Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT)
Chapter 421: Losing Control

Chapter 421: Losing Control

The hum of the hovercar vibrated through Han Xin, a physical manifestation of the tremor in his chest. His fingers were locked around the hilt of Bloodreaver, the sword Xiang Yu had gifted him.

It was more than just a sword. It was a relic, a tangible link to his past, to his father and the others before him. In his past life, he had found it in the imperial vault under tight security. He knew it wasn’t an easy task for Xiang Yu to get this sword.

He had to have risked everything to retrieve it, a fact that now felt like a lead weight in Han Xin’s gut. He clutched it tighter, the cold sheath a small comfort against the burning turmoil in his heart. He hadn’t relinquished his hold on the weapon since they began the journey back. At night, he had even slept with it clutched to his chest, the weight of it a constant reminder of the man who had given it to him.

Xiang Yu had known. That realization was a physical blow. He had known his true identity all along. Han Xin didnt care when Xiang Yu had found out and if he had a motive being close to him. As long as Xiang Yu stayed by his side he didn’t care.

And then there were the rings. His parents’ rings. Xiang Yu had not only risked his life for the sword but for these precious tokens of his family. Han Xin only received one of them when he woke up.

When he asked Han Zhan where the other ring was, Han Zhan told him that he saw Xiang Yu wearing it. Ever since then Han Xin had been going insane, looking forward to the day he would get to set his eyes on Xiang Yu again but who would have thought that the man he was looking forward

to seeing was gone.

He had played out the scene of them meeting again a thousand times in his head. How he would embrace him and never let go but now, he was gone...

Marshal Wu’s words echoed in the confines of the hovercar, empty and defeated. "I have been looking for him everywhere," the Marshal had said, his voice heavy with the weight of failure, "but so far there has been no news." No news. The phrase echoed in Han Xin’s mind. It was a sentence that extinguished his anticipation, leaving only the cold ashes of despair.

The hum of the engine seemed to amplify the silence, the weight of his grief pressing down on him. Han Xin’s chest heaved, a surge of raw emotion threatening to break free. The confined space of the hovercar suddenly felt too small, the air thick and heavy. Marshal Wu shifted nervously, sensing the shift in Han Xin’s demeanour. An oppressive tension filled the air, making it difficult to breathe.

Han Xin’s eyes, usually sharp and calculating, began to glow with an otherworldly blue light. His head throbbed, a dull ache quickly escalating into a sharp, piercing pain, but he barely registered it.

His focus was entirely consumed by the gaping void left by Xiang Yu’s absence. Why, why did he have to leave? Why didn’t he wait for him to return?

Suddenly, a sharp sting in his arm pierced through the fog of his rage. Han Zhan, having seen that Han Xin had lost control, took out an auto-injector and emptied it into Han Xin’s arm.

Han Xin blinked, his vision clearing. The blue light receded from his eyes, and the suffocating pressure in the hovercar began to dissipate. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, he looked down at Bloodreaver, his grip loosening slightly.

Marshal Wu gasped, his face flushed and strained. "I... I apologise, Your Majesty," he managed, his voice hoarse. "I should have... watched him more closely." He doubled over, coughing violently as he struggled to regain his breath.

Han Xin still disoriented from the sudden surge and subsequent suppression of his power, simply stared at the sword in his hand, the silence in the hovercar broken only by the hum of the engine and Marshal Wu’s ragged breaths. The turmoil within him, however, remained a dark and restless tide.

Han Zhan tried to fill the silence with words but Han Xin didn’t hear a single one of them. His mind was like a tumultuous sea, each wave crashing harder against his fragile composure. Xiang Yu was gone. That thought alone was a dagger twisting in his gut, a relentless torment that refused to let go.

He had never imagined that someone could wield such power over him, could unravel him so completely. Xiang Yu’s absence was a gaping chasm, a void that sucked all light and reason from the world.

The thought of never seeing him again, of not knowing where he was, twisted something primal inside him. It was a madness he hadn’t known he was capable of, a desperate, clawing need that threatened to consume him whole.

His ears rang a high-pitched whine that drowned out everything around him. He could feel the slickness of sweat on his palms, and he rubbed them nervously against the fine fabric of his trousers, leaving dark smudges. He won’t see him again. The thought hammered in his mind, a relentless, rhythmic pulse. He won’t see him again.

It was a feeling he knew, a phantom ache of loss that resonated deep within him. It felt like a memory, a scar tissue of the soul.

He had felt this before, this bone-deep certainty of loss, and the memory of it sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He tried to focus on Han Zhan’s words, his lips moving, but the sounds were muffled and distorted like he was underwater. All Han Xin could hear was the frantic beat of his own heart.

The hovercar hissed to a stop, the doors sliding open with a whoosh. Han Xin surged forward, his movements jerky and urgent. He had to see it for himself.

Maybe the Marshal was wrong and Xiang Yu had returned waiting for him. Maybe, just maybe Xiang Yu was there waiting in his room, hugging that damn body pillow. A sliver of hope, fragile as a butterfly’s wing, fluttered within him.

He practically leapt from the hovercar, his boots hitting the palace courtyard with a sharp crack. He didn’t wait for Han Zhan, didn’t even register his cousin’s hand reaching out as he called out "Ah-Xin! Wait!"

Han Xin shrugged him off, his eyes fixed on the grand staircase leading to Xiang Yu’s private chambers. His steps were too fast, his breath ragged, but he couldn’t stop. He had to see.

Marshal Wu, catching up to him, hesitated. A flicker of confusion crossed his face. "Does... doesn’t his majesty... hate Xiang Yu?" he asked, a crease forming between his brows.

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