Chapter 580: Chapter-580
The vase shattered against the stone wall, sending shards of pottery flying into the darkness.
"Damn it!" the Prime Minister roared, his hands gripping his hair in sheer frustration. "How the hell did she escape?!"
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Twenty Minutes Earlier
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The heavy, paralyzing darkness of the room pressed down on Heena’s motionless body. The feverish heat of the drug was burning through her veins, blurring the edges of her consciousness.
The shadowy intruder had just slipped through the broken window, their silent footsteps crossing the floorboards and stopping right beside Heena’s paralyzed form.
The figure dropped to its knees. Two small, trembling hands reached out, grabbing Heena firmly by the shoulders and desperately trying to pull her heavy, armor-clad upper body off the dusty floor.
The glowing blue lion, completely terrified of the unknown intruder, hovered frantically around the figure’s head. As the clouds outside shifted, a thin, silvery beam of moonlight pierced through the torn paper window, illuminating the intruder’s face for just a fraction of a second.
The System gasped, its pixelated eyes going completely round.
"Host!" the System shouted in her mind, completely dumbfounded. "It’s... it’s the Prime Minister’s wife!"
Hearing that, Heena’s mind violently jolted. Using every single ounce of her terrifying, battlefield-forged willpower, Heena fought against the paralytic neurotoxin. Her eyebrows twitched. Her jaw clenched. Slowly, agonizingly, she forced her heavy eyelids open.
Her vision was incredibly hazy and completely blurred from the drugs. The room spun wildly, but as her eyes focused through the chemical fog, she saw her.
It was the Third Wife.
The pristine, high-ranking noble lady had completely abandoned her elegant composure. Her heavy, dark blue silk robes were covered in dirt and soot from sneaking through the ruined palace. Her ornate hairpins had been discarded, and her face was pale, sweating, and etched with sheer, terrified determination.
The Third Wife looked down at Heena, meeting the Vanguard Madam’s half-lidded, burning eyes.
"Don’t worry," the Third Wife whispered, her voice trembling violently, but carrying an unmistakable edge of absolute resolve. "I am taking you to a safe place."
With a strained gasp, the Third Wife hooked her arms under Heena’s armpits and pulled.
It was a completely impossible task. Heena was a tall, muscular general, weighed down by heavy winter fur, thick silk robes, and concealed weapons. The Third Wife was a frail, abused woman with a body battered by poison and deep tissue bruises.
But as she pulled, the Third Wife didn’t stop. She gritted her teeth, tears of sheer physical exertion pricking her eyes as she dragged Heena’s upper body up.
"She’s too heavy!" the System hovered nervously, watching the painful struggle. "She’s going to break her own bones!"
But the Third Wife refused to let go. She twisted her body, using the ruined bed frame for leverage, and miraculously managed to haul Heena’s limp, burning body onto her own back.
The frail noblewoman, who looked as if she could be broken with a single push, let out a ragged, painful groan as she stood up under the crushing weight of the Vanguard commander. Her knees buckled dangerously, her broken ribs screaming in agony, but she forced herself to stand upright.
Gripping Heena’s limp arms tightly over her shoulders, the Third Wife took a deep, shuddering breath, turned toward the broken window, and started walking into the dark.
The journey from the desolate ruins of the Cold Palace to the guest quarters of the inner court was an agonizing, breathless nightmare.
Heena could only watch through half-lidded, burning eyes as this petite, bruised woman dragged her through the shadows. The Third Wife moved with a desperate, frantic precision, ducking behind stone pillars and holding her breath every time a group of patrolling imperial guards or palace servants walked past. The physical toll on the frail woman was terrifying to witness. Her breathing sounded like tearing paper, and her small hands were completely scraped and bleeding from gripping Heena’s heavy armor.
Yet, she didn’t stop. She dragged the Vanguard Madam step by excruciating step until they finally reached the secluded guest pavilion temporarily assigned to the Prime Minister’s family for the banquet night.
As soon as the Third Wife pushed the heavy wooden door open and dragged Heena over the threshold, her body completely gave out.
She quickly kicked the door shut behind them, but the moment the latch clicked, a violent, bone-rattling cough ripped through her small frame.
She bent double, her hands flying to her mouth as she choked. Her strength evaporated instantly. Heena, who was far too heavy for the exhausted woman to hold up with just one arm, slipped completely from her grasp.
Because the neurotoxin had severed all connection to her muscles, Heena couldn’t brace herself. She fell like a cut string.
THUD.
Heena hit the solid wooden floor hard. Her head violently slammed against the unforgiving wooden planks, the impact echoing sharply in the quiet room.
The Third Wife collapsed onto her knees beside her, coughing so hard it sounded as if she were going to physically cough up her own lungs. Dark droplets of blood splattered against the pristine floorboards, a grim testament to the internal damage she was suffering from her broken ribs and the Prime Minister’s daily poisons.
On the floor, Heena’s vision violently spun.
The heavy blow to her head, combined with the boiling, unnatural heat of the aphrodisiac and the suffocating weight of the paralyzing agent, proved to be too much even for her legendary Vanguard willpower. The sharp, laser-focus she had maintained throughout the ordeal began to shatter.
A heavy, suffocating wave of drowsiness crashed over her mind.
"Host! Host, no, no, no!" the System shrieked, floating frantically down to her face. It grabbed her cheeks with its intangible, glowing paws, trying to shake her. "Do not close your eyes! You have a concussion! Combined with the neurotoxin, if you fall asleep now, your heart rate might drop too low! Wake up!"
Heena could hear the digital lion’s panicked voice, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater. The edges of the room were turning completely black. The burning heat in her veins was pulling her down into a dark, feverish abyss.
She looked up slightly, her blurred vision catching the sight of the Third Wife, who was still gasping for air on the floor, wiping the blood from her mouth with a trembling, pale hand. The petite woman looked at Heena, her eyes wide with terror as she realized the Vanguard Madam was losing consciousness.
Heena’s eyelids fluttered, impossibly heavy. She tried to force them open, tried to curse at the System to stop yelling, but the darkness was absolute. Slowly, inevitably, her eyes slipped completely shut.
The Third Wife dropped to her bruised knees, frantically dragging herself the last few inches across the wooden floor. She hovered over Heena’s motionless body, her trembling hands patting the Vanguard Madam’s flushed cheeks.
"My lady," the Third Wife stammered, her voice cracking with absolute terror. "My lady... please, my lady!"
Tears of sheer panic welled in her eyes. She frantically looked around the dimly lit guest room. Her eyes locked onto a heavy porcelain water jug resting on a low side table across the room.
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