Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel

Chapter 605: The End Of Mulligan

After the meeting, Alfred stormed into his quarters, his rage was obvious.

With a powerful kick, he shattered the door, sending splinters flying as he marched into the room, his face twisted in fury. A nameless dwarf, ever obedient, scurried over, holding a tray of tea, hoping to calm his master’s stormy mood.

"Master, please," the dwarf stammered, his hands shaking slightly as he extended the tray. "A cup of tea to relax you."

But Alfred’s rage was too far gone. With a swift motion, he slapped the tray out of the dwarf’s hands, sending the tea and porcelain crashing to the ground. His eyes burned with frustration as he spat, "Relax? Do you think I can relax when everything is falling apart? First, that weakling Eunid didn’t kill Apollo. And now, the family Council knows about Nora’s cursed gift!"

He stalked across the room, punching and kicking the furniture in a fit of anger. A chair was overturned, a small table splintered beneath his boot. The dwarf cowered, pressing himself against the wall, eyes wide with fear. Alfred’s rage was a force of nature, and the dwarf knew well to stay out of its way.

Suddenly, Alfred turned to the dwarf, his expression darkening even further. "This is *your* fault," he growled, stepping forward menacingly. "If you hadn’t been so useless, none of this would’ve happened!"

Before the dwarf could respond, Alfred lunged, his hand wrapping around the dwarf’s throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. The dwarf gasped for air, clawing at Alfred’s hand, his feet kicking wildly as he struggled for breath.

"I should kill you for this!" Alfred snarled, tightening his grip. The dwarf’s face turned red as he coughed, barely able to get words out through the crushing grip on his neck.

"There’s...another way!" the dwarf wheezed desperately. "Another way...to fix everything. Just...let me speak!"

Alfred paused, his grip loosening just slightly. The dwarf took in a ragged breath, coughing violently as he tried to gather himself. Seeing Alfred’s interest, the dwarf stammered through his pain. "All you need to do...is take power. The family...is already divided. Mulligan is frail, practically on his deathbed. You could...kill him. Make it look like Eunid did it."

Alfred’s eyes narrowed as he listened, intrigued despite himself. His grip on the dwarf’s neck finally relaxed, allowing the trembling creature to drop to the floor, gasping for air.

"Go on," Alfred said, his voice now calm, but dangerously so.

It was all about Nora’s unusual gift—the legendary 100 Body Cauldron of old. If he could use her power, perhaps the flame could be reignited, and the family’s strength restored.

As Mulligan approached the shrine, the guards bowed low in reverence. Their gleaming armor reflected the flickering torchlight, but they knew better than to follow. The shrine was sacred ground, and no one was permitted beyond the heavy stone doors except the patriarch.

The doors groaned as they opened, revealing the inner sanctum. It was a place preserved for generations, filled with ancient reverence. The temple was vast, carved from smooth stone, its walls lined with ornate carvings depicting the lineage of the Diligence family and their connection to the sacred flame.

The air within was thick with the smell of incense, and the faint echo of Mulligan’s footsteps reverberated in the quiet space.

The room itself was dimly lit, but at the far end, elevated high atop a stone stairway, sat the family’s most precious relic: the Flame of the Diligence. It burned with a faint, ethereal glow, casting long shadows across the room. The flame was small, barely flickering, as though it were about to extinguish. And unlike most fires, this one burned with a deep, unnatural purple hue. The light it cast was mesmerizing—both beautiful and haunting.

The divine energy within it was interesting to observe, yet it seemed to be fading, as though the family’s strength ebbed with it.

Mulligan stopped at the base of the stairs, his breathing labored as he stared up at the flame. For centuries, this fire had burned bright, feeding the strength of his ancestors. But now, it was nearly spent. He needed answers.

He needed to know if Nora’s gift could save it—if her power could reignite the flame before it died completely, taking the family’s legacy with it.

He slowly began to climb the stairs, each step a painful reminder of his waning strength. His hand gripped the banister for support, his eyes never leaving the dim purple flame that awaited him. This was his duty as patriarch, to consult with the ancient force that had guided the Diligence family for generations.

As he reached the top, the flame flickered slightly, as though sensing his presence. Mulligan knelt before it, his head bowed. He closed his eyes, allowing the warmth of the flame to wash over him, though it was weak. In that moment, he reached out with his thoughts, seeking the guidance of the flame.

"Will Nora’s power be enough to save you?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Unbeknownst to him, Alfred was preparing to carry out his plan...@@@@