Possessed Wolfless: From Rejected to Vengeful Lycans' Queen-Chapter 88: The Clown Gods

"That’s not important. And what you know about me right now is the only thing you need to know. I just want us to be allies here, without too much drama."

"And why should I go along with that?"

"You don’t need six red cards anyway."

The tension between them chilled the air, colder than the cheese caves on her ranch.

Lethia found herself irritated by how calm Thania was, yet secretly thrilled to face such a sharp opponent. Well, she wouldn’t be president of a fan club if her brain were any smaller than a bird’s.

"I could just take five and return the one to squad B3. It’s theirs to begin with."

"And start another six-hour game? If you hold onto the other one until the guard’s floor opens, they’ll decide who gets that card, since you’re in surplus." Lethia raised her voice, though still restraining herself.

She tried her best not to let her emotions show, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold it in.

"That’s not my problem, is it?" Thania teased, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"So why waste your time here if you don’t plan on forming an alliance with my squad?" Lethia snapped, her frown deepening.

"Because I’m curious... what kind of woman could get my sister all riled up like that?"

"Your sister? Do I know her?" Lethia blinked, a brief flicker of surprise crossing her face.

"Maybe... you’ll meet her soon enough." Thania stood from her chair, but after a moment, paused, turning back. "Ah, to make it easier for you to meet her, here’s the fastest way." She tossed a red card towards Lethia, who scrambled to catch it before it fell. Annoyed, she scowled and glared back at Thania.

A sly, deliberate smirk tugged at the corner of Thania’s lips, making Lethia shiver. She wanted to ask more, but Thania’s steps were faster than her voice, which caught in her throat as the enemy-turned allies quickly disappeared behind the door.

Lethia trudged up to the fifth floor, her mind swirling with Thania’s words about her sister.

Who was she talking about? Lethia was certain she didn’t know anyone in Ashenhold, apart from the Tuffin family, her new doctor, and her current friends.

She glanced at the red card in her hand, a bitter smile forming on her lips.

Nothing in this world came without a price, and she was fed up with all the surprises that kept popping up in her life lately.

’Whatever... let’s go back and forth to hell if needed.’ As long as she could achieve what she desired, she’d gladly do anything.

On the fifth floor, her teammates showed expressions of relief at Lethia’s success in getting the red card.

"Is that easy? That bitchy Thania just gave in like that?" Chasey asked in disbelief.

"What’s your deal with her?" the rational Adam asked.

"Just..." Lethia paused, thinking for a moment, "She just wants this to end without hassle." Lethia was amazed at how many lies she had already told.

But the look in her teammates’ eyes told her they weren’t buying that explanation.

"She..." Lethia took a deep breath, "You know, it just happens I have something she doesn’t. So yeah, it’s a private deal between us that no one else should know about.

And that’s not important. The important thing is that we now have five red cards in hand, and we just need to wait for the sixth floor to open."

No one questioned Lethia after she said that, except for Chasey, who immediately approached her and whispered if the "private deal" she mentioned had something to do with Caelum.

Lethia simply smirked, nodding, and let Chasey ramble, speculating wildly about the deal she’d made.

Kriiinnngg!

The loud ringing of the bell signaled that the sixth floor was now open. Lethia and her team quickly made their way to the sixth floor to ask the guards for a blue card so they could revive their dead teammates.

To her surprise, it wasn’t just her team and Thania’s. Squad B3 was there too, and every single member of theirs was dead. Lethia had a bad feeling about it.

"So, this is how the battle ended? Not bad..." One of the three guards spoke.

They wore face masks with the lips painted black, stretching into a grin from ear to ear. The eyes were sunken, and the smug expressions of the mask seemed to mock anyone who looked at them.

There were no name tags or distinguishing marks, and their voices all had the same filter, like they used pitch correction, making them sound identical.

"Now, for the blue card, according to the rules, only teams with living members are eligible to ask for the blue card to revive their dead teammates. So... three alive from B2 and two alive from B1. Surprisingly, the two have five red cards each. Wow... I bet you’ve all had an easy ride these past 17 hours."

One of the guards’ words sparked discomfort and disgust in the members of both teams.

"We’ve already placed the 10 blue cards around the building, matching the number of those dead. So here’s the deal. For the living members, you can go find as many blue cards as you want. And with them, you can come back and revive anyone you desire."

"Wait, what do you mean by ’anyone we desire’? We already have teammates who need it—"

"AND..." The guard half-shouted, cutting off Adam’s question. "The five of you who are still alive can form a new team by stealing red cards from each other. Well, if you’re loyal enough and satisfied with your current teammates, you don’t have to bother stealing red cards. We’ll divide the red cards based on your current life bar."

The murmurs of disappointment rippled through the hall. This sixth floor didn’t have office rooms; it was just one vast open space with two elegant staircases at each corner leading up to the penthouse.

Various protests were raised by teams B1 and B2, but the guards ignored them. On this floor, their rules were law—they were like gods. A perfect, clownish version of the gods.