Chapter 122
Philix stood before the two solemn rows of corpses and bowed deeply, his voice resonant with conviction.
“Rest well, brave heroes. You protected me for one moment—I will guard the Northern Territory for a lifetime!”
Stellar, Henderson, and the inspectors raised their arms in a silent salute.
Grant, Joseph, Zakariah, and Skadi followed suit, bowing respectfully to the fallen.
Later that morning, Jade arrived, accompanied by a delegation of high-ranking officials from Jonford. They too bowed in reverence, honoring the sacrifices made to protect the warden.
Among the gathered mourners, Cillian, Lloyd, and Nash paid their respects differently—each placed a hand over their heart.
Given their stature in both the martial world and the priest community, they weren’t obliged to offer formal gestures. But for these fallen protectors, they chose to bow their heads in humility. The price paid deserved nothing less.
—
Half an hour later, a funeral home’s hearse, guided by an ambulance, entered the estate. Medical staff performed final checks, confirming the deaths before the workers gently placed each body into a bag.
With the solemn task complete, Nash turned his attention to Philix.
He handed over a prescription. “Take the medicine exactly as directed. If you eat properly and rest, you’ll make a full recovery in a month.”
Years of poisoning had ravaged Philix’s body. His long battle with deossification had left him malnourished. Despite standing nearly 1.8 meters tall, his weight barely touched 100 pounds.
Philix didn’t stand on ceremony. He handed the prescription to Stella and clasped Nash’s hand.
“Nash, I won’t waste words. If you’re ever in trouble, come find me.”
Nash grinned. “You got it!”
—
With goodbyes exchanged, Nash returned to Baroque. Philix, who had been away from the Northern Territory for far too long, prepared to return home immediately.
Two hours later, aboard a private jet slicing through clouds, Philix stared silently out the window, deep in thought.
Stellar approached and placed a steaming cup of tea on the table before him. Taking a seat across from the warden, he spoke with a knowing smile.
“Warden, you look like something’s weighing on you.”
Philix took a slow sip before replying. “There’s something… unusual about Nash. I can’t put my finger on it, but I felt a powerful aura around him.”
Stellar was surprised. “Could it be because he saved your life twice? Maybe it’s just admiration?”
Philix shook his head slowly. “No. When I first crossed paths with the Smiling Grim Reaper, I sensed he was a young man—someone in his twenties. Others feared him, but I felt… strangely familiar with him.”
During that encounter, Nash had only shown his eyes. Most would never have recognized him, but Philix felt an uncanny sense of understanding—like his instincts could see through the veil.
Stellar chuckled. “He wouldn’t happen to be your long-lost relative, would he? Should we have the Skye family investigate?”
Philix frowned at the jest, then turned serious. “Let’s not focus on that for now. When we return to the Northern Territory, keep my recovery quiet. I want this to stay hidden.”
Stellar nodded. “Understood. I’ll also get to the bottom of who poisoned you.”
—
Back in Northjon, at the Baroque branch office, Nash sat in the security manager’s office, absently spinning a pen in his fingers. He couldn’t shake the image of Philix’s wise and weathered face.