"Father! Father!" Felir burst into Lawren's study in a panic.
"Knock before entering, how many times must I teach you!" Within the study, Lawren was discussing the pressing issue at hand with Lanard - how to smooth over the current crisis and avoid the scrutiny of the Cobalt Strike. The city was abuzz with talk of the strange phenomena that had occurred the previous night, and the more they tried to silence the rumors, the louder they grew. It seemed as if someone was fanning the flames, deliberately spreading tales. They lived in fear every day, dreading an inquiry from the Cobalt Strike.
"Father, Grandfather, the Cobalt Strike have sent someone!" Felir gasped for breath, having run all the way back in haste.
"What? So soon?"
"Where are they now!"
Both Lawren and Lanard shot up from their seats, asking in unison.
"They've already entered the city gates. Father, what do we do?" Felir was both anxious and panicked.
"The Cobalt Strike may just be investigating. We stick to our story that we know nothing."
"Father, it might not work this time. The one who came is... is..."
"Who is it?"
Suddenly, a voice called from outside. "Lanard, Lawren, come out and greet me!"
The color drained from the faces of the two men in the study. That voice... that voice was... was it the Grand Elder?
Felir turned pale, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Grand Elder himself has come!"
Lanard and Lawren could no longer keep their composure. They exchanged a look, then clenched their jaws and hurried to the door, forcing smiles as they greeted their guest, "Grand Elder, to what do we owe the pleasure of your personal visit? A warning would have allowed us to meet you outside the city walls."
"Do you really have the leisure to meet me outside the city?" The Grand Elder was tall and thin, with a noble and subdued elegance, yet his presence was suffocating, making it difficult to meet his gaze.
"Grand Elder, we would never dare show disrespect," Lanard bowed deeply.
Lawren stole glances at the Grand Elder and the two Elders behind him, as well as the Cobalt Strike Protégés, who were steadily approaching in large numbers. Dozens, hundreds, maybe five hundred. What was the Grand Elder planning?
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Three swords were drawn, their energy surged to the sky, and in an instant, they severed Felir. His cries were abruptly silenced.
Lawren and Lanard stood frozen, mouths agape. Was he killed? Just like that?
An eerie silence fell over the courtyard. The guards stood petrified, staring at the scattered remains of their young Lord, while the maids clutched their mouths in horror, trembling at the brutal display of power.
Felir... was dead... His life ended in such an abrupt way!
"Seize all members of the Rocke family!" commanded the two Elders, their voices devoid of any emotion.
Lanard and Lawren snapped out of their shock, and a chill ran down their spines. They suddenly understood the terror the Mallister family must have felt when facing punishment. The Grand Elder was merciless; even though they had once enjoyed a cordial relationship, the moment a mistake was made, he became heartless and cold, treating them as strangers. He did not waste his words. When it was time to kill, he did so with the indifference of slaughtering livestock.
Wails and screams filled the noble and beautiful estate, as the Cobalt Strike troops began to round up all direct and collateral members of the Rocke family, dragging them toward the courtyard.
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