James searched desperately, his eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. Finally, he reached the mansion controlled by Duke Suen’s men. He had never lost his composure before, but seeing his wife and daughter lying unconscious before him made his heart seize — for a single, fleeting second. Then he forced himself to breathe, regaining his usual icy calm.

  Only a few men remained in the room, tense and wary. At the far end, a figure stepped forward — the one clearly in command. Duke Suen.

  “James,” Suen said calmly, “I never intended for this to escalate so far. My men were only ordered to capture your family. They couldn’t do it quietly, so they knocked them out.”

  James’s eyes burned with fury. His glare alone was enough to chill the blood of even the most seasoned warrior. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and cutting.

  “Duke, you shouldn’t try to console me. Think about your own safety instead.”

  Suen’s expression remained unreadable. “You shouldn’t speak to me so lightly, James. Your family is at stake.”

  For a moment, Suen calculated every possibility. He was meticulous, precise — but his only misstep had been threatening James’s family, the one thing he valued above all else.

  In an instant, James teleported behind the men, striking them down with deadly precision. The remaining knights crumpled silently, and he turned to Suen, eyes cold and unyielding.

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  For the first time in his life, the Duke felt the icy hand of fear. James raised his hand to strike, but a small, trembling voice stopped him.

  “Daddy!” little Anna cried out, her eyes wide with fear.

  Floretta watched, stunned. She knew the extent of James’s skills, his duties, his dangerous world. But the man before her now was not an assassin, nor the Empire’s shadow guardian. He was her husband. Anna’s father.

  James hesitated. He did not use his magic. Even the 8th Circle Archmage present froze in shock, forgetting every spell he had mastered.

  Then James ran to them, gathering his wife and daughter into his arms for the first time. Tears streamed down his face — not uncontrolled sobs, but quiet, natural tears. The room seemed to hold its breath.

  Duke Suen could not look away. Moments ago, this man had struck down all knights with effortless lethality. Now, he embraced his family like any ordinary man — yet the aura of a god of death still clung to him.

  Suen knew apologies would not save him. He began calculating, carefully, every option remaining.

  “James,” he said, his voice steady but wary, “do you want your daughter to see blood? You know that if you kill me, the Empire will spiral into chaos.”

  James turned, carrying Floretta and Anna, his movements calm, measured. Then, using transmission magic, he spoke to the Duke.

  “Suen. I will not let you live. You will die. I am only granting you a few days — the last mercy I can offer for not harming my family.”

  This was no act of kindness. Every step, every word, was calculated. James had a plan, and the events of that night were only the beginning.

  The next day, after leaving the mansion behind, James set out toward the royal palace, his mind already working through the consequences and strategies that lay ahead.