Just now, in a moment of carelessness, Breena Davey had almost been killed by Alex, which was simply a great shame.

Burning anger surged up in her chest.

When she heard Ynes Larkin’s question at this moment, she only took it as false concern from the younger woman and immediately roared, “Do I need you to block a sword for me? You think you can get me to let you go with such a trick? Impossible.”

Ynes wept, “Master, I never thought of that. I caused Yorkshire Palace’s reputation to be damaged, and I’ve caused you to be ridiculed by your peers. I deserve to die, and I have no complaints.”

“It had better be!”

The anger on Breena’s face did not ease up in the slightest.

She gave a violent wave of her hand.

The long sword that had pierced through Ynes’ thigh immediately pulled out and returned to Breena’s hands.

Ynes, who couldn’t bear the pain, screamed.

Her thigh had been forcefully gouged out, and there was a hole where blood gushed from.

Forget about the pain Ynes was in.