Breaking Point (Last Life Book #10): A Progression Fantasy Series by Alexey Osadchuk

Author:Alexey Osadchuk [Osadchuk, Alexey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Magic Dome Books
Published: 2026-01-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Herouxville

The Duke de Bauffremont’s Palace

MIDDAY WAS GRAY. The sky was cast in a single, solid sheet of lead, as though a massive lid had been laid down across the entire capital, leaving only the dimmest portion of sunlight to slide lazily across the facades.

The frost still had the cobblestones in its grip; the dry, cold air tickled one’s nostrils, and smelled strongly of the coal dust that was pouring out of the chimneys.

The parade entrance of the de Bauffremont Palace was spotlessly clean: not a scrap of litter, not a single piece of straw... Even the black ravens perched on the branches of the nearby trees, waiting for something to eat, were frozen in place, as if they couldn’t bear to disturb the ideal tidiness of the area.

Presently, the silence was broken by a heavy, rhythmic clattering sound as a heavy carriage turned toward the gates, its side panels polished to a gleam. The sigil on the doors had been covered with black silk, but anyone would have recognized the horses: four mistrals, all black as night, with powerful necks and glistening flanks. The steam billowing out from their equine noses rose immediately up into the air, generating clouds of milk-white fog. The four-legged beauties were hot from the road, and they snorted in dissatisfaction as it became clear they would soon have to stop. It was clear to all around that they’d have preferred to burst into a gallop.

The carriage was accompanied by six riders, all wearing the same military cloaks. The swords beneath the fabric threw off their otherwise-perfect symmetry. Behind them came four more soldiers, all on foot, whose polished bronze sword hilts jutted out from beneath their cloaks in a silent warning: keep your distance.

The gatekeepers were already opening the gates, bending their heads in salutation; a hoarse shout from the driver brought the mistrals to an immediate halt, and their hooves clattered over the frozen stone one final time. Servants jumped into action, quickly opening the carriage doors and throwing down the small set of folding stairs at their base.

Out of the carriage stepped a stranger, wearing a long, black cloak. His features were concealed in the shadow of a deep hood, but once his gloves were off, the eye was immediately drawn to the heavy golden rings on his fingers. They were positively dripping with gemstones. The stranger’s hands quickly flashed through the air, then disappeared into folds of fabric. It was the briefest of motions, but it would have been enough for an attentive observer to realize one thing: the stones were far too rare and massive to belong to a mere Count or Baron.

The guest cast a fleeting glance around the courtyard. There wasn’t so much as a snowflake on the main staircase — no mean feat on the part of the servants, considering the snowstorm that had raged all night and into the morning. The lanterns, the bronze railings, and the doorhandles had already been polished to a mirror-like sheen.

These

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