Chapter 67: Driven by Madness

Chapter 67: Driven by MadnessPING PANG The repeated clashing of iron echoed inside a vast underground basement. Shirtless men moved with precision as they struck metal. The heat was unbearable—so intense that wearing a shirt was forbidden. There was a ninety percent chance that anyone who did would get burned to death. The men wore thin cloths only to cover their manhood; they were trying to craft an ironhead, not lose their manhood in the process. An axe slammed into a large stainless carriage. Unlike regular carriages, this one was made entirely of steel—that was what made it different. Sparks flew as the steel axe came into contact with the ironhead. It had been months in the making, and finally, the process was nearing completion. Nearby, another man held a round steel ball filled with poisonous coal as he filled it into the iron carriage. The entire place was alive with activity. Not far away, inside a carriage heading toward the site, sat King Vrazen. His legs were crossed as he calmly read a newspaper, scanning the latest headlines. He gently closed the paper while his personal royal guard—seated across from him looked visibly uneasy. "Y-Your Majesty... you want to go inside that place? But it’s dangerous," he said, worry written all over his face. Vrazen’s lips curled into a smirk as he dropped the newspaper to his side. The carriage shook slightly as it moved along the stony path toward the underground location. "And why are you worried, Amos? Remember, this is what I like—danger. So save the worry for your future wife," he said quietly. Amos’s eyes opened. "I understand what you mean... but that invention underground meaning you will have to..." He scratched his neck nervously, unsure how to phrase the next part. "You’ll have to remove your clothes," he said quickly. Vrazen chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "And what’s the problem there? We’re men. It’s not like going in naked will change anything. So quit acting like a child... or are you not straight?" he asked, raising a brow. Amos’s eyes widened, his face flushing as he scratched his hair. "N-No, no, Your Highness," he replied quickly. Vrazen nodded, picked up the newspaper again, and spoke. "Then there’s no problem. Or would the heat in there turn you on? I want to see the invention. I need to know what those scumbags have been taking months to finally finish." "No problem, Your Majesty," Amos said with a bow. Vrazen clicked his tongue. "How many inventions have been made?" he asked flatly. Amos sat upright. "There were originally fourteen. But calculating based on the main ones—twelve. The thirteenth was the one used to create the infection that makes werewolves crave blood. You said not to count that one because it was mainly for experimentation. The fourteenth is the ironhead—the one we’re heading to see right now. It wasn’t added to the main twelve because those were meant for tweaking the Alpha King. The fourteenth is purely for mass killing, as you instructed." "Very good, Amos," Vrazen said. His cold voice rang with a hint of approval. "You know exactly what I want. The werewolves becoming extinct... I will make sure of it. The only thing I want to sniff on the day of the war is their ashes as the wind blows my hair to the side." He paused and rested his chin on his hand. "Why else do you think I’m saving this hair for victory? But before the war starts, I will need to get that senerp." Those words echoed in Amos’s mind. Even though they weren’t directed at him, a cold chill struck through his skull. Was the king truly doing all of this because of his lover? Could love really drive a person to such madness? He was beginning to have second thoughts. Could he even love? What if he ended up like His Majesty? But... was that even possible? His Majesty was unmatchable. The carriage came to a stop as Vrazen finally looked out the window. The sky was bright, but no doubt it would darken soon—thick smoke rose steadily through the hole in the ground. The door opened, and Amos stepped out first. Vrazen followed, his boots touching the stony earth. He paused for a moment, scanning the area. The land stretched wide and empty. No trees, no houses—just open space. They had deliberately kept it this way to prevent any chance of a fire outbreak. ’Smart move,’ Amos thought silently. ’Maybe this man isn’t as stone-hearted as I thought.’ "Why are you standing there like a madman?" Vrazen’s voice snapped. ’I take that back,’ Amos said inwardly. ’This man really is a stone heart.’ Vrazen moved ahead, raising his silver hair and swiftly tying it into a bun. The effortless grace in how he did it could swoon anyone. He was the definition of a Greek god—powerful, captivating, and terrifying in his brutality. They walked until they reached the center of the empty stone field. At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. If someone stumbled upon it, they’d think it was just a normal open space. No one was allowed here, and warning poles stood as a barrier. But why was such a large, ordinary-looking space banned? Was it because of the smoke that occasionally seeped through the center? No one would suspect that beneath this place lay something far more dangerous. Vrazen moved forward and began to undress. "Uhh, Your Highness, there’s no place to keep your clothes—" "Nonsense, Amos. I have no problem with that," Vrazen said, continuing to strip. "Are you going to stand there and watch me like a hungry whore—or undress as well?" his voice rang out sharply. Amos jolted back to life. He had frozen not out of disrespect, but because he hadn’t expected the king to be so unbothered by it all. He nodded and began to undress. Vrazen’s cold voice cut through the air. "I hope you’re wearing underwear. We wouldn’t want you scaring the birds," he said. Amos’s eyes widened in horror. Did His Majesty just say that? This man needed to stop embarrassing him. Undressing here was already more than enough. Once he was done, Vrazen turned his dark gaze toward him. Amos cleared his throat. "Your Highness, may we proceed...?" he asked, only to be interrupted by Vrazen’s cold laughter. Embarrassment surged through Amos. "So all this stupid hesitation was because of your big navel?" Vrazen asked, his tone mocking. Though he laughed, his eyes remained dead—lifeless since the day his wife’s body lay unmoving. ’This is what I was avoiding. Oh heavens, why?’ Amos screamed inwardly. Still, this wasn’t even as bad as what the royal guards did to him back at the palace. Sometimes, they compared his navel to the meat served in the dining hall. ’Even Amos’s navel is bigger than this meat,’ they’d joke, bursting into laughter. He was used to it. But the truth was, it wasn’t as big as they made it seem. "At least I have six-packs," he muttered to himself. "What was that, Amos?" Vrazen asked. His hair was now tied neatly into a high bun. His well-toned muscles stood firm beneath his bronze skin, which glinted under the sun. He truly looked like a god. "I said it will take six parts... like steps... to reach," Amos lied quickly. Vrazen began walking. Amos sighed in relief—that was a close one. They moved forward as Amos bent slightly and pushed open a wooden ceiling panel. The trapdoor creaked open, and the moment it did, a hot wave of air slapped his face. He shut his eyes as they watered from the dry heat. A staircase stretched downward, carved into the ground. It was so deep, Amos gulped at the sight. He knew they could even roast chicken in here. "Go in," Vrazen ordered. Amos’s eyes widened. ’Of course, I’m the guinea pig.’ He nodded, inhaled deeply, and prepared himself. It felt like walking into the heart of an ocean—but worse. Here, it wasn’t water that wrapped your body, but torturous heat. He lowered himself and began to descend the stairs. Candlelight flickered from wall-mounted holders, casting dim light. The deeper they went, the more the covered candle holders made sense—without them, it would be pitch black. "I thought you said it was six parts. This is more than six," Vrazen’s chilling voice echoed behind him. Each "part" referred to short walking breaks before continuing the descent. Chills ran down Amos’s back. "An additional six will be needed, Your Highness." "Thank your stars we’re underground," Vrazen said flatly. He didn’t need to say more—Amos knew exactly what that meant. The deeper they went, the hotter it got. Amos’s skin began to itch with heat. He slowed slightly, only to remember that Vrazen was behind him. Quickly, he picked up his pace. Vrazen walked without expression. Finally, they reached the base. Both of them were glistening with sweat. Amos panted softly, his eyes widening at the sight before them. The clanging of metal echoed through the enormous underground chamber. Different stations were active—each one dedicated to a separate invention. Shirtless, bulky men worked with strict precision. Then, a bald man approached them. "Oh my... did the heat take his hair too?" Amos thought to himself, almost stifling a laugh. But the amusement died in his throat when he saw Vrazen’s eyes on him. The king had heard. Amos’s body turned rigid as fear slipped into his expression. The man bowed. "Greetings, Your Majesty. The ironhead is ready." Vrazen’s lips curled into a slow, predatory grin. "And the destruction seeds are ready as well," the man added, pulling out a small bottle filled with black, pebble-like seeds. "This seed can make the Alpha King lose his wolf," he said. Vrazen took the bottle, examining it carefully. His eyes mirrored the darkness of the seed, a dangerous glint flickering within. "We just need Alpha Zavren’s blood to confirm it," the man finished. Vrazen’s grin widened. "That is not a problem."