Chapter 118: A Festivals Happy End 2
Standing near the colosseum’s gate, Hajey Gyeoul, the son of Hojun Gyeoul the next head of the Gyeoul family, exuded an air of undeniable authority and irritation.
His crimson-red eyes flared with intensity, reflecting the frustration he felt.
Dressed in a black kimono and an outer eastern coat, his attire made it clear that he was not from the western lands.
The eerie and dangerous aura around him only added to his formidable presence.
He stood with his arms crossed, his posture rigid and impatient, waiting for a certain person to arrive. The atmosphere around him seemed to crackle with a barely-contained anger.
“Young master,” came a timid voice from behind him.
Hajey turned abruptly, his anger palpable as he glared at his bowing attendant. The attendant, clearly intimidated, fidgeted nervously.
“What?” Hajey snapped, his voice sharp and cold.
“Lady Bom is looking for you,” the attendant said quickly, his eyes wide with apprehension. “She asks why you’re not—”
“Tsk! Just tell that bitch that I’m not going to sit and wait in that goddamn loud colosseum anymore!” Hajey interrupted, his voice filled with contempt.
The attendant flinched at the harsh words, but quickly continued, “She also says that the two of you should cheer on young lady Seo together.”
Hajey’s irritation grew as he took a menacing step forward, grabbing the collar of his attendant with a vice-like grip. “Did you not hear what I just said or are you deaf?” he demanded, his voice dripping with scorn.
The attendant struggled to maintain his composure under Hajey’s intense gaze. “B-but young master, Lady Bom might—”
“I don’t care what that fucking bitch does,” Hajey cut him off, his grip tightening. “I’m not going. Just tell that stupid sister of mine that I’m not feeling well or something.”
His words were laced with a mix of frustration and contempt, clearly showing how little regard he had for his sister’s wishes. The attendant, shaking with fear, nodded quickly, eager to escape the confrontation.
Throwing his attendant to the ground, Hajey’s face twisted into a snarl of irritation. With a contemptuous kick, he sent the attendant sprawling, his voice dripping with disdain. “Now hurry up and move along, dog!”
The attendant scrambled to his feet, his face pale with a mixture of fear and frustration. Without a word, he hastened away, disappearing down the corridor.
Despite his dissatisfaction with Hajey’s response, he knew better than to argue with someone as harsh and unforgiving as his young master.
Hajey watched the attendant’s retreating figure with a scowl, his anger palpable.
“Tsk! Did Bom really think I’d cheer for that fucking bitch born from that slut of a mother?” he muttered angrily, the mere thought of Seo’s face souring his mood further.
His sister Bom should have known better than to expect him to support Seo, but she continued to press him, as if he could be swayed by her persistent pleas.
His hatred for Seo was unwavering, a fact that seemed to only solidify with time.
Bom’s attempts to reconcile or change his opinion were futile; his disdain for Seo was as ingrained in him as any fundamental belief.
To him, Seo was an embodiment of everything he despised, and no amount of persuasion or familial duty could alter that deep-seated animosity.
Feeling a surge of irritation, Hajey fixed his gaze on one of his guards, his frustration barely contained. “Hey, did you prepare the orb already?”
The middle-aged guard, visibly anxious under Hajey’s piercing stare, swallowed hard but maintained his composure. “Yes, young master,” he said, his voice trembling slightly as he retrieved a small, shimmering orb from his pocket dimension.
Hajey’s lips curled into a smirk as he inspected the orb, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.
This orb was a crucial part of his plan, offering a layer of protection against Seo’s potential retaliation.
With it, he could ensure that Seo wouldn’t be able to retaliate effectively, giving him and his subordinates some significant advantage and assurance.
In Hajey’s mind, Seo’s achievements were nothing more than a façade, a sham propped up by the circumstances of her birth.
“A freak and a bastard like her doesn’t deserve all the praise she gets!” he seethed inwardly.
To him, Seo’s recognition and talents were nothing but hollow victories—merely the result of an inheritance from their father.
He believed that someone like her, born from a despised mistress, could never possess true talent.
All the strength and accolades she displayed were, in his view, nothing more than borrowed glory, a mockery of true ability.
With a fierce determination, Hajey’s thoughts turned dark. “With her mother in my hands, that bitch can do nothing…” he mused, seeing himself as the one to bring justice to what he perceived as a gross injustice.
Hajey’s mind raced with his plans.
‘This time, I’ll uncover how she managed to inherit Father’s strength.’
His resentment towards Seo had reached a boiling point, driven by the belief that her achievements were a mere illusion, propped up by circumstances beyond her control.
Despite his aversion to directly engaging with Seo, the situation was urgent. The impending announcement of the next Gyeoul head heir loomed large in his mind.
As their grandfather prepared to step down, the position of family head would naturally fall to their father.
This transition meant that every one of his children, including himself, had the potential to be the next head of the Gyeoul household.
However, Seo’s remarkable talent and accomplishments had already made her the most prominent and esteemed among the five siblings.
Her future seemed secure, her status and success nearly guaranteed.
Hajey’s anger was palpable.
The thought of Seo, born from a despised mistress, eclipsing him, the son of the first wife, was unacceptable.
The Gyeoul throne and the prestigious title of heir should be his by right.
The idea that Seo might be positioned for the headship infuriated him. He viewed her success not as a reflection of true merit but as a result of deceit and manipulation.
To him, using Seo’s gullibility to his advantage was not just an option; it was a necessity. If he could undermine her and expose her as a fraud, it would clear the path for his ascension.
“You prepare the spells, and you prepare an emergency celestial scroll in case things go south!” Hajey barked out the orders to his four guards, his voice edged with urgency.
He was acutely aware that his actions were both hasty and fraught with risk, but the stakes were too high to back down now.
For the sake of his clan and his own ambitions, he was determined to obtain what Seo possessed.
Her talent was something he needed to seize, and he was prepared to go to any lengths to achieve it.
Seo’s unpredictable yet strangely predictable nature was a constant variable in his plans. Hajey understood that confronting her directly might provoke a fierce reaction.
Given the right trigger—like mentioning her mother—she could become violently unmanageable.
That was why he was ensuring that his escape options were meticulously planned and readily available. Failure was not an option he could entertain.
“Give me that orb!” Hajey demanded sharply, his eyes locked onto the middle-aged guard holding the crucial item.
Before the guard could comply, a swift movement intervened. A hand reached out and snatched the orb from the guard’s grasp.
The figure who took the orb emerged like the shadows under them his demeaner etched with an air of casual nonchalance.
“So, the fodder boss and his mobs are already here, huh?” The young man’s tone was both mocking and confident, clearly enjoying the situation.
“You…why are you here?”. Hajey’s eyes widened slightly in surprise as he recognized the intruder.
“Riley Hell….”
“Hm… I just passed by?”
Riley Hell stood before him with a self-assured smirk, his demeanor betraying no hint of concern over the confrontation.
His casual stance and the ease with which he had taken the orb contrasted sharply with the tension and urgency that Hajey was feeling.
“But you know me, Mr. Annoying Fodder Boss Number 4?” Riley’s voice carried an undertone of mockery, a casual air of disdain evident in his words.
‘Annoying fodder boss?’ Hajey’s brows furrowed in confusion. Although he didn’t fully grasp the context of Riley’s words, the intent was clear—the young man was taunting him.
“Yes, your fight with Lucas was rather memorable…”
“Hm~~” Riley continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Is that so?”
“Though, I have to wonder, was it really? From what I’ve seen, your attitude seems to suggest that you find most fights boring, especially those that showcase real talent. You must be quite envious of those who actually have it.”
Hajey’s face grew stony, the silence that followed Riley’s comment weighed heavily in the air.
The tension was palpable, and the audible gulps from Hajey’s guards indicated their unease. In Hajey’s world, there were two triggers that could ignite his fury: Seo’s name and the concept of being deemed talentless. Riley’s veiled insult had clearly struck a nerve.
The guards shifted uneasily, acutely aware of the volatile nature of their master. Hajey’s fists clenched at his sides as he fought to keep his composure, the anger simmering just beneath the surface.
“Mr. Riley Hell…” Hajey said, forcing a tone of calmness that barely masked his agitation. “I believe this is the first time we’ve met. Could you explain why you seem to harbor such animosity towards me? And, more importantly, why do you still have my orb?”
Riley’s smirk remained intact, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“Ah, the orb. I was just holding onto it for you. You seemed to be so preoccupied with your plans that I thought it might be best if I kept it safe for you. As for the animosity, let’s just say that your reputation precedes you. I’ve heard quite a bit about your… ‘qualities.'”
Hajey’s jaw tightened. “You’re treading on thin ice, Mr. Hell. I suggest you return what you’ve taken and leave before things escalate.”
Riley raised an eyebrow, his demeanor remaining disturbingly calm. “Escalation, huh… Hahaha, you know, you’re using the same line you always do when you’re annoyed.”
“What are you talking about?” Hajey snapped, his irritation palpable. “Do you think this is a joke?”
Snap!
In a coordinated movement, Hajey’s guards drew their swords in unison, the metal gleaming ominously.
They pointed their blades with deadly precision, their cold tips just millimeters away from Riley’s exposed neck.
The tension was thick, every guard’s face set with grim determination.
Despite the guards’ aggressive stance, Riley remained unfazed. He knew they were unlikely to pose a serious threat to him, especially given the state he was in.
His injuries were severe, his body wrapped in bandages and visibly weakened.
The sight of him now, after witnessing his prowess on stage, painted a stark contrast—he looked almost pitiful, as if the stress and pain were a mere afterthought to him.
Yet, the guards were not to be underestimated. Each of them was a skilled warrior, trained to protect the Gyeoul family at all costs.
Their mana senses were honed to detect threats and weaknesses, and they had carefully assessed Riley’s condition.
The assessment was clear: Riley’s mana reserves were significantly depleted, and he was in no state to defend himself effectively.
Hajey, too, had noted this shift. The confidence in his stance was tinged with a subtle calculation as he observed Riley’s weakened form.
He had seen Riley’s capabilities on display, but the current situation painted a different picture—one of vulnerability.
“Riley Hell,” Hajey said, his voice cold and commanding. “I’m giving you one last chance. Hand over the orb before things take a turn for the worse.”
Riley met Hajey’s gaze with a defiant smirk, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and contempt.
The tension in the air was almost palpable, the atmosphere charged with the impending clash.
Riley tried to hold back his laughter, but the pressure was too much, and a loud, mocking chuckle escaped his lips.
“Man, I was wondering if the devs just gave up on you…” Riley said, his voice dripping with sardonic amusement.
“Huh?” Hajey’s brow furrowed in confusion, caught off guard by the unexpected remark.
“No, it’s just that most of your lines are straight out of the idiotic villain handbook or the arrogant villain playbook.” Riley’s grin widened as he looked at Hajey, who was growing increasingly frustrated.
“This bastard… Do you wish to die so eagerly, Mr. Hell?” Hajey’s voice was laced with barely-contained rage. The guards tightened their grips on their swords, sensing the rising tension.
“Nah,” Riley replied, his tone nonchalant. “How about you though, Mr. Hajey? Do you wish to live?”
Before Hajey could react, Riley tightened his grip on the orb, channeling mana into his palm.
The orb, which was once an emblem of Hajey’s plans and power, began to crack and crush under the intense pressure of Riley’s mana.
The faint, pulsing glow of the orb was extinguished as its fragments scattered across the floor.
“You…” Hajey’s voice was a low growl, his face contorting with rage as he watched the pieces of his prized possession shatter. His anger was palpable, his eyes blazing with fury.
“Kill that fucking bastard!” Hajey roared, his voice echoing through the hall. The guards immediately advanced, their swords glinting as they closed in on Riley with lethal intent.
“Geez, even your tantrums are predictable,” Riley said, his smirk unwavering. “This must be the reason why you’re the weakest of all the villains introduced in the story.”
The guards hesitated for a split second, thrown off by Riley’s audacity and the sudden destruction of the orb
But the command had been given, and their loyalty to Hajey kept them moving forward.
As Hajey’s guards moved to carry out their master’s orders, their blades poised to strike, something inexplicable happened.
The moment the thought of violence crossed their minds, their bodies seemed to freeze in place.
It wasn’t just their limbs that were immobile; it felt as if their very souls had been gripped by an unseen force.
A chilling, familiar presence descended upon them, enveloping the space in an oppressive atmosphere.
The overwhelming pressure was like a physical weight, crushing them from all sides. Panic set in as they struggled to comprehend the source of the sudden dread.
Blood began to seep from their mouths, their strength visibly waning under the invisible onslaught.
The guards looked up, their faces pale with terror, only to meet Riley’s cold, emotionless blue eyes.
Those eyes, devoid of any warmth or compassion, bore into them with an intensity that made their blood run cold.
The sense of dread was palpable, a reflection of the raw, unfiltered power that Riley exuded. It was a power that seemed to have no bounds, leaving them paralyzed and helpless.
Hajey watched in stunned disbelief, his mind racing to understand what was happening.
He looked at Riley, who stood there with an expression of icy detachment.
Riley’s presence and the overwhelming aura he projected were disturbingly reminiscent of Seo.
The similarity was undeniable, from the sheer force of their power to the cold, calculating nature that radiated from them.
As Riley’s gaze remained fixed on Hajey, an unsettling realization dawned on him. The aura Riley emitted was almost identical to the one he had felt when Seo had demonstrated her formidable abilities.
The thought that Riley might possess similar—or even greater—power was both horrifying and awe-inspiring.
‘Why does this bastard have it as well?????’
Riley’s movements were swift and deliberate. In a flash, he closed the distance between himself and Hajey, seizing the collar of his kimono with a grip as unyielding as iron.
Riley’s hand tightened around Hajey’s throat, lifting him slightly off the ground, his fingers exerting a pressure that made it difficult for Hajey to breathe.
“Hajey Gyeoul…” Riley’s voice was a low, menacing growl, each word dripping with cold malice. “Let me ask you again. Do you wish to live?”
“B-Bastard l—et me…. Goo…..”
The announcer’s announcement echoed inside the area they were in, his loud voice amplified by his magic mic.
“Winner Seo Gyeoul!!!”
Yet the room was filled with a tense silence despite the ongoing cheers of celebration happening outside, the only sounds being the ragged breaths of Hajey and the muffled groans of his incapacitated guards.
