Chapter 710 --710

Chapter 710: Chapter-710

The desperate illusion of her future regression, the agonizing throb of her shattered jaw, the phantom, hollow emptiness in her chest where her time-bending ’cheat’ used to reside—it all violently collided. The Empress’s fragile reality shattered into a million jagged pieces, and what erupted from the ruins was a catastrophic, volcanic explosion of pure, unadulterated rage.

She scrambled up from the filthy straw, completely ignoring the excruciating pain in her broken wrist and the deep gash on her shoulder. She threw her entire body weight against the heavy iron bars, the thick metal rattling violently under her assault.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" the Empress shrieked.

Blood sprayed from her lips, her voice a tearing, ragged scream that scraped her vocal cords raw. Her face was twisted into a grotesque mask of agony and feral hatred, the veins in her neck bulging against her pale skin.

"You?! You think you are some big shot?!" she roared, her broken jaw making the words a wet, horrifying slur, but the sheer venom behind them was unmistakable. "You look down on me?! I built this! I suffered for lifetimes! I bled, I plotted, I memorized every face, every poison, every political weakness in this wretched empire! I clawed my way out of the dirt to sit on that throne!"

Tears of absolute, agonizing frustration streamed down the Empress’s ruined face, cutting through the grime and dried blood. She was practically frothing at the mouth, her manic eyes completely consumed by madness.

"And you just waltz in here!" the Empress sobbed, violently shaking the unyielding iron bars, her bloodied fingers slipping on the metal. "You—a sickly, arrogant Vanguard brat who already has everything handed to her on a silver platter—and you think you can judge me?!"

The Empress slammed her forehead against the bars, her body convulsing with wretched, hysterical sobs of absolute defeat and burning fury.

"You have the highest military authority! You have untouchable wealth! You have that devoted, brilliant dog Samuel worshipping the ground you walk on!" she screamed, the sheer injustice of it all tearing her soul apart. "You have everything! And you still came to take my life! I will kill you! I don’t care if I have to crawl out of the deepest pits of hell, if I have to tear my own soul apart, I will rip your throat out with my bare teeth!"

She reached her unbroken hand through the bars, her dirt-caked, bloodied fingernails clawing desperately at the empty air, inches away from Heena’s pristine black silk top.

"I curse you!" the Empress wailed, her voice breaking into a haunting, demonic screech that echoed down the damp stone corridors of the dungeon. "I curse you to die in agony! I curse you to lose everything you love!"

Heena stood perfectly still, watching the former Mother of the Empire thrash and scream like a rabid animal trapped in a cage. She didn’t flinch away from the reaching, bloodied hand. She didn’t blink at the curses.

She simply looked at the Empress with the cold, detached absolute apathy of a god watching an insect drown.

Heena looked at the thrashing, hysterical woman, completely unmoved by the violent display of emotion.

"Tch, tch, tch," Heena clicked her tongue, a sound of profound, mocking disappointment.

She closed the distance, stepping right up to the heavy iron bars until she was standing literally an inch away from the Empress’s bloodied face.

"Oh my god," Heena sighed, tilting her head. "Are you deaf, or just an utter idiot?"

The Empress’s manic screams hitched in her throat, her chest heaving as she glared through the metal.

"Didn’t I just tell you?" Heena said, her voice dropping into a cold, echoing void. "I am not Seera. You are obsessing over the original Seera, complaining that she had the top position, the wealth, the family. And so what? Did you not have a brain? Do you not have two legs and two hands? Does she have five legs while you only have one? No."

Heena rolled her dark eyes, genuine boredom bleeding into her tone. "What is wrong with human nature? Just because you weren’t handed the absolute pinnacle of power on a silver platter, you act as if the heavens have wronged you. You parasites are just never satisfied with anything you have."

The Empress bared her blood-stained teeth, ready to spit another venomous curse, but Heena held up a single finger, silencing her.

"Don’t try to act pitiful in front of me," Heena warned, the coldness in her eyes freezing the words in the Empress’s throat. Heena let out a long, exhausted breath, suddenly looking deeply annoyed. "You know what? I’m tired. I have a headache, and you are fucking irritating. I’m just going to finish this so I can go home."

The Empress paused. The feral rage in her eyes flickered, instantly replaced by a sharp, creeping terror. But she forced herself to stand tall, relying on decades of imperial conditioning to project a hollow bravery.

"This is the Imperial Dungeon," the Empress sneered, though her voice trembled violently. "Do you truly think you can kill me here? Right under the Emperor’s nose?"

Heena let out a dry, incredulous scoff. "I am literally standing right in front of you, having already slaughtered your entire court, and you are seriously asking me if I dare to kill you?"

The Empress shrank back slightly, her eyes darting toward the corridor where the heavily armed prison guards stood out of earshot. "You can’t kill me! The decree hasn’t been officially written! My coronation has not been formally demolished yet! I am still the Empress of the Great Dynasty!"

"Yeah," Heena agreed smoothly, a terrifying, dead-eyed smile stretching across her face. "And I am here to kill the Empress. So watch."

"The Emperor will never let you walk out of here if you murder me in a cell!" the Empress panicked, taking another step back. "Do you think you can fight your way past a hundred dungeon guards?!"

Heena didn’t answer with words.

Instead, her pale hands moved up to her collarbone. Resting against the black silk of her top was a large, breathtakingly intricate silver necklace shaped like a butterfly. She hadn’t worn it at the banquet; it was a concealed Vanguard mechanism she had slipped on inside the dark carriage on the way to the prison.

With a smooth, practiced motion, Heena unclasped the heavy silver butterfly.

The Empress watched in absolute confusion as Heena held the metal ornament in her hands. Heena’s thumbs pressed against the delicate silver wings, folding them inward once, twice, three times. With a sharp, mechanical click, the joints connected and locked. The beautiful, harmless butterfly instantly transformed into a lethal, square-shaped throwing blade, its edges honed to a microscopic, razor-sharp finish.

Before the Empress could even register the weapon, Heena moved.

It was a single, blindingly fast swipe. Heena didn’t even need to step into the cell. She simply reached her arm through the wide gap in the iron bars, the silver blade flashing in the dim lamplight.

Squelch.

The Empress didn’t even have the time to scream.

Her eyes widened to the size of saucers, absolute, unadulterated shock freezing her features. She stumbled backward, dropping to her knees on the filthy straw. Both of her hands flew up to her neck, desperately clutching at the deep, perfectly horizontal slash opened across her throat, but the dark crimson blood poured uncontrollably through her fingers.