His power was beyond comprehension. He was also an exceedingly talented doctor. She had never, in her wildest nightmares, imagined James would gain such a terrifying identity.

It was no wonder the Blithe King did nothing when Trent was killed. The Black Dragon, a being even the Blithe King could not touch, was Trent's killer.

Charles only calmed down when James left. His entire body was drenched in sweat. He trembled again at the sight of the wound-laden Rowena, turning away to run.

“Don’t… don’t go! S-save me! Send me to the hospital… I… I have money, I’ll pay you.” Earlier, Rowena had wanted to die, but now that James was gone, her will to live had returned.

Charles stopped at the mention of money. He weighed his options. James had said he would leave Rowena alive. If he left her to die, he would have nowhere to run if James blamed him. Besides, saving Rowena meant money.

With that in mind, he called the emergency hotline.

Meanwhile, James put his mask back on as he left Rowena's villa. He then visited the Frasiers', the Zimmermans', and the Wilsons' homes.

At the Caden Mausoleum, in front of Thomas Caden's grave, three bloodied heads lay before the tombstone. James knelt.

“Grandfather, Warren Xavier, Yves Frasier, Jacob Zimmerman, and Desmond Wilson are dead. Everyone who set fire to our home is dead. But… forgive me. I was unable to locate Moonlit Flowers on Cliffside’s Edge. Don’t worry, though. I’ll definitely get it back. The main culprits may be dead, but I won’t let The Great Four escape so easily. I’ll show them true despair. I’ll make their lives a living hell. I’ll torture them to death to avenge our family.” Kneeling before Thomas’s grave, James sobbed openly.

He was the Black Dragon of the Southern Plains, yet even facing countless troops, he had never shed a tear. Men didn't cry when they bled. But at this moment, he cried openly, loudly. He may have been the almighty Black Dragon, with unparalleled strength, but no one knew what he had endured in the past ten years.

Ten years ago, he was scorched by fire. He witnessed his loved ones wailing in agony, their desperate cries and expressions seared into his mind. However, just as he was about to succumb to despair, a girl with a ponytail rushed in, undid his bindings, and saved him from the fire, disregarding her own safety. After they escaped the burning estate, he jumped into a river, ignoring the girl, even though she was also burning.

He had been consumed by guilt for ten years. He blamed himself. Fueled by hatred, he rose from a lowly soldier to become the Black Dragon. His enemies were dead, but the hatred in his heart remained. The Great Four had sinned; they had to be punished. Moreover, Rowena had revealed that the mastermind behind his family's downfall was someone in the Capital. They had killed his family to obtain Moonlit Flowers on Cliffside’s Edge. He clenched his fists.

“I don’t care who took the painting, Grandfather, but I promise you I will have his head before you as tribute.” Ten years of pain and torment culminated in tears streaking down his face.