Chapter 46: Execution

Morghanna sat motionless for several seconds after the worms left.

​The tent was silent, yet the words of the mysterious Lord continued echoing in her mind.

​’The Veil does not protect me from the Orcs. It protects the Orcs from me.’

​CRACK!

​The wooden frame of her bed shattered beneath her grip. A dangerous, unbridled gleam flared in her crimson eyes.

​Was he bluffing? Most likely. Yet the absolute confidence behind those words irritated her to her very core, not because she believed them, but because a dark, competitive part of her desperately wanted to find out.

​Suddenly, she stood up. The movement was so violent that the ruined bed behind her toppled over completely.

​Morghanna strode toward the weapon rack and seized a massive battleaxe. The weapon weighed hundreds of kilograms, yet in her hand, it felt weightless.

​Without another word, she stormed out of the tent.

​The elite guards outside immediately straightened, their eyes widening in shock. "Chief?"

​No response came. The suffocating pressure radiating from her body forced them to instinctively step back. No one dared stop her, and no one even dared ask questions. ℯℯ𝑙.

​Morghanna marched through the settlement, and every Orc in her path frantically scrambled to clear a way. The bloodlust surrounding her was so dense that even veteran warlords lowered their heads in terror.

​It wasn’t long before she arrived at the central holding area.

​The Umbral Mothkin remained exactly where she had been left: heavy black metal chains bound her limbs, several restraints pinned her wings, and glowing mana seals were attached to her body to suppress her power.

​Despite everything, the Mothkin sat quietly. Her large violet eyes slowly lifted, landing first on Morghanna, and then shifting to the gigantic axe resting upon the Chief’s shoulder.

​The Mothkin froze.

​The killing intent radiating from the Orc Chief was overwhelming, like standing directly before a raging natural disaster.

​’What happened?’ a thought surfaced in the Mothkin’s mind. She had no answer, nor did she have the luxury of time to find one.

​Morghanna stopped directly before her, and the massive axe slowly rose into the air.

The surrounding Orcs instinctively backed away, feeling the terrifying force gathering behind the swing.

​The Mothkin stared calmly at the descending blade, before closing her eyes. She had already accepted death the moment she was captured.

​’Lord Cassian...’

​SHING!

​A sharp metallic ring echoed through the holding area, followed by absolute silence.

​The Mothkin blinked, slowly opening her eyes.

​She was still alive.

​For a moment, she couldn’t comprehend what had just transpired, until she noticed the ground.

The chains were gone, every restraint had been cleanly severed, and the mana seals lay shattered into useless dust.

​She was free.

​The Mothkin looked up in sheer confusion, only to freeze. The sight before her was far more terrifying than the blade itself.

​Morghanna’s face was completely expressionless, yet the bloodlust pouring from her frame was entirely unrestrained, so thick it distorted the air around her.

​The Orc leader looked down at her, her voice cold enough to freeze blood:

​"Return to your Lord."

​The Mothkin remained deathly quiet.

​Morghanna’s grip tightened around the shaft of her axe. "And tell him this."

​The surrounding air trembled violently.

​"If his words are anything more than empty threats..." A dangerous, bloodthirsty smile slowly curled across her face. "...then he should sharpen his blade."

​Her crimson eyes gleamed with lethal intent.

​"Because the next time we meet... the Kragmar Dominion will not be opening negotiations."

​A heavy pause hung over the silent courtyard.

​"We will be declaring war."

​The Mothkin stared at her in silence.

​Morghanna turned away, the conversation was over. Without another glance, the Chief began walking back toward the center of the settlement, the gathered Orcs instantly parting to make way, none daring to utter a sound.

​Meanwhile, the Mothkin remained frozen for several long moments, still processing the sudden turn of events.

​Eventually, survival instinct took over. Her shadow-infused wings unfolded, and mana surged through her veins once more as a powerful vortex of wind erupted around her frame.

​BOOM!

​She shot into the night sky, transforming into a distant silhouette against the moonlit horizon within seconds, leaving the Kragmar Dominion behind.

....

Cassian rested his back against a weathered tombstone and released a slow breath.

​The negotiation was officially over; now all that remained was waiting for the final result.

​Lord’s Hollow was quiet, broken only by the distant, rhythmic movements of his workers and support summons.

Yet Cassian’s thoughts remained firmly fixed on the Kragmar Dominion, and specifically on its Chief.

​A small smile touched his lips.

​Uncovering Morghanna’s secret had shaped his entire strategy. Cassian was a father, not just any father, but a girl father.

Over the years, he had learned an invaluable truth about human nature: sometimes the fastest way to make someone do what you wanted was convincing them it was their own idea.

​Reverse psychology. Simple in theory, yet notoriously difficult in practice, especially against a leader as razor-sharp as Morghanna.

​That was why he had never made his intent obvious. Had he directly attempted to manipulate her emotions, a tactical genius like her would have immediately smelled a trap.

Instead, he buried his true objective beneath layers of seemingly arrogant, reckless behavior.

​Every word, every threat, and every calculated pause had been chosen with absolute precision.

​The first layer was the threat itself. Any rational Lord whose summon had been captured would try to negotiate, offer compensation, seek a compromise, and avoid provoking a warlord with a hundred thousand soldiers.

​Cassian had done the exact opposite. He threatened her, demanded the Mothkin’s unconditional release, and practically challenged her to an immediate war.

​The second layer was even more crucial. Throughout the entire exchange, he had never once pleaded for the Mothkin’s life, never asked for mercy, and never appealed to Morghanna’s better nature.

He acted like a Lord who cared far more about his own pride and territory than the life of a single subordinate.

​And that subtle, glaring contradiction was precisely what he was counting on.