Card Apprentice Daily Log

Chapter 2419 Sansa's Horror

Chapter 2419  Sansa's Horror

Date: Unspecified Time: Unspecified Location: Myriad Realms, Yellow Plains, Freedom Fighter's headquarters. "What's the meaning of this?" Sansa gasped in horror as her gaze unwillingly locked with Wyatt's crotch.

Panic surged through her as she tried—willed—her body to move, to break free from whatever force held her captive. But it was useless. She was a prisoner in her own flesh, unable to so much as avert her eyes from Wyatt's groin. She couldn't even blink. Her body was no longer hers to command—except for her jaw and tongue. Everything else was frozen, locked in a nightmare where she had no control.

Yet, she could feel everything. Every strand of hair on her arms standing on end, every bead of sweat rolling down her skin, every erratic thump of her terrified heart. Her senses remained sharp, cruelly forcing her to endure whatever horror Wyatt had in store for her.

Her mind raced to the darkest corners of possibility. Was this what he wanted? To hear her groan and moan as he— No. No, she couldn't even finish the thought without the bile rising in her throat.

Baylor...

Her chest tightened as dread swallowed her whole. The chastity she had vowed to save for her one true love—her Baylor—was at risk of being stolen, and ruined before their long-awaited honeymoon. Worse of it all, Wyatt was forcing fake Baylor to watch. It was as if her worst fears began to materialise with the words 'There are things worse than death' echoing in her mind like a cruel prophecy.

Wyatt leaned forward from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. His fingers coiled into her hair, yanking her head up to meet his gaze.

Sansa's breath hitched as she stared into his eyes—cold, unreadable, merciless. Then he grinned. The sight of it sent a shiver so deep down her spine that she swore she felt it in her soul.

At that moment, she no longer cared that her scalp hurt or the way he was treating her. She no longer cared about anything else. She just wanted him to give her death without humiliating her, without stealing the most precious gift she was saving for her one true love.

This was the second time she had felt this weak and helpless. The first was when her father left her to fend for herself in this world. That day, she swore—never again. And yet, here she was. Again. At her lowest.

Her eyes welled up, turning red and glossy before tears spilled freely down her cheeks. She choked back a sob, her voice barely above a whisper as she pleaded, "Please… don't. Anything but this…"

She broke down, sobbing like a lost child, her desperation so raw and unguarded that it actually gave Wyatt pause.

He narrowed his eyes. Was this another one of her tricks? A ploy to win his sympathy? He doubted her sincerity, but the way her body trembled, the sheer terror in her gaze—it felt real. Not that it mattered. He had no intention of consoling her. No pity. No mercy. He was merely curious.

Then, slowly, his grin widened thinking, 'Damn, that worked even better than I thought.'

He had manipulated her posture—had her kneel before him, forced her eyes onto his spread legs, planted the idea in her mind. He hadn't said a word, yet she had jumped to the worst conclusion all on her own. Perfect.

Not dwelling on it, he leaned in slightly and asked, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?"

Sansa's sobs hitched. She froze, her teary gaze locking onto his. But before she could speak, his expression darkened.

"You have one chance," he warned. "So if I were you, I'd think real hard before answering."

Her mind raced. She wasn't foolish enough to think she could beg her way out of this. No, she had to give him something—leverage.

"I can provide you with all the information you need on the Emissary of Light," she blurted out. "And… I can help you kill him."

Earlier, when he had asked nicely, she had been so damn stubborn—negotiating, withholding, refusing to share what she knew. But now? Now she was ready to talk. Funny how quickly people changed when they thought they had no other choice.

"Good," Wyatt said, his gaze sharpening as he finally heard the words he'd been waiting for. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he released her hair, granting her control over her upper body. Not that it mattered—she wouldn't dare attack him. In his Celestial Blood Fate Domain, anyone with blood flowing through their veins was at his mercy. Unless they had a stronger comprehension of the blood rule than him, they had no choice but to bend to his will.

"Great. Let's put it in writing," Without hesitation, Wyatt summoned his grimoire—his demon codex—and materialized a Demon Merchant Contract, passing it to her. If she was going to make a deal, she was going to be bound to it. No loopholes, no escape.

"A… demon contract?" Sansa's voice trembled as she took the grimoire, her eyes widening in disbelief. The eerie, familiar sigils on the page sent a chill down her spine, it was same contract as Gideon Grim had her sign. She finally saw the missing piece. The connection between Wyatt's abnormal strength and the infamous Gideon Grim clicked into place. They shared a similar secret. "Just sign it already," Wyatt said, his patience wearing thin as he watched her carefully scrutinize the document—again. "If I wanted something more from you, I wouldn't need a contract to get it. It is just a formality for your peace of mind."

Still, Sansa wasn't about to be reckless. She had underestimated him before, and she wasn't about to make that mistake twice.

Her fingers tightened around the grimoire as she read every clause, every word, over and over. She knew men like Wyatt—tricksters, manipulators, deceivers. If there was even a hint of cleverly disguised wording, she'd catch it. Only when she was absolutely sure there was no hidden trap did she finally sign it.

She was willing to see through this because, in her mind, this contract ensured her safety—at least until the Emissary of Light was dead.

Wyatt's smirk widened slightly.

Seeing her sign Wyatt recalled his grimoire and the Celestial Blood Fate Domain with a casual thought.

"You guys are free to go now," he said with a casual and indifferent tone. But the smirk on his lips remained as he wait to see her reaction after again her freedom. The fake Baylor reverted to his original form regaining his freedom. He waited for his liege's orders while Sansa spun around and used her haunting memory to behead him. The latter head rolled on floor with his eyes wide open in shock.