Chapter 430

Isolde let out a soft sigh. “I never imagined that a senior would be so stubborn. I even prepared a few special dishes to share with you, hoping we could enjoy a drink together and discuss martial arts.”

Ruben sneered. “The imperial cuisine? What’s so great about that? The thing I despise most in life is those cold, tasteless dishes from the palace kitchen.”

Isolde paused in surprise. Was he used to the royal chefs’ food? Could he have come from the palace? She didn’t really understand what the royal kitchen was about, but she thought it must be the best food in the world. She had no idea that Ruben would dismiss it like this. She tried to think back to the best meal she’d ever had, but her culinary expectations were never high. Back in the manor, Penny had taught her to make ravioli, which was the best dish she had ever tasted. But she knew that a person who had tasted all the finest delicacies of the world wouldn’t care for such things.

As for Ruben’s three obsessions—martial arts, women, and food—he was clearly uninterested in her appearance, and food was off the table. It was quite a frustrating puzzle for her.

“Will you talk or not?” Ruben demanded.

Isolde remembered what Oliver had said about his martial arts being on par with his own, so she should be able to last a while against him. To engage a martial arts enthusiast like him, she had to catch his attention with her moves.

Without waiting for him to strike, she acted first. With a quick motion, she drew her whip and lashed it into the air. Ruben leapt effortlessly into the air, dodging it with ease. His expression shifted, now filled with fury. He snapped, “You dare act so recklessly on Venton Mount? It seems that woman sent you here.”

He raised his hand, and a fierce gust of wind followed, heading straight for Isolde’s chest. She staggered back, barely managing to dodge, as the sheer force of the attack almost left her breathless. Surprised by the power behind his internal energy, Isolde quickly retreated, but before she could regain her balance, Ruben’s sword was already drawn, aiming straight for her forehead.

Isolde’s whip lashed out again, curling around his sword, but it didn’t budge. She swiftly leapt into the air, using his sword as a stepping stone to fly-kick him. Her speed was fast, and her strikes brutal, as she aimed to take him down quickly, employing every ruthless move to finish him off.

Ruben, who had initially expected the usual flowery moves from a woman, was intrigued by her raw, unorthodox fighting style. Most women, he thought, would rely on decorative techniques, but Isolde had no hesitation. Her strikes were aggressive, forcing him to slow down and test her strength.

For over a hundred moves, Isolde continued to press him, her breaths growing heavier, but Ruben still seemed to be in control. She realized that she couldn’t continue much longer; she needed to create an opening. Deciding that now was the right moment, she retreated, landing lightly on the ground and raising her hand.

“Stop,” she said, panting.

Ruben chuckled darkly. “Done already? I was just getting into the fight.”

“I’m no match for you. I admit defeat,” Isolde said, breathless.

Ruben sheathed his sword and looked at her, his gaze less cold now. “You’ve lasted over a hundred moves. You’re no amateur. Have you fought before?”

Isolde froze. “How did you know?”

“Your moves,” Ruben replied simply, his voice softer. “Tell me, why are you here on Venton Mount? Don’t lie, or I’ll send you down the mountain.”

Isolde realized she could no longer lie. “The truth is, my grandmother is seriously ill. Only your Crimson Serpent’s blood can save her. That’s why I came to disturb you, though I made up the part about Rosemary sending me.”

“Crimson Serpent?” Ruben’s eyes fixed on her, hard. “Did anyone tell you that getting the Crimson Serpent’s blood could cost you your life?”

“I know.”

“Then why come?” Ruben asked, clearly surprised. He suddenly paused and then asked, “Your grandmother? You’re Prunella’s daughter. So, your grandmother is Garrett’s wife?”

“Yes,” Isolde replied.

“She… is she really that sick?”

Isolde’s voice was heavy as she nodded. “The doctor said, without the Crimson Serpent’s blood, she might not survive till tomorrow.”

Ruben fell silent for a moment, then said quietly, “The Crimson Serpent’s blood is not easy to obtain. Even I can’t get it. Go back. Don’t risk your life.”

Isolde didn’t want to give up. “I’ve come this far, and I won’t leave without trying. I beg you, please save my grandmother.”

Her stubbornness showed, and Ruben sighed, clearly moved, though he still shook his head. “Go back. It’s impossible. No one can tame the Crimson Serpent.”

Isolde felt a surge of desperation. She grabbed his arm, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t have many relatives left. My mother passed away young, and my father just died recently. I can’t let my grandmother go too. Even if there’s only a small chance, I won’t give up.”

Ruben seemed touched by her determination, but still, he shook his head. “You should be grateful that I’m sparing your life. You should go back. It’s impossible.”

Isolde, feeling desperate, said, “Didn’t you hate my mother? Didn’t you despise Rosemary? If that’s the case, why pity my life? Let me face the Crimson Serpent. Let it kill me—it’ll be just what you want.”

Ruben’s expression was calm. “Your tricks won’t work on me. I separate my personal grudges from what’s at hand. You’re a skilled general, one of the rare female warriors of the Eryndral Empire. I pity your life, and you should be grateful. Go back now, don’t argue.”

Isolde watched as the snakes around him slithered away, and Ruben, with a light step, disappeared into the snowy expanse of the mountain. She screamed, “Ruben come back! Ruben!”

She ran after him, shouting, but the mountain seemed endless. Despite encountering numerous snakes, they didn’t attack—perhaps intimidated by her desperation or the scent of the powder she carried. She ran for almost half an hour but didn’t see any sign of Ruben, let alone the house.

Night had fallen, and the mountain was blanketed in darkness. She collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by the crushing sense of helplessness, and began to sob uncontrollably.