Chapter3

The stinging pain from the shards of glass embedded in my knee had been lingering for who knows how long. Warm blood trickled slowly down from below my knee, flowing down my calf and into my boot, clinging stickily to my ankle. I looked down at the blurry reflection on the marble floor—a silhouette kneeling in a pool of blood and wine, blood still seeping from the penetrating wounds in my shoulders into my coat.

Someone poured a glass of red wine over their head. The sticky liquid dripped down their hair, blurring their vision, and a few drops ran down their neck, wetting their collar. The people around them laughed even louder.

"This is so boring." Viktor kicked away a few larger shards of glass at his feet, his tone utterly listless. "What's the use of keeping a dog that won't even bark?"

He raised his foot, clad in a custom-made leather shoe, and hovered it above the remote control. The sole of the shoe gleamed, reflecting the light from the chandelier. My heart clenched, and my gaze was fixed on the trajectory of that shoe as it fell.

"Don't touch it." My voice was hoarse, with a metallic taste in my throat, and each word seemed to be squeezed out from between my teeth.

Viktor looked down at me, a wide smile slowly spreading across his face. He stomped his foot hard.

Smack

The sharp crack of the plastic casing shattering was particularly jarring in the suddenly quiet banquet hall. Shards, carrying tiny sparks, flew in all directions, creating ripples on the surface of the red wine. The circuit board inside the remote control broke in two, and the red light went completely out.

The holographic screen in mid-air flashed twice. The steadily beating green electrocardiogram broke instantly, turning into a straight horizontal line. Then, the entire screen turned into a glaring scarlet background, and huge warning words popped up.

Main power has been cut off. Backup life support system activated. Countdown: 180 seconds.

A cold, synthesized voice emanated from the tablet's speaker; the volume wasn't loud, but each word pierced the eardrums like a knife. One hundred and eighty seconds. Three minutes later, the backup power would run out, and Elena's vital signs would drop to zero.

The last glimmer of hope I had gained by sacrificing all my dignity and letting myself be trampled on was crushed to dust by his single foot. All my forbearance, all my restraint, all my self-persuasion—that the cryo-chamber could hold, that he wouldn't dare to actually do it, that there would be a turning point if I just got through this night—was shattered completely at that moment.

It turns out he never intended to leave himself any way out from the beginning. My compliance was just an extra incentive for him to have more fun.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment. The laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the clicking of camera shutters in the hall quickly faded away, leaving behind an abyss-like silence. I could only hear my own heartbeat, pounding against my chest, each beat carrying the dull echo of a powerful force striking a bone-piercing nail.

The bone-sealing nails embedded in the shoulder bones emitted a piercing metallic wail. The sound was like the screeching of a thin wire being repeatedly bent to its limit, so high it made one's teeth ache. The long-suppressed qi burst forth with an earthquake-like explosion, breaking through the cracks in its restraint, like magma breaking through the earth's crust, sweeping through every inch of the meridians.

I slowly raised my head. Red wine and blood dripped from my bangs, trickling down my brow bone. In the depths of my once-dark pupils, a dark golden light surged amidst the turmoil of despair and rage—the iris color change reaction that occurs when the concentration of my inner energy exceeds a critical threshold, a hallmark of the God of War of the Sky when he unleashes his full power.

Spiderweb-like cracks began to appear on the marble floor beneath their feet. The cracks radiated outwards from where their knees touched the ground, fine and intricate like a tortoise shell. A violent killing intent erupted like a tsunami, an invisible pressure enveloping the entire floor; the structural integrity of the hundred-story building groaned under its force. The giant crystal chandelier overhead swayed wildly, dozens of chandeliers collided, and shards of glass rained down like hail. The surrounding celebrities were thrown to the ground, wine glasses slipping from their hands and shattering everywhere; some screamed, covering their ears, while others huddled in corners, trembling.

The color drained from Viktor's face the moment I looked up. His lips still held that same smile, but they were trembling. When his gaze met the dark gold in my eyes, he seemed to be gripped tightly by something, staggering back two steps, his boots slipping on the spilled wine and nearly causing him to fall.

I stared at his face, which was gradually contorting with fear, and uttered each word slowly and hoarsely, with a rough, rusty quality: "Why do you—why are you so determined to die?"

As those words fell, the two piercing nails in his shoulder blades simultaneously emitted their final, sharp, mournful cry. The pressure lines on the nails shattered completely, turning into iron powder mixed with his flesh and blood.

The protective energy was finally fully unleashed.