Chapter 150
Eliza turned and looked down at Sophie, who was lying on the ground, her face frozen in shock, eyes wide with disbelief. Slowly, Eliza said, “I believe it was Gilbert Stuart.”
The moment Sophie heard the name, she let out a muffled, furious scream. But her mouth had been tightly gagged by Eliza, so the words never made it out.
If Sophie could speak, she would have demanded answers. “How do you know him? How do you even know what he looks like? How?”
Sophie clearly remembered that Gilbert had never shown up in Hasen City. He had never even crossed paths with Eliza. And yet Eliza knew all about him.
The way she described him, it sounded as though she had seen Gilbert with her own eyes. But that was absolutely impossible.
Gilbert was Sophie’s trump card, a deadly foreign assassin left to her by her mother.
To keep him hidden, Sophie had completely cut off contact with Gilbert ever since returning to the Duke’s estate. They had no Jetters, no signals. There was nothing.
She had only reached out because she had lost control of the people inside the estate. That letter she wrote to Gilbert was just yesterday.
‘How could Eliza speak of him like she’s known him for ages when I only wrote that letter a day ago?‘ Sophie thought, a chill running down her spine. ‘Did Gilbert betray me?‘
But no, that could not be it. If Gilbert had turned against Sophie, Eliza would not have ordered him captured. She would already have him on her side.
The realization shook Sophie to her core. Just yesterday, she had been desperately hoping Gilbert would come rescue her. Now, all she could do was pray he sensed something was off and pulled back before it was too late.
As long as Gilbert was still alive, Eliza would never dare to kill Sophie. But if Gilbert got caught or worse, if he died, then it would all be over for her.
The next morning, just as expected, Nolan had Sophie tied up and thrown into a carriage like cargo. Then, leading an army, he personally rode ahead to clear the path.
Maybe that bold move struck a nerve, because starting that very day, a wave of assassins began to descend upon them, one ambush after another.
But their numbers were too few, and they were no match for Nolan and his Black Flag.
The attackers were wiped out group after group. None of them even managed to get within ten feet of Eliza’s carriage.
Whoever was behind them must have finally realized they were outmanned and outgunned. And their opponent was not someone easily taken down.
So instead, they rushed ahead, straight toward Blacklow Mount, a pass Eliza and Nolan would inevitably have to cross on the way to Plutonville.
After scouring the terrain, they managed to find it, a stronghold buried deep in the mountain, long rumored to be impenetrable, the Onyxgrave Bastion. Word had it that the king had tried to take it down at least ten times, all ending in failure.
“Athousand royal soldiers escorting over twenty carts of supplies. We’re talking food, money, more than enough for you and your boys to live large for years if you pull this off. What do you say, Deemer? Interested?” a voice sounded.
Outside the bandits‘ main camp, a tall foreign man stood calmly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though danger glinted in his eyes. His left hand rested in front of him, his right tucked behind his back.
1/2
A seasoned bandit leader, rugged, scarred, and wild–eyed, burst into loud laughter. “Well now, that’s quite the offer. Can’t say if it’s true or just a load of horse crap, but for someone like you to come all the way here, you’ve gotten to have something solid up your sleeve. Sounds like you don’t want goods and money?. So what is it you want?”
Gilbert narrowed his eyes slightly. “I want two of the women in that caravan. One dead. One alive.”
Just then, outside the field of vision of the others in Onyxgrave Bastion, something stirred beneath Gilbert’s sleeve. A jet–black centipede slithered out from under his cuff, dropped to the ground, and began to crawl.
Hidden beneath dry leaves and low brush, it moved swiftly and silently toward the bandits‘ base.
