( Leo’s POV )
For the next several hours after receiving the news about Ben Faulkner’s death, all Leo could do was frantically search for the truth behind his master’s demise, unwilling to believe that he could truly be gone.
He scoured every article on the global forums, ticulously read through every comnt, and desperately sought soone who might refute the claim. However, to his deep dismay, no one did.
There appeared to be a unanimous consensus that Ben Faulkner was among those who had died within the Royal Palace that day—a piece of news that utterly devastated Leo.
For a long ti, Leo stared blankly at the screen in front of him, the confirmation of his master’s death burning into his mind and it was only when the reality began to settle in and the weight of it pressed down on him like a boulder, that his shock morphed into sothing darker, sothing far more dangerous.
His master—Ben Faulkner, the man who had guided him, trained him, and, in many ways, had been more of a father to him than anyone else—was gone. The finality of it struck Leo with a force that left him breathless, his chest tight as if it were being crushed.
But the grief, as overwhelming as it was, did not last long. It was swiftly overtaken by a burning rage, a fury so intense that it made his vision blur.
The thought of never seeing Ben Faulkner again, of never hearing his stern yet comforting voice, of never having the chance to save him or thank him, ignited sothing primal within Leo. His hands shook, not with fear or sadness, but with an uncontrollable desire to destroy—destroy everything and everyone responsible for his master’s death.
His mind raced, jumping from one thought to another, each more violent than the last.
He wanted to find them—those who had taken his master from him. He wanted to hunt them down, one by one, and make them suffer as he was suffering now. No, even more than that. He wanted them to feel the pain of losing soone they loved, to experience the helplessness and the despair that ca with it. And then, when they were broken, when they had nothing left, he would end them. Not quickly, but slowly, so that they understood every second of the agony they had caused him.
Leo’s breath ca in ragged gasps as he paced his room, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, drawing blood, but he did not care.
The pain from bleeding was nothing compared to the storm raging inside him.
His rage was so strong, that the world around him seed to fade, leaving only the burning need for revenge.
Without thinking, he dashed toward the manor’s door, his only thought to get out, to ride to the capital where his master had fallen.
However, as he reached the periphery of his manor, an invisible barrier stopped him from exceeding its bounds, as a system notification reminded him of his house-arrest.
[ System Notification :- Player ‘TheBoss’ cannot leave the Crest-Hill Manor for another 5 months 3 days and 14 hours ]
Five months?
The absurdity of it made him want to laugh, but no sound ca out, only a snarl of frustration.
“Let out!” he roared, slamming his fists against the invisible barrier as the manor that once felt like a haven now felt like a cage, and he was a wild beast, trapped within it.
The system’s cold, emotionless ssage only fueled his rage further. He struck the barrier again and again, uncaring of the pain, the bruises forming on his knuckles.
His mind was consud by a singular thought, that if he could just get out, he would make them all pay. The Empire that had taken Ben Faulkner from him would burn, its people would suffer, and he would not stop until he had avenged his master.
But the barrier remained unyielding, and with each failed attempt to break through, Leo’s fury only grew. He let out a guttural scream, a sound of pure, unbridled rage that echoed through the empty halls of his manor. It was unfair—no, it was cruel, that he was being kept here, away from the place where he could avenge his master, where he could do sothing to ease the unbearable pain tearing at his heart.
Breathing heavily, Leo finally staggered back from the door, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his rage. His mind raced with plans, strategies—anything to break free of this confinent. But each idea was thwarted by the cold reality of the system’s restrictions. He was trapped, unable to move, unable to act on the burning desire for revenge that threatened to consu him from the inside out.
The next five months stretched out before him like an eternity, a torturous wait that he could hardly bear. But even as the despair of his situation pressed down on him, Leo swore to himself that this would not be the end of this saga…. his master might be gone, but his resolve was not.
When the ti ca, when he was finally free, he would unleash the fury building within him. The Empire would burn, and those responsible for Ben Faulkner’s death would pay dearly.
Although Leo had no idea as to why his master decided to fight Commander Thalion or who really was responsible behind his master’s death, he swore to kill whoever it was, regardless of how small their involvent was to his master dying.
Until then, Leo decided to wait, biding his ti, letting the rage simr just below the surface, ready to explode the mont he was free.
He swore to not forget, swore to not forgive. For the death of his master, the world was sure to pay a heavy price.
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