"Young master, time's up, the tide is about to rise."
With the tide coming in, the main castle would be completely submerged in water.
Moreover, the battle was fierce, and Wayne Bailey's reinforcements were becoming increasingly abundant. They couldn't hold out much longer—all would be lost.
Locke stood on the top level, looking through binoculars at the distance. Wayne Bailey's men had surrounded the castle, if they wasted any more time, nobody would get out.
"Young master, the bodyguards we sent to kill have all been frozen into corpses. When fished out, they're like blocks of ice."
The frozen bodyguards were carried before Maxwell Cameron one by one, their poses bizarre and limbs stiffened.
"I presume Mr. Bailey, in this extreme cold, is also more unlucky than not."
Maxwell Cameron sat with one leg crossed over the other, one hand propping up his chin, his eyes cold and mischievous.
"Alive, I want to see the person; dead, I want to see the body. Continue the search."
