Chapter 579: Chapter-579
Someone was climbing through the torn paper window.
There was a soft, incredibly muffled *thud* as a pair of boots landed lightly on the floorboards. The footsteps were completely different from the heavy, armored stomping of the Prime Minister’s assassins. These steps were eerily quiet, calculated, and impossibly light—the footsteps of an apex predator slipping into the dark.
Right next to Heena’s ear, the glowing blue System suddenly gasped.
The digital lion had been frantically hovering over her face, crying and trying to pull her up. But as the shadow detached itself from the window and stepped into the faint stream of moonlight, the System completely froze.
Its glowing, pixelated fur stood on end. It floated backward, its digital eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated shock as it looked at the intruder.
"Host...?" the System stammered, its voice trembling so badly it was barely a whisper. It looked from Heena’s paralyzed body up to the towering silhouette standing in the room. "Host... who’s... who’s this... this, this person?!"
The intruder didn’t speak. Slowly, the quiet, stealthy footsteps began to move across the wooden floor, closing the distance, walking directly toward where Heena lay helpless in the dark.
.
.
.
Twenty minutes later, the heavy, crunching sound of footsteps echoed through the overgrown courtyard of the Cold Palace.
The Prime Minister walked through the ruined gates, his hands clasped casually behind his back. The benevolent, scholarly facade he had worn in the Great Hall was completely gone, replaced by a dark, arrogant, and victorious sneer. He had come to personally witness the absolute destruction of the Vanguard Madam.
He stopped outside the locked wooden door, looking at the lead assassin standing guard.
"Is she here?" the Prime Minister asked, his voice dripping with sinister anticipation.
The assassin immediately dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "Yes, Master. She is secured inside."
The Prime Minister scoffed, a dark, throaty chuckle escaping his lips. He waved his hand, and the assassin quickly unlocked the heavy iron padlock, pushing the rotting wooden door open.
The Prime Minister stepped over the threshold into the pitch-black room. He didn’t immediately call for a lantern. He wanted to savor this moment in the dark, speaking directly to the broken, paralyzed woman he assumed was lying helplessly on the dusty floor.
"Well, well, well," the Prime Minister gloated, his voice echoing off the cold walls. "So, even the mighty Vanguard General has finally fallen into my trap, hmm? Let’s see if you can get away from me now."
He took a slow, deliberate step forward, thoroughly enjoying the sound of his own voice.
"You dared to laugh at me? You dared to humiliate me in front of the entire imperial court?" The Prime Minister smiled maliciously into the darkness. "What? Not going to say anything now? How are you so silent... baby?"
He waited for a ragged gasp, a whimper, or any sign of the aphrodisiac taking hold of her mind. But there was nothing.
Absolute, dead silence.
The Prime Minister’s smile faltered. He squinted into the suffocating darkness, his eyes adjusting to the faint moonlight filtering through the torn window. He looked at the floorboards where she was supposed to be. Then he looked at the rotting wooden bed frame in the corner.
His eyes violently widened.
"What the heck?!" the Prime Minister roared, his voice cracking with sudden, sheer panic.
Hearing his furious shout, the assassins standing guard outside violently flinched. Thinking their master was under attack, they drew their swords and rushed into the room. But as their eyes scanned the dark space, the blood in their veins completely froze.
The room was entirely empty.
Heena was not on the floor. She was not on the bed. The Vanguard Madam had completely vanished into thin air.
"Where is she?!" the Prime Minister screamed, spinning around and grabbing the lead assassin by his armored collar, spit flying from his lips. "Where is she?!"
The assassins stood frozen in pure, unadulterated shock. Their minds completely short-circuited. They had personally dragged her in here. They had locked the iron padlock from the outside.
"M-Master!" one of the assassins stammered, his sword trembling in his hand. "She was here! We swear it! We put her right here on the floor and locked the door behind us!"
The Prime Minister shoved the leader backward with ferocious strength. "Then did she sprout wings and fly away?!"
The leader caught his balance, his dead, emotionless eyes now wide with genuine terror. "Master, that is impossible! She inhaled a massive dose of the red cloud! With that amount of the drug, she shouldn’t even be able to open her eyes properly, let alone stand up or escape!"
The Prime Minister looked at the empty floor, his chest heaving as absolute dread began to claw at his throat. If Heena had escaped, if she somehow made it back to the Vanguard estate and told her grandfather what had happened, the Prime Minister’s entire political faction would be slaughtered before the sun even rose.
"What the heck are you all just standing here for?!" the Prime Minister bellowed, his face turning a furious, ugly shade of purple as he pointed toward the open door. "Find her! Tear this entire rotting palace apart and find her immediately!"
The assassins didn’t dare hesitate for a single second. They scrambled out of the room, drawing their poisoned blades and rushing frantically into the dark, ruined corridors of the Cold Palace, desperately hunting for a ghost that had already slipped through their fingers.
The Prime Minister’s face twisted into a mask of pure, demonic fury. He slowly turned his head to look at the trembling assassins, his dark eyes entirely devoid of humanity.
"If she has escaped," the Prime Minister hissed, his voice dropping into a deadly, terrifying whisper, "I will personally tear every single one of you apart right here. I will skin you alive and feed your flesh to the dogs."
The assassins visibly flinched, their blood running completely cold. They were literally trembling in their black armor. They knew with absolute certainty that this was not an idle threat. The Prime Minister was a man of his word, and his cruelty knew absolutely no bounds. He could, and would, do exactly as he promised.
The Prime Minister took a deep, ragged breath, forcing his analytical mind to override his blind rage. He looked down at the empty, dusty floorboards, calculating the variables.
"She could not have gone far," the Prime Minister deduced, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits. "If the drug has truly taken effect, the neurotoxin and the aphrodisiac combined would make even crawling, let alone walking, barely possible. She is dragging herself through the dirt right now."
He turned sharply to the assassins. "Search the entire palace grounds! Turn over every rotting floorboard, check every ruined courtyard! And make absolutely sure that no one outside this palace is alerted. If the imperial guards catch wind of this, we are all dead."
"Yes, Master!" the assassins gasped in unison. They spun around and rushed out the door like a pack of starving wolves, desperate to find the Vanguard Madam to save their own skins.
Left alone in the dark, empty room, the Prime Minister’s composure finally snapped. He grabbed a heavy, cracked ceramic vase that had been left to rot in the corner of the room and hurled it violently across the room.
CRASH!
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