"What do you mean my son still hasn't been found?! It's been two days, and the distance between my estate and the royal capital is a one-day journey! He had five grandmaster cultivators with him, and you're telling me he just vanished?!" Flint Larson yelled, slamming his fist on his desk.
"M-My Lord, his carriage has been found, and there were traces of a battle. Blood was everywhere. Fortunately, the Young Master and Buck's bodies haven't been found, meaning that they're most likely alive." A servant said, hoping to quell Flint's anger.
"That doesn't mean shit! It could mean that they were killed somewhere else! Find me their bodies now!"
"Y-Yes, my Lord!" The servant bowed, scurrying out of the room.
"Fuck! God Dammit!" Flint swiped all the content on his desk to the floor. How could his son, whom he loved more than anything, go missing and be presumed dead? He made sure he could train and hire the best people to watch over him.
