Chapter 521: Assassination

The stench of blood filled the room.

“Rest in peace, Father!”

Garrett drew his longsword, knelt down, and gently brushed Bruno’s face, closing the dead man’s staring eyes.

When he rose again, grief and hesitation had vanished from his face—only madness and resolve remained.

Now, he was no longer the Crown Prince. He was Odoth the Sixth, King of the Realm, the liege lord to whom all nobles pledged allegiance.

“No one shall command my will ever again. No one!”

He clenched his fist, glancing at the corpse at his feet. “Now, let me deliver the first great gift to the Wushan family!”

Garrett chuckled softly, then pushed open the door. The corridor reeked of blood.

Yet he did not pause, striding swiftly away from the scene.

Though as the kingdom’s first heir, the throne would naturally be his upon Bruno’s death,

that did not mean Garrett could afford to let the world know he was the one who killed him.

To murder a king—to murder one’s own father—such a crime, once revealed, would cause nearly every noble to reject his claim. At the slightest provocation, the kingdom would crumble into chaos.

And yet, he had been the last to see the king alive. Suspicion clung to him like a shadow, impossible to wash clean.

Thus, Bruno’s death must be concealed.

“My lord!”

Outside the royal chambers, the guards snapped to attention as Garrett emerged.

“Hmm.”

Garrett gave a curt reply, walking briskly as he spoke, “Enemy movements have been frequent of late. Stand your posts vigilantly. Report any disturbance immediately.”

The guards’ faces turned solemn. “Yes, my lord!”

Garrett nodded, then hurried away.

How long passed, none could say—then a strange, eerie wind swept through the chambers, forcing the sentries to circulate their battle aura to fight off fatigue and cold.

“What kind of cursed weather is this? In past years, winter snows had already melted by January. This year is unnatural!”

“Aye, freezing to death—colder than when it snows!”

“Wonder if tomorrow will be clear?”

The guards murmured among themselves, some lifting their eyes to the night sky, seeking omens in the stars.

“What is that?”

One cried out sharply.

All looked up—and saw a vast, dark shape hovering above them, silent and immense. At first glance, it might have been mistaken for a storm cloud.

But this shadow had form—head, tail, unmistakably not mere vapor.

“A beast?”

“How could any beast grow so large?”

“No—Lord Ronin’s dragon is just as big!”

Any beast meant danger.

The squad captain barked orders: “Go! Alert Master Broar! Summon the Gryphon Knights to readiness! I’ll inform the Captain!”

Even as they moved, a black figure plummeted from the sky, landing silently in the courtyard.

“Intruder!”

The guards reacted swiftly, drawing blades even as they shouted.

But they were no match. Before a single strike could land, cold steel slit their throats. They collapsed into crimson pools.

With the path cleared, the assassin flashed into the chambers.

“Sound the horn!”

“Intruder!”

The captain screamed, and the shrill call shattered the winter night’s silence.

Broar’s quarters were nearby. Hearing the alarm, he came at once.

But as he reached the doorway, a thunderous explosion erupted within—the force of a mighty martial technique blasting a gaping hole through the palace wall.

“No!”

Broar’s face paled. With a single leap, he vaulted through the breach onto the second floor.

What he saw froze his blood—Philemon, half his body gone, and corpses strewn across the floor.

“My king!”

Broar rushed into Bruno’s bedchamber—only to see a masked figure emerging from within.

Blood dripped from the assassin’s blade. Behind him, the room lay utterly still.

“Damn it!”

Sword in hand, Broar charged like a madman.

The assassin raised his blade, effortlessly parrying every strike—then kicked, sending Broar flying backward, crashing through walls before finally coming to a halt.

“Too strong!”

Broar’s heart trembled. A late Meteor-class warrior, he could hold his ground against even a Silver Moon Knight—but this foe? Unimaginably powerful.

He stood no chance.

“Sunrise Knight?”

The assassin showed no interest in Broar. He leapt back through the hole into the courtyard—just as a host of knights had gathered outside.

Seeing the intruder, they unleashed their techniques.

Dozens of radiant attacks lit the night sky, roaring with fury.

Yet the assassin struck but once. Crimson flames surged forth—not only quelling their attacks, but scorching the knights on the ground, leaving them broken and burning.

“Stay!”

A thunderous roar split the distance. Purple lightning streaked toward the assassin.

“It’s the Crown Prince!”

“The Crown Prince is here!”

Relief washed over the soldiers. The Crown Prince was said to be a Sunrise Knight—he would surely capture the killer.

But the distant attack was effortlessly deflected. Then, with a step upon empty air, the assassin soared upward, vanishing into the high, dark clouds.

Moments later, the massive shadow shot across the sky, racing toward the horizon.

By the time Garrett arrived at the chambers, the assassin was gone.

“Damn it! What in hell happened here?”

Garrett roared in fury, demanding answers.

No one dared to answer.

"Your Highness, come in!"

Brol's heavy voice rang out, sending shivers through everyone’s bones.

Garrett finally snapped back to reality and swiftly flew forward. "How is my father?"

Brol looked disheveled, blood still trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Yet the horror of what had happened had numbed him to pain.

"The king... he is gone."

"Damn you! How could you let this happen!"

Furious, Garrett shoved him aside and rushed inside, his expression frantic—yet beneath that panic lay something unreadable.

In truth, Brol hadn’t even dared to look at the prince’s face. He was already drowning in guilt.

For years, Philimon had guarded Bruno closely, while Brol served as the secondary shield.

Silver Moon Knights were rare before, and Sunfire Knights even rarer—Bruno’s safety had never been compromised.

But now, with the world outside shifting so drastically, their defenses hadn’t kept pace. And so, the king had fallen to an assassin’s blade.

"No!"

Garrett’s anguished cry tore through the air, plunging every heart into despair. All stood frozen, helpless.

Outside, the knights each harbored a thought so absurd it chilled them:

The king… is dead?

Brol lifted his leaden legs and stepped into the familiar bedchamber. There, he saw Garrett kneeling on the floor.

Before the crown prince lay the cold, lifeless body of King Bruno.

The air grew thick, suffocating.

Long moments passed.

"Who was the assassin?"

Garrett slowly raised his head. His eyes burned crimson, and the aura of a Sunfire Knight surged wildly around him, making Brol recoil in fear.

"He wore a mask. I didn’t see his face."

Brol spoke gravely. "But he was immensely powerful. My full-strength strike—he blocked it effortlessly. Then, with a single burst of force, he sent me crashing through several walls."

He paused, then voiced his suspicion: "I believe... he was a Sunfire Knight."

"A Sunfire Knight?"

Garrett rose to his feet, clenched his fist, and spat out a name through gritted teeth: "Ronin!"

Ronin?

Brol’s pupils contracted sharply. "Impossible, Your Highness. That man could not have been Ronin!"

"Then it must be his subordinate, Rudar!"

Garrett’s voice brooked no argument. "Look across the kingdoms of Audoin and Trisia—how many Sunfire Knights are there? And that massive shadow in the sky just now—whose dragon could it have been, if not his?"

"But—"

Brol faltered, unable to refute the logic, yet his instincts screamed that the killer was neither Ronin nor Rudar.

"Go," Garrett commanded coldly. "Bring my mother here. And seal this news—no one is to speak of it."

Something felt wrong to Brol, but he couldn’t name it.

All he could do was carry his sorrow for the fallen king, his shame for failing his duty, and obey.

"The kingdom…" he whispered inwardly, "is about to change forever."

(End of Chapter)