"Leoric, you madman! Look what you've done?!"

After a brief moment of surprise, some people in the audience finally came to their senses. Even though Leoric still maintained his dignity and aura, he was nothing more than a decrepit old man on his deathbed.

Several nobles from Holy Guard City picked up the scattered weapons from the ground and stood below the steps, confronting their former king.

Leoric, leaning on his sword, stood at the top of the throne steps, his eyes wide open, glaring at the crowd before him, and roaring through gritted teeth, "A bunch of traitors who have long forgotten our kindness!"

Sinclair stood at the back, frowning as he watched this farcical scene unfold. He turned his head and gave a wink to his confidants in the crowd.

A moment later, someone shouted, "Get rid of this tyrant!"

A chorus of agreement immediately arose.

"Kill this murderer!"

"This guy is just an old man! There's nothing to be afraid of!"

"May the glory of the Father protect the Holy City!"

Quietly distancing himself from the enraged mob, Todd stood in a secluded corner, focusing his gaze on the astrologer beside Leoric, and waited patiently for the situation to unfold.

To his delight, the gray-robed astrologer finally moved, slamming his oak staff against the ground.

Suddenly, countless white threads hung down from the roof of the main hall, and countless pale green sacs fell into the crowd along the threads. These spherical objects hit the ground and exploded, releasing large amounts of smoke-like spores.

"Damn it! What are all these?!"

People screamed in panic. Those closer to the gate tried to escape the eerie smoke, but soon they found themselves paralyzed and their legs wouldn't obey them.

Large numbers of people fell to the ground, unable to move even a little finger, their cries of pain and angry curses filling the air.

A few minutes later, the strong wind outside the hall gradually dispersed the 'smoke', and the people lying on the ground finally saw the scene before them clearly.

Leoric, holding a blood-stained sword, slowly descended the steps of the throne. Behind him, five gray-robed figures of varying heights appeared, staring motionlessly at the mess in the hall.

Some people started shouting for help, hoping that the nearby soldiers would hear them and come to their rescue.

To their disappointment, the guards near the palace had been driven outside the palace gates, and the King's Palace was too far from the gates. To make matters worse, it was pouring rain outside with thunder and lightning; even the sounds of gongs and drums wouldn't carry very far, let alone human voices.

Leoric, watching the people's disgraceful state with great interest, approached those groveling at his feet, kicking these once arrogant nobles while looking around for his target.

After watching for a while, Leoric's eyes suddenly lit up.

He stepped over the bodies lying haphazardly on the ground, ignoring the cries and pleas for mercy around him, and went straight to a young man who was desperately trying to crawl away.

“Matilda, my good son, where are you planning to go?” Leoric squatted down, patted the other’s pale cheek with the blade of his sword, and laughed as he said, “Your colorful and gorgeous costume is so bright that even a blind man could see it.”

The man in the middle of the five gray-robed men whispered to his companion, "Seventeen, go and take Mathilde away."

Watching his son being lifted up and led away from the hall by the gray-robed man, Leoric, carrying a sharp sword, continued his search through the crowd.

After a while, he found Sinclair hiding behind a pillar.

As his father approached him with a longsword, Sinclair had lost his usual composure and calmness.

"What do you want to do?! Don't come any closer! Don't come any closer!" Unable to move, Sinclair's eyes were filled with panic and unease. He struggled to twist his neck, searching around for anyone who might be able to save him.

Leoric grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at him, and said cruelly in a low voice, "I used to think you were my proudest child, but in the end, you are my most deadly enemy."

Large beads of sweat rolled down Sinclair's forehead, his voice trembling as he said, "Father, please let me explain..."

Leoric had no intention of listening to his explanation and gestured to the men in gray. Soon, Sinclair was also hoisted onto their shoulders and taken away from the hall.

The gray-robed man at the head, an astrologer with an oak staff, seeing that both princes had been successfully subdued, said to Leoric, "It's time to leave this place."

Leoric shook the blood off his sword and shook his head, saying, "No, I still have a few scores to settle."

After saying this, he walked straight to an elderly nobleman, stretched out his leg, and pressed his shoe firmly against the nobleman's face. His voice was as cold as ice that had never melted: "Marquis Bakal, my most loyal supporter, my old comrade-in-arms who once fought alongside me. I have always regarded you as my most trusted brother, and I have always thought that you would always stand by my side... What I never expected was that the assassins we encountered during the pilgrimage were hired by you, and the poison in our food was also your doing... You have disappointed me to the extreme!"

Marquis Bakal, trampled under Leoric's foot, roared angrily, "I have an entire family to feed! But you can't be the King of Holy Guard City forever!"

Leoric shook his head regretfully: "Short-sighted fellow."

The longsword was raised high and then brought down heavily.

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