The Sinful Young Master - Chapter 320

Capítulo 320: Arrival of the Monster

Her cry echoed across the square, carrying all the anguish of a woman watching her world burn. The name seemed to hang in the air like a prayer, a final appeal to the one person who might have the power to stop this madness.

A plea for the one she truly believed in.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Even the dying seemed to hold their breath, waiting for some sign that her desperate plea had been heard.

Then the sky exploded.

A beast’s roar shook the very foundations of the city as she dove from the clouds like a bronze thunderbolt. Her wings cast shadows across the square as she pulled up from her dive, landing with earth-shaking force directly in the center of the fountain.

Water sprayed in all directions as her talons crushed the stone, and her massive presence suddenly dominated the scene.

Eude and his men were swept away from the impact. The people around the fountain were pushed back, even Cleora and her children too.

Smoke and dust filled the air, obscuring the once peaceful square.

From that smoke, a figure slid from the back of the drake, his feet touching the blood-soaked stones with deadly grace.

He walked out of the smoke as the smoke slowly disappeared, revealing Maelruth’s gigantic form and then revealing a figure who was walking out; it was Jolthar.

“Jolthar!” Nora and Roblan said at once.

For a moment, the square was frozen in tableau—the tortured citizens, the shocked mercenaries, the defiant baroness, and the merchant lord who had orchestrated it all.

Jolthar’s gaze swept over the scene, taking in the brutalized woman, the bodies of the elderly, and the terror in the eyes of the innocent.

He looked towards Cleora and saw how she was chained. His eyes shot blood red, and silver lightning cracked around him like a storm brewing in the distance, his anger palpable and dangerous.

He raised his hand and made a slash in the air, and the next moment, the chains binding Cleora, Nora, and Roblan broke. His telekinesis had improved again; he was able to control it with just his mind now.

From somewhere in the crowd, a small voice called out through the evening air.

A little girl with golden hair braided with blue ribbons broke free from her mother’s arms and ran forward. Her small feet pattered against the cold stones as she pushed past the legs of adults who stood frozen in terror.

“Big brother!” she cried, her voice carrying across the square like a bell ringing in the distance. Jolthar suddenly turned to the voice, his long silver-white hair flowing behind him like a river. His velvet coat shone under the evening light.

Around him, the very air seemed to crackle and hum with a silver lightning, the roar of Voidwrath in him that made the hair on people’s arms stand up.

Jolthar’s face changed when he saw the little girl running toward him. The hard lines around his eyes softened, and he crouched down low, spreading his arms wide to catch her. His voice was gentle, like a summer breeze through wheat fields.

“Hey Mira,” he said, and his words carried all the warmth that had been missing from the cold square.

Mira threw herself into his arms with the trust that only children have.

She had been crying for hours, and her cheeks were red and puffy from tears. Her small dress was torn at the hem from where she had been hiding behind her mother’s skirts.

Now she pressed her face against Jolthar’s shoulder and spoke in a voice that shook with relief.

“Big brother, you came. I prayed for you to come. I prayed so hard that Mama said the gods would surely hear me.” Her words came out in a rush, as if she had been holding them inside her heart all day.

For a moment, Jolthar held her close.

He could feel how her small body trembled, and he could smell the fear that clung to her hair like smoke. His jaw tightened, and something dark and dangerous began to build in his chest like storm clouds gathering on the horizon.

Slowly, he stood up, lifting Mira with him.

The change in him was like watching the sun disappear behind a mountain.

The gentleness left his face, replaced by something that made even brave men want to look away.

His green eyes began to glow with an inner light that was not quite natural, and around his hands, tiny sparks of silver lightning began to dance like living things.

Across the square, a man lay sprawled on the ground near the great fountain.

Lord Eude had been strutting around like a peacock just moments before, giving orders and making threats.

Now he looked like a mouse that had seen a cat’s shadow fall across its path. His fine clothes were wrinkled and stained, and his face had gone white as fresh snow. His eyes were wide with terror as he stared at Jolthar and the great drake behind him.

“Go back to your mother now, little one,” Jolthar said to Mira, his voice still gentle but carrying an edge like a sword wrapped in silk.

He set her down carefully and gave her a small push toward the crowd.

Mira nodded and ran back to where her mother waited with tears streaming down her face.

Nora reached out and pulled the child close. Both women looked at Jolthar with wonder and hope in their eyes.

Roblan was beaming, thinking that all their troubles are over. He helped his mother stand up and supported her to stand. She seemed to have hurt her leg.

All around the square, the people of Tokkora began to whisper among themselves. They had thought they were doomed, that this would be their last day on earth.

But now their faces began to change.

Shoulders that had been bent with despair straightened up. Eyes that had been dull with hopelessness began to shine again. Some of the younger men even began to smile, and a few women started to weep tears of joy instead of sorrow.

The new ones looked at Jolthar with confused eyes, but the old people of Tekkora knew that they were saved.