Suddenly, a rush of hurried footsteps echoed from outside. A breathless subordinate burst in.
"Sir! Where are you? There seem to be people from another faction approaching!"
Jim whipped his head around to look at the man, then quickly turned back to Livia.18
She stood unmoving, her eyes brimming with unhidden confidence.
It wasn't the look of someone bluffing—it was the look of someone who had long since set the board and was now calmly waiting to close the net.
Jim cursed inwardly, realizing he'd already missed the best moment to act. Killing her now would serve no purpose, and capturing her wouldn't give him control anymore.
But he was someone who could pivot quickly. In an instant, he put on another face, flashing a smooth smile.
"No matter," he said breezily, waving a hand. "Looks like we really do need to keep talking."
He tucked the rag and stone away, though this time, a hint of genuine respect and caution flickered in his eyes.
"So you want an alliance? Fine. Let's stay in touch. I can see your sincerity."
He looked at her and suddenly let out a low chuckle.
"Just one thing—what happened today, stays between us. You, me, and the wind."
He paused, smile deepening:
"I'm guessing you wouldn't want Marcellus and Elias to find out that you once offered to work with me in private, would you?"
The words were both a counter and a threat. It looked like he was letting her go, but in truth, he was binding her with a chain that could tighten at any time.
Livia didn't flinch. Instead, she gave a faint smile and nodded lightly.
"Right back at you."
With that final exchange, Jim tucked away the stone and cloth. His fingers moved swiftly—the stone, still carrying a lingering trace of divinity, went into a secret pouch sewn into his coat lining; the cloth, he crumpled and shoved into a hidden pocket at his waist.
His eyes darkened. He turned and strode quickly out through the cavern mouth, his steps near soundless in the empty corridors.
When he reached the passage's exit, the soldier standing guard was still alert, eyes sharp. Jim inhaled quietly, the steel in his gaze flickering and vanishing.
He spoke in a low voice. "Tell Will to pull back. Now."
The soldier froze for a second, but didn't ask questions—just nodded silently.
Jim added casually, "We're done here. Nothing of value inside. That intruder's been dealt with."
Without waiting for a reply, his figure shifted—melting into the shadows like vapor, vanishing completely into the ruins and mist.
⸻
Meanwhile, elsewhere.
Marcellus fought to suppress the chaos and fury within. Though his body had not fully recovered, he donned his armor and insisted on leading the mission himself. His eyes held only one goal: to bring Livia back—at any cost—from that bastard's hands.
During the high-speed ride, Elias calmly analyzed the terrain based on Emma's directions, setting up relay points as they advanced. They finally neared the site where Livia had last sent a signal.
However—
Instead of Livia, they were met by a squad of heavily armed soldiers guarding the ruin's perimeter.
At their head stood the seasoned and cold-faced officer—Will.
A vein pulsed at Marcellus's temple. His voice was sharp with rage:
"Where is she? Where's Livia?!"
Will gave him a glance—cool, indifferent. His tone was hard as steel:
"You're too late."
"The individual inside—trespassing in a restricted military zone, resisting arrest, and attacking soldiers—was executed on the spot."
The moment those words dropped, the air froze solid.
Marcellus's mind exploded with a deafening boom. His vision went dark, a blow striking him straight in the chest. Blood surged in his throat, hot and metallic—he staggered, barely staying upright.
"What did you say… what did you just say?! You killed her?!"
His voice cracked, hoarse and trembling, as if his entire soul were collapsing.
Will merely gave him a bland look. "We carried out our orders by the book. If you're unhappy, file an official complaint."
With that, he turned coldly and gestured to his men: "Withdraw."
The soldiers moved in unison, sealing off the area so tightly it was as if no confrontation had ever happened.
But Marcellus wasn't about to let it go. He roared and made to charge forward—only for Elias to grab him by the arm and pull him back.
"Calm down!" Elias hissed, voice low and urgent. "If you rush in now, it's suicide."
Marcellus panted violently, eyes bloodshot, his whole body trembling with fury. He looked as if he'd go mad.
"They killed her—they killed Livia!"
But Elias's eyes remained razor-sharp. He lowered his voice and said firmly:
"No. They didn't. Listen to me—if she were really dead, Will wouldn't have bothered with that bullshit excuse. This is a cover-up. We still have a chance."
Marcellus stood frozen, fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. His chest rose and fell in violent waves.
Deep down, he too could sense it—the lie in Will's story. This "execution" was just a façade.