Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2400 Southern Princess's Gift

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Chapter 2400 Southern Princess's Gift

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Lil. Red Storm realm

"It's me," Wyatt said suddenly, his voice steady as he turned to lock eyes with Henricks. "I believe you guys are the gift she prepared for me."

Henricks froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. The shock on his face quickly gave way to realization as Wyatt's words sank in. Looking at his current predicament-standing before Wyatt, practically begging for help-he couldn't deny that Wyatt might be right. He clenched his fists, his anger bubbling to the surface as he yelled, "What kind of sick game is this?"

His voice shook with fury, and for a moment, it looked as though he might charge at Wyatt. But Henricks held himself back, knowing full well he stood no chance against Wyatt, let alone the forest spirit and girl standing nearby. Still, his frustration boiled over. "Why would she use innocent lives as pawns in this twisted game?" he growled, his chest heaving barely able to contain his rage.

Wyatt remained calm, shaking his head as if Henricks were missing the point entirely. His gaze was steady, almost pitying, as he replied, "The real question is whether I should accept her gift. Because if I do, it would mean forgiving her for everything she's done up to this point."

Henricks's jaw dropped, his face twisting in disbelief. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" he shouted, his voice raw. "You're telling me you'd let innocent lives be destroyed just because of some petty grudge with the Southern Princess?"

Wyatt exhaled slowly, his gaze lifting to the swirling rings of the Lil. Red Storm above them. "Can't you see?" he said, his tone almost detached, as though speaking to himself as much as Henricks. "That's the brilliance of her gift. She's left me no real choice. I have to accept it. When I accept it, it will be definite that I've forgiven her for everything. Every betrayal, every scheme. It's her way of backing me into her corner without even being here."

Henricks shook his head, his anger simmering beneath the surface as Wyatt's words cut deeper. Wyatt, meanwhile, stood silent, his eyes fixed on the sky, wondering how someone as cunning as the Southern Princess had been dismantled by the Matron step by step-and yet still managed to play her pieces so masterfully.

With Colleen's death, the Southern Royal family had become a shadow of its former self-a hollow shell. But now, things were different. Wyatt and Clown Mask had changed everything. Clown Mask's timely information had saved Colleen, and Wyatt's presence had rekindled the dormant ambitions of the entire Southern Region.

Just as mothers are the glue that holds families together, the Soldier Queen had been the cornerstone of the Southern Royal family. With her back in the picture, the current Southern Royal family was on an entirely different level.

"Does that mean you have a way to help us?" Henricks asked, his voice trembling slightly as a flicker of hope broke through the despair clouding his heart.

"Yes," Wyatt replied with a curt nod, turning to Dalie. His tone shifted to one of quiet authority as he ordered, "Create a large-scale teleportation channel to these coordinates." He quickly shared the coordinates of the Freedom Fighters' headquarters in the Yellow Plains with her.

Henricks's face lit up briefly with relief, but it faltered as Wyatt turned back to him and added, "In a few minutes, your members will be able to move here-"

"Here?" Henricks interrupted, his voice rising with alarm. The Lil. Red Storm Realm was desolate and hostile to life. The thought of relocating the Freedom Fighters there seemed like a death sentence, the same as the threat posed by the World Leaders. At least with the World leaders, the children might get spared but here they would be first to go.

Wyatt's sharp gaze pinned Henricks in place. "Don't interrupt me," he warned, his tone cold enough to freeze Henricks mid-thought. "As I was saying, your people can move here. But there's a price. Unless you're willing to pay it... well, you understand what that means."

Henricks's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. The warning stung, but he bit back his pride, knowing their survival was at stake. His throat felt dry as he swallowed his ego along with the lump of frustration rising in it. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he forced the words out.

"What is it that you want?" he asked, his voice low but steady, his desperation barely masked by his measured tone.

"You already know what I want," Wyatt said, his frown deepening. The way Henricks asked the question made it clear he hadn't seriously considered Wyatt's previous offer -an insult in itself. It was as though Henricks hadn't even bothered to bring up the proposal with the other department heads of the Freedom Fighters.

Wyatt's irritation flared, but he quickly tempered it, his expression cooling. He understood why his earlier terms had fallen flat. After all, compared to the Southern Princess's promise to provide the Freedom Fighters with safe passage to a new home in another realm, his own offer had been lackluster at best.

Surrendering to him by joining his criminal rehabilitation program and admitting to the crimes leveled against them by the central government? That wasn't just unappealing-it was a slap in the face to everything the Freedom Fighters stood for. Of course, Henricks hadn't given it a second thought.

But now the tables had turned. Wyatt was offering something far more compelling than what the Southern Princess promised to deliver and reneged on. This time, he was confident Henricks would give him the answer he wanted-despite any lingering doubts or hesitations. After all, the Southern Princess had reduced their entire organization to a point where they didn't have many options left. They no longer had the luxury to carefully assess, discuss, or deliberate over Wyatt's offer. Let alone hold a meeting between the captains and vote. It was now or never-they had to accept it and get erased from existence.