Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 1134 - 302: Man’s Plans Are No Match for Heaven’s

Chapter 1134: Chapter 302: Man’s Plans Are No Match for Heaven’s

Gortani, clad in silver Mithril armor, stood quietly under the palm trees, with the pale moonlight cascading over her platinum blonde hair, creating a gentle ripple of light.

Her eyes were melancholic; her expression, helpless.

The spread fronds of the palm trees resembled wild ghouls’ claws flaring in anger, hiding her figure from behind as if ready to snatch her at any moment.

The Beamon elders of Feilengcui heaved a long sigh of relief; the rightful leader had finally arrived.

All the Beamon warriors held their breath, eyes bulging with curiosity as they speculated what would unfold next—whether the moment would escalate to fiery confrontation or smoothly transition to tranquility.

The varied conjectures filled them with both tension and a touch of excitement and anticipation.

"Your Highness, may we start the wedding feast now?" Mr. Jabbar, the penguin butler, stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back, elegantly addressing the Overlord.

Overlord Liu was visibly shaken he nodded, leaped up from the ground, walked over to Gortani, and roughly took the hand of the beautiful swan-like maiden. He turned to the elders and said, "Let those who need to eat, eat and those who need to drink, drink! Gortani and I will retire to our bridal chamber first."

"Leaving so soon?" Andulan, the elder, was taken aback.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized that he shouldn’t have asked.

"Would you rather I stand here and continue to dry radishes?" Liu quipped with a twisted smile, pulling Gortani away with him.

Andulan’s mouth hung open as he watched the two receding figures, sighing one after another.

The elder felt that he had sighed all the sighs of his lifetime just tonight.

The night wind scattered chaos, and locks of hair danced alone in the silence.

Along the way, neither Liu nor Gortani initiated conversation, as if an invisible barrier trapped the silence, leaving only an awkward and wordless calm.

Strings of fragrant flower garlands adorned the entire camel-skin tent, and countless shining Night Pearls leaped with myriad beams of light; as they approached, Gortani’s cold little hand began to tremble increasingly.

Liu led her past the beaming bridal chamber to another tent in the distance.

This tent was filled with the thick scent of medicinal herbs, a clay pot rested on the ground furnace, with flickering flames churning a stream of steam and herbal aroma. Joan of Arc lay on a low couch covered with animal hides, sleeping soundly, her arm as white as a lotus resting outside the blanket, her innocence unable to conceal a burst of charm.

At the sound of the curtain movement, the Mantis Monks and Qian Qian who stayed to take care of Joan of Arc all lifted their heads.

"How is she?" Liu approached and flicked a finger against the nun’s forehead.

"The arrowhead has been removed by the instructor, and the wound is not exposed to air, she’s fine," Morphy, the monk, glanced at Gortani behind his boss and continued, "We administered a sleeping potion to her; sleeping more will aid her recovery."

"Take good care of her for me," Liu said as he removed the Beryl Dragon Pearl necklace and placed it around Joan of Arc’s neck.

"Boss, if you give the Dragon Pearl to Joan of Arc, what about your recovery?" Morphy asked, mouth agape.

"Why all the nonsense?" Liu frowned disapprovingly at the monk.

"The instructor will take Joan of Arc back to Feilengcui tomorrow. You just rest assured, boss," another monk, Owen, smiled.

"Keep Joan of Arc’s ’Watcher’s Horn’ and ’Death Lord’s Shield’ safe for her," Liu said as he tucked Joan of Arc’s arm back under the blanket, then turned to the beautiful Qian Qian.

Qian Qian nodded.

"This is my sworn sister, and from tonight on, she will be your sworn sister too," Liu gestured toward the sleeping Joan of Arc and told Gortani.

Gortani nodded in a daze.

"... I’m carrying your child..." Joan of Arc suddenly murmured intermittently in her sleep.

All eyes were fixed on her.

"Joan of Arc is talking in her sleep," Qian Qian smiled.

"Next time I see Puskas, I’ll tear his mouth apart," Liu cursed bitterly, "That old man has had me worried for a long time!"

Everyone squeezed out a smile, but for some reason, they all felt unable to smile now.

"Let’s go," Liu lifted the tent flap.

Gortani mechanically followed him out.

Qian Qian and the monks exchanged glances and shrugged helplessly.

The silence was solitary once again.

At this moment, outside the main command tent, a sea of people had gathered—Feilengcui warriors on one side and Ostrit warriors led by officers on the other. Fat Luo’s bright long knife pressed against General Boban’s throat. Both sides stood in a silent standoff.

Liu, holding Gortani’s hand, walked toward the tent without a sideways glance. The crowd, bumping and stumbling, parted to create a path.

Countless pairs of eyes watched as the two figures disappeared behind the pearl curtains.

The santalum-scented room lingered with a faint trace of repression.

The red candles shed no tears.

On the side table, there lay a red-lacquered tray containing a large autumn gourd and a narrow-necked jug of wine.

Liu drew a gleaming dagger, sliced the gourd in half, and poured a full bowl of snow-white yogurt wine into each of the halves from the jug, instantly filling the room with the rich aroma of milk.

"After we drink the Heji wine, we’ll be husband and wife," Liu offered one half of the gourd bowl to Gortani, "Take it."

Gortani took the gourd bowl in a daze.