Rising from the Ashes (Andrew and Lauren)

Andrew narrowed his eyes. "You said there's trouble around you, Mr. Thornton? What kind of trouble?"

Jerome let out a cold snort. "Some people in the Southern Martial Union think I've held the position for too long. They're getting impatient, and I think you know exactly what that means. To be honest, even though all the evidence points to the Eastonians being responsible for my poisoning, I know for a fact that someone else is behind it."

Andrew's unease, which had been quietly simmering, surged to the surface. "Do you have any idea who it is?"

Jerome's expression turned icy. "I have a good guess. But right now, I don't have any concrete evidence yet. Still, it doesn't matter. These people aren't capable of flipping things around just yet. I am still more than enough to handle these rats in the dark."

Andrew suddenly recalled something and gave a light laugh. "I believe that. It's clear everything's under your control. No wonder I was questioned by a martial king when I arrived earlier. Looks like you've got high-level protection all around."

Jerome paused. "A martial king questioned you? At the entrance of the main hall?"

Andrew nodded. "Exactly. There was a martial king guarding the front gate personally."

Jerome's face shifted instantly, his voice rising in alarm. "Dr. Lloyd! Did you recognize him? Can you describe him?"

Andrew immediately sensed something was off from the seriousness in Jerome's eyes. As the image resurfaced in his mind, he quickly shared the details. "He was a short old man. Oh, and he had a red ribbon tied around his sleeve!"

"A red ribbon... Red..." Jerome repeated it softly under his breath, then suddenly gasped and inhaled sharply.

He exclaimed, "This is bad. That's the Fischer family's elite guard! They've already made their move! Dr. Lloyd, go! Use the back exit and get out of here now! Go, now!"

He shoved Andrew toward the rear just as he shouted urgently. Just then, a deafening crash rang out.

The side hall doors blew apart as a wave of raw energy surged in like a storm cloud, instantly swallowing the entire room.

Andrew's muscles visibly rippled under the pressure. A terrifying sense of danger gripped him, one he rarely ever felt. And whenever he did, it meant only one thing: this was extreme danger.

His instincts kicked in like clockwork. Within seconds, Andrew realized that it was already too late.

At least two martial saints had already locked down Jerome's private chamber, forming a net that could not be escaped.

'Two martial saints?' Andrew was shocked. He had not expected the situation to spiral this fast.

He had done everything he could to avoid getting sucked into this storm. Yet, he somehow still ended up right at the center of it.

"Mr. Thornton, looks like we're completely surrounded," Andrew said with a bitter smile, knowing escape was impossible.

He had no intention of fleeing alone

anyway. After learning about

Jerome's past connection with Reginald and how he had traveled north to Chetvine for a rescue

mission ten years ago, his

hove

conscience would not allow him to

abandon Jerome and leave.

Thunderous laughter echoed from outside the hall. "Jerome! We're here today to send you off to the afterlife!"

The pressure of martial energy roared in from every direction, seeping into every inch of the space.

Andrew's gaze sharpened as henoveldrama

watched the rooftop of the side hall rip clean off under an invisible force. Massive timber beams, thick enough for two adults to wrap their arms around, were uprooted with a sickening crack.

Outside, positioned at three corners of the building in a triangular formation, stood

three figures, each giving off an overwhelming presence.

It was Henry, Grace, and Edwin Pennyworth, a sharply dressed gentleman in a

pristine tuxedo, flawless leather shoes, and a gold-threaded cane.

There was not just one martial saint, but three!