As night deepened, Blanche traveled with Snowy, but they didn’t venture far from Oakvale. She found a secluded cave in a remote forest area to rest and recover from her injuries.
Yesterday’s battle with Narcissa had ended in her favor, but it had aggravated old wounds. She needed time to stabilize her condition.
Snowy lay quietly beside her, licking her front paw. Its amber eyes occasionally glanced toward the cave entrance with watchful alertness. Blanche’s thoughts were far from peaceful. She knew Narcissa’s vindictive nature all too well.
If Octavius hadn’t suddenly appeared and vouched for Narcissa, she would never have let Narcissa leave so easily. He seemed impartial on the surface, but his attitude was ambiguous, as if he had hidden motives.
And behind Narcissa stood the Jornells of Amethysius, a powerful force among the hidden cultivator families, known for their ruthless methods.
“The Weston family…”
Blanche thought of those ordinary people trembling under Narcissa’s tyranny and sighed inwardly.
She’d intervened partly for Snowy, but also because she couldn’t stand watching Narcissa and her son slaughter innocent people indiscriminately.
But if she could save them once, could she save them forever? She had her own troubles now, surrounded by powerful enemies on all sides.
She took out the medicine Dustin had given her and swallowed another tablet. The medicine spread through her body, nourishing her damaged circulatory pathways.
Dustin, that young man who couldn’t use his cultivation but possessed extraordinary medical skills. The pendant he’d given her was still with her, warm and smooth to the touch. He’d said that if she ever needed help, she could find him. 2
But what could an ordinary mortal do in Oakvale, where dangerous undercurrents were swirling?
Blanche shook her head, pushing aside those distracting thoughts, and focused on circulating her internal energy. She hadn’t expected retaliation to come so swiftly and so brutally. At the Weston estate, everyone was on edge. They were jittery and restless as if a sudden alarm had gone off.
Oswald seemed to have aged ten years overnight. He forced himself to stay strong, directing family members to clean up the aftermath and treat the injured.
Rachel, whose hand had been severed, had nearly bled out. Though they’d managed to save her life, she was now permanently disabled and on the verge of mental collapse.
Marilyn, with her now injured face, and the other wounded family members were all submerged in fear and grief.
Oswald took out several treasured antique and gold artifacts from the family collection. He wanted to sell everything and relocate the entire family to somewhere in the south with their distant relatives, far from this dangerous place.
Before they could even begin to act, doom arrived at their doorstep.
Narcissa returned with her three guards, appearing directly at the entrance of the Weston estate. She’d tried to cover the injuries on her face with powder, but the venom and murderous intent in her eyes were impossible to hide.
“You… Why have you come back?”
The Weston family’s housekeeper, guarding the gate, saw them and turned deathly pale. He turned to run inside and raise the alarm.
Ragnar scoffed, raising his hand and releasing an energy pulse. It pierced through the housekeeper’s back, and he collapsed without a sound.
Narcissa didn’t even glance at the body as she strode into the estate.
Members of the Weston family who heard the commotion rushed out. When they saw the vengeful cultivators had returned, despair washed over them.
“Please… Please spare us, Lady Narcissa.”
Oswald dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his weathered face.
“We meant no disrespect. What happened yesterday was purely accidental. We’ll give you everything we own, so please show mercy and spare us.”
“Everything you own?”
Narcissa sneered, her gaze sweeping over the trembling crowd like they were sheep waiting for slaughter.
“You think the possessions of ants like you are worth my attention? I’m here to collect a debt. The debt you owe for laughing at me and causing my humiliation.”
“No…. Please don’t!” Marilyn screamed and held on tightly to her trembling mother.
“Who should I start with?” Narcissa smiled cruelly, her eyes settling on Oswald. ” You’re the family patriarch, so I’ll begin with you.”
She flicked her finger, and a bolt of violet lightning shot out, striking him in the chest
“Dad!”
“Grandpa!”
The Weston family cried out in anguish.
“Kill them. Leave no one alive,” Narcissa said coldly, issuing the death sentence. Ragnar charged into the crowd first, his curved blade reaping lives like Death’s own scythe. Each swing brought a spray of blood and piercing screams.
The other two guards showed no mercy either. Sword aura cut through the air while deadly strikes found their marks.
Oswald tried to resist, but Narcissa hit him with a violet lightning palm strike to his forehead. He went down instantly, eyes frozen in shock and dead before he even knew it. Marilyn and her mother clung to each other before a blade strike cut them both down.
Rachel, who had lost her hands and was lying in bed, heard the screams outside and struggled in terror. A guard burst into her room and crushed her chest with a single stomp.
Housekeepers, maids, children, and elders cried out for mercy, regardless of age or gender. Their pleas and screams merged into a single, horrifying chorus as death claimed them. Blood coated the courtyards, hallways, and rooms. The metallic stench hung thick in the air.
Narcissa stood in the center of the courtyard, watching the massacre indifferently. There was even a hint of satisfaction in her eyes.
She deliberately hadn’t ordered a quick execution, instead letting her guards take their time so she could savor the fear and suffering of the Weston family in their final moments.
About 15 minutes later, there wasn’t a single living soul left in the Weston estate aside from her and her three guards. Corpses littered the grounds, and the scene was too horrific to describe.
