Chapter 300 Heartbreak
As the two sides confronted each other deep in the dungeon, George suddenly shouted, "Run! Run to the entrance!"
Behind them was the iron cage holding the Black Dragon. The only exit was blocked by Henry. If they ran deeper into the dungeon, they would be caught and killed. George, with a determined heart, screamed and lunged forward, claws and teeth bared. He tightly grasped Henry's leg, aimed at his hand, and bit it hard.
"——you little bastard!"
Caught off guard, he actually caught the spy in his arms. The other children scurried away from him like a pack of nimble mice—their preparations weren't complete yet, and they couldn't let these brats tip them off and ruin their plans.
But there was a loud bang, and the dungeon door that was originally ajar suddenly closed without any wind, scaring the children who had run to the end of the passage and making them scream one after another.
The Knight Commander stood still and slowly withdrew his hand. Henry was stunned, then felt a sense of relief. This made things easier. If Jophiel Yialos really chose to rebel, not only would his subsequent plans not be implemented, but his life would likely be lost.
Without any worries, he could now focus on dealing with the little brat who had bitten his hand and made it bleed. The man grabbed George's hair and a dagger appeared in his hand. The cold, silver blade clearly reflected the boy's tearful, terrified and desperate face.
"You're brave, boy." The corners of "Henry"'s mouth twitched into a sinister grin. Like slaughtering livestock, he forced the other party to raise his head and aimed at the lamb-like thin neck, ready to cut it off: "But it's your own bad luck--!"
A hand suddenly grasped his dagger. The sharp blade immediately cut through the opponent's flesh, then got stuck in the metacarpal bone. Blood flowed down the tip of the sword, dripping onto the ground.
Henry's facial features twisted. "...Sir Yialos?"
The Knight Commander gripped his dagger tightly with his remaining left hand, the veins on the back of his hand bulging fiercely, the blade a fist's length from the boy's neck. His swaying hair obscured his face, making it hard to discern his emotions.
"They are still children," he said calmly.
"Varied--"
"Do not bully the weak, do not harm the defenseless, the innocent, women, and children." The Knight Commander slowly raised his head. The flickering oil lamp on the dungeon wall was reflected in his brown eyes, casting a hazy, light glow over his plain face. "This is the virtue a knight should uphold."
"...Are you kidding me?" The spy was silent for a moment, and finally couldn't help revealing a strange expression mixed with disbelief and absurdity.
"'Iron Curtain of the Royal Family,' Her Majesty's most capable lackey, over the years, haven't you ever killed innocent, defenseless people, or laid hands on women and children?" He looked at her like a madman. "Sir Yialos, how many times have you carried out orders to exterminate entire families? Haven't you killed enough young children, even infants?!"
Yialos didn't turn around. He didn't look at the children huddled together at the end of the corridor, shivering like terrified cubs, nor did he look at George's face, a mess of tears and snot. The boy, his hair pulled, his eyes blurred with tears, stared intently at the wound on the Knight Commander's hand, which was bleeding profusely.
"...This is Port Morris, not the Royal City," Jophiel Yialos whispered wearily. Somehow, he suddenly felt a strange sense of irony and amusement. "At least so far, besides loyalty, I've always been able to truly do what a knight should do here."
Humility, integrity, mercy, bravery, justice, honor... sacrifice. How ridiculous, a knight of the Empire, once personally conferred by Her Majesty the Queen, could only truly become a "knight" in the territory of a group of rebels.
The sarcastic and playful expression on "Henry's" face completely disappeared.
"Can I assume," he said slowly, his face darkening, "that you are truly willing to disobey the Queen's will for the sake of so-called... 'chivalry' and for these filthy, lowly bastards?"
The Knight Commander looked at him expressionlessly: "You cannot represent His Majesty's will."
The other party sneered, suddenly loosened his hand holding the boy's hair, slipped another dagger from his sleeve, pointed it at the boy's neck and was about to cut it without hesitation.
Ialos' pupils shrank violently, and almost instinctively, he yanked the dagger hard, and with a speed that ordinary people could hardly perceive, he thrust the tip of the sword directly into the spy's throat. George was also pulled over by him and thrown heavily behind him.
All this happened in a split second. By the time George came to his senses, "Henry" had collapsed, exhausted. Blood foam continued to pour out of the man's mouth. He gurgled in pain a few times, mumbling something, then his head tilted and he was dead.
The Knight Commander's expression was extremely grim.
Before dying, the other party was apparently talking to the person on the other end of the communication magic device, and the words he left behind were: "Jophiel Yialos, treason confirmed."
...No, Yialos thought in pain, fear, and confusion. He had never thought of betraying Her Majesty the Queen. He just thought that there might be other ways, ways that did not involve killing these children...
Her Majesty the Queen once severely reprimanded the Knight-Captain of the Kite Heart Guards for his occasional inexplicable and inappropriate indecision, claiming that this fatal flaw would one day kill him.
"—George!"
A group of trembling children rushed over, scrambling to help their fallen companion to his feet. Yialos instinctively looked towards them, only to be met with countless terrified gazes. Jim, the boy who had held his hand earlier, hid beside his companions, his small body still trembling, not even daring to lift his head.
Ialos would not confuse the spell, the spy was right, killing these children was the best option at the moment.
...If he were to destroy Port Morris and the People's Party, these children of the common people, the children of slaves, the children who were disdainfully called "dirty and lowly little bastards" - would also die miserably, at his hands.
—Hypocrisy, Jophiel Yialos, you are a hypocrite.
"Let's go." The dungeon door creaked slightly and opened. The Knight Commander closed his eyes and said coldly, "Before I change my mind."
The children carefully avoided the corpse and hurriedly crawled out of the bloody dungeon. George was the last one to come out. As he was about to crawl out, he looked back for some reason - the tall reflection of the one-armed man stood quietly in the flickering firelight on the dungeon wall, motionless, like a statue of a paladin.
The troublemakers had left the dungeon, and they would definitely call for help. Yialos knew he had to immediately dispose of Henry's body and leave before making any further plans.
But he remained motionless, instead he shouted coldly towards the depths of the dungeon: "Why don't you come out?"
With a sneer, the figure of the black-haired, brown-skinned assassin slowly emerged from the darkness.
Dark Warlocks possessed concealment abilities far exceeding those of their peers. If George hadn't revealed a hint of his presence when he was nearly killed, Ialos would have been completely unaware of the existence of another person in the dungeon.
"A bunch of idiots." Ole glanced at the Doom Lord's left leg and scoffed rudely, "Do you think we're fools who would fall in the same place a second time?"
It was enough to repair the dungeon once. He didn't want to run around the streets like a fool chasing dragons, and then be rescued by a giant dragon - his friend's Windrunner was as annoying as its owner, and he didn't want to be laughed at by the dragon.
Iyaros stared intently into the assassin's iron-blue eyes. As the leader of the People's Party's surveillance assassination unit, his presence meant that this incident was definitely related to the Ghost.
The Knight Commander tightened his grip on the dagger in his left hand little by little, and the wound deep enough to see the bone was still bleeding.
"Did he do this on purpose?" Yialos demanded sharply. Even though he didn't say it explicitly, both people present knew who "he" was referring to.
"Guess?" The assassin rolled his eyes at him in disgust.
You can guess why he arranged for a spy of such extreme and ruthless behavior to appear at this time and place; you can also guess why even a child could sneak into the dungeon that was used to imprison the once escaped dragon and should have been heavily guarded; or you can even guess why "Teacher Seth" had something urgent to do today... You can also guess at more clues, whether they are noticeable or not, coincidental or not, or simply wonder if he has even calculated the fickle meanness and greatness of mankind. The more you think about it, the more creepy it becomes.
The knight's chest heaved violently. Even though the man wasn't there, he still staggered back a step, his shoulder hitting the cold iron cage.
"I don't trust you, you lackey of the royal family," Orel said in a cold tone. "If it were my way of thinking, I would have chopped off your head long ago to prevent future troubles—but you know, no one can go against that guy's wishes."
"So whether you like it or not, whether it's a momentary rush of enthusiasm or a moment of heroic ambition," the assassin shrugged gleefully at his old rival, "at least now, in the eyes of your former employer, you are a traitor."
A fatal blow, a heart-piercing word.
At this time, the Knight Commander's face looked no different from that of a dead person.
The tyrant was still as terrifying as ever. Orel couldn't help but think resentfully that it was a good thing that he surrendered early in this life, otherwise he would probably be the one who was heartbroken now - although he didn't want to admit it, he really had to thank his good brother for this, his vision was really "wonderful"... no matter what kind of "vision" it was.
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