Takashi Hosaki has carried out many missions. At only thirty-something years old, he has achieved remarkable results among the elite warriors, and many nobles have heard of his name.
He has assassinated ambassadors of other countries.
He participated in the "Battle of the Dead" and survived.
If you were to strip him bare, you would likely find many ugly wounds, but he regarded those wounds as an honor bestowed upon the royal family.
This could prove his loyalty, or perhaps his strength.
However, no one expected this.
With a single stroke, Ming Lingye slashed open his chest. Blood, like a river freed from its restraints, rushed out from the corners of his body, seemingly gaining true freedom only upon touching the grass.
This analogy may seem uninteresting, but if you think about it carefully, what if we really were demons imprisoning countless cells?
Their escape might then have a more vivid meaning.
Hosaki Takeru didn't think so. He had no other thoughts to consider because he felt the temperature rapidly draining from his body, and an unimaginable coldness swept over him.
It's like being in a wilderness, a vast expanse of white where you can't see anything.
There were no companions, not even any living people.
Countless snowflakes suddenly appeared in the sky, fluttering down in a beautiful display. But when they landed on him, he felt...so cold.
They're going to be buried in the snow...
In those few seconds, a multitude of thoughts raced through Takeru Hosaki's mind, his life experiences flashing by like a slideshow, and his eyes gradually began to lose their luster.
No, don't.
He could hear a tiny figure screaming in his mind, and then the tiny figure was engulfed by a raging torrent.
The lakeside offers beautiful scenery, a gentle breeze, and a sudden brightening of the sky.
One after another, the death squad members stood still, and not a single one of them moved an inch.
Their gazes all converged on Hosaki Takeru, staring intently as his blood gushed forth, until his body collapsed to the ground with a thud.
A chill ran through countless people.
I clearly felt the fear.
A well-established and renowned Group A assassin, worshipped by so many people and regarded as a powerful leader among assassins.
One move.
Just one move.
He died by the knife.
The person who drew the knife was a guy who had almost no presence in the group of assassins.
This guy had delicate features, but he looked like he couldn't even kill a chicken. He seemed more like a sickly, pale ordinary person, with a detached look in his eyes and brows, posing no threat whatsoever.
No one reacted.
In this space, people were stunned.
A look of shock suddenly appeared in September's usually calm eyes.
The blonde girl's mind went completely blank; she stood there like a puppet.
Is he Ming Lingye?
That coward who usually lets others bully him and cowers in his room?
If we compare the Group A assassins to A-rank in a game, then September's group is C-rank. Ordinary assassins are even weaker, and Ming Lingye is at the bottom of the group.
And now, this person who was at the bottom has suddenly risen up.
The world suddenly realized the terror he had hidden.
Silence fell.
The remaining dozens of Group A assassins.
A string in my heart twitched, then snapped.
Takeru Hosaki is a top-tier fighter; few in Group A are willing to risk their lives for him, making victory a certainty.
Mingling Ye was able to kill him with a single blow.
It could also finish off the other powerful figures present.
Perhaps, it won't even require much effort.
Behind them, in the dense forest, the assassin who had originally planned to hide and lick his wounds had just been drawn by Ming Lingye's sudden action and stopped in his tracks.
Originally, he wanted to see what this guy was up to.
When he heard the words, "Now you can leave, this is mine," he thought the other person was a complete idiot.
Open provocation.
They probably won't even know how they died.
The assassin was stunned. He blinked and couldn't help but rub his eyes to convince himself that this wasn't a hallucination, but something that had really happened.
The passing of life is irreversible.
The burly men who had initially blocked Ming Lingye were now trembling, their minds filled with the thought, "How is this possible???"
He wanted to escape, but he knew that no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't outrun a knife.
It felt as if life was truly coming to an end with no turning back.
Jiang Cheng did not make trouble for him; an enemy as vile as a maggot was not worth the trouble.
He lowered his face slightly, his indifferent profile looking somewhat handsome, and reached out to grab the fine knife stuck in the grass under Hosaki Takeru's shoulder.
A casual stab.
The sharp tip of the sword pierced through the back of the opponent's head effortlessly from his eye.
Jiang Cheng lifted the corpse with one arm and the knife, then looked around.
Every eye that met his gaze could sense a cold, murderous aura; they could only look away and lower their heads.
"A nobleman of the Der Mu! A legitimate descendant!"
"Standing atop the palace, gazing upon your first in line to the throne!"
"Miss Demuel Ka-yin".
Jiangcheng declared word for word.
"We now invite you to join the Flower Slave Club!"
"Those who obey live, those who defy die..."
No one present had ever heard of this organization, but they had heard of Demu Jiaxian.
Nonsense, this is a club that Jiang Cheng just created on a whim three seconds ago.
It would be strange if anyone knew.
At this moment, Demu Jiaxian, who was burning incense and bathing in the main hall, was in a bath pool filled with pink petals.
Her graceful figure appeared and disappeared in the water.
Achoo!
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