Wandering Swordsman |

That cry was heart-wrenching, carrying with it all the years of wandering, longing, and grievances.

The Heavenly Demon Lord, who was second only to the Heavenly Demon God Sect, has disappeared. Standing before Hainira now is merely a lost sheep who has finally found its way home.

Hua Tianyou's knees buckled, and he knelt heavily before his mother in broad daylight.

He looked up, and his face, which resembled Hua Shenyong's, was now covered in tears.

He reached out, trembling, wanting to touch the hem of his mother's clothes, but stopped in mid-air, as if afraid that all of this was just another fragile dream.

Henila covered her mouth, her eyes, which bore a striking resemblance to Hua Tianyou's, instantly flooded with a torrent of tears.

She staggered forward, her hands trembling as she touched her son's cheeks. The warmth from her fingertips finally convinced her that this was not a dream.

"Tianyou... my child..." Henila's voice was choked with sobs and almost incoherent. Tears slid down her pale cheeks and dripped onto Hua Tianyou's hand, burning hot.

Her trembling fingers gently traced the curve of her son's brow bone, where her deepest love, buried for twenty years, lay.

"I always thought you... had disappeared..." She sobbed uncontrollably, pressing Hua Tianyou's head tightly into her arms, as if trying to make up for all the years of longing in one go.

The mother and son embraced and wept. After Hua Shenyong died from poisoning, the two, who had been separated, were finally reunited at this moment. At this moment, their kinship turned into a silent torrent.

Inside the council chamber, everyone held their breath, as if afraid to disturb this reunion that transcended life and death.

However, seeing this touching scene, the Marquis of Henry's face was even more grim than on the darkest, most stormy day.

When had he, a member of a collateral branch of the British royal family, ever been threatened like this? The sword pressed against his shoulder had been withdrawn, but the chilling cold and the fear of death were deeply imprinted on his soul, becoming an indelible shame for the rest of his life.

He didn't glance at the mother and son who had reunited, and didn't even bother to exchange a single insincere word of politeness.

This level of shame and indignation needs no further embellishment.

"Casio, you're great..."

The Marquis Henry's voice was forced out through clenched teeth, each word sounding as if it were coated with blood and foam.

He turned abruptly, his scarlet cloak drawing a resolute arc in the air, like a defeated flag.

"We'll settle things another day! I'll raze this Marseille territory to the ground one day!"

After uttering these harsh words, he didn't even glance at his entourage behind him and strode out of the hall.

His footsteps were heavy and hurried, as if pausing for even a second longer would cause him to explode with anger.

However, Count Cassio seemed oblivious to the Marquis Henry's threat.

At this moment, the count's old eyes, which had seen many vicissitudes and were usually full of shrewdness and calculation, were already blurred with tears.

In his world, only the young man in front of him, embracing his mother and weeping, remained.

They look so alike... their eyebrows and eyes are practically identical!

That was the image his daughter, Heinila, had fallen in love with when she was young, and it was also the deepest pain in his heart for many years—the shadow of his son-in-law, Hua Shenyong.

At this moment, the son-in-law who had died from poisoning seemed to stand before him again through the body of this young man.

"Quick! Tianyou, get up!" Count Casio's hands trembled as he reached out to help Hua Tianyou up, his careful movements as if he were holding not his grandson, but a rare treasure.

His cloudy tears streamed down his face, his voice choked with sobs, "Good child...it's truly a blessing from heaven that I can see you again..."

He was completely immersed in the ecstasy of regaining what he had lost, and the Marquis Henry's departure and threats were like a speck of dust to him.

Royal majesty and territorial wars all seem so pale at this moment.

He just wanted to hold on tightly to this warmth of blood ties.

Thorne, a knight commander under Duke Odin of the Tsarist Empire, stood to the side and watched the scene quietly.

His face, as resolute as a rock, remained expressionless, but a hint of understanding and sadness flickered deep in his eyes. He knew it was time for him to leave.

"My Lord, now that Young Master Tianyou has been successfully delivered, my mission is complete." Thorne stepped forward, his voice low and steady, breaking the warm atmosphere in the hall.

Count Cassio paused slightly upon hearing this. He looked up at Thorne, his gaze complex and unreadable. Gratitude, wariness, and a hint of barely concealed hatred intertwined in his eyes.

Odin, the Invincible... Although you did not personally kill Hua Shenyong, if you had not coveted the Heavenly Demon Qi, how could Shenyong have died young?

Although the hatred for the murder of her son-in-law was temporarily suppressed due to the political situation, the blood ties could not be eliminated.

Count Cassio opened his mouth, but in the end it only turned into a barely audible sigh, and he nodded slightly.

He did not try to stop him.

Thorne, with his keen insight, naturally understood the Count's aloofness. This was not merely the end of diplomatic rhetoric, but a silent declaration of the deep-seated animosity between the two families.

As the loyal dog of the Invincible Lord, he was well aware of this.

Thorne said nothing more, but simply nodded slightly and gave a standard knightly salute.

His movements were steady and aloof; even when he was being neglected, he never lost the demeanor of a knight commander of the Tsarist Empire.

His departing figure stood tall and straight like a pine tree, each step firm and powerful, as if he wanted to leave the prosperity and warmth of Marseille deep in his memory, as the only solace of this journey.

......

Night falls.

The cozy atmosphere of Marseille contrasted sharply with the Marquess Henry's estate.

Inside the Marquis Henry's castle, the lights were bright, but they couldn't illuminate the oppressive, deathly silence in the hall.

"Clang—!"

With a loud crash, the priceless glass goblet was smashed to the ground, shattering into pieces that splattered everywhere, and the deep red wine spread like blood across the white carpet.

Marquis Henry stood in the center of the hall, his chest heaving violently, his well-preserved face now twisted like a demon.

In front of all his subordinates, he hysterically vented his anger, and no one dared to utter a sound.

"Disgrace! This is an utter disgrace!"

Marquis Henry roared, his voice hoarse and shrill from excessive excitement.

He recalled Hua Tianyou's cold eyes, the feeling of the sword against his neck, and the helplessness of being the prey that nearly drove him to collapse.

"A mere brat! A bastard of unknown origin! How dare... how dare he point a sword at me! I will tear him to pieces! I will tear the entire Casio family to pieces!"

The servants, stewards, and scribes below the hall all lowered their heads and looked down, wishing they could become invisible air.

They had never seen the Marquis so out of control; such hysterical rage often foreshadowed countless deaths.