Chapter 838: Substituting One Thing for Another (4/4)

Chapter 838: Substituting One for Another (4/4)

It was already too late!

“Bang—!”

Anwar, gripping the pistol, aimed at his chest and, steeling his heart, pulled the trigger a second time, then a third, a fourth... until the entire magazine was empty.

The crackling gunfire echoed through the palace, like the tolling of church bells.

The guards and attendants stood by, watching helplessly as their wise and mighty Heavenly King convulsed on the throne like an electrocuted kangaroo, finally slumping into a pool of blood.

Like a tattered rag.

The scene fell into utter silence, not a sound to be heard.

Dead...

The Heavenly King was dead just like that?!

It hadn’t even been a week since he ascended the throne...

Including the Far-Sighted Eagle and the Troublemaking Stick, along with all the envoys from the alliance, everyone was stunned by this sudden, unforeseen upheaval.

Especially the former.

He was well aware of Abusayek’s conspiracy, having exchanged intelligence with the Pangolin, but he never imagined the so-called scheme would be nothing more than a pistol.

Wasn’t that just too crude and straightforward?!

Of course.

For this group to have barged in here without a hitch, there was clearly an invisible hand pulling the strings behind the scenes.

The Eagle’s mind raced, swiftly piecing together all the known clues.

Anwar’s chest heaved violently as he glared at the corpse, then hurled the pistol to the ground with force.

Like a true warrior.

He braced himself and roared at the lifeless body and the bloodstained throne.

“I rose up to change the empire’s fate, not to replace it with a coward like you!”

“The guilt is mine alone—do with me as you will!”

He knew full well he wouldn’t die.

Abusayek wouldn’t let him die, at least not in this act.

That was what his “advisor and fellow believer” Isher had told him.

At the very same moment his words fell, chaotic footsteps echoed from outside the great hall.

About a hundred men rushed in, rifles raised with murderous intent, encircling the twenty-odd people standing at the entrance.

“What the hell have you done! Do you even know what you’ve done?!” The centurion leading them glared, his eyes bloodshot, his gun aimed squarely at Anwar.

Anwar extended his hands, unmoved.

“I know exactly what I’ve done. I’ll confess, but I won’t regret it.”

“It was all for the thousand tribes of the Brahman Province.”

The centurion gritted his teeth for a long moment, but ultimately refrained from violence, merely taking out chains to cuff the man before him.

The remaining twenty-odd soldiers offered no resistance, dropping their guns to the ground without hesitation, surrendering alongside their chiliarch Anwar, and were then forced to the floor.

Moments later, another clatter of footsteps came from outside the hall, and a figure fell to his knees with a thud before the throne.

“Your Majesty! Your Majesty!!!”

The man wept heart-wrenchingly, his forehead pressed to the ground, pounding the floor with his fists.

The guards and attendants nearby looked on with pity in their eyes.

The Duct’s Dog glanced at Brother Stick beside him and whispered in a low voice.

“I’d wager this one’s Abusayek.”

Brother Stick chuckled.

“You’d lose that bet.”

The Old Dog looked at him in surprise.

“Huh?”

Brother Stick tilted his head slightly and murmured in his ear.

“This isn’t a palace drama. They probably won’t set up another Heavenly King, but swapping the banner outright won’t win them legitimacy... Just wait. The one who’s come on stage first will likely play the villain, while Abusayek, the good cop, is still preparing behind the scenes.”

The plot wasn’t exactly stale, but it wasn’t all that novel either.

Though it was only the beginning, he felt he could already see the ending...