Chapter 386: The Last Hope
The Last Hope
Everything had happened too quickly.
He had been focused only on surviving.
He hadn’t even noticed when it slipped away.
His pupils contracted violently.
Julian...
That bastard had picked it up.
The realization struck him like a hammer.
His shoulders sank.
His entire body seemed to lose its strength.
Without the Mystic Life Fruit...
How was he supposed to force his way into the Platinum Realm?
How could he possibly take revenge?
His greatest opportunity...
His only shortcut...
Had become Julian’s gain.
Steffan slowly lowered his head.
A bitter smile appeared on his pale face.
It looked more miserable than laughter.
Then another thought surfaced.
Black Ghost.
White Ghost.
His two trusted subordinates.
They had also fallen into Julian’s hands.
Whether they were dead or alive...
He didn’t know.
But judging from Julian’s methods...
The answer was already obvious.
Everything had collapsed in a single night.
He had lost his dignity.
Lost his future.
Lost the priceless Mystic Life Fruit.
Lost his trusted companions.
Lost nearly everything.
His breathing became ragged.
His gaze turned empty.
For the first time since escaping...
A trace of despair appeared in the eyes of the once-proud Martial Art King of the Farlands.
"Could it be that heaven wants me dead..."
Steffan laughed bitterly.
The sound carried no joy.
Only exhaustion.
Only bitterness.
He looked no different from a stray dog abandoned by the world.
Who would have imagined...
The mighty Martial Art King of the Farlands, feared by countless enemies and respected across the Obsidian Wing, would be driven into hiding inside a shabby rental apartment after crawling out of a garbage dump?
If anyone had told him this would happen a few days ago...
He would have laughed in disbelief.
Yet reality had proven far crueler than any nightmare.
He slowly closed his eyes.
His thoughts became calmer.
No...
Self-pity wouldn’t help him.
Julian was still alive.
As long as Julian lived...
Nothing was over.
He carefully replayed every second of their battle inside his mind.
Every movement.
Every exchange.
Every strike.
Gradually...
A faint light returned to his eyes.
Something wasn’t right.
Julian had used some unknown method.
A bizarre technique capable of interfering with Steffan’s control over his own body.
It had disrupted his movements at the most critical moments.
Without that mysterious ability...
The outcome of the battle might have been completely different.
More importantly...
Julian’s actual cultivation didn’t seem nearly as overwhelming as Steffan had first assumed.
If Julian had truly possessed the strength of a peak Gold Realm expert...
Or even a mid-Gold Realm expert...
Then those few minutes would have been more than enough to kill him outright.
There would have been no reason to prolong the battle.
Instead...
Julian hadn’t done so.
Thinking back carefully, Steffan remembered every clash of their weapons.
Every impact.
Every exchange of force.
The power behind Julian’s blade...
Wasn’t overwhelming.
It was strong.
But not impossibly strong.
After several minutes of silent analysis, Steffan slowly opened his eyes.
The despair inside them gradually disappeared.
In its place...
A sharp, calculating gaze emerged once again.
"No..."
"He isn’t invincible."
"He simply has too many strange tricks."
His breathing steadied.
His confidence, though badly shaken, slowly began returning.
If Julian’s cultivation truly wasn’t that high...
Then overwhelming him with superior force remained possible.
He couldn’t do it alone.
But the Obsidian Wing could.
Steffan reached for the phone lying on the bedside table.
His fingers hesitated briefly before dialing a familiar number.
This time...
He would no longer act recklessly.
He would request support.
He would confront Julian D’Aurelius head-on with reinforcements powerful enough to crush every hidden trick that bastard possessed.
The phone rang several times.
Then...
The call connected.
Steffan instinctively straightened his back despite his injuries.
The arrogance he displayed before others vanished completely.
His voice became respectful.
Even carrying a trace of humility.
"Patriarch Obsidian King, this is Steffan."
"What is it?"
A weathered voice came from the other end of the line.
"I need organizational support..."
Steffan gritted his teeth as those words left his mouth.
For a brief moment, he closed his eyes.
As the Martial Art King of the Farlands, asking for help was something he had never imagined himself doing. Pride had always been one of his greatest strengths, yet tonight, reality had crushed that pride beyond recognition. Julian D’Aurelius had taken everything from him in a single encounter. There was no room left for arrogance.
Taking a slow breath, Steffan reported everything that had happened in Silverhaven City without hiding a single detail.
He spoke of Julian’s mysterious techniques.
He spoke of Black Ghost and White Ghost falling into Julian’s hands.
He spoke of losing the Mystic Life Fruit.
Most importantly, he admitted his own defeat.
When he finished speaking, silence lingered on the other end of the line.
The quiet was so heavy that even Steffan’s heartbeat sounded unusually loud inside the small apartment.
After a long moment of silence, the weathered voice finally spoke again.
"I am already aware of the situation in Silverhaven City. I dispatched the Twelve Earthly Branches to Valemont a day ago."
"They have already begun operations in Valemont. Once you arrive, you’ll be in charge of commanding them."
"I have also placed several chess pieces in Valemont, and they will act together."
"If we fail to take Valemont this time, the Obsidian Wing organization will lose face."
"You need not return if that happens."
The old voice remained calm throughout, as though discussing nothing more than ordinary business.
Yet every word carried immense pressure.
Steffan understood exactly what those final words meant.
Failure...
Would equal death.
There would be no second chance.
Before he could respond, the line went dead.
Beep...
Beep...
Beep...
Steffan slowly lowered the phone from his ear.
The room fell silent once more.
Despite being given what was essentially an ultimatum, there wasn’t the slightest trace of fear on his face.
Instead...
A smile gradually spread across his lips.
It wasn’t a smile of happiness.
It was the smile of someone who had finally seen hope after standing on the edge of despair.
"The Twelve Earthly Branches..."