Baron Alistair Mortir's eyes widened as figure after figure erged from the massive portal that had just materialized in the courtyard, each individual radiating a potent aura.
The very air crackled with the energy of their presence, the sheer weight of their combined power suffocating.
Warriors clad in the unmistakable regalia of the Everhart family ford a formidable formation around Adrian.
So wielded massive greatswords that crackled with lightning, others held staves that shimred with arcane energy, while archers stood in the back with arrows notched, glowing faintly with an eerie light.
Following the elite forces ca another unit, and this one was unlike anything Baron Mortir had seen before.
Hulking figures with scales of polished crimson and eyes that glowed with a draconic intensity marched out, their re presence sending shivers down the spines of Mortir's n.
The Draconic Battalion—an elite force granted to Adrian by the system as a reward—stood behind him like an immovable wall of draconic might, each mber's aura a testant to their terrifying strength.
Mortir's confidence faltered, his face draining of color as the reality of his situation settled in. He had initially thought he was dealing with a re skirmish, a small nuisance that could be eradicated swiftly.
Now, however, it was clear that he was the one surrounded, the tables having turned in an instant. What should have been a fight to capture or kill one man had transford into a dire struggle for survival.
"Impossible," Mortir muttered, his voice barely a whisper as his eyes darted frantically from soldier to soldier. "How… How is this possible? They—"
Adrian's mocking laughter interrupted him, cutting through the Baron's shock like a knife. "Surprised, Baron?" he asked, his voice dripping with scorn. "Did you really think I would be foolish enough to co to your territory alone, with no one but her?"
Mortir's face contorted with rage, but a deep sense of dread lingered just beneath the surface. He took a step back, his gaze narrowing as the Everhart soldiers continued to pour out of the portal, surrounding his n on all sides.
Desperation clawed at his chest. He had managed to gather a handful of his elite commanders and the strongest warriors stationed within the castle's walls, but the majority of his forces were scattered across his vast territory, guarding key locations and patrolling strategic points.
The ones currently at the castle were nowhere near enough to counter what was now a full-scale invasion.
The worst part? The soldiers erging from the portal were only the beginning.
As the last few people stepped through, the energy around the portal shifted once more. Mortir watched in disbelief as a group of won walked out.
Each one radiated an aura that sent a chill down his spine. They were powerful—far more powerful than the elite forces that had co before them.
Two of the won had auras that matched his own strength. The oppressive force they exuded made the ground tremble beneath their feet, and even his seasoned commanders found themselves involuntarily stepping back. And the third…
Mortir's heart skipped a beat. The third woman's aura dwarfed his own. Her presence was like a black hole, sucking in all the ambient mana and light around her, creating a void of overwhelming power.
Even with his vast experience, Mortir could do nothing but stare, paralyzed by the realization that he had no hope of standing against her.
But the final arrivals made his blood boil with a fury he hadn't felt in decades.
Two more won erged as the portal began to close, and Mortir's gaze locked onto them instantly. One was a petite young girl with delicate features and a striking resemblance to—
"Eve…" he breathed, the word dripping with venomous anger. His daughter—the child he had broken, humiliated, and enslaved—now stood before him, her eyes wide and hopeful, filled with a light that he had crushed long ago.
How dare she look at him like that, as if she had escaped his grasp?
The second figure twisted his expression into one of pure hatred. It was the woman he had used to control his daughter, the one who had served as both a concubine and a tool to ensure Eve's submission.
The very sight of her standing there, no longer sick but beautiful as the day he bought her to be his concubine, sent him into a blind rage.
"You…" Mortir's voice was a guttural snarl, his aura flaring violently as he realized the situation. "You insolent brat! You were that rat, the one who caused the chaos in my castle!"
Adrian's smirk widened as he took a leisurely step forward. "Haha...Guilty as charged, Baron. So, what are you going to do about it?"
The question was delivered so casually, with such a lack of concern, that Mortir found himself trembling in fury.
He clenched his fists, the energy around him crackling with barely restrained power. "I'll—"
But Adrian cut him off, his eyes shifting to Eve as he beckoned her closer. "Eve, co here."
She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before rushing forward, her movents filled with a newfound grace and agility.
She ca to a stop just in front of Adrian, looking up at him with a mixture of gratitude and tender love—sothing that made Mortir's stomach twist with disgust.
And then, in one swift motion, Adrian cupped her cheek and leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss.
Eve's eyes widened in shock, but they soon fluttered shut as she lted into the kiss, her entire being leaning into Adrian's embrace.
The courtyard fell silent, every eye watching the display with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Mortir's jaw dropped, his face turning a deep shade of purple as his mind struggled to process what was happening.
When Adrian finally pulled back, Eve was breathless, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling with a happiness that Mortir had never seen on her face.
She glanced back at her father, then turned to Adrian, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Adrian…" she murmured softly, her voice filled with a quiet reverence.
Adrian shifted his gaze back to Mortir, whose expression had contorted into one of unadulterated hatred.
The Baron's teeth were bared, his fists clenched so tightly that blood began to drip from where his nails dug into his palms.
"You… You bastard!" Mortir roared, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. "How dare you—"
Adrian didn't reply to the Baron, he thought of sothing and then he shifted his appearance with a flash of mana, turning his face to look like that of the envoy, who had started it this path where Adrian was now—Darian, the envoy of Mortir.
"Darian… You—!" Mortir choked, stumbling back.
"That's right, Baron. I'm Darian, your envoy. And I have completed my mission Lord Baron." Adrian gestured grandly at the army that surrounded them, the Everhart soldiers closing in with deadly precision.
"I've brought the entire Everhart family to you as you commanded Lord Baron."
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