I'm a Immortal Tavernkeeper, But My S-Rank Daughter Doesn't Know That!

Despite being completely paralyzed and immobile, Victor Shieldman was aware of everything that was happening around him, and all of his senses were still functioning.

He watched as the leader of the invaders walked slowly toward him, still. Somehow this man had stopped time. How was that possible? Was there such a powerful force? Not even Victor knew of anyone who could stop time.

The man calmly walked up to Victor, he began to analyze Victor from head to toe, until he finally looked directly into Victor’s eyes.

At that moment, Victor could see that behind the skull mask the man was wearing, there were two very shrewd and experienced blue eyes.

"Interesting, so it’s you," the man said as he looked at Victor closely. His voice rumbled through the silence that had completely taken over the ballroom. "Did you really think you could stand in my way with such a simple plan of revolt? That was brave, you just didn’t expect me to be blessed, did you?"

Victor was paralyzed, but his eyes showed an indomitable flame. He tried with all his might to move, but it was as if he were in a glass prison. His heart was still beating, his neurons were still working, and he could even hear, so all was not lost.

But Victor was out of luck.

The leader of the invaders smiled as he looked at Victor, a cold smile. "Let’s end this rebellion quickly. I don’t want to prolong this political coup any longer than necessary."

He reached into his black cloak and pulled out a dagger with a curved blade and a red knob. He then approached Victor with the dagger in his hand and slashed across Victor’s throat with the sharp blade.

The tactic was dirty, but it was a clean cut in the best sense of the word. No blood flowed at first. In fact, the blow didn’t even appear because time stood still.

"Now, let’s get on with our work." The man said and started walking back to the stage.

As he raised his right hand and made a simple gesture, time began to flow again. The sounds abruptly returned and everything went black for Victor. He was conscious only for a moment, long enough to feel his body fall heavily to the floor. And then the darkness enveloped him completely, pulling him into an endless abyss.

In this abyss, Victor had no clothes and found himself a bit lost.

"Who was he? Or rather, what was he?" Victor asked himself, still not understanding exactly what had happened a few seconds ago.

Of course, he already knew that he had died again.

Suddenly, a faint light appeared on the horizon of the void, growing in intensity until it partially illuminated the abyss. The figure of a woman emerged from that light, moving with supernatural grace. Her white hair, like freshly fallen snow, contrasted with the darkness around her, falling softly to her waist. Her piercing yellow eyes shone with a mixture of impatience and disappointment.

"You again, Victor Shieldman," the woman said, her voice echoing through the void with a tone of exasperation. "How many times do you plan to visit me in this sorry state?"

Victor instantly recognized the figure before him. Gramorn, the Goddess of Death, a being as old as time itself. Her stern face and aura of undeniable power made her an intimidating presence.

"Gramorn," Victor murmured, his voice sounding weak and distant. "I... I didn’t plan it. He stopped time. I didn’t know it was possible."

Gramorn crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Victor. "You underestimate the world, Victor. There are forces beyond your understanding. And you, even at this age, still haven’t learned how to navigate these treacherous seas."

Victor tried to rise, but his ethereal form seemed stuck to the bottom of the abyss. "I did what I could... I tried to fight, I tried to protect..."

"You failed," Gramorn interrupted, his voice as hard as granite. "And now you’re here again. How much resistance, how much pain will you inflict on yourself before you learn the real lesson?"

Victor felt a wave of frustration. "And what is this lesson, Gramorn? What do I have to learn that I haven’t already?"

The goddess approached slowly, her every step echoing in the void. "True strength lies not only in the power of your abilities, but in the wisdom of when and how to use them. You are brave, Victor, but you are often blinded by your determination."

She stopped in front of him and held out a gentle but firm hand. "Stand up, Victor. The stakes are much higher than you realize. Your destiny does not end here, but the next stage will depend on your ability to learn and evolve."

Victor took Gramorn’s hand, feeling a pulsing energy flow through him. Slowly he stood up, his ethereal form taking on more substance. "What do you want me to do?"

Gramorn smiled slightly, a gleam of approval in his eyes.

"First, you must understand the nature of the enemy you face. He who controls time possesses a fragment of primordial power. Find the source of that power and you can understand how to fight it."

She took a step back, the light around her intensifying.

"I’m giving you a chance, Victor. One last chance to prove that you can overcome adversity and fulfill your true destiny. Don’t be rash, be wise."

Before Victor could answer, the light around Gramorn exploded into a blinding glow, consuming him completely. When the light died down, Victor found himself back at the ball.

Behind him was a table full of snacks and drinks. To the right, the entrance, dominated by intruders. To the left, the balcony. And on the stage was the party invader, the one who could stop time at any moment.

"Silence!" shouted the man at the front of the stage. He was tall and thin, but his face was hidden by his mask. "You will all be our prisoners until we get what we want."

The crowd obeyed, and the whispering stopped almost immediately. He stepped forward, positioning himself in the center of the stage where the light from the magical spotlights illuminated him perfectly, highlighting the skull mask that hid his face.

"You, you all think you’re superior, don’t you? Competing with your astronomical bids for ’charity’. But let’s be honest, the best thing you could do is not donate this money to charity. No, that’s not even a donation. The best thing to do would be to pay fair and realistic wages. Do not turn your workers into slaves.

There was a murmur of uneasiness among those present. Some merchants exchanged worried glances, while the nobles maintained a defiant expression, as if they wanted to protest but knew it would be pointless.

"Ah, the irony," the leader continued, his voice filled with sarcasm. "You are here, at a luxury auction, spending fortunes on items that are nothing more than symbols of your status, while outside, on the streets, people are starving, with nothing to wear and nowhere to sleep. Do you think you are doing your part by giving a few coins to charity? You’re not heroes. You are parasites. The nobility are the great parasites of the workers.

Victor felt a wave of indignation mixed with a strange feeling of agreement. He knew there was some truth in the man’s words. However, violence and intimidation were not the way to go. He had to think of a way to neutralize the situation or at least get Luisa and Mari out of this place.

On the other side of the hall, Luísa stared at the leader of the intruders. She seemed to want to act, but she was clearly assessing the situation and waiting for the right moment.

"So, what’s the plan?" One of the nobles, a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed gray beard, shouted and stood up. "You want money? We can negotiate."

The leader let out a dry laugh. "Money? We’re not here for money. We’re here for justice. We’re here to show you that you cannot continue to live in opulence while others suffer. Today you’re going to feel what it’s like to be powerless, to be helpless. Please, boys, kill this man who thinks he’s something."

The gray-bearded nobleman, still standing, took on a tone of desperation as he stepped back. "Wait, I said we can negotiate. I have resources, contacts. We can resolve this without violence."

His words were a desperate attempt to calm the situation, but deep down everyone knew that the leader of the invaders wasn’t there to negotiate.

The leader of the hooded men laughed again, a dry, cruel sound that echoed through the hall.

"You rich people always think you can buy anything. You think your money can solve every problem, don’t you?" He gestured to one of his men, who slowly approached the nobleman.

Victor took a deep breath and realized that maybe this was the time to act. For now, not letting anyone die might be the answer he was looking for.

"Wait!" said Victor.