That Prince Is A Girl: The Vicious King’s Slave Mate Novel

Chapter 881 Chapter 881: Zaiper spat with so much venom, his anger bubbling over. He hated the indifference with which Daemonikai spoke of Razarr's death. And the worst part was, he couldn't do anything about it. Tears burned in his eyes. Helplessness devoured his burning limbs. "I should have killed you when I had the chance, when you were struggling with the death of your soul! I should have finished you off, damn the consequences!" Daemonikai threw his head back and laughed. That sound, so amused, made Zaiper feel bile rise in his throat.

Finally, the man took a deep breath to calm himself before raising an eyebrow. "Did you forget? You tried, but my female killed your assassin. As for not doing it yourself... well. It's another regret you'll carry to the grave, isn't it? It's going to be a full regret, Zaiper." Zaiper shuddered, trembling with rage and shame. Unwanted tears welled up again, burning his uninjured eye. "Tell me, what does it feel like knowing that Kristoff's son will sit on your throne? Did you know he was right under your nose the whole time, and you never knew?

What does it feel like knowing that our people are happy again? That the humans you manipulated, the ones you used as pawns to bear the consequences of your plans, fought for us on the night of the eclipse? They protected our youth, defending our lands when we couldn't." He leaned in. "What does it feel like to know that, once again, Naelzharoth wins?" "Stop talking!" Zaiper roared. The chains rang loudly as he pulled on them with all his strength. "Stop talking right now!" "Calm down, Zaiper," Daemonikai said. "Don't let your heart be discouraged just yet. This is only the beginning.

Your life is my price, and I would hate to lose it before I've had my fun." Zaiper panted like a rabid dog on its last legs. "Then, before we begin," Daemonikai continued indifferently, "Wegai, cut it." Your next journey starts at gⱯlnσνℓs․o The metal doors creaked, footsteps approaching. Then, the slash of a sword slicing through the chain. Zaiper collapsed like a dead weight, landing with a dull thud. Pain shot through every inch of his body as he lay there, breathing raggedly, every part of him screaming. The chains remained on his wrists, but his legs were free. . . .