Chapter 241: The Descent of the Demon to the Battlefield

"Defeated, you say? What do you mean? How could the Black Wings army have lost?"

Sitting in his chair, Belfor straightened his posture and stared intently at Rick standing before him.

"I’m sorry, leader," Rick replied heavily. "I don’t know the reason either, but that’s the report we received from our spies."

His vague answer only fueled Belfor’s anger.

What a useless fool!

He cursed inwardly.

The Black Wings were renowned mercenaries who had completed countless missions on the battlefield. To hire them, he had spent nearly fifty million Sharn.

And that wasn’t the only benefit he had offered—they had received far more than money could measure.

Yet now, those mercenaries had failed, defeated by the Valmire family’s army. Naturally, this outcome enraged him.

"Well..." Belfor exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. "The most important thing now is to erase every trace of our involvement with them. Have you already done that?"

His gaze turned sharp, pressing down with authority.

"Don’t worry, leader. I’ve already burned and destroyed everything. Even if suspicions fall on us, without evidence it will mean nothing," Rick answered with confidence.

"Good!" Belfor nodded in satisfaction.

The Black Wings had once committed crimes against the Great Velmora Empire, making them high-class fugitives still hunted by the imperial forces.

If the Red Obsidian Trading House were caught dealing with them, the consequences would be disastrous. The palace itself might impose sanctions on him and his trading house.

"By the way, gather the other mercenaries immediately. The Castellan family must not fall. No matter what, don’t let it happen! Understood?"

"Understood, leader."

"Good. Now go."

Rick gave a firm nod before quickly leaving the study.

As he watched him go, Belfor leaned back in his chair and muttered coldly, "This must be settled at once. If the Blue Moon Trading House interferes, both I and my trading house will be in danger."

His eyes glinted sharply, filled with vigilance.

...

The clash between the Valmire and Castellan armies raged fiercely. Hundreds of soldiers on each side battered against one another without pause.

Yet, to any keen observer, the Valmire forces clearly held the advantage.

Despite their smaller numbers, the triumph over the Black Wings kept their fighting spirit burning fiercely.

The Castellan troops, however, were caught unprepared. Unable to withstand the relentless assault, they began to crumble under the Valmires’ advance.

After half an hour of brutal combat, the Castellans were finally forced back. Some fled, but most were captured—including their captain.

"Surrender," Aston said coldly, leveling his sword at the bald man. The tip of the blade hovered just centimeters from his eyes. "Yield, and I’ll spare your life."

Unlike the Black Wings, the Castellan troops were natives of the eastern region. Aston was unwilling to kill his fellow countrymen—that was the last favor he could grant them.

"Hehehe..." The bald man grinned. "Forgive me, Marquis Valmire, but surrender isn’t an option. My duty—and that of my men—is to defend Gardian City and the Castellan family. If you wish to enter, you’ll have to cut through us first."

Seeing his resolve, Aston felt no anger. Instead, a sense of admiration stirred within him. Only true soldiers would stand firm to protect their land, even if it cost them their lives.

"Then I’ll just have to hold you back," Aston said calmly.

At once, he ordered his men to bind the bald man along with the hundreds of soldiers. It took time, but Aston didn’t mind.

Fifteen minutes later, the Castellan army was fully detained and secured under Valmire’s watch.

"Ten soldiers, come with me to the Castellan mansion," he commanded evenly.

The ten nearest soldiers nodded and quickly gathered.

But just as they were about to mount their horses, something unexpected occurred. The once clear sky slowly darkened.

A cold, powerful wind swept in from the south, whipping against them. It wasn’t strong enough to knock them down, but the dust it carried stung their eyes.

"What’s happening?" Aston muttered in surprise, shielding his face with his arm.

Peering ahead, he froze. About twenty meters away stood a black, human-like figure.

From his build, he was clearly a man, yet he had neither hair nor clothes. His face was vague, showing only eyes, ears, and lips, while his entire body was pitch black, giving him a sinister appearance.

Aston raised his right hand, signaling the ten soldiers behind him to fall back.

"Who are you?" Aston asked coldly.

The man’s eyes opened, revealing sharp, crimson pupils. Aston froze, his heartbeat quickening.

That gaze was so terrifying it felt as if his very soul was being dragged into it.

He drew a deep breath to steady himself, narrowed his eyes, and asked again, "Who are you? What is your purpose here?"

The figure remained silent for a moment before finally speaking in a low voice. "Freedom..."

Aston’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Freedom..." the man repeated. "I want freedom. Once I’m free, I can return to my family. So..."

A hideous grin spread across his face. "I have to kill you all... hehehe..."

Aston’s eyes widened in shock. He quickly raised his sword—but it was too late.

In an instant, the figure appeared before him and twisted his body.

Bang!

A crushing kick struck Aston’s stomach, hurling him a hundred meters through the air until he crashed violently against a massive tree trunk.

The sight left the ten nearby soldiers dumbfounded—just like the rest who were restraining the Castellan troops.

"What just happened?" they muttered, frozen in shock.

But they had no time to think. The black figure vanished, reappearing right in front of one of them.

His left hand suddenly twisted into a massive claw, which he swung in a vicious arc.

Slash!

The soldier’s body was torn apart instantly, ripped into several pieces. Blood sprayed across the ground, and the gruesome sight made everyone—even the Castellan troops—hold their breath.

"How horrifying!"

The strike was so fast they hadn’t even seen it. And that monstrous claw, sprouting from his hand, was utterly terrifying.

In the next moment, realization struck them all—this man was a true threat.

At once, they raised their weapons and shouted in unison, "Attack!"