Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 450: Mad Man Meant For Greatness

Chapter 450: Mad Man Meant For Greatness

"Hey, what are you still doing here?" Josef called out as he spotted a flickering shadow lurking near the iron meteorite mines, illuminated by a dim oil lamp. "It’s time for bed!"

Night had fallen, and most of the workers were already planning on turning in for the night. King Atticus had pulled out his men from the area and sent them back to the palace; Josef heard the other workers say that his wife got into some nasty shit with some escaped convict and he had to go back, but he was of the opinion that King Atticus went back because he got enough iron meteorites.

Men like King Atticus wouldn’t stop until they reached their goals.

This meant that this shadow belonged to either a Xahan miner or some stupid knight who refused to go back, thinking he could make away with his own stash of iron meteorites when no one was looking.

Tough luck for him. Josef was always looking. He was not one of King Calarian’s long-trusted men for nothing. No one would be filching even the slightest shavings off an iron meteorite ore, not if he had anything to do with it. It didn’t matter if it was a citizen from Xahan or some hoity-toity noble. If King Calarian had not given them permission, they were simply not allowed to take the iron meteorite.

"Hello? Can you hear me? You need to go!" Josef called out again.

The shadow shifted, but whoever it belonged to refused to leave the mines. Judging by the broad shoulders, the straight back, yet skinny enough arms, the person was most likely not a Xahan miner. Their arms had been weathered through hard work, and every single one of them boasted biceps that could crush a man’s skull.

Which meant that it must belong to some foreign knight. Just great.

Josef stifled a sigh. Those were the worst― they refused to listen to him because of his lack of noble titles, and they never respected the land either. But then in an area without magic, Josef could hold his own in a fight.

The person refused to appear. Josef stomped closer, intending to give the interloper several choice words, only to be greeted by someone he had never seen before.

"Who the fuck―" Before Josef could demand an explanation, he felt a sharp pain in his body.

He looked down and paled. Buried in his belly was a sword long enough to pierce through his back. Fuck. This man was one of those mercenary thieves!

He choked out a pained moan as he tried to lunge for his assailant, trying to make as much noise as possible to alert the other men to the threat.

"Intruder... intruder..." Josef struggled, but somehow, he felt his body weakening quickly. Was he poisoned?

"Shhhh... shhh..." The blond man held a finger to Josef’s lips, as though he was cajoling a child. "It’s okay. They’ll all join you soon enough."

"Who... who... are you?" Josef groaned. "Why... why are you here?"

"I suppose I can tell you my name since you’re a dead man walking." The man smiled, his green eyes twinkling ominously under the dim light.

Josef felt a shiver crawl down his spine as he stared down at a human serpent.

"Jean Nott, at your service."

And Josef knew nothing more. Jean watched dispassionately as the last of his light left his eyes, before finally pulling out his dagger. He had gotten what he came for, so he was here for one last visit to reminisce. It took him much longer than King Atticus to harvest his needed amount of iron meteorite since he had to enter in secret.

Thankfully, Atticus had brought enough men for him to blend in in the beginning.

"You shouldn’t have come to interrupt me," Jean scolded the corpse. "Because of you, I had to dirty my sword with your blood. This was meant for King Atticus, you know."

Of course, the corpse couldn’t respond. Jean sighed and left the mines. The other workers were all gone, but that wasn’t going to save them.

He lifted one hand, and summoned a blast of ice straight at the largest mine, causing the iron meteorites inside to explode into a miasma of fiery red. Violent tremors swept through the ground, while the winds carried dust, debris, and sand through the air, forming a tidal wave of terror that was headed in the direction of Xahan’s capital.

Of course, one mine wouldn’t have enough impact. Jean raised his hand and aimed at a mine further away, delighting at the chaos. Then he blew up another. And another. Xahan would never be able to mine iron meteorites again, assuming they would have the time after Jean unleashed his brand of devastation upon the kingdom.

An onlooker might claim that Jean was insane. How could he eagerly cause explosions while he was still in the vicinity of getting blown to pieces?

Understandable. But Jean had never been a normal person. He was meant for greater things. What was life without a little risk? He hadn’t gotten so far by playing it safe.

Jean Nott looked at the havoc he caused and whistled an errant tune. Magic was truly the best gift of all. It was fun pretending to be a commoner who knew nothing more than the right way to swing a pickaxe, but life was simply a lot more interesting when he could cause terrifying explosions with the touch of a finger.

Jean hoped Daphne enjoyed his gift. He would be paying her a visit very soon.

***

Daphne woke to the sound of harsh screeching. The sound seemed to be blasted through every wall of the palace, making it impossible for her to get back to sleep. A million roosters could not have made such a racket.

Then again, was it even morning? Daphne didn’t think she had slept that long to justify being woken up like this.

"Queen Daphne, please make your way to the inner chambers for your safety, quickly. Time is of the essence," one of the servants hurriedly said as she peered down at her. Before Daphne could even ask what on earth was going on, said servant was already pulling her arms and helping her up from her bed. Daphne could only blink blearily and wonder if she was stuck in a particularly vivid dream.

"What’s happening?"

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