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Pain exploded through him once more. Victor’s pupils trembled violently, filled with utter disbelief. Before this moment, no matter how many possibilities he had considered, he could never have predicted what had just happened.

He had been assassinated again. And the one who had stabbed him was neither the Moon Demon nor an assassin. It was his only son. His biological son. His real son. Julius.

Julius had been embracing him, embracing his closest blood relative. Yet hidden within the hands Victor could not see was a small surgical scalpel.

Ever since waking up, he had kept the scalpel concealed inside his sleeve, as though he had planned everything in advance. And now, taking advantage of the embrace, Julius gripped the scalpel tightly and, with every ounce of strength in his body, drove it viciously into Victor’s back.

The strike was frighteningly precise. The Moon Demon’s attack had used a larger blade than this scalpel, but it had only struck his abdomen. As a result, it had not been fatal.

This strike was different. The scalpel pierced through his back, penetrated a lung, and then accurately buried itself deep within his heart.

“Kh—cough! Cough—!”

His heart had been pierced, yet with the terrifying vitality of a peak Ninth Stage expert, Victor did not die immediately. He coughed up mouthful after mouthful of blood before violently shoving Julius away and staggering several steps backward.

“Why…?” He stared at Julius, whose eyes were bloodshot and whose entire body trembled uncontrollably. Yet despite the fear in him, his expression remained twisted with madness and savagery. Even now, Victor could not understand his motive.

“Hah… hah… Didn’t I already tell you? Because I don’t believe you! I don’t believe you’d actually give the Vermilion Pill to me!” Curled up in the corner of the bed, Julius avoided meeting Victor’s gaze. He looked like a wild dog that had been driven into a dead end.

In truth, he was no different from one now. A wild dog. And a brainless one at that. In order to become whole again, he had long since thrown away his reason. All that remained was instinct.

That was why he had dared to disregard everything and plunge a blade into his own father’s body. But Julius was nothing more than a cripple. How had he managed to drive a scalpel through the flesh of a peak Ninth Stage expert?

Victor sensed that there was something unusual about the weapon. A faint flow of spiritual energy circulated across its surface. It was no ordinary scalpel. But if it was extraordinary, then how had it ended up in Julius’ hands?

Victor recalled the elderly physician he had killed. That old doctor had been the most experienced physician in all of Maplefall Town. He had treated countless influential families over the years.

The City Lord’s Manor. The Wang Family. The Situ Family. And… The Ye Family.

Following that thread of thought and carefully unraveling the clues one by one, Victor pieced together countless fragments. At last, he seemed to have found the answer.

“What exactly did Landon promise you that made you such a beast that you’d raise your hand against your own father?!”

“…The Vermilion Pill… and the position of City Lord.” Under Victor’s imposing glare, the trembling Julius quickly spilled everything Landon had promised him. A Vermilion Pill that could heal his injuries. A City Lord’s position that was little more than an empty title.

Nothing but verbal promises. No guarantees. No tangible rewards. Yet that had been enough for the son he had once cherished beyond measure to turn a blade against him. Without the slightest hesitation.

At that moment, Victor felt no anger. Only an overwhelming sorrow. He had been considered a remarkable figure of his generation. Yet his own flesh and blood, his own son carrying his bloodline, had turned out to be this foolish. Was this truly retribution?

The light in Victor’s eyes gradually dimmed. A strange and sinister force flowed from the scalpel into his body. It rampaged through his vital meridians and acupoints, tearing open wounds while continuously aggravating the old injuries that already plagued him.

And from that strange energy, he sensed a familiar presence. The Moon Demon.

“So that’s how it is…” The Moon Demon and the Ye Family had been working together all along. So this was the *surprise* the Moon Demon had spoken of. What a surprise indeed.

“I never imagined that after all my years, I would ultimately fall by the hand of my own son.” Supporting himself against the wall, Victor slowly rose to his feet and staggered toward Julius.

He walked slowly, staggering with every step, as though he might collapse at any moment and never rise again.

Yet upon witnessing this scene, the fear in Julius’ eyes only deepened. He frantically retreated, desperately trying to put distance between himself and the dying man before him.

But there was nowhere left to go. A wall stood directly behind him. All he could do was curl himself tighter into the corner, clutch the scalpel in both hands, and wave it wildly in front of him.

“Don’t… don’t come any closer… I was forced into this too… I didn’t want to become a eunuch… If you had really been willing to give me the Vermilion Pill… I never would have resorted to this… So… this is all your fault… all your fault!”

Victor extended a hand and effortlessly brushed aside the scalpel Julius was frantically swinging. Then he pulled him into his embrace. As Victor stroked his son’s head, he suddenly realized that Julius had already grown nearly as tall as he was.

His vision gradually blurred until he could no longer make out the appearance of the son who was still struggling desperately in his arms. Yet as he held him like this, he suddenly remembered the first time he had ever carried him.

Back then, he had been tiny. Wrinkled. Ugly, even. Yet not once had Victor found him displeasing. Instead, he had sworn in his heart that he would give his son every good thing the world had to offer. Unfortunately, he had failed even that very first promise.

“So in the end… was the one at fault… still me?” Julius’ pleas, sobs, and accusations echoed endlessly beside his ears. Victor could feel death rapidly approaching. Yet even at the very end, he still could not let go of his son.

“After I die, how could Landon possibly spare you? A man like him would never allow himself to bear the blame for assassinating the City Lord. To silence you, he would only use the cruelest methods imaginable. In the end, you’ll most likely die without even leaving behind a complete corpse. But no matter what, you are still my son. How could I bear to watch your remains be left for wild dogs to tear apart and devour?”

Under Julius’ horrified gaze, Victor slowly tightened the hand resting atop his head.

“So come with me. It just so happens that father and son can continue our bond together, even in the underworld.”

A surge of qi burst forth from Victor’s hand. Julius’ eyes widened abruptly. Then all signs of life vanished from them.

***

Outside the Wang Family estate. Landon sat leisurely on a majestic chair, sipping tea in small, measured mouthfuls. His expression was calm and relaxed, as though he had merely come to enjoy the scenery while drinking tea. Yet no one present would have believed that. For hidden within the darkness behind him were countless figures.

Among them were experts from the Ye family, hired retainers, and numerous shadowy individuals dressed in black robes. And beyond the tall walls before him, the members of the Wang family found no sleep that night. Their gazes remained fixed upon him, heavy with vigilance and unease.

It was a moonless night with fierce winds. Those who had come bore ill intentions.

“Landon! What business brings you to my Wang Family in the dead of night?!” The estate gates suddenly swung open. The Wang Family head emerged. He appeared to be a frail old man standing at death’s doorstep, yet his eyes still shone with remarkable vigor. Leaning on a cane, he stepped forward and stopped before Landon.

“I advise you to think carefully before acting. My Wang Family is not one to be bullied!”

“Shh.” Landon suddenly raised a finger to his lips, signaling for the old man to be quiet. “Listen.”

“Listen to what?” The old man frowned. He was about to continue speaking. But at that moment, the sound of beating wings suddenly echoed through the night.

A pitch-black crow emerged from the darkness. It flew down and landed upon Landon’s arm. Its crimson eyes swept across the suspicious-looking elder. Then it spoke in a human voice. “Victor is dead.”