Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2418 Worse Than Death

Chapter 2418  Worse Than Death

Date: Unspecified Time: Unspecified Location: Myriad Realms, Yellow Plains, Freedom Fighter's headquarters. "What's the meaning of this?" Sansa asked, her voice finally cutting through the tangle of thoughts that had consumed her—thoughts of how to convince Wyatt and the others to accept her as one of them. It was only now, as the realization settled, that she noticed she was alone with him. She had watched the others leave earlier, but the weight of that fact only just clicked.

She knew why Wyatt was so at ease. Having experienced his celestial blood rule domain firsthand, she understood his confidence. And, of course, she had told him about the promise she made to Baylor—not to harm him. But still… leaving their leader alone with her? That was a reckless move on the Freedom Fighter's part. He was the only one standing between her and what she wanted.

Sansa had promised not to kill him or be the reason for his death. But that didn't mean she couldn't do anything else to him. He should have known that. As sharp as he was, surely he realized that if given the chance, she would try to turn him into one of her pawns. Right?

Her lips curled into an unconscious grin.

"Could you be less obvious?" Wyatt drawled, his gaze steady on her. He had caught it—the subtle smirk, the flicker of intention in her eyes. Shifting in his chair, he spread his legs slightly, settling in, making himself comfortable. The way he looked at her, it wasn't casual—it was calculated. Like a predator watching its prey.

Sansa's grin vanished in an instant, replaced by a dark, wrathful grimace. Enough of this. She had no intention of wasting her breath on him. She moved to summon her grimoire—only to realize she couldn't.

A chill crawled down her spine.

The true extent of Wyatt's celestial blood rule domain hit her like a crashing wave. Her breath caught as she stared at him, the full realization sinking in: She had lost.

Not now. Not at this moment.

She had lost the second Wyatt stepped into the room.

She had heard the myths about celestial rule domains before, but this was beyond the myths about them. It was terrifying.

"Any last words?" Wyatt asked, his patience wearing thin. He had no desire to drag this out any longer—he just wanted to get back to Delia and help her settle the Freedom Fighters into their new home.

"Wait! I still have Ned—we can talk this out," Sansa blurted, desperation creeping into her voice. She was planning to use Ned as leverage, but to her shock, Wyatt only grinned hearing her bring him up.

"Thank you for taking him out of the picture for me," he said smoothly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to take over the Freedom Fighters so easily—and for a bargain at that. If you were to release him now, I'd just kill him, claiming he was brainwashed by you. So, do me another favor, will you? Finish the job when you're reborn from your memory womb."

He wasn't bluffing.

The truth was, Ned had been the only real obstacle preventing Wyatt from getting Henricks to hand over the Freedom Fighters—even at their lowest point. Of course, Wyatt's offer to them wasn't tempting enough on its own, but that was beside the point.

Ned's disappearance at such a critical, do-or-die moment had been the final straw. If he had been there—even without a game-changing plan—the Freedom Fighters wouldn't have been this desperate. His presence alone would have kept them from making rash decisions.

Sansa had thought she was being clever when she had Ned kidnapped, but she had miscalculated. Badly. She hadn't accounted for just how many options the Freedom Fighters really had. More importantly, she hadn't grasped the full extent of Wyatt's growth.

She had assumed he was just a genius kid with too much money—a cash cow for the Southern Royal Family. Had she known then what she knew now, maybe she would have moved faster. Maybe she would have played this differently.

"Wait, how do you know about that?" Sansa asked, her voice laced with shock.

She had never truly feared how her current situation shaped as she was no longer afraid of Death. After becoming a demigod thanks to her origin card, the concept of mortality had lost all weight. That was why she had dared to march into the Freedom Fighters' den in Yellow Plains so recklessly in the first place. But now, realizing that Wyatt not only knew she was unkillable but still intended to destroy this iteration of her—burning the branch she had extended to him out of love for Baylor—rattled her.

It didn't just shock her. It wounded her pride.

Wyatt's lips curled into a wide grin. "I knew it before you did," he said casually, then, almost as if he genuinely cared, he added, "Just go back to your burrow and live out your numbered days in that sham of a marriage. Consider that my compensation for helping me acquire the Freedom Fighters."

Sansa's brows furrowed. His words confused her—what was he getting at? But when she registered his insult toward her marriage, everything else faded. Her hands clenched into fists, and her eyes darkened with raw fury.

She wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of killing her even if its just one of her froms. If this memory of her was doomed anyway, she would at least be the one to end it.

But when she tried to excite her divinity into self-destruction, nothing happened.

A chill crawled up her spine.

She couldn't move. She couldn't even die on her own terms.

Wyatt let out a knowing chuckle, saying, "Oh no, you don't get to leave that easily." His voice was almost amused, but his eyes held something far colder.

With a flick of his wrist, the table between them crumbled into ash, erased by his celestial blood rule, as he ordered her, "Get up."

Sansa fought against it with everything she had, but her body betrayed her. Against her will, she rose from her seat. Terror began to spread in her mind as the realization that something worse than death was coming dawned on her.

Wyatt pointed at the ground before him, demanding with a unforgiving voice, "Kneel."

Sansa's breath hitched as her legs moved on their own, carrying her forward until she was on her knees before him, just inches from where he sat. Right by his spread legs. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

She had underestimated him.

And now, she was utterly at his mercy.