Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)
Chapter 410: Where is he?

Chapter 410: Where is he?

The late afternoon sun, filtered through the panoramic window of Xiang Yu’s private lounge. He sat in a low, plush armchair, one leg crossed elegantly over the other.

His expression was unconcerned. Almost bored. A crystal glass, half-filled with a shimmering, amber liquid, rested lightly in his hand, catching the light and scattering it in tiny prisms across the polished floor.

In front of him, a holographic screen, seemingly suspended in mid-air, flickered with breaking news. The images were stark: explosions blooming across the ochre surface of a mining planet, Republic cruisers engulfed in flames, and frantic evacuation efforts. The headline screamed in bold, crimson characters: FEDERATION ATTACKS! WAR DECLARED!

The news anchor’s voice, tight with barely suppressed panic, detailed the Federation’s surprise offensive, the devastating losses incurred by the Republic’s outer rim defence fleet. Then, the broadcast cut to a live feed from the Federation capital.

There, standing on a grand balcony overlooking a cheering crowd, was Sirius. His face, usually smooth and composed, was contorted with a fierce intensity.

His dark uniform, adorned with an array of medals, seemed to amplify his already imposing presence. An almost palpable aura of power radiated from him.

"People of the Republic!" Sirius’s voice boomed across the broadcast, amplified by unseen speakers. "This war, this senseless bloodshed, is on your Imperial Lord’s head! His insatiable greed, his lust for power, has brought us to this precipice!"

The crowd behind Sirius roared its approval. The camera zoomed in on Sirius’s face, capturing the glint of malice in his eyes.

"If you truly desire peace," he continued, his voice dripping with condescension, "if you wish to avoid further suffering, you will accede to our demands. Unconditional surrender. The transfer of all disputed territories. And..."

He paused, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his lips. "You know what I want, Your Highness Xiang Yu." He looked directly into the camera, his gaze seemingly piercing through the screen and into Xiang Yu’s very soul. The smirk widened. "You know exactly what I want."

Xiang Yu took a leisurely sip of his drink, the amber liquid swirling in the crystal glass. He swirled it again, watching the light dance within its depths. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t react. He simply...sipped.

The world was burning around him yet here he was taking a casual sip of his drink. His expression remained unchanged, a mask of polite indifference.

He set the glass down gently on a nearby table, the delicate click echoing in the otherwise silent room. He finally looked up at the screen, his gaze meeting Sirius’s through the lens. A flicker of something, annoyance perhaps, danced in his eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same, unnerving calm.

He reached out and, with the tip of his finger, casually dismissed the holographic screen. It vanished, leaving the room bathed once more in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. he leaned back in his chair, his expression serene.

Sirius’s theatrics had, inadvertently, played into Xiang Yu’s hands. The Emperor, consumed by the need to project an image of unwavering strength and resolve in the face of the Federation’s aggression, had been too preoccupied to notice Han Xin’s disappearance.

He had deployed the Marshal, a calculated move designed to reassure the populace and project an air of decisive action. This was precisely the opening he and Marshal Wu had been waiting for. With the current Marshal absent, the palace was ripe for the taking.

Just as this thought crossed his mind, the door to his chambers was thrust open, the sound echoing through the room like a thunderclap. The atmosphere instantly shifted, the air becoming thick and heavy, charged with raw power. An intense, suffocating aura, the unmistakable presence of a high-ranking Alpha, flooded the space.

Xiang Yu gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching. His veins throbbed, pulsing beneath his skin as he fought against the instinctive urge to submit. His father strode into the room, his attendant trailing nervously behind him.

The Imperial Lord’s face was a mask of cold fury, his eyes narrowed and menacing. But Xiang Yu refused to be intimidated. He met his father’s gaze, his own expression unwavering. He would not kneel. He would not yield. He would stand his ground, even if his body broke under the strain.

The pressure on his mind was immense. He could feel his mental defences being battered, torn apart by the Imperial Lord’s overwhelming psychic power.

A thin trickle of blood began to seep from his nose, a testament to the brutal psychic assault he was enduring. Imperial Lord Xiang’s eyes were bloodshot, burning with a furious red light.

"Where is he?" the Imperial Lord demanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

Xiang Yu’s lips curled into a defiant smirk. He glared at his father, his eyes flashing with a fierce light that mirrored, yet somehow surpassed the Imperial Lord’s rage. "I haven’t left my palace for days," he said, his voice steady despite the immense pressure he was under. "How could I possibly know where he is?"

The Imperial Lord trembled with barely contained rage. With a roar, he swung his hand, the force of the blow sending Xiang Yu crashing against the wall. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, pain radiating through his body.

His father’s steward fell to his knees, his face pale with fear. He began to plead for Xiang Yu, begging the imperial Lord for mercy. But the Imperial Lord ignored him, his eyes fixed on his son with a murderous glint.

He strode over to Xiang Yu, who now looked dishevelled, his clothes slightly torn, a trickle of blood running down his temple. The Imperial Lord grasped the front of Xiang Yu’s tunic, hauling him to his feet. "Where is he?" he snarled, his voice thick with fury.

Xiang Yu, despite the pain and the humiliation, met his father’s gaze with unwavering defiance. "I don’t know," he retorted, his voice hoarse but steady. "Perhaps I should be asking you that question... Father."

The Imperial Lord’s rage intensified. He had already checked the palace security. There were no breaches, no unauthorized entries or exits. And, as Xiang Yu had claimed, there was no record of him leaving his private palace. Everything pointed to Han Xin still being within the supposedly impenetrable confines of his secret lab.

But Han Xin was gone. Which meant only one thing: someone had tampered with the system, someone with access and knowledge. And the Imperial Lord knew, with chilling certainty, who that someone was.

"I know you helped him escape," the Imperial Lord hissed, his grip tightening on Xiang Yu’s collar. "Tell me where he is, or I will torture the information out of you."

Suddenly, a searing pain exploded in Xiang Yu’s mind. It felt like a thousand needles piercing his skull, a relentless, agonizing assault on his consciousness. He gritted his teeth, his body trembling, veins throbbing in his neck and forehead

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