Chapter 297: Why all this murderous intent?
Chapter 297: Why all this murderous intent?
Amelia wasn’t just an ordinary peasant. She was the daughter of a fallen noble family, the sole survivor of an entire lineage that had once been respected.
The problem was that a noble without wealth, without armies, and without land was, at heart, not much different from any ordinary peasant.
Still, Amelia possessed an extraordinary talent. She had reached the fourth stage by the age of twenty, and now, at sixty, she had already made the leap to the fifth.
With a life expectancy stretching up to a thousand years, and a real chance of breaking through to the sixth stage, her value was simply incalculable.
It was precisely because of this rare talent that the Darkwall family patriarch, Maerick Darkwall, arranged—in consultation with the king—a political marriage between her and David Darkwal.
To David, that union mattered little.
He was a sword-obsessed man, and in his obsessive quest for an heir worthy of his name, he had already amassed several wives and a small horde of children over the years.
The fact that Amelia was even more talented than he was only excited him further.
After all, the chances of her bearing a child worthy of the Darkwall legacy would be far greater than with any other option.
Without any ceremony, he ordered her to abandon her studies in magic and prepare to bear his children—as many as necessary until a decent talent came into the world.
After that order, David spent an entire week in a coma, with several broken ribs and a collapsed lung.
And as if that weren’t enough, on their wedding day itself, Amelia simply refused to sleep with him and consummate the marriage.
That was the last straw for David Darkwall, who immediately began plotting his revenge.
He gathered resources, acquired a powerful artifact capable of sealing the powers of a fourth-stage mage, and prepared to turn Amelia into nothing more than a sperm bank—who would bear his children until he grew tired of her.
That night, David lost his balls and fell into a coma for nearly a month, with extremely severe injuries all over his body.
He didn’t even get to lay a finger on Amelia before she shattered the artifact.
That was the greatest failure of David’s life—a man who, for a long time, had been considered one of the most talented swordsmen of his generation, with enough potential to reach the fourth stage.
"ANSWER ME!" Amelia’s thunderous voice echoed once more, reverberating deep within David and causing him to clench his teeth so hard that his molars ground together.
"The boy was a lost cause, you crazy bitch!" David roared back, watching the beautiful face of the woman who was supposed to be his wife contort in a fury he had never witnessed before.
He had never really seen her angry.
On the day he tried to rape her, she stared at him with pure contempt and disgust plain in her eyes.
But real anger? Not really.
She was like a goddess observing an insignificant ant, about to crush it without even thinking twice.
At that moment, however, the fury emanating from Amelia was enough to freeze David’s blood and make his heart pound wildly in his chest.
An overwhelming murderous intent crashed down upon him, penetrating deep into his bones, and the man’s face contorted in sheer terror as Amelia raised her index finger—long, pale, and delicate—pointing straight at him.
A blue orb began to spin lazily at the tip of her finger, glowing with an intensity that made the hairs on David’s arms stand on end.
It seemed like a casual, careless attack, but the instant he saw that orb, David—and anyone present above the third stage—knew the absolute truth: unless the Darkwall family activated their protective barriers at full strength, the entire city center would be wiped off the map as if it had never existed.
Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary.
The very moment David reached out to activate the sealing arrays and put the family into full protection mode, he suddenly froze, sensing a familiar aura touch his perception.
Amelia fired the attack anyway, but the orb was sliced in half while still in the air, exploding in a wave of bluish light that spread out to the sides, covering the skies of Goldenveil like a shimmering cloak.
"Oh... daughter-in-law, what’s going on around here?"
All eyes turned toward the man who was calmly emerging from inside the Darkwall Mansion, each step echoing with serenity.
It was Maerick—one of the most powerful swordsmen in the kingdom. The Saint of the Sword. Guardian of the South. Dragon Slayer.
At eight hundred years old and at the absolute peak of the fifth stage, his presence alone was enough to freeze hearts.
Yet, standing before him, Amelia did not back down a single step.
The old man wore long black robes reminiscent of a monk’s garb, the fabric falling softly over his slender frame.
His aged face, marked by the lines of time, bore a calm, serene expression, and a gentle smile curved his thin lips as his fingers absentmindedly stroked his long white beard.
At his waist, he carried an ordinary sword—long and elegant.
"Father, I—"
"Enough." Maerick growled, swallowing the urge to kick his own son right there, in front of everyone.
One of his retainers was already relaying to him, via audio transmission, everything that had happened in recent years.
As he absorbed every detail of that disaster, the old man’s blood boiled.
He’d had that son quite late in life, and since he was already weary of ruling, he’d decided to hand the family reins over to David far too soon.
Shortly after the handover, he isolated himself in seclusion to tend to his interests, with not the slightest idea of what was unfolding outside.
If it weren’t for the countless family vassals present there at that moment, Maerick would already be beating his own son with his bare hands.
But he couldn’t afford that luxury. Doing so would destroy David’s prestige, and David still needed to remain the Lord.
"Lady Amelia, it’s truly a shame that my son has offended you in this way. But can’t we resolve this peacefully?"