CHAPTER 309: THE MISERABLE END OF BELFOR

"Hahaha! They’re so stupid! They must be really shocked to find me gone from my cell."

Inside the luxurious horse-drawn carriage, Belfor couldn’t hold back his triumphant laughter.

Last night, he had ordered the coachman employed by Nolan to take him to one of his hidden bases. From there, he immediately commanded his subordinates to take him as far away as possible.

It had been twelve hours since he left the capital, and they were now approaching the southern region before continuing on to the Holy Empire of Valtanir.

He had chosen that empire because it was hostile toward the Great Empire of Velmora. Moreover, it was the home of the Singularity of Light.

Even if his trail was discovered in the Holy Empire of Valtanir, Ragan wouldn’t dare act recklessly. That gave Belfor the chance to relax and not rush to flee again.

"Hah..." Belfor sighed softly as he leaned back in the soft chair.

His right hand held a glass of wine, which he sipped like a drink of victory.

His gaze was fixed on the window to his right, where sunlight bathed a stretch of forest. The scenery was breathtaking, as if mirroring the freedom he was about to seize.

"But..." His brows furrowed. "I’m still worried about the Red Obsidian Trading House. I hope Melinda can handle it. If not..."

His expression darkened. Honestly, he had never expected things to turn out like this. His original plan was simple—to bring all the nobles of the eastern region to his side and support Zarak in the throne succession.

On paper, the plan had succeeded. If he wasn’t mistaken, eighty percent of the nobles in the eastern region had accepted his investment, including the two Marquis families—Castellan and Grimvel.

But Rovert’s betrayal ruined everything. The chaos spread, ultimately leading to his arrest. What he least expected was an attack from the Blue Moon Trading House.

He had been too careless, treating the eastern region as his main base without realizing the trading house had been watching him from the shadows.

"But it’s fine," he whispered, regaining his confidence. "Everything is still under my control. I’ve already deceived Nolan Lorian. What he holds isn’t full control of the Red Obsidian Trading House—only ten percent. Once Melinda takes the other ninety percent from Claire, the Red Obsidian Trading House will be saved."

Feeling calmer, he closed his eyes and happily savored his wine.

Seconds ticked by, and by now, they should have already reached the southern region. Belfor looked out the window, but all he saw was the same stretch of forest as before.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What’s going on? Why am I still in this forest? Shouldn’t we have arrived in the southern region by now?"

Unlike the eastern border, the boundary between the southern and central regions was marked by a large river called Yanzhi.

The river originated from nearby mountain springs and served as the main water source for the villages and several towns along the southern edge of the region.

A large bridge spanned the river—a clear sign that one had entered the southern region. Yet, his horse-drawn carriage was still deep in the forest, even though they should have already left it behind.

As confusion clouded his mind, a sudden gust of wind swept in from ahead and slammed against the carriage. Belfor, inside, felt it too, his body instinctively tensing in alarm.

"What’s going on?" He shouted to the coachman.

Strangely, there was no response. Belfor’s heartbeat quickened as a bad feeling crept up his chest.

But before he could rise from his seat, something unexpected happened.

The world around him turned gray, as if all colors had vanished in an instant. His body froze, and everything stopped abruptly—including the carriage and the galloping horses.

"What’s happening? Why can’t I move?" Belfor cried out in fear.

The only things he could move were his eyes and his thoughts. Everything else was frozen, as if he were bound by invisible chains.

Just as panic reached its peak, a loud explosion echoed from outside.

In the next moment, the horse-drawn carriage was hurled from its place and shattered into pieces.

Belfor’s body was flung into the air, but the instant after, it stiffened again, suspended midair.

He shifted his gaze and saw his coachman impaled by a jagged piece of wood. The man’s body was mangled, and strangely, the blood that spattered didn’t fall but floated in the air, frozen like everything else.

Belfor’s heartbeat pounded faster with every passing second. He wanted to scream with all his might, but no sound came out.

Whoosh!

A massive black vortex tore open in the sky above him, twenty meters wide. Inside, there was nothing but utter darkness, swallowing every trace of light.

"Belfor Horven..." A majestic voice boomed from every direction. "Did you really think you could escape? Hahaha... how naive."

Belfor’s eyes widened in terror. He didn’t recognize the voice, yet it felt familiar, like a sound he had heard before. Then, a figure flashed through his mind—Nolan Lorian!

Impossible! This is impossible! How could it be him? He’s just an ordinary prince! What is this power? He screamed in his heart.

He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. The voice was undeniably his.

No member of the imperial family possessed such overwhelming power—not even Ragan, the Emperor. So how could Nolan have it?

Had he been hiding it all this time? But... for what purpose?

No matter how hard he tried to figure it out, none of the answers made sense.

"I know you’re surprised, but that’s not important. How does it feel to be trapped like this? Do you think... it’s fun?" The voice echoed again, calm yet piercing.

Belfor burned with anger and despair. He had always believed he was the true winner, and Nolan was nothing more than a puppet he controlled from the shadows.

What he never imagined was that the seemingly weak young man was the real mastermind. From the beginning, Belfor had been nothing more than a pawn dancing in the palm of Nolan’s hand.

Resentment, anger, and sorrow churned inside him. But there was nothing he could do. His body wouldn’t even budge, let alone fight back.

And even if he could, he knew the result would be the same. The prince he had once mocked as foolish turned out to be a terrifying figure lurking in the shadows.

"By the way, I already know everything you’ve done. Your stake in the Red Obsidian Trading House is only ten percent, while the rest belongs to your daughter, Claire Horven, right?"

Belfor’s breath caught in his throat.

How does he know? he thought in a frantic panic. His heart pounded wildly in his chest.

If Nolan had only deceived him, he might have been able to accept it. But now, the man knew everything—and that made his fear spiral out of control.

"Don’t worry, your daughter is already in my hands. She even willingly handed over ninety percent of her ownership of the Red Obsidian Trading House. I really should thank you. Hahaha!"

As the voice faded, a massive claw emerged from the black vortex and grabbed Belfor, dragging him toward the darkness.

No! I don’t want this! I can’t accept this! He roared inwardly.

But it was all in vain. Time seemed frozen, and he couldn’t even move a finger.

In the end, his body vanished, swallowed by the vortex.

A moment later, it disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only the wrecked carriage and the lifeless coachman lying on the ground.