บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha's Hardest Game : บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

Jake stood tall, his broad chest expanded, his golden eyes cutting through the delegation like twin suns. "State your terms, Envoy.""The Western Alliance recognizes the absolute sovereignty of Aethelgard and the High Command," Marcus stated clearly, unrolling a heavy silk parchment. "We propose a complete demilitarization of the shared buffer zones, full integration of baseline trade merchants into our regional markets, and a mutual defense pact against any lingering old-regime warlords."Avery stepped forward, her voice ringing out like a crystalline chime through the high arches. "The terms are acceptable, Envoy Marcus, provided one core mandate is strictly enforced: baseline citizens in western territories must receive equal legal protection, full access to medical research, and total freedom of movement across pack borders. The era of class subjugation ends everywhere, not just within our citadel."The western diplomats exchanged rapid, hushed glances, but Marcus didn't hesitate.

The descent into Sub-Level 7 felt like plunging directly into the forgotten burial vault of the old regime.Long before the High Command’s modern citadel was constructed over the central district, the ancient military junta led by Magnus had excavated deep into the granite bedrock beneath the university pavilion, building a sprawling labyrinth of classified research labs and automated failsafes. The air down here was thick, cold, and heavy with the stale, metallic scent of stagnant dust and unventilated machinery. Damp moisture trickled down the rough, unpolished stone walls, echoing like steady, hollow footsteps in the darkness.Jake led the way down the narrow, spiraling stone staircase, his massive frame almost filling the damp corridor. His dark tactical coat brushed against the rough masonry, his right hand resting near his hip while his left hand remained firmly locked with Avery’s.Avery walked closely behind him, her dark eyes sharp and vigilant, her light tablet glowing faint

The private trauma suite of the central citadel was plunged into a state of absolute, controlled panic. High-frequency digital heart monitors emitted agonizingly slow, rhythmic beeps that echoed off the cold steel walls with terrifying finality. Senior bio-analysts and military trauma surgeons rushed between diagnostic arrays, but every standard medical intervention—broad-spectrum antitoxins, automated blood filtration, and localized neural stimulants—proved utterly useless against the synthetic toxin of Project Zero. The engineered compound moved like a shadow through his system, systematically extinguishing his vitality.On the central gurney, Jake lay completely motionless. The monolithic High Alpha, whose very presence usually commanded whole territories and brought opposing armies to their knees, was ice-cold to the touch. His golden eyes were shut tight, his broad chest barely rising, and his inner wolf’s blazing aura had collapsed into a faint, dying ember. The color had draine

​The primary reception hall of the High Command citadel was bathed in a brilliant, warm amber radiance, illuminated by dozens of heavy crystal chandeliers and three grand floor-to-ceiling hearths that crackled with dry pine. Every high-ranking sector commander, regional ambassador, and senior liaison had gathered in formal regalia to witness a historic turning point for the continent. ​For three centuries, the central district had been defined by rigid martial order, aggressive territorial posturing, and the systemic suppression of baseline strain lineages. Tonight, however, the heavy atmosphere of the citadel had transformed into one of absolute, dignified reverence. ​At the center of the raised marble dais stood Avery, looking breathtaking in a tailored midnight-blue velvet gown with long, fitted sleeves and a subtle train. The liquid silver pendant of Aethelgard rested flush against her collarbone, its translucent crystal casting a soft, constant platinum luminescence across her

​The soft rays of mid-morning sun filtered through the canopy of ancient oak and birch trees, painting golden patterns across the rolling green hillside overlooking the river valley. Below, the bustling rooftops of the university district and the distant granite towers of the central citadel were visible on the horizon, but up here, the air was clean, quiet, and carried only the scent of pine, sweet clover, and damp earth. ​Jake stood near the center of a wide, sunlit clearing, holding a leather-bound architectural blueprint. Dressed casually in a dark fitted shirt, faded trousers, and heavy boots, his massive frame exuded a calm, relaxed presence. His golden eyes swept over the newly cleared perimeter, where timber markers had been driven into the soil to trace the foundations of a spacious, multi-story estate. ​Beside him, Avery leaned against his arm, wearing a cream knit sweater and fitted denim, her dark hair blowing gently in the spring breeze. The liquid silver pendant of Aet