Since the night before, Xavier had been fully suited in military attire, standing vigilant and sleepless. He gripped a massive broadsword, and when the butler spoke, his voice was ice-cold. "Don't worry. Andarov won't fail me. That bastard Andrew is as good as dead."

Though those were his words, doubt lingered in Xavier's mind. After all, Andarov never took this long to finish a kill. Nonetheless, the sun was rising—he should be back any minute now.

Andarov, commander of the Blood Wolf Mercenaries, was ruthless and battle-hardened. Xavier met him while stationed overseas, and after several missions together, they became close allies.

"With the entire Blood Wolf squad under him, it doesn't matter if Andrew has bodyguards. He won't last five minutes," Xavier sneered, confident.

He was already planning the next steps—hold Seth's memorial as soon as Andarov returned, then introduce him to Luna to score even more clout. Having a famous international mercenary as a personal friend? E