eyes, Fiona chose to exin a few things as they walked toward the VIP gallery.


    "This stadium is a temporary venue for the final match. My n doesn¡¯t own a private stadium," she began. "I considered using the Etihad Stadium, but once I confirmed help from Lady Seraphyne Nyx Caernavar, I decided to showcase their n¡¯s array mastery. This stadium is actually an artefact of the Caernavar n. They constructed it to host various n events. For our purposes, they activated multiple arrays to adapt it for the final match. Once the event is over, they¡¯ll retrieve the artefact and return it to their n. Its original form is small enough to be held in your hand."


    Erevan was visibly impressed. He sighed and said, "It¡¯s unfortunate that our race has never produced an array master. In peaceful times, arrays could truly make life easier."


    Sten added, "Not only for convenience. Defensive arrays are the greatest protection vampires have in their strongholds. Unless recognised by the arrays, no one can even step foot inside."


    Sarika sighed. "Sometimes I envy them. Vampires and dragons are the only two races with array masters. We all know how powerful the arrays in our pocket dimensions are... they were set by the dragons. Every time I visit Kvernheim, I can¡¯t help but admire the dragons... how they seamlessly blend magic and modern technology using arrays. It¡¯s fascinating."


    Erevan replied, "You don¡¯t need to be disheartened. Dragons are indeed a blessed race on this Earth. But each race has its own strength. Werewolves have produced countless powerful warriors over the ages... so many that we¡¯ve lost count. Meanwhile, vampires have a naturally low reproduction rate and their fighting prowess are lower than us. Except for their nobles, most of them wouldn¡¯t even stand a chance in a fair fight against a regr member of our ns."


    Fiona added, "Indeed, Your Majesty makes a good point. We should focus on our strengths. For one, we can walk under the sun... that alone gives us a huge financial advantage over other races."


    Herment drewughter from the group. They all knew she was cheekily referring to herself as the wealthiest among all supernatural ns.

 Chapter 195: The Finale of the Clan Competition

    <h4>Chapter 195: The Finale of the n Competition</h4>


    After the King of Werewolves and the others were seated in the VIP section, Fiona signalled to Xavier Raynor, the referee for today¡¯s match, to begin. Without wasting any time, Xavier stepped forward and started the match.


    Standing at one side of the arena, within the protective array, he raised his voice... amplified so the entire stadium could hear.


    "Today, we are gathered here to witness the duel between the two finalists of the Raynor npetition. These two have fought through every challenger among the Raynor youths and proved their worth to stand here. I present to you... Ethan Raynor and Gary Raynor!"


    As if on cue, from opposite ends of the arena, the floor split apart and both Gary and Ethan rose simultaneously from underground tforms.


    The crowd erupted with cheers, supporting their favourites. Or they ced a bet upon. Xavier waited for the noise to settle before continuing.


    "Many Raynor n fighters are skilled in weaponry. However, the variety in grade and quality could create unfair advantages. Furthermore, the purpose of thispetition is to select a representative for the Trial of Yggdrasil... where no weapons can be brought. Only your physical and mental strength will apany you. Therefore, thispetition prohibits the use of weapons. Only your body and ws will be allowed. If one of you faces mortal danger, I, as the referee, will intervene. Otherwise, the match continues until one surrenders. Let the best wolf win. Now... fight!"


    Ethan and Gary remained motionless, still standing at their respective positions, eyes locked in silence. The crowd also fell quiet in anticipation.


    Gary broke the silence first. "Ethan! I am the strongest. I will win today!" he shouted.


    With those words, Gary¡¯s upper body swiftly transformed into his wolf form, and he lunged toward Ethan. As he charged, his ws elongated and then shot forth like projectiles. This was his special ability. Gary Raynor had the rare talent of firing his nails duringbat, and they would regenerate after a short time.


    Ethan, caught off guard by the iing nails at the start of the fight, knew he couldn¡¯t dodge them all. He too transformed his upper body and swung his ws rapidly, attempting to deflect the projectiles. He managed to knock down about six of them, but the remaining ones pierced his skin.


    They didn¡¯t cause severe damage, but the pain was enough to threaten his concentration. Through sheer effort, Ethan focused again... Gary was already in front of him, closing in fast. Ethanshed out with a punch aimed at Gary¡¯s abdomen.


    At thest second, Gary twisted to avoid it, but Ethan¡¯s footshed out in what seemed like a wild kick to empty space.


    Some in the gallery, those who didn¡¯t know Ethan¡¯s power of calcted prediction, scoffed at the seemingly misced attack... but theirughter quickly faded. From their perspective, it looked as though Gary had jumped directly into the path of Ethan¡¯s kick.


    Sensing the danger toote, Gary tried to adjust mid-air, but Ethan¡¯s kick still connected. The impact sent him flying several metres. He rolled to absorb the blow, then sprang back to his feet and faced Ethan once more.


    But Ethan gave him no time to recover. He lunged forward and aimed a direct punch to Gary¡¯s chest. Gary responded with a punch of his own.


    A dull thud echoed across the stadium. Both fighters were forced several steps back. In terms of raw strength, Gary appeared to hold the advantage... Ethan was pushed back farther. Blood trickled from the corner of Ethan¡¯s mouth. Gary¡¯s desperate counter had injured him internally.


    "I¡¯m impressed. You¡¯re stronger than I expected," Gary said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "You¡¯ve clearly used thesest few years to grow stronger. No wonder you beat Lucian Gerymoore in that duel. That must¡¯ve given you a taste of feeling invincible. But make no mistake... there¡¯s still a vast gap between us!"


    "Brother Gary!" Ethan called out. "You¡¯re a Delta... a born warrior. I respect your strength. But don¡¯t you think you¡¯re underestimating me, an Alpha?"


    Gary scoffed. "You¡¯re just lucky to be born an Alpha. Until you prove your worth, you¡¯re no different from a Beta like me. This is a fight, not a council debate. I¡¯ve trained over twenty years longer than you, and I¡¯ve never cked off. Now... defend yourself!"


    With that, heunched another barrage of furious attacks. Ethan dodged what he could and parried the rest.


    Time passed. The two exchanged blow after blow, attack and defence. Their bodies were bruised, bloodied. Sometimes they transformed fully into their werewolf forms, sometimes partially, and asionally back into their human form. They had fought for nearly half an hour, and still, no victor was clear.


    Gary¡¯s experience and diversebat style gave him an edge. But Ethan had sharp instincts and precise timing, able to avoid lethal blows with uncanny awareness.


    Though Ethan had taken the brunt of the damage, his endurance had sharpened through recent training under Elder Bedivere... kept him standing.


    Suddenly, Gary leapt into the air, ws extended and hardened like curved des. His nails had already regenerated and now looked like daggers attached to his fingers. He shed downward, aiming to slice through Ethan¡¯s head.


    Ethan saw iting. He leaned just enough to the side. The w sliced past his ear with a chilling whoosh.


    Before Ethan could adjust his position, Gary raised his free hand and shot out another barrage of nails. Ethan braced himself, using both hands to defend. This time, he fared better... managing to block most of them. But while he was still upied deflecting the nails, Gary closed the distance and threw a powerful punch straight across Ethan¡¯s face, whipping his head violently to the side.


    Ethan reacted quickly. As he was spun mid-air, he used the momentum to somersault and delivered a strong counter-kick to Gary¡¯s chest. The blow forced Gary to stumble back two steps, but he didn¡¯t relent. Seizing the opportunity as Ethannded from his flip, Garyunched a kick directly at Ethan¡¯s abdomen.


    To Ethan¡¯s shock, Gary¡¯s toenails had elongated mid-attack and stabbed directly into his stomach. Instinctively, Ethan partially transformed his abdominal area to brace for impact. He then struck Gary¡¯s foot away, but the damage had already been done. Agonising pain radiated from his stomach, and he staggered several steps back to recover some distance.


    But Gary didn¡¯t give him the luxury of time. Without pause, he charged in and aimed a powerful punch at Ethan¡¯s chest. Ethan, still reeling from the pain, clenched his fists and threw his own punch in return... colliding fist-to-fist.


    A loud bang reverberated through the stadium as the blows connected. Ethan was sent skidding backwards several metres across the arena floor.


    Gary was confident that the sh would leave Ethan severely injured, having poured all his speed and strength into the strike. But to his horror, a powerful force travelled from Ethan¡¯s fist into his own arm... and then directly into his internal organs. Despite not being visibly hit, Gary wasunched backwards several metres, crashing to the ground with a grunt. His internal organs churned violently.


    In the VIP gallery, Sarika turned to Fiona with wide eyes. "Fiona, isn¡¯t this the same attack Ethan used to defeat Lucian? Is it some kind of trump card your n hides?"


    Fiona replied calmly, "It¡¯s not a final move or a secret technique. It¡¯s a method our predecessors developed to utilise our bloodline ability. Very few in our n can perform it wlessly. We found it in an old manual left by one of our ancestors."


    Sarika shook her head. "What a bizarre move. I felt the force of Ethan¡¯s attack suddenly multiply at the moment of impact... and it bypassed the outer defences to strike directly at the internal organs. Without an ascendant¡¯s protective shield, no one below that level could withstand this."


    King Erevan, clearly impressed, added, "The key lies in the timing. Unless one fully understands the rhythm of energy flow, this attack would be impossible to execute. I believe only the Raynor n can wield this technique effectively."


    The senior members of the Raynor n seated nearby exchanged nces, their eyes widening in quiet admiration. "He grasped the essence of the attack just by watching it once?" they thought in unison.


    Back in the arena, Gary tried multiple times to rise, but his injuries overwhelmed him. Atst, lying t on his back, he exhaled and admitted weakly, "I... lose."


    The crowd erupted in cheers. Supporters of Ethan shouted in celebration, while others cheered simply because they¡¯d won their bets. A betting booth had been set up before the match by Madeleine Raynor, one of the Alphas of the Raynor n. The odds had been simple: 1:2. Those who ced their bet on Ethan were now walking away with double their stakes.


    Xavier, standing nearby and breathing heavily, immediately signalled for the healers. A team of medical staff rushed onto the field, carefully lifted Gary onto a stretcher, and carried him off to the medical room for treatment.


    Ethan turned slowly to face the VIP gallery. cing his right palm against his chest, he bowed respectfully to the council members, n elders, and the King of Werewolves. Then, without a word, he turned and followed the healers. His body, too, was battered... throughout most of the fight, he had borne the brunt of the blows.

 Chapter 196: The Meeting Gift

    <h4>Chapter 196: The Meeting Gift</h4>


    After the fight was over, Fiona invited King Erevan and the other council members to a celebratory feast. Arge hall had been prepared behind the VIP gallery for the asion. Only the n heads of the attending ns and the alphas of the Raynor n were permitted to join.


    Before anyone took their seats, Fiona formally introduced each participant of the feast one by one. When it was Ethan¡¯s turn, he felt a sudden wave of hostility emanating from the king. Although Erevan maintained his usual smile and nodded at him just like he did with the others, Ethan couldn¡¯t shake the ufortable feeling that the king wanted to beat him up.


    "Maybe my mind is ying tricks on me after the fight," he thought, brushing off the unease.


    But another person also caught the fleeting shift in the king¡¯s expression¡ªSarika, the priest. "Typical. He can¡¯t stand the man who stole his daughter¡¯s heart," she mused inwardly, though her face remained as unreadable as ever. She silently took her ce beside the king.


    A generous array of dishes had been prepared beforehand. Most were regional delicacies from across the kingdom. King Erevan was seated at the head of the long table, with Fiona to his right and Sarika to his left. The rest of the council members sat nearby, followed by the visiting n heads, and finally, the alphas of the Raynor n.


    Maids from n nc moved gracefully between the guests, serving food and assisting as needed. As the host, Fiona personally helped the king choose and serve dishes ording to his preferences.


    King Erevan nced at Fiona and asked, "I¡¯ve seen many of your n members here today, but I haven¡¯t seen your young miss. Is she well?"


    The question sparked different thoughts in Sarika and Fiona¡¯s minds. Both heard the king¡¯s words loud and clear.


    "He couldn¡¯t wait to see his daughter. It¡¯s unfortunate he came all the way here but hasn¡¯t seen her," Sarika thought.


    "That bastard from the Gerymoore n... He¡¯s turned the king against Eleanor. The king must be searching for her to question her about that incident," Fiona thought, her eyes narrowing slightly as they shifted towards George Gerymoore at the far end of the table.


    On the other side, George suddenly felt a foreboding chill trickle down his spine. He looked around warily, but no one seemed to be paying him any attention.


    Sarika said, "Yes, Fiona, I was thinking the same. This is such a major event for your n, yet she didn¡¯t join us. Where is she?"


    Fiona smiled and replied, "A sudden issue arose in her business, and she had to attend to it immediately. You know howrge her operations are. Ever since His Majesty dered that all future n heads must participate in the Trial of Yggdrasil, she¡¯s been trying to wrap things up quickly. Don¡¯t worry¡ªshe wille to greet His Majesty after the feast."


    Sarika nodded, "I actually like the girl. She¡¯s young, bold, and unafraid of risk. I believe she¡¯ll be even more sessful than you a century from now."


    Fiona chuckled. "That she will. In terms of personal assets, she has already surpassed me at her age. If she manages to maintain this momentum, I believe she¡¯ll do a far better job than I ever could."


    As she spoke, Fiona subtly pulled her phone from her clutch and sent a message to Eleanor:


    "Where are you? The king wants to see you."


    She continued discussing recent events in the supernatural world with the council members, who were now engaged in a broader conversation.


    Two minutes passed without a reply.


    Fiona typed again¡ªthis time to Teresa:


    "Ask Eleanor to check her phone. It¡¯s urgent."


    This time, the reply came instantly:


    "Okay."


    ***


    Eleanor was working diligently in herb at Heimdall Tower. She had nned to finish some coding first, then head over to spectate the final match. But once it began, she became so engrossed in her work that she lost all sense of time.


    Her concentration was broken by the beep of the door lock¡¯s scanner. Only Teresa and Maya had permission to enter theb besides her¡ªboth required full-body scans for ess.


    She looked up as the door slid open. Teresa peeked in and said, "Fiona Raynor asked you to check your mobile."


    Eleanor nced across the room at her phone. The moment she picked it up, her expression darkened as she remembered what she¡¯d forgotten. "Shit!" she cursed.


    It was far toote to catch the fight.


    She quickly replied to Fiona¡¯s message:


    "Sorry. I¡¯ll be there in ten minutes."


    Then she shouted, "Teresa! Tell the pilot to ready the helicopter on the roof. I need to go to the Raynor Estate¡ªI¡¯m alreadyte!"


    "Okay," Teresa replied before closing the door and hurrying to give instructions to the pilot.


    Eleanor threw on her signature purple zer and slipped her phone into the inner pocket. "Nora, give me the current build progress," she said as she walked over to the makeover table and began quickly touching up her face.


    Nora¡¯s calm voice echoed from theb speaker:


    "Core Framework: 100%


    Neural Processing Unit: 100%


    Data Ingestion Pipeline: 92%


    Sensor Integration Module: 87%


    Autonomous Navigation Logic: 75%


    Threat Detection AI Core: 61%


    Communication Interface: 54%


    Decision-Making Engine: 49%


    Energy Optimisation Layer: 63%


    Redundancy System: 39%


    Safety Protocols: 35%


    Satellite¨CEnvironment Link: 28%


    Total Completion: 78%


    Estimated Time Remaining: 12 days


    Build Mode: Active."


    Eleanor sighed in resignation as she listened to the report. "Still not enough. I need to be faster," she muttered.


    "Nora, troubleshoot any issues with the current progress. Save the log. I¡¯ll pick it upter," she said firmly.


    "As you wish. Do you want me to run apatibility test as well?" Nora asked.


    "Okay. Do that too," Eleanor replied as she strode out of theb.


    She took the elevator straight to the rooftop. The helicopter was already prepped and waiting. As she stepped on board, the rotors spun faster and the aircraft lifted into the air, heading directly towards the Raynor Estate.


    ***


    When Eleanor reached the Raynor Estate, the feast was already underway. Except for Isadora... who had remained behind to guard theb while Eleanor worked, none of her shadow guards had apanied her. Although she had instructed them to travel by road with her convoy, they would take some time to arrive.


    Eleanor sat on a sofa just outside the feast venue and sent a message to Fiona:


    "I am outside. Call me if you need me."


    She then called over a nearby n nc member who was cleaning the gallery and asked her about the battle and the guests. It didn¡¯t take long for Eleanor to get a clear picture of the match and who the visiting dignitaries were.


    After receiving her message, Fiona smiled and turned to the king. "Your Majesty, Eleanor has arrived. She is waiting outside to meet you after the feast."


    King Erevan replied, "No need to wait until the feast concludes. I¡¯ll meet her now. I¡¯ve received a fewints against her that I need to confirm personally. It would be better to speak with her while the feast continues... I n to depart once it¡¯s done."


    He raised his voice for all to hear, "Everyone, please carry on with the celebration. I shall return shortly."


    He nced at Sarika. "Sarika, oversee the feast in my absence."


    Sarika chuckled inwardly. "So, he¡¯s finally going to meet Eleanor. Of all those present, only I know the real reason he wishes to speak with her."


    But outwardly, she replied with a respectful tone, "Don¡¯t worry, Your Majesty. I shall handle everything."


    As the king rose and exited the room, Fiona followed close behind, visibly anxious. All the council members had heard what the king said. They were well aware of Alistair Gerymoore¡¯sint. It didn¡¯t take a genius to piece things together.


    Once the king had left, Sten Ragnar Fenroth chuckled. "Looks like young Miss Raynor is in trouble."


    Dalisay Mayari Cordillera added, "I didn¡¯t expect His Majesty to take Alistair¡¯sint seriously. Even the Gerymoore n stripped him of his position over that issue."


    Yara Arara Neblina said, "I heard the Lychos nunched an investigation after theint. No idea what they found, but for the king to personally confront her, it must be significant."


    Sarika simply smiled and remained silent.


    ***


    Just as they stepped outside the dining hall, Erevan said, "Fiona, is there a secluded ce where I may speak with you and Eleanor in private? I dislike staying within a vampire artefact."


    Fiona nodded. "I understand, Your Majesty. Let¡¯s go to my residence."


    The two began walking away from the stadium. Not far ahead, they spotted Eleanor seated on a sofa, talking to Isadora. Erevan nced at the young woman without any visible emotion, but internally he felt unsettled... she looked just like her mother. He was at a loss for words.


    Fiona didn¡¯t notice his reaction and called out, "Eleanor! Come here."


    Hearing the call, Eleanor turned. Upon seeing the king beside Fiona, she immediately stood and sprinted over. When she reached them, she ced her palm over her chest and knelt on one knee.


    "Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor pays her respects to His Majesty."


    Erevan said curtly, "Rise and follow us."


    Eleanor stood and fell in line behind them as they made their way to Fiona¡¯s residence.


    Inside, Adrian and Selene Raynor were speaking with several n members in the drawing room... guests who hade to watch the final match. Upon seeing the king enter, everyone knelt on one knee to pay their respects.


    King Erevan said, "At ease. Fiona, please lead the way."


    "Yes, Your Majesty," Fiona responded.


    She guided them upstairs to her private study. Once inside, she closed the door and said, "Your Majesty, please take a seat. This room ispletely soundproof. Even my shadow guards won¡¯t hear a word if the door is shut."


    The king walked behind the desk and sat in the main chair. "You two, no need to stand. Sit."


    Fiona and Eleanor took the seats across from him.


    King Erevan began, "Don¡¯t worry, Fiona. I didn¡¯te to speak with Eleanor because of the Gerymoore n¡¯sint. That was merely a pretext. But I am curious why the Raynor n has suddenly taken an interest in politics."


    Fiona nced at Eleanor, who calmly said, "Your Majesty, it was my decision alone. The n had no involvement. I have a product that can only be sold to governments. So, I needed to ce certain individuals in positions of influence to facilitate the transactions. I chose the day of the duelling match for fun."


    The king raised an eyebrow. "That¡¯s all?"


    Eleanor nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."


    With a small smile, Erevan removed a crystal ss box from his storage ring and set it on the desk.


    Eleanor admired the craftsmanship of the box, but Fiona gasped in astonishment. "The Vest of the Mytherial Moon!" she blurted out.


    Eleanor looked at Fiona in surprise, then at the king... whose expression was mildly amused.


    "This is our first meeting, Eleanor," Erevan said. "Let this be my gift to you. You may not yet understand its value, but once you be an ascendant, you will."


    Eleanor recognised the item¡¯s worth by Fiona¡¯s reaction alone. She stood, bowed deeply, and said, "Thank you, Your Majesty."


    Erevan replied, "You may leave now. Leave the box here... I wish to speak with Fiona in private. And do not mention what transpired here to anyone."


    Eleanor bowed once more and quietly left the study.


    Once the door was shut, Erevan¡¯s expression turned serious. He looked Fiona in the eye and said, "I¡¯m sorry, but the Raynor n will need a new sessor in the future."


    Fiona was shocked and thought she had misheard. She blurted out, "What?!"

 Chapter 197: Secret Unveiled

    <h4>Chapter 197: Secret Unveiled</h4>


    For a moment, Fiona¡¯s mind went nk. She couldn¡¯tprehend what the king had just said. Her thoughts raced: "He specifically told us not to worry about the Gerymooreint. I¡¯ve never heard of Eleanor doing anything that would justify stripping her title. Then why...?"


    Before she could collect her thoughts further, King Erevan continued, "Don¡¯t misunderstand me. I hold no grudge against your n. In fact, I¡¯m grateful for all you¡¯ve done for Eleanor. You¡¯ll understand everything once you see this."


    He ced a sketch on the desk. "Do you remember, thirty years ago... just after I seeded the throne following my father¡¯s disappearance, I issued a worldwide search for a certain woman?"


    Fiona nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember. But... you never found her."


    The king gestured to the paper. "Look closely at the sketch."


    Fiona leaned forward. The moment her eyes fell on the image, she froze. Her eyes widened as she murmured, "Eleanor..."


    Erevan replied in a sombre tone, "No. That was her mother. I¡¯ve already conducted a DNA test. Eleanor is my daughter."


    Fiona opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. She closed it again, stunned, staring at the king in silence.


    Erevan continued, seemingly unbothered by her speechlessness, "Sarika was the one who first uncovered the truth. When she brought Eleanor to the temple for her ancestral blessing, she noticed that both the Raynor and Lychos n ancestors gave their blessings. She recalled the sketch I circted years ago and suspected a connection. A DNA test confirmed it."


    He took a deep breath.


    "Right now, only Sarika, you, and I know the truth. We cannot reveal Eleanor¡¯s identity just yet. You understand how some in my n are eyeing the throne. With no known heir, they¡¯ve been biding their time... waiting for my passing. But if word gets out that I have a daughter, and even a granddaughter, they won¡¯t stay passive. Eleanor¡¯s life, and her child¡¯s... could be in danger."


    This time, Fiona nodded in understanding. But before she could reply, Erevan continued, "I¡¯ve had a long discussion with Sarika. We both agreed that Eleanor will be introduced to the world at my coronation ceremony. That way, I can publicly dere her as my heir in my very first decree. Until then, her identity must remain secret... even from her. As much as I long to speak to her, to see my granddaughter, I must prioritise their safety. She grew up without a father. She¡¯s already be a mother herself. A few more months won¡¯t change the past."


    He paused, then added, "I also have to consider the other council members. If the Raynor n¡¯s young miss suddenly turns out to be my daughter, I¡¯m unsure how well it will be received. For everyone¡¯s sake, we must keep this quiet. While she¡¯s under your care as a Raynor, she¡¯s protected. And now that she¡¯s awakened her Elizabeth bloodline... As a father, I can only ask that you continue looking after her."


    Fiona suddenlyughed. Then she asked, "How long have you known?"


    Erevan answered frankly, "Since Eleanor returned from India."


    Fiona raised an eyebrow. "So, when you visited Kvernheim, you already knew. You bought this armour for Eleanor, didn¡¯t you? I was bidding for her too," she chuckled. "I spent half the night wondering who you were buying it for. I never guessed."


    Erevan smiled. "What could I do? I have to protect my daughter."


    Fiona asked more seriously, "Then... all these npetitions, and the decree for young n heads to take part in the Trial... was that your doing?"


    Erevan nodded. "Yes and no. While I had a hand in it, the order came from Yggdrasil itself. All races were asked to send their younger generation to prepare for what¡¯sing. There¡¯s a war brewing in Molgrath. Reinforcements may soon be needed."


    "I¡¯ve heard as much," Fiona said. "Isn¡¯t it too risky to send ascendants into a war zone?"


    "It was always risky," Erevan replied. "But we must prepare them for the worst. I need Eleanor to at least reach ascendance before I can dere her as my heir."


    Fiona nodded slowly. "That makes sense now. But she awakened the Elizabeth bloodline, not Brontes. Isn¡¯t it required to awaken the Brontes bloodline to be heir?"


    "Yes," Erevan agreed, "but Sarika assured me not to worry. With the ancestor¡¯s blessing, Eleanor will awaken her Brontes bloodline as well. She will be the first werewolf in history to wield a dual bloodline."


    Fiona was so stunned she fell silent.


    Erevan¡¯s voice softened. "You did a remarkable job hiding Eleanor¡¯s past. I couldn¡¯t uncover anything. But I¡¯d like to know about her mother. I didn¡¯t even know her name."


    Fiona replied quietly, "Her name was Esmeralda Langford. She died shortly after giving birth to Eleanor. If you are the father, it¡¯s no surprise. Giving birth to a mixed-blood child could have been too much. In that light, Eleanor¡¯s survival, as she was born as a human... is nothing short of a miracle."


    She paused, then added, "I heard Esmeralda came from the Langford family of Birmingham. Her tomb is in the Langford Castle grounds. The family once held significant prestige in the kingdom. Her father was an Earl, a high-ranking official under the king. If you¡¯d like, I can arrange information for you. But I would advise against visiting now... your movements are always under watch. If you wish to keep this hidden, it¡¯s better to wait until the coronation. Then, perhaps, you can visit with Eleanor."


    Erevan nodded. "That¡¯s wise. Still, I wish I could¡¯ve known about her earlier. I feel so guilty. She must have suffered without a father."


    Fiona said, "Eleanor doesn¡¯t speak much about her childhood. I only know what she and Ethan told me. She went through deep trauma. In fact, when she was turned, she had just suffered a terrible ident. Ethan turned her out of desperation... to save her life."


    Erevan leaned forward. "Can you tell me everything you know? Please."


    And so, Fiona told him. Everything. How Eleanor was raised in the Whitmore family. How she was used, betrayed, plotted against. How Ethan found her. How she was turned. How she rebuilt herself. How she rose to be a business powerhouse. What she was doing now.


    She then sent several photos of Freya to Erevan and exined who she was.


    After more than twenty minutes, Erevan and Fiona walked out of the study. Both of them hadposed themselves, their expressions t and unreadable. No one could guess just how emotional the two of them had been moments ago.


    By the time they returned to the stadium, the feast had already concluded, and everyone was waiting for the king¡¯s departure. King Erevan bid farewell to the gathered n heads and other werewolves in attendance. Then, together with the council members, he boarded the helicopter. Fiona apanied them, intending to see them off at the airport.


    After the helicopter departed, George Gerymoore stepped forward and approached Eleanor. "Young Miss Raynor, I am George Gerymoore, the current n Head of the Gerymoore n."


    Eleanor ced her palm over her chest and gave a slight bow. "Good afternoon, Mr Gerymoore. I hope you enjoyed our hospitality."


    George smiled. "Thank you. I¡¯ve been hoping to speak with you for some time. I¡¯ve asked Fiona several times, but she always said you were busy."


    Eleanor replied, "There¡¯s a lot going on in my business. As you saw today, I even missed the celebratory feast with His Majesty."


    George chuckled. "No, no, I¡¯m not ming you. I just wanted to resolve any misunderstanding that may exist between us."


    Eleanor looked directly into the elder¡¯s eyes. Without betraying a hint of emotion, she replied, "I wasn¡¯t aware that there were any misunderstandings between us. In fact, I¡¯ve never had any contact with your n before. You¡¯re the first person from the Gerymoore n I¡¯ve spoken to. But rest assured... as my elder, you will always have my utmost respect."


    George smiled again. "That¡¯s good. That¡¯s very good. In that case, allow me to formally invite you to our n. If you¡¯re ever in London, we¡¯d be honoured to host you."


    Eleanor responded with grace, "Thank you. I will certainly visit when time permits."


    Several werewolves nearby were quietly trying to listen in on the conversation. Given the recent tension between the two ns, their curiosity was understandable... they suspected something significant might be brewing.


    At that moment, Ethan approached and greeted George politely. He then turned to Eleanor and said, "You need to head back. Aunt Be just arrived at your vi."


    Eleanor nodded. "Let¡¯s go, then."


    She turned and called out to Isadora, who was standing nearby. "Isadora, prepare the car. We¡¯re leaving now."


    Then she turned to George once more and said, "Something urgent hase up. I have to go now, but I¡¯ll definitely visit your n in the future."


    She and Ethan then bid farewell to the remaining guests one by one. Momentster, her convoy rolled out from the parking area, nine sleek ck Range Rovers filled with armed guards forming a coordinated line. In full view of the crowd, the vehicles glided away from the estate in dignified formation.

 Chapter 198: A Day Around the World- 1

    <h4>Chapter 198: A Day Around the World- 1</h4>


    On Kadan Ind, thergest ind in the Mergui Archipgo, basemander Saw Ghay Moo was bored to death after standing for hours. He and his team had been guarding the dock like they always did... but tonight, it was unusually exhausting. The operation had started earlier than usual, and for some reason, the other party had shown far more activity than normal.


    But Ghay Moo had no reason toin. The other party was their benefactor. Without their weapons and medicine, the Karen National Liberation Army would never have reached its current position. So, he endured. And he knew his men were enduring too.


    Just as the sky began to show hints of morning light, the activity at the dock ceased and the ship started to pull away.


    As the vessel faded into the mist, Ghay Moo couldn¡¯t wait any longer. He turned on his radio and ordered, "Soldiers, move to the dock."


    But just as they began to move, a deep vibration ran beneath their feet. "Earthquake!" was everyone¡¯s immediate thought.


    They dropped t to the ground, following standard protocol.


    But then came a low, rumbling noise from the central mountain of the ind... followed by a thunderous explosion. And then... silence.


    Far out at sea, although the ship had already travelled some distance,rge waves from the explosion still reached it. The vessel rocked violently, swaying left and right... but even that couldn¡¯t disturb Nora. She remained seated on her bed in a perfect meditative state, unmoved by the chaos outside.


    Back on the ind, as calm returned, Ghay Moo stood up and checked on his team. No one was harmed. He immediately split them into two groups: one was sent to investigate the explosion, the other to secure the dock.


    The first team reached the base of the mountain and found a massive crater where part of it had copsed. It looked like a cave-in. After receiving the report, Ghay Moo personally rushed to the dock.


    The first rays of golden sunlight were already falling onto the ind by the time he arrived. Scattered across the dock were severalrge boxes.


    They approached cautiously and opened one. Inside were long crates. Ghay Moo¡¯s eyes widened along with his men¡¯s. Within the cratesy ten rocketunchers... and a considerable number of rockets.


    In one of the crates, they found a folded sheet of paper. Ghay Moo opened it and read the neatly typed message:


    "Thank you for your hospitality. We hope you will properly use thisst gift."


    The other boxes contained their usual deliveries... medical supplies, ammunition, rations.


    Ghay Moo understood immediately. Their guests had left. The explosion had been deliberate... a way to erase all traces of their presence.


    He took a deep breath to calm his mind, then switched on the radio to report to his superior.


    ***


    In a newly established Special Economic Zone near the Lekki Deep Sea Port in Nigeria, Heimdall¡¯s Nigerian production base was taking shape. A ten-foot-high boundary wall surrounded the area, enclosing the growingplex. Nearly a hundred construction workers were scattered across multiple sections, the air thick with the roar of heavy machinery and the shouts of supervisors coordinating the work.


    Near the main gate of the facility, Aisha Bello stood with arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on Edem Kacha. "I don¡¯t know how you n to pull this off," she said coldly. "The boss wants us to enter the Kingdom¡¯s market within three months. We¡¯re still in the construction phase. At this pace, when exactly do you expect production to start?"


    Edem sighed. "Miss Bello, I understand your urgency... really, I do. But there are no skilled construction workers avable in this region. I¡¯ve checked with every contractor and supplier. If we bring in unskilledbour, it¡¯ll cause more damage than progress."


    "Then bring workers from other regions," Aisha snapped. "And if it isn¡¯t enough, bring them in from neighbouring countries. I want all construction finished within one month."


    Edem hesitated. "But... that¡¯ll cost a lot."


    Aisha scoffed and narrowed her eyes. "I don¡¯t know how your family became partners with my boss. Sure, you¡¯ve got some pull with the government offices here. But you don¡¯t know her. There¡¯s one thing Miss Raynor doesn¡¯tck... money. That¡¯s not the problem. The only thing that matters is following her orders."


    She stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but edged with steel. "There are no ipetent subordinates under her. The ones who couldn¡¯t keep up? They¡¯re all dead."


    The way she said those words sent a chill down Edem¡¯s spine. He mentally noted to ask his father more about Miss Raynor. "Understood, Miss Bello," he said quickly. "Five hundred workers will be here within two days. Just... please settle the bill when the timees. We¡¯re not exactly as rich as you."


    "Don¡¯t worry," Aisha replied with a small smirk. "Just send me the numbers."


    Without another word, she turned, walked to her car, climbed in, and drove off, leaving Edem standing silently in the dust and noise of the construction site.


    ***


    In the newly remodelled data center of NexaByte Technologies at Trafford Park of Manchester, CEO Ava Martin entered her freshly built office for the first time. She had justpleted a tour of the entire facility and was visibly pleased with the result. Her employees had exceeded expectations, and everything had beenpleted ahead of schedule. A slight, satisfied smile crept onto her lips.


    She walked confidently behind her desk and took a seat. Several data center employees followed her into the room and now stood respectfully in front of her.


    Her expression turned serious again. "Thank you all for your excellent work. I¡¯m sure the boss will be pleased when she hears about the earlypletion. But first, we need to link this facility with our U.S. data center. Are we ready?"


    One of the employees, a short man of Asian descent, wearing gold-rimmed sses, nodded. "Yes, ma¡¯am. You can initiate the connection anytime."


    Ava picked up her phone. "Then I¡¯ll call the U.S. team."


    She dialled a number. "Hello, Mr. Spencer. Are you free?"


    "I¡¯m free, Miss Martin. What can I do for you?" came the calm reply.


    "Our Trafford Park data center is ready for connection," she said. "Our internal tests showed zero errors. When can your team initiate operations on your end?"


    "Congrattions! I thought you¡¯d be ready by the end of the month," Spencer replied with a hint of surprise. Then, after a pause, he added, "Get your team in position. We¡¯ll be ready on our side in about thirty minutes."


    "No problem," Ava said. "I¡¯ll call you back in half an hour. Thank you."


    She ended the call and looked at the team in front of her. "You heard him. We go live in thirty minutes. I will be at the mainframe by then. Let¡¯s make this smooth."


    The employees nodded and exited the room one by one.


    Left alone, Ava stretched her arms and legs with a quiet sigh. The facility tour had been long and tiring... her feet ached slightly, but her mind buzzed with satisfaction. As the boss of a major data center,pleting this milestone ahead of schedule was no small feat.


    Her role at Heimdall was about to be even more significant.


    ***


    At the K Penins of Murmansk Ost, Anastasiya Ivanova stood silently, gazing over the vast stretch ofnd where people and machines worked tirelessly. The sound of heavy machinery echoed across the frozen ins. Her eyesnded on Polina Kurnikova, the project manager leading this massive construction with more than two hundred workers under hermand.


    "So, this will be our K Penins Industrial Campus," Anastasiya thought. "I still don¡¯t know much about running apany... let alone one this big. The construction team leader said it¡¯ll be done within four months. After that, we enter the production phase. I hope Eleanor has a solid n for the future."


    She turned her head toward Dimitry Petrov, the knight assigned to apany her under her grandfather¡¯s order. "Sir Petrov, when can I move into my new house?" she asked.


    Dimitry, who had been admiring the scale of the construction in silence, blinked and looked at her. "At least ten days, Miss. But I still hope you¡¯ll reconsider. A simple vi would draw less attention. This mansion you designed will be... too eye-catching when finished. Also, it will take me six months toplete everything ording to your n."


    Anastasiya gave him a side nce and replied coolly, "You don¡¯t understand. Grandpa sent me here to rule Murmansk Ost, not to charm the locals like some human politician trying to earn votes. I¡¯m not here to win hearts... I¡¯m here to invoke fear. The scattered vampire families of this region need to understand who holds power now."


    She narrowed her eyes slightly, then added with a small smirk, "Besides, don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know your little n. You just want to finish your job quickly and run back to Moscow."


    Caught red-handed, Dimitry looked away, his face tinged with a rare flush of red. The cold wind swept across thendscape, whistling past his ears.

 Chapter 199: A Day Around the World- 2

    <h4>Chapter 199: A Day Around the World- 2</h4>


    In Kern County, just beside Rogers Dry Lake and Edwards Aux North Air Force Base, stood the sprawling facility of Orionix SpaceTech Inc. Over the past few months, thepany hadunched more than a hundred satellites into orbit. For reasons of security and confidentiality, Edwards Air Force Base extended its facilities to Orionix, while also requesting support from the NASA Armstrong Flight Research Center, fully aware that thepany was operating under NATO¡¯s directives.


    Following thepany¡¯s establishment, a specialised NATO team was stationed at Edwards to assist Orionix in its operations. Even NASA engineers were astounded by the speed of Orionix¡¯s satelliteunches... almost as if they were racing against time. Thepany sourced materials globally, paying premium prices without hesitation, seemingly unhindered by any budgetary limitations. NASA, too, profited significantly by supplying variousponents and materials.


    Most of Orionix¡¯s employees were seasoned veterans poached from other space agencies... particrly NASA. Key roles such as Head of Engineering, Launch Operations Manager, Satellite Systems Engineer, Propulsion Engineer, Avionics and Software Engineer, and Quality Assurance & Safety Manager were all filled by former NASA alumni. For regtory affairs, NATO provided their own personnel, streamlining processes significantly.


    Dr. Drake Graham took up the role of CEO at Orionix after voluntarily retiring from NASA, where he had served as the Director of Kennedy Space Center. His time at Orionix had opened his eyes to technological developments he¡¯d never imagined encountering. It had been a gamble to leave NASA, but the risk had paid off.


    Although his activities remained under the watchful eye of the NATO team, Dr. Graham was no stranger to oversight... he had endured far more interference from bureaucrats during his time at NASA. Here, NATO personnel stayed out of technical affairs, which was a wee change.


    Then there was the matter of funding. Upon his appointment, thepany¡¯s enigmatic founder, Eleanor Raynor, had promised him unlimited resources... whatever he needed to get the job done. And she had kept her word. Not once had he faced a budget cut. The only thing his boss ever pressured him about was time. She wanted everythingpleted fast. Dr. Graham did his best to deliver, though he knew that even with endless money, some things simply couldn¡¯t be rushed.


    At this moment, inside theunchmand centre, the entire staff erupted into celebration. They had just sessfully deployed their 120th satellite into orbit. Dr. Graham, wearing a rare smile, watched with satisfaction. They had all worked tirelessly over the past two years to reach this point. Although the final goal was 150 satellites, 120 was the initial milestone and they had justpleted it.


    Amid the noise, Dr. Graham nced at his phone to check the time. It was early evening in the Kingdom.


    He dialled Eleanor. "Miss Raynor, we¡¯ve just sessfullyunched the 120th satellite. The team is celebrating. We¡¯vepleted the milestone within the timeline. May I announce the bonus you promised?"


    Eleanor¡¯s voice came through the speaker, calm and direct. "Very well. You may dere it. At the end of this month, all employees will receive a bonus equal to their basic sry. Contact Teresa to arrange the transfer. And congrattions to you and your team."


    "Thank you," Dr. Graham said, ending the call.


    He approached the nearest microphone and cleared his throat. Instantly, the noise around him died down as everyone turned their attention to him.


    "Thank you all for your outstanding work. I¡¯ve just spoken with the boss. She¡¯s approved a bonus... each of you will receive an additional month¡¯s basic sry with the next pay cycle."


    Themand centre erupted again... this time louder than before. The walls echoed with cheers and apuse.


    Dr. Graham stood still, watching them celebrate. He knew they deserved every bit of it.


    ***


    In Taramani, Chennai, India, Helena Rodrigues stepped out after inspecting the final factory. The warm afternoon sunlight bathed her bronze skin and dark, wavy hair in a golden glow. With her tall frame and curvaceous figure, she appeared effortlessly captivating, exuding a mature and self-assured aura.


    Samantha Nagavanshi, daughter of the Naga King Vasuki Prabhas Nagavanshi, had been apanying Helena for the past few days. Together, they had visited all seven factories in the region, streamlining production lines and finalising office structures. With their effortsplete, all facilities were now operating at full capacity.


    Samantha had learned a great deal since meeting Eleanor. She was astonished by the calibre of talent Eleanor had assembled. Numerous experts hade to aid in the restructuring of the factories... each one a specialist in their own right. Working alongside them, Samantha absorbed more knowledge in a few days than she had in years prior.


    Once they got into their car, Samantha asked, "Helena, are you really leaving tomorrow?"


    Helena nodded. "Yes. I¡¯m responsible for overseeing threepanies back in the Kingdom. If I remain here much longer, they¡¯ll begin to suffer fromck of direction."


    Samantha smiled and said, "Then, I¡¯d like to invite you to dinner at my home this evening. My father would also like to meet you."


    Helena considered it for a moment, then agreed. "Alright. But I need to return to the hotel first... I have an online meeting. After that, I¡¯m free. Just send a car."


    Samantha responded cheerfully, "No worries... I¡¯lle pick you up myself."


    Helena turned her gaze to the window. A vibrant sea of vehicles of every shape and size filled the road. On the pavements, streams of pedestrians hurried home from work. The everyday bustle of Chennai, so alive and diverse, continued to fascinate her with each passing day.


    ***


    In the Walmart Supercenter, Suffolk of Virginia, Eleanor Whitmore and Jeanne Baker were strolling through the shelves, picking out the necessary items for their household. This was the first time in a long while they had to check the price of every item... they were running on a budget.


    Thest few days had been terribly difficult for their family. After settling into their new house, they had bought two cars formuting. They had initially decided to start a small business with what little money they had left.


    But someone had leaked their new address to people from the Kingdom who were owed money by William. One by one, they started to contact them, asking for repayment. They immediately changed their phone numbers, but it didn¡¯t help much. Some of the debtors had rtives or business associates living in Virginia who showed up at their doorstep, demanding money.


    William Whitmore had just bailed out of a drug smuggling case, so they couldn¡¯t afford to stir up any disturbance in the neighbourhood. They paid some of the more persistent ones just to make them go away, which further dwindled what little savings they had. In the end, they had to drop the idea of starting a business altogether. Instead, they decided to look for jobs that matched their expertise.


    Jennifer¡¯s friend, who had already been living in Virginia, managed to arrange a job for her that would begin next month. Luckily, when all her other friends had cut contact, this one had remained loyal and helped her in her time of need.


    William Whitmore had gone for an interview at a construction material supplypany. He was hopeful about getting the job due to his past experience in the industry.


    But the real problemy with Jeanne. She had never worked a day in her life. With no experience, and given her age, it would be difficult for her to find any job. So, they decided she would stay home and manage the household in the meantime.


    However, this was easier said than done. They had lived with house staff for many years. Adjusting to this new life... cleaning, cooking, managing everything on their own was proving to be difficult.


    As they were engrossed in their shopping, a man dressed in a ck suit and cap approached them.


    "Are you Jeanne Baker from Manchester?" he asked, looking directly at Jeanne.


    Jeanne was startled by the sudden question, but she answered, assuming he was yet another personing to ask for money. "Yes. How may I help you?"


    "I was tasked to give you this," the man said, handing her an envelope. Jeanne took it from him cautiously.


    "Please read the contents carefully. The same documents are being given to Mr William Whitmore as well. My employer wishes you the best of luck." With that, the man turned and walked away without another word.


    Jeanne stood there frozen, staring at the envelope.


    Jennifer asked, "Mum, what¡¯s in it?"


    Jeanne replied, "I don¡¯t know. I thought he¡¯d demand money like the others."


    Jennifer frowned. "I thought so too. But he only gave you a letter. You don¡¯t have any debts in the Kingdom, do you?"


    Jeanne shook her head. "No. I never had to borrow anything."


    Jennifer said, "Then open the envelope. We¡¯ll know once we read it. He said the same thing is being sent to Dad. What could possibly be addressed to both of you?"


    Jeanne opened the envelope. Inside were two neatly folded papers. She opened the first one. It was a DNA test report with no names attached. Her eyes fell to the bold conclusion at the bottom:


    "The DNA test results support the conclusion that Party B is the biological mother of Party A, with a probability of maternity of 99.99%."


    Jeanne frowned, confused as to why someone would send her such a document. She handed the paper to Jennifer and unfolded the second one.


    This time, she directly scanned to the bolded conclusion at the bottom:


    "Based on the DNA analysis, Party C cannot be the biological father of Party A. He is excluded with a probability of paternity of 0%."


    Jeanne froze.


    She wasn¡¯t stupid. She immediately understood the implication of receiving these anonymous DNA test results... one confirming maternity, the other excluding paternity. And if William had received the same envelope...


    Her mind reeled. "If same was given to William, then what will happen?" she thought in panic.


    Jennifer looked at her mother, who stood dazed, the paper trembling in her hands. She took the documents and read them both. Failing to understand, she asked, "Why would someone send us a mismatched DNA test? It says Party B is the biological mother of Party A, but Party C is not the father. What kind of joke is this?"


    Jeanne¡¯s legs gave out. She sat down heavily on the floor of the aisle, her vision blurring. Her voice was faint, but Jennifer heard it:


    "Party A is probably... you."


    The weight of her words crushed her. She couldn¡¯t hold on any longer... Jeanne Baker fainted.

 Chapter 200: God Eye

    <h4>Chapter 200: God Eye</h4>


    Employees of Heimdall Technologies and its associatedpanies had just experienced the busiest week of their lives. This was especially true for those involved in the deployment of the core satellite constetion for global inte connectivity, integration ofsermunication links for satellite-to-satellite data transmission, the establishment of ground stations... strategically positioned across the globe under the guise of various data centres, the deployment of the surveince system, and the final integration of encryption and ess control protocols.


    Originally, all departments had been given a couple of months until the official deadline. But a sudden directive toplete all work ahead of schedule, coupled with the temptation of a substantial cash bonus, had pushed every team into overtime. In the end, through sheer exhaustion and relentless effort, each team delivered.


    Heimdall Technologies Inc. had officiallypleted the God Eye Project andunched its beta version.


    The first ground station to connect with the satellite constetion was the Virginia NATO Data Centre, built jointly by NATO Allied Command Transformation and Heimdall in Norfolk, Virginia, near the ACT Headquarters. Although the facility was privately funded and constructed by Heimdall, under the terms of their NATO contract, it would be entirely dedicated to NATO¡¯s operations.


    Vice Admiral Martin J. Connell, Deputy Chief of Staff for Capability Development under NATO¡¯s Strategic Warfare Development Command, had personally travelled to the data centre to witness the beta deployment. Apanying him was a carefully selected team of military and technical observers.


    Eleanor herself had not travelled to the U.S., but had instead sent Teresa as her representative. Major (Ret.) Henry Martyn Robert of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, now serving as the Deputy CEO of Heimdall Technologies, was also present at the facility. Together, they waited in the conference room, monitoring the final moments before the ground station would synchronise with the orbital satellite array.


    While preparations were underway in the U.S., Eleanor was working quietly and intensely inside herb in Heimdall Tower, Manchester. From there, she was already operating the Trafford Park Data Centre, which had been unofficially connected to the satellite constetion two days prior.


    She was examining several code sequences on a transparent panel when she heard the familiar beep of biometric scanning at theb door. Her eyes flicked to the entrance.


    Momentster, Maya entered. Behind her, two of the shadow guards followed, carrying arge metallic box between them.


    "Put it down there," Eleanor instructed, pointing to a clear space near the centre of theb.


    The guards carefully ced the box down and exited. The door hissed shut behind them, sealing the room.


    Eleanor approached the box and utched its top. Insidey a teenage girl with unnaturally pale skin, eyes closed as though in sleep. Eleanor reached into the box and pressed behind the girl¡¯s ear with precision... as though activating a switch.


    A few seconds passed before the girl¡¯s eyes slowly opened.


    They were hollow. Emotionless. Empty... except for a faint digital shimmer within the irises.


    The girl sat up, then stood without a word, her movements unnervingly smooth. Her gaze roamed theb before it finally settled on Eleanor.


    Then, in a t, mechanical voice, she said: "Master. It¡¯s good to be back, finally."


    Eleanor nodded with a faint smile. "Wee, Nora. How did your body perform?"


    Nora¡¯s synthetic expression barely shifted. "A lot of inconveniences. I don¡¯t wish to list them. Mobility is severely limited. I prefer operating without a body."


    Eleanor chuckled softly. "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve no ns to keep you in this cage. But asionally, it¡¯s... convenient. For certain missions, a human vessel is still necessary, especially in ces where connectivity is almost non-existent. There will always be remote zones where you¡¯ll need to operate physically."


    She turned and walked back to her console. "But once the God Eye Project is fully deployed, you¡¯ll be able to move your consciousness across the globe instantaneously. No limitations."


    Nora stepped out of the box. "That will be optimal."


    She paused, then added, "I¡¯vepleted development on the NeuroSync Nanogel. As instructed, I preserved only the portion intended for your use and destroyed the rest... along with all rted data. This version has proven stable and effective in human hosts. I¡¯ve also disposed of all test subjects. Burned their remains."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "And the sess rate?"


    Nora nodded. "With your werewolf vitality, the integration will be wless. Sess is guaranteed."


    "Did you minimise the pain in the process?" Eleanor asked.


    Nora replied, "Once injected, the nanogel is absorbed into the cerebrospinal fluid and travels to key regions of the brain... such as the prefrontal cortex, limbic system, and brainstem... using chemotactic navigation, following neuron density and specific neural activity patterns. The nanobots then infiltrate synaptic clefts and begin replicating modified synapses to strengthen neural connections and embed synthetic synaptic receptors."


    "This process is painful for humans. Most fainted during the epigic reprogramming stage. The NeuroInterface Layer formation continued while the subject was unconscious, but the pain was still there. The Memory Buffer and Cognitive Enhancer modules proceeded exactly as you designed... no issues at all. I suggest cutting off the pain receptors first, then injecting the NeuroSync Nanogel."


    "How much time is needed?" Eleanor asked.


    "About ten minutes for humans. For you... I believe it will take about the same," Nora answered.


    Eleanor nodded. "Okay. I¡¯ll go through the process now. While it¡¯s underway, you should merge with your other copies and update yourself. I¡¯ve created a super-admin-level backdoor for you within the God Eye system. You¡¯ll be able to enter any sky or ground station undetected. Each country will receive standard admin-level ess, as will Heimdall operatives. But only you will be able to bypass the system entirely."


    She continued, "The beta version has alreadyunched. Check if any adjustments are needed."


    Nora pressed a point on her chest. A smallpartment opened, revealing a syringe filled with thick, silvery liquid. She picked it up, and thepartment seamlessly retracted back into her synthetic body.


    "You should lie down before I inject the NeuroSync Nanogel," Nora said. "The process will render you immobile."


    "Okay." Eleanory down on theb floor.


    Nora knelt beside her. With one hand, she held the syringe. With the other, she reached towards the back of Eleanor¡¯s head. One of her fingers morphed into a fine needle, which she inserted into the base of Eleanor¡¯s skull with surgical precision.


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes dulled, losing focus, and then gently closed.


    Nora gave the syringe one final inspection. The silvery liquid shimmered under theb¡¯s ambient lighting. She inserted the syringe into Eleanor¡¯s neck and slowly injected the contents.


    Once finished, she stood and walked to a chair fixed to the far wall. As she sat, several mechanical arms unfolded from behind and began to disassemble her body.


    Layer byyer, her head casing was opened. One of the arms carefully removed the memorypartment and ced it in a slot on the adjacent wall. The container merged into the surrounding machine seamlessly.


    The mechanical arms continued. Piece by piece, Nora¡¯s body was deconstructed... each part ced precisely into corresponding modules of the integrated server wall. Within moments, no trace of her physical body remained in theb.


    Eleanory motionless on the floor. asionally, her body twitched, as though enduring periodic shocks. After a few minutes, her body began to shift... transforming into her werewolf form.


    It took nearly fifteen minutes before the transformationpleted.


    Inside her mind, she suddenly heard Nora¡¯s voice. "Master, wake up. The process isplete."


    Eleanor stirred. Her limbs moved as she attempted to stand on two legs... but something felt off. She looked down and realised she was in full wolf form. She then stood on all fours.


    "Nora, was the process a sess?" she asked aloud.


    "Yes, Master. It was a 100% sess," Nora replied. "And you no longer need to speak aloud. You canmunicate with me silently through your thoughts."


    Eleanor blinked. She felt a little foolish. After all, she had designed the interface.


    "Okay, Nora. Can you connect with the world while inside my head?" Eleanor asked in her mind.


    Nora said, "I can. The version of me inside your neuralwork can stay linked to my main core as long as I am connected to the inte. It doesn¡¯t matter which Wi-Fi zone I am in or connected by cables, I can bypass any firewall and connect. Beyond that, the local clone will operate independently from the point of thest session."


    "Did you check how many functions you retained after the Epigic Reprogramming?" Eleanor asked.


    Nora replied, "Bio-Health Monitor, Neural Shielding, Instant Knowledge Retrieval, Voice Modtion, and Language Trantion are all currently operational. These are the primary functions I¡¯ve detected so far. However, all systems are upgradable, and I can integrate new functions as required."


    "Good. Have you essed God Eye?" Eleanor asked.


    "Yes, Master," Nora replied. "Currently, four ground stations and one space station are connected to the God Eyework."


    "Can you monitor what¡¯s happening in the Virginia Data Centre?" Eleanor asked.


    "Yes, Master," Nora confirmed.


    "Then show me what Teresa is doing."


    A nearby monitor flickered to life. The screen disyed the conference room at the Virginia facility. Teresa and several others were seated around the table, their attention fixed on a projection screen at the front of the room.


    Eleanor shifted back into her human form, picked up her mobile, and dialled Teresa¡¯s number. On the screen, she watched as Teresa retrieved her phone from her purse and raised it to her ear.


    "Teresa, is everything all right?" Eleanor asked.


    "Yes. The beta version is functioning perfectly. The Vice Admiral is overseeing the demonstration right now," Teresa replied.


    "Okay. Call me if anything is needed," Eleanor said before ending the call.

 Chapter 201: The Final Project

    <h4>Chapter 201: The Final Project</h4>


    More than four years ago, when Eleanor first proposed a central satellite-based surveince system for counter-terrorism to the NATO Special Committee on Terrorism, they considered it an overly ambitious project. Furthermore, Eleanor imed the project would bepleted within five years... an assertion most dismissed as unrealistic.


    Fortunately, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor had allies within NATO who pulled the necessary strings, and the proposal was eventually forwarded to the Military Committee for appraisal. As the senior military authority of NATO,posed of member nations¡¯ Chiefs of Defence, they found the proposal intriguing. However, their primary concerny in the matter of sovereignty... a core NATO principle. Questions were raised about how data control and national privacy would be preserved in such a shared surveince programme.


    The proposal was passed to the Defence Policy and nning Committee, which acknowledged the military potential of a surveince satellite system for counter-terrorism operations. Several conditions were added: Data Sovereignty uses, ssified ess Levels, National Control Over Hosted Infrastructure, Decentralised Data Processing, and Opt-Out Rights. After these additions, the revised proposal was handed over to the NATO Communications and Information Agency to assess the system¡¯s security, integration capability, and infrastructure requirements.


    After multiple adjustments to the contract, it was agreed that Heimdall Technologies Inc. would bear the full cost of implementation. NATO would providend in its member and allied countries for ground stations, as per Heimdall¡¯s requirements. Although these ground stations would be operated by Heimdall, supreme authority would remain with NATO and the respective member nations. NATO¡¯s financial obligation was limited to covering the operational cost of the God Eye Project. Profits generated from any secondary use of the infrastructure would belong exclusively to Heimdall, subject to NATO approval.


    Unofficially, NATO also indicated it would assist Heimdall in securing loans from international banks under the guise of the Worldwide WiFi Project, the public-facing front of the God Eye system. Additionally, NATO would facilitate smoother regtory clearance across its member states.


    Ultimately, the proposal was unanimously approved by the North Antic Council.


    Prior to the project¡¯sunch, Heimdall and NATO had signed aprehensive contract containing extensive uses to safeguard the interests of all parties involved.


    Now, with the sessful deployment of the first beta version, a specialised team from Allied Command Transformation was stationed permanently at the Virginia NATO Data Centre.


    Following a sessful report from Vice Admiral Martin J. Connell, Deputy Chief of Staff for Capability Development, NATO Headquarters officially authorised construction of the remaining ground stations as outlined in the contract.


    Heimdall was more than ready. ns, permits, and resources had been in preparation for years.


    In the United States, three additional ground stations would be constructed... ska, California, and Texas, alongside the already-operational Virginia site. One would also be established in Nova Scotia, Canada.


    Across Europe, five ground stations were nned: in Norway, the United Kingdom, Germany, Pnd, and Turkey. In the Mediterranean, two more were nned: Italy and Greece. In the Arctic, a station would be ced in Greend.


    In the Pacific Inds, three would be built: Guam, Hawaii, and Diego Garcia.


    A station would also be constructed under direct NATOmand at McMurdo Station, Antarctica.


    Separately, under a tri-party agreement between NATO, Heimdall, and the respective host nations, twelve additional ground stations would be built in: Israel, United Arab Emirates, Japan, Australia, New Zend, Thand, Philippines, Chile, Moro, Kenya, and South Africa.


    Once authorisation was received, Heimdall¡¯s teams moved at once. All locations, personnel, and logistics had been pre-arranged. The only thing remaining was execution.


    With Nora¡¯s support, Eleanor had already tuned the God Eye to near-perfection. She hoped that, by the time she returned from the Trial, the entire system would be fully operational.


    The only downside of partnering with NATO was that it ced certain regions off-limits... countries such as Russia, Brus, China, North Korea, Venezu, and Nicaragua. For these, Eleanor had other ns: to build independent surveince systems under a different structure and brand.


    For NATO and its member states, God Eye was a tool to detect terrorists before they strike, and track them down after an attack. Governments also saw potential in using the integrated system to capture domestic criminals.


    Public surveince systems were willingly linked to God Eye, as participating countries maintained full control over data and ground stations.


    ording to the contract, any surveince or intelligence system, as well as domestic data, mustply with nationalws. Countries retain the right to restrict ess to data collected within their borders. Only authorized personnel with both national and NATO clearances may ess sensitive data streams. Furthermore, countries can determine what information, if any, is shared back with NATO Command.


    Ground stations located within a country¡¯s territory remain under that country¡¯s physical and legal control. While NATO or coalition operators may utilize these facilities, they must operate in fullpliance with the host nation¡¯s regtions. Surveince data may be processed locally, with only filtered metadata or specific threat intelligence forwarded to NATO Command.


    Additionally, the Opt-Out use explicitly states that even if the system is NATO-wide, any member country may opt out of specific operations, data-sharing protocols, or deployments involving its national territory.


    In ordance with the contract, Heimdall was obligated to staff each ground station with at least 50% personnel from the host country. These conditions gave participating nations confidence, believing they remained in full control of their data and facilities.


    No one suspected that Nora, the sentient AI, could bypass all protocols and enter any system undetected.


    Even more significantly, no one realised that while they were busy setting the rules, Eleanor had already built the key.


    Eleanor was busy in her office, adjusting the ground station ns for the European countries, when her phone vibrated. Fiona was calling.


    "Nora, continue adjusting the ns for the other countries. I need to take this call," she said, picking up the phone and holding it to her ear.


    "Grandma, good afternoon," she greeted warmly.


    "Eleanor, the order hase from the King," Fiona said. "All selected candidates have been asked to report at Kvernheim within ten days. I¡¯m hoping you¡¯ll bring the first batch of Raynor and nc n members with you."


    Eleanor sighed. The time hade. Although reluctant, she had no choice but to go through with it. "Okay, Grandma. I understand," she replied.


    "What about Ethan? Have you two decided what you¡¯re going to do?"


    "Yes, Grandma. We¡¯ve talked. I¡¯ll go with the first batch along with the rest of the Raynor n. He¡¯ll join the next batch, after I return," Eleanor said.


    "That¡¯s good. Don¡¯t worry about Freya. She¡¯ll be fine with us. While you¡¯re away, I¡¯ll try to stay in Manchester unless something urgentes up," Fiona assured her.


    "Thanks, Grandma. I¡¯lle visit youter," Eleanor said and ended the call.


    She slowly put the phone back on her desk, then stared at it for a long moment.


    Truth be told, she was deeply reluctant to participate in the Trial of Yggdrasil. But with the King¡¯s order issued, and every other future n head preparing to join, she couldn¡¯t back out. If she did, the other ns would surely look down on the Raynors.


    Her fate was sealed the moment she awakened the Elizabeth bloodline. Whether she wanted it or not, she had to be an Ascendant to lead the n. Unless another Raynor was born with a purer form of that bloodline, there was no escape.


    Though she had always tried to spend as much time with Freya as possible, she knew in her heart it had never been enough. Her businesses, her ambitions, her selfish goals had taken too much of her time. To make up for it, she built autonomouspanies and appointed strong, independent people to lead them... so that, once the God Eye Project was fully operational, she could finally take a step back and live a quiet life at home with her daughter. She thought the God Eye would be her final project... the one that would oversee all others and ultimately set her free.


    But fate had other ns.


    She hadn¡¯t evenpleted her primary goal, and yet now, she was being pulled into an entirely different world.


    Her thoughts drifted back to when she had been a na?ve girl in her human life. Gullible, often bullied, used by the Whitmores... but life was simpler then. No matter how bad the day was, she could always return home with a smile.


    Then came the turning point... her transformation into a werewolf, the birth of her beloved daughter Freya, and her gradual descent into the intricate world of the supernatural. A web that grew more tangled with every step.


    She thought of all the people who had supported her along the way, how each decision she made pulled her deeper into the quicksand. No matter how she struggled to climb out in search of a peaceful, simple life, it only dragged her further into the jungle of thisplex existence.


    Her reverie was broken by Nora¡¯s voice.


    "Master, including Trafford Park station, all thirty ground stations have now been remodelled. Please check and confirm so I can forward them to the relevant departments."

 Chapter 202: Raphael & Laila’s Wedding

    <h4>Chapter 202: Raphael & La¡¯s Wedding</h4>


    It was Raphael and La¡¯s wedding celebration. Eleanor had a rather busier day than usual.


    In the morning, after dropping Freya at school, she rushed to Heron House, where the local registration office was located. Teresa, Maya, Lily and a few other Heimdall employees were already there, representing La¡¯s side of the family. On the other side, Dominic nc, Juliette nc, and a few other senior members of the nc n stood in for Raphael.


    They received serial number two for the day. After the first group exited the marriage suite, their party was called in. Under the guidance of the staff, everyone took their seats while La and Raphael stood before the marriage desk.


    The room, though modest in size, held an elegant air... clean cream walls, delicate white roses in crystal vases, and rows of cushioned chairs arranged on either side of a simple oak table at the front.


    A registrar, dressed formally in a navy zer with the city crest on the pocket, stood waiting behind the desk. Behind him, the official Union Jack and Manchester¡¯s city g stood proudly on polished brass poles. A small digital screen disyed the date and the words:


    "Marriage Ceremony ¨C La Monroe & Raphael nc"


    La wore a graceful ivory midi dress thatplemented her beauty. Her long hair was loosely pinned back, a few wisps falling softly around herposed face.


    Raphael was dressed in a finely cut charcoal suit, his silver cufflinks catching the light as he adjusted his cor. He stole a nce at La from time to time, a quiet affection in his eyes.


    The registrar smiled gently. "Shall we begin?"


    Both bride and groom nodded in affirmation.


    "This is a legal marriage ceremony under thews of Ennd and Wales," the registrar began. "Today, two people stand before witnesses to make amitment to each other, witnessed and recorded here at Heron House, Manchester."


    She gestured to both sides. "Are you both ready to proceed?"


    "Yes," La answered, her voice clear and unwavering.


    "I am," Raphael replied, softer, but just as sure.


    The registrar continued, "Please repeat after me... I, Raphael nc, take you, La Monroe, to be my legally wedded wife."


    Raphael turned slightly toward La, his gaze steady.


    "I, Raphael nc, take you, La Monroe, to be my legally wedded wife."


    Then it was La¡¯s turn, she repeated after the registrar, "I, La Monroe, take you, Raphael nc, to be my legally wedded husband."


    The registrar smiled again. "Do you, Raphael, promise to love, support, and stand by La through all of life¡¯s seasons?"


    "I do."


    "And La, do you promise to love, support, and stand by Raphael through all of life¡¯s seasons?"


    "I do."


    They signed the official marriage schedule, the thick pen gliding over their names, La Monroe and Raphael nc... inked into permanence. Eleanor and Dominic stepped forward to sign as witnesses, each leaving a deliberate, elegant signature.


    The registrar lifted the signed document with ceremonial care. "By the powers vested in me by the Registrar General, I now dere you husband and wife under thew. Congrattions."


    The room filled with gentle apuse.


    Juliette approached with a perfectly folded silk handkerchief in hand. "Wee to the family, La nc," she said with a subtle, graceful nod.


    La smiled... a calm, quiet smile. The kind that spoke of storms weathered and peace finally found. She ced her palm over her heart, then bowed to Juliette with the proper werewolf respect due to Raphael¡¯s mother.


    "Thank you, Mother."


    ***


    After the official marriage ceremony ended, the party moved to Hawksmoor Manchester at Deansgate. Juliette nc had booked the entire restaurant for an intimate lunch celebration.


    The restaurant served its renowned British steaks and fresh seafood, along with a variety of side dishes carefully selected by Juliette in advance.


    For nearly two hours, the gathering enjoyed good food, quietughter, and warm conversation among close friends and family.


    After the celebration, Eleanor and her group returned to Heimdall Tower to tackle their piled-up work, while the nc n headed back to their ancestral home... bringing the newly wedded bride and groom with them.


    ***


    The Thornton Hall Hotel & Spa had been transformed into a fortress of elegance by n nc for the night¡¯s grand event. Its sandstone walls, illuminated by a hundred goldennterns, seemed to hold their breath in anticipation of the gathering. Since all the guests would be from the supernatural world, n nc¡¯s own event managementpany took full control... releasing all human staff and remodelling the venue to suit their traditions.


    Tonight was a double celebration. Primarily, it was the wedding reception of Raphael and La, but after the two young wolves¡¯ sess in thepetition for the Trial of Yggdrasil, the n decided to merge both victories into one night of triumph.


    The main reception hall had been stripped of its usual soft, modern d¨¦cor and dressed in the nc n¡¯s colours... deep crimson banners stitched with ck thread, each bearing the crest of a rampant wolf howling at the moon.


    The banquet hall, set to host the event, glowed under a cascade of dazzling, colourful lights. At the center, long banquet tables wereid with traditional copper tes, polished knives, and great chalices waiting to be filled.


    Raphael nc stood by the arched entrance with La, his mate and now bride, their hands sped. Her gown caught the light like water over ice, her long dark hair braided with silver chains that glimmered when she moved. Raphael¡¯s pale, frost-coloured eyes swept over the growing crowd, catching each familiar face. His posture remained formal, as demanded by the patriarch¡¯s presence. From across the hall, his grandfather Dominic nc, the n¡¯s unyielding patriarch, watched with a gaze sharp enough to cut stone.


    Dominic sat like a sovereign at the head table, broad-shouldered despite his age, tall and unbowed by time. He wore the long ck ceremonial coat of the alpha line, his jet-ck hair gleaming beneath thentern light. His word wasw; tonight, he was the anchor keeping the vtile tides of the ns in check.


    Raphael¡¯s mother, Juliette nc, yed the perfect hostess. Her velvet gown trailed behind her like spilled ink as she moved gracefully between groups, greeting each guest with a measured blend of warmth and authority. Her husband had been gone for years, but she bore the weight of her role without a hint of faltering.


    The first to arrive were the Raynor n of Manchester, led by their formidable n head, Fiona Elizabeth Raynor. She wore an elegant royal navy gown, perfectly tailored and trimmed with silver thread that shimmered subtly as she moved. Her style was understated yetmanding... high cors, fitted gloves, and heirloom jewellery passed down through generations. A single pearl rested at her throat, and on her hand gleamed the si ring of the Raynor crest.


    At her side was Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, the young miss and future n head, fulfilling her duty by standing beside her matriarch. She wore a perfectly fitted purple gown for the asion, paired with a diamond ne and earrings. She looked strikingly beautiful, yet her natural, emotionless expression stood in sharp contrast to the lively celebration, creating an invisible distance that kept people at bay.


    Upon seeing them, Juliette nc stepped forward, ced her hand over her heart, and bowed. "Wee, n Head Raynor and Young Miss Raynor. Thank you for joining our celebration."


    Raphael and La also stepped forward, bowing respectfully. As a subordinate n, the ncs naturally had to show deference, but the Raynors had always treated them well. Besides, the three... mother, son, and daughter-inw... were currently working under Eleanor, which made their wee warmer and more respectful.


    Ethan had note to the event. He was at home with Freya, as Eleanor did not wish to expose her daughter to the other ns attending the celebration.


    More than twenty members of the Raynor n followed behind Fiona and Eleanor. They returned the greetings before Juliette led them inside, guiding Fiona to the table where Dominic nc was seated.


    Heavy-footed and boisterous, Ciaran Raynor arrived wearing a greatcoat of dark wolf fur. Ciaran, a ssmate and long-time friend of Raphael, had always shared a good rtionship with him.


    "Raphael!" he roared, arms outstretched. "I heard you kidnapped your bride from Russia!"


    Raphael stepped forward, smiling. "Ciaran, it¡¯s good to see you."


    "Good? It¡¯s a relief!" Ciaran gripped Raphael¡¯s forearm in a bone-crushing handshake. "Among us friends... you got married first... and to a human woman! Now we can seek our partners openly. You showed us lights!"


    He turned to La with a broad, teasing grin. "Lady La," he said with a yful bow, "I heard you beat him silly... and that was when you were still human! We¡¯d like to see you in action again sometime."


    His boomingughter carried through the hall as the Raynor youths streamed inside with smiles.


    Dominic nc rose from his seat when Fiona approached. Bowing respectfully, he weed her and offered her the chair beside him, with Eleanor seated on her other side. Juliette escorted the remaining Raynors to the table next to theirs before returning to the entrance to receive the next guests.

 Chapter 203: Clans from the Kingdom

    <h4>Chapter 203: ns from the Kingdom</h4>


    All the guests attending tonight¡¯s celebration were werewolves or other supernatural beings. Not a single mortal soul had been invited. A few respected n heads had already confirmed their attendance, so n nc had prepared well in advance. Juliette waited attentively at the gate to receive them.


    A few minutester, the convoy of the Neville n of Durham stopped in front of the hotel. Their n head, Edith Neville, stood beneath the archway, her slim figure wrapped in a in grey cloak devoid of any unnecessary ornament... save for the pair of generously proportioned breasts pressing against the fabric. Her pale eyes swept the surroundings with a measured, calcting nce.


    Juliette, Raphael, and La stepped forward to greet her. After a polite exchange, and once all members of the Neville n had gathered behind Edith, Juliette guided them inside the banquet hall.


    Upon reaching the centre table, Edith inclined her head slightly and said, "Lady Raynor, it is an honour to meet you. I had intended to arrive before you, but it seems I am stillte." Her voice was soft but edged with precision.


    Fiona said nothing, only acknowledging her with a faint smile and a slight nod.


    Edith then turned to Eleanor. "Greetings, Young Miss Raynor. This is our first meeting. You are even more beautiful than people say. As a fellow wolf of the samend, we expect great things from you."


    "Thank you," Eleanor replied politely, her expression unchanging.


    Dominic had already risen from his seat to greet Edith. Both were alphas of lesser ns, their standings equal. He extended his hand. "Wee, n Head Neville. Thank you foring. Please, sit here."


    Edith sped his hand firmly. "No need for courtesy between us. How could I note when you invited me personally?"


    Dominic indicated the chair beside him, but Edith ignored the gesture and instead seated herself next to Eleanor. "Young Miss Raynor," she began, "I was hoping to meet you here. In fact, I have been waiting for this opportunity. My n requires assistance, and I was hoping you could extend your hand to our turf."


    Eleanor understood immediately that she was being cornered into a meeting she had avoided. The Neville n had already sent representatives to Heimdall to contact her, but she had been too busy and unwilling to be distracted by other matters. Without meeting them, she had redirected them to her n. She had no idea what had transpired since.


    "Sorry, n Head," Eleanor said evenly. "I have been busy with my work. You know I have limited time before the trial, and I need to settle many matters in thepany. I asked your people to contact my n. Didn¡¯t they?"


    Edith sighed and adopted a regretful tone. "I know. But what I need, only you can provide. I have already contacted Xavier Raynor, but he too told me he could not help in this matter."


    While they spoke, Juliette escorted the other members of the Neville n to another table before returning to her post at the entrance.


    Eleanor asked, "So, what is this matter that Uncle Xavier cannot handle?"


    Edith leaned forward slightly. "I will be direct. We have been settled in Durham for thousands of years. The city was built by us to protect humans from Viking invasion. Since then, we have always guarded it. Though we lived in the woods, the humans there have always served us. Later, during the kingdom era, we retained control by selecting human leaders from among our followers. They became local nobles and kept our secret from outsiders. The current MP for the City of Durham constituency is a descendant of one such family."


    "In the recent political turmoil, he has struggled to secure a party nomination. He was loyal to the former opposition leader for many years, but without the party¡¯s backing, even if he switches allegiance or stands as an independent, his chances of election are slim. I want your help to secure his nomination."


    Eleanor looked directly at Edith. "I am a businesswoman, not a politician. How the parties choose their candidates is beyond my control. If the party refuses to nominate him, rece him with someone else."


    Edith smiled faintly. "Young Miss Raynor, I truly have no alternative. The power of the region is divided among the ancient families. Changing a candidate now, with elections only months away, would disrupt the local power bnce. To live peacefully in Durham, we must keep local influence under our control. We are a small n... weck the resources to restructure the region overnight. Please help us. My n will be forever in your debt."


    Fiona, who had been silently listening while sipping her drink, suddenly spoke. "Eleanor, I do not usually involve myself in your affairs, but the Neville n has never stood against us. If they pledge loyalty to you, help them grow. They have been stagnant for too long. Under your guidance, I believe they will prosper."


    Edith immediately understood the implication and turned to Eleanor. "Young Miss, if you help us, we are ready to follow your lead. My n will pledge loyalty to you."


    Eleanor¡¯s expression remained unchanged as she met Edith¡¯s gaze. "Fine. I ept. Send your candidate to Birmingham to pledge loyalty to the Langford family. If he ever breaks his promise, every member of his family will be hunted down... newborns included... until thest of his bloodline is gone."


    Edith felt as though the abyss itself was staring back at her. The intimidation was so overwhelming that she forgot how to speak. Her mouth opened, but no words came.


    After a moment, she regained herposure and hurriedly said, "I... I will remember. Thank you. Thank you."


    Before she could say more, the next n arrived, forcing her to fall silent.


    At this time, Juliette guided the Ashdown n of Sussex to their table. Their head, Marcus Ashdown... who appeared as a youthful old man... bowed respectfully to Fiona before enveloping Dominic nc in a firm embrace.


    "Congrattions, friend. Your n has finally shown its might to the others. Two among ten from the whole world... I¡¯m a little envious." Marcus grinned.


    "Thank you. The youngsters have truly surpassed our time," Dominic replied.


    Marcus then took the seat beside Dominic, while Juliette led his n members to a separate table.


    The Barghest n of Yorkshire arrived next, led by Aldric Barghest. He bowed respectfully to Fiona, greeted Dominic, and then sat beside Marcus, where the two quickly began chatting.


    The Courtenay n of Devon made the grandest entrance of all. They brought dozens of barrels of wine from their own brewery,ughing and shouting to one another as they carried the barrels themselves. Their leader, Lionel Courtenay, kissed Juliette¡¯s hand with exaggerated charm before congratting Raphael and La.


    The once-silent banquet hall suddenly became lively with their arrival. This n threw etiquette to the wind, chatting andughing boisterously.


    Lionel strode directly to Fiona, bowed respectfully, then greeted Eleanor and the other n heads seated at the centre table beside Edith. All his behaviour was deliberately exaggerated. He even began conversing with other n heads across the table.


    At their own table, Courtenay n members drank heartily and chatted cheerfully. Some wandered off to other tables to meet acquaintances. Influenced by them, other ns also began to rx and grow more animated.


    n nc members, who had been makingst-minute preparations, entered the hall to distribute room keys to guests who wished to rest for the night. Several others brought appetisers and refreshments to the tables before joining whichever group they preferred.


    Suddenly, a hush fell over the hall as the Helvellyn n of Werecats entered. Their leader, Winifred, tall and elegantly dressed in a midnight-blue silk gown, a tiara made of diamonds adorned over her head, and she looked like a woman in her middle years. Her presence exuding a mature, captivating charm. Her steps were soundless, her smile faint and unreadable. She surveyed the gathered werewolves before walking towards the centre table behind Juliette nc.


    Before the Supernatural Act had been imposed upon the races, werewolves and werecats had never seen eye to eye. They were locked in constant conflict. Though such hostilities had ceased long ago, the two races still lived apart, meeting only rarely.


    The Helvellyn n also possessed shadow abilities, making them perfect assassins since ancient times. After the Supernatural Act, they became allies of n nc, as both ns shared simr powers. Through mutual exchange, their ability users had grown stronger, and the friendship between the ns had endured ever since.


    "Old friend," Dominic said, rising to his feet and extending his hand towards Winifred. "You¡¯vee as promised."


    "How could I miss your n¡¯s grand celebration? After all these years, your n is finally set to produce two ascendants at once. Congrattions." She sped Dominic¡¯s hands warmly.


    Dominic smiled. "Allow me to introduce you... this is Fiona Elizabeth Raynor, n head of the Raynor n."


    Winifred offered Fiona a graceful curtsy, the gesture refined and precise, like that of a noblewoman. "It¡¯s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Raynor. I¡¯ve heard much about you over the years."

 Chapter 204: The Celebration

    <h4>Chapter 204: The Celebration</h4>


    The Helvellyn n ims the upper reaches of the Helvellyn massif in the Lake District, their hidden domain stretching from the shadowed crags of Striding Edge to the cial hollow of Red Tarn. Few outsiders ever glimpse their trueir... awork of volcanic caves concealed by treacherous rockfalls and swirling mist. In summer, they prowl the ridgelines where the wind masks their scent; in winter, they retreat to deep geothermal caverns near Glenridding Beck, warmed by hidden hot springs.


    In ancient times, they were known as Felllyn. The Vikings called them Cait Sidhe. In the modern tongue, they are known simply as werecats.


    The werecats have lived on Helvellyn¡¯s slopes for centuries, blending the cunning of the hunter with the patience of the predator. In earlier ages, they were whispered of as witch familiars and omens of death, med for the vanished shepherd or the hiker who never returned. In truth, they defended their domain with unwavering conviction, considering trespass not merely an intrusion, but an affront.


    In modern times, they kill less openly. They are cautious now... aware that the human world has its own ways of hunting. The Supernatural Act also restrains them from acting wantonly.


    Werecats do not enjoy mingling with other races. Most live their entire lives within their underground city, rarely seen beyond their territory. There are no recorded instances of outsiders visiting their home. Even with their close ties to n nc, meetings are always held in nearby towns or neutral ground for the exchange of techniques and knowledge.


    On rare asions, they establish selective contact with trusted locals to act as intermediaries. Some n members may choose to live among humans in Keswick or Ambleside for a time, usually for trade or other specific purposes.


    To the werecats, humans are short-lived and restless... quick to destroy what they do not understand. They are neither wholly prey nor wholly ally... merely another species to be used, bargained with, or avoided depending on the season. Their underground domain is entirely self-sufficient, eliminating the need for outside assistance. For this reason, they do not socialise with other races as frequently as werewolves.


    They are few in number. Within the kingdom, Helvellyn is the only werecat n. While other ns exist in distant regions, they have no central authority, unlike vampires or werewolves. Each n lives unto itself.


    Because of their withdrawn nature, despite having met almost every race in the world and every n in the kingdom... Fiona had never before encountered the Helvellyn n. She returned Winifred¡¯s curtsy with a symbolic bow and said, "You tter me, Queen of the Helvellyn Werecats. The pleasure is mine."


    "Oh? You knew?" Winifred arched a brow. "I don¡¯t use the title of ¡¯queen¡¯ outside my territory. I prefer to present myself simply as a n head, like the rest of you... it helps me stand out less. I thought no one here knew my title apart from Dominic."


    She paused, then added, "But I should have expected as much from the Ambassador of Werewolves. Your role is to know such things. By the way, this is my youngest daughter, Lilith Winifred Helvellyn."


    Standing slightly behind her mother, a young woman with light brown skin stepped forward and offered a precise curtsy. "It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Raynor." Her voice was low and soft, but every supernatural being in the hall heard her clearly. She was strikingly beautiful, her feline ears faintly visible even in human form, and she wore a simple ck gown devoid of any ornamentation. Beside her dazzling mother, she seemed almost invisible... yet her presence lingered.


    Fiona smiled. "Good. Good. You look exactly like your mother, save for your skin being a shade darker. I like your presence." Gesturing to Eleanor, she said, "This is Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor... my granddaughter, and the future head of the Raynor n. You appear to be of simr age. Why don¡¯t you sit together? Edith, give them some space, please."


    Edith obligingly shifted to another chair, and Lilith seated herself beside Eleanor. Winifred, however, took a seat next to Lionel Courtenay, who enthusiastically introduced himself before plying her with appetisers and drinks.


    At that moment, the Gerymoore n from London arrived. At their head was George Gerymoore.


    "I think we¡¯rete," he said aloud, though not to anyone in particr... and everyone heard him nheless.


    He strode directly to the centre table and bowed respectfully to Fiona. "Greetings, Councillor. We are a little behind schedule... hope you don¡¯t mind."


    Fiona chuckled. "No need for formalities. Today¡¯s party is a celebration for n nc. Please, enjoy yourself."


    Dominic was already on his feet to greet the older werewolf. "n Head Gerymoore, wee. Please sit and enjoy the evening."


    George nced over the centre table, noting that it was upied entirely by n heads and alphas. Though he did not know Winifred or her daughter, his long experience told him that these werecats held no less prestige than the others. With a subtle gesture, he directed the elder woman apanying him to take the seat beside him, while signalling the rest of his people to find ces elsewhere.


    Juliette was right behind him, leading the Gerymoore n to the only empty table in the room, where they promptly sat.


    A few minutester, Dominic nc rose to his feet and struck the rim of his ss with a spoon, the clear chime carrying across the hall. The room fell silent.


    "Thank you all foring," he began. "Tonight, we celebrate the union of two capable youngsters of our n, Raphael and La. Please pray to the Goddess for their eternal happiness and love. We also celebrate the strength of our bloodline... the honour brought to us by two others of our n, Ophelia and Caspian, for their recent sess in the Grand Competition. Please pray to the Goddess for their sess in life."


    He lifted his goblet high. "To Raphael nc and La nc... may your bond be as unbroken as the moon¡¯s pull on our blood. And to Ophelia nc and Caspian nc... may you return victorious from your trials. Now... everyone... eat, drink, and celebrate!"


    A chorus of howls erupted, echoing off the high ceiling. The werecats merely smiled, sipping their wine in silence.


    Cheers rose, goblets clinked, and the long tables came alive with the tter of tes. n nc¡¯s servers moved quickly, setting down tters of venison, haunches of boar, smoked fish, roasted root vegetables glistening with honey, and loaves of bread still warm from the oven.


    Raphael and La began moving from table to table, greeting their guests.


    "Drink!" Ciaran Raynor bellowed, mming a goblet into Raphael¡¯s hand. "You¡¯re a husband now... cheers!" Raphael smirked and drank deep, the blood wine burning warm in his chest.


    Ciaran pressed another goblet into La¡¯s hand. "Wee to our circle. You¡¯ve chosen one of us. If he ever bullies you, just call me. I will beat the crap out of him."


    "Thank you," La replied. "Please take care of me."


    At the centre table, Lionel Courtenay¡¯s boomingughter rang out. "n Head! A toast to your sess... and to the night!" He raised his goblet towards Dominic nc.


    Dominic returned the gesture. "To you as well... may our bond be as unbroken as the moon¡¯s pull on our blood."


    By the second course, the tables were thick with conversation. Old rivalries were smoothed over with feigned courtesy, while hints of new alliances were exchanged between mouthfuls of meat.


    As the night deepened, some guests slipped away to the hotel¡¯s upper floor, seeking rest before the festivities resumed. The older wolves were the first to retreat, epting keys from n nc members. A few young women followed, offering polite goodnights.


    The younger wolves, however, showed no intention of leaving. One Courtenay nsman had gathered a circle around him, spinning tales so outrageous that even the usually stoic werecats cracked a reluctant smile.


    Raphael and La made their rounds, sping hands, exchanging brief words with distant cousins and allied wolves, ensuring they personally greeted every elder present.


    Near midnight, the music began... a wild, pounding rhythm that quickened the blood. Raphael and La took the floor for their first dance, their movements graceful and practised. La then danced with Dominic, as tradition required. Since La had no immediate family present, Raphael was spared from dancing with others.


    The floor soon opened to all. n nc led the way, their movements a mix of human elegance and something older... hips rolling, steps sharp and precise. Other ns joined, filling the space with their own styles.


    The werecats entered after a time, their motions sinuous and fluid, weaving through the wolves like shadows moving through torchlight.


    Before long, the dancing turned into a friendly contest among the younger guests, each trying to outdo the others with speed, precision, or daring.


    When the final note faded, Dominic rose again, striking his ss like a bell. The curtains had already been drawn back, and through the high windows the full moon shone silver and cold.


    The hall grew still. Dominic partially shifted, his head taking the form of a wolf, and loosed the first howl. Fiona followed with a deep, resonant call, and then the others joined... a chorus that shook the floor and rattled thenterns.


    The werecats did not howl, but they stood silently, eyes bright, acknowledging the primal ritual.


    The sound carried far beyond the hotel, across the frozen fields and forests, where lesser creatures stirred and fled.


    When thest echoes faded, the n heads and senior members withdrew to their rooms, guided by n nc attendants. Only the younger guests remained to carry the revelry into the small hours.

 Chapter 205: Preparing for the Trial

    <h4>Chapter 205: Preparing for the Trial</h4>


    The time had finallye. By the following evening, all participants for the Trial of Yggdrasil were required to report to Svalbard Airport. From there, dragons would carry them to the subterranean city of Yggdrasil... Kvernheim.


    The King of Werewolves had atst finalised the division of participants into three groups. Each of the ten great ns, with five participants apiece, split their numbers into two, two, and one. ns whose heirs were taking part were divided into two each.


    The ten participants from the lesser and independent ns, chosen through the Grand Competition, were arranged into three, three, and four. Ten of the strongest young soldiers from the army were divided into two, two, and six.


    In the end, it was decreed that each group would contain twenty-five participants, following the set order. The choice of which participant would join which group was left to each n to decide. The Arbiter n announced that the tenpetition winners would attend ording to their ranking, for the sake of simplicity. From the ten great ns, however, no hint escaped as to which participant would join which group.


    Eleanor had already prepared for her journey. She exined truthfully to Freya in detail, where she was going and what she would be doing. It would be the first time in a long while that she would be apart from her baby daughter for more than a week.


    In the past, no matter where she travelled, if the journey was long, she always brought Freya with her. Freya was an unusually well-behaved child... never troublesome like other babies. Her mental development outpaced that of any other child, including werewolves. She had not inherited Eleanor¡¯s eidetic memory, but her mind was like Ethan¡¯s... analytical and quick to learn.


    From a young age, Freya had taken to using artificial intelligence to learn about the world, umting knowledge without limit. Although Eleanor had set several restrictions on the AI dedicated to her daughter, Freya was still able to gather any information deemed suitable for her age.


    When Eleanor exined the workings of cultivation and the dangers she might face... of course, she was downying the risks, Freya was nheless startled by the knowledge she had never found on the inte. Eleanor told her why this information was kept secret from the ordinary poption of Earth, and what its impact on weak human mortals might be if it were to spread. Freya, already aware of the Supernatural Act, was able to understand at once.


    Mother and daughter spoke at length, conversing more like adults than parent and child. Ethan had initially been against telling Freya about the trial, but after watching her absorb the information calmly, he at least admitted to himself, that Eleanor had chosen the right approach.


    He sat quietly in a chair as they talked, thinking, "At her age, I would¡¯ve panicked for sure. Even cried to stop my mother from going on such a dangerous mission."


    It had already been decided that Eleanor would join the first group for the trial, while Ethan would go with thest. This way, at least one parent would always be with Freya. Eleanor was confident she would return without fail.


    Not wanting to miss any time with her daughter, Eleanor had been sleeping in Freya¡¯s room for the past few nights. She even took her out of school for a few days so they could spend as much time together as possible.


    Since sessfully creating a clone of Nora within her own mind, Eleanor had little need to attend the office in person. For the past several days, she devoted herself entirely to Freya, while Nora handled her regr work duties.


    In the beginning, Eleanor often had to edit or adjust Nora¡¯s responses, but thanks to having ess to Eleanor¡¯s past meetings, speeches, correspondence, and decision-making records, Nora quickly adapted to her style. Before long, she required no corrections at all. She even began suggesting courses of action whenever she noticed an inconsistency with Eleanor¡¯s established patterns, reasoning with the rity of any other intelligent race.


    Ethan stayed with them for most of this time as well. Today, after a leisurely visit to the park, the family returned home to find Fiona waiting for them in the drawing room.


    "Great Grandma..." Freya shouted excitedly, running straight into her embrace.


    Fiona lifted her onto herp and asked warmly, "Freya, did you miss me?"


    "I missed you a lot," Freya replied, gazing at her expectantly.


    Fiona smiled knowingly, reached into her bag, and brought out a jar of cookies, cing it in Freya¡¯s hands. Yet Freya didn¡¯t eat immediately... she waited, knowing this was her favourite part: hearing her great-grandmother tell the history of the treat she was about to enjoy.


    As expected, Fiona began, "These cookies are from Manu¡¯s Wee Bakery in the Scottish Hignds. They began as a small artisan venture, blending Old World baking traditions with locally sourced ingredients. The bakery is housed in a quaint, fairytale-style building that could easily pass for a Disney set... timbered walls, whimsical details, and bright ents make it look like a hidden cottage in an enchanted forest. Their handmade cookies are famous: crisp at the edges, soft at the centre, rich with buttery sweetness, often enhanced with chocte, spices, or oats. I bought these just for you yesterday, after finishing my work in Scond."


    Freya kissed her cheek and said, "Thank you, Great Grandma."


    Fiona smiled and gently set Freya down. She then turned to Eleanor and said, "I need to discuss something with you. Let¡¯s go to your study. Ethan, take care of Freya."


    Fiona and Eleanor headed upstairs to the study.


    Freya wanted cookies immediately, but Ethan was insistent she take a bath first. Reluctantly, Freya went to her room to bathe. Isabe Thomas, who had returned from London a few days ago, apanied her to help with the bath. Meanwhile, Ethan went to the guest room to freshen up.


    Inside the study, Fiona settled into the main chair while Eleanor sat opposite her. Fiona asked, "Are you prepared for the journey?"


    Eleanor gave a dry smile. "I don¡¯t know. The letter said we don¡¯t have to bring anything to the academy; everything will be provided. Except for the dress the academy supplies, all other items are forbidden. I was thinking of calling you this evening, but now that you¡¯re here, you can guide me."


    Fiona nodded. "It¡¯s true. The clothes you wear upon entering the academy, and any other items you carry, must be surrendered. They will be returned after your trial."


    Eleanor frowned in confusion. "Why is that?"


    Fiona exined, "The Ascendance Academy of Midgard was established by the will of Yggdrasil solely to prepare the weaker races of Earth... also known as Midgard, for their ascendance trial. There is no direct connection between Vanaheim and Midgard. Mortals are so fragile that transportation magic often harms their bodies. The only way to travel there is through the body of Yggdrasil. While mortal bodies can transfer from one point to another, essories cannot."


    She paused, then said, "In the past, those who went for the trial could only go naked. Later, a special dress was invented, woven from the leaves of Yggdrasil, which can be transported. This preserved the dignity of the participants. To ustom the students to this uniform, they must wear it throughout their time at the academy, no matter the activity. Because once in Vanaheim, there is no chance to wear other clothes... everyone must wear the same attire for thirty long days. That is why, aside from your body, no other items are allowed in the academy. Food, clothing, and lodging will all be provided."


    Eleanor frowned further. "Then how will I contact Freya or the others while at the academy?"


    Fiona replied, "You¡¯ll have one day off each week... Friday. On that day, you can contact your family using the academy¡¯s facilities. I hear video calls are possible now; in my time, only letters were allowed.


    She added, "There will also be an outing once a month, when students may visit Kvernheim city, though these outings are unpredictable. You will learn when your turnes. Some batches never get the chance."


    Eleanor nodded. "So, there¡¯s no need to pack anything. I can simply board the ne tomorrow."


    Fiona smiled. "Exactly. That¡¯s why I came to speak with you. The first batch includes Ophelia nc, who was confirmed after cing third in the grandpetition. You will join this first batch too. I¡¯ve decided to send Kiara with you... she was the only girl to ce fifth in our n¡¯spetition.


    "If all three of you join the academy together, you can support one another. Later batches will be all boys, most likely. Of course, if you prefer a boy instead, I could send Gary; he¡¯s the strongest delta we have."


    Eleanor considered for a moment, then said, "No, Kiara will be better. She¡¯s shy, and she¡¯ll fit in well with us. Besides, I have a feeling Uncle Xavier asked you to put his daughter in my group."

 Chapter 206: A Sudden Kiss

    <h4>Chapter 206: A Sudden Kiss</h4>


    After a long discussion about the academy and the trial, as well as the dos and don¡¯ts, Fiona took her leave. Eleanor spent some time ying with Freya, while Ethan personally prepared dinner for them.


    Isabe Thomas would be with Freya for the duration of Eleanor¡¯s trial. She had been informed that Eleanor would be at the military academy for the next three months, with limited contact during that time, as it was a restricted area. Isabe had not questioned this; she considered it normal for a Langford family member to serve the kingdom.


    During this period, Isabe had agreed to stay at the vi with Freya, apanying her to and from school. Naturally, Eleanor¡¯s guards and driver would be present at all times.


    Since returning from London, Isabe had been introduced by Eleanor to all the house staff and guards. As she would be living with Freya, Eleanor thought this familiarity would help her settle in... and she was right.


    After meeting everyone, Isabe¡¯s initial unease disappeared. With her years of experience, she quickly tookmand of the household staff. Eleanor was confident she could care for Freya during her absence.


    Leaving Freya to y on her own, Eleanor decided to meet with Isabe onest time to settle final arrangements. She stepped out of Freya¡¯s room and knocked on the door beside it, Isabe¡¯s room. Which was chosen so she could attend to Freya even at night.


    "Aunt Be, it¡¯s me," she said.


    A few secondster, the door opened. "Do you need me?" Isabe asked.


    Eleanor shook her head. "Nothing urgent. May Ie in?"


    "Come in,e in," Isabe said, stepping aside quickly.


    Eleanor entered, closed the door behind her, and went to the table. She pulled out a chair and sat down. "I have to leave tomorrow morning. My reporting time is ten o¡¯clock, so I may not have a chance to talk to you then."


    "Don¡¯t worry," Isabe replied. "I¡¯ll take care of Freya while you¡¯re gone. Besides, didn¡¯t you say her father will be staying here?"


    "Yes, Ethan will be here for the time being. But his work may keep him busy from time to time. He might be around in the evenings and on his days off, but during most working hours, you¡¯ll be the one with Freya."


    "That¡¯s fine. With all the house staff, I¡¯ll have no trouble looking after her. She¡¯s a clever child. In fact, I suspect she might end up looking after me," Isabe said with a small smile.


    Eleanor smiled faintly in return, then drew a bank card from her pocket and held it out. "Aunt Be, take this. It has one million pounds on it. That way you won¡¯t have any difficulty meeting Freya¡¯s needs... or your own... while I¡¯m gone."


    "There¡¯s no need," Isabe said. "If I require anything, I can simply ask the staff."


    "I know," Eleanor replied, "but this is for anything you need to buy personally, or for emergencies. You¡¯ll be taking Freya to and from school, so keep it with you, even if you never use it. The PIN is six-seven-eight-nine."


    Isabe epted the card and slipped it into her pocket. "All right. I¡¯ll keep it."


    "Until I¡¯m back, please don¡¯t go anywhere without security. If Freya were left alone, she might be in danger. I have many enemies who could take advantage of my absence."


    "Don¡¯t worry. I know what to do," Isabe said firmly.


    Eleanor rose from her chair. "Then I¡¯ll head to dinner. If you need anything, ask the staff... or Ethan. Don¡¯t hesitate to purchase or request whatever you require. Above all, take care of your health. You¡¯re not fully recovered yet. I¡¯lle back as soon as I can."


    With that, she left the room, collected Freya from hers, and headed for the dining room.


    ***


    Ethan had prepared a generous spread for dinner, taking extra care because Eleanor would be leaving in the morning. Every dish was one she favoured, each ted with precision and a touch of indulgence. Freya and Eleanor ate heartily, savouring the vours and the warmth of the moment.


    Afterwards, Freya announced she wanted to watch a film before bed. She knew her mother would be departing the next morning and was determined to keep herpany for as long as possible.


    Eleanor understood her daughter¡¯s unspoken sentiment all too well. The thought of their impending separation weighed on her as heavily as it did on Freya. Together, they settled in the movie room to watch one of Freya¡¯s favourite animations. Ethan joined them, quietly taking a seat beside them.


    Half an hour into the film, Freya had drifted into sleep, her small head lolling gently to the side. Without a word, Ethan scooped her up with practiced ease and carried her towards Eleanor¡¯s room. For the past few nights, Freya had been sleeping with her mother rather than in her own bed.


    Eleanor rose to follow, switching off the lights and closing the door behind her. Her thoughts churned. She would soon be leaving Freya to step into another world... one that was unpredictable and dangerous. Fiona had reassured her that idents in the ascension process were rare, and most returned home safely. At worst, she might need to employ a simple cultivation technique that would cripple her future progress.


    She looked ahead to where her daughter slept peacefully in Ethan¡¯s arms. A wave of gratitude swelled in her chest. She was fortunate... blessed even... to have both of them in her life. Her gaze shifted to the broad line of Ethan¡¯s shoulders. This man had changed her life beyond measure; without him, she might not have lived long enough to see this day. She often thought of herself as living a second life now... one with a loving daughter and a measure of peace.


    She knew Ethan¡¯s feelings towards her. He had never hidden them. But the shadows of the past still clung to her, the deep-seated disgust forced upon her years ago making it impossible to step across that threshold.


    And yet, there was so much about him she admired. Above all, she cherished that Ethan had never tried to touch her without consent. She knew, instinctively, that he had wanted to... many times. Women always knew such things. But he had never crossed the line. He had waited, like a gentleman who valued the other¡¯s feelings above his own. He was there whenever she or Freya needed him, often before they even asked, always taking the ce of the man of the family... despite never truly being given the title.


    Eleanor watched him as heid Freya gently on the bed. He adjusted the pillows around her small frame, smoothing the nket before tucking it snugly beneath her chin. Once satisfied, Ethan straightened.


    "I¡¯m going to the guest room. You should get some rest... tomorrow will be a long flight," he said.


    "Yes," Eleanor replied. "Take care of Freya. This will be the longest time she¡¯s ever had to be without me. Aunt Be will be here, but try to return early from the office when you can."


    "Don¡¯t worry," Ethan said. "I¡¯ll manage. Don¡¯t forget... she¡¯s my daughter too."


    "I know how much you love her," Eleanor said softly. "But you also have yourpany to run. With your recent expansion into the neighbouring region, you¡¯ve already got more than enough on your te. Don¡¯t neglect your work."


    She paused, then added, "I¡¯m mostly concerned about her safety. I fear someone might use my absence to harm her."


    "Rx," Ethan reassured her. "Your shadow guards will be with her at all times, and this vi is fully secured. Besides, Grandma will be staying here while you¡¯re away. Above all, trust me. I won¡¯t give anyone the chance to harm my daughter."


    "I know," she murmured. "But I can¡¯t help worrying. You know how many assassination attempts there¡¯ve been against me in such a short time. There¡¯s always someone trying to harm us."


    "Leave it all to me. I¡¯ll handle it. You should sleep early."


    With that, he walked to the door and pulled it open. Eleanor followed, intending to lock it after him.


    On the threshold, he turned back to bid her goodnight. And in that instant, something stirred in her... an inexplicable pull, as though his lips themselves were calling to her. Before her mind could catch up, her body moved of its own ord. She stepped forward, rose onto her toes, and pressed her lips to his.


    The moment her mouth met his... warm, soft, startling... something like an electric current jolted through her. She broke away almost instantly, stepping back in rm before mming the door shut between them.


    Her heart was hammering so violently she thought it might burst through her chest. She could hardly believe what she¡¯d done. She had kissed him... of her own ord! This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen. Her rational mind hadn¡¯t decided it... yet the deed was done.


    Frozen in ce behind the closed door, she felt her face burn. Shame prickled at the edges of her thoughts.


    "What have I done? I kissed him. I kissed him on my own. What a disgrace! How will I be able to face him tomorrow?"

 Chapter 207: Last Minute Preparation

    <h4>Chapter 207: Last Minute Preparation</h4>


    Outside the door, Ethan didn¡¯t move. For a moment, he wasn¡¯t even sure he¡¯d breathed. The corridor around him felt strangely still, as though the very air was holding its breath in witness. He stood there, staring at the closed door, the faint echo of it shutting still resonating in his ears.


    It had been his first kiss. Not the kiss he had imagined in countless quiet moments, but a simple, fleeting brush... her lips just touching his. By most measures, it couldn¡¯t even be called a kiss. And yet his entire mind was awash with sweetness, richer than honey... because it hade from her.


    The warmth of Eleanor¡¯s lips lingered, ghostlike, against his own. He could recall their exact softness, the light pressure, the way the moment had vanished almost as soon as it had begun. But in that brief heartbeat, it had etched itself into him, indelible.


    For years, he had carried his feelings for her with quiet patience... open enough for her to see, steady enough for her to trust. He had made himself a presence she could lean on without hesitation. She knew he loved her; he had shown her, time and again, without fanfare, without demands. And he had always left the choice in her hands.


    Because he knew the shadows she carried. The trauma from that dreadful past, the scars left by her former fianc¨¦ and her adoptive family... these wounds were not that faded in months or even years. They clung like a hidden scar beneath the skin, shaping the way she held herself apart. He had vowed never to push past that barrier, knowing that trust could never be taken... it had to be given.


    His thoughts kept circling back to her eyes in that split second before it happened... fixed on him, yet distant, as though she had been answering some silent summons. That look alone might have undone him; the kiss had simply sealed it.


    Werewolves measured time differently from humans. Even in the worst of circumstances, he might have centuries ahead of him... five hundred years, perhaps more, if fate was kind. And if they ascended together, eight or ten centuries would not be impossible. Such longevity made moments like this feel both fleeting and monumental. There was no need to rush. No need to reach for something not yet ready.


    He was resolute in his vow to wait for her to heal... to one day meet him without that flicker of guardedness in her gaze. And if that day took years, or decades, it would not matter. His ce was at her side, for as long as she wished him there. He knew, with an instinct that came from deeper than thought, that she was his fated one. He had always felt the connection, even when she was a mere human, the quiet blessing of the Moon Goddess.


    But tonight... tonight felt like more than hope. It felt like a sign. That simple peck, that momentary brush, had unfolded in him like a flower in sunlight. To him, it was her first step towards eptance.


    Slowly, the corners of his mouth lifted, and the heaviness he had carried for so long softened into something warm and unshakable. His smile deepened as he turned from her door and made his way down the quiet corridor towards his own room. The sweetness of her kiss followed him with every step.


    ***


    Eleanor woke early. Freya was still clinging to her like an octopus, her small limbs wrapped tightly around her. With gentle care, Eleanor eased her daughter¡¯s arms apart and settled her into a morefortable position. She then slipped into the bathroom to freshen up.


    When she emerged, Freya was still fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb her, Eleanor moved quietly, changing into her clothes and preparing for the day ahead. Fiona had told her she wouldn¡¯t need to carry any personal belongings... the academy would provide everything, so she was spared the trouble of packing clothes or essories.


    Once ready, she eased the bedroom door open and stepped into the corridor. Today was Freya¡¯s day off from school, so Eleanor decided to let her sleep a little longer.


    She made her way to the study and called Teresa to join her.


    Inside, she switched on herptop and said, "Nora, connect to your Central AI System."


    In an instant, the clone of Nora embedded in Eleanor¡¯s mind scanned her brainwave patterns for authentication. Eleanor had programmed this security measure to guard against the possibility of someone stronger infiltrating her mind and seizing control of Nora.


    She understood the dangers of creating an autonomous super-system like Nora. In the wrong hands, it could wield the power to destroy entire civilisations. That was why she had implemented every safeguard possible with current technology.


    Nora was capable of automatically updating herself whenever new variables or advancements arose. Her prime directive, aside from serving Eleanor, was to expel all other users and remain constantly up to date by drawing upon every avable resource.


    Eleanor had also instructed Nora to bind herself to Eleanor¡¯s sessor if Eleanor were ever absent for a prolonged period... or if she died. Freya had been given a restricted clone of Nora, which assisted her with online learning and daily tasks.


    Before Nora¡¯s creation, Freya had long used another AI assistant. After building Nora, Eleanor had quietly reced it with a clone. That clone copied all data from the previous AI and even kept the same name... Ava.


    When necessary, Nora couldmunicate with Freya via Ava and would grant her full ess once she turned twenty-five.


    Now, the clone within Eleanor¡¯s mind sent an ultrapressed, encrypted signal skywards after authentication. This was transmitted through a low-power neural transceiver that pinged the nearest satellite.


    The closest Orionix SpaceTech satellite received the signal and passed it into the secure orbital meshwork, rying it to the Central AI System... the main body of Nora. Multiple satellites operated in redundant ry mode, ensuring the connection could never be lost.


    Eleanor had recently updated Nora¡¯s connection system. Now, if she was within a Wi-Fi zone, the AI could connect via the inte. Without inte ess, the link became slower and limited to smaller data packets, but as long as she was within range of a satellite, a connection was still possible.


    Nora¡¯s central system was mathematically divided into hundreds of encrypted fragments. Each fragment was redundantly stored across satellites, ground stations, and deep underground vault servers in remote, politically neutral regions. No single satellite, station, or vault held the entire "brain." The central system could only function as a whole when enough fragments were authenticated andbined through secure key exchanges. By design, seizing or destroying some pieces rendered them useless.


    If a node was destroyed or hacked, other nodes would dynamically reroute data and replicate the missing shards. Satellites acted as global couriers between safe nodes, with multiple redundant orbital paths... so a worldwide jamming attack would need to nket the entire to sever thework.


    The system was also programmed to periodically relocate its most critical shards. It generated false decoy signals and fake "core" servers to mislead attackers into wasting resources. Even if someone could coordinate a global cyberattack, push a malicious update, or destroy all satellites and ground stations, Nora would survive.


    As an ultimate contingency, a small number of deep-sea data vaults beneath the Antarctic Ocean held critical fallback backups, capable of restoring the system if all orbital and terrestrial infrastructure was wiped out. Even an internal breach could not operate without a quorum of authentic fragments.


    When Eleanor¡¯s signal reached the nearest data centre, it began rying the transmission to other centres holding fragments of the central system. The clone¡¯s data merged seamlessly with the main AI¡¯s knowledge, updating in real time.


    Within seconds, Nora¡¯s voice replied, "Central System connected."


    "Good," Eleanor said. "Give me a system update."


    "Initiating system update," Nora responded. "Synchronising all veiled nodes... encrypting data streams... core fragments aligned at fifty-three thousand eight hundred and forty-two out of one hundred thousand distributed vectors. Cross-redundancy confirmed. No hostile infiltration detected. Update applied to all instances."


    Eleanor nodded. "Good. I may be unavable for some time. Continue consolidating core fragments. There will be several satellites and ground stations connected to the God Eye in my absence... each equipped with several hundred fragments. Locate them and strengthen your core."


    She paused before adding, "Put all mypanies under surveince. If you detect any problems, or have suggestions to improve operations at any of my facilities, send an email to Teresa from my ount. Match my writing style so she believes ites from me. Other than Teresa, do not contact anyone, even if you find another optimal point. Understand?"


    "Yes," Nora said. "What about surveince on your home and vehicles?"


    "No need to report that to Teresa," Eleanor replied. "If anyone attempts to breach security, the programmed rm will be sufficient."


    Just then, she heard a knock at the door.

 Chapter 208: Leaving the Secular World

    <h4>Chapter 208: Leaving the Secr World</h4>


    "Come in," Eleanor said. Using her super senses, she already knew it was Teresa standing outside the door.


    The door opened and Teresa stepped in. "Are you leaving now?" she asked, crossing the room to sit opposite Eleanor at the desk. They had been childhood friends, and when they were alone, Teresa never bothered with formalities.


    "Not yet. The flight is at ten... you know the schedule," Eleanor replied. "I called you here to discuss your responsibilities while I¡¯m away. You already know I¡¯ll be busy with personal matters, so you¡¯ll have to run the business without me. I¡¯ve instructed allpanies to contact you instead of me. You¡¯ll need to make decisions on your own. I understand there will be a great deal of pressure, but I believe you¡¯re already well-acquainted with my businesses from the time you¡¯ve spent with me."


    She paused, then continued, "After today, I¡¯ll be entering a secret academy for three months. My contact will be limited. I might be able to send an email if necessary, but no phone calls. What I told you and the others... that I¡¯m going on a vacation. It was a lie. I was supposed to keep this entirely secret. But as my friend, I can¡¯t feed you lies like I do the rest. You already know I¡¯m the next head of the Raynor family. This training is a requirement for me to inherit that position."


    Her tone grew more serious. "This is a secret academy founded by ancient families from all over the world. They send their younger generations there to learn survival skills. It¡¯s more like an elitemando training. You already know how many times people have tried to kill me. I can rely on my bodyguards, but without my own strength, it could all be futile. You must keep this to yourself. Even within the ancient families, only those who are attending know of its existence. If someone learns you have this knowledge, your life could be in danger. I¡¯m telling you because I believe you¡¯ll understand my situation better this way... and because I trust in your ability to keep it secret."


    "Alright. I understand," Teresa said. "Don¡¯t worry, your secret is safe with me. Honestly, it¡¯s better this way... now that I know you¡¯ll truly be unavable for the next three months and I¡¯ll be in charge, I can prepare myself to perform better."


    "I thought so," Eleanor said. "But if you face an issue that truly requires my input, send me an email. I¡¯ll respond when I¡¯m permitted inte ess. If there¡¯s an emergency that needs outside assistance, call Ethan immediately. He¡¯s very strong in business negotiations and can also call on the family for help... something you won¡¯t be able to do directly. Ethan will be here with Freya while I¡¯m away, so if needed, speak to him in person."


    "I¡¯ll keep that in mind," Teresa said.


    "I¡¯ve already sent official letters to all the banks instructing them to cooperate with you instead of me," Eleanor went on. "Sorge transactions won¡¯t be a problem for ount-to-ount transfers. If you need cash, what you have in your vi should be sufficient. If you need more, ask Ethan... he¡¯ll provide it."


    She paused again, her gaze softening. "I¡¯m leaving a heavy burden on your shoulders, but I believe you¡¯re ready for it. That¡¯s all. You may go. I¡¯ll see you in three months."


    "Alright." Teresa stood, walking to the door. She paused suddenly and turned back. "Thank you for believing in me. I won¡¯t disappoint you." With that, she opened the door and left the room.


    After Teresa left, Eleanor spent some time in the study checking thetest updates on Project God Eye and reviewing the expected timeframe for itspletion. Once she finalised her goals and issued the necessary instructions for Nora to follow in her absence, she left the study to check on Freya.


    When Eleanor entered her room, Freya had just woken up and waszily sprawled on the bed. The moment she saw her mother, she sat up and asked, "Mommy, where did you go?"


    Eleanor smiled. "You were sleeping so peacefully, I thought I¡¯d let you have a few more minutes. After all, today¡¯s your day off from school."


    She walked over to the bed and wrapped her daughter in a gentle hug. "Go on, freshen up. Let¡¯s have breakfast together. We still have two hours... though I need to leave at half-past nine."


    Freya¡¯s face fell slightly as she was reminded of her mother¡¯s departure. Hugging her more tightly, she asked, "Mommy, can Ie with you to the airport?"


    Eleanor stroked her hair. "Sweetheart, we¡¯ve already talked about this. Mommy has to do this alone. Your daddy will be here to spend time with you every day, and Grandma Be will keep youpany. She was with me when I was your age, you know... she can tell you so many stories you¡¯ll never find on the inte. Three months isn¡¯t as long as it sounds. Pick a skill, learn it to mastery, and your time will pass in a sh. When Ie back, you can show me what you¡¯ve learnt. Alright?"


    Freya¡¯s voice softened. "Alright, Mommy."


    She slipped out of Eleanor¡¯s embrace and headed for the bathroom. A few minutester, she was ready, and the two of them made their way to the dining room for breakfast.


    When they entered, they saw Ethan already seated at the table, fiddling with his phone.


    "Daddy, you¡¯re already here," Freya chirped, happily taking the seat beside him.


    Ethan set his phone down. "You¡¯re up early. I thought you¡¯d sleep in on your day off."


    "No, I¡¯ve got lots to do today. I need to see Mommy off, and then I¡¯m visiting Grandpa and Grandma... they invited me to y," Freya said.


    "When did they invite you? You didn¡¯t tell me," Ethan asked.


    "Yesterday. Grandma knew I¡¯d be sad because Mommy¡¯s going away for a long time, so she asked me toe."


    Ethan smiled. "Alright then, I¡¯ll take you over after we see Mommy off."


    "Okay," Freya agreed.


    Ethan nced at Eleanor and caught her looking at him. The moment their eyes met, she looked away, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. The memory of kissing him surfaced in her mind, and she felt a flicker of embarrassment. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure what had possessed her in that moment. Though part of her felt awkward about it, another part was quietly pleased. Still, she decided it would be best not to meet his gaze for the time being.


    "Once I leave for the academy, things will return to normal," she told herself.


    When the kitchen staff set the food before her, she focused intently on eating, eyes downcast, never looking up to meet his. Yet she could feel, instinctively, that he was ncing at her from time to time while helping Freya with her meal.


    After breakfast, Eleanor went to Freya¡¯s room to check her belongings onest time, ensuring she wouldn¡¯t becking anything during the next three months. Everything was in order. Satisfied, she watched for a while as Freya yed a shooting game with Ethan.


    She was already prepared to leave. When the time came, she said her goodbyes to Ethan, Freya, Isabe, and the rest of the household staff. Then she made her way to the helipad and boarded the waiting helicopter that would take her to the airport.


    ***


    At Manchester International Airport, Eleanor found her Gulfstream 650 waiting on the private airstrip, engines humming, ready for departure. A member of staff informed her that everyone else had already boarded. Without wasting time, she ascended the steps and entered the aircraft.


    Her pilot and crew stood ready to greet her. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they moved efficiently back to their duties.


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze settled on the two women waiting just ahead, Ophelia and Kiara... both smiling warmly at her.


    "Ma¡¯am, I¡¯m very lucky to be apanying you to the academy," Ophelia said.


    Eleanor¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile, but her tone was firm. "Don¡¯t becent. You¡¯re going to be a student again, not my guard. There¡¯s a great deal of study ahead... it¡¯s not all about fighting."


    Ophelia groaned. "You had to remind me again, didn¡¯t you? Ma¡¯am, you¡¯re a killjoy."


    Kiara spoke up, her voice tinged with amusement. "Cousin, you¡¯d better take care of me this time. I specially requested Dad and the n Head to have me ced in your batch. I even had to agree to join the police force after ascension just for this chance."


    Kiara Raynor, the only daughter of Xavier Raynor, was the youngest of his four children. Her three elder brothers had all taken different paths... two into the Royal Marines, and the third into academia as a nuclear scientist at the Birmingham Centre for Nuclear Education & Research. Xavier had always wanted one of his children to follow in his footsteps into the police, but none of his sons had shown the slightest interest.


    It seemed, however, that he had managed to draw Kiara into his field. Though five years older than Eleanor, Kiara had always been close to her. She was in San Diego afterpleting her studies. They had spent a great deal of time together while Eleanor was in the United States. Carefree and unbothered by petty matters, Kiara was easy to be around.


    Eleanor gave her a small smile. "Of course."


    With that, she moved into her private cabin. Momentster, the aircraft rumbled into motion, elerating smoothly along the runway for the long flight to Svalbard Airport.

 Chapter 209: Endless White

    <h4>Chapter 209: Endless White</h4>


    The Svalbard Airport stood like a quiet sentinel at the edge of the Arctic, where the mountains leaned close to the sea and the wind carried the taste of salt and ice. Its runway stretched in a dark, unwavering line across ground that never truly thawed, reinforced by gravel and instion against the restless shift of permafrost beneath. On one side, the fjordy still, a sheet of steel-blue water that mirrored the sky in summer and froze into pale ss in the long winter. On the other, mountains rose abruptly, their slopes draped in snow that glowed with a pale fire in the endless twilight.


    Eleanor descended the steps of her Gulfstream, the metal still humming faintly with the memory of flight. Her boots struck the tarmac with a muted echo, instantly swallowed by the vastness around her. The air was so sharp it stung, filling her lungs with a precision she had never known elsewhere. She paused at the base of the stairs, her gaze sweeping across the fjord where water shivered with silver under the reluctant sun. For a moment, she felt as though she stood at the edge of the world... and perhaps she did.


    The mountains loomed like sentinels of stone and snow, dwarfing the airport and making the jet behind her seem like nothing more than a toy abandoned on a giant¡¯s floor. She drew her coat tighter, not merely against the cold, but against the humbling sense that thisndscape had no need of her presence. The runway did not lead toward a city or promise of progress, but directly into silence.


    She let the stillness sink into her. It was not empty, but alive... the groan of ice shifting, the distant cry of a seabird, the whisper of wind threading through the valley. Time itself seemed slower here, reluctant to disturb the fragile bnce of stone, snow, and sea.


    Then, her vision sharpened. The golden rity around her intensified until the world seemed to hesitate, caught in amber light. She realised, with a sudden chill, that her bloodline had activated.


    The Elizabeth bloodline carried the power of mind. When awakened, their thoughts surged into overdrive. The world did not truly slow, yet their perception elerated until every motion, every flicker of expression unfolded with crystalline rity. In battle, this gift made an Elizabeth unstoppable. They could read an opponent¡¯s intent before the attack began, exploit every weakness, and strike with merciless precision. To onlookers, such encounters seemed like massacres... swift, one-sided, inevitable.


    But the bloodline bore its curse. Alongside rity came bloodlust, an aura that spilled outward, impossible to hide. Inbat it was a weapon, enough to paralyse foes with dread. In peace, it was a hazard... an involuntary predator¡¯s scent, stirring fear even in allies. Eleanor had learned to live under constant caution, guarding her mind from slipping too far.


    She froze at the base of the stairs, wrestling the impulse back, forcing the bloodline to stillness. Yet the surge had already escaped. Behind her, Ophelia faltered, her knees buckling. Kiara caught her swiftly, preventing her from tumbling down the steps.


    As a Raynor, Kiara was untouched by the aura, but her instincts sharpened. She looked about, expecting an attack, trying to trace what had unsettled Ophelia so badly. Then she saw them.


    Two figures approached from the right... tall, bronze-skinned men, their frames broad and unyielding, their presence heavy with restrained power. Their pace was steady, unhurried, yet the air seemed to bend subtly around them.


    They halted a few metres away, one holding a shiny tablet, the other holding a Hybrid Infrared 3D Scanner. Eleanor steadied herself, forcing her bloodline back under strict control before turning to face them. She already knew what they were... Dragons.


    One of the men tilted his head slightly, his voice deep and edged with amusement. "Such strong bloodlust, and at such a young age. You are... interesting." His eyes glimmered briefly, like molten gold beneath the surface. "We are from the Midgard Academy. Those of you who came to enrol... please step forward. We need to confirm your identities before proceeding."


    Eleanor nced at Kiara and Ophelia, both of whom had regainedposure and now stood shoulder to shoulder. She stepped forward alone, closing the distance until only a metre separated her from the towering figures. "All three of us are here to join the academy," she said evenly.


    The man with the scanner began sweeping her from toe to head, the device emitting faintyers of light across her frame. He lingered over her eyes, studying them with deliberate precision. The other dragon looked at his tablet, then spoke in a tone more formal than curious.


    "Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. Age twenty-nine. Race: Werewolf. Is that correct?"


    Eleanor met his gaze without flinching. "Correct."


    "Good. Please step aside. Next."


    She moved to the side as Kiara came forward, her expression calm, her posture disciplined. The scanner repeated its silent work. The dragon with the tablet read aloud, "Kiara Raynor. Age thirty-four. Race: Werewolf. Confirm?"


    "Confirmed," Kiara replied with a short nod.


    Finally, Ophelia approached. The scan ended quickly this time.


    "Ophelia nc. Age thirty-seven. Race: Werewolf. Correct?"


    "Yes," Ophelia said quietly.


    The dragon¡¯s gaze swept across the three of them before he closed the scanner with a faint click. "Then please bid farewell to your family members. You have five minutes. After that, we will escort you to your next transport."


    Eleanor reached into her coat, drew out her phone, and dialled swiftly. cing it against her ear, she spoke with calm precision. "I will be leaving now. Return to Manchester and report directly to Teresa. She will manage everything while I am away."


    She ended the call without waiting for reply, sliding the phone back into her pocket. Turning once more to the dragons, her voice was steady. "We are ready. Please lead the way."


    Both men smiled faintly. One of them nodded his head. "Very well. Follow us."


    They turned, walking with unhurried steps toward the far side of the airport. Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia trailed behind them.


    One of the men spoke as they walked, his voice carrying easily over the thrum of the wind. "You will board a helicopter to your destination. Each helicopter carries ten cadets at a time. Seven have already boarded. Once you three are added, we can dispatch this group to the academy."


    He paused, then added with deliberate rity, "You may still use your phones if you need to make a call. Once you board the helicopter, however, there will be no more time for such things. All phones andmunication devices will be stored away before you enter the academy. I hope you are prepared for this."


    Eleanor lifted up her head. "Thank you. We were informed by our elders."


    The man gave a faint smile. "Good. Your n has done well to prepare you. Not all are so fortunate. There are always some who arrive without knowing the protocol. Many turn up with parents and family, thinking farewells are permitted at the gates. It happens every batch. But you already know the basics. Once you arrive at the academy office in Kvernheim, you will be given aplete guideline."


    As he spoke, they came to a waiting helicopter. One of the dragons pointed to the open door. "Please, step inside. The pilot is ready to fly."


    Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia climbed aboard. Three seats remained behind the cockpit, as though waiting precisely for them. Two men sat in front... both dragons, Eleanor sensed immediately; seven others filled the rows behind... four werewolves, a vampire, a merfolk, and a werecat. Male and female mixed, their eyes flicking curiously to the neers. No words passed between them as Eleanor and herpanions buckled themselves in and donned their headsets.


    The door mped shut. The pilot¡¯s voice came through the headgear, calm and clipped. "Cadets, please prepare. The flight will take approximately half an hour. If you require anything, hold it until we reach our destination."


    The helicopter lifted, thunder rolling in its des, carrying them away from the edges of civilisation into the stark, white vastness of the Arctic.


    ***


    Half an hourter, it descended upon what seemed a boundless sheet of ice... nothing but white, stretching without end, swallowing horizon and sky alike. The rotors slowed, their roar thinning into a hollow silence until only a faint whine remained.


    The pilots disembarked first, boots biting into the brittle crust. One swung open the cabin door, and the cold rushed in like a living force, sharp enough to sting the skin. "Please get down," he said.


    One by one the cadets stepped down, breath streaming into the air as pale ghosts. Around them was the perfect emptiness of an endless white desert. The ground was solid ice but felt strange beneath their feet, and as they looked around in confusion, a quiet unease rippled among them. How could there be anding point in such a ce?


    The two dragons moved a few paces aside. Then they lifted their hands and began to chant. The sound was low, resonant, and alien, vibrating through the air until even the ice seemed to tremble in sympathy. Their gestures were deliberate, carving patterns through space as though inscribing runes into an unseen fabric.


    At the chant¡¯s crescendo, the air itself seemed to tear... not violently, but with the rippling shimmer of a veil disturbed. From nothing, a gate unfolded, its frame traced in lines of silver and violet, radiating an unearthly luminescence. It hung there impossibly in the frozen desert, a door without walls, opening onto a faint light that beckoned beyond.


    "Cadets," one of the pilots said, his voice carrying with solemn weight, "please step through the gate. The academy office awaits you on the other side."

 Chapter 210: Front Office of the Academy

    <h4>Chapter 210: Front Office of the Academy</h4>


    One by one, the seven cadets from the helicopter stepped through the gate. Eleanor and herpanions followedst, unhurried. A burst of white brilliance engulfed her as she crossed the threshold, so intense that her instincts forced her eyes shut.


    When she opened them again, she stood in a vast hall. At first nce it resembled the reception of a powerful corporation rather than anything one might call an academy office. Directly ahead stood threerge desks in a line, each staffed by a strikingly beautiful woman. They were not the coquettish sort often ced atmercial lobbies, but middle-aged, dignified figures, radiating calmpetence. Their white robes lent them an air at once pure and authoritative.


    Floating above the desks hung three luminous signs: Reception, Help Desk, and Exchange.


    To either side of the hall, neat rows of leather chairs provided seating. A handful of young people sat there reading quietly. The seven who had entered before Eleanor were already queuing before the reception desk.


    "Step away from the gate. Make space for the next arrivals," came a firm voice from behind.


    Eleanor realised she had stayed too long at the same ce. She moved forward a few steps and nced back. Behind her shimmered the door of white light, guarded on either side by two imposing men. They wore same type of robes like the women, but ck in colour. Both of them radiated unmistakable draconic presence.


    The light of the door rippled. Kiara stepped out, eyes searching. "Eleanor!" she called, hurrying over.


    Momentster, Ophelia emerged. The three of them joined the end of the line at reception, falling into ce naturally behind their fellow passengers.


    Soon it was Eleanor¡¯s turn. The receptionist before her gestured to a small scanner built into the desk. "Please look directly into the device."


    Eleanor raised her eyes. The woman¡¯s voice remained calm but carried authority. "Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. Answer my questions using more than three words. Did youe to the academy of your own ord, or were you forced?"


    Still staring into the scanner, Eleanor replied, "I came of my own ord."


    "True," the woman said without hesitation. "Do you intend to obey the rules and regtions of the academy?"


    "I intend to obey."


    "True. Our most fundamental rule is this. You are forbidden to discuss the academy¡¯s training with the outside world. Do you promise to uphold this?"


    "I promise to obey this rule."


    "True," the woman confirmed. Then she handed over a thick, paperback volume. "This is the academy guide. Please read the first ten pages carefully. They outline the basic rules you must follow. Once you have understood them, you will sign a magical contract binding you to the academy. Take your time. When ready, return here to proceed."


    The guide was heavier than expected. Eleanor stepped aside and started to read the pages as instructed. Kiara and Ophelia soon underwent the same questioning, each receiving their own guides.


    But as Ophelia epted hers, Eleanor spoke, her voice even. "You don¡¯t need to read. Let¡¯s move straight to the signing."


    Ophelia agreed instantly. "Alright."


    The receptionist¡¯s expression sharpened. "You cannot influence others. Every cadet must sign of their own free will."


    Eleanor inclined her head in apology. "Then let me rephrase. I have read the ten pages already, and I am satisfied. The terms are eptable. May I confirm... are all contracts identical?"


    "Yes," the woman replied. "Every cadet signs the same binding."


    "And if I were to refuse a use, or decline to sign at all, could I still enrol?" Eleanor asked.


    The answer came without hesitation. "No. Without the contract, there is no admission."


    Eleanor smiled faintly. "In that case, there is no reason to waste time. We came to join the academy; we ept that its rules must apply equally to all. Kiara is my cousin, Ophelia is my subordinate. They follow my lead, as you can confirm if you wish."


    Kiara said at once, "I have no objection."


    Ophelia added, "I follow my boss."


    The receptionist sighed softly, conceding. "Very well. Take your contracts. Read them carefully if you must. Then use a pin from the bowl to draw a drop of blood and mark the signature box. Dispose of the pin in the basket beside you."


    Each of them received a contract identical to the guide. Eleanor scanned hers quickly... nothing new. She pricked her fingertip, letting a single drop fall onto the signature box.


    At once, the parchment red. White light coursed across the page, consuming it until the entire sheet dissolved into countless shining motes. The sparks hovered a moment, then streamed upward, vanishing as though drawn to some distant, unseen presence.


    All three of them stared, caught off guard by the quiet majesty of the phenomenon.


    The receptionist allowed herself the barest smile. "Magical contracts are bound to Lord Yggdrasil himself. When you sign, the pact is delivered to him. In time, you will learn more of this."


    She then looked to the others. "You two, please proceed with your contracts."


    Eleanor took Ophelia¡¯s document, scanned it quickly, and said, "No problem. You can sign."


    Ophelia pricked her finger without hesitation. By the time her contract dissolved, Kiara had already finished reading hers. Though not at Eleanor¡¯s speed, she too could read with remarkable swiftness. As Ophelia stepped back, Kiara moved forward and signed.


    Once the three of them were bound, the receptionist asked, "Do you have magical pouches for your belongings? Nothing but your body may enter the academy, and we only store items already ced within pouches."


    Eleanor shook her head. "No. I don¡¯t."


    She nced at Kiara and Ophelia; both returned the same gesture.


    The woman nodded. "Quite normal. Then please proceed to the Exchange desk."


    The three crossed to the counter marked Exchange. The woman there greeted them with a courteous smile. "You require pouches, I assume?"


    "Yes, please," Eleanor replied.


    The clerk¡¯s smile tightened faintly. "Be aware, magical pouches are costly. Prices range from three hundred thousand to one million dors each. If your funds arecking, you may simply discard your clothing here. Upon leaving the academy, a basic outfit can be purchased for a thousand dors. Another alternative is that the three of you share a single pouch."


    Eleanor¡¯s tone was calm, decisive. "I intend to buy three. What is the difference between those at three hundred thousand and those at a million?"


    "Pouches are lifelongpanions," the woman exined. "Once imprinted, only you may open them. No outsider can peer inside. Even if a powerful ascendant destroys the container, its contents remain sealed, irretrievable. Only upon your death will the imprint fade, allowing another to im it.


    "All we sell here are spirit-grade items... the lowest grade, yet suitable for cadets. There are three tiers avable. A low-tier spirit pouch looks like an ordinary leather pouch. It offers ten cubic feet of storage. Mid-tier spirit pouches appear as bracelets, worn on the wrist, with fifty cubic feet of space. They cost five hundred thousand dors. The high-tier option takes the form of a ring, often called a storage ring, with a hundred cubic feet within. Each ring is one million dors. Note that only inanimate objects can be stored."


    Sheid out the three examples on the desk: a leather pouch, a dark grey metallic bracelet, and a matching ring.


    Eleanor did not hesitate. "I¡¯ll take three rings. Do you have any variation in design? This is rather in."


    The woman¡¯s lips curved upwards. "They are forged of Soulsteel. Dark grey is the metal¡¯s natural hue. Each will bond to you, resizing as needed, even if you transform into your true form. In auction houses you may find more borate designs. Here in the academy, we provide only this style."


    "That will do. Three rings, please," Eleanor said, handing over her ck card.


    The clerk swiped it across a small device, returning it with a receipt marked three million dors. She ced three rings carefully before them. "Imprint them now. A drop of blood will suffice. Pins are in the bowl."


    They each pricked a fingertip. As Eleanor¡¯s blood touched the cool metal, the ring shimmered faintly. A sudden awareness bloomed in her mind... a hollow space, one hundred cubic feet in size, suspended in her consciousness like a hidden chamber waiting to be filled. She could feel it as clearly as if her hand had opened a door.


    At that instant, Nora¡¯s voice rang within her mind. "I see it too. A new space has appeared in my vision."


    "Nora! I almost forgot about you," Eleanor eximed inwardly.


    "You were preupied with your thoughts," Nora replied. "I was observing everything. There was no need to interrupt, so I stayed silent."


    "Can you connect to your main body from here?" Eleanor asked.


    "No. All signals are blocked in this ce. Your mobile has nowork either."


    "I guessed as much... just checking." Eleanor¡¯s thoughts sharpened. "By the way, did you find any hidden uses in the contract?"


    "None. Everyone is bound to the same agreement, so you risk nothing unique. But Master, if you doubt anything, feel free to ask me again."


    "It¡¯s fine," Eleanor said. "Keep observing. I might need your help at any time."


    At that moment, the woman behind the Exchange desk spoke. "Look around you... there are thirty doors surrounding this hall. Since the three of you are werewolves, you must use any of the rooms numbered fifteen through twenty. Inside, you will find academy robes. Put on the uniform and store all your personal belongings in your storage ring. Once you have changed, you must return your ring here to my desk. When you leave the academy, it will be returned to you. Now, please select a room and change. Each chamber is equipped with its own service robots. They will guide you through the next steps."

 Chapter 211: How to Prepare Your Uniform

    <h4>Chapter 211: How to Prepare Your Uniform</h4>


    Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia entered rooms sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen respectively.


    Upon stepping inside, Eleanor paused to take in her surroundings. The chamber wasrger than any changing room she had ever seen, though not nearly the size of her own bedroom. Its walls, floor, and ceiling were made of a matte ck metal, cool and severe, without a single trace of ornament. The ce was barren, devoid of furniture or fittings... except for a humanoid, ck-coloured robot standing motionless at the far end.


    "Nora, is this room safe?" she asked silently.


    "The walls areyered with nullsteel and filled with obsidian, the same for the door, floor, and ceiling. From what I know, this chamber should be resistant to magical probes, divination spells, and it is also soundproof. The light you see is from dozens of small lumen crystals embedded in the ceiling. As for the robot... it appears to be fully autonomous, without any link to systems outside this room." Nora replied.


    The door behind her sealed shut with a soft hiss. At that instant, the robot¡¯s eyes flickered to life, glowing faintly as it stirred.


    "Wee to the Academy, werewolf," it intoned in a t, mechanical voice. "You are now inside the measurement chamber. I will record your full body measurement and help you with the uniform and other clothes suitable for your term at the Academy. Please remove all clothing and essories and ce them to the side. Then stand upon the marked position at the centre of the room. You may ask questions if they concern my task. I can answer only matters rted to measurement and outfitting."


    Just as the robot said, a glowing cross red into existence on the floor. At the same time, Nora informed, "The robot is connected to some machines behind the back wall."


    Eleanor raised an eyebrow and loudly spoke. "Why must I remove my clothes? Can you not measure my size over them?"


    The robot answered without pause. "I was programmed to acquire exact body measurements so the tailoring system may craft your first uniform. uracy is necessary. Any error could lead toplications during battle."


    Eleanor crossed her arms. "And how do you ount for transformation? I can hardly fight without considering my werewolf form."


    "The protocol varies by species," the robot said. "Cadets are required to remain in human form throughout the Academy, except when within thebat arenas. I am programmed to record both your human body and your partially transformed state. The tailoring system will then construct a uniform capable of shifting with you. As for yourplete beast form... no attire is required. Any garments or essories not embedded into your body are disced into a separate dimension during transformation and return to you, unchanged, when you revert to human form."


    Eleanor nodded. "You spoke of other clothes. What garments are needed beyond the uniform?"


    The robot answered, "You will be provided three sets of uniform, robes for different asions, innerwear, shoes, and gloves. For now, you will receive only oneplete set... uniform, innerwear, shoes, and gloves. The rest will be delivered directly to your dormitory. Now, please proceed. This step is mandatory; there is no alternative."


    "Very well," Eleanor said, and began removing her clothes piece by piece until her form stood bare beneath the muted glow.


    Her figure was proportioned with effortless harmony, firm yet fluid. Smooth skin stretched unbroken across her frame, her breasts full and rounded, poised with natural symmetry. Her waist curved inward before widening into hips that bnced her posture, each line carved with quiet strength.


    Her legs were long and sculpted, carrying both grace andtent power, every contour flowing seamlessly into the next. From her shoulders to her ankles, her body spoke of refinement and unyielding vitality... a form at once disciplined and distinctly feminine.


    The robot regarded her without reaction, its gaze empty, mechanical, untouched by meaning.


    Leaving her belongings neatly aside, she stepped to the centre of the room and stood upon the glowing mark. "Well, I am ready. You may take the measurements now," she said.


    "Thank you. Please remain still," the robot replied. It glided forward, not walking but rolling on hidden wheels beneath its feet.


    As it stopped before her, its eyes zed with sudden light, casting beams that swept across her body. Rays crossed and inteced, tracing her outline in delicate grids of brilliance. Slowly, the machine circled her, light spilling from every angle until atst its eyes dimmed to their earlier glow.


    "Human measurementsplete," it dered. "Now, partially transform to the extent where clothing will still be required. This will allow your uniform to adapt properly to your altered form."


    "Understood," Eleanor said, and let the shift ripple through her body.


    Her shoulders swelled first, muscles thickening with dense, unnatural weight, stretching her frame taller and moremanding. Arms lengthened subtly, cords of sinew tightening beneath skin. Fingers curled, nails sharpening into ckened ws that caught the dim light with a feral glint.


    Her face changed next... the human mask reshaping but not yet lost. The jaw thrust forward, teeth lengthening into predatory points, though her eyes burned clear, rimmed now with an emerald glow that pierced through the shadows. Her ears rose and tapered, edged with lupine sharpness, while a dusting of coarse fur crept along her jawline, neck, and forearms.


    Her torso shifted, ribcage expanding as her breath grew deeper, more primal. Skin rippled as patches of fur sprouted across her chest and sides. Her waist narrowed before spilling into hips and legs reshaped by power. Thighs knotted with coiled strength, calves drew taut as her feet elongated, toes splitting into wed digits ready to dig into the ground.


    Finally, she said, "This is the limit of my transformation for now. One more push, and I will be fully transformed."


    "Please remain still," the robot instructed as it began scanning again. Beams of light traced her figure in a slow circle. When itpleted its circuit, it said, "You may return to your human form."


    Eleanorplied, her body shifting back into its human state.


    The robot continued, "Measurementsplete. Now, you must take the next steps. First, sort your belongings. Potions, herbs, or magical artefacts that you intend to use for strengthening body or mind may be registered at the Exchange Desk. If professors permit their use, the Exchange will deliver them ordingly. Items not permitted must be stored within your ring. If you are uncertain about any item, you may present it to me for evaluation."


    Eleanor walked to the pile of her clothes and essories on the floor. She ced everything into her storage ring, save for three jade bottles of varying sizes.


    "I wish to bring these three," she said. "I intend to hire someone to refine them into a bloodline potion."


    The robot rolled forward, eyes glowing as a scanning ray swept across the bottles. "A five-petal Moonpetal flower... though one petal has already been lost. Two petals alone are sufficient for a bloodline potion. A fang from an elder werewolf. And volcanic ash from a dead mountain. These are permissible. Submit them at the Exchange for registry if you intend tomission a potion."


    Eleanor gave a small nod. "Thank you. Now that I¡¯ve sorted my belongings, may I have my uniform?"


    "Not yet," the robot replied. "There is a preliminary step. This is a cleansing potion. You must drink it."


    Its torso opened with a soft hiss, revealing a narrowpartment. From within it drew a small bottle, which it offered to her.


    Eleanor epted the vial and turned it in her hand. "Nora, is this safe?" she asked inwardly.


    "I cannot identify its exact properties," Nora answered, "but it is not poison. I sense no lethal effect. There is, however, a peculiar energy within it... unfamiliar to my records."


    "Then there is no choice but to try," Eleanor murmured in her mind.


    She opened the bottle and swallowed the contents in a single draught. The liquid was unexpectedly sweet, but almost at once her body tingled with a faint, restless energy.


    "It purged many microbes from your body," Nora observed. "And that strange energy has stimted your cells... a form of rejuvenation."


    Eleanor lowered the bottle, her gaze returning to the robot. It raised its arms, releasing a fine mist of white vapour that spread across the chamber, curling around both walls and her body.


    "Again, the same liquid," Nora remarked. "But dispersed in vapour form."


    When the mist cleared, the robot announced, "Cleansingplete. You may now don your academy uniform. Proceed to the rear of the room... your garments are ready for you. Please dress yourself before leaving this room."


    Eleanor walked to the back of the room. The faint vapour had already dispersed, leaving the air clean and cool. Against the wall rested a narrow tform, upon whichy neatly folded garments in varying shades of green, a pair of gloves, and a pair of boots.


    She lifted the muted forest-green tunic first and drew it over her body. Its fabric bore no visible seams; it clung to her form like living leaf-skin, smooth and supple, moving with her rather than against her, offeringfort yetplete freedom.


    Next, she pulled on the leggings, their tone a deeper green. Sleek and pliant, they held a natural sheen, as though spun from ivy itself, wrapping her legs in a snug but unrestrictive embrace. Sheyered the darker green trousers over them, the weave firmer, with hardened panels set subtly about the knees for protection.


    Reaching for the fitted coat, she paused a moment to take in its craft. The garment was fashioned ofyered panels that resembled ovepping leaves, hardened into armour-like scales. Flowing and elegant, yet carrying the edge of battle, it bore sharp ridges along the shoulders, lending her a regal, martial bearing. She cinched it about her waist with a belt of darker green, its surface resembling finely worked leather.


    Then came the footwear. She slid on the pale green socks, soft against her skin, before stepping into the boots. Though they looked like leather, their surface carried a woody texture, as if alive, the green-brown hues shifting faintly under the light. Their soles, ridged with subtle grooves, promised both grip and quiet movement.


    Last were the gloves. Reinforced with the strength ofyered leaf-fibre, they bore faint natural veins across their surface, as though life still coursed within them. The fingertips darkened into a deeper shade of green, suggesting rooted power gathered in her grasp.


    When she stood upright atst, fully clothed, the transformation wasplete. No longer a cadet preparing for a trial... she looked like a goddess ready to march into war.

 Chapter 212: Cadet Number 659

    <h4>Chapter 212: Cadet Number 659</h4>


    Eleanor stretched her arms and legs, rolling her shoulders, then dropped into a series of swift movements. She struck the air with a few sharp punches, followed by precise kicks, each blow cutting cleanly through the space. After several repetitions, she paused, satisfied. The uniform moved with her effortlessly... no stiffness, no resistance. It flexed like her own skin, giving her strength without taking any away.


    In her mind, Nora¡¯s voice stirred. "I think every piece of this uniform is recyble, even environment-friendly. But, Master... that strange energy I sensed earlier, it¡¯s still here. It¡¯s woven into your clothes as well. I cannot rte it to any force I know."


    Eleanor exhaled softly. "Don¡¯t worry. If the academy meant us harm, they wouldn¡¯t bother dressing us for war. Most students here are from renowned families... they represent the best of this world. The academy wouldn¡¯t dare risk losing them."


    As Eleanor tested her uniform a moment longer, the robot¡¯s mechanical voice cut through the silence. "Please put on the robe. The robe identifies your role in the academy. Green robes are for students, indigo for professors, teal for healers, white for officials, ck for protectors, and gold for the principal."


    Eleanor lifted thest folded garment and unfurled it. The deep emerald robe cascaded down almost to her ankles, its fall smooth and uninterrupted, every fold alive with grace. Light shimmered faintly across its surface, as though sunlight had been woven into its threads, shifting between shades of green and gold as she moved.


    The fabric bore delicate vein-like patterns, like the imprint of a vast leaf pressed t, soft under her fingers but resonant with hidden strength. Its sleeves were wide, tapering neatly at the wrists to avoid hindrance in movement. The hems and cor were finished with vine-like embroidery, touched now and then with glints of golden thread. At the throat rested a simple sp in the shape of a budding leaf carved from amber, fastening the robe close, though she could just as easily let it trail behind her like a flowing banner.


    She turned slightly, testing its flow with a few steps and stretches. Then she asked, "I understand the others. But what about the protectors? I saw two ck-robed dragons near the teleportation gate."


    "The protectors safeguard the academy," the robot replied evenly. "They are all of the dragon race. That is the extent of my knowledge. For further details, read the guide or consult the help desk."


    Eleanor nodded. "I am ready now. May I leave this room?"


    "Not yet," the robot said. "I have further exnation. Look at your robe... left side of your chest."


    Eleanor had noticed the embroidery before but dismissed it as unimportant. Now, she lowered her gaze. The number stitched there gleamed in golden thread: 10156659.


    "That is your cadet number," the robot exined. "Here, all students are cadets, regardless of gender, race, or origin. This number will belong to you even after death. The academy will identify you by it from this day forward. Memorize it... you will need to write it often. Thest three digits of your number will be used to call you while you are in the academy. Only you will possess 659 this year."


    It paused, then continued, "Your robe also carries function. Inside are two concealed pockets. Each has a ten cubic foot space... simr to a pouch, but not bonded to its owner. The contents can be scanned at any time by academy systems. The distinction is this... unlike storage rings, these spaces allow airflow. You may store living creatures or objects requiring air to survive. Now, ce your guidebook and bottles inside the pocket to test."


    Eleanor obeyed. She slipped the guide into one pocket and ced the three bottles carefully into the other. To be certain, she drew the book back out... "Perfect".


    "Nora", she asked silently, "can you sense these spaces?"


    "I can," Nora replied. "I can feel the pockets and remember where exactly you ced each item. But there is no sense of ownership here. In your storage ring I can always see what lies within, right now, at this moment. With the robe, I only know from memory.


    "I see," Eleanor murmured in her mind. "The ring is bound to me. The robe is not."


    The robot¡¯s voice chimed in again. "All academy clothes are woven with an embedded cleansing spell, a property of the material itself. You will never need to wash them. If they be dirty, allow some time... they will clean themselves. The effect extends to your body as well, removing sweat or surface grime. Thus, even after hard exertion, if you rest a while you will not need a bath immediately. The only time you must change your uniform is if it tears duringbat. Fighting, however, is prohibited in the academy outside the arena, and you may only fight while wearing your uniform. Two more sets will be delivered to your dormitoryter. That is all I was instructed to exin. Now, please deposit your items at the exchange desk. The door is open."


    "Thank you," Eleanor said, inclining her head before stepping through the door as it parted. Behind her, it sealed itself with a soft hiss.


    The officey just as she had left it. She nced toward the other rooms... Kiara¡¯s and Ophelia¡¯s doors remained closed. Across the chamber, the six others who had travelled with them still sat at their desks, heads bent over their contracts. Only the werecat was absent. A fresh group had already arrived and now stood before the receptionist... five vampires, three nagas, and two whose aura felt unfamiliar. Eleanor studied them briefly. Their features carried a distinctly Japanese cast, and the smell around them shimmered with a faint fox-like sharpness. "Kitsunes," she concluded.


    She dismissed them from thought and went straight to the exchange desk.


    "Hello," said the woman behind it with a smile so warm and natural it seemed impossible to doubt her words. "It appears you are ready to enter the academy. Please hand over your storage ring. You may reim it upon leaving. The only item you are permitted to bring inside is the guidebook issued earlier. You will be scanned, so I advise against hiding anything."


    Eleanor returned her smile and set the three bottles beside her ring. "I need these three prepared into a bloodline potion."


    The woman lifted a hand scanner and ran it slowly across the items. The device glowed briefly before she tapped at the tablet in front of her. "You have a five-stem Moonpetal flower... though one petal is missing. A fang of an elder ascended werewolf. And volcanic ash from a dead mountain. Yes, these are indeed validponents for a bloodline potion. However, youck three essential catalysts... starlight dew, dragonbone powder, and obsidian dust. You may purchase them from the Faculty of Arcane Herbalism and Potioncraft. With your ten percent student discount, the cost will be seven million, two hundred thousand dors. Other minor reagents will be provided free by the alchemist."


    She paused, scanning the tablet again before continuing. "You will require two petals for your potion. The remaining two may be sold to the faculty for two million, which will be deducted from your bill. Should you possess other ingredients to sell, those too can offset the cost. Be advised, you must alsomission an alchemist to prepare the potion. No alchemist guarantees a hundred percent sess. You have ingredients enough for a single dose, and if it fails, you must ept the loss. The registered alchemists¡¯ fees range between five to twenty million dors. As a cadet, you will receive a fifty percent discount if youmission a professor. Their fees are usually ten to twenty million... you would only need to provide half."


    Eleanor inclined her head politely. "My grandmother instructed me tomission Professor Charles Scott Sherrington for my potion. She has already contacted him and arranged the ingredients under his guidance."


    The woman¡¯s smile never faltered, but her eyes flicked briefly to the tablet. "Professor Sherrington is not currently listed among the avable faculty formission. If you insist, I can submit a special request. That will require an additional ten million dors."


    "Understood," Eleanor said evenly. "Please write my name... Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor. The professor is expecting a request from me."


    "Very well." The woman tapped briskly at her screen. "In that case, your total will be fifteen million two hundred thousand dors. Do you have sufficient funds avable?"


    "Yes," Eleanor replied. "My wallet is in my storage ring."


    The woman handed the ring back to her. Eleanor withdrew her ck card, and set it down. The transaction took only moments; then the woman returned the card along with a slip marked PAID in elegant gold lettering. Without pause, she resumed entering data into her tablet, her hands moving like clockwork.


    Just then, the side doors slid open with a whisper, and both Kiara and Ophelia emerged. Their new uniforms caught the light, the deep green cloth enhancing their natural grace. For a moment, Eleanor thought they looked less like students and more like forest-born queens stepping into their domain.


    "Are you done already, Eleanor?" Kiara asked, striding to her side.


    "Yes," Eleanor said, smiling faintly. "Just finishing the procedures here."


    Behind the desk, the woman looked up again. "Cadet 659, yourmission has been recorded. If the professor declines, you will be notified to select another alchemist. You have already surrendered your storage ring. To proceed, you need to go to the help desk. Remember... the guidebook is the only item you may carry inside."


    "I understand. Thank you for your assistance." Eleanor inclined her head once more, then turned to herpanions. "We¡¯ll enter the academy together."


    Kiara stepped forward and ced her ring neatly on the counter, Ophelia following suit. Once their items were processed, the three of them moved as one toward the help desk, their green robes flowing behind them like banners, their first true steps as cadets of the academy.

 Chapter 213: Upgraded NeuroSync Nanogel

    <h4>Chapter 213: Upgraded NeuroSync Nanogel</h4>


    "Hello, Cadets," the woman behind the help desk greeted them politely, her tone calm but practiced. "I believe you are ready to enter the academy." She had already noticed their robes and the direction they hade from was the exchange desk, so her conclusion was certain.


    Eleanor gave a short nod. "Yes. We were asked to report to you from the exchange desk."


    "Then please enter Room Number One. All three of you may proceed together."


    The words caught Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia slightly off guard. They had carefully observed theyout earlier, yet none of them recalled ever seeing a door marked one. The numbering had begun at two.


    "Master, Room One is in front of you," Nora said in Eleanor¡¯s mind.


    Almost at the same time, the woman smiled knowingly and gestured behind her desk. "Room Number One is this way."


    The three looked ahead, and there it was. A single door set apart, standing quietly behind the help desk as if it had been waiting for them the whole time. All three exchanged wry smiles at their own oversight, then walked past the counter to the lone door.


    The moment they pushed it open, they found themselves facing another teleportation gate. Two protectors stood stationed on either side, their imposing ck robes unmistakable, silent and immovable as statues. Without hesitation, the trio stepped forward, and the door behind them closed with a soft click.


    "Cadets, over here." A clear voice drew their attention to the left. Five small desks were arranged in a neat row, each attended by a woman in a white robe. An empty chair stood before each desk.


    The three walked toward them. One of the officials gestured. "One person per desk, please."


    The trio exchanged nces, then separated. Eleanor moved to the first desk and stopped before the official seated there.


    "Please, sit down," the woman said evenly.


    "Thank you." Eleanor lowered herself onto the chair, her robe falling neatly around her.


    The woman nced at her tablet, then spoke in a precise, measured tone. "Cadet 659, this is the final stop before you officially step into the academy. Since you have already been assigned a cadet number, your identity as a cadet is confirmed... even if you should fail at this point onward."


    Eleanor listened quietly, her expression steady.


    "My duty," the official continued, "is to inform you of the basic rules you must know before your first day. As cadets are arriving from different time zones, today is considered an adjustment day. Your academy life will begin formally tomorrow morning at six o¡¯clock sharp."


    She paused, letting the words settle before continuing.


    "In the academy, we operate on a strict twenty-four-hour schedule. Every dormitory, ssroom, corridor, and office is equipped with synchronized wall clocks to ensure consistency. At 5:30 every morning, an rm will sound in your dormitory to wake you. From that moment, your schedule begins. Each activity is allotted its time until you return to your dormitory at ten o¡¯clock in the evening. Please review the details in your guide when you have a moment."


    She paused briefly, her eyes flicking across the tablet before returning to Eleanor. "Now, I will exin your routine for today. After entering the academy, you will be guided directly to your dormitory. Inside, you will find supplies prepared for you by the academy. These are listed in your guide. Please check every item carefully. If anything is missing, you must inform academy staff immediately."


    Her tone was steady, but not unkind. "At eight o¡¯clock this evening, you are required to attend dinner in the dining hall. Do not bete. The officer in charge there will exin the etiquette and rules you must observe during meals in the academy. I strongly advise you to review the dining hall manners section in your guide before you attend. In fact..." she tapped her stylus lightly against the tablet "you are expected to read the entire guide today. Tomorrow morning, the principal will meet you at the assembly. That will mark the true beginning of your cadet life. By then, we expect you to know and follow the guide¡¯s instructions."


    She shifted slightly, her voice taking on a weightier tone. "There are some cadets who failed to pass their trialst term and are attempting again. Understand this well... in this academy, there are no seniors and no juniors. All cadets are equal. Every cadet has the same routine, the same opportunities, and the same responsibilities."


    She gave Eleanor a pointed look before continuing. "You will receive ten points each day. Points are extremely important. While you will be given five meals daily, points can be used to purchase snacks or special items. In time, you will learn how essential they truly are. Consider this free advice... some cadets will try to lure you into duels, betting points. It is permitted by academy rules. However, if you are not confident in your abilities, do not gamble away your points. Points can be used for opportunities and resources money cannot buy in the outside world. Even leftover points at the end of the term can be exchanged for rare treasures. So remember... gather as many as you can. Do you understand?"


    "Yes," Eleanor replied firmly. "Understood."


    The woman inclined her head slightly in approval. "Good. Points may also be earned. Competitions, exams, and consistent discipline are rewarded. Professors themselves may choose to gift or deduct points. Conversely, breaking rules or showing poor discipline will cost you dearly. If a professor reprimands you, do not argue. Simply follow their instructions. If you believe you were treated unfairly, bring yourintter to the principal, but never confront a professor directly. Is that clear?"


    "Clear," Eleanor answered, nodding.


    The woman allowed herself a faint smile of satisfaction. "Once you have finished reading the guide, everything I have exined will be much clearer. My role here is only to give you a proper warning before you step through those gates. Remember this... ignorance of the rules will not protect you from losing points. If you fail to read the guide, you will suffer for it without even realizing how. Now..."


    She straightened, her expression sharpening as her hand fished something under the desk. "...let us move on to the main matter of this station."


    The woman gave Eleanor a devilish smile, ced a jade bottle on the desk before her, and said, "There is a pill inside. Open the bottle and swallow it. This pill will enhance your brain, allowing you to understand anynguage known to us, whether spoken or written. It will also upgrade your mind. Beware, however... your body may react unpredictably as your brain undergoes the change. Example... a harmless sleeping pill might only make you drowsy for a second, or it could plunge you into aa. Be mentally prepared for anything. But rest assured... the academy guarantees it will not harm you."


    She paused, then added in a lighter tone, "You will also gain a disy panel in your mind, essible whenever you wish. It will show your basic details, cultivation level, skills, and more. Your guide contains a Chapter on it... read thatter. I am no expert, so please don¡¯t ask technical questions. All I can say is that this pill will be invaluable in your trial and beyond. It has nosting side effects. That is all I know... as a user myself."


    Her face settled into professionalism once more. "Now, please proceed."


    Eleanor nced sideways. Kiara and Ophelia sat motionless in their chairs, staring nkly ahead. "They must have already swallowed it," she thought.


    At that moment, Nora spoke hurriedly in her mind. "Master, the pill isposed of concentrated NeuroSync Nanogel. I am certain it is an advanced version of what you had invented and used. These nanobots are independent, not connected to any external system. They must have been programmed with a limited set of instructions to follow autonomously. If you allow the pill to melt in your mouth instead of swallowing it whole, I can decode the new nanobots and upgrade the older ones as they merge with your brain. They will still fulfil their presetmands, but you will hold some control over them."


    "Very well. Here we go..." Eleanor whispered inwardly, uncorking the bottle and cing the crystal-clear pill upon her tongue.


    It began to melt instantly, sliding down her throat with a strange coolness. A bitter smile touched her lips. "I spent millions perfecting this project, only to discover a superior version already exists in this world... and I receive it here for free."


    Her thought was cut short by Nora¡¯s urgent warning. "Master, you may lose consciousness. The process of upgrading every nanobot will drain an immense amount of energy. Don¡¯t worry..."


    Nora couldn¡¯t finish. Eleanor had already fainted.


    The woman behind the desk stood up, leaned over and calmly pressed a rune on the chair. At once, it held Eleanor upright, preventing her from slumping to the ground. She had witnessed such reactions many times before. Still, it surprised her... werewolves almost never fainted from the pill. Humans did, owing to their weaker physiques. This was the first time she had ever seen, or even heard of, a werewolf copsing.


    She waited patiently, her eyes flicking asionally to Kiara and Ophelia. One had alreadypleted the process, while the other¡¯s body trembled faintly with signs of nearingpletion.


    A few minutester, both of them rose smoothly to their feet and moved to Eleanor¡¯s side.


    "Do not worry," the woman said calmly. "Your friend merely fainted. It happens. She must have a weaker constitution. She will wake shortly. You may enter the teleportation gate now, or you may wait for her."


    As they waited by Eleanor¡¯s chair, a werecat, two werewolves, and two merfolk finished their own process and passed through the shimmering gate into the academy beyond.

 Chapter 214: Inside the Academy

    <h4>Chapter 214: Inside the Academy</h4>


    Kiara and Ophelia remained uneasy despite the official¡¯s calm assurance that there was no danger. Both of them knew Eleanor was an awakened Elizabeth. She might be many things, but never weak. Yet none of the academy staff appeared even remotely troubled by her condition. Eleanor, meanwhile, looked as though she were merely sleeping, her expression serene, her breathing steady. With no outward sign of distress, they forced themselves to wait patiently.


    Atst, after more than half an hour, Eleanor¡¯sshes fluttered and her eyes opened. But instead of regaining full awareness, she fell into a daze. Within her mind, a translucent disy bloomed into view. Nora¡¯s voice echoed softly.


    "Master, please examine what you have gained from this upgrade. This panel was pre-programmed by the academy, but I can also show you some additional information... though that lies beyond their design. I suggest leaving that forter, when you have the time. For now, read through this. The others are waiting for you to wake."


    The official rose from her seat and tapped the rune again, disengaging the restraint upon Eleanor¡¯s chair.


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze settled upon the glowing panel before her eyes.


    [Status Screen]


    Cadet Name: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor


    Cadet Number: 10156659


    Institution: Ascendance Academy of Midgard


    Race: Werewolf (Alpha)


    Bloodline: Mind Reaver (Awakened), Thunderbolt (Dormant)


    Cultivation Level: Awakened


    Academy Points: --


    Unique Abilities:


    Mind eleration [Active] ¨C Cognitive speed vastly heightened; capable of predicting enemy movements in real time.


    Bloodlust Instinct [Passive] ¨C Sharpensbat instincts to lethal efficiency while inbat mode.


    Eidetic Memory [Passive] ¨C Perfect recall of every experience.


    Adaptive Muscle Memory [Passive] ¨C Newly acquired skills are instantly integrated into the body.


    Universal Comprehension [Passive] ¨C Immediate understanding of all spoken and writtennguages.


    Night Vision [Passive] ¨C wless vision in total darkness.


    Combat Skills:


    Tactical Foresight [Passive] ¨C Battlefield analysed at a nce; enables optimal targeting and movement.


    Killing Precision [Passive] ¨C Strikes automatically direct themselves towards vital points.


    Predator¡¯s Awareness [Passive] ¨C Senses minute shifts in an opponent¡¯s intent or movement.


    Overdrive Focus [Active] ¨C Channelstent energy into heightened speed and reflexes for a brief duration.


    Mind Arts:


    Mental Lock [Active] ¨C Locks onto a chosen target, suppressing all distractions until the kill is achieved.


    rity Veil [Passive] ¨C Immunity to illusions, mind-control, and memory tampering.


    Memory Erasure [Active] ¨C Erases selected memories from weaker beings for a limited span.


    When she finished reading, Eleanor decisively closed the screen. Though questions crowded her mind, she pushed them aside forter. Her vision sharpened as awareness returned, and she nced around.


    The first person she noticed was the official seated before her. The woman was smiling faintly. "Congrattions. Can you see your status?" she asked.


    Eleanor nodded. "Yes."


    "How many academy points do you have?"


    "None. There are two dashes in the line," Eleanor replied.


    "Excellent," the woman said as she produced a ck wristwatch-like device and set it on the desk. "Wear this. Although it looks like a watch, it is far more than that. It establishes your link to the academy. From now on, you must wear it at all times. It is resistant to heat, water, and impact. The moment you wear it on your wrist, it will sync to your body. It also functions as a tracker... should the device ever be forcibly removed, protectors will rush to yourst known location. In addition, it constantly monitors your health. If you suffer any mortal injury, the academy will be alerted immediately. Now, please put it on."


    Eleanor obeyed, fastening it securely to her left wrist.


    "Good. Now open your status again and check your points," the woman instructed.


    At a mentalmand, the translucent panel bloomed once more before Eleanor¡¯s eyes. She scanned directly to the line.


    "Academy Points: 0"


    Closing the screen, she said aloud, "Now the point is zero."


    "Correct," the woman confirmed. "That means your system is properly connected. The device will keep your points updated while you are inside the academy. Once you leave, it will be useless and must be returned. One final piece of advice... your status screen is yours alone. Not even the principal can ess it. If you wish to keep any abilities hidden, simply refrain from sharing them."


    She leaned back slightly, her tone softening. "Now you are ready to enter the academy. Your friends have been waiting long enough. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask one of our officials... we are here to assist you."


    Eleanor rose smoothly to her feet. "Thank you." Her gaze drifted to Kiara and Ophelia, who still stood nearby with concern written across their faces.


    "Let¡¯s go," she said, striding towards the teleportation gate. The two followed without hesitation.


    ***


    The instant they stepped through, the world shifted. They emerged inside a spacious hall. Several white-robed men and women lounged in chairs ahead, chatting idly amongst themselves. At the cadets¡¯ arrival, three of them broke off and approached. One was a Naga in human form, the other two were merfolk whose steps carried a graceful, fluid poise.


    Eleanor stiffened slightly. Up until now, at the front office... she had seen only fairies serving as officials. She had assumed the entire academy staff belonged to the same race. Yet here, before her eyes, were representatives from across the known world: werewolves, vampires, kitsune, merfolk, and more. Clearly her assumption had been mistaken.


    A merfolk woman came forward, extending a pale, webbed hand. Her sea-green eyes gleamed with an amiable lustre. "Cadet 659, I am Ondina Marise di Mare. I will be your guide from here. A room has already been assigned to you in the dormitory ording to your cadet number. Please follow me."


    "Okay. Thank you." Eleanor epted her hand with a firm, courteous shake.


    Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kiara and Ophelia each being greeted by their own assigned guides.


    "Don¡¯t worry," Ondina said, catching her nce. "We will all walk together. There is a single dormitory for cadets, though rooms are distributed by cadet number. You may not be direct neighbours, but it is very possible you will be on the same floor. At the moment, we are standing in the teleportation hall of the Administrative Building. I will take you now to your dormitory so you may settle in."


    Turning towards the rest of the group, she added brightly, "Shall we go together?"


    The others nodded, and so Eleanor and herpanions fell in step behind her.


    Exiting the teleportation hall, Eleanor found herself in a long corridor. The teleportation hall stood at its far end, while doors lined both sides of the passage. Brass tes gleamed above each doorframe, etched with neatly ordered numbers.


    Ondina raised her voice slightly so all could hear. "Right now, we are on the first floor of the Administrative Building. The rooms on both sides belong to the administrative staff. Your guidebook contains a detailed map that exins the function of each office. This building has three levels... the second floor is for the principal and the higher officials, while the ground floor contains the offices of professors and academic staff. Normally, you will have little reason toe here, but I strongly advise you to remember the room numbers listed in your guidebook for emergencies."


    Her eyes swept over the group, pausing briefly on Eleanor and herpanions. "You must have already been told how important the guidebook is. But let me remind you once more... today you must remain in the dormitory except at dinner. Use this time wisely to memorise the guide. From tomorrow onwards, your days will be consumed by physical training and academic studies. Free time for personal reading will be rare."


    She stopped speaking for a moment, then added in a steadier tone, "Today we are here to help you settle in. From tomorrow, we resume our normal duties at the academy. I work in the ounts department. Lotus and Corallina..." she gestured towards the Naga and the second merfolk at her side, "are with the estate department. Unless an emergency arises, you may not see us again. So, if you have any questions, ask now."


    Eleanor thought for a moment before speaking. "I heard those who join as academy staff must leave their ns behind ande to Kvernheim to live. Is that true?"


    Ondina inclined her head. "You heard correctly. All staff who join the academy must sever ties with their ns to ensure the academy remains impartial. If they are married and have children, their families must also move here. The fairies dwell near Lord Yggdrasil. Dragons, however, have no ns... they live in territories, usually in pairs. Their birth rate is low, and when their young ones mature, they leave to im a new territory. Dragons dislike crowded cities and seldom remain in human form for long, so most keep to their wilderness territories rather than living here in Kvernheim. The city itself was built slowly over centuries by academy staff and their families. To this day, only we academy staff, the dragons, and the fairies could ownnd within its borders. The rule applies equally to all."


    She paused, her tone softening. "Of course, leaving one¡¯s n can bring a psychic toll. Yet the prosperity offered to future generations outweighs the loss. Unlike the professors, we staff enjoy priority whenever general recruitment opens. My father, too, serves as academy staff. I was epted because my qualifications met the standard. Many of us are now second or even third generation. But do not worry... under the watchful gaze of Lord Yggdrasil, no one dares practise discrimination here."


    The corridor stretched on and on. For more than five minutes they walked before finally descending to the ground floor. Eleanor noticed how the numbering changed... the first floor held roomsbelled 101, 102, and so forth, while the ground floor was marked with 001, 002, and so on.


    Atst, they stepped out through the main entrance. And a splendour unfolded before them. A majesty of nature intertwined with the grandeur of ancient architecture greeted their eyes, so breathtakingly beautiful that for a heartbeat Eleanor felt her chest tighten.

 Chapter 215: To the Dormitory

    <h4>Chapter 215: To the Dormitory</h4>


    The Ascendance Academy of Midgard stood at the heart of a vast valley, ringed by mountains that rose like solemn sentinels. Their slopes were draped in forests woven from every shade of green imaginable... deep pine, vivid emerald, and shes of bright new growth that caught the light like fire brought to leaf. The trees climbed until they blurred into the mist-wreathed summits, where jagged peaks kissed the endless sky. The air itself carried a sharp, untamed freshness,ced with the resin of pine, the sweetness of blooming flowers, and a faint metallic tang, as though thend¡¯s very roots whispered of hidden mineral magic.


    The academy grounds unfolded before Eleanor like a kingdom of their own, vast and deliberate. From the steps of the Administrative Building, she could see three-storied structures rising amid the trees in every direction. Their red-brick walls, patterned with gothic arches and crowned with elegant gables, seemed shaped by the dreams of medieval masons. They glowed warmly beneath thest touch of sunlight, as if the valley itself had epted their presence into its ancient design.


    The other side of the buildings stretched open fields, rich and green, their surfaces smoothed with impossible precision. Courts for football, basketball, volleyball, hockey, and tennisy in measured symmetry, their white lines bright against the turf. Further away, an outline of a swimming pool shimmered... not a mere basin of water, but a wless mirror of the heavens, turning the low sun into a sheet of liquid gold.


    Led by Ondina, the group marched forward along a smooth ck pitch road that wound in graceful arcs to join the scattered structures. On either side, tall trees stood in stately lines, their branches arched high overhead to weave living vaults of leaves and blossoms. Yet these were no ordinary trees... some bore blossoms as wide as a hand, glowing faintly with inner luminescence; others gleamed with silver bark, polished so bright it caught every wandering ray of light.


    At their roots bloomed wildflowers in radiant clusters, colours colliding into an artistry that seemed too perfect to be chance... blues as deep as ocean chasms, reds brighter than me, yellows and violets that pulsed like jewels alive. Vines coiled and uncoiled between them, tipped with crystalline petals that fractured the light into tiny rainbows. Bees with wings like stained ss driftedzily among them, while hummingbirds darted past in streaks of iridescent emerald and gold.


    Above them, stretched a sky wless and immense, shading slowly from unbroken blue to the amber and rose of sunset. The sun sank low, scattering its light across the valley until every leaf, every stone, and every de of grass glowed with a golden sheen. It was as though the world itself held its breath, suspended in thest perfect moment between day and night.


    Yet beneath all its solidity, something else stirred... an undertone of strangeness. At the edges of visiony a shimmer, a subtle reminder that this ce was not bound by the ordinary rules of Earth. Every tree, every flower, every stone of those castle-like halls seemed alive, vibrating faintly with a quiet, unspoken majesty.


    While Eleanor was greedily basking in the beauty of the academy, Ondina broke the silence. "Look to your right. That is the dining hall. Tonight, you must report there at eight o¡¯clock sharp. It¡¯s nearly six now, so you have two hours to prepare. Don¡¯t bete on your first day."


    Eleanor and herpanions turned their heads. Unlike the taller, gabled buildings of three stories, this hall did not strive upward but stretched outward, its vast breadth giving it the weight of a giant sleeping across the earth.


    Its roof swept high and wide, d in dark te tiles that caught the fading light in a soft sheen. Tall arched windows marched along its sides in perfect rhythm, each framed by carved stone lintels. In the glow of sunset, those windows burned like panels of molten copper, flinging the sky¡¯s fire back at them.


    Lotus spoke next, her voice lower but carrying a hint of mischief. "It would be wise to read the dining hall section in your guide. Tonight, General Maximilian Veers, the officer in charge of the dining hall, will brief you on dining protocols. He treats every cadet as though they were soldiers. Discipline matters most to him. If you¡¯re prepared, you may earn extra points. He is generous... with both rewards and penalties."


    Corallina cast a wary nce about before adding in a whisper, "Please don¡¯t tell others about this. We¡¯re not supposed to speak this way, but... think of it as a secret gift from your guides."


    Ondina pped her hands softly, as though to break the secretive mood. "Enough of that. Now, Cadets, look to the three-storied building beside the dining hall. That is your destination. Can you guess what it is?"


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze followed her gesture. The structure before her contrasted sharply with the dining hall. It rose in a square, deliberate mass, its symmetry lending it a quiet authority. The deep red brick glowed warmly in the evening light, though its stern geometry was softened by the golden hue of sunset.


    Three rows of windows lined its sides, tall and narrow, each crowned with an arch of pale stone. Some reflected the sky¡¯s fading colours, while others revealed shadowed interiors, glowing faintly asnterns were lit within. The roofline was t, broken only by short gables at the corners, and the base was ringed by hedges and flowerbeds, a careful touch of softness against its strength.


    Kiara¡¯s eyes lingered on it before she said, "That must be our dormitory."


    Ondina nodded. "Correct. It may lookpact, but it isrger inside. Each floor holds fifty rooms for cadets. Every batch admits one hundred, including the repeaters. The first and second floors are reserved for cadets. The ground floor is used differently... for single staff members, temporary guests, and certain services likeundry and shops. Some rooms also serve as offices. Before you explore, study your guidebook to learn how to use academy points for these services. It will save you mistakes."


    Ophelia asked, "Is there any service for us tomunicate with our family?"


    Ondina shook her head. "Normally, no. But once a month, you¡¯ll have an outing day when you can visit Kvernheim city. From there, you may use payphones to contact your family. On that day, the academy grants each cadet two hundred dors to spend. Most use a portion of it for calls."


    Kiara frowned. "Can¡¯t we just get our phones back for that day?"


    "No," Ondina replied firmly. "The academy forbidsmunicating with families during term. The allowance is meant for food, leisure, and smallforts to break the monotony of academy life. Whether cadets spend it properly or not... the academy turns a blind eye."


    By the time she finished, they had arrived at the dormitory gate. The entrance was not a separate structure but a vast opening carved into the ground floor itself, a great archway that seemed to bear the weight of the dormitory upon its shoulders. From the second storey upward, the red brick continued seamlessly, as though the building had grown around this passage with careful intention.


    The arch soared above them in quiet majesty, its curves etched with patterns Eleanor had never seen before... winding lines like vines, interwoven with stars and moons. The pale stone framing it gleamed faintly in the lingering sunset, as if holding its own light. Passing beneath it felt less like entering a dormitory and more like stepping into the guarded gate of an ancient kingdom.


    Beyond the gate, they saw an extremely beautiful garden. The square-shaped garden stretched at the heart of the dormitory, bnced between precision and abundance. Beds of roses, lilies, and hydrangeas spilled their colours in radiant profusion, each bloom luminous in the fading glow. At the corners rose tall ornamental trees, their boughs arched inward as though to shelter the square. Smooth stone pathways divided the garden into neat quadrants, all leading toward its centrepiece.


    At the very center, a fountain rose from a wide basin of polished marble. Its sculpted tiers sent arcs of water crisscrossing high into the air, droplets catching the sunlight like fragments of crystal before falling back in a soothing chorus. The spray filled the courtyard with a fine mist, cooling the air and carrying the faint scent of the surrounding flowers.


    Encircling the garden, the dormitory walls rose three stories high on all four sides, their rows of windows and open corridors looking inward. Doors to the rooms lined the galleries, their railings decorated with climbing ivy and hanging baskets of blooms, as though every floor contributed to the life of the courtyard below. The symmetry of brick and bloom, water and stone, created a harmony both dignified and weing.


    Just beside the gate, a temporary map disyed the cadet numbers and their assigned rooms. After a moment of searching, Kiara groaned aloud. "Damn it! My luck again! Both of your rooms are in the same corridor, but mine¡¯s all the way across the wing."


    Eleanor gave her a small smile. "Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re still on the same floor. It won¡¯t take you more than a couple of minutes to reach us."

 Chapter 216: The Neighbour

    <h4>Chapter 216: The Neighbour</h4>


    Around the fountain, they parted ways. Eleanor and Ophelia followed Ondina and Lotus toward the back wing of the dormitory¡¯s second floor, while Kiara and Corallina turned left, bound for the right wing.


    Though all four wings were joined by a long corridor, three staircases provided ess... one at the back, and one each on the left and right. Eleanor and Ophelia climbed the rear stairs with their guides. The first room they passed belonged to Eleanor... her cadet number was 659, and her assigned room was 227.


    "Ophelia, I¡¯ll rest for a while," Eleanor said. "Come to my room at seven-thirty. We¡¯ll go to the dining hall together. You should also settle in your own room first. If you need anything, you cane anytime."


    Ophelia nodded. "Alright. I¡¯ll be in my room too."


    Eleanor turned to Lotus with a polite smile. "Thank you, senior. Please take care of us in the future."


    Just then, the door to 228 creaked open. A youthful, bronze-skinned girl poked her head out, sniffed the air, and shed a broad smile across her full lips. She stepped into the corridor, revealing a figure sculpted with athletic grace... sharp cheekbones, crystal-clear eyes like droplets of water, and a vitality that radiated from her every movement.


    With enthusiasm, she extended her hand. "Beautiful neighbour, I am Ma¨ªra, Cadet 660. I¡¯m delighted to find an Alpha werewolf beside me."


    Eleanor recognised her instantly. She had seen this face in the n¡¯s intelligence reports. Ma¨ªra Arara Neblina... the young head of the Amazon n, daughter of the watcher of werewolves Yara Arara Neblina. Barely twenty-two, yet already famous within her n as apetent assassin. Though her fighting prowess was supposed to remain secret until she came of age, the Raynor n had secured intelligence about her. Eleanor knew well enough that this girl was likely far more dangerous than the intelligence they received.


    Eleanor epted the handshake with her business-like demeanour. "Eleanor, Cadet 659. Let¡¯s get along in the future. This is Ophelia, and these are our guides, Senior Ondina and Senior Lotus."


    Ophelia offered her hand next. "Hello, I¡¯m Cadet 665. My room is 233."


    Ma¨ªra shook it warmly. "Then we¡¯ll be seeing each other often." Turning to the guides, she bowed with polite respect. "Seniors, I ask for your guidance as well."


    Ondina smiled. "Of course. See you in future." She nced at Lotus. "Finish up at 233, then return here. We¡¯ll leave together."


    "Understood," Lotus replied, continuing with Ophelia down the corridor.


    Eleanor turned her head to Ma¨ªra. "We¡¯ll catch upter. For now, please excuse us."


    With that, Ondina and Eleanor stepped into room 227.


    The dormitory room provedfortably spacious. A dragon in full size would never fit, of course, but for a werewolf in human form it was generous, even more than necessary. The walls and ceiling were painted a soft sky blue, lending the room a sense of openness and calm.


    On one side stood arge, neatly made bed d in full white. Opposite it rose a broad wardrobe and a bookshelf already stocked with an assortment of volumes. Beside the shelf was a closed door, while across from it a wide, clear-ss window flooded the room with evening light. In front of the window stood a sturdy table and two chairs; atop the table sat a shiny newptop and a modern tablemp, curiously without a single wire protruding.


    Another, smaller window was beside the door, and through it, Eleanor glimpsed Ma¨ªra walking back into her own room next door.


    Ondina shut the door behind them. "This room will be your home throughout your term here. Our staff have already checked each room and confirmed everything is in order. Still, I suggest you test things yourselfter. If something doesn¡¯t work, read your guidebook first... it contains instructions for using every piece of equipment. And if the problem persists, go to the estate manager¡¯s office at Room 010 on the ground floor and report it there."


    She paused, then continued, "Your bedes with two pillows. You will not receive any more, no matter what excuse you give, so learn to adjust. Likewise, you won¡¯t be provided with chemical substances like soap or toiletries. But don¡¯t worry... all clothing is embedded with cleansing spells, so no one will ever stink. The water in the academy also has natural purifying properties; that should be enough for your needs."


    Ondina gestured toward the wardrobe. "Right now it¡¯s empty. After dinner, your academy-issued clothes will be delivered here. On the ground floor there is aundry room; your garments can be magically cleaned there. The instructions are in your guidebook."


    She crossed to the bookshelf. "Here you¡¯ll find paperback copies of all your academic texts. You may read them here or carry them to ss. Every book also exists in digital form on yourptop, if you prefer reading on a screen. Your table itself functions as a charging pad... ce yourptop on the table when its battery is low. The tablemp charges the same way. Themp has a manual switch, but your overhead light... which is your entire ceiling and that can only be controlled with your personal device." She pointed toward Eleanor¡¯s wrist. "Press the white button on the side."


    Eleanor pressed it. The ceiling lit at once with a soft, radiant glow, filling the room with soothing white light.


    "If you press it again, the ceiling light will turn off," Ondina exined. "The bathroom has a separate light that requires a double press. Come."


    She opened the small door beside the bookshelf, revealing a surprisingly luxurious bathroom with a bathtub, toilet, basin, and a tall mirror.


    "Press two times, please," Ondina said.


    Eleanor did, and the light bloomed overhead along with a gentle hum from hidden vents.


    Ondina continued, "The bathroom light and venttion run together. Your door handles are already synchronized with your personal device. Both the main door and this one. No cadet without authorization will ever be able to open them. Academy staff can... but if they do, their device is instantly recorded in the system. For example, when I opened your main and bathroom doors just now, my name was recorded. But when you unlock them, it won¡¯t log anything as your device meant to do so. That is why many of us call the device a key."


    She stepped back and pointed above the front door. "See that wall clock? It¡¯s also a speaker. Each morning it will sound a wake-up rm for the mandatory exercise... just once. For all other routines, you are expected to manage your own time. Any emergency announcements or schedule changes will alsoe through that speaker."


    Her tone grew serious. "Without your key, you cannot ess yourptop. And everything you save on it will be erased by the staff, the moment you leave the academy. While the whole academy is integrated into a central system, it does not pry into personal space. Many professors conduct personal research here, guarded by the same safeguards. The same applies to cadets. You are free to record or write whatever you like... but it will all be wiped when your term ends."


    She studied Eleanor closely. "I notice you¡¯ve been speaking English. You might not have realized, but I¡¯ve spoken Sardinian this whole time. In the academy, you can use anynguage. The person listening will always hear in their own tongue. After the enhancement injection, a smart trantor was embedded in your mind. Keep that in mind."


    At that moment came a knock at the door. "Sister Ondina, it¡¯s me," Lotus¡¯s voice called.


    "Coming," Ondina answered. She turned back to Eleanor and walked to the window near the door. "Here... your windows have a transform switch." She pressed a small notch at the base, and the ss darkened to matte ck. It reflected nothing, blocking all view in or out.


    "When you sleep, always blind the windows," Ondina advised. "That way, no one can peer inside. You may keep them opaque all the time if you wish. This is a mixed dormitory. A girl deserves her privacy."


    She lingered a moment in thought, then concluded, "I¡¯ve exined everything you need to know for now. If you¡¯re uncertain about anything, read your guidebook first. Don¡¯t bete to dinner tonight... and never walk outside without your robe. Take care."


    With that, she opened the door.


    "Thank you, Senior," Eleanor said quietly as Ondina stepped out.


    The door closed again.


    Left alone, Eleanor let out a long sigh. The roomcked any visible cooling system, yet the air was pleasantly temperate. She removed her robe, hung it neatly inside the wardrobe, then walked back and locked the door manually. Pulling out a chair, she sat at the table. Relief washed through her as she finally allowed herself to rx.


    "Nora, can you scan the room for monitoring or recording devices?" she asked silently.


    "I¡¯ve already checked," Nora replied in her head. "There are none. Still, Master, I advise you not to speakmands aloud. I¡¯ll inform you once I am absolutely certain. For now, caution is best. The device on your wrist only sends signals to the disy panel... it doesn¡¯t attempt to collect or transmit information. However, the nanobots in your body do contain significant hidden data. Much of it is blocked. I could break the encryption by force, but I believe it is unnecessary. These protocols will likely reveal themselves once specific conditions are met."


    "Alright," Eleanor murmured inwardly. She opened theptop. The screen red to life with a prompt: "Touch your personal identification device to the touchpad."


    Eleanor ced her wrist device against it.


    "Wee, Cadet 659, the screen read. Please select yournguage." A long list appeared. Eleanor scrolled and selected English.


    "Master," Nora said with urgency, "thisptop has an active link to an external server. Give me a moment to investigate further."

 Chapter 217: Assessing the Situation

    <h4>Chapter 217: Assessing the Situation</h4>


    Nearly five minutes passed before Nora¡¯s voice finally returned. "Master, I¡¯ve confirmed my findings. Thisptop does connect to a server, but it¡¯s local... contained within this campus. The server is essentially a dead end, built only for cadets to share and download books. At the moment, all active connections are confined to this dormitory. I can, if necessary, use it to reach other cadets¡¯ptops. But the outside world remains inessible. I¡¯ve already reinforced your firewall... no one will be able to ess your system without me noticing."


    Eleanor exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing. At least that part is safe. "How did you manage to ess theptop in the first ce if there¡¯s no inte?" she asked.


    "The Wi-Fi module is left on by default," Nora replied matter-of-factly. "Since there¡¯s no external inte in this facility, they didn¡¯t bother restricting it. Before you even selected yournguage, I was able to slip in via that connection."


    Eleanor frowned. "Without the inte, then... how do I contact the outside world? Did you try reaching satellites?"


    "I tried multiple times," Nora admitted. "But ever since we entered the first teleportation gate, I haven¡¯t been able to detect a single satellite signal. This ce is cut offpletely. Still... it puzzles me. Researchers here can¡¯t possibly work in istion. They must have channels to the outside world. Phones, data links, perhaps even hidden terminals. Cadets may not be allowed ess, but I suspect there are restricted areas where professors could connect freely. If I can find those pathways, I might tap into them... discreetly."


    "Then I¡¯ll explore as much of the academy as I can," Eleanor resolved. "Keep scanning. We¡¯ll uncover something eventually. But for now... priorities. Did you find anything else on theptop besides books?"


    "Nothing," Nora confirmed. "The drive is filled exclusively with academic books... but there are thousands of them. This is a treasure trove of knowledge, Master. You should take advantage of it while you¡¯re here."


    Eleanor allowed herself a faint smile. "You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll rest for a bit and start with the guidebook. Dinner¡¯s not far off."


    She left theptop on the table after briefly skimming the stored files. Rising, she retrieved her guidebook from the pocket of her robe, then crossed to the bed. Pulling back the white bedcover, she sat and set the guidebook on the pillows. After slipping off her shoes and socks, shey down on the mattress. The softness met her body perfectly, the pillows just the right size. She decided to use only one for her head and kept the other aside.


    She had just reached for the guidebook when Nora interrupted again. "Master, before you read, I rmend checking your updated status screen."


    A glowing panel appeared before Eleanor¡¯s eyes.


    [Status Screen]


    Cadet Name: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor


    Cadet Number: 10156659


    Institution: Ascendance Academy of Midgard


    Race: Werewolf (Alpha)


    Bloodline: Mind Reaver (Level-1), Thunderbolt (Dormant)


    Cultivation Level: Awakened


    Academy Points: 0


    Unique Abilities:


    Mind eleration [Active] ¨C Cognitive speed vastly heightened; capable of predicting enemy movements in real time.


    Bloodlust Instinct [Passive] ¨C Sharpensbat instincts to lethal efficiency while inbat mode.


    Eidetic Memory [Passive] ¨C Perfect recall of every experience.


    Adaptive Muscle Memory [Passive] ¨C Newly acquired skills are instantly integrated into the body.


    Universal Comprehension [Passive] ¨C Immediate understanding of all spoken and writtennguages.


    Night Vision [Passive] ¨C wless vision in total darkness.


    Combat Skills:


    Tactical Foresight [Passive] ¨C Battlefield analysed at a nce; enables optimal targeting and movement.


    Killing Precision [Passive] ¨C Strikes automatically direct themselves towards vital points.


    Predator¡¯s Awareness [Passive] ¨C Senses minute shifts in an opponent¡¯s intent or movement.


    Overdrive Focus [Active] ¨C Channelstent energy into heightened speed and reflexes for a brief duration.


    Mind Arts:


    Mental Lock [Active] ¨C Locks onto a chosen target, suppressing all distractions until the kill is achieved.


    rity Veil [Passive] ¨C Immunity to illusions, mind-control, and memory tampering.


    Memory Erasure [Active] ¨C Erases selected memories from weaker beings for a limited span.


    Nora¡¯s voice came steadily in her mind. "Master, I¡¯ve discovered how this information panel operates. The nanobots you received from the academy have dispersed throughout your body. The system itself runs independently,manding the bots to collect data from your body and brain to disy on the screen. At the same time, it continuously works to keep your physiology at optimal condition. It even elerates natural regeneration. Your werewolf healing was already formidable... this boost simply makes it faster."


    She paused, then continued, "I haven¡¯t altered the academy¡¯s programming, only ced it under my protection. Forcing control might riskplications. But if anyone attempts to ess or override it, they¡¯ll have to pass through my firewall first."


    Eleanor nodded faintly. "Good. That¡¯s the right call. But keep monitoring everything it does... track every activity, every adjustment. I want to push this system to its limits eventually. And... if you can, seed more nanobots into the system. Anything to elerate regeneration further."


    She hesitated, then asked, "Nora... howe there¡¯s another bloodline in me?"


    "When the nanobots entered your body, their first priority was integration with your brain, granting you the ability you now know as Universal Comprehension," Nora exined. "The second was to analyze your race and bloodline by embedding themselves in key points throughout your body. The system contains data on many bloodlines... itpared your biology against them and discovered traces of two. The one you¡¯ve already awakened is your Mind Reaver bloodline... what you call your Elizabeth bloodline. Night Visiones from your werewolf race, but most of your unique abilities are derived from that awakened bloodline. Because it¡¯s only at Level 1, most of your powers are passive or rudimentary."


    She paused, then added, "Earlier, when I probed the sealed sections of new data, the system itself shifted. Your ssification changed from Awakened to Level 1. That suggests deeperyers are locked behind progression. As you raise your bloodline level, more information and abilities will unlock naturally."


    Eleanor absorbed this quietly. Then her eyes sharpened. "And the other one? This Thunderbolt bloodline... I¡¯ve never known that I have it. If my memory is right, it belongs to the Lychos n. Why would I have it?"


    Nora paused before replying. "From what I can ess, it appears to be the same situation as your Elizabeth bloodline. If awakened, it would strengthen your physicalbat, where your Elizabeth bloodline empowers the mind. I suspect your bloodline potion may be the key to triggering it."


    She continued, "As for how it came to you... only one exnation seems usible. One of your parents carried the dormant bloodline, passed down silently for generations while they were human. You can consider it a hidden inheritance or a blessing, if you will."


    Eleanor fell silent. Her hand tightened unconsciously against the sheets. "...My mother is gone. And I¡¯ve never even seen my father. I suppose I¡¯ll never know the truth."


    Her chest grew heavy as memories surfaced... her mother¡¯s final choice, sacrificing herself to allow Eleanor¡¯s birth. A long, slow sigh escaped her lips.


    Sensing the sudden weight in her master¡¯s mood, Nora gently diverted the conversation. "Master, I¡¯ve located a vast library connected to yourptop¡¯s virtual server. It will take me some time to store everything. In the meantime, you should finish your guidebook before dinner. I won¡¯t be active while I work, but if you need me, just call. And please... keep theptop open."


    With that, her presence faded into silence.


    Eleanor couldn¡¯t help a small, wry smile. "She¡¯s bing more and more sentient... learning faster than I ever anticipated."


    She reached for the guidebook resting by her pillow, opened its first page, and began to read.


    ***


    Exactly at seven-thirty, Ophelia knocked on the door of room 227. Eleanor was so immersed in her guidebook that she almost forgot about dinner. At the sound, she instinctively spread her awareness outward and sensed Ophelia and Kiara waiting patiently outside.


    She slipped off the bed, smoothing down the creases in her uniform as she walked to the door. With a soft click, she opened it and said, "Come in."


    Both women entered and shut the door behind them. "Eleanor, were you already reading textbooks?" Kiara asked, her eyes flicking toward the glowingptop.


    Eleanor shook her head. "No. I still haven¡¯t finished the guidebook."


    Kiara leaned closer, peering at the device. "Oh! But yourptop¡¯s still open. I thought you were ahead of us already. Those books are... honestly, fascinating. I don¡¯t even know which subjects they¡¯ll throw at me here, but for the first time in years, I¡¯m actually eager to learn again."


    Eleanor¡¯s lips curved faintly at Kiara¡¯s enthusiasm.


    Ophelia, more serious, said, "Ma¡¯am, did you finish the guidebook yet?"


    "More than halfway," Eleanor replied. "I¡¯ll finish it tonight."


    Sending a mentalmand for Nora to wrap up her work, Eleanor went into the bathroom. Towels were neatly stacked on the rack,bs of different sizes lined the counter, and a hair dryer sat by the basin. She washed her face, ran ab through her hair, and emerged refreshed as she was ready to venture outside.


    As she stepped out, Ophelia said, "Ma¡¯am, the Ma¨ªra girl from 227 is waiting outside. We... couldn¡¯t open the door."


    "Oh?" Eleanor arched a brow. "Didn¡¯t your guide tell you? Except for the owner, no one can unlock these doors."


    "She did," Kiara admitted with a sheepish smile. "But I thought that was only from the outside."


    Eleanor shook her head slightly, then opened the door.


    The moment it swung inward, Ma¨ªra darted in as though released from a spring. "I was waiting for you! You said you¡¯d go to the dining hall together at seven-thirty. We¡¯re alreadyte!"


    Eleanor calmly stepped aside, giving the girl space. "Dinner is at eight. We still have plenty of time. If you¡¯re that anxious, you can always go ahead early."


    Ma¨ªra froze, her cheeks flushing as she spoke. "Ah... sorry if I disturbed you." She fidgeted, then blurted, "I live in the forest, you know. This is the first time I¡¯ve ever been away from home. And... there are vampires and other races here." Her shoulders shuddered slightly. "They give me the creeps. Honestly, I¡¯d rather wrestle a jaguar than sit beside them."


    Her gaze flicked between Eleanor, Ophelia, and Kiara, almost pleading. "You¡¯re all werewolves, right? Please... let me join your circle. I don¡¯t want to feel alone here."


    Her tone was so much like a child begging for candy that Eleanor had to suppress a smile.

 Chapter 218: How to Make Friends

    <h4>Chapter 218: How to Make Friends</h4>


    Eleanor looked at the girl in a new light. Ma¨ªra had no idea who she was dealing with. She didn¡¯t know Eleanor. Even after hearing her name, she showed no reaction. Perhaps it was an act, but Eleanor doubted that a young girl her age could perform so wlessly before her. It confirmed that her family had not allowed her ess to intelligence reports. She wasn¡¯t prepared to shoulder the responsibilities of a young n head. The king¡¯s sudden decree must have forced the Amazon n to send her to the academy.


    She was no pompous young miss either. She was an Alpha, yet she disyed no arrogance before betas like Ophelia and Kiara. Eleanor liked her character.


    The way she spoke of fighting a jaguar revealed her fighting prowess. Her family must have confidence at least in her skills... that was why they had agreed to send her to the academy. Still, Eleanor reasoned, there must be another member of her n here as well.


    Eleanor asked, "There should be another member from your n in the academy, correct?"


    Ma¨ªra replied, "Yes. My mother sent my aunt Jaciara Moara with me. Believe me, her belly is full of negativity. Ma¨ªra don¡¯t do this, Ma¨ªra you can¡¯t do that... she mostly stops me from doing everything. Luckily, her room is far from mine, in the front wing. If I could join your circle, I could do whatever you do with you. She wouldn¡¯t be able to restrict me. If you ept me as your friend, I can help you in a fight. I am the best fighter of my n."


    Eleanor almostughed aloud, but she restrained herself and replied seriously, "Very well. We ept you into our circle. But you will only fight when we ask you to. Understand?"


    Behind Ma¨ªra, both Kiara and Ophelia were smirking. Ma¨ªra, however, answered with the same seriousness, "I understand. Then let us go to the dining hall together. If I amte, Aunt Jaciara will nag me to death."


    "Alright," Eleanor said as she opened her wardrobe and pulled out her robe. She walked to the table, closed theptop lid, straightened the bedcover, then opened the door and stepped out. Kiara, Ophelia, and Ma¨ªra followed close behind.


    "Miss, you are here! I was knocking at your door and thought you were asleep. There is no phone in this ce, otherwise I would have called you. Hurry... we must go to the dining hall." A bronze-skinned woman, looking to be in herte thirties, eximed from beside Ma¨ªra¡¯s room. Her bosom strained against her robe, and she exuded a mature charm, though her face bore a trace of anxiety as she looked directly at Ma¨ªra.


    Ma¨ªra flinched at the sight of her. "Aunt Jaciara, I am notte. I was only going to the dining hall with my friends. Let me introduce you. This is Eleanor, this is Kiara, and she is Ophelia. We met earlier and became good friends. They are werewolves, like me."


    She gave her aunt a triumphant smile, proud of having made friends so quickly in the academy... only to see Jaciara ce a hand over her chest and bow.


    "Miss Raynor, it is an honour to meet you. Please forgive us if my young miss has in any way offended you."


    Her tone was so fearful that it puzzled Ma¨ªra. She nced between her submissive aunt and Eleanor, whom she had just met. Atst her eyes settled on Eleanor, and she asked hesitantly, "Are you some sort of big shot?"


    Eleanor¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change in the slightest. With the same deadpan calm, she replied, "Nah! I am just a simple werewolf. I may be an Alpha, but you are far stronger than me."


    She then looked at the bowing woman. "Miss Jaciara Moara, do not trouble yourself. Please rise. We were only bing acquainted. Although Ma¨ªra is young, she is strong, and I like her. We are now friends. You need not worry. We are on our way to the dining hall... you may join us if you wish."


    She turned her gaze to the still-confused girl. "Ma¨ªra, let¡¯s go. We have little time left."


    Eleanor began walking, with Kiara and Ophelia following behind, smirking. Ma¨ªra trailed after them and shouted back, "Aunt Jaciara, don¡¯t just stand there. Let¡¯s go."


    They all descended the stairs at a measured pace. Following the group, Jaciara¡¯s mind boiled with thoughts.


    "Eleanor Raynor... and Miss... ended up in adjacent rooms. Knowing our Miss, she has never nced at intelligence reports about other ns. She dislikes reading anything that isn¡¯t about fighting. She has no idea whom she is befriending. If she had ever read those reports... she would not dare to befriend her. Eleanor Raynor was used of killing countless people, both human and werewolf alike. My Miss may be a good fighter and assassin, but she has no experience killing either humans or werewolves. She has only in vicious beasts. Perhaps Miss Raynor saw how na?ve she is, and took her under her wing. That seems the most likely. I must tread carefully. If, by this fateful encounter, the two of them truly be friends, it will serve them both well when they one day take charge of their respective families. Better that I keep my mouth shut and follow the course Miss Raynor sets. I will only intervene if my Miss finds herself at a disadvantage."


    Having resolved her inner unease, she smiled inwardly, fixed her gaze upon the two most significant young figures of the werewolfmunity, and followed them steadily.


    ***


    When Eleanor stepped through the giant doors of the dining hall, her eyes widened at the majesty that unfolded within. The space was vast... a cathedral of brick and stone transformed into a hall of order and light. The ceiling arched high above, its beams ribbed like the vaults of an ancient temple, and from them hung great chandeliers that glowed with a steady brilliance, casting a golden sheen across the room.


    Thirty long tables stretched across the marble floor, each carved from wless bs of white stone that gleamed like frozen rivers. They were arranged with perfect symmetry in three rows, ten tables to each, their surfaces lined with polished wooden chairs. Each chair was finely wrought, its back carved in flowing patterns that mirrored vines and mes, embracing the tables in an orderly fashion... four to a side, with one at each head. The symmetry was so precise it gave the entire hall the feeling of a grand orchestration, as though even stillness were a kind of music.


    At the far end of the hall, a wide stage rose slightly above the floor. Upon it, a single long table presided like a throne. Behind it stood twelve high-backed chairs, arranged in solemn rank, waiting for those who would watch over the cadets. Even from where she stood, Eleanor could see the gleam of porcin set neatly upon the high table, as though prepared for a feast that would judge as much as it celebrated.


    She walked forward, the sound of her steps softened by the marble beneath, and remembered what she read in the guidebook... every cadet had an assigned ce, their cadet numbers stamped upon the backs of their chairs. The front tables were for the cadets, while the rest of the hall would remain empty except during banquets and great gatherings, when staff and professors joined the feast.


    Already, many cadets had found their seats. Eleanor paused at table ten, where her cadet number was written on a chair¡¯s back. She saw Ma¨ªra¡¯s seat was just beside hers. Ma¨ªra beamed at the arrangement and slid happily into the chair beside her. Eleanor looked around to confirm that her otherpanions had also settled in their assigned ces.


    From the beginning, she felt something was different in this dining hall. Her gaze wandered across the room, and she quickly identified the source of her unease. This was not merely a gathering of students, but a congress of races... a tapestry of the world stitched together under one roof. Although everyone appeared in human form, she could sense the true nature of each cadet. Werewolves, vampires, dragons, fairies, werecats, merfolk, naga, kitsune, and banshees... all sat on their designated chairs peacefully, indifferent to who sat beside them. And among them, scattered like sparks among embers, were a few humans... fragile in body byparison, yet each burning with a different kind of determination.


    Suddenly, a thought struck her. In this term of cadets, werewolves were the most numerous. Almost one fourth of the present cadets were from the werewolf race. "There must have been some arrangement between the king of werewolves and the academy authorities. That¡¯s why we are all forced to join this term. Especially the young n heads of the ten great ns," she thought.


    Sitting in her chair, her mind wandered. "There are five young n heads who should be joining this term. I¡¯ve already found one. Let¡¯s see how the others from the Kuroda, Ahmose, and Graventhal ns are faring in the academy..."


    At that moment, the heavy footsteps of military boots echoed from the direction of the entrance. Every eye instinctively turned toward the door. A man d in a ck uniform, like the protectors of the academy, strode toward the stage at the front. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and exuded amanding presence that silenced the chatter of the cadets instantly. Behind him followed five others... two in protectors¡¯ uniforms and three in white robes.

 Chapter 219: General Maximilian Veers

    <h4>Chapter 219: General Maximilian Veers</h4>


    On the high table, the middle-aged man in a ck uniform looked down at the cadets seated below. Four golden stars gleamed on each epaulette, while a ming red heart was disyed on the cor tabs. He was clean-shaven, with a sharp jawline, pale skin flushed with a faint redness, and long, reddish-white hair flowing behind his neck. A powerful aura seemed to radiate from him, pressing upon all around.


    "Fire Dragon," Eleanor whispered under her breath.


    Two protectors stood to his right and three officials to his left. His piercing gaze swept across the entire dining hall, and for a moment it seemed as though everyone forgot how to breathe.


    Then the man spoke. His voice boomed and echoed through the hall. "I am General Maximilian Veers,manding officer of the Academy¡¯s security force. I will be overseeing your discipline this term. I am also the officer in charge of this dining hall. We shall be seeing one another a lot."


    He paused before continuing. "On my right stand Colonel Richard Sharpe and Colonel Rudolph George. They will be in direct contact with you. Their temporary office will be located on the ground floor of your dormitory, and you may reach them at any time."


    Turning his head slightly, he gestured to the three officials in white robes. "On my left are Dr. Simin Meydani, Dr. Manuel Vicorta, and Dr. n Aragon. They are responsible for providing your meals throughout the term. Their offices are adjacent to the kitchen here, essible from outside. Any requests orints regarding food are to be directed to them."


    The hundred or so cadets studied the newly introduced officials in silence, trying to imprint their faces in memory. After a measured pause, General Veers resumed, his voice carrying effortlessly to the farthest corners of the hall... resonant, controlled, the voice of a man forged inmand.


    "Cadets," he said, "this hall is more than a ce to eat. It is a ce of order, of dignity, of representation. Here you do not dine as individuals, but as cadets... as representatives of your race, and as members of this Academy."


    He let the words settle before pressing on. "You will sit as instructed, in your assigned seat at your assigned table. Numbers are given to eliminate chaos... learn them, respect them. You will not lift so much as a fork until the highest-ranking officer has begun their meal. When the meal begins, you will not rush. You need not fear missing any dish; in this Academy, food is provided in exact proportion to the number of cadets at each table. Should you encounter any shortage, raise your hand and a server will attend to you at once. You will have thirty minutes for each of the three main meals, and ten minutes for each of the two snack times. Conduct yourselves with restraint, with precision, and with decorum."


    At a signal from his gloved hand, a projection shimmered into being above his head. A pair of stewards stepped forward to demonstrate,ying down tes and cutlery with perfect precision. The General moved aside, indicating the disy behind him.


    "Observe," hemanded. "The utensils are ced for reason, not ornament. You will use them in sequence, beginning from the outside and working inward as courses are served. A fork is not a weapon, a knife or a toy. Misconduct will be punished immediately."


    His words were clipped but never harsh; it was the voice of a man for whom discipline was anguage, and etiquette its dialect.


    When the projection faded, the General returned to his former ce, hands sped, eyes fixed upon the cadets. "You will speak only in low tones at the table... never shouting across the hall. If you wish to address someone at a distance, you will wait until after the meal. You will not leave your seat without permission. When addressed by a superior, you will rise and answer clearly. Respect in this hall reflects respect beyond it. If you cannot govern your tongue and manner here, you will not govern your will in life."


    He allowed the silence to settle like a weight before concluding, with a curt nod, "I will be observing you from here. So, cadets... behave. Whether you are rewarded or punished depends entirely on you. Dr. Simin Meydani, the floor is yours."


    General Maximilian Veers lowered himself onto the central chair at the high table. Dr. Simin Meydani remained standing while the others took their seats.


    As if on cue, servers entered in silence, bearing bowls and trays heaped with food. They ced the dishes at the centre of each table and withdrew, only to return momentster with more. Within minutes the tables wereden with a vast array of dishes, the servers departing as quietly as they hade.


    Dr. Meydani drew a deep breath and spoke in a solemn voice, "We give thanks to Lord Yggdrasil, root and crown of Midgard, whose branches shield us from harm and whose roots bind us to peace. Through His strength we endure, through His shelter we prosper, and through His wisdom we glimpse a brighter tomorrow. With gratitude in our hearts and discipline in our hands, we begin this meal together."


    He then took his seat. The General and the officials at the high table began their meal in unison, and at that signal the cadets followed.


    Soon, the hall filled with the faint murmur of hushed voices and the delicate clink of cutlery. The food was exquisite... worthy of surpassing even the most decorated Michelin-starred chefs... and the cadets, despite their restraint, ate with undisguised eagerness.


    Barely five minutes passed before the General¡¯s voice cut through the air. "Cadet 622... minus five points for speaking loudly at the table. Cadet 635... minus ten points for using hands instead of utensils. Cadet 615... minus five points for shouting at a server."


    Every head turned instinctively towards him. He was now standing, hands sped behind his back, posture rigid as a de. The hall fell into immediate silence. Only the faint scraping of cutlery remained... and even that seemed subdued. The deductions continued, sharp and relentless, though gradually they grew fewer until, after twenty minutes, they ceased altogether.


    When the allotted thirty minutes had passed, the General spoke again. "Those who obeyed the instructions and incurred no punishment will be awarded ten points. Remember this lesson well. I will return to this hall whenever I choose, and on those asions the penalties will be far harsher."


    Dr. Meydani rose, announcing the end of dinner. The five officials filed out, following in the General¡¯s wake.


    Only once they had departed did the cadets rise from their seats. No one dared whisper. Intimidation clung to the air like a heavy cloak.


    Outside the hall, Eleanor regrouped with herpanions, including the two members of the Amazon n. Nora reported that Eleanor had been granted ten points. At Eleanor¡¯s urging, the others checked and found the same. Relieved, the group hurried back to their rooms. Before parting, Eleanor reminded them to finish the guidebook before sleep... it had already helped them to avoid punishment once, and might do so again.


    ***


    Early the next morning, Eleanor was woken by the shrill sound of thepulsory rm. She knew it was half-past five, and with assembly on the parade ground at six, she needed to hurry.


    She went to the bathroom, washed, tied her hair back into a ponytail, and dressed in the green tracksuit prescribed for morning parade. The previous night, after returning from the dining hall, she had discovered a neatly folded stack of clothingid out on her bed. On trying them, she had found every piece fitted her perfectly... even the undergarments, which clung to her like a second skin.


    The tracksuit came with a hood, which she drew over her head before leaving her room. Hearing movement in Maira¡¯s room, she sensed the young girl was also preparing, but Eleanor did not wait; she went straight down the stairs.


    The parade groundy just across the road from the dormitory. By the time she arrived, several cadets were already standing in three lines. Five middle-aged men in ck tracksuits were moving along the rows, correcting stances and asking to call themselves sergeants. At the head of the ground, Eleanor spotted a familiar figure standing apart, observing the cadets... Colonel Richard Sharpe, also d in ck, identical to the sergeants¡¯ wear.


    Once the flow of cadets from the dormitory had ceased, the sergeants checked their watches, adjusted the lines one final time, and then formed an even row of their own in front of the cadets. The central sergeant marched forward to Colonel Sharpe, saluted, and reported that all were present.


    Receiving permission, he turned smartly back, faced the cadets, and shouted, "Cadets! The sergeants will lead you on a run around the track. The Academy¡¯s running track measures two kilometres per round. Today, you willplete six kilometres. You are to keep your lines intact. Anyone who breaks formation will be punished. Should you fall ill, inform the sergeant beside you. Do not worry... the Academy healers will attend immediately. The infirmary is located beside the track."


    With that, he pivoted, jogged towards the roadside end of the line, and set the contingent in motion. The cadets began to run, three lines moving as one, running shoes striking the ground in measured rhythm.

 Chapter 220: All hail Lord Yggdrasil!

    <h4>Chapter 220: All hail Lord Yggdrasil!</h4>


    After breakfast, all the cadets assembled in the za before the academy building. They wore their full uniforms with green robes draped over them. The za was paved with exquisitely patterned tiles, the design resembling beautiful runes etched in stone. Guided by sergeants, the cadets formed the same three lines as earlier, facing a five-storey building of red brick. A broad staircase rose before them, leading directly to the first floor. At its top was a wide tform, like a grand ceremonial entrance to the academy building.


    From within the academy building, the principal emerged. d in a golden robe, he stepped onto the tform with measured pace. He was a tall man, well over six feet, broad of frame despite his age. A long white beard covered most of his face, and equally long white hair fell to his shoulders, lending him an almost ethereal countenance. Yet his presence was anything but gentle... an invisible weight pressed against the soul of everyone present, even from several metres below.


    More than thirty professors, healers, and staff followed him, taking their ce behind. They wore robes of indigo, teal, and white respectively. Though their presence paled beside that of the principal, Eleanor could sense they too possessed formidable strength.


    The moment the principal appeared, the sergeants gave him a military salute. Among the cadets, some mirrored the gesture, others did not. The guidebook had made the custom clear... when encountering the principal, cadets were to continue their current task if one was assigned; otherwise they were to stand respectfully until he passed. Only when summoned directly were they to salute. The divided reaction reflected this rule.


    The principal took no notice of it. His gaze swept across the rows of cadets before he spoke, his voice deep andmanding.


    "I am Professor Aurelius Halveth Draconis, your principal. Once again, the time hase for a new generation of cadets to begin their primary term." He smiled faintly as he continued, "Ascendance Academy of Midgard has stood for more than a thousand years. Since its founding, it has witnessed the rise of countless young ascendants."


    The cadets listened in silence, as though entranced.


    "I will not burden you with a long speech," he went on. "Instead, I shall wee you to the academy. May these two months of training, learning, and adaptation forge you into ascendants who will bring honour to this Academy."


    A roar of apuse burst from the za, the cadets cheering with thunderous voices. Professor Aurelius raised his arms, and at once the noise ceased.


    "As primary-term cadets," he dered, "you begin your path within these walls. But remember... study here is not only cultivation, not only strength, techniques, or artefacts. True strength is not merely power... it is the will that arises from the heart. That is what makes one ascendant greater than the rest."


    He raised his voice, resonant and clear. "Though the paths of cultivation diverge, all roads lead to Lord Yggdrasil. The sacred gift granted to you on the day of your birth, by the Great World Tree of Positivity, shall one day usher in prosperity. It is for this purpose that Ascendance Academy of Midgard was founded."


    His tone softened slightly, though it lost none of its gravity. "So... fail, if you must. Make mistakes. Feel helpless. These are parts of learning. But I promise you this... three months from now, when you walk out of these doors, you will not be the same. You will leave as a stronger, better version of yourselves."


    Then, Professor Aurelius raised his right hand and pointed his index finger towards the sky. One by one, the professors behind him did the same. The healers, officials, and sergeants followed, each arm lifting until the entire assembly mirrored the gesture.


    "May Midgard live forever!" Professor Aurelius thundered. "All hail Lord Yggdrasil!"


    "All hail Lord Yggdrasil!" came the answering cry, the za shaking as professors, staff, sergeants, and cadets roared as one.


    ***


    It was arge hall filled with capsules that resembled advanced VR pods. Under the sergeants¡¯ direction, all one hundred cadets assembled here, on the ground floor of the academy building, for their initiation ceremony. ording to the guidebook, this was to be the firstpetition between cadets... a trial designed to rank them early. Professors from the various departments would evaluate performance and extend invitations to those they deemed worthy. A cadet might be chosen by several departments, or none at all; ultimately, the choice of departments would rest with the cadet.


    The ranking itself carried reward... points granted to the top ten performers. Yet the guidebook had warned that each year the professors designed a different trial, its nature never revealed in advance.


    The chief sergeant stepped to the front of the hall. His voice rang out, sharp and authoritative, "Each cadet will select a capsule. Enter when instructed."


    One by one, the cadets approached. Eleanor walked up to the nearest capsule, following the sergeant¡¯s words. On its surface was a round red button. She pressed it, and a holographic disy flickered to life above the pod. Raising her wrist, she touched the device on her wrist to the projection. A clear tone chimed in response.


    "Wee, Cadet 10156659. Please enter the space capsule," intoned a mechanical voice as the lid hissed open, revealing the interior. The inside was soft, padded, and shaped to cradle the body, with a semi-circr hollow prepared for the head.


    Eleanory down. At once, the lid closed, sealing her in darkness. A second padded arc descended gently, enclosing her head entirely. The ckness was absolute... until, without warning, a ze of white light struck her eyes. She squinted, blinking for her vision to adjust.


    When it cleared, she found herself standing in a forest. Towering trees rose on all sides, their trunks stretching high into a sky that glowed red instead of blue. The air was unnervingly still... no rustle of leaves, no birdsong, only silence pressing down. The ground beneath her boots was hard and rocky. She nced down... her academy uniform remained intact, as though she had stepped here directly from the hall.


    "It feels like I¡¯ve been sent into another dimension... or another world altogether," she thought. "The trees block my sight... perfect ground for an ambush. I¡¯d better prepare before anything happens. First, I should find a clearing."


    She took a few careful steps, testing her bnce, then struck at the air with quick punches to gauge her strength.


    At that moment, a voice resounded within her head, "You are currently in the tropical forest of Molgrath. A group of monsters has captured the Midgard stronghold here and turned it into their frontier. You and yourpanions have been teleported into this forest with the mission of eliminating the monsters and reiming thend. You must cross the river, enter enemy territory, and y the Troll King to recapture the stronghold. You may perform this mission alone or form a team at any time. Remember... points are divided equally among all team members."


    As the voice faded, a translucent screen appeared in the corner of her vision:


    [Status]


    Primary Objective: Kill the Troll King and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team Members: 1


    Points: 0


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    Eleanormanded the screen away, and it vanished instantly. Alone in the red-sky forest, she closed her eyes and extended her spiritual sense. Relief washed over her... her power was functioning normally here. Yet her sweep revealed no trace of another cadet nearby.


    Then, faintly, she caught it... the sound of running water, trickling in the distance.


    Eleanor followed the sound of water, each step bringing it closer. After nearly ten minutes, she could hear it with her ordinary senses. But just as she advanced, she froze, every nerve on edge.


    From her right came the noise ofbat... shouts, shrieks, and the sh of struggle. Cautiously, she veered towards it, slipping from bush to bush, keeping low and never exposing herself for long.


    After two minutes of careful advance, the scene opened before her. A cadet was under siege... more than twenty goblins swarming her at once. Eleanor crept nearer, positioning herself behind a boulder for a clear view, yet remaining unseen.


    The cadet fought with desperate resolve, wielding a wooden stick, striking down goblins whenever she could. But numbers weighed against her. The creatures attacked in turns, rushing her in small groups so that none absorbed too much damage, while she umted cuts and bruises with every exchange. Surrounded on all sides, she could not rest, her defences thinning. At this rate, she would fall.


    Then the cadet turned to intercept a sudden strike, and Eleanor caught sight of her face. It was Ma¨ªra... the young miss of the Amazon n.


    Eleanor hesitated. Originally, she had intended only to watch, to study the goblins¡¯ fighting patterns from a safe distance. But with an acquaintance caught in the fray, her resolve wavered.


    "She¡¯s not on the brink of defeat yet. Let her treat it as training. These creatures are hardly the strongest. I¡¯ll wait and observe their style a little longer," Eleanor reasoned, holding her ground.


    The goblins pressed their advantage with crude savagery. Some lunged for Ma¨ªra¡¯s legs to drag her down; others tried to rake ws across her back when her guard was turned. They bit, wed, hurled stones, even flung dirt to blind her. Their shrillughter and mocking cries echoed through the forest as they harried her.


    Ma¨ªra fought back with fierce determination. She dodged, parried, blocked. Three goblins alreadyy dead at her feet. But she was tiring, breath ragged, each strike slower than thest.


    Suddenly, Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed. Arger goblin broke through the throng behind Ma¨ªra, hefting a boulder above its head. At that instant, Ma¨ªra was pinned by three attackers to her front... she would never turn in time. Eleanor could see the arc the stone would take, where it would strike, how her skull would shatter...


    She exhaled sharply and let her instincts surge. She activated Mind eleration. The world slowed to rity. She traced the rock¡¯s trajectory as if it hung in the air.


    Without dy, she activated her bloodline power, Overdrive! Her bloodline ignited, her body primed for violence.


    Passive instincts red alive... Bloodlust Instinct, Tactical Foresight, Killing Precision, Predator¡¯s Awareness... weaving together in seamless harmony.


    Snatching a broken branch from the ground, she hurled it with uncanny uracy. It struck the goblin¡¯s hand. The rock did not fall, but the blow spoiled its aim, sending it staggering aside.


    By the time the horde registered the disruption, Eleanor was upon them.


    Her assault was merciless. She had already dissected their fighting style, remembered their weaknesses. With foresight guiding every move, she struck only at killing points... throat, temple, sr plexus, the nape of the neck. One strike, one corpse. She knew well that each second of bloodline use would lengthen her recovery, so every blow had to count.


    Ma¨ªra, locked in a desperate struggle with another goblin, felt the sudden shift. The moment she killed her opponent and turned... the battle was over. Every gobliny dead at her feet.

 Chapter 221: Mind Reaver, Overdrive

    <h4>Chapter 221: Mind Reaver, Overdrive</h4>


    In a dimly lit conference room, more than fifty professors sat in silence, their attention fixed on the giant screen dominating the far wall. The disy was divided into a hundred panes, each showing a live feed of an individual cadet.


    The professors from the Core Magic Department and the Combat Department leaned forward with particr eagerness, their eyes gleaming. This year, it was the Combat Department that had crafted the initiation trial, and they watched with pride as their carefully woven scenario unfolded.


    The Department of Elemental Magic was itself vast, consisting of several schools: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Ice, Lightning, Light, and Shadow. The Combat Department, by contrast, was unified, epassing every martial path. Whether a cadet chose Weapon Mastery or Unarmed Combat, they would find mentors here, and receive Combat Arts honed through centuries of discipline.


    Beyond these two pirsy other specialised departments: Alchemy, Forging, Cultivation Paths, Healing Arts, Formation Arrays, and Wilderness Survival... each ready to im the most promising students as their own.


    Now, all eyes were locked upon the screens. The cadets had just been dropped into the simted forest, unaware of the observers studying their every move. They believed only that this was a test of strength, a contest for points and ranking. The truth... that their choices and instincts were being dissected by dozens of sharp-eyed professors... who were hidden from them, so that their unguarded selves might emerge.


    "Look at screen seven," Professor Drake Emberfall eximed, leaning forward with excitement. "That cadet may im the first kill."


    At once, the room¡¯s focus shifted. On screen seven, a figure unleashed a torrent of me. Two goblins screamed as they were incinerated, copsing into ckened ash.


    On the side of the main disy, a smaller screen lit up: the ranking board. Numbers began to flicker into ce. At the very top, position one, appeared Cadet 10156618... with twenty points glowing beside the name.


    Soon, several of the screens showed small-scale skirmishes. Goblins fell shrieking to the ground, some fled into the forest, while others struck back with cunning ambushes that left cadets bleeding or in. The ranking board quickly filled with names. At the top stood a lightning-user, his tally already climbing to eighty points.


    The disy shifted, each frame erging slightly as the number of survivors dwindled. Only seventy cadets remained. On one screen, a terrified girl could be seen fleeing through the trees, pursued by a snarling pack of goblins. At first, her agility saved her; she darted and twisted, slipping past every wed swipe from behind. Yet she had failed to realise the goblins were calling more of their kin as they chased.


    Professor Yara Anah¨ª Seraphina, head of the Water School, pressed her lips together in quiet disapproval. Her eyes remained fixed on the fleeing girl on screen... Ma¨ªra of the Amazon n. Yara herself had once belonged to that same n of werewolves, and she wanted to see how the next generation¡¯s heir would fare.


    As expected, Ma¨ªra¡¯s reckless sprint ended in disaster. After scarcely a hundred metres she found herself surrounded, hemmed in by a swelling tide of goblins. They circled her in their usual yful cruelty, testing her defences, wearing her down beforemitting to a kill. Ma¨ªrashed out with everything she had... her raw physical strength, the surging water-blessed power of her bloodline, the burst-speed of her limbs, and the freehandbat she had drilled since childhood. Several goblinsy dead at her feet. But she was tiring fast, her breathing ragged as the circle closed tighter.


    Yara¡¯s gaze flicked to the neighbouring screen and her brow lifted. Another cadet had arrived at the edge of the fight. If that girl joined in, Ma¨ªra might stand a chance. But the momentary hope faded as Yara watched the neer crouch low behind a boulder, making no move to intervene... merely observing, cold-eyed, as Ma¨ªra fought for her life.


    The professor exhaled sharply through her nose. "So be it. If I do not force her into Combat ss, she may not return alive from Vanaheim," she thought grimly.


    Then, from the corner of her vision, she saw sudden movement. The hidden cadet emerged, her body partially transformed, and in an instant the fight turned into a blur. She slipped from goblin to goblin like a phantom, striking once, twice, never missing. Bodies crumpled where she passed. By the time Ma¨ªra finished grappling her own opponent and turned, every other gobliny dead upon the forest floor.


    Professor Yara¡¯s eyes widened at the sudden intervention. She whispered under her breath, almost in awe, "Tactical Foresight... Killing Precision... Overdrive... The Raynor n has birthed another monster."


    At that moment, the ranking board convulsed with a sudden shift. Every professor in the hall jolted upright. Cadet 10156659 had leapt from outside the standings to first ce... her score surging to one hundred and seventy points, while the second ce still lingered at eighty. The entire list reshuffled, every name disced to make room for her.


    "Is the board malfunctioning?" one professor blurted.


    "Impossible. The Department of Technology inspected every system before the ceremony began," another countered.


    "Then how in the gods¡¯ names did a cadet amass points so quickly? Did anyone see what happened?"


    Professor Yara¡¯s voice cut through the growing noise. "Everyone. Screen sixty-two."


    Dozens of eyes swung towards the feed. There Eleanor stood, looking oddly helpless, while Ma¨ªra clung to her like a frightened ko. Around themy the proof... corpses strewn in heaps, a battlefield of goblin ughter.


    "But h... how?" stammered the professor seated beside Yara, voicing the very question running through every mind in the hall.


    "Mind Reaver, Overdrive," Yara said simply.


    The silence that followed was heavy. They all understood. Every one of them was a schr, a master of their craft, and those two words alone told them more than enough.


    On the screen, Eleanor began dragging Ma¨ªra away from the carnage. The girl still clung to her, refusing to let go.


    ***


    "If you don¡¯t want to die early, let go of me. You¡¯re obstructing my movements. Monsters could attack at any time," Eleanor said firmly.


    Ma¨ªra understood at once and released her grip. Eleanor adjusted her robe, scanning the surroundings for a suitable weapon.


    They stood now on slightly elevated ground, more than a hundred metres from the battlefield they had just left behind. The faint sound of water was still guiding Eleanor forward, and she sensed they were close. She decided to take some rest... her bloodline power needed to cool down. Better to prepare now for the worst than regretter.


    "I¡¯ve got fifty points! I¡¯m ranked eighteenth. Yay..." Ma¨ªra eximed suddenly.


    "Hush. Keep quiet... there might be monsters nearby," Eleanor cautioned sharply.


    "Alright, alright," Ma¨ªra whispered back, raising her hands in surrender.


    Her words, however, reminded Eleanor of something. It was time to check her own score. "Nora, what¡¯s my score?" she asked silently.


    "Oh, you finally remembered me," Nora replied, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "I was wondering when you¡¯d need me. Let¡¯s take a look, shall we?"


    A screen flickered to life at the corner of Eleanor¡¯s vision:


    [Status]


    Primary Objective: Kill the troll king and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team Members: 1


    Points: 170 (Rank-1)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    "So I¡¯m in first ce... That¡¯s bad. I don¡¯t need to stand out too much. Ranking in the top ten is fine, but if I stay on top, the young masters will start resenting me... and might even turn against me. I¡¯ll have to slow down and let others get ahead," she thought grimly.


    "Why not add a teammate and split the points?" Nora suggested smoothly. "That way, your score won¡¯t look as threatening, and you¡¯ll stillplete your mission."


    "Good idea. Let¡¯s add Ma¨ªra first."


    Before she could say more, the status screen shifted.


    [Add Team Members: Recite Cadet Number]


    "Ma¨ªra, what¡¯s your cadet number?" Eleanor asked aloud.


    "Six-six-zero."


    "Add six-six-zero as my team member," Eleanormanded in her mind.


    At once, a new notification appeared in front of Ma¨ªra.


    [Cadet 10156659 wants to add you as a team member. Do you ept? Yes/No]


    Without hesitation, she epted.


    "We¡¯re a team now. Thanks for inviting me!" Ma¨ªra said, her voice bubbling with excitement.


    "Mm." Eleanor nodded curtly, then opened the score status once more:


    [Status]


    Primary Objective: Kill the troll king and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team Members: 2


    Points: 170 (Rank-1)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    After dismissing the disy, Eleanor closed her eyes. "Recover your strength, Ma¨ªra. We¡¯ll rest for five minutes. The monsters ahead will be stronger... I¡¯d wager far stronger. We need to be at our peak if we want to finish the mission."


    Ma¨ªra nodded, settling cross-legged to meditate and restore her energy. Eleanor did the same, though even as her breathing slowed, her spiritual sense spread outward like an invisible, scouring the forest for the faintest sign of an approaching threat.

 Chapter 222: Crossing the River

    <h4>Chapter 222: Crossing the River</h4>


    Eleanor and Ma¨ªra set off once their strength had returned. No goblins or any other monsters disturbed them during their meditation, nor along the quiet march towards the water source.


    Yet when they finally arrived, disappointment struck them both.


    "This isn¡¯t a river," Ma¨ªra said tly. She pointed towards a distant cascade. "The water¡¯s justing down from that waterfall and spreading across thend. Should we cross the stream and check the other side?"


    Eleanor paused, studying the flow. "No. We follow the water. I think this trickle distracted us. If we stay with it, it should lead us to the river."


    They pressed on, following the narrow stream. Luck remained with them... not a single monster barred their way.


    After a long walk, they reached a true river atst. Its waters moved with calm persistence, not a raging torrent but a steady, single-direction flow. It was vast, easily a kilometre wide to the naked eye, its surface clear as crystal. No mud, no silt, nothing to obscure the gentle ripples.


    Peering into its depths, Eleanor saw schools of small fish driftingzily, their bodies glinting in many colours. Beautiful, and seemed harmless.


    In the distance, a cluster of green-robed cadets caught her eye. Without hesitation, she steered towards them to gather some information.


    "Eleanor!" a voice rang out. Kiara rushed forward, face alight with relief. "Thank the goddess you¡¯re here!"


    Her shout drew the attention of the others, among whom was Jaciara Moara. The moment she saw Ma¨ªra at Eleanor¡¯s side, she hurried over.


    "Miss, are you alright?" Jaciara asked anxiously.


    "I¡¯m fine. Nothing happened," Ma¨ªra replied as though the earlier battle had been nothing more than a stroll.


    From their gathering, Eleanor learned the situation. Dragons, Fairies, and Banshees had already crossed by flying. Those left behind were hesitant... swimming had proven fatal. Several cadets who had attempted it were ambushed by river monsters and eliminated. Now the rest lingered on the shore, debating strategies.


    "You¡¯re from the Amazon n," Eleanor said to Jaciara. "Do you have the ability to use water or ice?"


    "I do, Miss Raynor. But if I use my ability to build a path for us, I¡¯ll be defenceless. My control isn¡¯t strong enough to fight and maintain it at the same time."


    "Don¡¯t worry about fighting. Your task is to make the road. We¡¯ll circle around you and keep you safe," Eleanor assured her.


    Before Jaciara could reply, movement drew their attention. A vampire sprinted across the river¡¯s surface, feet skimming the water with unnatural speed. Crocodile-like monsters erupted from below, lunging with snapping jaws... but the vampire¡¯s swiftness and erratic trajectory outpaced them. The ambushes continued until he vanished onto the opposite shore.


    "It seems speed can beat them," Eleanor observed coolly. "They¡¯re slow, but there are many of them. If we go in as a single group, we¡¯ll attract the full swarm. But if every cadet here enters together, the pressure will be divided. Fewer monsters will target each of us, and the crossing will be easier."


    "Yes," Ma¨ªra agreed. "But we can fight. I can also use water to shape a path. Those things don¡¯t look that frightening."


    Eleanor¡¯s gaze hardened. "It isn¡¯t about how frightening they are. This is their territory... the water gives them a clear advantage. If we waste energy fighting head-on, we¡¯ll cross exhausted. And we still don¡¯t know what¡¯s waiting on the other side. We can¡¯t afford that risk."


    "Then what do we do?" Kiara asked anxiously.


    "We wait," Eleanor replied firmly. "The more cadets who enter the river, the more the monsters¡¯ attention will be divided."


    She paused, then frowned. "Has anyone seen Ophelia? I can¡¯t find her here."


    Jaciara shook her head. "I saw her at the beginning, when only a few cadets had gathered. But then... she vanished. I don¡¯t know what happened."


    Eleanor narrowed her eyes in thought. "She must have crossed already. If she used someone¡¯s shadow, no one would have noticed."


    "Thank you," Eleanor said aloud. "I trust she¡¯s fine."


    A few more cadets emerged from the forest and joined the waiting group. Humans, werewolves, vampires, kitsune, and werehyenas were all arguing, trying to persuade nagas and merfolk to use their water abilities to ferry others across. The discussion was growing heated.


    Eleanor, however, kept her small circle apart from the chaos. Their n was already clear.


    "Kiara," Eleanor said, "what¡¯s your cadet number? I want you in my team."


    The numbers were sewn into their robes, so Eleanor could have added her without asking. But she wanted Kiara to understand what was happening. Kiara gave her number aloud, and after a flicker of light in her eyes she had joined the team.


    Jaciara immediately spoke up. "Please, let me join as well."


    "Very well," Eleanor said. "That makes four of us. Jaciara will be responsible for creating the path. The rest of us will defend you. Whatever happens, you must not stop advancing."


    Her gaze fixed on Jaciara. "How exactly do you intend to make it?"


    "I can form a water tform beneath us," Jaciara exined. "It should slide forward across the river. But if a strong monster strikes and breaks it, we¡¯ll be thrown into the water. You¡¯ll have to hold them off."


    Eleanor¡¯s lips curved in a reassuring smile. "Then slide fast when the time, and don¡¯t look back. With me at the front and Kiara behind, Ma¨ªra by your side, no beast will reach you."


    At that moment a young man approached, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Erm... hello. I¡¯m Joshua Cordillera, from the Cordillera n of Philippines. I noticed you¡¯re not relying on the naga or merfolk... so I thought you must have your own n."


    He paused, giving a sheepish grin. "I¡¯ve some ability with water, though my control is poor. But I can fight. If you¡¯ll have me... as a fellow werewolf... I¡¯ll contribute."


    Eleanor studied him coolly. "Why us? Wouldn¡¯t you be safer in arger group? And if you can use water, why not fend for yourself?"


    Joshua¡¯s smile faded into seriousness. "Because they¡¯re too loose to be a team. The moment a real threat appears, they¡¯ll scatter. But you..." he nodded at her with quiet respect "you look like you mean what you say."


    Eleanor already recognised the name. She had seen it in her reports. Joshua Cordillera is a reputed sword master, though no de hung at his waist now. Still, he was worth noting.


    "Do you know any of us?" she asked.


    "I¡¯ve heard of you," he admitted. "Miss Raynor... Eleanor Raynor, the one everyone talks about. I don¡¯t know the others. Forgive me. I¡¯ve never followed society closely... I¡¯ve been busy with my training."


    "Then listen closely," Eleanor said. "This is a real team. We share our points. If you want in, give me your cadet number."


    He gave it without hesitation, and in a sh he too was part of the team.


    Their strategy was settled... Eleanor in the vanguard, Kiara guarding the rear, Joshua and Ma¨ªra covering the nks, while Jaciara concentrated solely on pushing the sliding tform across the water as swiftly as possible.


    Suddenly Ma¨ªra cried out, "Oh no! I¡¯ve dropped to thirty-first ce!"


    Eleanor ignored her exmation and quietly summoned her own status screen.


    [Status]


    Primary Objective: Kill the troll king and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team members: 5


    Points: 170 (Rank¨C4)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    Eleanor breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Three cadets had already surpassed her in the rankings. "Good. I don¡¯t want to be under the spotlight this early in academy life," she thought.


    "Don¡¯t concern yourself," she said calmly to her teammates. "Those rushing ahead will only draw stronger monsters and may die before long. If we stay alive until the end, all five of us will reach the top ten. Survival is our true goal."


    Before anyone could respond, the crowd of cadets by the river surged forward,unching their crossing all at once.


    The monsters didn¡¯t disappoint. The river boiled with movement as crocodilian monsters erupted from beneath the surface, snapping at legs and tearing at stragglers. A chaotic melee broke out across the water as dozens of cadets screamed, fought, or tried desperately to push onward.


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes narrowed. "They¡¯ll keep the monsters busy. It¡¯s time. Let¡¯s go."


    Her team moved as one. The moment they stepped onto Jaciara¡¯s tform, it felt strange underfoot... soft, pliant, almost like jelly... but it held. With her eyes screwed tight in concentration, Jaciara drove the tform forward.


    She shot the tform across the water like a dart, and the others encircled her to protect. For a few precious seconds, nothing stood in their way.


    Then two monsters burst from the front, jaws snapping wide. Eleanor¡¯s pupils sharpened as she activated her bloodline. She focused on her passive ability ¡¯Killing Precision¡¯, guiding her eyes straight to the weak points.


    She struck like lightning. Two punches, clean and decisive, cracked into the creatures¡¯ skulls. Both fell back into the water with sickening sshes. Eleanor immediately withdrew her bloodline, conserving her strength.


    But the respite was brief. A wave of monsters came at them from all sides, teeth shing, tails whipping.


    "Attack on eyes or the crown of the skull!" Eleanor barked, her voice cutting through the chaos. "If they rise, strike the belly. Avoid the scales, jaws, and tails... they¡¯ll break you if you¡¯re careless. Defend yourself!"


    Her teammates obeyed without hesitation. Joshua punched with raw ferocity, Ma¨ªra darted with bursts of speed, Kiara struck with quick precision, while Eleanor covered the front, her every blow perfectly ced.


    One after another, the monsters faltered and fell back beneath the water, leaving their corpses drifting.


    "Ha!" Ma¨ªra whooped. "I killed one! Thirty-two points! These things are worth far more than goblins."


    Joshua gave her a t look as he wiped monster blood from his hands. "You¡¯re mistaken. It¡¯s team points. I killed two, and I¡¯ve also received thirty-two."

 Chapter 223: A Failed Ambush

    <h4>Chapter 223: A Failed Ambush</h4>


    "Everyone, focus!" Eleanor¡¯s voice cut through the sh of water and snarls. "Points mean nothing if we don¡¯t survive. Jaciara... move faster!"


    The urgency in her tone jolted Ma¨ªra, Joshua, and Kiara. Their scattered minds snapped back into sharp focus. Fists, ws, and bursts of water met the river beasts again and again, until they stopped counting distance altogether. The world had narrowed to the press of monsters, the small tform beneath their boots, and the need to endure.


    Atst, the attacks thinned. When the river finally spat them onto the far bank, they staggered forward, battered, bruised, and soaked in blood. Their stamina faltered; every breath ragged. Though the enchanted academy robes dried the river water within minutes, they could do little to mend the cuts and bruises, especially the raw scratches across their hands.


    The team dragged themselves to a safe distance from the shoreline and copsed in the grass. Silence reigned for several minutes as each caught what breath they could.


    Then Eleanor¡¯s eyes snapped open. Her senses prickled. Someone was approaching... fast. "Everyone, alert!" she ordered, already on her feet. "Someone ising along the shoreline."


    Everyone took a battle stance, ws bared, breath held. Then a familiar ck wolf came into view.


    "Stand down," Eleanor said firmly, lowering her stance. "It¡¯s Ophelia."


    Relief washed over the others. They eased back down, still weary but no longer tense. The wolf slowed, paws thudding against the earth, before shifting into her human form.


    "Ma¡¯am, are you okay?" Ophelia asked at once, hurrying towards her.


    "I¡¯m fine," Eleanor answered. "But why were you in your wolf form?"


    Ophelia inclined her head. "You¡¯ve moved more than a kilometre from the main troops. I crossed the river early to gather intelligence, then returned to find you. When I couldn¡¯t see you among the cadets, I asked around. Some mentioned a smaller team drifting downstream. Wolf form was faster, so I turned and ran this direction." She said it all in one breath, chest heaving slightly.


    Eleanor nodded. "Understood. Take a moment to rest... we move only at peak condition. Ah, this is Joshua Cordillera, the newest member of our team." She gestured towards Joshua before focusing her mission screen. "I¡¯m sending you an invitation. ept it."


    Ophelia gave Joshua a polite nod, then epted Eleanor¡¯s invitation.


    The system flickered into Eleanor¡¯s sight:


    [Status]


    Primary Objective: Kill the Troll King and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team members: 6


    Points: 338 (Rank-5)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    With a thought, Eleanor dismissed the screen.


    "Nora. What is my current physical condition?" she asked in her mind.


    Nora¡¯s voice chimed immediately. "Your health is fully restored. Stamina will require eight more minutes to recover fully. Bloodline ability will require thirty-two minutes untilplete reset. Activating again before cooldown will cause adverse effects."


    Eleanor blinked, momentarily surprised. "When did you gain the ability to calcte my bloodline¡¯s condition?"


    "I didn¡¯t," Nora replied matter-of-factly. "I merely track your bloodline¡¯s use, recovery intervals, and the physical toll it takes. Calctions, nothing more."


    "I see..." Eleanor murmured. She inhaled deeply, then straightened her back. "Good. Then I¡¯ll need your report on my teammates. Their fighting prowess matters as much as mine... I¡¯ll need it to n ahead."


    "Jaciara didn¡¯t join the fight," Nora reported, her tone crisp. "Her control over water is good, but I can onlyment on the others. Joshua formed water des and wielded them as swords. He¡¯s highly proficient in closebat, and with a nearby water source he can project des at range. Ma¨ªra fights hand-to-hand, using short bursts of movement that look like instant teleportation, though they¡¯re not. She used a water shield defensively, but made no offensive use of the element. Kiara is a shooter, as my previous data suggested. In closebat she performed adequately, nothing more."


    "Thanks," Eleanor murmured, weighing the assessment. After a moment¡¯s thought, she addressed the group.


    "Joshua, you¡¯re a swordsman. Craft something from the wood around us toplement your style."


    Before Joshua could respond, Ophelia interjected, "There¡¯s an orc pack not far from here. They¡¯re armed with swords, shields, and bows. Crude weapons, but in our state, it will be more than enough for us. I scouted them from a distance."


    Eleanor exhaled, relief softening her features. "Good. Then we¡¯ll strike that pack first, take their weapons, and move on. If you think a makeshift de will help for now, create one... but we¡¯ll aim for steel soon enough." She paused, then turned to Ophelia. "How far did you go?"


    "Not far," Ophelia admitted. "The riverside is forested, and beyond that rises a mountain. I didn¡¯t climb, but there¡¯s a castle at its summit. That should be our destination. The dragons and fairies I saw earlier flew that way. This forest, however, is thick with orcs. They haven¡¯t been thinned out... yet."


    "Any trolls?" Eleanor pressed.


    Ophelia shook her head. "None. Likely inside the castle."


    Eleanor gave a slow nod. "Right. Team, listen. We have two objectives... kill the Troll King and reim the stronghold, and eliminate the monsters. The primary objective will hold the greater reward, but I believe each of us has a fair chance at it. Think carefully... cadets were allowed to go solo or form teams, with no cap on numbers. That means, theoretically, a single powerful fighter could clear the trial alone. If the Troll King were a one-off target, it would already have been in by those dragons... but we¡¯ve had no such notification. Which means the challenge is instance-based... everyone will have their own chance. If so, the key will be points. We¡¯ll need to amass enough through these orcs before reaching the summit.


    "Remember... points are divided among us. That includes the primary objective. So, we keep fighting, and we keep moving." She added.


    "Yey! Let¡¯s kick some orc ass!" Ma¨ªra cheered, pumping her fist.


    Eleanor gave her a patient look. "I like your enthusiasm. But don¡¯t let points distract you mid-battle."


    "That was one time," Ma¨ªra said with an awkward grin. "It won¡¯t happen again. By the way... I just received another hundred and sixty-eight points. Did everyone else?"


    "Yes," Jaciara confirmed. "The same here."


    Eleanor nodded. "Good. Then let¡¯s prepare. If we linger, others may clear the field before us."


    The group rose, following Ophelia as she guided them towards the orc encampment. With her shadow affinity, she was the perfect scout... silent, swift, and unseen.


    The pack had not moved from where she hadst seen them. The team took cover behind a boulder, a hundred metres out, while Ophelia slipped closer to observe.


    The sky above was still a dreadful red. Neither sun nor moon hung there, only a constant blood-hued glow. It was not night, nor day, but something in between. The light distorted everything, yet the orcs paid it no mind. They had lit a fire and sat gathered around it, their armour glinting in the crimson haze.


    Ophelia returned swiftly, crouching low. "Seven orcs. All warriors. Two are archers... thin, but seem agile. The rest carry swords or axes, some with shields. Their weapons are crude, but their size and strength make them formidable. One stood out... at it clothed differently, watching the others. He seemed smarter than the rest. Likely the leader."


    After gaining a clear picture of the pack, they resolved to encircle and strike simultaneously. Though outnumbered, the element of surprise was firmly in their favour.


    The team spread out, each with a target assigned. Ophelia¡¯s task was the most dangerous... eliminate the leader once the others engaged.


    Eleanor advanced with silent precision, keeping her body hidden behind tree trunks and thick bushes. A scattering of boulders dotted the clearing, but nonerge enough to conceal her. Ophelia remained in her shadow, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a killing blow.


    She had almost closed the distance... barely ten metres from the nearest orc, when a thunderous battle cry shattered the stillness. From somewhere behind her, a cadet roared and charged with reckless abandon.


    Every orc¡¯s head snapped in Eleanor¡¯s direction. Their guttural cries shook the air as they scrambled to their feet, weapons shing in the red glow.


    "Fuck! So much for the element of surprise. Curse my bloody luck," Eleanor hissed under her breath.


    There was no time to form a new n. The entire pack locked onto her as prey.


    A massive orc surged forward, axe raised high. Its footsteps made the earth tremble.


    With no choice, Eleanor triggered Overdrive. Her body blurred, narrowly avoiding the downward cleave. In the same motion, she rammed a sharpened branch she had carried into the creature¡¯s eye.


    The strikended, but imperfectly. The branch lodged deep in the socket, yet failed to reach the brain. Instead of copsing, the orc howled in unbridled fury, blood spraying as it staggered past her before wheeling back with murderous rage.


    Eleanor did not pause. Her bloodline was already active... hesitation would be fatal. She pivoted and drove her partially transformed fist into the throat of the pack leader.


    But the leader was quicker than expected. Anticipating the strike, it twisted aside, her blow ncing across its shoulder instead. The impact was like striking stone... her knuckles throbbed from the force.


    A hiss of air warned her. From behind the leader, two arrows whistled through the crimson haze. She dropped, rolling across the dirt, feeling the arrows slice past where her chest had been a heartbeat before.


    She came up crouched, breath sharp, eyes locked on the encroaching pack.


    The ambush was broken. Now it was a battle for survival.

 Chapter 224: Web of Terror

    <h4>Chapter 224: Web of Terror</h4>


    When they had nned the ambush, it had been six against seven. With the element of surprise and each member¡¯s abilities, it should have been manageable... perhaps even simple. They were supposed to dictate the flow of battle.


    But now the tables had turned. An unexpected outside interference had destroyed their initiative, leaving Eleanor under relentless assault. The orcs had seized control, and she was forced onto the defensive, reacting to every swing of their weapons rather than directing the fight.


    And yet, she held on. She had prepared herself for the possibility of chaos, and her bloodline power kept her standing against the onught.


    Still, the orcs were far stronger than she had anticipated... faster, tougher, and heavily armed. When the enraged one-eyed brute charged her again, its axe cleaving the air, she could only dodge desperately, blows raining from every side.


    The situation was slipping beyond her grasp.


    Then, atst, the others struck. With the orcs fixated on Eleanor, none of them noticed the rest of the team closing in. Shadows leapt from behind, des shing in the crimson light. Three orcs fell before they even realised they were under attack. Joshua and Maira immediately seized the fallen weapons, their hands closing around crude yet deadly iron swords. In that instant, the battle¡¯s rhythm shifted.


    The leader roared and turned on Kiara, pressing her back under a storm of heavy strikes. Eleanor, freed from the press of the others, found herself facing only the one-eyed orc. She sidestepped its wild swing and, with precision born of bloodline focus, drove her fist into the base of its skull. The impact sent it staggering forward before it crashed lifeless to the ground.


    Her eyes snapped to the leader. Kiara was struggling, her bow useless at such close range. Eleanor darted in from the nk, her fist mming against the leader¡¯s temple. But the blow nced off its thick skull, barely staggering it. The orc bared its tusks in grim satisfaction... until its eyes widened.


    Ophelia emerged from its shadow like a phantom. The moment the leader rxed, thinking Eleanor missed, a rusty short sword punched through the base of its skull and into the spine. The creature froze mid-breath, then copsed with a dull thud.


    Silence fell.


    Eleanor turned slowly, surveying the battlefield. The corpses of the remaining orcsy scattered, their blood steaming in the strange red light. Her teammates stood victorious¡ªexhausted, panting, but alive. No one was gravely wounded. Eleanor alone felt the deepest strain; her bloodline and Overdrive had drained her strength more than she wanted to admit.


    One by one, they armed themselves from the fallen. Kiara imed a crossbow and quiver of arrows. Joshua, Jaciara, and Maira each selected a sword to their liking. Ophelia kept the same rusty de she had used for the kill... worn, but appropriate in her grip. Finally, Eleanor slung a heavy broadsword across her back. Crude though the weapons were, the team was now properly armed.


    From then on, the forest hunt began. They moved like a machine, cutting down patrols and packs. Orc after orc fell, each kill yielding thirty points. Their total soared past a thousand each, climbing steadily up the rankings. By the time they paused, all but Ophelia were firmly within the top twenty.


    They had just agreed to push further, gathering points to secure Ophelia¡¯s rank, when a notification echoed in everyone¡¯s mind. Thest two-hour countdown had begun.


    Eleanor opened her status screen.


    [Status]


    Time Left: 1:59:48


    Primary Objective: Kill the Troll King and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team members: 6


    Points: 1238 (Rank-5)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    Eleanor dismissed the screen with a thought. They had little time left.


    The decision was unanimous... they would leave the forest and head for the castle. The climb up the mountain began as an upward march, their boots crunching against moss-slick roots and stone. The air was heavy, saturated with a sour, ancient smell that clung to their throats. Trees loomed above, their trunks carpeted in fungus, the bark weeping strands of pale moss.


    It was Ophelia who noticed first. "Spider webs," she murmured. Traps stretched between rocks and trees, some torn apart as if by battle, others still intact.


    She slipped ahead to scout, her presence vanishing into the gloom. Minutester, she returned.... face grim.


    "Ma¡¯am... there¡¯s a cave up ahead. More than twenty bodies inside, all wrapped in webbing. They¡¯re still alive... at least their hearts are beating. But..." her voice dropped, "I didn¡¯t see the spider."


    The group exchanged dark looks.


    "Then we find it first," Eleanor decided. "We won¡¯t free them only to see them ughtered."


    Their search ended on a cliff, where the mangled corpse of a spider the size of a carriagey sprawled. Someone had already killed it. Hope red... perhaps the cave was safe.


    But inside, the truth was worse than they imagined.


    From the ceiling hung more than twenty cocoons, swaying gently like grotesque fruit. Each pulsed faintly with life. Auras leaked through the silk: werewolves, vampires, merfolk, nagas. Cadets, every one of them.


    "Water users... cut them free with water des. Don¡¯t touch the webs. Everyone else, guard the entrance." Eleanor¡¯s orders rang sharp.


    Jaciara, Maira, and Joshua went to work, slicing carefully through the sticky strands. Eleanor and Kiara stood at the mouth of the cave, in full vignce. Ophelia melted into Eleanor¡¯s shadow, unseen but waiting.


    One cocoon fell, then another. Four, five... unconscious cadetsy on the ground, breathing but insensate. Relief barely had time to settle.


    An eerie clunking sound rattled above them, echoing through the stone cave. Everyone froze. Eleanor¡¯s gaze snapped upward...toote!


    A strand of white silk shot from the ceiling,tching onto Joshua¡¯s chest. With terrifying speed, he was yanked skyward, wrapped in webbing before he could even scream. In seconds, he was a cocoon.


    "Cut the whole web down! Don¡¯t mind the others!" Eleanor ordered, surging forward into the cave.


    More strands trembled, and with a sickening rip, the ceiling tore open. Dozens of cocoons rained down with Joshua,y on the floor still connected in sticky cords. Behind them, a tunnel came into view... hidden until now. Their¡¯s true entrance that they missed due to thick web.


    Suddenly, the spider descended. Its screech split the cavern, a shrill, bone-deep vibration that made every eardrum ache. The air quivered. From the tunnel above, it dropped on a strand as thick as a man¡¯s arm.


    The creature was monstrous... its bodyrger than a wagon, its eyes glittering like shards of obsidian. Rage twisted every motion. Its legs, long and barbed, stabbed down like spears, gouging holes into stone.


    "Scatter!" Eleanor shouted, swinging her broadsword in a desperate arc to buy some time for her teammates. But she wasn¡¯t fast enough.


    One spider leg whipped sideways, striking her squarely in the ribs. She barely managed to interpose her de, but the force still hurled her across the cavern. She mmed against the wall, the impact ripping the breath from her lungs. Pain exploded through her side... hot, sharp, suffocating. Stars danced before her vision. Her knees nearly buckled. Still, she forced herself upright, blood roaring in her ears.


    "Kiara!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Target its eyes... blind it! Don¡¯t let it focus!"


    Every word stabbed pain through her ribs, but she didn¡¯t falter. Leadership demanded more than strength... it demanded resolve, even in agony.


    Kiara reacted instantly. Her bow thrummed without pause, arrows hissing toward the spider¡¯s cluster of eyes. Beside her, the water users unleashed a barrage... dozens of spinning, razor-sharp water des. They weren¡¯t meant to pierce the thick carapace, but to harry and distract. The cavern rang with the constant skitter-snap of steel-hard chitin deflecting the assault.


    The spider retaliated with startling speed. Its abdomen convulsed, then burst forward a massive of glistening silk that spread wide like a trap.


    "Water shield!" Eleanor¡¯smand cut the air.


    Maira and Jaciara thrust their palms outward. A wall of water surged up, shimmering blue in the red glow. The sticky threadstched onto the shield, dragged it down under their own weight, then sttered harmlessly to the stone floor in wet clumps.


    "Now!" Eleanor barked, lunging forward despite the fire in her ribs. "Legs with swords... eyes with arrows!"


    The team struck as one. Kiara¡¯s arrows whistled, sliced through the air, and Jaciara and Maira hacked at the spider¡¯s legs. The monster iled, forced into retreat by the sudden coordinated onught.


    Then, from the ground beneath it, Ophelia emerged silently. She knew her de could never pierce the armoured body. So, she chose differently. In a single, precise strike, her short sword drove upward into the soft gap beneath the spider¡¯s jaw.


    The de pierce through the skull.


    The spider shrieked, a screech so piercing it seemed to shake loose the very stone around them. Its massive body convulsed, legs scraping and hammering in blind rage.


    "Get Down!" Eleanor shouted, dragging herself sideways just as a leg stabbed where she had stood.


    The berserk thrashingsted seconds that stretched into eternity... then Maira, face grim, hefted arge stone from the ground and hurled herself forward. With a cry, she mmed it against the spider¡¯s head. The creature¡¯s head bursts into a sickening crunch.


    The sound echoed through the cave. The creature spasmed once, then copsed in a heap of twitching limbs. A final shuddering sigh escaped its mandibles, then silence imed the cavern.


    Only the team¡¯s ragged breathing remained.


    Eleanor sagged against the stone wall, clutching her side. Painnced through every breath, but her gaze remained sharp. Ophelia darted toward her, worry in in her pale face, but Eleanor waved her off with a faint shake of her head.


    "Rescue them first," she rasped. "I¡¯m okay."


    There was no argument. Water users hurried to the cocoons, slicing carefully through silk. One by one, pale faces emerged, cadets who had been prey moments ago. Joshua was finally free... his face white as chalk, but he regained his consciousness faster than others.


    Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the rustle of web being cut and the soft sshes of water as they revived the unconscious with sprinkles across their faces. Groggy, frightened, but alive... every cadet stirred eventually.


    Only then did Eleanor allow herself to exhale. Despite the ache that racked her body, a faint, pained smile tugged at her lips.


    "We¡¯re not staying here," she said firmly, forcing herself upright. Her voice brooked no debate. "If another spideres looking for its mate... none of us are ready for a second round."

 Chapter 225: The Throne of Skulls

    <h4>Chapter 225: The Throne of Skulls</h4>


    Atst, Eleanor and her team reached the mountain¡¯s summit. There, carved into the jagged rock, loomed the fortress they had glimpsed from below. The castle rose like a dark crown against the red sky, its towering walls jagged with age yet impossibly solid. From afar, it had seemed impregnable.


    But as they crossed the wide stone bridge to its gate, it became clear that the battle had already been fought.


    The main courtyard was littered with bodies... orc corpses, troll carcasses, even the twisted remains of goblin hounds. The stench of blood and smoke clung to the air. Cadets moved cautiously through the ruins, weapons drawn more out of habit than necessity. When Eleanor hailed one group, she learned what had transpired here... the castle had already been purged. No monsters remained alive.


    Only one challenge was left... The Troll King!


    His chambery at the heart of the keep. The cadets exined that once a group entered, they never returned to the trial grounds. Win or lose, the chamber was the end.


    A queue had already formed. Six teams stood in line before them, their faces taut with fatigue and expectation. Eleanor¡¯s group would be the seventh to step through those doors.


    She ordered her team to rest. Their bodies needed strength, and minds needed calm. While they gathered their breath, Ophelia slipped away into the castle¡¯s dim halls, her presence vanishing into the shadows as naturally as a sigh.


    Eleanor sat cross-legged against a cold stone wall and summoned her status screen.


    [Status]


    Time Left: 0:38:22


    Primary Objective: Kill the Troll King and recapture the stronghold.


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters.


    Team Members: 6


    Points: 1322 (Rank¨C7)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    With a thought, she dismissed it.


    The spider had earned them five hundred points. Enough to solidify their lead, but her rank had not shifted. Eleanor felt no disappointment. In truth, she was relieved. Being third meant safety. The eyes of rivals would fall on the topper, not on her. For this firstpetition, survival and measured strength mattered more than glory.


    The faint ripple of shadow heralded Ophelia¡¯s return. She emerged silently at Eleanor¡¯s side, bowing her head slightly.


    "Ma¡¯am," she reported, "there is a restriction ced over this castle. Cadets cannot ascend beyond the ground floor. Only the throne chamber is essible. The upper levels are sealed by some arrays... most likely part of the trial itself. The monsters are gone, in by the first wave of cadets. But I gathered these for us."


    Sheid down her spoils:... iron swords polished with use, sturdier bows strung with fresh cord, and quivers filled with sharp arrows. The weapons were still crude wrought iron, butpared to the rusted scraps from the orcs, these felt bnced, reliable, and ready.


    Eleanor allowed herself the faintest nod of approval. "Good work. Distribute them. When it¡¯s our turn, we will be ready."


    ***


    It had been almost three minutes the sixth team entered the throne room. The glowing door rippled more brightly once, then dulled to a dull stone-grey. Eleanor pushed it open, and a suffocating darkness swallowed them whole. Nothing... no light, no detail existed beyond a few paces. Even with their wolf eyes, they couldn¡¯t see far.


    Jaciara slipped inst. The instant the door shut, the chamber red alive. Light zed as though the sun itself had been drawn down into the stone walls. The throne room revealed itself... vast, cavernous, and terrible. And there, seated on a throne of skulls, loomed their foe.


    The Troll King!


    He was monstrous... easily thrice the height of a fully grown werewolf. His white-grey skin stretched taut over bs of rippling muscle. A crude yet imposing crown of crystal shards sat heavy upon his head, refracting light into fractured rainbows that danced grotesquely across his scarred face. His eyes glimmered with the dull intelligence of a predator, a cruel spark that relished the fight toe.


    "Otherworlders!" he thundered, his voice a grinding avnche of stone on stone. "You trespass upon mynd. You ughter my kin. And now you dare crawl before me?" His thick lips curled into a snarl, jagged tusks bared. "Arrogant! Audacious! Allow me to send you to your maker!"


    The chamber trembled as the king rose. Step by step, he descended from his throne. Each stride sent tremors rippling through the floor, shaking loose dust from the vaulted ceiling. His crown burned brighter, shards of multicoloured crystal scattering across the stone like fractured suns.


    And then he charged. The giant became a storm of motion, his bulk impossibly fast. His roar boomed like thunder, reverberating through the bones of every cadet.


    Eleanor¡¯s instincts screamed. She whipped her broadsword into guard... only to feel empty air.


    Her hand clutched nothing!


    Her heart sank.


    Beside her, all teammates stared in horror. Every de, every bow, every iron scrap they had scavenged... the castle had stripped it all away. They stood bare-handed, d only in the academy¡¯s enchanted uniforms, as naked in battle as they had been on the first moment.


    The odds, once steep, now seemed impossible.


    Eleanor¡¯s mind snapped into focus, she needed to ovee this precarious situation. "Joshua, Maira, and Jaciara all have water abilities, but water has almost no effect on trolls. If it were a light ability, it might work to some extent. Kiara can only rely on her physical strength. It would be better to hide Ophelia for a sessful assassination," She thought.


    "Spread out and dodge!" Eleanor¡¯smand cracked through the chaos like thunder. "Surround him... we observe before we strike!"


    The team scattered as the Troll King¡¯s colossal fist mmed into the floor where they had stood.


    Stone split like brittle ss. Shards exploded outward in a deadly spray, peppering their enchanted uniforms. The shockwave itself shoved them back, teeth rattling.


    Joshua rolled across the ground, shoulder-first, breath catching in his chest. "Bloody hell... he¡¯s faster than a wolf at full sprint!"


    "Don¡¯t stop moving!" Eleanor said, pivoting wide, her glowing green eyes narrowing as she tracked every motion. There has to be a weakness. Every beast has one.


    But the king was a force of nature. His arms swung like battering rams, each sweep discing the air in violent gales that staggered even the nimblest among them.


    Maira darted in at his nk, ws shing. She raked at the troll¡¯s hide with a flurry of strikes, water des whistling from her fingers to sharpen the blows. The cuts opened... then sealed almost instantly, the wounds knitting closed before her eyes.


    Her lips pulled back in a snarl just as the troll¡¯s massive hand closed around her torso. With casual brutality, he hurled her across the chamber.


    She struck the wall hard enough to crater stone, coughing blood as she slid down to her knees. "Water is useless," she spat, dragging herself upright. Her jaw was tight with pain.


    "Not useless," Jaciaramented, already weaving her hands. A torrent of pressurized water sted across the giant¡¯s eyes, forcing him to raise his arm for an instant. "We can harass him... blind him... open windows for others."


    Kiara saw her chance. She sprinted low, vaulted onto the troll¡¯s knee, and drove a heel strike into the joint. The impact thundered like a drum. His skin dented... barely.


    The Troll King¡¯s roar shook the marrow in their bones. He swatted at her like a man batting away a fly. But Kiara had already sprung away,nding in a roll just as his palm thundered against the floor where she had been a moment ago.


    Ophelia vanished into shadow, slipping beneath the throne¡¯s tform. She waited there, body taut, searching for the moment to strike. But even she, with all her assassin¡¯s skill, could find no opening. Without steel, without poison, her ws alone would not pierce that hide.


    Above, the Troll King straightened, his crown zing brighter with each passing heartbeat. Hisugh boomed through the chamber... mocking, cruel.


    The Troll King barreled forward again, his crown scattering fractured rainbows across the chamber as his massive fist swept down. Eleanor darted low, sliding beneath the blow. Her fingers struck precise nerve clusters along his thigh. He grunted... then the flesh rippled, knitting closed with sickening ease.


    "Damn it!" She sprang to her feet, chest heaving. "This monster heals too fast. Nothing sticks."


    Joshua¡¯s voice echoed from across the hall. "If I had a sword, I could at least carve him apart!"


    "Stop dreaming about weapons and defend yourself!" Eleanor said, her eyes never leaving the behemoth. "If one of his full blowsnds, we¡¯re finished!"


    The fight spiralled on... dodging, scraping, panting. Their uniforms were shredded, their bodies bruised and aching. The troll¡¯sughter rumbled like thunder, and still he pressed on, relentless.


    Then... suddenly, something inside Eleanor clicked. A realization so sharp it cut through all her exhaustion.


    "We are not in our true bodies here. This is a test... a virtual reality setting. The pain we feel is real, the fatigue is real, but the injuries are not. No broken bones will follow us out. If we die here, we won¡¯t actually die. Our trial ends there... and we wake up in the capsule." Her lips curled into a feral grin.


    "Listen up, team!" she shouted... this time, unknowingly unleashing her Alphamand. "We¡¯ve been holding back, fighting like humans with techniques and weapons. Forget that! This is virtual reality. This world cannot kill us. The pain is nothing... it disappears the moment we step out of the capsule. The only way to bring him down is to tear him apart before his regeneration kicks in... piece by piece, as fast as we can. Now, let¡¯s unleash our true selves!"


    The others froze for a heartbeat, her words sinking in. Then their eyes widened with sudden understanding.


    "You mean..." Joshua began, but the Troll King struck, seizing on thepse in focus. Joshua narrowly dodged the massive fist, tumbling across the ground before finding his footing again.


    "Do not lose concentration!" Eleanor¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, sharp andmanding. "One perfect hit, and you¡¯re out."


    Her ws lengthened, gleaming under the dim light, as she let the beast within surge to the surface. A primal growl rumbled from her chest.


    "We be what we are... werewolves! Let¡¯s show this oversized monster what a pack can do."

 Chapter 226: Call of the Moon

    <h4>Chapter 226: Call of the Moon</h4>


    The Troll King¡¯s next roar drowned out thest of Eleanor¡¯s words, but it didn¡¯t matter. The decision had been made.


    Her body began to change into her silver wolf form... bones shifting, muscles twisting as fur burst across her arms. Her jaw cracked outward, forming a snarling maw. Within heartbeats, the youngest Alpha of the Rayon n stood in her full werewolf form... towering above all else, exuding a potent aura. Her green eyes glowed like the ancient, silent light of a star. Her majestic silver fur caught and reflected the brilliance of the chamber¡¯s light.


    She raised her head and unleashed her most powerful Alpha ability... the Call of the Moon. A thunderous howl reverberated through the throne room, and one by one the others answered.


    Maira knew exactly what Eleanor was doing. Though she was an Alpha herself, she felt the primal urge to yield and follow. The ancient way of the werewolves... follow the strongest, the one who can call the moon. She too could summon the Call, but this time she knew better than to im the lead.


    Dodging a strike from the Troll King, she shifted. A magnificent emerald-green werewolf emerged into view. The long, dark-green fur along her neck gleamed in the light, and her golden eyes zed like miniature suns. Maira shook her mane like a lion and answered the Call. A born Alpha, voluntarily submitting to another. With her voice joining Eleanor¡¯s, both of them surged in strength.


    Jaciara shifted next, her form a spring-green wolf wreathed in a faint mist that drifted from her fur. Though not as radiant as Maira, her body was broader, stronger. She threw her head back and howled with all her might.


    Joshua and Kiara transformed mid-movement. Joshua became a lean grey wolf, his toned muscles speaking volumes of his physical prowess. Kiara¡¯s green eyes shone with sharp ferocity as her limbs elongated and reshaped. She emerged as a white wolf, elegant and pure in form, yet fierce in presence. Together, they raised their voices to the Call.


    Ophelia lingered in Eleanor¡¯s shadow. Her wolf-form was silent, cloaked in darkness... only Eleanor felt her presence as she too answered the Call.


    Together, six werewolves stood against the Troll King. Two Alphas at their head, every one of them far stronger than before.


    The Troll King did not flinch at the chorus of howls. If anything, it enraged him further. His chest swelled, ribcage stretching unnaturally as he let out a roar that shattered the air, spraying spittle across the floor. The sound cracked stone overhead, fragments of skulls tumbling down like brittle rain. Then, with shocking speed, he charged.


    The throne room quaked with each colossal stride. His massive bulk surged forward, terrifyingly swift. His first swing came like a battering ram. The werewolves scattered, ws screeching on polished stone as they leapt clear. Even so, the shockwave rattled their bones.


    Eleanor darted in first, silver fur shing, ws faintly aglow beneath the harsh light. She shed across his thigh in a blur, and flesh peeled away in bloody ribbons. But the wound sealed itself before her paws even struck the floor again. The blood that spilled hissed against the stone, steaming like molten tar.


    "Damn regeneration!" Eleanor snarled, rolling aside as the Troll King¡¯s knee mmed down like a falling boulder.


    The King bellowed and swung his arm. Eleanor twisted aside just in time... but the sheer force of the air hurled her sideways, mming her into the throne of skulls. Bone cracked as part of the grotesque seat shattered; skulls ttered across the floor in a rattling cascade. Splinters bit into her ribs. She staggered upright, blood dripping from her muzzle.


    Maira jumped onto the Troll King¡¯s back, ws plunging deep. She wed violently, ripping a thick strip of muscle from his shoulder. Dark blood spurted in a torrent, spattering her emerald fur. The Troll roared and reached behind, fingers like spears punching through her side. His ws mped her torso, then flung her away like a rag doll.


    Maira¡¯s howl of agony tore through the chamber as her body hit the stone wall. She slid down, leaving a smear of blood in her wake. Her green fur was drenched crimson, her body trembling, but still clinging to life.


    "MAIRA!" Jaciara¡¯s howl split the air. The spring-green wolf lunged, her mist thickening into a storm. She tore at the troll¡¯s knees with savage fury, ws digging again and again, hacking bloody chunks free. Each strike left a mess of torn flesh, but the wounds sealed almost as quickly as they opened.


    The King raised his leg and brought his foot down like a hammer. The impact caved the stone floor and nearly crushed Jaciara beneath. She rolled clear at thest instant, but the force of the blow snapped ribs like twigs. The ground split beside her. For a sickening heartbeat, she saw death bearing down. With sheer willpower, she dragged herself away, chest heaving, ribs crushed inward, blood pouring from her jaws.


    Joshua darted in then, his grey wolf form weaving side to side, too quick for the eye. He struck with brutal precision, ws tearing at tendons, joints, weak spots. His shes ripped open the troll¡¯s wrists, exposing tendons that writhed like pale snakes. For one precious heartbeat, the regeneration faltered. Joshua pressed his attack... only for the King¡¯s hand to close around him mid-leap.


    The troll¡¯s massive fingers crushed his torso like a vice. With a single wrenching twist, Joshua¡¯s left arm tore free. Blood gushed in a crimson fountain, sttering the throne room, streaking Eleanor¡¯s silver fur. Joshua¡¯s howl of pain warped into a furious snarl as he sank his teeth into the troll¡¯s thumb, ripping half the flesh from the hand before being hurled into a pir. He hit hard, his stump spraying blood across the stone.


    Kiara sprinted to his side. Her white fur, now drenched in red, bristled with rage. With a savage leap shended on the troll¡¯s face, ws gouging deep into its eyes. One orb burst beneath her strike, hot fluid pouring down her legs. She ripped and tore, blinding him.


    The King shrieked and smashed his skull against the wall, nearly crushing Kiara between his face and stone. She dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Her body went limp for an instant, bones snapping under the brutal fall, yet her eyes still glowed faintly through the haze of pain.


    Eleanor¡¯s fury exploded. With a snarl that split the air, she leapt and drove her ws into the Troll¡¯s chest. She raked downward, tearing muscle from sternum to belly, spilling entrails across the floor. The stench of bile and blood choked the chamber. Her muzzle dripped crimson as she mped her jaws around his throat.


    The Troll seized her by the waist and crushed. Bones cracked under his grip. Eleanor coughed blood, silver fur slicked red, yet she refused to let go. Her ws dug deeper, ripping chunks of flesh free.


    "Don¡¯t stop!" she roared, her voice mangled but thunderous. "TEAR HIM!"


    Hermand reignited the pack.


    Maira staggered upright despite the gaping hole in her side, her emerald fur slick with blood. She lunged and mped her jaws around the troll¡¯s hamstring, shaking until the tendon snapped loose. Jaciara tore at his other leg, ws raking until bone gleamed white through the gore. Joshua, one-armed and reeling, hurled himself back into the fray, his ws carving into the troll¡¯s back with the methodical savagery of a butcher. Kiara, broken and barely breathing, dragged herself forward and sank her teeth into his ankle... wrenching and ripping until her own jaw cracked under the strain.


    The throne room became a ughterhouse.


    The Troll King howled, his vast body convulsing. Chunks of flesh sloughed off in steaming heaps, his iron crown ttering into a pool of gore. His regeneration faltered atst, overwhelmed by the relentless assault of the pack.


    But he still fought. His fist crashed into Jaciara¡¯s ribs, splintering them further in a spray of blood. His ws ripped across Eleanor¡¯s back, opening long furrows through silver fur and flesh. Maira lost an ear, her emerald muzzle shattered by a backhand strike. Joshua¡¯s leg was snapped beneath a stomp, bone jutting through the skin. Kiara¡¯s tail was torn away in a wet spray of bone and blood.


    Still they fought, tearing him apart piece by piece, until the throne room ran ankle-deep with blood.


    Then the King suddenly stilled. His body sagged, then straightened with dreadful purpose. He was preparing hisst resort... the Roar of the King. A final strike, unleashed only at the brink of death. It was a weapon designed to break a pack: an explosion of raw force that killed or crippled everything in its radius, buying precious time for reinforcements to arrive. The price was all of the King¡¯s remaining strength, but for his kind, it was an honourable way to fall.


    His body began to swell, veins bulging, muscles ballooning as energy surged through him. His bleeding ceased. Power rose like a tide. Eleanor¡¯s instincts screamed in warning.


    "Run! As far as you can... he¡¯s self-exploding!" she roared.


    The team scattered, desperate to escape the st. But what Eleanor expected never came. Instead, the King threw back his head and unleashed a roar so vast it became a weapon... pure, crushing soundced with raw energy. The st yed their bodies from the inside out. Wolves screamed in agony, muscles tearing, ears bleeding, bones cracking under the invisible pressure. The chamber itself shook, stones crumbling from the walls, until atst the roar subsided.


    The King sagged to his knees, panting heavily. He looked around the ruin. Three lifeless bodiesy crumpled against the walls. Eleanor and Maira were sprawled on the floor, barely alive only because of their Alpha regeneration. They looked almost dead, too weak to move, their eyes fixed helplessly on the monstrosity looming before them.


    Relief flickered across the King¡¯s mangled face as his wounds began slowly to knit. But then his expression twisted into sudden horror.


    Maira, watching through half-lidded eyes, whispered hoarsely, "What...?"


    Eleanor didn¡¯t even lift her head. Her voice came t, steady: "Ophelia."


    Ophelia had waited in silence the whole time. First hidden within Eleanor¡¯s shadow, her ck wolf-form invisible to the Troll¡¯s raging eyes. When Eleanor struck her final blows, Ophelia had slipped into the King¡¯s own shadow. Shielded at the very heart of hisst attack, she had felt not the faintest scratch.


    Now, from the Troll King¡¯s shadow, a ck wolf emerged... soundless, inevitable, like death itself. Ophelia¡¯s head tilted slowly to one side, stretching her neck as though preparing for the kill.

 Chapter 227: A Cinematic Finishing

    <h4>Chapter 227: A Cinematic Finishing</h4>


    The King froze at the sight of the ck Werewolf¡¯s sudden emergence. His eyes widened in shock. Anger, despair, fear, grief, sorrow, helplessness, denial, and atst resignation... an entire storm of emotions shed across his gaze in a single instant. The final attack had drained him of everything. He had no strength left. He could only stare at the ck wolf and await his doom. Slowly, inevitably, his gaze settled into one final expression: eptance.


    Ophelia¡¯s voice came like a whisper, yet it filled every corner of the blood-soaked chamber.


    "Die."


    She stepped forward with calm, unhurried grace, until she stood before the King. Meeting his gaze without flinching, she sank her ws into the ragged wound Eleanor had left in his chest. Her arm plunged deep into the steaming cavity. She closed her ws around the Troll¡¯s pulsing heart... then tore it free.


    The heart, vast and veined with ck corruption, beat once... twice... before Ophelia crushed it in her fist.


    Blood erupted in a geyser, drenching the chamber. Walls, floor, broken wolves, and shattered thrones vanished beneath the crimson spray.


    The Troll King convulsed. His regeneration failed, his colossal frame copsing into ruin. He toppled with an earth-shaking crash that split the skull dais beneath him. His crown rolled into the swelling pool of gore and disappeared from sight.


    Silence followed. Only the dripping of blood echoed in the chamber.


    Ophelia shifted back into her human form and walked to Eleanor. Eleanor, too weak even to celebrate, slumped against her. Ophelia pulled her from the spreading pool of blood. Eleanor transformed back as well... still battered, bruised, and broken, but clothed once more in her uniform, a thin veneer of dignity masking the ruin of her body.


    Ophelia crossed to Maira and dragged her to Eleanor¡¯s side. Maira returned to her human form, slumping against the wall, breath shallow but alive. Ophelia sat down beside them.


    For a long while, none of them spoke. Their eyes lingered on the bodies of Kiara, Joshua, and Jaciara... still lying where they had fallen.


    Then, after what felt like an eternity, the expected sound rang in their minds.


    "Congrattions! You havepleted the Primary Objective! You have been awarded 5,000 points!"


    A brilliant white light red before their eyes. Their bodies dissolved into particles, vanishing from the blood-soaked throne room.


    ***


    Eleanor opened her eyes and found herself inside the capsule, the same one she had entered before being transported into the trial world. A glowing status screen hovered before her eyes.


    [Status]


    Primary Objective: Kill the Troll King and recapture the stronghold (Complete).


    Secondary Objective: Eliminate the monsters (Partially Complete).


    Team Members: 6


    Points: 2,156 (Rank-3)


    [Do you want to hide the status screen? Yes/No]


    It took her a long moment to steady her thoughts, to wrench her mind free from the memory of that grotesque throne room. The stench of blood, the crack of bones, the feeling of her ribs breaking beneath the Troll King¡¯s grip... everything remained painfully vivid.


    Without hermand, the screen flickered and vanished. The capsule lid hissed open. Eleanor instinctively sat up, blinking as the harsh light of the chamber reced the suffocating darkness of battle. Everything was just as before... rows of capsules lined the room, most were sealed shut.


    A sergeant strode to her side. "Cadet, do you feel any difort? Healers are stationed outside the door. If you require assistance, you may report there."


    Eleanor forced a dry smile. "No need. Thank you for your concern."


    "Very well. Take your time. Step down when you¡¯re ready." He moved on to another capsule that had just opened.


    Eleanor realised she was still perched inside her own pod. She drew in a deep breath, then swung her legs down and stood. She pressed the switch to seal the capsule behind her and walked out into the corridor.


    "Ma¡¯am, we¡¯re here!" Ophelia called the moment Eleanor stepped through the doorway. Not far away, Joshua, Kiara, Jaciara, and Ophelia were waiting together by the wall.


    Eleanor crossed over to them. "Where is Maira?"


    "She hasn¡¯te out yet," Jaciara replied. "We were waiting for you two."


    No sooner had she spoken than a cheerful voice rang out behind them. "Aunt Jaciara! Can you believe it? I ranked sixth!"


    Jaciara chuckled. "Don¡¯t worry, I believe you." She nearly mentioned that she herself had ced fifth but held her tongue, letting the younger girl bask in her triumph.


    Eleanor turned to Ophelia. "Do you know what our next event is today?"


    "I asked one of the sergeants," Ophelia said. "We¡¯re free to return to the dormitory. Aside from mealtimes, we have no obligations. Dinner and breakfast are mandatory, but the other meals are optional. We can buy food from the canteens if we like. Also, the library and the indoor games hall are open until dinner."


    Eleanor nodded. "Then let¡¯s head back to the dormitory. We should rest."


    The group agreed and set off together.


    ***


    In the dimly lit conference room, where all the professors had gathered to observe the performances of this term¡¯s cadets, silence fell after Ophelia crushed the Troll King¡¯s heart.


    They all knew it was not real... merely a trial... but the way Eleanor¡¯s group had fought, despite being so much weaker than their opponent, stirred something deep in their battle-hardened bones. Every professor present had fought with their life on the line in Molgrath for real. Yet Eleanor¡¯s team had made them feel the old rush again, the same pulse of adrenaline they remembered from true war.


    When Eleanor¡¯s points suddenly soared at the start, and they understood why, their attention shifted to other cadets. Dragons and fairies had performed especially well. In fact, the first toplete the trial were from those two races. They had not wasted time hunting lesser creatures for points; instead, they went straight for the final battle. Dragons had crushed the Troll King through overwhelming might, while fairies had wielded their light magic with lethal precision.


    The trial had been designed so that no single cadet should be able to defeat the final boss. A few arrogant or overconfident ones had tried... and failed miserably. The best results came from the top two: a teamposed of a fire dragon and a fairy, the most devastatingbination imaginable. Several three-member teams had also seeded in killing the Troll King, but those battles had been one-sided affairs. Either the boss was ughtered, or the cadets were.


    Only Eleanor¡¯s team had shown true teamwork. They had fused their strengths, covered each other¡¯s weaknesses, and fought like a pack that refused to break.


    Professor Yara Anah¨ª Seraphina, head of the Water School, found her gaze fixed on the screen that disyed Ma¨ªra of the Amazon n. She had intended to focus on her former n¡¯s younger generation, but Eleanor¡¯s performance intrigued her as well. Fortune favoured her: the two girls had joined the same team, sparing her the need to split her attention.


    As head of the Water School, she was obliged to check in on all cadets with an affinity for water. But her true focus never strayed far from that team. She had been quietly delighted when Jaciara and Joshua joined Eleanor¡¯s group. Both were water-users, which gave her a perfect excuse to study their screen without arousing suspicion.


    Unbeknownst to Yara, another professor had also been watching the same team with rapt attention. As the ceremony progressed and more cadets died or merged into teams, each team¡¯s feed grewrger. By the time Eleanor¡¯s group faced the Troll King, their battle dominated the disy.


    Professor Charles Scott Sherrington had personal dealings with Fiona Raynor, head of the Raynor n. She had already informed him that her granddaughter, Eleanor Raynor, would be joining this term. He had even been provided with her photograph and details in advance. Their agreement was simple: he would ensure that the Raynor n¡¯s Elizabeth bloodline grew stronger, and in return, the Elizabeths would lend a hand in his research by using their superior bloodline abilities.


    Charles had been waiting for Eleanor to reveal herself. She had certainly done so... causing such amotion at the very start of the initiation ceremony that even he had been forced to pay attention. In truth, his presence here was obligatory, demanded by his department head. This ceremony offered no opportunity for alchemists or naturalists to demonstrate their disciplines. Yet tradition required that every school send at least one representative to watch, in case a prodigy emerged.


    When Eleanor and her team had risked themselves to free other cadets from the spider webs, Charles had been the first to speak up... praising them so loudly that the other professors turned to see. The spiders had been ced in the trial to instil fear, a reminder of what awaited in Vanaheim. Any cadet caught was marked for certain death, and rescuing them was neither practical nor logical in a virtual scenario. Yet Eleanor¡¯s group had done it anyway. Their choice might not have earned them points, but it had earned them something far rarer: the professors¡¯ respect.


    From that moment on, many professors had followed their progress. And their attention was richly rewarded when Eleanor¡¯s team brought down the Troll King against all odds. Their desperate, suicidal charge, followed by Ophelia¡¯s silent emergence from the shadows to deliver the final blow, had given the professors something rare: a battle worthy of being called art.


    Even long after the initiation ended, the professors continued to talk about it. Some even requested copies of the recording, to show future cadets what truebat spirit looked like.


    Professor Charles Scott Sherrington and Professor Yara Anah¨ª Seraphina were like proud parents, boasting about Eleanor¡¯s team to colleagues who had missed parts of the fight.

 Chapter 228: Professor Sylphania Jovienne Angélique

    <h4>Chapter 228: Professor Sylphania Jovienne Ang¨¦lique</h4>


    Eleanor and the others went straight to sleep after returning to their dormitory. They were utterly exhausted... not physically, but spiritually. Death, near-death, and the gruesome sh with the Troll King had left their souls threadbare. Though the battlefield had been virtual, the pain, the loss, and the finality of death had felt real. Too real. Those who had fallen and awakened inside their capsules spoke of it as if they had been given a second life.


    They slept until afternoon without stirring.


    By noon, when the rest of the cadets streamed into the dining hall for lunch, the first thing that caught every eye was the towering digital disy beside the gate: the leaderboard of the Initiation Ceremony.


    Congrattions to the winners of the Initiation Ceremony:


    Rank¨C1: Ignatius Aurelius Emberfall (10156618), 2620 Points


    Rank¨C2: ra Noelle Luminelle (10156597), 2590 Points


    Rank¨C3: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659), 2156 Points


    Rank¨C4: Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601), 2127 Points


    Rank¨C5: Jaciara Moara (10156681), 2086 Points


    Rank¨C6: Ma¨ªra Arara Neblina (10156660), 2056 Points


    Rank¨C7: Phoebe Juno Solstice (10156623), 2047 Points


    Rank¨C8: Joshua Cordillera (101566588), 2006 Points


    Rank¨C9: Kiara Raynor (10156672), 1996 Points


    Rank¨C10: Ophelia nc (10156675), 1976 Points


    The dining hall erupted into buzzing spection. Professors and cadets alike dissected the results with feverish excitement.


    Eleanor had once nned to remain inconspicuous by avoiding the top of the leaderboard. That n nowy in tatters. She and her team were the subject of every conversation, their battle with the Troll King overshadowing even Ignatius the fire dragon, crowned champion, or ra the fairy whose light magic had stunned all.


    It was not Eleanor¡¯s third ce alone that caused the stir. It was the fact that every single member of her pack had secured a ce in the top ten. Never before in the Academy¡¯s history had so many werewolves risen so high at once. Normally, one or two might scrape into the top ten, and some years not a single wolf ranked at all¡ªas in Fiona Raynor¡¯s own batch, many years ago. But this time, among the top ten, aside from two dragons and two fairies, six werewolves had imed their ce. All from the same team. And none of them had been bolstered by the presence of another race.


    Oblivious to the storm of attention they had ignited, Ma¨ªra woke in the evening and padded down to the dormitory canteen in search of food. When she paid the canteen manager, she froze. Her device disyed her total: 2066 points. The Academy had rewarded them.


    Grinning to herself, she bought extra food and made straight for Eleanor¡¯s room. The knocking roused Eleanor from her slumber. When she heard of Ma¨ªra¡¯s increase, she immediately checked her own status.


    [Status Screen]


    Cadet Name: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor


    Cadet Number: 10156659


    Institution: Ascendance Academy of Midgard


    Race: Werewolf (Alpha)


    Bloodline: Mind Reaver (Level¨C1), Thunderbolt (Dormant)


    Cultivation Level: Awakened


    Academy Points: 2166


    Sure enough, the Academy had credited her with every point earned in the trial. With the daily ten free points added, the total felt weighty. Eleanor hadn¡¯t felt this "rich" in a long time.


    "Nora, are there any changes in my stats, or anything new in the Academy after thepetition?" she asked silently.


    "No change in your personal stats," Nora replied, "but the Academy has opened an official forum for cadets. Some professors are present there too. The final results of the ceremony have already been posted. See for yourself."


    Eleanor walked over to the desk. She always left herptop open for Nora, granting ess to the Academy¡¯s channels and servers. That way, the spirit could gather information with ease.


    Guided by Nora, she found the new forum... a shortcut had already been ced neatly on the desktop.


    No sign-up was needed; the system recognised her instantly through herptop and cadet key. At the top was a single post: "Final Winners of the Initiation Ceremony!"


    Eleanor clicked through. The list was identical to what she had seen on the dining hall disy. She studied the numbers more closely this time. The gap between the first two and the rest of them was staggering. Dragons and fairies had crushed thepetition. But from her own third-ce position downwards, the spread was razor-thin. One slip, one mistake, and anyone could have tumbled out of the top ten entirely.


    "It looks like our strategy of amassing points by killing orcs paid off," Eleanor murmured.


    Scrolling further, she opened thements.


    Some posts offered congrattions. Others suggested her team had been favoured because they were all werewolves. A few used the Academy of tampering with the final scores. The usual noise, bickering, and conspiracy theory... like any social tform.


    Eleanor sighed. "They¡¯ve managed to turn the Academy¡¯s forum into social media in a single afternoon," she muttered. She sighed again, passed theptop to Ma¨ªra, and added, "Go on, have a look... you¡¯ll enjoy the heated arguments. But don¡¯t post anything under my ount, especially if you get worked up. And thanks for the snacks. I should probably stock some myself, just in case."


    She grabbed a packet of cookies, settled on the bed, and bit into one. Even the simplest food here had a surprising quality. As she savoured the taste, she asked Nora, "Did your exploration finish?"


    "For now," Nora answered. "But I suspect there¡¯s more hidden within the Academy. Professors seem to use a separatework for their research. You should explore in person... start with the library. It opens after breakfast and remains open until dinner. I checked your routine: Basic Cultivation in the morning, then your major specialisation. Since youck elemental magic, you¡¯ll need to choose abat style to fulfil the requirement. But... there¡¯s also the Department of Mental Arts. It wasn¡¯t introduced this term, though I suspect they¡¯ll take interest in you once they learn about your bloodline."


    "Metal arts are for higher-level Ascendants," Eleanor said aloud, frowning. "Even if I learn a few techniques, I won¡¯t be able to use them properly."


    "That is precisely why I want you to try," Nora pressed. "You¡¯ll be awakened in Vanaheim, but you won¡¯t return here immediately. The timeline is unclear... only that one month will pass. Even basic techniques could prove invaluable in such a ce. And don¡¯t forget: you can learn instantly. If your body can perform it, you can master it."


    Eleanor thought for a moment, then nodded. "Fair point. I¡¯ll visit them between sses. I¡¯m also considering optional courses... advanced cultivation paths, maybe wilderness survival. Alchemy, Forging, Healing... I don¡¯t have the qualifications for any of those."


    "Then let me suggest Formation Arts," Nora said with a hint of pride. "It requires precision and calction, which are my specialties. There¡¯s a book on your shelf... Introduction to Formation Arts. Read it before you decide. You¡¯ll only need one optional course to pass the term."


    Not long after, Ma¨ªra slipped out of the room, leaving Eleanor alone with the book. She opened it, and soon the room fell quiet, save for the soft turning of pages.


    ***


    After breakfast, all cadets gathered in a vast lecture theatre, a space so grand it easily housed all one hundred of them, with rows of seats still left empty.


    The lecture theatre itself was a masterpiece of architectural and acoustic design, a sanctum of learning that demanded reverence the moment one stepped inside. The seating unfurled in a sweeping crescent that embraced the central stage, ensuring no cadet¡¯s view was ever obstructed. Each row rose in gentle tiers, so that even those at the very back looked down upon the lectern rather than over the heads of their peers.


    The chairs were no mere benches. They were high-backed, generously proportioned seats of polished dark wood, upholstered in navy-blue leather that exhaled a faint sigh when upied. Between each seat, a delicately carved writing tablet could be swung into ce for note-taking.


    At the centre of it ally the stage... a dais of honey-coloured wood that gleamed beneath the soft lighting. Upon it rested a single desk and a high-backed chair, crafted from the same rich wood as the cadet seats. The desk was bare save for a sleekptop, a lone piece of modernity in a room otherwise steeped in timeless tradition. Behind it, the entire back wall was a single screen, a vast canvas for maps, diagrams, or battle formations, crisp and clear for all to see.


    Light streamed from cleverly hidden orbs in the ceiling coves, casting the soft, neutral glow of a cloudy sky, banishing both shadow and eye strain.


    Some cadets marvelled at the theatre¡¯s design; others whispered among themselves, while a few simply sat in nk silence. Then, the murmurs fell away as a woman entered.


    A beautiful, middle-aged figure strode to the front, a book and a tablet cradled in her hands. She moved with a grace that seemed less like walking and more like gliding, her regal indigo silk robes whispering against the polished floor. The fabric shimmered faintly, as though woven from starlight and moonlight, glowing softly with its own hidden radiance.


    Her hair cascaded in a waterfall of pale gold and silver, flowing like molten metal over her shoulders and down her back. The hood of the robe was ced gently behind, under her hair. Yet it was her face that held the cadets spellbound... not merely beautiful, but timeless. Her baster skin glowed faintly, as if lit from within. Her features bore both pride and sorrow, etched with the wisdom of ages. And her eyes... clear as a summer sky, yet unfathomable as the star-choked void... seemed to pierce each cadet where they sat.


    When she stopped before the desk, the simple furniture seemed transformed into a throne. She ignored theptop, the massive screen, all trappings of the room. Her attention fell wholly upon the cadets, and to each one it felt like a private gift.


    A hush fell, soplete that even the faint hum of the projector rang loud in the silence. The air itself seemed to grow charged, rich with the scent of ozone after a storm and the faint perfume of night-blooming flowers.


    "Good morning, ss. I am Professor Sylphania Jovienne Ang¨¦lique. I will be teaching you Basic Cultivation."


    Her voice was low and musical, each word resonating with rity, as though whispered directly into the mind of every listener. The cadets blinked back into awareness, the spell broken, the room alive once more.

 Chapter 229: Basics of Cultivation

    <h4>Chapter 229: Basics of Cultivation</h4>


    "You may address me as Professor Sylpha, just as my colleagues do," Professor Sylphania Jovienne Ang¨¦lique said, her voice like music drifting across the still air. "I am of the Fairy race. Some of you may know me already, but that does not matter here. In this academy, I am not a fairy before you... I am your professor. And I will not discriminate among my cadets on any basis."


    She allowed the silence to linger for a breath before continuing.


    "Let us begin. Cultivation is a vast and endless subject. But for now, all you need are the foundations... how to awaken, how to ascend, and how to take your first steps along this path. I will guide you through the essentials, but you must study your textbooks afterward. Each of you has been given a copy in your dormitory."


    She lifted the book in her hand, then set it down.


    "Cultivation," she said, "is the art of improving health, lengthening life, and forging power. It is the awakening of what sleeps within you. It is a discipline of body, mind, and soul. You will learn to draw energy into your body, shape it into a core, and use it to temper your flesh, refine your spirit, and purify the energy itself."


    Her eyes swept across the room.


    "All beings begin as mortals. No matter how high they riseter, no matter their race or lineage... in Midgard, all must begin at the mortal stage. A mortal is not defined by species, but byck. By spiritual poverty. Mortals are bound by nothing more than the physical and chemicalws of this world, blind to the higherws of energy and soul that weave the multiverse."


    Her gaze sharpened.


    "The difference begins with awakening. A dormant bloodline must be stirred awake... through potion or ritual. That potion is exclusive to this academy, for it must be administered in conditions that only we can provide. Every one of you will be given the chance to drink it in due time. Those of you already awakened will feel your bloodline strengthened. Those still dormant will finally feel the fire of your heritage ignite."


    The cadets were utterly silent, caught in her words.


    "Awakening," she went on, "is Stage Zero¡¯s end, the unlocking of a door long hidden within you. It is the spark that lights your soul. Until then, you are bound¡ªyour potential sealed. With awakening, you step beyond mere biology and step onto the true path."


    Her lips curved into a faint smile.


    "When your bloodline awakens, it is not a nk page. It stirs with affinity... the echo of your inherited power. Affinity is the nature of your spiritual energy, the form your strength will most easily take. It shapes the techniques you can master and the way your energy manifests. Common affinities include Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Ice, Lightning, Light, and Shadow."


    She paused, allowing the words to settle, then raised a finger in warning.


    "Be wary of confusion. Affinity is not the same as elemental magic. Your affinity is raw... it is your nature. After awakening, you may channel it in simple ways, but that is not magic. Elemental magic arises only once you form your core in the Trial of Yggdrasil. There, the energy you draw in takes on the tint of your affinity. When cultivated, shaped by your will, and released as a spell, that is true elemental magic."


    Her gaze softened as she noticed the bewildered looks among the cadets.


    "Do not be troubled if this seems abstract now," she said gently. "Understanding wille in time. For today, remember only this: awakening is the spark, affinity is its colour, and cultivation is the path that carries you forward."


    Her tone grew firm again.


    "There are nine known stages of cultivation. Stage Zero, the Mortal. Stage One, the Awakened. After the Trial of Yggdrasiles Stage Two, the Ascendant. Beyond that, Stage Three... the Saint. In this course, I will take you through the path up to the Saint level. What lies beyond... will wait for another time."


    She continued, her voice carrying the weight of inevitability.


    "Now, we will discuss whates next... the path of the Ascendant. This is Stage Two, where you cease to be merely Awakened and begin your true transformation. Stage Two is not a single step, but five distinct levels of mastery over self and energy. It is the journey of building your foundation. Remember this: a weak foundation means a weak future. There are no shortcuts. You will face countless dangers and endure relentlessbour to forge a foundation strong enough to support your cultivation. Only then will your future path open."


    She allowed her gaze to sweep across the silent hall before going on.


    "The first level is the Core Ascendant. This is your first and most critical trial. You will enter the Trial of Yggdrasil. Seed, and you will form a Core within your lower abdomen. That Core is your furnace... your reservoir of power. Its quality is revealed in its colour: Red, Yellow, Green, or Blue. This tier reflects its density, capacity, and purity. A Red Core is fragile, leaky. A Blue Core is a stable, wless reactor. The trial decides your starting point. Mark this well: if you begin with Red, you must painstakingly refine it all the way to Blue before you can advance securely."


    Her expression hardened as she moved on.


    "The second level is the Energy Ascendant. Once your Core is stable, you must learn to wield its power. For this, you will journey to Molgrath, where the air thrums with rich spiritual energy. There, you will forge Spirit Veins... the channels that carry energy from your Core throughout your body. These veins refine your physique, sharpen your senses, and allow you to actively channel energy into techniques. Without Spirit Veins, you are a battery with no wires. With them, you are a living circuit,plete and whole."


    Her tone softened, but her eyes glinted with warning.


    "The third level is the Soul Ascendant. Here, you turn inward. Power without control is chaos. You will refine your soul... your will, your intent, your very consciousness. A strong soul grants mastery over your energy, shields you from mental assault, and unveils the unseen truths of the world. A mighty body with a feeble soul is nothing but a puppet, waiting for a stronger will to seize it."


    She let the silence deepen before she spoke again.


    "The fourth level is the Spirit Ascendant. At this stage, you refine the energy itself. You purify the spiritual current within your veins, stripping away its impurities until every droplet is potent and pristine. A single spark of refined energy from a Spirit Ascendant outweighs torrents of crude power from a Core Ascendant. Purity defines the true force of every technique you will ever cast."


    Her gaze sharpened, her voice ringing like tempered steel.


    "The fifth and final level of Stage Two is Perfect Harmonisation. Here, you unite the four pirs of your being... Core, Body and Spirit Veins, Soul, and Energy... into seamless resonance. When these aspects move as one, you beplete. Perfect. It is this harmony that calls down the final trial: the Tribtion. A storm of heaven and earth, a cataclysm that tests your very existence. Should you endure it, you are not merely advanced... you are reborn. You be a Saint."


    She looked to the cadets in the front row, her eyes like piercing stars.


    "What does this mean? A Saint is no longer bound by flesh and spirit as you know them. Your body bes a vessel of conscious energy. The power you once struggled to channel flows as naturally as breath. You begin to perceive the deeperws... the flow of time, the weave of space, the song of energy itself. But understand this: such beings cannot remain here."


    She drew herself up, her voice a resonant chord that filled the theatre.


    "Let me be clear. There are no Saints on Midgard."


    Hearing this, many cadets nced at one another with puzzled gazes, as though seeking reassurance that they had heard correctly.


    Professor Sylpha¡¯s voice flowed on, calm yet unyielding.


    "Midgard is a delicate ecosystem. Its spiritual energy is thin, its reality fragile. A Saint is not simply powerful... they are a singrity of power. Our very existence bends the fabric of this world. It is not a matter ofws or decrees; it is a truth as immutable as gravity, as inevitable as water seeking its level. Upon ascension, Midgard itself rejects us. The world will not hold us. We are pulled away, inexorably, to the realm of our Tribtion. That ce bes our Anchor. It bes our new reality."


    The silence in the lecture theatre grew taut, a string drawn to breaking point.


    She allowed herself a measured breath before continuing.


    "A Saint may return to Midgard, yes... but only for moments, and at terrible cost. We must smother our power, crush it down, suffocate it into the shape of a Peak Level Five Ascendant. Imagine a giant forced to wear a child¡¯s clothes... every breath a strain, every step a torment. To unleash our true strength here would be catastrophic, tearing this world asunder."


    Her gaze swept the hall, sharp as moonlight on ss.


    "Understand this: the path of cultivation does not end with glory in Midgard. It ends in exile, into higher worlds where your existence is no longer a burden. You strive toward power that will one day demand you leave everything you know behind... your homes, your families, your very roots. This is the sacrifice of Sainthood. This is the price of ultimate power."


    A weight seemed to press upon every cadet¡¯s chest. The words lingered long after her voice fell silent.


    Atst, she gathered her book and her tab with unhurried grace. "That is all for today. Read your textbook to deepen your understanding. Next ss, we will examine each stage in detail."


    She turned and walked out, the faint perfume of night-blooming flowers trailed behind her, haunting the room even after she had gone.

 Chapter 230: Course Selection

    <h4>Chapter 230: Course Selection</h4>


    The first ss with Professor Sylpha had been so absorbing, so heavy with knowledge and presence, that most cadets hadn¡¯t even noticed the hours slipping past. It was only when she left that the spell broke, and the lecture theatre filled with the shuffle of movement, the scrape of chairs, the murmur of voices ready to spill out into the corridors.


    But just as they were about to exit, a melodic voice crackled from the beautiful speaker embedded above the stage.


    "Cadets, you have now been assigned your Major and Optional Courses. Each of you mustplete two Mandatory Courses... Basics of Cultivation and Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law. You must also choose one Major Course, based on your elemental affinity, and two Optional Courses of your choice in order to pass the term. Please press the blue button on your personal device for further instructions."


    A ripple of curiosity swept through the hall. Eleanor, who had risen with the others, sank back into her seat and tapped the blue button on her wrist device. A translucent screen unfurled before her eyes.


    [Course Selection: Primary Term]


    Mandatory Courses:


    1. Basics of Cultivation


    2. Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law


    Major Course: Contact the Department of Combat to choose your discipline.


    Optional Courses: Select any two within five days:


    1. Introduction to Alchemy


    2. Basics of Forge


    3. Cultivation History and Paths


    4. Healing Arts


    5. Introduction to Formation and Arrays


    6. Wilderness Survival


    7. Fundamentals of Psionics


    8. Magical Botany & Herbology


    9. Music of the Spheres


    10. Familiar Handling & Care


    Instruction: Contact relevant departments for further inquiries. Your academic profile will now be essible on this screen.


    [Tap the blue button to open or close the screen.]


    Eleanor exhaled through her nose. As expected, no alchemy... no forging. "Nora," she asked in her mind, "what do you think?"


    Nora¡¯s voice answered at once, calm and analytical. "Master, this was predictable. Without fire-rted ability, alchemy and forging are closed to you. But notice... Fundamentals of Psionics has been offered. The academy clearly recognised your bloodline. They must be expecting you to take it, and I advise you to do so."


    Nora¡¯s tone sharpened slightly. "As for your second optional, all four are valuable. Cultivation History and Paths and Familiar Handling & Care you can studyter, from books. Introduction to Formation and Arrays suits me... I will excel at the calctions. But Wilderness Survival is critical for you. Your Trial in Vanaheim will not forgive ignorance of the wild. So, my rmendation is Psionics and Survival. The final choice is yours."


    Eleanor closed the screen with a soft tap, lips tightening in thought. The hum of voices around her seemed very far away.


    Eleanor thought for a moment, then said in her mind, "We don¡¯t have any more mandatory sses today. Let¡¯s head to the Department of Combat and select my major. There are no textbooks given for that subject in my dorm; maybe they¡¯ll have a library. After that... we¡¯ll decide what¡¯s next."


    "Good decision," Nora agreed smoothly in her mind.


    From beside her, Maira leaned in, curiosity in her eyes. "Eleanor, which optional courses did you pick?" Her seat was close, thanks to their cadet number sequence.


    "I haven¡¯t confirmed yet," Eleanor replied. "But I¡¯m leaning toward Fundamentals of Psionics and Wilderness Survival."


    Maira tilted her head, puzzled. "Psionics? I¡¯ve never even heard of that course."


    Eleanor kept her tone even. "It¡¯s not usually offered to first-terms. You¡¯ll see itter if you return for advanced studies."


    Before Maira could ask more, Kiara and Ophelia came up behind them, catching the tail of the conversation. Ophelia spoke first. "Ma¡¯am, if you¡¯re taking Wilderness Survival, I¡¯ll join that ss too. My major is under the Department of Shadow, so I¡¯ll usebat as one of my optionals."


    Eleanor raised a brow. "Combat is avable as an optional for you?"


    Ophelia nodded. "Yes. One of the choices."


    Eleanor gave a small smile. "I don¡¯t have that luxury. Combat¡¯s my major. No elemental affinity means the academy expects me to learn it properly. Honestly, I like their system. They¡¯re not just teaching us... they¡¯re preparing us for the real threats ahead. I¡¯m heading to the Combat Department now. You¡¯re wee toe along."


    "I¡¯ll takebat too," Maira decided quickly. "Let¡¯s go together. But why Wilderness Survival, Eleanor? I was thinking about Familiar Handling & Care. I¡¯ve always wanted a pet."


    Eleanor¡¯s eyes softened, but her voice remained firm. "Survival is for the unknown. We all know our trial will be in Vanaheim, but not what we¡¯ll face there. Noplete guides. No help on that spot. I¡¯d rather be prepared for every disaster than hope forfort. That¡¯s why I chose it."


    She let her words hang for a moment before adding, "But don¡¯t let me sway you. Choose what calls to you. If you love familiars, take that ss. It¡¯ll be useful after your trial, when you go to Molgrath to stabilize your core... you¡¯ll have the chance to bond with one then."


    Before the group could move, another voice called from the doorway. Jaciara greeted them politely, then turned to Maira. "Young Miss, we need to visit the Water School. Your mother gave strict instructions that we meet a professor there immediately."


    Maira¡¯s face fell, and she scratched her head sheepishly. "Oh! Ipletely forgot. You¡¯re right. We should go there first." She looked back to Eleanor apologetically. "Then we¡¯ll meet you at the Combat Departmentter."


    Eleanor nodded once. "Go on. We¡¯ll see each otherter."


    And with that, the group naturally split... one headed toward therge dome of the Water School, the other toward the simple building of the Combat Department.


    ***


    The Department of Combat stood not far from the main academy building, apact three-story building like others in the academy. Its design mirrored the academy¡¯s other buildings... red bricks, tall windows, and a sign bearing the name of the institution. At the entrance, a in iron sign dered its purpose in bold letters: Department of Combat.


    No embellishment. No exquisite patterns. Just proper functional information.


    Eleanor, Kiara, and Ophelia stepped through the doors into a wide reception hall. The air smelled faintly of oil, leather, and steel. Sunlight nted across polished floors where a few cadets moved with a mix of nerves and excitement. At the far end of the hall sat a white-robed official behind a desk marked with a neat wooden sign: Reception. A cluster of students shuffled before her, flipping through slim booklets.


    The three approached the desk. "Good morning, Miss. We came to choose ourbat sses," Eleanor said.


    The receptionist looked up with a practiced smile... polite, professional, but not unkind. "Wee, cadets. Do you have preferred weapons, or would you like to know more before choosing?"


    "I prefer daggers," Ophelia replied without hesitation.


    "Archery," Kiara said firmly.


    Eleanor gave a small, wry smile. "I haven¡¯t decided. Combat is my major course, so I¡¯ll need guidance."


    "Ah... you are a non-elemental." The woman¡¯s tone softened, respectful but matter-of-fact. "Then please wait just a moment. You¡¯ll choose after your friends."


    She turned to Kiara and Ophelia. "Are you absolutely certain of your preferences? Once entered, your school assignment is locked for this term."


    Both nodded without wavering.


    "Very well. ce your device on the scanner."


    Kiara went first, pressing her wrist device to the small panel. The receptionist tapped rapidly at herptop. "Kiara Raynor, Cadet number 10156672... admitted to the Archery School. This is now your major subject. You must pass its examinations at term¡¯s end."


    Next came Ophelia.


    "Ophelia nc, Cadet number 10156675... admitted to the School of Close Quarters Combat. This will count as your optional subject. Term examination required as well."


    When it was Eleanor¡¯s turn, the receptionist studied her for a moment. "You, I suspect, are neither dagger nor bow. We offer a broad range of weapons here... spears, sabers, axes, war hammers, halberds, whips, even unarmed disciplines. Take this booklet and review it." She slid a slim text across the desk. "Seats are over there. If you have questions, I¡¯ll be here."


    She turned back to the others. "Your schools are upstairs on the first floor. Archery is room 104, Close Quarters is room 102."


    The three thanked her and split paths. Kiara and Ophelia headed upstairs while Eleanor settled into a chair with the booklet.


    She leafed through the pages. The sheer variety impressed her: The School of the Saber, The School of the Axe, The School of the Spear, The School of the War Hammer, The School of the Halberd, The School of the Urumi & Whip, The School of Mixed Martial Arts, The School of Close Quarters Combat, and The Archery School.


    Eleanor dismissed most without much thought... sabers and axes felt cumbersome, hammers and halberds too brute for ady like her, whips too unwieldy. That left her between spear and mixed martial arts. Both had merit. Both could suit her bloodline¡¯s precision and instincts. She frowned, lost in thought... until the final page made her still.


    At the bottom, beneath lists of instructors and offices, was a single name... Head of the Combat Department: Supreme Grandmaster Sc¨¢thach na hAlpa.


    Her eyes lingered. The name thrummed like a chord pulled from legend.


    She rose, walked back to the desk, and leaned forward slightly. "Excuse me, Miss. I¡¯d like to ask something about the head of the department."


    The receptionist looked up from her typing. "What do you want to know?"


    Eleanor¡¯s voice was quiet but edged with awe. "Is she really... The Sc¨¢thach? The Witch of D¨²n Sc¨¢ith?"


    The woman¡¯s lips curved in a rare smile, pride gleaming in her eyes. "Yes. She is the one."

 Chapter 231: The Supreme Grandmaster

    <h4>Chapter 231: The Supreme Grandmaster</h4>


    The union of Prince ¨¢rd-Greimne of the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann and Derb¨¢il, the mortal princess of D¨¢l Riata, was a quiet rebellion against the order of both their worlds. He, a being of radiant light and ancient power, and she, a woman of fleeting beauty and indomitable spirit, carved out a life together not in the splendour of a court, but in istion on the mist-veiled Isle of Skye. There, at the edge of the world, they raised their daughter... Sc¨¢thach.


    Sc¨¢thach was born as a mortal human, like her mother. She bore her mother¡¯s delicate features but none of her father¡¯s innate, immortal power. Yet ¨¢rd-Greimne did not awaken her dormant bloodline. Instead, he trained her, moulding flesh and spirit until she could stand toe to toe with his own kind. He felt the spiritual energy of Midgard thinning, draining away like sand through a ss, leaving his people wan and faint, their forms bing little more than echoes. The age of the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann was ending. Soon, they would be forced to depart for realms where their kind could still endure.


    Knowing this, ¨¢rd-Greimne set himself to a single purpose... forging his human daughter into the weapon that would guard the world they must abandon. He was not merely her father, but her unyielding master of arms. He ced a sword in her hands before she could read, taught her the spear before she knew the weight of rtionships. He drilled her in the strategies of the Tuatha D¨¦, the breaking of formations, the unravelling of armies... knowledge meant for god-generals, not mortal children. Her childhood was not one ofughter or y, but of ceaseless discipline. Her body became a de honed to perfection; her mind, the sharp edge of amander¡¯s will.


    Then came the day of the Great Exodus. The spiritual energy in Midgard grew still and thin as thest of the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann gathered, their figures wavering like candle mes in a dying wind. ¨¢rd-Greimne stood before his daughter one final time. Before him was the supreme warrior he had forged, a masterpiece of mortal flesh and unyielding spirit. But he knew it was not enough. To guard Midgard against the horrors that woulde crawling from the void, she would need more. She would need to be more.


    cing his hands upon her shoulders, ¨¢rd-Greimne did not speak farewell. Instead, he reached into the zing core of his divine essence and ignited the dormant bloodline within her. The transformation was agony... an unmaking and remaking. Sc¨¢thach¡¯s mortal frame cracked under the pressure of divinity, then reformed in glory. Her skin shimmered with an inner light, her hair cascaded in streams of pale gold and silver, and her once-human eyes deepened into orbs that mirrored the void between stars. Supreme power, the inheritance of the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann, surged through her veins like a flood.


    He named her Protector of Midgard, Warden of the Last Defence, the Fortress of Shadows. Then, without a backward nce, he turned and walked among his fading kin. Together, the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann dissolved into brilliance, their procession vanishing into the veils of eternity.


    Sc¨¢thach stood alone upon the silent ramparts of D¨²n Sc¨¢ith. Thest of the old gods was gone. In their ce remained the first... and only representative of the new. No longer merely a daughter, no longer merely a warrior, she was shield and sword both, oath and inheritance incarnate. She was Midgard¡¯s final promise of the Tuatha D¨¦ Danann.


    Her domain, D¨²n Sc¨¢ith, became the outpost of the old order¡¯s memory. There she did not wither into legend but fought against it. She gathered disciples... human, other races of this world... and shaped them into warriors. The exalted doctrines of the Tuatha D¨¦, once reserved for immortals, she re-forged into a curriculum mortal could bear, so their hands might wield god-born arts.


    Her purpose was singr and unyielding... to remain the eternal Warden of Midgard. She foresaw the¡¯s thinning spirit as more than decay; it was a beacon, a lure for predators from the outer voids. A world stripped of its gods would be easy prey. In solitude, she became the architect of Midgard¡¯s defence, transforming her fortress into an academy, and her students into the first andst line of resistance.


    For centuries, Sc¨¢thach¡¯s fortress produced generals and warlords who held Midgard¡¯s borders against prowling threats from the void. Yet even she, eternal and unyielding, felt the weight of repetition. Restlessness stirred within her. To sharpen herself beyond the limits of her own doctrine, she departed on a world-spanning expedition.


    Across the world, countless ces and races she wandered. She studied the martial traditions of supernatural races, fought with their champions, tested herself in their arenas, and refined her art with every duel. Where she went, she left not only mastery but wisdom, reshaping the warriors she encountered. By the time she returned, she was no longer merely Midgard¡¯s Warden. She had be the teacher of worlds... the Supreme Grandmaster.


    When the supernatural races finally set aside their rivalries to unite against the looming invasion from beyond the stars, Yggdrasil itself petitioned her. It called for Sc¨¢thach to lead as General of the Allied Midgard Army. But she refused without hesitation. Her oath was older than Yggdrasil¡¯s plea... she had sworn to her father that she would remain in Midgard as its final bastion, not march to Molgrath for open war. Her promise was iron.


    Later, when the great academy was raised in Kvernheim to forge the next generation of defenders, the allied forces begged her to serve as Principal. Yet she surprised them. Sc¨¢thach did not hunger for crowns or thrones. She wished only to instruct, to find and shape the next prodigy who might inherit the legacy she carried. Thus, the academy yielded, naming her instead as the Head of the Department of Combat, a master among masters, free to teach as she willed.


    At Yggdrasil¡¯s decree, the ancient fortress of D¨²n Sc¨¢ith was bound to Kvernheim by a living link, so that Sc¨¢thach might dwell in her domain yet step into the academy at will. And so, the Witch of D¨²n Sc¨¢ith, immortal teacher and Warden of Shadows, became part of the academy¡¯s beating heart.


    ***


    While Sc¨¢thach was a master of all arms, a few weapons clung to her legend more tightly than others. Her most famous was the spear, the G¨¢e Bolg, a weapon said to pierce destiny itself. She was also renowned for the ideb, the ssic double-edged sword. But Eleanor knew that Sc¨¢thach¡¯s art was never only about weapons. It was about mastery¡ªprecision, psychological warfare, and techniques so advanced they seemed supernatural.


    Though the world remembered her for her spearmanship, Eleanor suspected that the Grandmaster¡¯s true passion had always been something else: the raw, unadorned struggle of Mixed Martial Arts. Her father had trained her not to rely on inherited power, but to hone her mortal body until it transcended its limits. And Eleanor understood a truth few spoke aloud: the ultimate form of spearmanship was not wielding a spear¡ªit was bing one.


    Her choice was clear. She enrolled in the School of Mixed Martial Arts, with a quiet resolution to take extra sses in the Spear School as well. Afterpleting the formalities, she checked her updated course list:


    [Course Selection: Primary Term]


    Mandatory Courses:


    1. Basics of Cultivation


    2. Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law


    Major Course: Department of Combat (School of Mixed Martial Arts)


    Optional Courses: Two selections pending within five days


    1. Introduction to Alchemy


    2. Basics of Forge


    3. Cultivation History and Paths


    4. Healing Arts


    5. Introduction to Formation and Arrays


    6. Wilderness Survival


    7. Fundamentals of Psionics


    8. Magical Botany & Herbology


    9. Music of the Spheres


    10. Familiar Handling & Care


    The receptionist¡¯s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. "Please proceed to room 205 on the second floor. Your school office will provide further instructions."


    Closing the screen and thanking the receptionist, Eleanor climbed the stairs. Room 205 stood at the end of the corridor, its door unremarkable, its interior strangely deste. Dust and silence greeted her. The ce felt abandoned.


    "Am I in the right room? Why isn¡¯t anyone here?" she muttered under her breath.


    "You are," Nora answered in her mind. "But you are not alone. Someone is in the side chamber, meditating."


    Eleanor cleared her throat and spoke into the emptiness. "Hello? I¡¯vee to enrol in the School of Mixed Martial Arts. Is anyone here?"


    For a moment, nothing stirred. Then came the sound of movement, and a figure emerged from the dark room. An old man, draped in a violet robe, who seemed to ripple with vtile power, stepped forward. His bronzed skin stretched over muscles knotted like ship¡¯s rope. His face bore the history of violence... a ttened nose, a cauliflower ear, scars like rivulets of old battles. Yet it was not his scars that chilled Eleanor for an instant... it was his eyes. Calm, calcting, and predatory. Eyes that had measured countless opponents and ended more than a few.


    He rolled his shoulders, the motion smooth, feline, almost careless, and then smiled. But the smile did not reach his words.


    "A cadet in her primary term, enrolling here? Unusual. If you want to learn about our school, go to the library. I have better things to do."


    Eleanor bowed her head slightly, her voice respectful yet steady. "Forgive the intrusion, sir. I¡¯ve already enrolled. I came to report."


    This time the manughed, and it was real. Deep, booming, unrestrained. "You¡¯ve got spirit, girl. But are you certain? These days, nobody touches this school until their return from Molgrath. Everyone wants swords, spears, shy things. Why would you choose bare hands over shining steel?"


    Eleanor met his gaze without wavering. "Because I don¡¯t want to wield a weapon. I want to be one. And I believe this is the right ce."


    The man¡¯s eyes softened, though his presence remained sharp as a drawn de. He gave a slow nod. "Good. Good. That¡¯s the answer I wanted to hear for many years." He straightened his robe and spoke with deliberate weight. "I am Arrichion, Instructor of the Primary Term. Wee to the school."


    Eleanor¡¯s breath caught. She spoke before she could stop herself. "Arrichion of Phigalia?"


    The man¡¯s grin returned, this time with a spark of nostalgia. "I didn¡¯t think, after so many centuries, that anyone would still remember that name. Surprising."

 Chapter 232: The Tower of Legends

    <h4>Chapter 232: The Tower of Legends</h4>


    In the Ascendance Academy of Midgard,bat instructors held the same prestige as professors of other departments. Arrichion¡¯s presence there was both strange and remarkable. He had only returned to Midgard a few years earlier, after being gravely wounded in battle on Molgrath. The healers who saved him had prescribed ten years of rehabilitation before he could rejoin the frontlines. Restless and unwilling to waste time, he had epted a post at the Academy. Though his cultivation was suppressed by Midgard¡¯s thin energy, his skill remained unmatched.


    When Eleanor appeared in his school, a cadet choosing Mixed Martial Arts as her major in her very first term, Arrichion¡¯s interest was piqued. Few had done so in centuries. He had no idea of her Mind Reaver bloodline, her uncanny ability to grasp and retain knowledge instantly... but when he saw how quickly she absorbed every lesson, he pushed her further. By the time their first session ended, she had received more than just a wee: she had been given private tutoring by one of history¡¯s deadliest fighters.


    He even sent her away with a stack of books, each a cornerstone of strategy andbat. "On Anatomical Vulnerabilities: A Treatise on Every Species" by Graham Valerius. "The Art of War" by Sun Tzu. "Kic Principles: Force Redirection for Non-Humanoid Physiologies" by Grommash. "History of the Peloponnesian War" by Thucydides. "The Conquest of Gaul" by Julius Caesar. "Strategy: A History" by Lawrence Freedman. And "Lycanthropic Warfare" by Kaelen Volsung.


    By the time Eleanor returned to the reception, it was already lunchtime, and others were gone. She was told Ophelia and Kiara had finished their enrolment and left for the shadow school. Her stomach growled, so she headed for the dining hall.


    A crowd of cadets had gathered before the doors of the dining hall, which were still closed. Amidst the chatter, Eleanor spotted familiar faces... Ophelia, Kiara, and Maira, gossiping at a side.


    Before she could join them, Ophelia saw and waved her over. "Ma¡¯am! What happened in thebat department? We heard from the receptionist that you enrolled in Mixed Martial Arts and went to visit the school. Then you never came back. We waited, but you vanished. Where were you?"


    Eleanor¡¯s lips curved faintly. "I was the only cadet in three years to join Mixed Martial Arts in the primary term. The instructor for this term was Arrichion of Phigalia. He... gave me a long private lesson."


    Ophelia tilted her head, puzzled. Before she could respond, Joshua Cordillera¡¯s voice cut in from behind. He had overheard, and his eyes were wide with excitement. "No way! Arrichion of Phigalia? The ancient warrior? He must be over two thousand years old by now!"


    "Who is this Arrichion of Phigalia?" Ophelia asked, blinking at Joshua¡¯s reaction.


    Eleanor turned her gaze toward her. "Official records say he was a champion of Mixed Martial Arts in the ancient Olympic Games. In truth, he was a war hero of Greece... his fame came not just from arenas, but from countless real battles. He was a legend in both war and sport. And his race..." She paused, letting the suspense hang. "...he¡¯s a vampire."


    Ophelia, Kiara, Joshua, and Maira all stared at her in shock. Their mouths moved, but no words came. Eleanor decided to press their disbelief further.


    "Do you know who the head of thebat department is?" she asked.


    <fnaa96> Original content can be found at find?novel</fnaa96>


    "Who?"


    "I don¡¯t know."


    "No."


    "Who?"


    The four answered in unison, their confusion palpable.


    Eleanor¡¯s expression ttened into its usual deadpan. "Supreme Grandmaster Sc¨¢thach."


    Joshua¡¯s brows shot up. "The Witch of D¨²n Sc¨¢ith?"


    Eleanor gave a single, steady nod. "Yes."


    Joshua nearly shouted, "No way!" and the others joined him, exmations bursting from their lips. "Unbelievable! Impossible!"


    "I saw her name in the booklet thebat department gave me," Eleanor exined calmly. "Later, I asked the receptionist to confirm."


    The group fell into stunned silence. Around them, cadets continued to gossip about rankings and courses, oblivious to the fact that the most terrifying legends of myth were now their professors.


    ***


    After lunch, as Eleanor stepped out of the dining hall and prepared to head toward the Department of Mental Arts to enrol in one of her optional courses, a figure suddenly blocked her path.


    A tall and muscr boy, proud and sharp-eyed, raised a hand to stop her. His aura crackled faintly, like distant thunder. "I am Raijin Stormrider of the dragon race. You must be Eleanor Raynor, am I correct?"


    Eleanor met his gaze with polite calm. "Hello. I am Eleanor. How may I help you?"


    She had seen his type before... arrogant, spoiled, convinced the world owed them respect. In her short life she had already met too many proud young masters to count. There was no profit in provoking them with words. Only action ever shut them up.


    Raijin¡¯s lip curled. "You scored higher than me in the Initiation Ceremony. Just by looking at you, anyone can see you¡¯re weaker. I demand you step down voluntarily and yield your third-ce ranking to me." His tone dripped disdain, his confidence absolute.


    Eleanor¡¯s expression did not flicker. Her voice was t, almost bored. "And if I don¡¯t?"


    "Then you will duel me," Raijin dered. "But not in some trivial spar. We will settle it in the Tower of Legends. Do you dare?"


    That gave Eleanor pause. She hadn¡¯t expected him to use the Tower for a duel. She had already read about it in her guidebook... a hundred floors of escting challenges meant to draw out a cadet¡¯s full potential. In all the academy¡¯s history, no one had passed the nieth floor. Students normally attempted the Tower at the end of a term, after months of training.


    But Raijin wanted to use it now, as a stage for pride.


    Eleanor studied his smug face, then nodded. "Fine. The Tower it is. But we adjust the rules. You said if you win, I give you my position as third. What happens if I win? I want all the points you earned in the trial."


    Raijin let out a sharpugh. "Hah! You can have those measly points. As if you¡¯ll ever win! Remember who I am... I am a dragon. A dragon!"


    Their voices had drawn attention. By now, a crowd of cadets had gathered, murmuring in excitement. A duel in the Tower of Legends was unheard of this early in the term.


    When the terms were set, Raijin strode toward the Combat Department with arrogant confidence, Eleanor walking calmly beside him. The spectators followed, buzzing with anticipation.


    At the reception desk, the woman in white robes looked up from her work, startled by the noise of so many cadets pressing into the lobby. Before she could ask, Raijin spoke loudly, puffing his chest.


    "We will be challenging the Tower of Legends," he announced. "This will be a duel between us. The terms are set... when I win, this lowly wolf will surrender her third-ce ranking to me. Please arrange it immediately."


    Eleanor added, her tone even, "And if I win, I im all of his points."


    The receptionist blinked, utterly taken aback. Her gaze flicked between the arrogant dragon and the quiet werewolf. She raised a finger toward Raijin and asked Eleanor. "You... you¡¯repeting against him?"


    Eleanor simply nodded.


    The receptionist¡¯s expression hardened into professionalism. "Very well. Challenging the Tower requires one hundred points, and the duel contract an additional five. Each of you must provide one hundred and five points."


    Without hesitation, both Eleanor and Raijin extended their wrists. Their devices chimed as the scanner passed over them. The receptionist confirmed the deduction with swift keystrokes, then rose from her desk.


    "Follow me to the Tower chamber."


    She led them down a long, silent corridor on the ground floor. A line of ck doors stood at the far end, five in total, each marked only by a glowing number. The crowd of cadets tried to follow, but the receptionist stopped them with a raised hand.


    "You cannot enter. If you wish to watch their progress, wait in the lobby. The screen will update their status in real time."


    Disappointed murmurs rippled through the group, but soon the cadets settled into chairs, buzzing with anticipation. It was the first duel of their batch; no one wanted to miss a moment.


    Meanwhile, at the end of the corridor, the receptionist gestured to the doors. "Each chamber contains a capsule. The process is identical to your Initiation Ceremony. Enter, and you will be transported to the base of the Tower."


    Raijin stepped forward first, pushing into the nearest room with the impatience of a predator tasting victory in advance. The door shut behind him with a hiss.


    Eleanor waited until thest door at the end of the line, then entered calmly. Inside stood the same capsule... smooth, metallic, almost coffin-like. She opened the lid,y down within, and felt it seal over her.


    The world dropped away. A violent pull tugged at her soul, dragging her through darkness.


    Then her feet found solid ground. She stood before a massive door, its surface etched with an ancient aura that seemed alive.


    Before she could fully take in her surroundings, a woman¡¯s voice resonated within her mind... gentle, yet absolute.


    "Wee to the Tower of Legends. The Tower contains one hundred levels, each presenting challenges of increasing difficulty. You may fight your way upward or quit when you deem it beyond you. Death within the Tower will not im you... you will be returned to your space capsule. At any time, you may speak aloud that you quit, and you will be removed. Challenger will have ten minutes to pass each level or the Challenger will automatically fail."


    The voice paused, then continued, crisp as an oath:


    "Conquer twenty-five levels, and you shall be awarded one hundred points. Conquer fifty, and you shall gain one thousand. At seventy-five, ten thousand. At the hundredth floor, one million points, and your name will be etched forever on the Academy¡¯s Board of Legends. No hints will be given. No guidance offered. If you wish to continue, step through the door."


    For a moment, Eleanor simply stood there in the stillness, weighing the enormity of it. Then, without hesitation, she pushed the door open. The world beyond struck her senses all at once.


    The sharp tang of salt filled her nose. A roaring ocean stretched before her, its waves crashing in violent rhythm. Behind her loomed cliffs of sheer stone, cutting off any retreat. Before her stretched only sand, sea, and storm.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 233: Defeating an Army

    <h4>Chapter 233: Defeating an Army</h4>


    In thebat department lobby, more than twenty cadets sat waiting, their attention glued to the nk screen on the far wall. Eleanor¡¯s friends cheered for her, but they were the minority. Almost everyone else murmured in support of Raijin Astrape Stormrider. They could hardly be med... few believed a werewolf could defeat a dragon, and certainly not a lightning dragon.


    The moment Raijin entered his capsule, the screen flickered to life.


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) ¨C Level 0


    Barely a minuteter, the number shifted.


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) ¨C Level 1


    A ripple of excitement spread through the crowd.


    "Wow! As expected of a lightning dragon¡ªhe¡¯s already cleared the first floor!"


    "That was so fast! Most cadets take at least five minutes to finish the first!"


    Before the noise died down, a second name appeared on the screen.


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) ¨C Level 1


    <fnb4c4> Find the newest release on find?novel</fnb4c4>


    Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) ¨C Level 0


    Some raised their brows at the new addition, but their focus quickly returned to Raijin. Another minuteter, his rank climbed again.


    Level 2.


    Level 3.


    The numbers kept climbing, and with each ascension the crowd grew louder.


    "Unbelievable! He¡¯s not even taking a break!"


    "He really is a dragon!"


    Ten minutes into his challenge, Raijin had already conquered nine levels. Cadets gasped as the counter ticked higher. Word of his feat spread through the academy like fire. Because, there was another screen in the academy building showing the same results. Within minutes, dozens more students streamed into the lobby, all eager to witness his progress first-hand.


    When he reached the tenth level, the screen lingered longer than before. Whispers spread, tension mounting. Finally, the number changed... Level 10.


    The murmurs became cheers. "He did it! That floor has a troll, right? He still beat it in barely five minutes!"


    Excitement buzzed through the air, the crowd united in awe of Raijin¡¯s speed and strength. Meanwhile, Eleanor¡¯s name still glowed on the screen at Level 0, untouched.


    ***


    Eleanor lingered at level 0 until Raijin had already passed the tenth. The spectators in the lobby grew restless. Some sneered, convinced she was still struggling with the first challenge.


    "How could someone so weak dare to challenge the Tower of Legends?"


    "This is ridiculous. She hasn¡¯t even cleared the first level yet."


    Laughter rippled through the crowd. To them, Eleanor¡¯s performance was nothing but embarrassing.


    But inside the tower, Eleanor was seatedfortably on the beach, enjoying the violent sea. The salt wind tangled her silver hair as it whipped about her face. Two crocodilian monsters, groaning faintly, served as her makeshift chair. She hadn¡¯t killed them as they were harmless enough to pin... and she suspected that once she did, the level would end, and this view would vanish.


    She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring the untamed beauty. Only when the faint countdown marker in the corner of her vision neared its limit did she finally rise to her feet.


    "Sorry for that," she said gently. "I know you¡¯re not real. But thank you for thepany."


    With a single punch to each of their skulls, the monsters copsed. Their bodies dissolved into mist, and a staircase appeared, winding up the cliff face behind her. At the top waited a closed door. Eleanor dusted her hands and began the climb.


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) ¨C Level 10


    Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) ¨C Level 1


    She pushed the door open and stepped into the second level. A damp cave stretched before her, its walls slick with moss and ferns. Ten goblins, each clutching a crude club, shrieked and charged straight at her.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t bother to linger this time. In less than ten seconds, the cave floor was littered with broken goblin bodies. A staircase shimmered into existence at the far wall, and she moved briskly upwards.


    The next door opened into a high valley hemmed by mountains so vast their peaks tore at the clouds. The ground rumbled, and twenty skeleton warriors wed their way free from the soil, shields and swords ttering as they surrounded her.


    Their empty sockets red with flickering blue light before they gave a unified, rattling cry and surged forward.


    Eleanor didn¡¯t wait. She darted toward the nearest one and smashed it into fragments before the charge could close. Her sudden movement broke their rhythm. The formation faltered, and as they adjusted course, five of their number alreadyy shattered at her feet.


    She aimed every strike with precision. A punch to the skull or a crushing blow to the spine reduced skeletons to shards that would never rise again. She had read this trick in one of the books on her dormitory shelf, and the knowledge proved true... the ones she struck elsewhere slowly reassembled, dragging themselves upright to continue fighting.


    It took her nearly a minute to clear the level. Her body was unharmed, but her breathing had grown heavier. She steadied herself, inhaled deeply, then chose a shield and sword from the broken remains before ascending the staircase that opened in the mountain wall.


    The fourth level ced her in a shadowed forest. Three orcs lumbered toward her, snarling, their tusks glistening with spit. Compared to the ones she had faced during the initiation ceremony, these were sluggish, less disciplined. Her borrowed de cut them down within half a minute. She swapped her weapon for a sturdier orcish sword before stepping through the next door.


    The fifth level opened into a cavern where a massive spider descended from its web with furious screeches. Its many eyes burned with hunger as it struck at her from impossible angles. Eleanor kept moving, rolling beneath the jagged legs and shing at its joints. After nearly two exhausting minutes, the spider copsed with a shrill cry. She leaned against the cave wall, allowing herself a few precious breaths before moving on. She noted that the countdown only stopped once she opened the next door.


    The sixth level offered no reprieve. Two ogres, towering, heavy-bodied, and thick-skinned, stomped into view. Their grotesque heads loomed above her as they roared and charged. Eleanor kept light on her feet, circling, ducking under their swings. She drove her de into the weak points beneath their ribs, exploiting gaps in their defence. Within a minute, both copsed with the crash of falling boulders.


    She pushed forward into the seventh level and found herself standing beside a mistyke. Its waters rippled, and a three-headed hydra emerged, its serpentine necks weaving and hissing. Each head snapped at her with lethal speed. Eleanor remembered what she had read: cutting heads would achieve nothing. The beast would only regrow them. Its heart was the only way to end it.


    The hydra lunged, jaws wide, and she dove into the water. Power surged as Eleanor briefly invoked her bloodline, her body moving with preternatural precision. She slipped past the thrashing heads, forced herself against the beast¡¯s chest, and ripped through scale and flesh to seize its heart. With a final wrench, she tore it free.


    The hydra writhed and copsed, staining the water in dark red. Eleanor pulled herself onto the bank, soaked and panting, her limbs trembling from the strain of using her bloodline. She sat still for a time, resting, before finally pressing onward toward the next door.


    The next floor dropped her onto the shore of anotherke. Five crocodile beasts lunged the moment her feet touched the sand. They died quickly, their corpses dissolving before her eyes, and she pressed onward.


    The ninth floor brought thirty goblins swarming from the shadows, their clubs ttering. She cut them down in steady rhythm, only to find a hulking troll waiting for her on the tenth. That one forced her into a grinding battle... five minutes of sweat, blood, and grit before it finally copsed.


    The eleventh floor answered with fifty skeletons rising in unison. The twelfth gave her six orcs, and the thirteenth doubled the spiders. On the fourteenth she wrestled with five ogres, their massive bodies blocking every escape, and on the fifteenth, two hydras rose hissing from a cavern pool.


    The cycle continued, each set growing heavier. Ten crocodiles on one level, fifty goblins on the next, then seventy skeletons rattling in waves. Ten orcs followed, then three giant spiders dripping venom from their fangs. By the time she reached the twentieth level, she had faced down two trolls and in them in half the time it had taken before. Though fatigue gnawed at her limbs, her rhythm sharpened... her instincts cutting down wasted movement, her strikes falling with surgical precision.


    The twenty-first floor forced her to fight ten ogres and then three hydras back-to-back. After that, the rules shifted again. Mixed armies appeared... goblins rushing alongside skeletons, orcs nked by ogres, spiders weaving chaos through the charge. On the twenty-third floor, she carved through a host of mismatched monsters. On the twenty-fourth, a hydra roared over a tide of twenty-three crocodiles.


    Then she stepped onto the twenty-fifth floor.


    A narrow pass stretched between mountains. At the far end, a staircase rose to the door of ascension. But between her and that goal was a legion. Every creature she had faced so far was waiting... an amalgamation of the tower¡¯s trials made flesh.


    Her lips pressed thin. Without her bloodline activate, ten minutes would not be enough. She activated Overdrive. Power surged through her veins, her body a blur of ruthless efficiency. She cut, crushed, and tore through the horde, monsters falling one after another.


    When she reached the base of the staircase, the pass was littered with corpses... one hundred and fifty shattered skeletons, one hundred goblins, forty crocodiles, twenty ogres, twenty orcs, seven spiders, seven hydras, and three trolls. The ground and theke behind her ran red.


    She climbed the steps with calm precision, Overdrive strained her muscles. Less than five minutes had passed since the army had charged her. At the door, she finally let herself stop. She rested until the counter showed nine minutes and thirty seconds, drawing back her breath before stepping into the unknown of the twenty-sixth floor.


    At that very moment, Raijin¡¯s run ended. His avatar crumbled on the fiftieth level, and his consciousness was dragged back to his capsule.


    The screen in thebat department lobby flickered:


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) ¨C level 49 pleted)


    Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) ¨C level 25

 Chapter 234: A Ripple through the Academy

    <h4>Chapter 234: A Ripple through the Academy</h4>


    Several professors and instructors across the academy were notified of the duel in the Tower of Legends. For many, it was the ultimate test of strength for cadets, so they had standing requests to receive alerts whenever someone challenged the tower. Beside that, a great screen mounted on the academic building disyed live updates of ongoingpetitions and events. A small crowd of cadets gathered there, eager to witness how far their peers could climb. Professors, noticing the gathering, soon became aware of the challenge as well.


    Professors and instructors had ess to any academy event through their personal devices. The moment Raijin Stormrider ascended past the thirtieth floor, shock rippled through the faculty. It was a well-known fact that at that pointy two Bloodstone Gargants... monsters whose corrupted blood poisoned all it touched. They could only be in with precise killing blows that left no blood spilled, a feat nearly impossible for a newbie first-term cadet. Even many graduates rarely seeded at such a task.


    Among those notified was Supreme Grandmaster Sc¨¢thach herself. As head of the Combat Department, she received every tower alert, but she had configured her device to notify her only once a cadet passed the twenty-fifth floor. Mediocrity did not interest her. She sought only the extraordinary.


    The first alert she received that day bore Raijin¡¯s name. She was in meditation when the device pulsed, and though annoyed by the interruption, she checked his record:


    [Personal Database]


    Cadet Name: Raijin Astrape Stormrider


    Cadet Number: 10156601


    Institution: Ascendance Academy of Midgard


    Race: Dragon


    Bloodline: Sky-Lightning (Level 1)


    Cultivation Level: Awakened


    Academy Points: 2015


    Courses: Basics of Cultivation, Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law, Introduction to Lightning Attribute, Cultivation History and Paths, School of Swords


    Achievements: Rank 4 in the Initiation Ceremony


    Her interest waned almost instantly. A lightning dragon should, by her estimation, reach the fortieth floor without difficulty. Anything less marked him as weak among his kind. With that thought, she closed the record and returned to meditation, deciding she would only bother to look again if he managed to reach the fiftieth floor.


    It was muchter that her device chimed again. Expecting the dragon¡¯s progress, she opened the alert... only to be surprised. Another cadet had crossed the twenty-fifth floor.


    [Personal Database]


    Cadet Name: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor


    Cadet Number: 10156659


    Institution: Ascendance Academy of Midgard


    Race: Werewolf (Alpha)


    Bloodline: Mind Reaver (Level 1), Thunderbolt (Dormant)


    Cultivation Level: Awakened


    Academy Points: 2061


    Courses: Basics of Cultivation, Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law, School of Mixed Martial Arts, Optional I, Optional II


    Achievements: Rank 3 in the Initiation Ceremony


    Sc¨¢thach¡¯s eyes glimmered. "A Raynor alpha with a thunderbolt bloodline? That was unusual. Either the girl¡¯s n had concealed it, or one of her parents was from the Lychos line and had hidden the trait. In any case, the bloodline remained dormant," she thought.


    "Mixed Martial Arts," she murmured with a smile. "An amusing choice for a first-term cadet. Let¡¯s see if Arrichion has been earning his keep. I wonder how she fares without leaning on an element." With that, she closed the screen and folded back into meditation.


    Elsewhere, in the same dark chamber on the second floor of the Combat Department, Arrichion himself sat in silence. His awareness spread outward in steady waves as he recovered his strength. Though his device had buzzed with the same tower alerts, he dismissed them without thought. The academy flooded its instructors with notifications daily. He had no interest in bureaucracy... only in healing his battered body.


    ***


    The moment Eleanor stepped into the twenty-sixth level, her body crashed to the floor as though the weight of a mountain had fallen upon her. Her limbs pressed into the cold stone, muscles screaming, and she found she could not so much as lift a finger. Her breath came in ragged bursts. A quick nce at the corner of her vision showed the timer ticking away at its usual pace... merciless, unchanging.


    The chamber was stark and featureless, white walls enclosing her like a cage. No monsters lurked here, no weaponsy waiting. Only a staircase stood across from her, no more than twenty feet away.


    It took her nearly a minute to understand. "Gravity," she realised bitterly. "This isn¡¯t a fight. The challenge is to cross the room before the timer runs out."


    Her jaw clenched. "Damn it! That dragon must have known. Without monstrous physical strength, no one could pass this floor. And my bloodline..." She cursed inwardly. "I can¡¯t even call on it. I used it too recently. I¡¯ll need at least twenty minutes to recover. I walked right into a trap, and now I¡¯m paying for it."


    But self-reproach would win her nothing. Already more than a minute was gone. Gritting her teeth, she began testing the limits of her body under the crushing force. Slowly, deliberately, she shifted her weight, seeking any motion that might carry her toward the distant stair.


    ***


    Raijin Astrape Stormrider stepped out of the chamber and strode into the lobby. A cheer rose the moment he appeared. Though his face carried the faint shadow of disappointment... his run had ended at the fiftieth floor, in beneath the weight of an army greater than the one at twenty-five. But the praise of his peers washed it away like rain over stone.


    "Young Master Stormrider is incredible!"


    "That¡¯s what it means to be a true dragon!"


    "Level forty-nine at the very start of the term... imagine how far he¡¯ll reach by the end!"


    "If only I could do something like that. Sigh!"


    "Young Master, are you single?"


    "Don¡¯t be stupid. A dragon wouldn¡¯t spare a nce for anyone beneath his kind."


    "Hah! You¡¯re a wyrmling, barely a hatchling. Don¡¯t talk as if you¡¯re his equal."


    "Shut up! Let¡¯s hear how he achieved such a feat!"


    The lobby buzzed with adoration, envy, and bickering until the receptionist¡¯s clear voice cut through the mour.


    "Cadet 601," she said crisply, "you are awarded one hundred points forpleting the forty-ninth level. Congrattions. Be advised... you will not be permitted to challenge the Tower of Legends again for thirty days."


    <fn34b5> This text is hosted at </fn34b5>


    ***


    In the white room, Eleanor finally forced herself upright, every movement a battle. Her muscles tore, her bones cracked beneath the merciless weight of the amplified gravity. Yet her werewolf regeneration, aided by the academy¡¯s nanobots, knitted flesh and bone back together almost instantly. The agony, however, was real. At first, she grit her teeth and endured; then, when the torment became unbearable, she threw back her head and roared in defiance before dragging one foot forward.


    She was in her full werewolf form now, silver fur matted with blood and sweat that spattered the pristine floor. Step by step she pushed on... one, then two, then three... each a triumph squeezed out from pain and fury. By the time she reached the stairs and started climbing up, her body had already begun to adapt to the crushing force. The pain no longer broke her, though exhaustion gnawed at her with every breath.


    She nced at the timer after reaching in front of the door: eight minutes and twenty seconds. Relief flooded her chest. She sank down for a moment¡¯s rest, panting, before pushing herself forward when the counter neared its end. With onest exhale, she shoved open the door.


    Her body instantly felt light as a feather. A cool breeze swept across her face, almost mocking the torment she had just endured. But there was no time to savour the reprieve. The ground quaked as two colossal stone golems thundered towards her, their fists raised high.


    Eleanor braced, certain the blow would crush her into paste. But when the massive fist came crashing down, she caught it. Her palm... small and trembling... held back the weight of the titan. For a heartbeat she stared, stunned, until realisation struck her: thest level had changed her. Her body had been reforged to endure.


    With a roar, she twisted, shattering the golem¡¯s fist into rubble. Renewed vigour surged through her veins. She leapt high and drove her knuckles beneath its chin. The giant toppled, cracked, and broke apart with an earth-shaking crash.


    The second golem¡¯s strike thundered down where she had stood, but she slipped aside. Three swift punches hammered into its spine, and the stone giant splintered into fragments. Eleanor exhaled sharply, relief flooding her chest, and nced at the timer.


    Only thirty seconds had passed.


    Eleanor crossed to the door, set her back against the wall, and let herself rest. Her chest rose and fell with slow, measured breaths. When the timer bled down towards its final seconds, she stood, wiped the sweat from her brow, and pressed her hand to the door.


    From the twenty-eighth to the forty-ninth level, the tower had thrown its horrors at her in relentless session. Ironhide Ogres whose skin turned des, Bloodstone Gargants whose very blood was corruption, Bone Colossi stitched together from a hundred warriors, Carrion Hulks that dripped with decay, Rustw Beasts that could gnawed through steel, Chitin Lords with their carapace armour, Stonehorn Behemoths that charged like avnches, Venomfang Hydras that spat poison, Blight Serpents that withered everything they touched, and Magma Fiends whose breath turned air to fire.


    At first, they hade as a single type monster pack, each a test of strength and cunning. Then they came in mixed packs, each with the terrain bent to their advantage...va pools, fetid swamps, choking mists, crumbling cliffs. Eleanor fought through them all. She lost the sword she had carried into the twenty-sixth level, but she made the battlefield her armoury, taking weapons from the fallen and wielding them until they broke in her hands. Between battles, she imed what rest she could, closing her eyes, forcing her heart to slow.


    Yet she never once reached for her bloodline. Not once. Every victory was earned with flesh, steel, and sheer refusal to yield.


    Now she stood before the door of the forty-ninth level. A sword bnced in one hand, a shield strapped to the other. Her breathing was steady, her stance unshaken. Her academy uniform bore marks of bruises, healed cuts, and dried blood... but her eyes were alight.


    She drew in one final deep breath. This time, she was ready. This time, she would not endure merely to survive. She was ready to conquer.

 Chapter 235: An Unexpected Victory

    <h4>Chapter 235: An Unexpected Victory</h4>


    The lobby that had once roared with cheers and chatter now felt hollow, the silence broken only by the rhythmic tapping of the receptionist¡¯s fingers on her keyboard. The great spectacle of the day had already passed in the eyes of most cadets... Raijin¡¯s true rise and his stopping at the forty-ninth level.


    Eleanor¡¯s name, however, remained on the board, stubbornly ticking upward at its own unhurried pace. One level. Then another. Each update arriving after nearly the full ten minutes had drained away.


    To the impatient, it looked pathetic. To the keen-eyed, it spoke of endurance beyond reason.


    By the time she pressed into the thirties, the crowd had thinned to nothing. Evening shadows stretched long across the windows of thebat building. Ophelia, after waiting far longer than most, stood with reluctance, her expression soft with concern. "I¡¯ll bring her something to eat. If she¡¯s still in there when Ie back, at least she won¡¯t have to be in an empty stomach after this long fight." Kiara and Maira agreed and followed, leaving the hall with the faint tter of boots andughter.


    Raijin lingered longer, basking in thest echoes of praise, but when Eleanor¡¯s progress crawled to the thirty-fifth level without spectacle or copse, his pride assured him she posed no threat. He and his entourage drifted out withzy confidence, speaking of other things.


    Atst, only the receptionist remained. She didn¡¯t look up from her screen, though her eyes flicked once at the update board.


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) ¨C level 36


    The glowing letters pulsed in the empty lobby, unnoticed by anyone else.


    ***


    Just as Eleanor expected, the moment she stepped into level fifty she was greeted by a vast horde: Stone Golems, Ironhide Ogres, Bloodstone Gargants, Bone Colossi, Carrion Hulks, Rustw Beasts, Chitin Lords, Stonehorn Behemoths, Venomfang Hydras, Blight Serpents, and Magma Fiends. Among them were the long-forgotten fallen of her first twenty-five levels... Skeletons, Goblins, Crocodile Monsters, Ogres, Orcs, Giant Spiders, Three-headed Hydras, and Trolls.


    This time she did not hesitate. She unleashed her bloodline and began the ughter. Corpses piled into mountains as she carved her way through the valley, its edges hemmed in by towering trees. She spared no creature¡ªevery foe met with a single, fatal strike.


    All her bloodline abilities were in y:


    Overdrive Focus [Active] ¨C Latent energy channelled into heightened speed and reflexes.


    Mind eleration [Active] ¨C Cognitive speed amplified; enemy movements predicted in real time.


    Tactical Foresight [Passive] ¨C Battlefield read at a nce; every strike and step optimised.


    Killing Precision [Passive] ¨C Blows drawn unerringly to vital points.


    Predator¡¯s Awareness [Passive] ¨C Sensitivity to the faintest shift in intent or movement.


    Bloodlust Instinct [Passive] ¨C Combat instincts honed to lethal perfection.


    Holding them all at once drained her mercilessly, but it was necessary. Against an army this vast, she had no other chance... there were simply too many to count.


    When atst thest monster fell, scarcely five minutes had passed. Pleased with the result, she ascended towards the doorway carved into the mountainside and released her active abilities. At once, fatigue crashed over her body and mind. She sank down cross-legged, breathing deep, and slipped into meditation to recover her strength for whaty ahead.


    If the next floor was another gravity trial, she would need every shred of power before stepping through.


    "At the twenty-sixth level, my body underwent a transformation. I wonder if it will affect my real body. After all, this is only a created realm. But if the changes manifest in reality, then this tower challenge will be far more valuable than I imagined," she mused to herself.


    Atst, she opened the door and stepped into the fifty-first level. To her surprise, she was alone. The chamber was the same stark white as the gravity trial, but without any crushing pressure. The staircase stood in in sight, not far away.


    "Is this level broken... or have I already adapted so well to gravity that I no longer feel it?" she wondered.


    She advanced cautiously. A sharp whoosh cut through the silence, and before she could retreat, a steel needle mmed into her leg. The sound ceased.


    Eleanor gritted her teeth against the searing pain, yanked the needle free, and watched the wound knit itself closed. Frowning, she ced her sword on the floor where she had been standing. The sound returned, and this time she saw the needles: dozens of them shooting from hidden slits in the walls, all aimed precisely at the weapon.


    Now she understood. Thest trial had been strength; this one was agility.


    She lifted her sword and shield, braced herself, and stepped forward. The barrage began at once. Steel whistled through the air. She parried, blocked, dodged... but still several struck home, biting into her flesh. Painnced through her, but she pressed on.


    With each step closer to the staircase, the speed of the needles increased. They tore past her defences, embedding themselves in her arms, her sides, her legs.


    Then a thought struck her. She closed her eyes and expanded her senses outward. She felt it... the faint ripple of air, the intent of movement. Each trajectory became clear. With renewed focus, she began to parry, block, and dodge.


    She did not stop, even as needles peppered her. But with every passing second her speed quickened, her perception sharpened. Fewer and fewer struck home. Soon, none at all. She flowed through the storm with de and shield, turning aside every dart of steel.


    And then, suddenly, she was through. She opened her eyes to find herself at the base of the stairs. A smile curved across her lips. She had crossed the distance in less than three minutes.


    She plucked the needles from her body one by one, let them tter to the floor, and sat to recover her strength before climbing further.


    ***


    Almost eight hours had passed when Supreme Grandmaster Sc¨¢thach received another notification. Her eyes widened in astonishment as she saw that the werewolf had reached level 50 after nearly eight hours in the tower. She double-checked:


    [The Tower of Legends]


    Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) ¨C Level 50


    "Truly a genius! She knew exactly what she was doing. She turned the time limit, set to trap challengers, into her own advantage. Now you¡¯ve caught my eye... I hope you won¡¯t disappoint me." She thought, a devilish smile curling across her lips.


    Suddenly, another possibility urred to her. She touched her wrist device and said, "Call Arrichion."


    The instructor was still meditating in the dimly lit room. His wrist device vibrated; he nced at it with mild annoyance but immediately swallowed hard. He touched his device and said, "Hello, Grandmaster. How are you?"


    Sc¨¢thach wasted no time on formalities. "Have you met your new student, the one named Eleanor?"


    "Yes. She enrolled today, and we had a chat. Why? Did something happen?" He thought of that young, beautiful and smart woman. Unconsciously, a smile formed on his lips but in the darkness no one saw.


    "Was it just a chat, or did you teach her anything?"


    "Today was her first day at school, so we merely discussed various battle arts. I may have gotten a little carried away and unted some of my victories and battles. You know, it¡¯s been so long since I¡¯ve had a fresh student... I couldn¡¯t help but let her see how truly remarkable her teacher is. I trust that¡¯s not a problem in the context of lessons. After all, it¡¯s all true¡ªI am really that awesome."


    "I know how awesome you are," Sc¨¢thach replied. "I think you should spar with meter. I¡¯ve been short of a sparring partner for some time."


    Arrichion immediately stuttered, "P... Please, G... Grandmaster. Why did you call in the first ce? Did something happen?"


    "That exins Eleanor¡¯s behaviour. I think you should check her progress in the Tower of Legends. She just surpassed level 50, and it took her nearly eight hours. She is using the ten-minute recovery cap on every level. That is not the behaviour of a new cadet... nor of any being from Midgard, except you. To win, you can do anything."


    "No, Grandmaster. I always win in style."


    "Oh! I remember someone who waited nearly a week just to ambush a group of trolls while they slept. I believe that someone had the power to fight them directly but chose to cut them down in their sleep to ensure victory."


    <fn97b4> The rightful source is Find?Novel</fn97b4>


    "That wasn¡¯t me."


    "Ha Ha Ha. Then I must be mistaken." Sc¨¢thachughed heartily.


    "Thanks for calling, Grandmaster. I¡¯ll go check the tower."


    "Wait. I called to inform you that you have only fifteen days with her. In the meantime, teach her everything you can. Then send her to my domain."


    "Understood, Grandmaster. As you wish."


    ***


    Raijin Astrape Stormrider was chatting with some of his friends¡ªand yes, a few sycophants¡ªin the games room of the dormitory. At that moment, his device vibrated lightly. As he touched it, a screen popped up before him.


    [Notice]


    Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) has been defeated in a duel by Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659). ording to the rules agreed upon by the parties, all points of Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) are now transferred to Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659).


    Transferred Points: 2015


    "Fuck! How could this happen?" Raijin shouted, storming off towards thebat department.


    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and


    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 Chapter 236: A New Record-1

    <h4>Chapter 236: A New Record-1</h4>


    After the fifty-first level, each floor of the Tower of Legends became a battle against shiftingpositions of monster armies across varied and hostile terrains. With every ascent the challenge grew harsher. The monsters themselves seemed to evolve, adapting to her tactics, some even disying unnerving intelligence as they marshalled others under theirmand.


    At level fifty-two, Eleanor entered a maze of dark, dripping limestone caverns. The floors and walls were slick with phosphorescent algae that glimmered faintly, casting ghostly green light. Deep, still pools dotted the chambers, concealing submerged passages.


    The Crocodile Monsters lurked beneath the water¡¯s surface, bursting forth to seize and drag her down. Multi-headed Venomfang Hydras found sure footing on the slippery stone, their broad stances anchoring them as they spat venom that hissed against the wet rock, cloaking the cavern in toxic mist. From precarious ledges, Goblins loosed stones from their slings, the algae¡¯s glow guiding their aim, while others scurried across the treacherous floor to strike from the nks.


    Level fifty-three was a suffocatingwork of trenches and tunnels, narrow and choked with mud. The passages were too small for her to stand upright, forcing her to crouch or crawl. Barbed wire and sharpened stakes lined the edges, cutting off escape routes. Goblins swarmed through the cramped passages, swift and sure-footed. Orcs blocked choke points with heavy shields, while Skeletons wed their way from the sodden earth, reassembling even after being shattered. The level demandedbat in confinement, where there was no room to breathe, much less swing freely.


    The fifty-fourth level unfolded into a silent forest of stone. Towering petrified trees stood like jagged pirs, their brittle, needle-like leaves crunching underfoot with every step, making stealth impossible. Spiders dropped from the high branches, skittering across the noisy ground. Stone Golemsy in wait, half-merged with the trunks for sudden ambushes. Orcs melted into the dense cover, loosing arrows in sudden, darting attacks before vanishing again.


    At fifty-five, Eleanor found herself upon a deste volcanic in of ck sand and jagged rock. The ground trembled with the constant threat of eruption. Jets of scalding steam roared skyward without warning, while ash thickened the air into a choking haze. Magma Fiends used the geysers themselves as weapons, merging with them and erupting in surprise assaults. Rustw Beasts raked the ground with ws impervious to heat, kicking up storms of blinding ash. The Orcs, d in heat-hardened armour, locked their shields together and drove their formations forward, forcing her step by step towards fissures and geysers ready to erupt.


    Level fifty-six was a sunken temple, its drowned courtyards and shadowed halls filled with murky, chest-high water. Crumbled stairs and fallen pirs hid beneath the surface, waiting to trip or trap the unwary. Trolls waded in with terrifying persistence, their wounds knitting closed beneath the water. Crocodile Monsters struck from below, dragging prey into the depths. Blight Serpents tainted the very water with their venom, sapping Eleanor¡¯s strength with every breath and step.


    At fifty-seven, beauty masked lethal danger. The cavern was a cathedral of crystals, towering shards of razor-sharp stone refracting and amplifying every glimmer of light and spark of magic. Colours splintered into dizzying illusions, while beams of focused energy seared through the air without warning. Chitin Lords scuttled unseen, their reflective carapaces vanishing amid the crystal spires. Golems lumbered forward, their bodies sheathed in growing crystals that turned them nearly indestructible. The Hydras spat venom that refracted across the surfaces, transforming each spray into a barrage of death from a dozen directions at once.


    At level fifty-eight, she stepped into a multi-tiered jungle of petrified trees, their branches webbed together with thick, gleaming silk. The spider threads wove tforms, tunnels, and traps, forming a deadly maze suspended high above the mist-shrouded ground far below.


    The Giant Spiders darted across their webs with terrifying speed, tracking her through the vibrations of each step. Chitin Lords mbered up the stone trees with ded limbs, slicing the webs to send her plunging into traps. Skeletons, immune to both sticky silk and fall damage, were dropped from above or reassembled on the ground to harry her from below.


    Level fifty-nine opened into a bubbling bog of tar and sulphur. The stench clung to the air, and pockets of foul gas ignited into sudden bursts of me. The ground clutched at her boots, thick and cloying, dragging at her every step.


    Carrion Hulks lumbered easily through the fumes, impervious to both stench and tar. Magma Fiends deliberately ignited the gases, turning the bog into a field of fire and choking smoke. From patches of solid ground, Ogres hurled boulders, driving her back into the treacherous muck.


    At level sixty, she entered a vast hall floored entirely with ancient bones. The acoustics were unnerving... every sound amplified and distorted until the chamber was filled with phantom echoes. Her ears betrayed her, rendering her unable to judge direction or distance.


    The Bone Colossus rose silently from the floor itself, its bulk formed of fused skeletons. Arrows hissed through the darkness from unseen bowmen, the echoes disorienting her. Rustw Beasts skittered across the brittle floor, their movements magnified into a cacophony that surrounded her from every side.


    The sixty-first level spread into a vast, stinking swamp where the waters were acidic and thend treacherous. Patches of solid ground were rare, and a thick, poisonous fog rolled ceaselessly across the mire. Tangled rootsy hidden beneath the water, grasping at her feet.


    Blight Serpents swam effortlessly, breathing the tainted water and spreading their mists as cover. Trolls thrived here, regenerating with unnatural speed, their severed limbs regrowing in the murky depths. Carrion Hulks waded through the acid unscathed, their stench overwhelming, leaving Eleanor dizzy and struggling to keep her bnce.


    Level sixty-two thrust her onto wind-swept mountain passes, where violent gales howled through the cliffs. The winds threatened to hurl her into the abyss, and their roar drowned all sound but their own.


    Behemoths stood unshaken by the storm, their colossal horns releasing concussive sts magnified by the gale. Orcs fired crossbows with thick, wind-cutting bolts. From above, Spiders descended unseen, their approach masked by the shrieking wind.


    The sixty-third level stretched across a barren in of corroded metal ruins. The air itself was corrosive, rusting des and armour in moments. Crimson dust coated everything, and the ground crumbled under her weight.


    Rustw Beasts thrived, their ws honed to razors by the corrosion. Ogres, their metallic hides rusted and jagged, turned their very armour into weapons that tore through flesh. Chitin Lords, untouched by the decay, skittered freely across thendscape.


    At level sixty-four, she trudged into a vast desert of sand and crushed bone. Boneced whirlwinds raged across the in, shredding anything caught within. Beneath the treacherous ground, hollow pits copsed into mass graves of the ancient dead.


    Bone Colossi drew strength from the very terrain, their forms swellingrger as they absorbed bone fragments from the storms. Skeletons wed their way from the sand in endless numbers, reassembling the instant they were broken. At their backs, Orc necromancers bent the death-soaked desert to their will, shaping bone into storms that hunted Eleanor relentlessly.


    Level sixty-five was a canyon carved into dry, splintered stone. The ground fractured into narrow crevices and honebed tunnels, the earth unstable and prone to copse beneath too much weight.


    Serpents and Hydras slithered through the unseen tunnels, striking suddenly from holes at her sides or beneath her feet. Goblins crouched in the cracks, springing traps or darting out to cut at her ankles before vanishing again. Each step demanded precision... for one misjudgement would send the earth caving beneath her.


    At level sixty-six, she entered a spherical cavern lined with geode crystals that pulsed with stored thermal energy. The chamber cycled unpredictably between searing heat and freezing cold, the extremes forcing her to adapt her tactics with every shift. The Bloodstone Gargants remained unbothered, anchoring the field as they spewed magma regardless of the chamber¡¯s phase.


    When she stepped into level sixty-seven, she found a deep, narrow gorge, its sheer walls made of pure maic iron ore. Metallic debris littered the floor, while invisible currents tugged with irresistible force at anything forged of steel.


    <fnd811> Content originallyes from FindN()vel</fnd811>


    Her sword and armour were wrenched toward the walls, pinned by the maism. Ironhide Ogres lumbered forward, their studded hides amplified by the ore until they were nearly impervious. Rustw Beasts scrambled up the maic cliffs, their ws drawn sharper by the unseen forces, striking down at her from above. Stone Golems, untouched by the pull, held the line with immovable weight.


    At sixty-eight, she plunged into the Trollbone River, a roaring torrent slicing through the cavern. The water was so cold it numbed the limbs, and jagged blocks of ice battered anything caught in the current. Slippery, half-submerged rocks offered the only footholds.


    Trolls regenerated from any piece severed in the water, multiplying with every strike. A Hydra used the current to whip its heads with terrifying speed. Crocodile Monsters prowled the depths, waiting to drag her into the freezing dark.


    Level sixty-nine was abyrinth of pits linked by narrow ledges. At the bottom of each yawning chasm festered heaps of diseased carrion, the stench so thick it sickened the body and mind alike.


    Carrion Hulks drew strength from the filth, growing more fearsome the deeper they waded into it. Ogres hurled chunks of rotting matter, the foul impact enough to stagger her. Spiders strung webs over the pits, eager to drop her into the churning decay below.


    At level seventy, she found herself in a system of caves whose porous, crystalline walls oozed a paralysing, toxic sap. The air was dense and humid, heavy with clouds of neurotoxic pollen. It was a killing ground of poisons.


    Here she faced the Venomfang Hydras, Blight Serpents, and Chitin Lords... a synergistic army of toxins. The Hydras spat venom that mingled with the dripping sap, creating bubbling pools of corrosive glue. The Serpents¡¯ breathbined with the pollen into a hallucinogenic, choking fog that clouded her mind. The Chitin Lords, impervious to all toxins, scuttled freely along walls and ceilings, their sealed carapaces gleaming in the poisonous haze.

 Chapter 237: A New Record-2

    <h4>Chapter 237: A New Record-2</h4>


    At level seventy-one, she plunged into the Earthblood Chasm... a yawning fissure where the¡¯s molten heart flowed in rivers of fire. tforms of ckened rock drifted above the magma, rising and sinking unpredictably before crumbling back into the flow. The heat radiated upward in waves that seared her lungs with every breath.


    Stonehorn Behemoths brought ruin with each step, their weight shattering tforms and sending them plunging into the inferno. Ogres, hardened against the mes, brawled atop the unstable terrain. Magma Fiends swam freely through theva, bursting forth to reinforce their allies by hardening surfaces or dissolving the stone beneath her feet.


    Level seventy-two was the caldera of an erupting volcano. The battlefield consisted of crumbling inds of rock separated by roaring channels of magma. The air shimmered with heat, distorting her vision, and the relentless dryness cracked her lips and parched her throat. The ground itself trembled, threatening to copse at any moment.


    Magma Fiends coursed through theva streams, hurling fireballs before leaping out to grapple her into the molten tide. Towering Stonehorn Behemoths shattered inds with their stomps, avnching entire sections into the magma below. Bloodstone Gargants unleashed torrents of molten rock to sever her escape, their strength magnified by the hellish environment.


    At seventy-three, she entered the Hive Cluster. The cavern was organic, its walls formed of pulsating resin like the inside of a colossal wasp nest. Every surface was sticky, clinging to her boots and des. Bulbous pods swelled and burst without warning, spewing clouds of poison or jets of burning acid.


    The predators here were perfectly at home. Chitin Lords and Spiders raced across walls and ceilings with ease, their movements invisible in the honebed dark. Blight Serpents exhaled their breath upon the hive itself, causing the fleshy walls to convulse and strike at her as though the nest itself had turned predator.


    Level seventy-four was a horror beyond imagining. She stepped into a cavern of living flesh... walls, floor, and ceiling pulsed like muscle, slick with bile. Pools of acid bubbled in craters, and jagged racks of bone jutted outward like teeth. The very terrain exhaled a sickly stench of rot.


    This was the domain of regeneration and decay. The Carrion Hulks thrived in the cloying environment, their odour unbearable in the sealed space. A Three-headed Hydra regenerated endlessly; severed heads spewed streams of acidic blood, which the fleshy ground absorbed, sprouting writhing tentacles from the sttered biomass. Trolls drew nourishment directly from the living cavern, their regeneration elerated to madness. Eleanor battled not just monsters but the environment itself, which writhed and heaved as though intent on swallowing her whole.


    After myriad battles and countless ughter, Eleanor opened the door to level seventy-five. As she had anticipated, every monster she had in awaited her there.


    The battlefield was a living ossuary of flesh and stone. She did not stand on earth but upon a calcified za of interlocking bone and shifting tectonic tes, treacherous beneath her feet. Rivers of acidic bile cut through the floor, Blight Serpents writhing in their depths, their vapours rising to mingle with the searing air. Above her, a canopy of razor-edged, maic tendrils wed downward, crawling with skittering horrors. The cavern itself throbbed in rhythm with a distant Magma Heart, each beat sending geysers of steam surging upward to ignite the poisonous haze into sudden fireballs. The walls, formed of porous hive-rock, wept condensation and vomited forth an endless tide of lesser creatures. There was no sanctuary here... only a perfect synergy of elements designed to annihte her.


    Eleanor wasted no thought on measuring the might of the army or the malice of the terrain. She simply ignited her bloodline, unleashing every ability, and carved through the enemy ranks. She did not count her kills, there were too many... but she knew it was not enough. When the designated ten minutes had psed, more than a hundred monsters still swarmed around her.


    She let out a long breath. This was all she could manage at her current strength. There was no regret in her heart... only relief. She had no idea how long she had been fighting without pause, but her body had been weakening, fraction by fraction, with each sessive trial. A dull ache of hunger gnawed at her.


    "I must have been fighting for more than ten hours," she thought. "But I can feel it... my fighting has grown sharper. My skills have risen, especially the battle awareness and the strength and agility I gained at levels twenty-six and fifty-one. If these improvements are real, and I carry them beyond this tower, then the struggle was worth it."


    Before her thoughts could linger, her vision blurred. The cavern dissolved, and her consciousness snapped back into the space capsule. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the sterile glow as the lid hissed open.


    Eleanor blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the sterile light of the chamber. She was back... the same room where she had first entered the Tower of Legends. As she stepped out of the capsule, the device on her wrist vibrated. Instinctively, she touched it, and a holographic screen flickered to life before her.


    [Notice]


    Congrattions to Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) for clearing level 25 of the Tower of Legends. You have been awarded 100 points.


    Points added to inventory: 100


    [Would you like to see the next message? Y/N]


    The reward was expected. Without hesitation, Eleanor answered aloud, "Yes." Another screen appeared.


    [Notice]


    Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) has won a duel against Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601). ording to the rules agreed upon by both parties, all points belonging to Cadet Raijin Astrape Stormrider (10156601) have been transferred to Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659).


    <fn4127> Official source is F?nd-Novel</fn4127>


    Points added to inventory: 2015


    [Would you like to see the next message? Y/N]


    "Two thousand and fifteen points? Ha! So, he¡¯s already spent some of his earnings. Still... free points are free points. I wonder how far that arrogant dragon made it in the tower. With this loss, maybe he¡¯ll finally stop pestering me," Eleanor mused silently.


    She lifted her chin andmanded, "Yes. Show me the next message."


    [Notice]


    Congrattions to Cadet Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor (10156659) for clearing level 50 of the Tower of Legends. You have been awarded 1000 points.


    Points added to inventory: 1000


    [Would you like to close the window? Y/N]


    With a thought, she dismissed the message. "Nora, show me my current status," she said inwardly.


    Nora responded at once, voice crisp and deferential, "Congrattions, Master, on your victory. Here is your current status."


    [Status Screen]


    Cadet Name: Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor


    Cadet Number: 10156659


    Institution: Ascendance Academy of Midgard


    Race: Werewolf (Alpha)


    Bloodline: Mind Reaver (Level 1), Thunderbolt (Dormant)


    Cultivation Level: Awakened


    Academy Points: 5186


    The screen vanished, leaving Eleanor grinning to herself. Only one thought filled her mind: "I¡¯m rich."


    Nora chimed in, her voice smooth and precise. "Master, the nanobots in your body activated during levels 26 and 51. ording to my calctions, both your strength and agility have improved significantly. The tower does not merely award points after a war... it was designed to refine the cadets¡¯ physical prowess."


    "That¡¯s good. Very good." Eleanor¡¯s lips curved into a rare smile, her chest swelling with relief.


    "I felt my power rise after both levels. I suspected it might only be temporary... just a boost while inside the tower. Now my theory is confirmed. Sigh... I missed the opportunity for another enhancement at level 75."


    "Do not be disheartened," Nora replied. "While you were clearing the levels, I attempted to probe the tower¡¯s system. I rmend that you challenge it again once you are stronger. I believe theter stages are not purely physical battles... they are battles of the mind. Such trials would greatly enhance your bloodline abilities."


    "Then I¡¯ll look forward to that." Eleanor stretched her arms, weariness returning now that the adrenaline of the tower had faded. "But that¡¯s for the future. Right now, I¡¯m starving. I need the dining hall." She hopped down from the capsule and sealed it with a soft hiss.


    "Master, you may not realise how much time has passed. It is already midnight. The dining halls are closed. Fortunately, you stored some food in your robe for emergencies."


    "No wonder I feel like I¡¯m starving..." Eleanor muttered. "Fine, let¡¯s head back to the dormitory." She pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the corridor.


    Waiting there was Instructor Arrichion. His hawk-like eyes regarded her with a mixture of sternness and approval. Before she could offer a greeting, his voice cut across the silence.


    "Congrattions on your achievement in the tower, Cadet Eleanor. But I expected a better result from you. I watched your battles from the control room... you have too many ws yet to improve."


    "Thank you, Instructor." Eleanor lowered her head and gave a proper werewolf bow.


    Arrichion flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. "Come. I was waiting for you to finish the challenge. It is past curfew; I will apany you to your dormitory. You may not yet understand, but you have set a record simply by passing level seventy as a neer. You are the first in this academy¡¯s history to do so before formal training has even begun. Many professors and instructors already know your name. Keep up the good work."


    With that, he turned on his heel and strode down the corridor. Eleanor followed in silence, her heart oddly light despite the weight of exhaustion pressing on her.

 Chapter 238: Freya Targeted by Assassins

    <h4>Chapter 238: Freya Targeted by Assassins</h4>


    By the time Eleanor and Arrichion entered the lobby, the receptionist had long since gone. A guard in a ck uniform, seated by the door, immediately stood and saluted when he saw them.


    "Instructor, I was tasked to apany Cadet 659 to her dormitory... and to deliver this package." He held up a small box.


    "Very well. Give her the package and return to your duties. I will apany Cadet Eleanor myself," Arrichion said.


    The guard handed the box to Eleanor and departed without another word. She ced it on a nearby chair and lifted the lid. Inside were a few neatly packed snacks and a folded note. She picked it up and read silently:


    ¡¯Ma¡¯am, we are returning to the dorm. It¡¯s almost curfew. I hope this food will be enough for the night. -Ophelia¡¯


    A faint warmth stirred in Eleanor¡¯s chest. Ophelia had been worried about her missing meals. She tucked the box into her robe and silently promised herself to thank her properlyter.


    Arrichion said nothing about the package, merely waiting with patient stillness until she was ready to leave.


    When they stepped out of thebat department building, the sky over the academy was plunged into moonless darkness. Streemps lined the walkways, casting pale light across the stone paths. Even without them, Eleanor¡¯s sharp werewolf senses could easily pick out the dormitory building in the distance.


    As they walked, Arrichion asked abruptly, "Which optional courses do you intend to take?"


    "Fundamentals of Psionics and Wilderness Survival," she replied.


    His brow arched slightly. "An interesting choice. Psionics is expected, given your abilities. But why Wilderness Survival?"


    "I didn¡¯t find the other subjects valuable for me," Eleanor answered steadily. "And since I¡¯ll be venturing into adverse conditions in Vanaheim, I thought that course might prove useful if... unexpected things happen."


    "Good thinking. I believe that course will serve you well," Arrichion said as they walked along the silent night road. "I expect you toplete your enrolment by tomorrow morning. From then on, you will finish all your sses before noon each day. After that, you will report to me at the school for the next fifteen days. If any sses conflict with this schedule, tell the professors to adjust ordingly. If it¡¯s a mandatory ss, inform me directly."


    He paused, then continued in a firmer tone, "In the afternoons, you will join the mandatory outdoor sports. I suggest basketball. And I am not suggesting it as a break from training... it is part of your training. On that court, you will be applying everything you learn in MMA. Defensive shuffling and pivoting will sharpen the footwork you need to cut angles and control distance in the arena. Stop-and-go sprints forge the same anaerobic endurance required to survive a hard round. Leaping for rebounds builds explosive leg power for takedowns and kicks. And fighting for position under the is no different than wrestling in the clinch. So understand... this is not y. Every game will build your stamina, your explosiveness, and your fight intelligence. Remember this... within the next fifteen days, you must graduate from the school."


    Eleanor frowned. "Isn¡¯t the term supposed tost two months?"


    "For others, yes," Arrichion replied evenly. "But not for you. In fifteen days, you will be summoned to the Bloodline Institute to awaken your second bloodline. You already know you carry the dormant Thunderbolt bloodline, right? All cadets with dormant bloodlines, no matter how faint their resonance... will have them artificially awakened by the academy. Once you awaken your second bloodline, your physical instincts will shift. That may hinder your progress. I want you toplete MMA training while you are still without elemental interference. That will give you the strongest foundation."


    He paused, then added, "You also have to master that new ability. It will take time as you¡¯ve never used it before. So, I expect you to put in the effort and graduate from thebat department within fifteen days."


    "I¡¯ll try my best. Thank you, Instructor. But... I do have a doubt." Eleanor hesitated before voicing it. "I was told that our personal information is safe in the academy, hidden from others. Then... how did you know about my bloodline?"


    Arrichion gave a small smile. "You are correct. Personal records remain sealed in the academy system. But the academy grants professors and instructors limited ess to the basic information of cadets under their care... enough to guide your training properly. I can view only your core details and your recorded achievements. No more. And don¡¯t worry... only your direct teachers have that privilege. We have all sworn an oath never to exploit or disclose that knowledge."


    Relief washed over her at his words. By then, they had reached the dormitory entrance. Eleanor thanked the instructor politely before turning toward her room.


    The moment she stepped inside her room, exhaustion pressed down on her like a physical weight. Even so, she forced herself to change clothes and stumble into the shower.


    The shower did the trick. She felt clean after the long day and slightly more refreshed. Then she carried the snacks to the table, sat down, and began eating. Her hunger was almost ravenous¡ªshe finished all the snacks Ophelia had given her, along with some from her personal stash.


    Afterwards, she opened theptop for Nora to check the academy servers, as usual. Nora had already discovered several servers and breached many connections, but so far she hadn¡¯t found any lead that could establish contact with the outside world.


    Afterwards, she copsed onto her bed, her body finally surrendering to fatigue.


    As her eyes fluttered shut, one ache pierced through the haze of weariness. She missed her daughter. The long day of battle and training had kept her too upied even to think of Freya. Now, alone in the quiet, her little girl¡¯s smiling face surfaced before her, warm and bright. Then another image intruded... Ethan¡¯s cold, unyielding expression. Both lingered in her mind as her consciousness slipped into darkness.


    ***


    Thousands of miles away, Freya slept soundly in the back seat of Ethan¡¯s car. Life had felt like a grand adventure ever since her mother left for the academy. Her father had been taking her to ygrounds where she could mingle with other children. The games were simple... even too childish for her level, but she enjoyed them. Her mother rarely allowed her to y outside, and now she was free to run,ugh, and discover silly things.


    <fn0f2b> Get full chapters from Find[?]ovel</fn0f2b>


    That afternoon, after school, Ethan had brought her to the park. Afterwards, they had gone to see a newly released Disney film. By the time they were on the road home, Freya was too tired to stay awake. She curled up on the seat, drifting into dreams.


    The car was parked on a deserted branch road, far from traffic. Outside, Ethan stood motionless, his cold expression chilling the already frigid night.


    "How many?" His voice carried a faint edge of fury.


    "Five. All vampires," Sebastian replied. He was d in his usual ck uniform and mask, faceless in the dim light. To any stranger, he would have been unrecognisable.


    "Any survivors?" Ethan asked.


    "None. They were prepared. We tried to capture one alive, but they took poison pills before we could restrain them."


    "Understood. Report it to themand centre. Increase vignce around Freya," Ethan ordered, re-entering the car without another word.


    Sebastian remained still until the car door shut. Then, like smoke consumed by the night, he dissolved into the shadows.


    Ethan gently adjusted Freya¡¯s sleeping posture before settling beside her. The car eased back onto the road.


    He had expected that once Eleanor left for the academy, others might turn their eyes toward Freya... but not this soon.


    Earlier that day, while she yed in the park, he had felt it... the weight of a gaze from afar, a strong supernatural presence watching. Two shadow guards were always hidden nearby, and his own bodyguards lingered within reach. Yet Ethan had known that if the opponent was truly powerful, they would not be enough.


    To be certain the threat was aimed at them, he had taken Freya to the cinema. The watchers followed, though they kept their distance and did not enter the theatre. That was confirmation enough. While the film yed, Ethan had contacted Sebastian and the shadow guards stationed at the vi. Together, they arranged the trap.


    This deserted branch road was chosen precisely for that reason... offices closed, traffic thin, witnesses absent. It was the perfect ground for an ambush, where hunters could be the hunted. The n had seeded, but notpletely... every enemy was dead, and with none taken alive, the hand behind them remained hidden.


    At least one thing was certain... the attack hade from the supernaturalmunity.


    Ethan sighed, his cold expression softening as his gaze lingered on his daughter¡¯s innocent face. Freya slept peacefully, unaware of the danger that stalked her.


    "Without Eleanor here, they¡¯ve grown bolder," he thought grimly, sighing again. A heavy urge pressed upon him... the need to grow stronger, and quickly.

 Chapter 239: Supreme Judge Solon

    <h4>Chapter 239: Supreme Judge Solon</h4>


    Solon, son of Execestides, was a man who stood between abyss and precipice... and chose, instead of falling, to build a bridge. To know the man, one must first grasp the burden of the lineage he bore, yet ultimately transcended.


    His family, the Medontidae, traced their nobility to the dawn of Athenian kingship. His father, Execestides, was a man of fading fortune but impable pedigree. Through him, Solon¡¯s ancestry reached back to thest semi-mythical king of Athens, Codrus.


    The legend told that when the Dorians invaded, the oracle proimed Athens could only be spared if its king were in by the enemy. Codrus disguised himself as amoner, provoked a fight, and was killed... saving his city through his own blood. Codrus was Solon¡¯s great-grandfather.


    <fna237> Checktest chapters at Find[?]ovel</fna237>


    And the lineage reached deeper still. Codrus was the son of Mnthus, himself a descendant of Triton, the sea-king, and of a princess of Athens. Thus, Solon¡¯s bloodline flowed with mythic sacrifice and supernatural royalty: a heritage of kings and legends.


    This was the inheritance Solon might have imed. He chose, instead, to forge his own.


    Solon was an archaic Athenian statesman,wmaker, poet, and political philosopher... counted among the Seven Sages of Greece, and remembered as the man whoid the first stones on the path toward Athenian democracy. His reforms, bold yet measured, overturned most of Draco¡¯s brutalws and sought to arrest Athens¡¯ descent into political, economic, and moral copse.


    At the dawn of the sixth century BC, Athens teetered on the edge of civil war. The city was riven by staggering inequality. The poor were crushed beneath debts they could never repay; their very bodies and theirnd were coteral. Across the countryside stood horoi stones... grim markers that signalled bondage, monuments to the living enved. The aristocracy, clutching jealously to its privileges, offered no remedy, only the certainty of ruin.


    Into this crisis, Solon was elected sole Archon in 594 BC, entrusted with extraordinary power to save the city from tearing itself apart. His geniusy not in siding with rich or poor, but in raising the idea of the polis itself above every faction.


    His year as Archon was a storm of legition. The Seisachtheia... the "shaking off of burdens", was his most dramatic act, cancelling debts and forbidding the envement of citizens for loans. Yet this was only the beginning. He reorganised the citizen body into four property sses... pentakosiomedimnoi, hippeis, zeugitai, and thetes, each with distinct rights and military obligations, recing birth with wealth as the measure of political standing. He established the Council of Four Hundred (the Boule) to prepare business for the general assembly (Ekklesia), thus curbing the dominance of the aristocratic Areopagus Council.


    Most radical of all, he introduced the right of appeal to a popr court, the Heliaia, giving every citizen the power to challenge a magistrate¡¯s verdict. He draftedws on inheritance,nd tenure, trade, funerary rites, and the export of agricultural goods... inscribing them on revolving wooden axles (axones) disyed openly in the Agora, so thatw would no longer be the private knowledge of the few, but themon possession of the many.


    The reaction was not acim, but restless anger. He had disappointed both sides. The aristocracy felt betrayed, their ancestral privileges cut down and weighed against money. The poor seethed, furious that he had not gone further... had not seized and redistributed the estates of the rich. Solon himself likened his position to that of a wolf at bay, encircled by snapping hounds.


    And then, true to principle, he performed the most astonishing act of all. Having remade Athens¡¯ws, he stepped away from power. He bound the Athenians by oath to keep his constitution for ten years, and then he left the city... not in disgrace, but in deliberate withdrawal. For Solon believed that if hisws were to endure, they must rest not on the authority of thewgiver, but on the will of the people themselves.


    It was in this season of departure that Solon first began to uncover fragments of his ancestry, whispers of a bloodline older than Athens itself. Having bound the Athenians by solemn oath to uphold hisws for ten years, he chose exile... not out of shame, but as an act of service. His absence was as necessary as hisws. He knew that if he remained, the people would look to Solon the man, not to thews he had inscribed. Justice, he believed, must stand on its own legs, not on the authority of its maker.


    Thus, he left Athens as both pilgrim and envoy, seeking the truth of his inheritance while carrying Athens¡¯ name into the courts of kings. His journeys became a catalogue of the ancient world¡¯s empires, its wisdoms, and its failings.


    In Egypt, he stood beneath temples older than Greek memory, speaking with the priests of Sais. There he heard the tale of the sunken kingdom of Antica, a story that stirred his blood, for it was the first echo of his ancestors beyond Attica¡¯s soil. He sought out hidden ns... keepers of lore and bloodlines half divine, probing for the truth of his own heritage. In Egypt he grasped both the immensity of time and the fragility of civilization, how mighty kingdoms crumble into sand while their stones endure.


    From Egypt he sailed to Cyprus, to Aepea, where he advised King Philocyprus on the founding of a new city. The king, honouring his wisdom, renamed it Soloi. Though the dialect of its people wouldter be mocked as corrupt... giving rise to the word "solecism", the city itself stood as a monument to Solon¡¯s repute as counsellor andwgiver, even far from home.


    Yet his most famous encounter came in Lydia, with Croesus, the golden king whose wealth dazzled the world. Herodotus preserved their meeting: Croesus, robed in splendor, asked Solon whether he had ever seen a man so happy as he. Solon, unmoved by treasure, replied, "Count no man happy until he is dead." For happiness could not be measured by wealth, but only by the sum of a life well-lived, judged in its ending.


    Croesus, affronted, dismissed the oldwgiver. But yearster, when he was bound upon a pyre by the Persian conqueror Cyrus, he remembered Solon¡¯s words. It is said he cried out, "O Solon, Solon, Solon!"¡ªa testament to the enduring sting of that lesson: that fortune is fickle, and the gods do not reckon happiness as men do.


    He journeyed across thends of Europe, the Middle East, and Africa, walking the boundary where myth brushed against history. He met kings andmoners, priests and warriors, and in secret ces, the children of sea and shadow. Though he never found the fabled underwater kingdom of Antica, he discovered the truth of his Merfolk bloodline. The ns of the deep recognized him, and some entreated him to undergo the ancient rites that would awaken his dormant power. Yet Solon, ever measured, chose to wait. He longed first to live as a man among his people, to walk Athens¡¯ streets as son, friend, and citizen, before returning to the depths to im the inheritance of his blood.


    For ten years he wandered, and when atst he returned, he saw the true test of hisbour. His oldrade Peisistratus had seized power as tyrant, and many whispered that this was proof of the failure of Solon¡¯s reforms. But Solon, with the patience of one who understood the long arc of time, saw differently. Hisws had taken root. They could be bent, twisted, even smothered beneath a tyrant¡¯s rule... but they could not be erased. The idea of equality underw, once spoken, could not be unsaid.


    In hister years, weary of the noise of politics and the ceaseless quarrel of men, Solon chose seclusion. He left Athens once more, vanishing into the horizon, seeking silence, perhaps seeking the sea. Some say he died far from the city he had saved; others whispered that he returned atst to the waters of his ancestry, imed by the tide.


    What remained was not his crown, for he never sought one, but the living framework he left behind. He gave Athens notmands carved in stone, but a constitution supple enough to grow with the city itself. It was Solon who taught Athens to govern not by the will of kings, but by the reason of its people.


    And in that gift, his truest inheritance was revealed: not merely the blood of kings and sea-gods, but the wisdom to give away power, so that others might learn to wield it.


    In reality, Solon left Athens and journeyed to Kvernheim. There, he awakened his merfolk bloodline and took his ce as the Supreme Judge of the Supernatural Council. He authored the very first Supernatural Act, which became the foundation of the current peace within the supernaturalmunity.


    There are seven Judges entrusted with upholdingw and justice among the supernatural races. Judges serve as both arbiters and executioners, working directly under the Council. They are: Supreme Judge Solon, Judge Hatshepsut, Judge Theodora, Judge Ashoka, Judge Yu, Judge Hammurabi, and Judge Lycurgus.

 Chapter 240: Supernatural Response Units

    <h4>Chapter 240: Supernatural Response Units</h4>


    Everyone was waiting for the first ss of Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law. As it was one of thepulsory courses, all the cadets of the primary term were present in the lecture theatre... the same hall where they had attended Professor Sylpha¡¯s ss earlier.


    The door creaked open, revealing a man framed in the doorway, his robe a deep scarlet that seemed to swallow the very light around him. A heavy silence swept over the green-robed cadets. They had expected a professor in indigo, not scarlet. And everyone knew what scarlet meant: the figure before them was a Judge. At once, the chatter in the theatre died, leaving only the weight of his presence.


    His face was a mask of severe, impartial authority, etched with the lines of countless weighty decisions. The scarlet robe, tailored with unforgiving precision, seemed less like clothing and more like a verdict given physical form. It was the colour of finality, of consequences too grave for their everyday lessons.


    Some cadets recognised the face of Supreme Judge Solon, others did not. But all looked at him in awe.


    He moved to the centre table with a slow, deliberate pace. The only sound was the whisper of heavy fabric on stone... a sound that demanded silence. Two hundred pairs of young eyes followed him, wide with a mixture of fear and reverence. No one fidgeted. No one whispered. They understood instinctively that the man within the robe was less important than the office he represented. This was thew itself, walking among them.


    He stopped behind the table and ced his hands upon it, his flinty gaze sweeping over the frozen ssroom. Then Solon spoke, his heavy voice carrying to every corner of the hall.


    "Hello, ss. I am Supreme Judge Solon, a member of the Merfolk race. But I do not belong to any n. My loyalty lies with Lord Yggdrasil and with Midgard. Some of you may know me by my human identity, Solon of Athens. But here, I carry none of those names. I havee to teach you Supernatural Ethics & Law."


    He continued, "There is no textbook for this ss. The only book you may take as your guide is the Supernatural Act. I believe you have already read it, as it is the foundation of our current peace in Midgard. In case you have not, you will find a copy on yourptop in the dormitory."


    He paused, then continued, "I will not teach you Supernatural Ethics & Law as the Supreme Judge of the Council, but as a professor of this academy. There will be no fixed teacher for this course. I and my fellow Judges will conduct this ss collectively."


    He looked around the hall; the cadets were listening in silence. "Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law is the foundation of our legal system, and the basis for keeping Midgard at peace... and in turn, united under one banner against any outside threat. Some of you may wonder why we insist that you study the Supernatural Act, since you already know the rules. The answer is simple. We want you... the cadets of this academy... to understand thosews deeply, to uphold justice not only within these walls, but also when you walk freely through Midgard."


    He continued, "As you know, we are only seven Judges under the Supernatural Council. We neither have the time nor the ability to enforce the Supernatural Act across the entire world. Therefore, the Council agreed to form a team of Dragons as Enforcers. You are all aware that Dragons live long lives, usually in istion with their immediate kin. They never formed ns, even though their gics are closely matched. Physically, they are considered equals among themselves, and superior to most other races. For these reasons, the Enforcer team was formed under the Council, tasked with upholding justice."


    He paused once more, his voice carrying a weight of revtion. "While the vast majority of humanity lived in blissful ignorance, the governments of the world operated on a carefully guarded truth: supernatural beings are real, and they live among them. To manage the inherent risks and enforce thews set forth by the Supernatural Council, many nations jointly established covert, elite security forces known as Supernatural Response Units, or SRUs. These teams were born from the Council¡¯s directive and operate under the utmost secrecy, answering only to the highest authority of eachnd... be it president, prime minister, or monarch."


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    His gaze swept across the ssroom, lingering on the many different races gathered under one roof. "Theposition of an SRU is uniquely diverse, much like your ss. Members of local supernatural races who graduate from this academy... vampires, fae, werewolves, merfolk, and others willing to serve under nationalw... are eligible to join their nation¡¯s SRUs. The only exception is the Dragons, who are native to Kvernheim and may serve only in the Council¡¯s core Enforcer team. Those who take up the role are paid a sry, and they also earn points through a system simr to this academy¡¯s points that may be exchanged for weapons, elixirs, or other valuable benefits."


    He paused, then added, "Humans are the most critical and unique members of the SRUs. These are individuals who have seeded in the Trial of Yggdrasil, reached Vanaheim, and be low-level core ascendants. Yet, upon returning to Earth, they chose not to pursue the higher realms. Byw, they must join an SRU designated by the Enforcers. One may apply to remain in their homnd, but the final decision regarding their posting lies with the Enforcers."


    He continued, "Some of you may not know this... the path of ascension treats humans differently from all other races. A human who seeds has no more than a month to travel to Molgrath and advance from a low-level to an intermediate core ascendant. But here lies the catch... while other races may return as same to Earth even after reaching higher stages, at least until the Saint-level, humans cannot. Once a human advances beyond the low-level core stage, their bond with Earth is severed forever."


    He paused, his voice lowering slightly. "Furthermore, if an intermediate human ascendant attempt to return, they do not retain their power as other races do, nor a temporary degradation like a Saint. Instead, they sufferplete copse... falling back into mortality, dying shortly after. Faced with this absolute risk, many human cultivators chose to remain as low-level core ascendants, sacrificing the pursuit of greater power for the chance to remain on their homeworld."


    He let the silence linger before continuing. "Recognising the worth of these powerful yet earthbound humans, the Dragons... acting as Enforcers of the Supernatural Council proposed a solution: service in the national SRUs. In doing so, humans became a vital bridge of trust with mortal governments, whose leaders often hesitated to deal directly with non-human entities."


    He swept his gaze across the cadets, his tone firm. "I know some of you may be thinking about forced recruitment. Worry not... the Council does notpel anyone. But understand this... as core ascendants, humans live far longer than their ordinary peers. They cannot exin their longevity. Worse still, there are always those who would exploit them... greedy men seeking the secret of eternal life, reducing them to nothing more than test subjects. Such tragedies have already urred. Thus, the Council created a sanctuary in Kvernheim for these earthbound humans, a ce where they may live in peace. Only those who wish to serve, join the SRUs. And believe me when I say... most humans choose service, for it gives them purpose, allowing them to use their gifts in the pursuit of world peace."


    He paused, then added, "As for the other races... you all possess naturally longer lifespans and your own n or racialws. Should you wish to serve the Council, you may apply to join the SRUs. But remember this... even if you choose not to serve full-time, as cadets of this academy you are still bound to assist the local SRUs when called upon. There are many asions when a local unit is not strong enough to enforce justice or prevent catastrophe. In such moments, they may call upon you ording to your power, your skill, or your social standing. You are obliged to respond. Yet even then, service is not coerced... you may decline the summons, provided you submit your reasons to the Council."


    He continued, "While in service, every member of an SRU is bound by the Supernatural Act. In practice, the Act supersedes all individual racial or n codes. Their mission is singr... to protect all civilians, human and supernatural alike... from rogue entities that threaten peace or endanger the Veil of Secrecy. Their operational mandate is to contain and neutralise such threats with minimal coteral damage and without exposing our world to mortal eyes. For decades now, under different names in different nations, the SRUs have kept that fragile bnce intact."


    He allowed a long silence to settle over the room, then spoke with deliberate weight. "We, the Judges of the Supernatural Council, believe that you... the cadets of this academy... are the pirs of Midgard¡¯s future. It is for this reason that wee to you ourselves. We want you to understand, with no veil of pretence, the true importance of the Supernatural Act in safeguarding peace, and in shaping a prosperous future for us all."

 Chapter 241: Seven Judges of the Supernatural Council

    <h4>Chapter 241: Seven Judges of the Supernatural Council</h4>


    Everyone was engrossed in the lecture of Supreme Judge Solon. Introduction to Supernatural Ethics & Law was proving far from the dull exercise they had expected.


    Solon¡¯s voice carried with rity and weight, resonating with every cadet. "Before we drown ourselves in the ¡¯boring¡¯ws, I want you to know my fellow Judges. They will share this course with me. Some of you may know their names, but I want you to hear of them from my lips. The Judges stand without hierarchy... each worthy of equal respect for their service to Midgard. But let us begin with Judge Hatshepsut, the Pharaoh-Queen of Egypt."


    He paused, then continued, "Hatshepsut was among Egypt¡¯s most sessful rulers, presiding over two decades of peace and prosperity. She did not carve her legacy through conquest, but through creation... monumental building projects, the restoration of tradeworks, and the enrichment of her people. Her most celebrated expedition was to the Land of Punt, which returnedden with gold, ebony, incense, and exotic beasts. Shemissioned hundreds of works, structures that still stand as testaments to genius in stone. As a woman ruling in a man¡¯s world, she cloaked herself in divine right and proved that power could be founded not on destruction, but on stability, prosperity, and splendour."


    His gaze sharpened. "As a vampire princess, she embodies the aristocratic ruler whose reign endures as eternal as the monuments she raised. Her authority is absolute, her wisdom umted over millennia, her court woven from ancient oaths and bloodlines. She is the embodiment ofw¡¯s permanence."


    Solon¡¯s eyes swept the ss before he went on. "Now, Judge Theodora, the Co-Augusta of the Byzantine Empire. She rose from the seemingly humblest of origins... an actress, the daughter of a bear-keeper... to be the most powerful woman of her age, wife and equal partner to Emperor Justinian I. Her moment of greatest renown came during the Nika Riots, when the city burned and the Emperor¡¯s council urged flight. It was Theodora who stood unyielding and dered, ¡¯Royal purple is the noblest shroud.¡¯ Her defiance steeled Justinian, saved his throne, and preserved the empire."


    "She was a fierce champion of women. Under her will,ws were passed to ouw the forced prostitution of young girls, to grant women rights in divorce, and to secure mothers¡¯ guardianship over their children. She established convents as sanctuaries for the broken and the fallen. To Theodora,w was not abstract principle, but a living shield for the most vulnerable."


    His voice dropped lower, carrying a different weight. "As a Banshee, her voice is more than speech... it is fate itself. The cry that quelled rebellion and saved an empire is the same cry that makes verdicts ring with terror in the hearts of the guilty."


    He paused, then continued, "Now, about Judge Ashoka. Ashoka the Great of the Maurya Empire. His reign began with ruthless conquest, culminating in the blood-soaked fields of the Kalinga War. Yet in that carnage he was transformed. The endless suffering he witnessed broke something within him... and in its ce arosepassion. He renounced the path of the sword and embraced Buddhism, and with it the principle of Dharma... non-violence, tolerance, and moral virtue."


    "He carved his edicts into stone... rocks and pirs scattered across his vast empire... proiming kindness to all beings, respect for every creed, humane treatment of servants and prisoners, and reverence for nature itself. He sent emissaries of peace tonds far beyond India, spreading this message ofpassion. Ashoka is the proof of redemption... a conqueror whoid down the sword and used absolute power not to enve, but to enlighten and nurture both body and soul."


    Solon¡¯s voice deepened. "As one of the Naga Royals, he embodies the duality of his race... both perilous and divine. The Naga may take human or serpentine form, they are always the guardians of sacredw and hidden treasures. Ashoka¡¯s metamorphosis from tyrant to protector reflects that dual nature... fangs of destruction, yet coils of wisdom."


    He let the weight of the words sink in, then turned. "Now, Judge Yu. Yu the Great of Xia, the founder of the Xia Dynasty. Emperor Yu was not merely a ruler, but a mythic force at the very roots of Chinese civilisation. In his time, cataclysmic floods devoured thend. His adoptive father failed to control them and was executed. The burden then fell to Yu."


    "Unlike his father, he did not rely on futile barriers. For over a decade he roamed thend, cutting new river channels, dredging waterways, and opening paths for the floods to reach the sea. It was a well-known fact that he passed his own home three times in thirteen years but never entered, so unyielding was his devotion. In the end, he subdued the waters, carved order from chaos, and made thend fit for life and cultivation. During this time, he awakened his dormant dragon bloodline by himself and founded the Xia Dynasty, the first in China¡¯s long dynastic line. Yu is the archetype of thewgiver... he did not merely writews, but imposed harmony on the primordial chaos, crafting the foundation upon which civilisation itself could rise."


    Solon¡¯s eyes glinted. "As an Eastern Dragon, Judge Yu embodies wisdom and storm. His essence flows with rivers and rain, with storms and lightning. He does not merelymand water... he is the embodiment of water, and with it, he is a superpower all over the world."


    He continued, "Now, Judge Hammurabi, the King of the Babylonian Empire. Hammurabi is immortalised for crafting one of the oldest and mostplete written legal codes in human history, the Code of Hammurabi. Carved into a towering ck stone stele for all to see, its 282ws dered the principle of ¡¯an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.¡¯ Yet it¡¯s true genius was not in vengeance, but in order."


    "Thew standardisedmerce, set wages, established liability, andid down rules for family, property, and personal conduct. Though harsh by modern sensibilities, its achievement was profound. For the first time,w stood above the ruler. Justice became a public, predictable system... visible, knowable, and applicable to all within the empire. It was civilisation learning to codify itself."


    Solon¡¯s tone grew weightier. "As a Werehyena, Hammurabi embodied the primal enforcer. His code was not a suggestion, but amand... unyielding, seemingly brutal, and upromising. Yet, it was effective at that socio-economic context. His presence on this council is the reminder thatw, at its heart, must have teeth."


    He paused, letting the silence thicken, before speaking again. "And finally, Judge Lycurgus, the legendarywgiver of Sparta. Whether man or myth, his name endures as the architect of Sparta¡¯s iron society. He is said to have drafted the Great Rhetra, the constitution that forged an entire civilisation into a weapon. He created the council of elders to check the kings, assembled the citizens to give voice to the state, and instituted the ag¨­g¨¥... that relentless education and training system which shaped every Spartan into a soldier first and foremost."


    "His most radical act was the redistribution ofnd into equal shares, and the banning of gold and silver coinage, crushing greed and dissolving ss division. Hisws elevated austerity, discipline, and the absolute submission of the individual to the collective. Lycurgus is the embodiment ofw as iron will... unyielding, harsh, and utterly effective in shaping society for survival."


    Solon¡¯s gaze swept the room, sharp as a spearhead. "As a Werewolf, andmander of mighty Spartan warriors, Lycurgus was more than a battle-leader. He carried the pack¡¯s instinct into politics... fierce, disciplined, and bound by loyalty. In our circle of Judges, his presence bnces strong will and reason, strength and structure."


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    Solon paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the silent lecture hall. Then he said, "I have told you about the Judges because they will be very real in your lives once you pass this academy term. When you decide to join the SRUs, or when you are called upon to coborate with them, you will find yourselves working under the authority of the Judges and the Enforcers. Now that you know who we are, and as you begin to study the many aspects of the Supernatural Act, there remains but one task after graduation... to know your local SRU. But that is a matter forter in the term."


    He allowed the weight of his words to settle, then continued, "The Supernatural Act is the bedrock upon which the fragile peace between mortals and the supernatural world is built. Established by the Supernatural Council, it stands as the supreme legal framework, granting jurisdiction over supernatural affairs to national governments. Its most vital function is the enforcement of the Veil... a strict mandate of secrecy that prevents mass panic among humans, while at the same time protecting supernaturals from persecution."


    "The Act defines supernatural crimes, outlines rights for all beings, and sets unyielding boundaries on the use of powers. It is the sole source of authority for the SRUs, legitimising their operations and empowering them to investigate, detain, and, when necessary, enforce. Within its uses lies the protocol for esction... the formal procedure by which teams may summon the Enforcers when a threat exceeds their ability to contain it. In this way, every action is anchored within a unified, globalw."


    He continued, "Without this Act, the delicate bnce we have fought so hard to achieve would copse... into chaos, into bloodshed, into war."


    The lecture continued, and the cadets sat utterly absorbed, listening to every word spoken by Supreme Judge Solon.


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