Chapter 115: How Did You Know

“My own son…” the general spat, pointing a trembling finger toward the doorway. “Stripping away my power piece by piece while I sat trapped in this bed!”

“He thinks he’s fit to rule? With his personality and weak resolve? He is going to lead this family straight into ruin!”

His raspy voice cracked, turning into a dark, bitter laugh.

“And the royal family…” He clenched his chest, gasping for air. “I bled for them! I gave them my entire youth, my health, my life!”

“And the moment my body broke, what did they do? They discarded me like garbage!”

“They treated me like a dog that outlived its usefulness!”

He glared at Derrick and Keira, his face twisted in desperate madness.

“I was going to fix it all,” he whispered hoarsely, his body shaking with fury. “I was going to take back everything that was stolen from me!”

Just then,

“Father…”

Every head in the room snapped toward the entrance.

Standing in the doorway were Chen Feng and Chen Weian.

Behind them stood Alchemist Feng Yuan, restrained firmly by two heavy guards.

Feng Yuan looked completely broken. His face was drained of all color, his eyes wide with terror, and his entire frame trembled violently as if his soul had been ripped straight out of him.

The one who had spoken was Chen Feng.

He stared at his father with a look of deep pain and quiet heartbreak.

“I knew you didn’t approve of me taking over as the family head,” Chen Feng said softly, his voice shaking. “But I never thought you harbored so much hatred for me.”

General Chen stared at his son.

Slowly, the wild rage in the old man’s eyes faded, replaced by hollow exhaustion.

All the remaining strength seemed to drain out of his body at once.

He let out a long, heavy sigh and sank back against the pillows of his bed, looking older and frail once again.

“I don’t hate you…” General Chen whispered, his gaze drifting down to his frail, trembling hands.

“I hated myself.”

He closed his eyes, his voice cracking with unbearable regret.

“I hated myself for being weak… and for letting myself get injured on that cursed day.”

General Chen slowly turned his head away from his son, his hollow gaze fixing on Derrick.

“How?” the old man asked, his voice barely more than a dry rasp. “How did you know… that it was me who hired him?”

The room went completely quiet. Even the guards holding Feng Yuan held their breath.

Derrick stepped closer to the foot of the bed, his demeanor calm and unbothered.

“It was the way he looked at you earlier,” Derrick said. “Right when you said that you are getting better and told him you didn’t want his treatment anymore.”

Derrick glanced over at the trembling alchemist, whose head was bowed in shame.

“No one in the room was looking at the alchemist when you said that so they did notice when his face paled when you said that.” Derrick continued smoothly.

“I would have thought it was because he failed to poison that’s what feared him.”

He paused, letting the silence build in the room.

“But I was watching his eyes.”

Derrick looked back at General Chen, his gaze piercing.

“He was scared that you would think his medicine was actually making you better.”

“You know he either looked at your sons with contempt, arrogance or slight fear.

But, the person he feared most in that entire room wasn’t the strongest cultivator present.

It was you—the sick old man lying bedridden in front of him.”

General Chen’s breath hitched slightly.

Keira stepped forward, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Was power really worth discarding your humanity for?”

General Chen shook his head, clutching the bedsheets tightly.

“You don’t understand,” he rasped weakly. “I just wanted to be powerful again! That doesn’t mean I was going to become one of those bastards from the Hand of the Fallen One!”

The moment the name left his lips, Chen Feng and Keira both flinched.

Even the guards holding the alchemist stiffened, a heavy chill falling over the entire room.

Derrick rubbed his chin, a sudden look of realization crossing his face.

“Oh,” Derrick said quietly. “So that’s what that tattoo meant?”

Chen Feng and Keira snapped their heads toward him at the exact same time.

“What tattoo?” they asked sharply.

Derrick walked up toward Chen Feng, then moved right past him toward the detained alchemist.

Feng Yuan tried to pull back, but the two guards held him in a iron grip.

Derrick reached out and forcefully pulled up the sleeve of the alchemist’s coat.

“I caught a glimpse of this earlier,” Derrick said, pointing to the alchemist’s forearm.

Inked deep into the pale skin was a dark sigil—a severed hand wrapped in heavy, tight chains.

Even without touching it, the mark gave off a foul, nauseating vibe that made the air feel cold.

The moment the sigil was revealed, the air in the room grew deathly cold.

Chen Feng, Keira, and the guards flared their Enhanced energy all at once.

BOOM!

An overwhelming wave of pressure exploded outward, crashing down like a invisible mountain.

The sheer, crushing weight of their combined power locked entirely onto the helpless alchemist.

Derrick felt a sharp shiver run straight down his spine.

His instinct screamed as the terrifying aura pressed against his skin, making his hair stand on end.

Yeah, I am out of here.

Without missing a single beat, Derrick rushed across the floor and ducked right behind Keira, using her like a human shield.

Targeted by multiple high-level experts at once, Feng Yuan let out a strangled gasp.

His knees buckled instantly, slamming hard into the floor under the absolute pressure pinning him down.

Chen Feng looked down at Feng Yuan with eyes so cold it felt as though he were staring at the most heinous criminal in the history of the world.

“I will question you later,” Chen Feng said, his voice laced with venom.

He turned to the guards and ordered sharply, “Seal his energy reserves and throw him in the dungeon.”

Keira snarled at her grandfather, her posture tense and furious. “Did you know he was one of them?!”