# Chapter 560: "Okay, Mr. Drago." Although the Villagers Could Not Understand Silas, They Unconditionally Obeyed Him: The Price of a Hundred-Year Promise
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 560 of "The Untouchable Ex Wife" — a chapter that carries the weight of an ancient clan's suffering, the quiet tension of two strangers negotiating for their lives, and the unexpected mercy of a man who had seen too much bloodshed in his years. So grab a seat, take a deep breath, and let me guide you through every heartbeat of this gripping encounter deep in the mountains of Dragos.
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The air in that earthy village chamber was heavy, almost suffocating. The villagers standing around them didn't speak, but their eyes said everything — fierce, wary, and ready to bare their teeth if anyone misstepped. Even though they couldn't quite understand the elegant words leaving Silas's mouth, they bowed their heads and obeyed him unconditionally. That kind of loyalty wasn't built on fear alone; it was carved from years of shared pain, survival, and an unshakable belief that this old man had their blood running through his veins.
Xavier, however, didn't seem the least bit intimidated by the atmosphere. He lounged casually on a rough wooden stool, his expensive clothes clinging to him like a second skin. Even with wild mountain scenery and dirt floors beneath him, he still looked every inch the rich CEO — confident, arrogant, and entirely unbothered. He drifted his gaze around the room and muttered in his usual nonchalant tone, "If it weren't for you, I would have thought everyone here were cavemen!"
No one laughed. No one relaxed. The villagers only stared harder.
Quinton, far more experienced in dangerous situations than Xavier was, took in everything with a calm, calculating mind. He could read the room immediately. They were in the palm of these people's hands — trapped, surrounded, and completely at the mercy of the elder's judgment. Fighting their way out? That would be courting death. They had no choice but to play by Silas's rules.
So Quinton swallowed his pride, stepped forward, and spoke with the most polite tone he could muster. "Mr. Drago, I'm sure you can see our sincerity. We aren't bad people, and neither is Stefan. It was an urgent matter — my sister was on the verge of death. That's why he violated your clan's sacred laws."
His voice was steady, but his worry was real. He wasn't just negotiating for a stranger; he was fighting for something much deeper — a family debt, a life debt, a thread connecting him to Stefan that couldn't be easily broken.
Silas didn't rush to answer. The old man lifted his tea slowly, let the steam curl around his weathered fingers, and took a calm sip. There was no anger in his eyes. Only the patience of someone who had lived long enough to see all kinds of faces, all kinds of lies, and all kinds of desperate people standing exactly where Quinton and Xavier now stood.
Finally, Silas spoke, his voice unhurried and almost meditative. "You don't have to tell me about your innocence. All those who came looking for the dragon's saliva had an urgent matter. Some wanted wealth. Some wanted health. I've seen many kinds of people at my age, and you two are hardly the most innocent ones."
Quinton lowered his head for a moment, absorbing those words. He knew he couldn't argue. "Let's cut to the chase then — what do we need to do so you'll let him go?"
But Silas wasn't going to be rushed. He sipped his tea in silence, letting the weight of the question hang in the air. That silence made Xavier's blood boil. The young CEO couldn't stand being kept waiting.
"Old man, he's asking you a question! Stop wasting time! When are you going to let him go?" Xavier slammed his palm against the table with a loud crack. The villagers tensed, their hands clenching around hidden weapons. But Xavier didn't flinch. "I'm sure you're aware that we can destroy your village. He has to return with us today!"
It was a dangerous threat, a bluff wrapped in privilege and fury. But Silas did not tremble. He simply set his cup down and looked at the hot-headed young man with calm, knowing eyes.
"Did I say you can't take him away?" Silas said slowly. "But you have to agree to my terms before I let him go."
Xavier's impatience immediately turned into a glimmer of hope. If they could negotiate, then the door wasn't completely shut. "What is it?" he asked eagerly. "Say it!"
Then Silas began to speak — not just as a village elder, but as the guardian of a bloodline soaked in tragedy. "Dragos has never been peaceful from the day I was born. Although the dragon's saliva is practically a myth to the outside world, word still spread. Over the years, many people came here because of it. They used all kinds of means, gentle and cruel, to get their hands on it. If not for my dragon ancestor's blessings, Dragos would have been ruined long ago..."
The old man's eyes glistened as he spoke. Around him, even the fierce villagers bowed their heads in shared sorrow. It was obvious to anyone watching that this village had endured heartbreaking misfortunes. Their wariness toward strangers wasn't paranoia — it was the scar tissue of centuries.
Then Silas revealed a painful memory: "Fifty years ago, a group of robbers barged into my village. They came not to ask, but to take. We risked our lives to fight them off. When the dust finally settled, only a little more than ten families remained. After that, we moved higher into the mountains. All the checkpoints you passed on your way here? Those used to be gathering points of the villagers. Now they are nothing more than heartbreaking monuments to our fallen brothers and sisters."
Quinton let out a slow sigh. "Sir, I understand. I've lived that kind of life before." And he truly did. Back in the old days, before the Carmine Pawnshop gained its foothold at Water Dock, Quinton's subordinates had bled and died for every inch of ground they conquered. He knew what it meant to build something on the bones of loyalty — and what it cost to keep it standing.
At that moment, the wounded stories of the village and the veteran darkness in Quinton's heart quietly mirrored one another.
Silas looked at him with a new softness. "I thought you all were like the bad people who came for the dragon's saliva. But it seems I was wrong..." He turned his gaze toward the direction of the memorial chamber. "You returned the cauldron with the dragon's saliva unharmed. You didn't come to exterminate my clan. You showed restraint, and for that, I am willing to forgive you. I will let the boy go."
Quinton's heart lifted slightly -- but he knew the old man wasn't finished.
"However," Silas continued, his voice becoming heavy as ancient stone. "My condition is that you and your people must protect my clan for a hundred years. You must stop wicked people from harming us. That is the price of my mercy."
A hundred years.
That wasn't just a promise. It was a life sentence. It was a bond that would outlive them, outlast their power, and bind whoever came after them to a hidden mountain village's silent war.
Xavier's eyes widened. Quinton's throat went dry. Outside, the wind whistled through the mountain peaks, as if even nature itself was waiting to see what they would say next. The villagers straightened their backs, ready to accept whatever verdict the elder had chosen. They didn't fully understand the old man's words, but they understood the weight behind them.
Protect Dragos for a hundred years. Stop wickedness from ever darkening their thresholds again. Was that a punishment? A blessing? Or perhaps, in a strange way, an honor?
Quinton looked at the old man's wrinkled but resolute face. He knew this was not an unreasonable demand from the greedy or the cruel. It was the desperate plea of a guardian who had watched too many of his own die. And maybe — just maybe — Quinton understood that promise better than he wanted to admit.
The cage door had been opened just a crack. But to walk through it, they would have to shoulder a burden that would follow them into the shadows for generations.
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Reader's Impressions & Star Rating:
Oh, this chapter was gorgeous in its quiet intensity! We went from Xavier's playful arrogance to Silas's raw storytelling, and the emotional shift really grabbed me by the heart. The history of the Dragos villagers — losing family after family to greedy outsiders — makes their hostility completely understood. Silas isn't acting like a ruthless tyrant; he's acting like a wounded leader who finally sees a glimmer of worth in these two strangers. This chapter beautifully balances tension, backstory, and an unexpected moral test. Xavier's bold temper provides a perfect contrast to Quinton's grounded wisdom. I really felt the heavy atmosphere and the meaning of that "hundred-year promise." A truly atmospheric chapter.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
Next Chapter Prediction:
Now that Silas has revealed his astonishing condition — protecting Dragos for a hundred years — the real conflict begins. I predict Quinton and Xavier will be forced to accept, but not without consequences. Stefan's return may spark fresh trouble, and the promise will likely put them in direct conflict with a powerful enemy lurking in the shadows. What hidden forces are coming for dragon's saliva next? And will this eternal oath drag Quinton even deeper into a war he didn't ask for? The next chapter should be packed with dangerous chases, unexpected alliances, and the first taste of what protecting this sacred clan truly costs!
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