St Chaos Healer

Ch 78 - Escaping The Citadel

A tall, elderly man walked down a dimly lit corridor, the rhythmic tapping of his cane echoing through the chambers. His brilliantly red hair, neatly combed to the side, gleamed under the sparse lighting, and his gold-rimmed glasses glinted with each step. Sweat beaded on his furrowed brow as he hurried along, anxiety evident in his every movement. He was nervous and cautious, and his destination was a room at the end of the corridor.

The palace was vast and opulent, with masked guards in crimson armor stationed everywhere. The walls of the corridors were painted in rich hues of red and yellow, exuding a sense of grandeur and authority.

Despite the magnificence of his surroundings, the old man felt out of place. He had little choice but to heed the urgent summons.

Finally, he arrived at a door flanked by two guards in red armor. They acknowledged his presence with a curt nod and knocked.

"Just a moment," came a hoarse voice from within.

Muffled sounds of female laughter and moaning followed by a bed creaking could be heard from inside. It was clear there were several women in the room.

The old man's face twisted in disgust as he waited.

After what felt like an eternity, the noises ceased, and a tense silence fell over the room.

"Send him in," the voice commanded.

The guards opened the door, and the old man stepped inside.

A wave of intense heat hit the old man as the door opened, but he paid it no mind and stepped inside.

He entered a massive bedroom dominated by a grand, circular bed encircled by a moat of molten lava. Statues with open mouths lined the walls, continuously spewing magma that illuminated the room with a fiery glow.

The old man scowled at the sight.

A tall, muscular man with short-cropped hair and a rugged beard sat on the bed, his body glistening with sweat. Surrounding him were five naked women, nearly exhausted and unconscious, their bodies barely covered by the disheveled sheets.

The muscular man grinned at the old man, "Ah, you're here, Viscount Eric—or should I say, father-in-law?"

Viscount Eric stared back sternly. "That word from your mouth makes me want to retch, Lord Travis. Viscount will suffice."

The tall man was Travis Hellfire, grandmaster and principal of Bloodfire Academy.

"We're family; we shouldn't be so formal. Let's see..." Travis picked up a nearby woman's bra and casually wiped the sweat from his body. "You are the father of my fifth wife, so how about I call you Father Five?"

Travis's eyes gleamed with excitement as if he had come up with a brilliant idea.

Viscount Eric's face turned pale at the title. "I would rather you call me Viscount Eric."

"So, Father Five, do you know why I summoned you on such short notice?" Travis asked, a grin playing on his lips.

The old man let out a weary sigh. "Perhaps you received an order from Our Highness? Something important we must discuss in private?"

Travis looked at him with boredom, tossing the sweat-soaked bra into the moat of lava, where it ignited instantly and burned to ashes. "Father Five, you jest! Do you think I would summon you to my bedroom in the middle of the night for such a mundane matter?"

"Then I have no idea whatsoever."

Travis's eyes turned cold as he stared at the Viscount. The Viscount held his gaze, refusing to back down. Travis reached under his pillow and retrieved something, tossing it at the Viscount's feet. It was a pair of purple bracelets and a letter.