เข้าสู่ระบบRegardless of whether Alice was ashamed or not, Jenna gave a damn. Alice struggled as she saw the woman tear the bandage off her bandaged left leg.
The temperature in the ward fell to below zero all of a sudden.
Jenna scoffed as she observed Alice's leg being watched.
“Wow, it's so terrible that not even a drop of blood is running out. If I arrived a little later, I'm worried that your ‘wound’ will totally heal.”
“Jenna! You... Rex, it's not like that... It's only that I'm feeling weak right now and will recover better with a blood transfusion.”
The man turned to look at Alice. As she frantically explained, her heart raced.
Four to five times a month, you get hurt. You're attempting to drain my blood, in my opinion. You won't have another chance like this in the future. “Jenna added in a chilly tone. Arrange for Rex to wed another fool to become your new mobile blood bank.
Jenna snorted after that and walked out of the ward without turning around.
Jenna collapsed on a bench in the hallway as she slammed the door to the ward shut, feeling depressed and as like the entire world had abandoned her.
Tears streamed down Jenna's eyes as she pulled out her phone and mumbled, "I'll try my hardest to make a call," her voice choking with exhaustion.
“Big brother….”
Only hearing her voice, the other person sighed quietly. His tone was gracious. “I'll come get you, where are you?"
A few minutes later, the unconscious woman was gently carried out of the hospital by a noble and elegant man who was in the company of a group of enigmatic men dressed in black.
With a dejected expression, Rex dragged the attending physician out of the ward. He was furious, as seen by his black eyes.
“Is this the quality of professionalism in your hospital? A serious leg injury?! Is a blood transfusion really necessary for scraped skin?”
Rex delivered a chilling performance. He felt guiltier and more intensely experienced that peculiar feeling in his heart every time he remembered Jenna's frail condition following her blood donation.
The doctor trembled and no longer dared to keep the truth from him.
"Mr. Hidalgo, we will never dare to do this again. It was Ms. Florence's command. It has nothing to do with our hospital. She said you agreed to all of the blood transfusions. Every time Ms. Jenna contributed blood, you were also there.”
‘Alice Florence Did I treat her too kindly? Just because of that picture, Jenna insisted on getting a divorce. Has she been misinformed about my friendship with Alice?’
Rex reasoned that he could simply explain it to her in that situation. Despite not feeling any passion for his wife, he had always been devoted to their union and was content with the way things were. He therefore had no problem continuing in this manner for the rest of their lives.
He had never considered getting a divorce since they got married, at least.
If Jenna wasn't happy with his connection with Alice, he may separate himself from Alice.
Rex believed that if they resolved this minor issue, their marriage would still be salvageable.
When he tried to call Jenna on her phone, it was off.
Rex drew the security who was standing at the door, his brows furrowed furiously. A little while later, the nervous bodyguard was in front of him.
"Mr. Hidalgo, the hospital's security footage was suddenly compromised ten minutes ago, and despite searching the entire facility, we are unable to locate the young madam anywhere.”
Rex scowled, even more, his thin lips curled into a tight line. He experienced an unexplainable emotion surge in his chest as he recalled Jenna signing the divorce agreement without hesitation. His deep, dark eyes had an unfathomable, impenetrable quality.
"Where can she go now that the divorce is final? She is financially disadvantaged.
His heart felt exceedingly uneasy, and the unpleasant feeling that usually dogged him became more severe at the notion of her leaving so abruptly.
"Get someone to look for her, and let me know as soon as you do."
"How could she switch off her phone in such a manner? She certainly stepped out of line! '
I agree, sir.
Rex did not want to admit that this woman, who was no longer his wife, had caused him to experience a moment of anxiety.
………………………….
The lavishly adorned room's limited-edition expensive Italian furniture felt familiar to Jenna. Her tears began to fall as soon as she opened her eyes and saw the lavish chamber that she had not seen in a while.
"This is my bedroom,"
It's simply a divorce; why are you crying? Do you believe the Anderson family won't be able to support you?
Her ears were filled with a wise and stern voice. Jenna cried even more and looked over with pained eyes.
Marcus Anderson, the fabled Chairman of the Anderson Empire, who had the power to quake New York City with the sole of his foot, was standing in Jenna's room, appearing regal and haughty.
"Dad..."
The night split open with a scream.Not from a survivor. Not from a tribesman.But from the darkness itself.The storm had swallowed half the sky, leaving the jungle drenched and trembling. Jenna hung from the ropes binding her to the wooden post, rainwater soaking through her hair and dripping into her eyes. Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat felt like it might be her last.The tribe danced in a widening frenzy, chanting toward the sky as if begging their gods to witness the slaughter.**"Vorah ka'ren! Vorah ka'ren!" (Blood of dawn! Blood of dawn!)Steeve was barely conscious beside her, shivering violently.
The ropes bit into Jenna’s wrists as the warriors dragged her across the dirt, the ritual ash still burning on her skin. The storm overhead thickened, clouds rumbling like distant war drums. She barely kept her footing as they tied her to one of the wooden posts lining the sacrificial grounds—thick beams made of weathered trunks, stained with old, dark streaks she didn’t want to identify.Steeve was bound to the post on her right, trembling uncontrollably. Lucia and the two remaining male survivors were tied to the others, forming a crooked semicircle facing the massive bonfire at the center of the village. The flames raged high, spitting sparks that drifted like fireflies.The tribe bustled around them, preparing for the night’s ritual. Warriors sharpened obsidian blades against stones. Torches were planted in a wide ring, crea
The creature—no, the man—that stepped into the torchlight looked as though he had been carved out of night itself. Taller than any warrior in the village, his shoulders were broad enough to eclipse the fires behind him, casting the survivors’ cage in deep shadow.Bones crowned his head—long, curved horns wrapped in sinew and painted black. His chest was streaked with white ash symbols, each one pulsing in the firelight like the marks of some ancient rite. He carried a spear twice Jenna’s height, its tip shaped from obsidian and something disturbingly pale.The villagers bowed.“Vor’kai… (Bone King)
Chapter 143 – Ritual PreparationThe moment the chieftain’s bone staff singled Jenna out, the atmosphere in the village shifted—like the jungle itself leaned closer to listen. The chanting died down into excited whispers, then rose again in feverish waves. Warriors pounded their chests. Women began preparing fires, dragging out carved stone bowls, ropes, and baskets woven from sinew.The ritual was beginning.Jenna forced her back straight, though pain pulsed through her ribs with every breath. Her wrists throbbed where the restraints had rubbed skin raw. But she refused to shrink back from the bars.Fear would not keep her alive.Her mind would.
The world narrowed into jagged shapes and bruising hands as Jenna and the others were shoved through the towering wooden gates. Her ribs ached, her wrists burned, her cheek throbbed from the blow she’d taken—but nothing compared to the shock that seized her lungs when she saw what waited inside.The village wasn’t a village.It was a graveyard pretending to live.Bones—large, small, human, animal—were bound into the very architecture. Ribcages served as lantern frames, skulls lined the pathways like guiding stones. Every structure had bones woven into it: huts reinforced with femurs, archways decorated with teeth, drums stretched with skin.The air stank of decay and smoke. The fires were the wrong color—too orange, flickering with an oily sheen.The warriors dragged the survivors across a clearing toward a set of towering cages. Not metal—bamboo lashed together with vines, reinforced by bones tied horizont
The world shrank to the spinning blade of the spear.Jenna saw nothing else—no fire, no jungle, no survivors—only the jagged tip slicing toward her heart.Her breath stopped. Her pulse stuttered. Her legs refused to move.Everything inside her screamed, "Move, Jenna—move!" but terror locked her joints tighter than ropes ever could.The spear cut through the firelight——and then a force slammed into her side.Impact. Pain detonated across her ribs. The world pitched sideways as she crashed into the sand, Tiara slipping from her grip with a mechanical cry.A shadow had tackled her. Steeve.The spear whistled past her ear. So close she felt the wind of it.It buried itself in the sand where her chest had been. A heartbeat slower—and she would have been dead.Jenna gasped, dragging air into her lungs. Her ribs flared with sharp agony. She tried to stand——but the jungle erupted.They came like a wave.Dozens of warriors burst from the treeline with bone-tipped spears, obsidian knives, and







