Chapter 92: 92 King of Finishing Blows

Chapter 92 The King of the Killing Blow

Slain considered himself the master of the Three-Party Alliance, having socialized within the Bamboo and Purple Fruit tribes more than once, and in his heart, he had long regarded these two allies as prizes already in his pocket.

Upon receiving the news from Lauren, he had enthusiastically led his men here without a moment's rest, aiming not only to rescue Jenny and Irene but also to annex the Purple Fruit tribe.

Yet he never could have imagined that when he charged into the mountain stronghold with his subordinates, he would be met by Jenny and Horn walking toward him side by side, their display of affection so dazzling it stung the eyes—where was there any hint of imprisonment?

"What is the meaning of this?" Slain muttered, his face a mask of utter bewilderment.

Maim’s expression shifted drastically, and he hissed a low warning, "Disaster, Jenny was indeed lying! My lord, I suggest we withdraw from the stronghold at once!"

The three knights beside him and the few cavalrymen also paled, but Slain merely let out a cold sneer.

"What is there to fear? Do you truly believe they can best us in battle?"

Just then, the hurried thunder of footsteps echoed from behind them; Rydal and Tom had led their squad forward, completely sealing off the path of retreat.

Slain glanced back, a cold knot of unease tightening in his chest.

He turned back, his gaze fixing upon Jenny with murderous venom, "Miserable wench, how dare you deceive me!"

Jenny showed no anger at the insult, a faint smile instead gracing her lips, "My apologies, Slain, I did indeed deceive you. However, I have also brought you an opportunity to rid yourself of this 'savage' status."

She took a step forward, "This is Baron Ronin, Lord of the Forest Town, and a true descendant of the Mountain Family. He has already conquered the Bamboo tribe with his absolute might and slain Knight Willie, and I have led my followers to submit to him. Now, the choice is yours."

"As a former ally, I offer you this benevolent warning: swearing fealty to Lord Ronin is your only choice."

The men of the Grey Earth tribe were struck dumb by Jenny’s introduction, particularly Maim; he had envisioned a coalition between the Purple Fruit and Black Collar tribes, but never had he anticipated a noble suddenly emerging from the Northern Woods—and a member of the ruling house of the Mountain Fief, no less.

"The Baron of Forest Town? Of the Mountain Family?"

Slain turned his furious glare toward Ronin, his brow furrowing deeply.

No wonder; no wonder he had felt a surge of discomfort when his eyes first swept over this silver-haired youth. Had not the leader of the noble coalition that once hunted them down possessed hair of the very same silver hue?

However, to force his submission to a noble was an absolute impossibility.

Slain’s grandest ambition was to become a noble himself, or, failing that, to remain a warlord of his own domain—a life far more pleasant than serving another.

To him, surrendering to the Black Collar tribe was infinitely more palatable than bending the knee to a noble lord.

Slowly, he drew the longsword sheathed at his mount's side, narrowing his small eyes as he spoke with frigid disdain, "A silver-haired brat expects my submission? In your dreams!"

"Hiya!"

Slain abruptly dug his heels into his horse's flanks, launching into a headlong charge and denying Ronin even the slightest opportunity for negotiation.

Jenny had spoken correctly; the man was confident, arrogant, conceited, and utterly devoid of intellect.

"My lord, watch out!"

Jenny cried out in alarm, while Knight Horn beside her already braced himself to strike.

Their surrender was genuine, and they had no desire to see any harm befall Ronin.

Yet there was one who moved far swifter than they.

McCann, who had remained a steadfast guardian at Ronin's side, sprang into action the very instant the enemy began his charge.

He slammed his foot against the earth, and a torrential surge of battle qi erupted; the ground shuddered violently, and midway through the enemy's charge, the earth rose up abruptly to form a massive wall of stone and soil.

"Shatter!"

Slain roared, unleashing a fierce arc of sword light that smashed into the barrier, bursting the wall into fragments, while his battle qi enveloped both himself and his warhorse, manifesting as a great, galloping armor of light.

With a mighty leap, Slain cleared the crumbling wall and broke through.

Ronin’s eyes brightened; Slain's style of combat was brutal and unyielding, and if he could tame the man, he would gain a formidable general.

However, that fleeting thought was extinguished just as quickly as it arose.

McCann showed not a flicker of fear; even without a mount, his short-range burst of speed was blindingly fast, and as the two forces rushed toward one another, they collided almost instantaneously.

"Die!"

Sovereign from his saddle, Slain thrust his sword down toward McCann, never expecting this knight to be so indifferent to death as to throw himself beneath his blade.

The moment McCann brushed past the warhorse, he seized his window of attack, meeting the strike with a devastating blow of his own.

The longswords clashed, and a boundless, crushing force exploded from the blades.

McCann was thrown backward by the shockwave, while Slain was sent flying through the air like a kite with its string snapped, crashing heavily to the dirt and coughing up a mouthful of blood.

The warhorse beneath him was upended by the sheer force of the collision, plowing through the dirt for a dozen meters by its own inertia before grinding to a halt a mere few paces from Ronin.

"Elrond, quick, go heal this horse!" Ronin commanded without delay.

Over the past two days, Elrond had finished crafting his healing spell scrolls, and outside of his meditations, he spent his time seeing if anyone in the Bamboo or Purple Fruit tribes required his aid.

Whenever he found someone, he would cast a healing spell, which not only got the wounded back to work but also broadcasted the benevolence of the Lord.

He had hardly expected his healing magic would now be wasted on a horse.

Still, horses were indeed quite expensive.

"As you wish, my lord!" the Light Mage accepted the order with pleasure.

As the healing of the horse commenced, Slain dragged himself out of the dust, his face contorted with terror and his expression shifting wildly; this Baron possessed a terrifying strength.

"Maim, attack! All together now, kill this noble and we shall remain the Kings of the Forest!"

The roaring command snapped Maim out of the stupor induced by the sudden combat, his mind racing at frantic speeds.

To him, surrender was likewise a poor option, for he had betrayed Jenny.

Now that Jenny had surrendered to Ronin first and devised such an excellent strategy, she had undoubtedly secured the Baron’s favor. Were he to surrender now, Jenny would likely demand his execution.

And in that moment, the young Baron would very likely grant her request.

"If Slain dies, so be it; as long as I lead our men to break through, I can return to the Grey Earth tribe and become the chief myself! Then I can cooperate with the Black Collar tribe, and with the faction behind them, I need not fear this Baron."

In a single instant, Maim mapped out his retreat, "Babulin, and the rest of you, Slain is finished! If you wish to live, break out with me; to stay is to die! The Baron and Jenny will never spare us!"

Spurred by zero hesitation, he instantly wheeled his horse around to charge outward, rather than obeying Slain's command to assault Ronin.

Babulin, the three other junior knights, and the five cavalrymen froze for a fraction of a second before turning their mounts without a shred of doubt, following Maim in his desperate flight toward the exit.

Maim handled most matters within the Grey Earth tribe, and they trusted his judgment implicitly.

"Betrayal! Dammit, how dare you betray me!"

Slain howled, his eyes bloodshot as the battle qi upon his body grew wildly chaotic, "Kill!"

He could care less about anything else now; his only hope of survival lay in breaking through McCann’s defense and seizing Ronin as a hostage.

Yet no matter how he charged, no matter how he shifted his assault, he was blocked seamlessly by McCann, unable to advance a single step.

Meanwhile, Maim and his cohort, who looked to be on the verge of escaping, were suddenly greeted by a massive cloud of fire.

This cloud of flame descended upon them like a shroud of crimson silk falling from the heavens!

The warhorses let out terrified shrieks, their footing instantly thrown into chaos.

The riders upon them lost their balance and tumbled to the dirt; Maim, possessing slightly faster reflexes, swung his sword to unleash a battle qi slash, only to be blasted backward by the concussive force of the fiery cloud, thrown violently from his horse.

Rydal flourished his longsword, "Secure them!"

Tom, Wharton, Dandy, and the others led the guards and militiamen forward, instantly swarming the fallen men.

The battle ended swiftly. Under Ridal’s command, Mam and the other ten men escaped not a single soul—they were all dragged down, forced to kneel on the ground, two swords resting across their necks, not daring to so much as twitch.

Meanwhile, Srein, who had been utterly crushed by Macken, lay sprawled on the earth, unable to rise.

Jenny and Horn stared in shock at the scene before them. They had never imagined that, in direct confrontation with the Gray Soil Tribe, Ronin could win so effortlessly.

Their gazes flickered between Macken and Ridal.

The combat prowess these two had just displayed was terrifying—undoubtedly peak high-tier strength, perhaps even rivaling Bronze-rank knights.

In contrast, Ronin had not lifted a single finger throughout the entire ordeal. His calm, unshaken demeanor revealed absolute clarity and trust in his subordinates’ abilities.

Jenny and Horn felt profound relief—they were glad, that night, they had chosen to surrender.

Ronin walked over to Macken. “How did it feel, finally letting your fists fly?”

Macken grinned, reluctant to let go of the thrill. “Thank you, my lord, for this opportunity. But this fellow was too weak—I could’ve bested him even when I was still a mid-rank knight.”

Beside them, Srein turned his face toward Ronin as he approached, his eyes locking onto him with venomous intensity.

Just hours ago, he had been a chief, served by others, holding the lives of hundreds in his hands. Now, he was a prisoner, at the mercy of another.

And the architect of this ruin stood right before him—the man with silver hair.

“I will… kill you!”

Srein gripped the sword on the ground, hatred so fierce it refused to release its grip. Had he been able to stand, he would have launched himself at Ronin without hesitation.

“Should I commend you for your courage… or call you foolishly blind to reality?”

Ronin took the sword from Macken’s hand.

He had once considered whether he might bring this man into his fold. But now, there was no need.

First, the man was weak—merely a mindless brute charging forward.

Second—and more importantly—Srein’s eyes, just now, had burned with a hatred so deep it unsettled Ronin. No gesture, no promise of restoring his freedom, could ever erase that kind of loathing.

All things considered, such a man, if spared, would inevitably become a future threat.

Thwack!

Ronin drove the blade straight through Srein’s throat, ending his life.

【“King of Slaughter” achievement unlocked. Attribute points +80, Energy Essence +160】

“Call me the King of the Final Blow,” Ronin thought to himself.

(End of Chapter)