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138 HxH: Tombbound Power
🕑 Added 2024-10-19 09:33:01 +0000 UTCThe moon rested among the branches, and the sky darkened steadily. Ronnel sat cross-legged, meditating. His chanting had settled into a rhythm, grounding him as he rested—until a faint commotion near the door stirred his attention.
Punk was supposed to be back by now.
But from the sound of things... it didn't seem like he was in a good mood.
Sure enough, when Ronnel saw him the next day, Punk's expression was as dark as storm clouds. He seemed ready to snap at anyone who crossed his path.
Did Princess Anna find someone she likes?
No, that couldn't be it—if something like that had happened, Punk, the loudmouth, would have made a spectacle of it by now.
Curious, Ronnel asked one of the bodyguards who had attended the banquet and was surprised by what he heard.
Aside from various young talents of the Mimbo Republic, there had been another guest—a newcomer is a son of high standing from the V5 connected to the Dark Continent.
It turned out the entire banquet had been arranged to welcome him. And by the end of the night, the young man had stolen the spotlight from everyone else.
It made sense. His father handled matters involving the Dark Continent and wielded enormous authority. Not even the prominent figures of Mimbo Republic dared offend someone with such connections.
Of course, some families could afford to be more reckless—like Punk's. His family wielded real power, but Punk was just a rookie in the grand scheme of things.
And that's why, no matter how furious he was, Punk ended up humiliated by that newcomer—Kaelen. No one else at the banquet had been a match for him, either, leaving Punk stewing in frustration. Even Princess Anna, the host of the event, had remained conspicuously silent.
Ronnel smirked at the thought. It was clear what kind of game was being played at that banquet. But none of it concerned him. He preferred to avoid unnecessary trouble. The longer you keep your nose out of other people's business, the longer you live.
At least, that had been his plan. Trouble, however, had a way of finding him.
A few days later, another letter from Princess Anna arrived. This time, it was an invitation to a farewell banquet—a send-off for Kaelen. The event was set for the following night, and the letter emphasized that Ronnel's presence was mandatory.
It wasn't just him, either—several other young talents who had missed the first banquet for various reasons were also personally summoned.
As if that weren't enough, Renji Creston later cornered Ronnel, looking grim.
"Do the Mimbo Republic proud," the Renji grumbled, patting Ronnel on the shoulder with a sigh.
Ronnel could only smile helplessly. Looks like I'm stuck.
Punk was out of his depth, and now the pressure was on Ronnel to salvage the situation. Renji Creston clearly had little faith in Punk, pinning his hopes on Ronnel simply because he was literate.
"Let's just leave it to fate," Ronnel muttered, holding his book with a bemused expression as the general left with another long sigh.
Still, the banquet could be useful. It was the perfect chance to meet Kaelen in person.
The night of the banquet came quickly. Under Punk's resentful gaze, Ronnel slipped into a black tuxedo and headed toward Baiya Palace.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the bustling streets of the Capital of Mimbo Republic, three uninvited guests arrived.
They walked with steady steps, oblivious to the bustling traffic and noisy streets around them. The trio's expressions were cold, their presence radiating a quiet menace that kept others at a distance.
"Shalnark, is it really here?" Feitan asked, his skull-print cloak draped over him, hiding all but his intense gaze.
As he spoke, a fast-moving carriage rumbled toward them, its driver yelling arrogantly.
"Out of the way if you don't want to die!" the man shouted.
Recognizing the noble family's insignia on the carriage, pedestrians quickly cleared the road. But Feitan and the others made no effort to move.
Seeing this, the coachman sneered and drove straight toward them.
"Yeah, the book's supposed to be with a family called Creston," Shalnark said casually, as if the carriage speeding toward them didn't exist.
"Good," Feitan muttered, his hand slipping out of his cloak. His four fingers were pressed together, with his thumb tucked against his palm.
Swish!
The coachman's triumphant smirk froze on his face as the world tilted violently. In the next instant, everything went dark.
His last thought was confusion—Whose headless body is that?
Then, nothing.
The horse whinnied in terror, bucking wildly without its driver. People screamed as they fled, panic spreading like wildfire through the streets. Yet, by the time anyone realized what had happened, Feitan and the others were gone, their presence reduced to a faint memory amidst the chaos.
"You could've just told me you wanted the book," Shalnark offered with a shrug. "I would've fetched it for you."
Feitan shot him a glare. "I have to take it myself. It's the only way I'll feel satisfied."
"Tch, it's just a book. You're way too serious," Phinks muttered, rolling his eyes.
Feitan smirked beneath his cloak. "Say that again, and I'll toss your Egyptian pharaoh costume into a ditch."
Phinks shrugged, unfazed. "Go ahead. I'll just buy another one. Now, where's Creston's place again?"
"In the northeast corner of the city," Shalnark replied. "Not too far, but I heard the family heir is attending a banquet at one of the central palaces nearby."
Feitan's grin widened beneath his cloak. "Perfect."
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