Mistaken Match: Marrying the Enigmatic CEO by Ruby Fennimore

Love at the Wrong Table

Chapter 2304 Hard To Avoid!

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Yorick had reached his limit–there was nothing else he could do. Left with no alternative, he channeled every ounce of his internal strength, his fists crashing forward like twin meteors toward the two black dragons. A thunderous explosion erupted—the devastating Tiger Wrath Fist! Meanwhile, Simba charged at the other black dragon with a reckless resolve, fully prepared to lay down its life in battle.

In the blink of an eye, the bamboo forest became a battlefield of chaos, filled with the earth–shaking cries of dragons and tigers. The entire landscape trembled as if caught in the fury of an impending apocalypse. Isabella’s fingers froze mid–note, her music cut off as she was forced to summon every bit of her strength to defend herself. Even so, the overwhelming force threatened to crush her, making resistance nearly impossible.

Lady Rosa, however, stood no chance. Lacking the strength to resist, she was flung into the air like a discarded red plastic bag, swept away without a trace! “Agh-”

She had no idea how far she had been flung before she finally tumbled to a stop, battered and disheveled. Her once–flawless, bronze–toned legs were now marred with streaks of blood. By some twisted stroke of luck, though the wounds were severe, she had at least avoided a fatal blow.

“D*mn it! So, when the saints battle, mere mortals aren’t even allowed to spectate?” Seething with frustration, she slammed her tiny fists against the soft earth of the bamboo grove, her long legs kicking in protest, throwing a fit like an exasperated child. Then, a thunderous roar erupted from the heart of the ruined forest, raw and filled with anguish. It wasn’t just a sound of fury–it was a wail of defiance, a howl of sheer resentment against the world’s cruel injustices!

“I didn’t kill Jane! Her death wasn’t my doing! And I had nothing to do with your daughter!!” Yorick, drenched in blood, stood his ground despite one arm hanging limp, mangled beyond recognition. Yet, even in his battered state, his voice thundered through the battlefield, each desperate shout carrying an earth- shaking force. With a surge of raw power, he and Simba charged forward, launching a ferocious counteroffensive against Santiago.

Santiago, whose eyes had darkened with fury, suddenly faltered. Seeing Yorick like this sent an unsettling ripple through him, and in that instant, his dominance cracked–the overwhelming pressure he exuded just moments

ago was suddenly reversed, his control slipping through his fingers. Tiger Overlord Fist! Yorick unleashed his ultimate technique, striking in perfect tandem with Simba, hammering Santiago from both flanks in a relentless assault. Even with the Silver Dragon Spear in hand, Santiago was forced onto the defensive, his form breaking under the sheer intensity of their onslaught. Wounds piled upon wounds as he staggered back!

“If you weren’t the one who took her life, then tell me–why is Jane dead?!” The instant Yorick’s strength showed the slightest sign of faltering, the Silver Dragon Spear flared with an icy glow, its brilliance twisting into the form of a dragon. In a heartbeat, it lunged forward, its onslaught cascading like a relentless storm, engulfing everything in its path!

between these two Great Saints raged on, their wounds multiplying, their battle seemingly destined to end only in death. But just as their blows threatened to reach the

Ding–dong–dong–dong…

swept through the battlefield like a whisper from the heavens, bringing an unnatural stillness. It wasn’t that the musician possessed greater strength than them–no, the melody itself had stirred

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stage is set, so the stage must end. A quiet gaze, silk sleeves drifting like whispers in the wind. The audience stirs, eyes wide with longing. All for a fleeting glimpse of a beauty untouchable.” The mournful opera wove a spell of melancholy, its melody steeped in sorrow, its verses laced with heartache. This time, it wasn’t just the two saints caught in its grasp–even Lady Rosa

brows. A crimson mark of a cinnabar graces her forehead…” There she was–lonely, ethereal, an image of sorrow frozen in time.

pinnacle, the moment she was most radiant, most alive, basking in the brilliance of her own perfection. But their fantasy was only half- right. Yes, she had graced the stage with elegance, her every step poetry in motion. Her makeup was immaculate, her smile bewitching. Yet hidden in the

the brushstrokes. A marionette, bound by invisible strings, her laughter a script, her joy a performance.

their grasp, a universe apart. No

layer, the paint is set… A mask of beauty, the curtain lifts. On this stage, I alone weave joy and sorrow into

yet another world. Here, nothing changed. They were still nothing more than distant onlookers, cursed with the vision of gods but

on you! The two young fighters in today’s final match aren’t just skilled–they’re once–in–a–lifetime martial prodigies. If you marry one of them and send him to the battlefield, he’ll make a name

its reputation, its influence–I’ll use that power to discreetly traffic

greed, a chill ran down her spine. His words rang in her ears, cold and calculated, shattering the fragile illusions of the world she

power, the weak are nothing more than prey. If

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