“Immortal, let’s talk this over calmly—please don’t harm His Majesty.”

The head of the guards spoke cautiously.

“Clear everyone out. So many people make me nervous—my hands are shaking.”

Eric Bennett said.

“Withdraw, withdraw immediately!”

The head of the guards said without hesitation.

He was a sensible man and knew that at a time like this, whatever price Eric Bennett named had to be agreed to. The emperor’s safety was the absolute priority; all rescue plans were off the table. This was the emperor—there could be no risk. If a reckless rescue led to an accident, even if the emperor wasn’t killed but merely injured, it would be a capital crime for him and possibly his entire family.

Uh, he forgot that at this point Adam Cooper was already covered in wounds.

After the guards withdrew, Eric Bennett sat contentedly on the dragon throne, holding the treasured sword, its tip still pressed against Adam Cooper’s chest. He leaned on the hilt as if it were a cane. At this moment, Adam Cooper, having passed out from the searing pain of concentrated sulfuric acid splashed on his face, lay motionless at his feet. The silk of his dragon robe was just tough enough to block the sword tip, but if Eric Bennett so much as exerted a little force—or even sneezed—the sword might pierce Adam Cooper’s heart. The head of the guards, standing opposite, didn’t even dare to breathe deeply, terrified that a tremor might injure His Majesty.

“This chair is really uncomfortable!”

Eric Bennett complained to the head of the guards.

The latter gave an awkward smile—he’d never sat in it himself.

Just then, a tall, thin man in a yellow riding jacket, hand on his sword, hurried in. He looked to be of high rank. The head of the guards quickly bowed, but the newcomer ignored him and spoke directly to Eric Bennett: “Release His Majesty at once. Whatever your terms, we can agree to them.”

“Who are you?”

Eric Bennett asked in surprise.

“Grand Minister of the Imperial Guards, Henry Foster.”

The man replied.

“Uh, your rank is too low. Go get someone of higher status to talk to me. Where’s James Walker? I remember he’s still the crown prince at this time, right? Why isn’t he here? Don’t tell me he’s hiding in the back, hoping I’ll kill Brother Cooper so he can take the throne? That’s just unfilial! And where’s Emma Scott? I think she’s still alive at this point too—why isn’t she coming out? If nothing else, there’s still the empress, or Consort Yi, or that whole mess of princes. You, a chief eunuch, are nothing—what right do you have to make decisions?”

Eric Bennett said with disdain.

“His Highness the Fourth Prince has arrived!”

Suddenly, someone shouted from outside.

Wow, the Fourth Prince!

Eric Bennett looked out expectantly. A young man with a long, donkey-like face and an anxious expression hurried in, looking just over twenty. He had a queue with a rat-tail at the end—really like a mouse’s tail. This look would probably traumatize modern girls. He raised his hand to stop the guards from bowing, then walked straight up to Eric Bennett and said, “Let my royal father go. I’ll be your hostage instead.”

“Uh, swapping the emperor for a prince? Do I look like I have ‘idiot’ written on my forehead? Your father has so many sons—one more or less makes no difference. Do you know how many of your brothers are hoping you’ll die? Besides, your father is still unconscious—no one’s even watching your performance. Sure, I know you’ll probably kill them all and then strangle your father to become emperor, but right now you’re not qualified to speak! Go squat in the corner!”

Eric Bennett gestured toward the wall.

The young idol shuddered in fear. He knew that if Eric Bennett’s words got out, he’d have no hope for the rest of his life. Even though this guy had fallen from immortal to demon by kidnapping his father, he still had supernatural powers, and plenty of people would believe what he said—including his own father. If his father heard he’d kill all his brothers and commit patricide for the throne, with his temperament, he might just hand him a cup of poisoned wine.

“My royal father’s injuries…”

Fortunately, he reacted quickly, immediately pretending not to hear and putting on a look of filial piety as he spoke.

But before he could finish, Eric Bennett glared, pressed the sword tip down, and shot him a threatening look. The rest of his words died in his throat, and he obediently stood aside, brooding. Meanwhile, Adam Cooper finally regained consciousness. Seeing the situation, he instinctively tried to struggle.

“Brother Cooper, don’t move! If you do, I can’t guarantee your safety!”

Eric Bennett rudely pressed the sword tip down again as he spoke.

Adam Cooper immediately stopped moving.

“What do you want?”

He forced himself to endure the searing pain on his face, looked at Eric Bennett with the one eye he could still open, and asked hoarsely.

“First, bring over the young girl who came with me. Second, prepare a carriage for me. Third, get me a driver—but not a man, it must be a girl under twenty. Fourth, while you’re at it, prepare a few pounds of gold leaves. Fifth, put some food in the carriage. Sixth, open all the city gates. Seventh, have your people hurry up. The wounds on your face aren’t fatal, but they need to be treated quickly. If you delay and the toxins spread, not even an immortal could save you.”

Eric Bennett said.