Chapter 447 - Capim's Destruction
Capim House, Iris Street, Cherwood Borough
In the spacious and elegant dining room, the maids ticulously arranged gold-inlaid ceramic tableware on the long table. They placed caviar, roast chicken, stewed lamb, fried ox eye, fried dragon bone fish, cream soup, and other delicacies in an orderly sequence, adhering to refined etiquette.
Monts later, Capim, slightly overweight, erged from his study. A false warmth spread across his face as he greeted his guests with exaggerated humility: the middle-aged Heras, cloaked in a white hood; Katie, clad in a thin shirt; and Parker, an aged man who appeared harmless and frail.
Once seated, Capim raised his glass, feigning an aristocratic air, and toasted:
"Storm is above, let's toast to a better future."
Katie brushed her fingers against the old scars lining her face, giving only a faint nod in response.
Heras said nothing but lightly raised the stem of his wine glass.
Only Parker, the elderly gentleman, responded:
"Cheers to a bright future."
Unbothered by the lack of enthusiasm, Capim turned his attention to the only lady present, speaking with ingratiating charm:
"Ms. Katie, tonight we have your favorite caviar and a roasted chicken specially prepared for you."
Katie humd lightly in acknowledgnt and began carving the roast chicken with surgical precision. Her knife moved thodically, dividing the bird into pieces of near-identical size.
Even though he had witnessed this display before, Capim still felt a chill run down his spine. Trying to mask his unease, he hurriedly cut a piece of fried dragon bone fish, dipped it in black pepper sauce, and stuffed it into his mouth.
The dinner proceeded without incident until the ornate wall clock struck 7:23.
At that mont, just as Capim was about to ask his guests if they would like dessert, he erupted into sudden, uncontrollable laughter. His laughter grew louder, his body shaking as he clutched his belly. Tears stread down his flushed cheeks.
The dining room fell eerily silent.
The servants nearby began collapsing one by one, unconscious. Others clutched their stomachs, vomiting yellow-green bile, unable to stop.
No one was spared.
Heras, despite his calm deanor, felt his breath grow shallow. His instincts scread a warning: the entire room was filled with poison.
He barked sharply:
"Hold your breath! Parker, open the door! Katie, follow —find the intruder!"
Bang!
The dining room door burst open as Parker forced it ajar, allowing fresh air to flow in. At the sa ti, Heras activated his spiritual vision, imdiately spotting an illusory figure silently moving amidst the chaos.
The figure was cloaked in thick black armor, a black crown resting atop its head, and a black mask obscuring its face—like a spectral king erging from the void.
It was Klein, who had phased through the wall two and a half minutes earlier.
Without hesitation, Heras raised his right hand, channeling the Judge ability to "imprison" the intruder. But before the ability could take effect, he noticed a glowing talisman clutched tightly in Klein's hand—etched with intricate symbols like the "Sword of Judgnt" and an array of ancient sigils.
It wasn't just an ordinary artifact—it was a high-level spell.
Heras's eyes widened in realization. Before he could react, Klein solemnly declared in ancient Hertic:
"It is forbidden to make rules here!"
The weight of the words echoed throughout the space.
Having witnessed the "Forbidden" combat technique during the naval battle seen in Miss Judgnt and Mr. Tower's Late Night Broadcast, Klein had prepared ticulously. He confird with Miss Judgnt that most of Capim's Beyonders followed the Arbiter Path, known for rule enforcent and restriction abilities.
To counteract this, Klein had secured the "Ninth Law" Charm from Mr. Tower—a spell specifically designed to prohibit prohibitions.
As Klein's words hung in the air, a series of dark golden runes and magic symbols spread throughout the space, weaving into the fabric of reality.
Heras imdiately felt the weight of invisible chains binding him. His "imprisonnt
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