Chapter 1503: Chapter 1503

Clift lingered near the entrance, pretending to scroll through his phone while the last of the guests drifted out, their laughter fading into the night. The glow from the building’s chandelier cast over him in gold light, flickering faintly against his glasses.

Across the lobby, Sean Lockwood checked his watch for the third time, irritation creasing his brow. His gaze darted toward the restroom again, jaw tightening.

Moments later, Igor burst out from the door, face alight with a grin so wide it looked almost unnatural. His step was lighter, his eyes gleaming with the kind of joy only winners, or liars, wear.

Sean’s frown deepened. Just minutes ago, Igor had been sulking, shoulders slumped, eyes dead with worry. Now he was practically glowing.

"What the he*l..." Sean muttered under his breath.

"Let’s go!" Igor ignores Sean’s probing look, then brushes past him with a wild sort of energy radiating from every movement.

Sean hesitated, gaze flicking once more toward the restroom. Something is strange. But Igor was already halfway down the stairs, and Sean couldn’t let him leave alone. Sean grumbled angrily, then chased after Igor.

A moment later, the restroom door opened again.

Samuel Lockwood stepped out, unhurried, adjusting his cuffs as if he’d merely washed his hands. The faintest hint of satisfaction touched his lips.

Clift slipped his phone into his coat pocket and looked up.

"Is it done?" he asked in a light tone.

Samuel smiled meaningfully, "Yeah," he said. "Easier than I thought."

"Okay then..." Clift answered perfunctorily as if he already expected it.

After that, Clift and Samuel stepped into the night. Behind them, the towering lights of the Valkyrium Arena pulsed faintly, their colors bleeding into the mist that curled along the street. The city hummed, restless and alive, as if unaware of the quiet deception taking root in its shadows.

In the days that followed, Igor began reaching out to Samuel in secret. Messages were exchanged at odd hours, short and coded, questions about beastfighting techniques, betting patterns, and the subtle instincts that separated luck from control. Samuel answered with measured patience, feeding Igor’s growing obsession.

When Igor placed his next wager, the beasts clashed under the roaring light and metallic thunder of the arena. He watched, tense but hopeful, as the creature he’d bet on struck the final blow.

Victory flashed across the screens, and Igor’s expression lit up with disbelief and triumph. Igor couldn’t believe the goddess of luck had finally answered his prayer.

But the truth is, the fight had been decided long before it began. Clift had made sure of it. The right payment to the right official, a few quiet favors traded behind closed doors, nothing unusual in Valkyrium’s gambling circles.

Fixing a match was as common as breathing, so no one thought too much of it. So when Clift came with a big sum of money, asking to fix the game in their favor to make his boss look good in front of his potential clients, they agreed readily.

And thus, at the next Beastfights, Igor struck another win. He cheers excitedly, jumping from his chair, and he raises his fist to the air like he just won the world competition.

Igor had never been lucky when it came to gambling; it was as if fortune always seemed to mock him from a distance, close enough to tempt, never near enough to touch. But these past few days were different. Once again, he was winning again!.

The numbers flashed across the holo-screens, sealing his victory. For a moment, Igor just stared, unblinking, as if the universe had glitched in his favor. Then laughter burst out of him, raw and disbelieving.

Across the table, Sean blinked in surprise. "You’ve got to be kidding me," he muttered, leaning back in his seat. "How the hell did you pull that off?"

Igor deliberately hid the truth about Samuel. Samuel had once reminded him to keep their relationship quiet; he didn’t want too many people knowing about him. If he started teaching others, he might no longer have time for Igor, and Igor wasn’t about to risk his chance to become the so-called god of gamblers.

If Samuel had heard him now, he would’ve sighed and said, ’You dream too big, buddy.’ For more chapters visıt 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✦𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮✦𝓷𝓮𝓽

Not wanting to risk his hard-earned opportunity, Igor shrugged casually. "Just got a few tips from someone, that’s all."

Sean frowned, unconvinced, but didn’t press. After all, it was just a gamble. Nothing worth digging into.

Meanwhile, in the other private booth above from Igor and Sean booth, two men observed the celebration below. Through the tinted glass, they watched Igor throw his arms up in triumph, the light from the arena screens painting his face in flickering gold.

A thin smile curved Samuel’s lips. Beside him, Clift watched in silence, his gaze steady and unreadable. Their plan had been moving smoothly so far. Whatever Igor was doing in Zenon, and whatever part Sean Lockwood played in it, they intended to find out soon enough.

Somewhere high above the city, in his penthouse suite, Sean sat on the balcony with a glass of whiskey in hand, eyes fixed on the news glowing from his phone screen.

Even in Zenon, the headlines about the Lucient family had reached him. Shocked and amused at once, he could only imagine his older brother’s face, and especially hers.

Sean zoomed in on Alinna’s face, her practiced smile frozen mid-frame. She was barely able to hold that gentle, benevolent smile shehad learned for years. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Unlike most people in the world, or even within his own organization, Sean knew who Alinna truly was. He still remembered the day Salvo first brought her in.

Beneath that flawless façade, sculpted so meticulously by Alexander Behrenn and Salvo De Rova, she was still the same frightened, timid girl she had always been.

The organization had done everything to suppress that nature, shaping her into the so-called ’new hope’ of this world, the savior meant to replace the Lucient family.

But thousands of years of history cannot be erased so easily. They could wipe names, rewrite memories, and silence every trace of the Lucients... yet the weight of centuries, of blood and sacrifice, could never truly be forgotten.

He understood that to achieve their vision, every last trace of the Lucient bloodline had to be erased. But deep down, Sean had always been a pessimist. How could anyone hope to triumph over the myths and legends surrounding the Lucients? The plan had always seemed too ambitious, insane, even.

And yet, somehow, they had almost pulled it off...Almost.

With a flick of his thumb, Sean swiped past Alinna’s photo to another, an old image of Princess Lorient, taken when she was only sixteen, attending a royal banquet in Cestine Palace.

In the picture, King Marcus held her hand with fatherly pride, while beside her, Prince Lucas stood with his usual calm smile, one hand tucked casually into his pocket. Relaxed, yet impossibly dignified.

It was one of the few public photos ever captured of them together. Sean remembered how it had gone viral back then, how people all over the world had saved it as their screensaver, entranced by what it represented.

Seeing the last three bearers of the Lucient bloodline was like catching a glimpse of living history. There was something ancient, magnetic, almost divine about those violet eyes, and paired with their striking beauty, it was no wonder the world had been captivated by them. He couldn’t deny it...once upon a time, he had been, too.

Sean drained the last of his whiskey and exhaled heavily, the warmth searing down his throat. Perhaps if something had happened to King Lucas, he thought, their plan might still have a chance.

People were selfish by nature, when they caught in dire situation and realizes they could no longer rely on the Lucients, they would inevitably turn to next powerful being in order ro save themselves.

Human were pathetic like that, unfortunately, now that King Lucas had awakened... Sean could already see the cracks forming. He couldn’t imagine how far their carefully laid plans would get derail because of this.

Sean swiped his thumb across the phone screen, the images flickering past until he stopped at a painting of Princess Lorient. Then, another photo appeared—Zhao Li Xin.

He remembered this man was supposedly Raven Jane’s husband. Yet as he studied the image, something felt off. Raven wasn’t in the picture. In fact, he realized he had never once seen the two of them together.

A thought lingered in his mind, were they really a married couple? And if Zhao Li Xin was in Heriond, could that mean... Raven Jane was there too? there’s a high chance she was there.

To this day, Sean still couldn’t understand his feelings toward her. What was it about Raven Jane that caught his attention so completely? He couldn’t forget her, no matter how much he tried. It wasn’t her beauty, he’d seen women far more stunning women in the entertainment industry. So what was it?

Sean stared at the screen, his expression distant, until something clicked. His hand stopped at Princess Lorient’s picture.

Those eyes...The shape was slightly different and the color were also different, yet the feeling they gave, the quiet strength, the haunting familiarity...it felt strangely similar.