Chapter 547: The Eight Bombs
Seeing it all unfold, Ethan knew Celeste was in trouble. She couldn’t reach him in Ethereal, so she must have sought out Lyla—and in doing so, stumbled across Liam. She’d helped resolve the problem, and Ethan realized why: if Liam’s explosive power was cut off, Matriarch Whitmore in the Silverwood family’s hidden territory would surely capture him alive. As long as Liam wasn’t killed, everything would remain under control.
The mark Celeste left on his arm was a message only a few could understand—besides Ethan, only Leo, Victor, and Williams would recognize it. The clue pointed to one place: Shadow Lynx Village, deep in Ravenwood. Celeste wanted to meet him there. As for why she would go to such lengths, Ethan couldn’t say.
’Looks like I’ll have to make another trip, he thought grimly.’
"Please, Lord Regis—destroy it!" Ethan turned to the old City Lord.
Regis nodded. With a flick of his finger, he touched the sealed space. Crack. Crack. Crack. A rapid series of shattering sounds filled the air. In an instant, everything inside—the volatile items, the explosive charges, even the five tons of TNT—fractured like safety glass breaking into dust, then disappeared without a trace. The air returned to stillness as though nothing had ever been there.
Lyla’s eyes widened. She was fascinated by what she had just witnessed and even more intrigued by Regis himself, wondering who he really was and why he had appeared so suddenly.
"Old City Lord, this is my girlfriend, Lyla Silverwood." Ethan noticed Regis staring curiously at her, and Lyla staring right back. He made the introduction, and Lyla, after a brief pause, called out sweetly, "Grandpa Regis."
The old man burst into hearty laughter. "Your girlfriend is a fine one. I remember the first time we met—you weren’t so polite to me back then!"
Ethan’s expression grew a little strained. "Was I? If I recall, someone was the one insisting we become sworn brothers."
Regis froze mid-laugh, his face shifting awkwardly. He jabbed a finger at Ethan. "You rascal. Trying to turn this around on me, are you? Don’t forget—you’ve still got eight bombs, don’t you?"
"Uh..." Ethan paled. Lyla didn’t know what those ’eight bombs’ meant, but he certainly did. If the old man decided to stir things up, those words could set off a chain reaction Ethan wasn’t ready for. He quickly shot Regis a pleading look.
"Hahaha... I never thought I’d see you afraid of anything!" Regis chuckled again, then wandered off to explore. The Whitmore family’s hidden territory was sparsely populated, its silence heavy, yet it brimmed with untouched beauty: rolling grass, thick groves, rivers clear enough to see fish darting beneath the surface. Regis, who had lived long enough to see countless strange things, crouched by the water with childlike excitement, watching the fish swim.
Meanwhile, Lyla’s gaze sharpened. "Ethan... are you hiding something from me?"
That single question hit him like a spear. A woman’s intuition was terrifyingly sharp. Ethan had been struggling with how to explain everything, thinking to put it off until after Ravenwood. But now, looking at Lyla’s wide eyes, every excuse evaporated. He sighed inwardly. There was no avoiding this. At least Celeste would also need time to reach Ravenwood, and with the Shatterstar mech, Ethan could get there in the blink of an eye. He could afford to talk now.
The two walked hand in hand through the quiet territory as Ethan began to recount everything that had happened over the past few days. Three days on Earth had been eight years for him in the Sea of Death. He spoke until dusk, leaving nothing out—except, of course, his ambiguous encounters with Nora Vance, Clara, and the quadruplet sisters. Those were things he would take to the grave.
Lyla listened with growing fascination. When something struck her as funny, she laughed without restraint. When tension mounted, she clutched at Ethan’s sleeve. And when he reached the battle against the Blood Clan, her eyes welled with tears for the fallen. She never held back with him—never pretended. By the end, she was seated on the riverbank, staring at the scenery in silence, her emotions stirring. Then she abruptly sprang to her feet, startling Ethan.
"Well? Why are you just standing there? Aren’t you going to let them out?" She tugged at his hand impatiently.
Ethan froze. He hadn’t even said who he had brought back.
"What’s wrong?" Lyla tilted her head, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "You didn’t bring back every woman you met, did you?"
Ethan’s face went stiff. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking. But with things at this point, he could only nod, his expression strained.
"Hmph." Lyla yanked her hand free and turned her back on him. Panic surged in Ethan. He rushed forward, ready to explain, only to see her pursing her lips with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"You..." Ethan blinked, completely thrown.
"’You’ what? My man is so outstanding that so many women like him—why wouldn’t I be happy? Do you think I’m one of those petty, jealous girls? Ethie is mine. No one can take him from me. Unless, of course, you change your mind... Am I right?" Lyla’s big eyes locked onto his, as if she could see straight through him.
Ethan nodded without hesitation.
"Good. Then let’s not waste time. I want to see what those eight women who like my Ethie look like. If they’re ugly, I won’t stand for it!" She squeezed his hand tightly.
Ethan’s jaw dropped. He hadn’t said how many there were, but of course she had pieced it together from Regis’s casual remark about the "eight bombs." She was sharper than he’d given her credit for. With no way out, he finally raised his hand, and in an instant, a crowd of people appeared before them.
"Hello, Young Mistress!" three voices chimed in unison before Ethan could even introduce them. Standing side by side were the ever-mischievous Blackie, the sly Micah, and the simple-minded Ormund, who Ethan suspected had been dragged into this by the other two.
"Hello everyone, I’m Lyla Silverwood." Lyla accepted their greeting with an elegant smile, introducing herself warmly.
Ethan noticed, however, the faint shadow crossing the faces of Nora Vance, Clara, and the quadruplet sisters. Only Dot and Astrid seemed unaffected.
Dot, who had grown nearly as tall as Nora over the years, still carried the same innocent sparkle in her eyes. She had always said she would marry Ethan someday, though Ethan doubted she even understood what that meant. He sighed in relief. Good... at least two aren’t bombs.
But the moment that thought crossed his mind, Astrid, who had been staring blankly, suddenly lifted her head. Her eyes gleamed with startling brightness, sending a chill of foreboding down Ethan’s spine.