Chapter 45: Lies

The moment Kael’s words echoed through the clearing, the three of them froze in place.

Confused glances passed between them, filled with shock and even fear.

How on earth did Kael know that?

It had to be impossible. Only the three of them knew. Kael could never, ever have gotten that information unless one of them had let it slip.

But... who would be foolish enough to do something like that? It was pure suicide, with no benefit whatsoever.

"He’s lying, my love!" Lucian Purewind hurried to say, his voice coming out a notch higher than it should have, almost a shout.

"I would never do something like that to you, never, not in a thousand lifetimes! David is just a friend, and when the Secret Realm ends, he’ll take us to the Golden Alliance Sect. There, Selene won’t be able to touch you, and his master has no way of knowing who killed him! We’ll be safe!"

He reached out toward her as he spoke, his fingers trembling slightly, a thin sheen of sweat gathering at his temples despite the cool air.

Seraphine remained silent, her eyes fixed on that hand.

She’d been an orphan from an early age. A beautiful girl, even when she was still very young.

She grew up on the streets.

And one of the first things a pretty girl learns living on the street is how to spot the lie on a man’s face.

It was thanks to that instinct that she ended up with the Purewind family, and not in some cursed brothel.

It was an instinct that came naturally to Seraphine, honed by every cold night and every fake smile she had to flee from.

Unfortunately, over time with the Purewind family—always so sheltered—that instinct began to fade.

In the end, after so many years living as a rich girl, engaged to the heir of a powerful family, it had faded away completely.

Well, until now.

At this very moment, Seraphine felt that instinct explode inside her chest, hot and sharp as ever, rising up her throat like the taste of iron.

The instinct that had kept her from ending up in a brothel, in the hands of a sick man.

The instinct that had ensured her survival for so long on the streets.

Lucian was lying.

She was sure of it.

And so, Kael watched Seraphine’s acceptance finally break through the forty-nine-point mark and reach fifty.

She took a step back. Then another.

Tears streamed down her cheeks without pause, wetting her trembling chin and dripping onto the collar of her dress, leaving dark spots on the pale fabric.

"You crazy bitch, are you really going to give yourself up to Kael??? Do you think you’ll survive like this?" Lucian spat, the mask of the devoted husband finally slipping from his face. His outstretched hand curled into a fist.

Seraphine didn’t answer.

She took a step to the side, walked around Kael, and embraced him from behind, wrapping her slender arms around his waist and rubbing her wet face against his back.

Her fingers clenched the fabric of his clothes as if she feared someone would snatch her away from there.

She looked like a child—small and delicate, betrayed by the world, seeking her father’s protection.

Kael said nothing.

He felt her body trembling against his, the soft press of her chest flattening against his spine with every shaky breath, her ragged exhales warming the cloth over his back.

All the while, he watched the acceptance continue to rise, stopping just past eighty-five points.

She had already erased Lucian from her heart.

Now, the only one left there was Kael.

Honestly, everything made sense now.

Lucian had suddenly decided he wanted to marry her shortly after David’s visit to their family two years ago.

After the wedding, he refused to have any contact with her.

No kisses, no hugs, nothing.

At most, the occasional word of affection tossed into the air.

He made excuses, hiding everything behind a facade of respect.

She was just an animal waiting at the slaughterhouse, kept clean and untouched until the day of delivery.

"Ah... you filthy whore, I can’t wait to see the look on your face after we’re done with Kael!" Sol roared, his gaze locked on Kael as he drew his sword with a hiss of metal.

Kael didn’t move. He didn’t think it necessary.

Sol had barely advanced into the Foundation Realm.

Attacking like that was practically suicide.

Sol used his most powerful technique.

The air froze instantly, everyone’s breath turning into white mist. A sea of ice rose in the wake of the sword’s slash, crackling and sizzling as it surged across the ground and swallowed the grass, frost racing up the trunks of the nearest trees.

Kael moved just two fingers and, casually, parried the blow.

The impact didn’t even make him blink.

The young man didn’t have time to react.

His eyes widened as Kael pressed.

The sword shattered into shards, the technique smashed by sheer brute force, the ice crumbling into pieces around them both with a clink like broken glass.

Before Sol could open his mouth, Kael’s hand sank into his chest with a wet crunch of breaking bone, ripped out his heart, and crushed it.

Warm blood splattered onto the ground, steaming in the still-frozen air. The sharp, coppery smell of it spread through the clearing.

It all happened so fast that David, though far more powerful, barely managed to take fifty steps before Sol’s body was flung aside like an empty sack, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

Of course, David had only started moving once Sol was already on top of Kael, but even so, that speed was simply absurd.

He felt his stomach sink.

"This is no time for cowardice!" David roared at himself, gripping the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

He could do something like that, too.

"Kael, you son of a bitch, I’m going to cripple you and then rape that bitch right in front of you!"

David bellowed, brimming with arrogance and malice, as he thrust his sword forward.

A green dragon rose up around his blade, its scales of energy glowing, a deep roar vibrating through the air and shaking the leaves of the surrounding trees. Dust lifted from the frozen ground under the pressure.

An arrogant and proud power descended upon Kael; the dragon’s aura was almost palpable, weighing down the air like a storm about to break.

Behind him, Seraphine tightened her embrace, her face buried against his back, her small frame pressing closer as if she could hide inside him.

It was a powerful technique, but Kael wasn’t worried.

David was relatively strong for a cultivator at the peak of the Foundation Realm, but in the end, he had only a high-level foundation. And a considerably weak one at that.

His base attributes averaged around five hundred and fifty, perhaps six hundred.

That was good compared to useless fools like Lucian and Sol.

But Kael was above all that. Far above.

His spear moved, and to David, the world seemed to move along with it.

His eyes filled with shock and, for a moment, regret.