Chapter 704 --704

Chapter 704: Chapter-704

"Long live the Emperor," Heena replied, offering a flawless, shallow bow of her head. She sheathed her short sword with a sharp, metallic clack.

"Leave this place, Lady Seera," the Emperor commanded, turning his back to her and walking slowly toward the empty, blood-splattered golden thrones. "Go home. I will handle the ashes."

Heena did not need to be told twice.

She turned and walked down the marble steps of the dais, her crimson skirt sweeping over the bodies of the dead. The heavy cedar doors of the pavilion were unbarred by the surviving Vanguard elites, pulling open to reveal the cool, sharp night air of the capital.

As Heena crossed the threshold and stepped out into the dark courtyard, the cool wind hit her flushed face.

She walked down the grand marble staircase, her Vanguard guards falling into a perfect, protective diamond formation around her. She maintained her flawless, terrifying posture all the way to the heavy ebony carriage waiting at the gates. She stepped inside, and the heavy velvet curtains fell shut.

The moment she was hidden from the world, Heena closed her eyes and let out a long, shuddering breath.

The Class-S Vitality Booster was still raging through her veins. She felt no pain, no nausea, no memory loss. She felt absolutely invincible. But as she sat in the dark of the moving carriage, she could feel a strange, terrifying hollowness at the very core of her chest—a sensation like a burning candle that had just consumed the last drop of its wax and was now feeding entirely on the wick.

"Host," the System’s voice materialized in the quiet carriage, its digital tone entirely devoid of its usual panic, replaced by a profound, heavy sadness. "The imperial plot divergence is at one hundred percent. The Empress is dethroned. The aristocratic faction is dead. You... you cleared the board."

"How much time do I have left on the booster?" Heena asked, leaning her head back against the silk cushions.

"Two hours and forty minutes," the System whispered. "Once it expires, the borrowed vitality will vanish. The physical toll of the drug, combined with the blood clot..."

The System didn’t finish the sentence. It didn’t need to. They both knew exactly what would happen when the timer hit zero. Her body would violently, catastrophically shut down.

"Two hours," Heena murmured, looking out the small carriage window at the darkened streets of the capital passing by. "That’s enough time to get home. Enough time to sit in the courtyard."

She closed her eyes, trying to picture the Vanguard estate. She could remember the layout perfectly now. The drug had restored her cognitive function. She could remember her grandparents’ faces. She could remember the Assistant Prime Minister’s name.

And, with a sharp, breathtaking ache in her chest, she could finally remember Samuel’s face again.

She remembered the exact, perfect curve of his jaw. The way his dark hair fell across his forehead when he was reading military ledgers. The agonizing, beautiful depth of his eyes when he held her hand and begged her not to die.

I’m sorry, Samuel, Heena thought, the invincible warlord finally feeling the crushing weight of her own mortality. I’m going to leave you behind after all.

Miles away, the torrential storm had finally broken, leaving the dirt roads slick and treacherous.

But Samuel did not slow down.

His black warhorse burst through the southern gates of the capital like a thunderbolt, its hooves striking sparks against the cobblestones. Behind him, the heavily guarded carriage carrying the terrified divine physician rattled violently as they took the corners at breakneck speed.

Samuel’s face was pale as death, his pristine scholar robes ruined by mud, blood, and rain. His eyes were wide, burning with a feral, terrifying obsession that had kept him awake for five straight days. He could feel it in his bones. The terrifying, invisible tether that connected his soul to hers was pulling taut, warning him that time was running out.

Wait for me, Samuel’s mind screamed as he lashed the reins, driving the exhausted horse toward the Vanguard estate. Do not close your eyes. Wait for me!

.

.

.

The carriage had barely rolled past the inner gates when the System’s digital voice chimed frantically in the quiet space.

"Host, where are we going now?" the golden lion asked, pacing back and forth on the velvet cushion. "Oh my god, our main mission is still so not complete! You only have two hours left on the booster! It looks like we’re actually going to lose our completion bonus!"

Heena rested her chin on her hand, looking mildly amused. "And why is that?"

"Did you forget?!" the System shrieked, its blue lights flashing in distress. "We still need to complete the main objective! That transporter! The anomaly! You know! Yeah, I know you’ve been forgetting things lately because of the blood clot, so maybe it completely slipped your mind, but we can’t just leave without securing the target!"

Heena paused, the cold, bloodthirsty smile returning to her lips. "The transporter, huh?" She tapped her fingers against the window sill. "Well, I think we should go and meet them right now."

The System froze, its digital fur puffing up. "Right now? You found them?! But wait... didn’t you just meet them earlier? Who is it?!"

"Yeah, I found them," Heena sighed, feeling the relentless energy of the Class-S drug pushing her forward. She knocked sharply on the wooden partition of the carriage. "Stop. Turn around. Take us to the Imperial Dungeon."

"Host, who are they?!" the System begged as the carriage violently changed direction. "Can you calm down? Give me a hint!"

"We will see when we meet," Heena replied smoothly.

Five minutes later, the carriage halted outside the towering, iron-reinforced gates of the Imperial Palace’s underground prison. The air here was damp, heavy, and smelled distinctly of rust and rotting stone.

As Heena stepped out and approached the entrance, the imperial prison guards immediately crossed their halberds, blocking her path. But Heena simply reached into her robes and produced the heavy, solid-bronze Vanguard General token. The guards instantly paled, dropping to their knees to let her pass.

The security inside the subterranean jail was suffocating. At the third checkpoint, the warden nervously but firmly requested she disarm. Heena didn’t argue. She lifted the slit of her crimson skirt, unbuckled the leather sheath from her thigh, and dropped her blood-stained short sword onto the guard’s table.

She walked down the long, torch-lit stone corridor, her silk slippers making no sound against the damp floor. Finally, she stopped in front of Cell Number 8.

It was a maximum-security chamber enclosed by heavy iron bars. She stepped up to the metal, knocked lightly on the iron, and spoke into the shadows.

"So, how are you, Miss Reborn?"

Inside the cell, a figure violently flinched.

The System squinted into the pitch-black space, unable to see through the gloom. But as a prison guard scurried over to hang a burning oil lamp on the wall outside the cell, the golden light spilled through the bars, illuminating the prisoner.

The System’s jaw dropped.

Sitting on a bed of filthy straw, stripped of her magnificent imperial yellow robes and now wearing rough, coarse prison rags, was the Empress. Her shoulder was heavily bandaged from where Heena had slashed her, and her broken jaw was crudely wrapped in linen.