Chapter 173: Chapter Hundred And Seventy Two
Damon slowly stood back up to his full, terrifying height. He looked down at the older woman.
"I will settle the score with every single one of you," Damon promised out loud. His voice was clear and filled with certainty. "One by one."
He listed their crimes, letting them know exactly what they were going to pay for.
"Starting from the suspicious death of my parents," Damon said, his eyes narrowing. "To framing Camilla as a spy for the enemy. To my accident that broke my leg. And every other little thing your greedy family has done to me in the dark."
Adeline closed her eyes for a moment.
Damon turned his body away from her. He looked down at the guard still kneeling in the dirt.
"But first," Damon said, his voice changing into a flat, emotionless tone. He rolled his shoulders and the sleeves of his shirt. "I have to deal with this."
The guard looked up. He saw Damon’s dark eyes.
"Please, My Lord! No!" the guard pleaded, raising his hands to protect his face.
Damon did not hesitate. He reached down with speed and grabbed the front of the guard’s armor, hauling the man halfway up from the floor.
Damon pulled his right arm back. He clenched his large, scarred hand into a tight, solid fist.
SMASH.
Damon punched the guard directly in the face. The sound of the fist hitting bone was loud and sickening in the small cell.
The guard groaned in agony, his head snapping violently backward. Blood immediately burst from his nose.
But Damon did not stop. This was why men called him the Tyrant General. He was ruthless. He punished betrayal with extreme, brutal physical violence.
SMASH. SMASH. SMASH.
Damon punched the man repeatedly. He hit him with the same force, his fist moving like an iron hammer. He did not show a single ounce of mercy.
Blood splattered across the dirt floor. The guard’s face was quickly bruised, swollen, and covered in dark red blood. The man could not even scream; he just let out wet, painful grunts as the heavy blows rained down on him.
Lady Adeline and Elora scrambled backward on the wooden bench, screaming in horror. They pressed their backs against the mossy wall, watching the brutal, bloody beating happening right in front of them.
After ten heavy punches, the guard went completely limp in Damon’s grip.
Damon let go of the armor. The guard collapsed onto the dirt floor, unconscious, his face a bloody, unrecognizable mess.
Damon stood over the fallen man. He breathed slowly and evenly. He looked down at his right hand. His knuckles were completely covered in the guard’s blood.
He did not wipe it off.
Damon raised his head. He looked at the door.
"Kade!!!" Damon called out. His loud, booming voice easily pierced through the thick metal door.
Instantly, the iron bolt scraped back. The door swung open. Kade stepped into the cell, his eyes quickly scanning the bloody scene. He saw the unconscious guard on the floor.
Kade bowed his head. "Yes, General."
Damon looked at his aide. He delivered his judgment for the guard.
"Take him out of the mansion," Damon ordered smoothly. His voice was completely calm, showing no emotion over the violence he had just committed. "He is officially relieved of all his duties. He is banished from the Benson house forever."
Kade nodded. He stepped forward to grab the bleeding man’s boots.
But Damon was not finished. He was indeed ruthless, but he was also a man who understood logic. The guard had betrayed him for money, but the guard had also refused to kill an innocent animal, proving he was not completely evil.
"And," Damon added, his voice dropping slightly. "Send a good, capable doctor to his residence in the city immediately."
Kade paused, looking up in surprise.
Damon looked at the unconscious man. "Cover the medical bills for his father’s treatment. Pay it in full from my personal treasury."
Kade’s eyes widened slightly. He bowed, not understanding the General’s complex sense of justice.
"Yes, My Lord," Kade agreed.
Kade grabbed the guard by the arms and dragged the unconscious, bleeding man out of the holding cell. He pulled the door shut, but he did not lock it.
Damon stood in the center of the cell. He slowly turned his body back toward the wooden bench.
He looked at Elora.
Elora was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest. She was shaking violently. She had just watched a man get beaten halfway to death.
Damon took a slow step toward her.
Elora thought to herself, her mind completely consumed by pure panic. "He is going to hit me next. He is going to punch me like he punched the guard."
But Damon did not make a fist.
He walked right up to the bench. He reached out his large, blood-stained right hand.
With terrifying speed, Damon grabbed Elora directly by her throat.
"Ah!" Elora choked out a small gasp as his large fingers wrapped completely around her neck.
Damon did not lift her off the bench, but he squeezed his grip. He immediately restricted the airflow to her lungs.
Elora’s hands flew up. She grabbed his wrist, trying desperately to pull his fingers away. But his grip was like iron. She could not move him an inch.
Lady Adeline watched her daughter being choked. Her motherly instincts finally broke through her paralyzing terror.
Adeline threw herself forward on the bench. She grabbed Damon’s arm, crying loudly.
"Damon!!!" Adeline screamed, tears pouring down her face. "Please! Please let her go! She is your cousin! She is your family! We have the same blood! Please don’t kill her!"
Damon did not look at Adeline. His dark, cold eyes remained locked entirely onto Elora’s terrified, bulging eyes.
Damon replied, his voice a low, dangerous, deadly whisper.
"When she schemed against my wife," Damon asked coldly, squeezing his fingers just a tiny fraction tighter. "Did she remember we were family?"
Elora gasped, her mouth opening wide like a dying fish. She could not draw any air into her burning lungs.
Damon leaned closer to the choking girl.
"Camilla is the only real family I have left in this world after grandfather," Damon stated. The words were true. He had realized it the moment he saw Camilla protecting him in the garden. She was his only ally.
He glared at Elora with unhidden disgust.
"And you actually dared to do that to her," Damon whispered fiercely. "You tried to frame her. You tried to ruin her. You are nothing to me."
He tightened his grip one more time.
Elora began turning a dark, terrifying shade of purple. The lack of oxygen was destroying her brain. Her thrashing hands became weak. Her kicks against the wooden bench slowed down. Her eyes rolled slightly backward. She was seconds away from completely losing consciousness and dying.
Adeline sobbed hysterically, completely helpless, begging the heavens for mercy.
Just as Elora’s hands fell limply to her sides, Damon opened his fingers.
He let go of her throat immediately.
He threw her backward roughly. Elora fell onto the bench.
She collapsed, gasping wildly, greedily sucking huge breaths of damp air into her starving lungs. She coughed violently, holding her bruised throat, tears streaming down her purple face. She was entirely traumatized by the feeling of impending death.
Damon took a step back. He stood tall, looking down at his right hand.
He looked calmly at the dark red blood stains covering his knuckles from the guard. He did not look angry anymore. He looked utterly bored by their pathetic existence.
Damon spoke. His voice echoed clearly in the quiet, damp cell.
"I let you go today because nothing bad actually happened to my wife," Damon stated smoothly. "The cat did not die. The frame-up failed. Camilla is unharmed."
He slowly lowered his hand to his side. He looked at both Adeline and Elora. His eyes were dead and empty.
"But stay away from her," Damon warned them. It was a final command. "If you do something like this ever again... if you even look at her the wrong way... I won’t hesitate to finish what I just started."
He did not wait for their replies. He did not care about their tears.
Damon turned his broad back to the two noblewomen. He began walking toward the open door, ready to leave the dark cell and return to the bright lights of the room upstairs.
Lady Adeline sat on the bench, holding her coughing, traumatized daughter. Adeline felt a surge of desperate, bitter anger mixed with her fear. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to remind him that he was not invincible.
"Do you think your uncle will let you off?"
Adeline shouted at his back, her voice shaking with angry tears. "When your uncle hears about what you have done to us today, he will come for you! Your uncle has a large army! He will destroy you!"
Damon reached the iron doorway.
He did not stop walking. He did not turn back around to look at her.
He simply paused for a tiny second. A dark, dangerous, confident smirk touched the corners of his lips.
Damon replied, his deep voice carrying a tone of anticipation into the dark cell.
"I am actually waiting for him."
With those final words, Damon stepped out into the hallway. The head guard quickly slammed the door shut behind him, locking the bolt firmly into place.
