Chaos' Heir

Francis was in no mood to speak, but Khan's story attracted his attention, diverting his empty gaze from the wall and adding surprise to it. Francis' mouth even hung open in shock at some point, and he never bothered to close it.

"This," Khan revealed, taking out his turtleneck and showing his right shoulder. "This isn't a normal tattoo. A Niqols made it through dangerous arts that risked taking off my shoulder."

"D-does," Francis finally spoke and cleared his throat to continue. "Does it have a meaning?"

-n0ve1、com "Eternal love," Khan explained, his gaze losing focus when he peeked at the tattoo. "At least in the human language."

Francis found it hard to hide his emotions. Everyone knew Khan's story, but few were aware of its many details. Khan had omitted a lot from his tale but had included the lake's events, which left Francis stunned and captivated.

"Mana itself had blessed our union," Khan said in a tone that reeked of sadness, "But I had to let her go anyway. Our love wasn't enough."

Francis was speechless. Khan had done all kinds of despicable deeds only to lose everything anyway. In comparison, his life had been a fairy tale stained by a couple of disappointments.

"You know the rest of the story," Khan stated, wearing his turtleneck and leaning on the open entrance. "I felt dirty whenever I touched Delia. I lied to myself when I was with Cora. I wanted nothing to do with Monica either, but the Niqols' ways are stronger than me."

Khan couldn't help but smile as his many memories with Monica resurfaced. Sometimes, he still struggled to believe how far he had come. He had been so lost after Nitis that his current happiness felt nothing short of a dream.

However, that unexpected development was the reason for Khan's firm stance. He would seal any deal and commit all kinds of crimes to protect what had taken him years to find.

"I lost everything once already," Khan continued, making the temperature in the room and corridor fall. "If I have to fill the Harbor with corpses to prevent that from happening again, I will."

Francis could only lower his head. He saw Khan in a new light, but his situation and mental state didn't change. He was a simple puppet with a broken heart caught in problems far bigger than him.

"You tried to take Monica away," Khan declared, stepping into the room to arrive before Francis. "Every fiber of my body is demanding your head."

Khan let his right leg slide backward and bent the other to crouch. He lowered himself enough to look into Francis' eyes, but the latter remained hidden behind his golden hair.

"But," Khan sighed, and the atmosphere relaxed enough to make Francis lift his gaze. "I need you for that meeting, and killing you probably isn't the best idea."

Khan hated to admit it, but Mark was right. Publicly killing a descendant would leave a permanent stain on his profile. Even if he could somehow avoid imprisonment and similar criminal charges, his career and overall future would be doomed.

The tale had turned part of Francis' feelings toward Khan into proper respect, and seeing him asking for his help so bluntly was a powerful scene. However, it wasn't enough to affect his mental state.

"I told you," Francis whispered, lowering his head again. "I'm just a puppet. I don't hold any power."

"I know," Khan nodded. "Because you are useless, just like I was on Nitis."

Francis didn't react to the insult, but the last part of Khan's line made him lift his head again. He seemed to understand something, but Khan stood up before they could have a friendly moment.

"If you really want something," Khan stated, limping toward the exit, "Do anything in your power to achieve it, be it planting flowers or creating bloody rivers."

Khan let those words linger in the room for a few seconds before continuing. "If you feel that your life is over, just die without causing problems for others. The choice is yours."

Francis watched Khan limping outside the room and disappearing past the entrance while motivation invaded his mind. Khan had experienced a terrible life but had still come out on top. Francis was nowhere near his level, but his problems were also shallower. If Khan had succeeded, maybe there was still hope for him.

Yet, before Francis could immerse himself in those new thoughts, a hand grabbed the entrance's edge and clawed deeper into the room. A purple-red halo also encircled it, eventually digging cracks in the metal wall.

Khan peeked past the entrance. The purple-red glow illuminated his dark face, and his eyes reflected it to create a chilling scene.

"Of course," Khan warned, "I was talking about being a man. If you as much as breathe Monica's air, there won't be families or politics capable of stopping me."

The cracks expanded, stretching deeper into the room, but Francis couldn't move his eyes from Khan. His whole being had frozen before that threat.

"Are we clear?" Khan asked.

"Y-yes!" Francis instinctively muttered.

"Say it," Khan ordered.

"I-," Francis gulped. "I won't create problems for Monica anymore."

Khan glared at Francis for a few more seconds before retracting his head and dispersing his mana. His hand also disappeared behind the entrance, and the door closed to seal the room.

A few metal shards fell from the wall and released clinging noises when they hit the floor. Meanwhile, Francis remained stunned. Even a man who had given up on life would experience fear in that situation.

Khan slowly limped outside the corridor and sealed it again. His mood didn't change even after crossing the main hall. The talk might lead nowhere, but he had to try. Yet, he had truly exhausted his sources now, and waiting was his only option.

Entering the appointed bedroom made Khan forget about his problems. A single glance at the tempting figure on the bed's corner was enough to remove all his exhaustion, worries, and thoughts.

Monica was sitting on the mattress with her legs folded to her side. Her short skirt barely covered her captivating thighs, enveloped in dark fishnet stockings. Her transparent bra carried the same pattern, and she showed it proudly by keeping her arms behind her back.

"This is the time when I tell you to look only at me," Monica used her sensual tone, stretching her legs to leave the bed, "Or do my best to earn that."

Monica approached Khan slowly, pulling her hair behind her shoulders to show her black choker. The necklace was nothing more than a strand of cloth, but Khan found it incredibly sexy on Monica's neck.

"Maybe I should give you a chance," Khan wondered, reaching for Monica's neck to slip a finger under her choker. "How would you earn that?"

"You just have to ask," Monica whispered, "And I'll comply."

Monica had a hard time controlling her breath. She was on the verge of panting, and Khan pushed her over the edge by pulling the choker. The gesture made her gasp and almost trip on him, but she steeled her balance to keep looking into his eyes.

"I wish I could wear this in the open," Monica revealed, reaching for the choker and sliding her fingers over it until she touched Khan's hand. "I love how you look at me when I do."

"I'm sure you'll love the ring even more," Khan stated, sliding his hand over Monica's neck to pull her from her nape and trap her in a kiss.

"Heal faster," Monica whined when their lips separated. "I miss jumping on you."

Khan promptly grabbed the sides of Monica's torso and lifted her. She let out a cry that transformed into a giggle when she crossed her legs around Khan's waist. The two kissed again, and Khan slowly limped toward the bed. The braced foot slightly hurt, but he couldn't feel that pain.

The worries, arousal, and other emotions accumulated during the day transformed into fuel for the couple's mad passion. Clothes flew left and right, and cries filled the flat. Khan and Monica had forgotten to lock the bedroom again, but the sealed corridor saved Andrew and Francis from their shouts.

The outside world stopped existing that night. Khan had eyes only for Monica, and the same went for her. Neither heard their ringing phones, and they disregarded them when they did. A lot could happen in the following days, so they didn't dare to waste any second together.

Nevertheless, when morning began approaching, Khan and Monica noticed that their phones had yet to go silent. The two initially tried to ignore them to delve into affectionate and soporific cuddles, but the incessant ringing eventually forced them to move.

"Who can it even be?" Monica complained, rubbing her face on the only surviving pillow. "Don't they know that the night is for sleep and sex?"

"It's your mother," Khan revealed when he found Monica's phone in the corner of the bedroom.

"Fuck her," Monica cursed. "She didn't bother to warn me about Francis, so I'll claim my cuddles first."

"I'm sorry, Madam Solodrey," Khan said, ignoring the call and leaving the phone on the floor. "Your daughter has priority when she is naked."

"I still have my tights," Monica giggled. "I don't know how you took out my underwear with these in the way."

"I ripped it off," Khan casually explained as his search resumed. "You were too busy clinging to my hair to notice."

"That explains the holes," Monica replied, peeking at her torn tights. "By the way, your hair got longer again. Should I accompany you to a saloon?"

"I'll call someone here," Khan reassured, "Or have the Headmistress put someone in my cab the next time I attend Professor Parver's lesson."

Khan's eyes lit up when he found his trousers and promptly went for their left pocket. His phone ended in his hands, but seeing the multitude of messages and missed calls made him frown.

'What happened?' Khan wondered, abandoning his relaxed mood to study the matter.

Khan only had to skim through a few messages to end on the network. A series of curious headlines had taken control of many articles, and a few mentioned his name in the titles.

"What is it?" Monica asked, understanding that something was off. She even left the pillow to crawl toward the edge closer to Khan, and he sat on it to show her the screen.

The phone was playing a video featuring two people that Monica didn't recognize, but labels hovered above them to state their identity. One of them was Rick Rassec, while the other was Lucille Edhold.

It was rare for nobles to hold such public interviews, but exceptions existed, so Monica didn't feel too surprised. However, the video's title talked about an official engagement, which was obviously a big deal at those levels.

Still, the most surprising detail had yet to arrive. Rick and Lucille were merely answering simple and scripted questions, but the former eventually took the initiative to declare something.

"The wedding will be next year," Rick declared, "And I wish Captain Khan to be my best man."

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!