Chapter 1

In the battlefield, where corpses were scattered and blood flowed like rivers, flocks of crows fearlessly gathered, competing for the fresh flesh and blood in this natural feast. Almost instantly, the ominous black color became the only dominant hue on the battlefield, apart from the blood—amidst this interplay of red and black, a half-burned, emerald-green battle flag with a jade flower emblem stood out jarringly, glaringly out of place.

Pant, pant...

Dean's breathing was like a broken windbox, struggling to draw in a bit of oxygen for his lungs. Yesterday, his bowstring and bow had snapped, and after four days of battle, his scarred armor had just lost its defensive capability, along with his broken longsword.

He casually tossed the broken sword aside.

Now, Dean held only the emerald flower battle flag.

Gripping the flagpole tightly, the exhausted Dean struggled to keep the flag from falling to the ground before he collapsed. As for the soldiers gradually surrounding him, he ignored them—those who had followed him and those he had followed, all had fallen in the decade-long series of battles, except for him.

And now, these still-moving soldiers were all his enemies.

"Dean Ken, the lone wolf of Hagaslo... What a chilling title! You know, we didn't have to come to this!"

A middle-aged man in full armor stepped forward, standing less than ten yards from Dean. He shook his head in admiration, his voice full of pity—his neatly groomed hair, clean-shaven chin, and current expression of pity made him seem like the epitome of a gentleman and a knight.

In fact, the man had a more illustrious identity: the King of Gosa, the successor of the Conqueror King—these were his titles and his reputation.

Of course, these were not important to Dean. Dean only needed to remember that this man was his enemy—the one he hated the most among countless enemies.

"Remember? When we first met, we had a very pleasant conversation, and I even invited you to be my guard!"

The pitying voice continued until it was interrupted by anger.

"I am very glad I didn't accept, and I despise the moment of hesitation I had back then!"

Dean's eyes locked onto the man, filled with nothing but rage and the intent to kill.

"Glad? Glad about your current situation?"

The middle-aged man straightened his posture, raising his arms as if embracing victory. He looked around at the battle that had just ended and laughed, full of disdain: "A force of 1,500 men against my three legions—truly, it's like a mantis trying to stop a cart, overestimating your own strength!"

"What gave you the confidence? Was it your ruthless assassinations? Or... that woman!" He paused deliberately, watching Dean's growing anger, and then laughed loudly: "A woman who hasn't been forgotten even in death, the Duchess of Emerald—she should be able to rest in peace now, shouldn't she?"

"Tsk, I forgot, as one of the killers, I have no right to say such things!"

Suddenly, as if remembering something, the middle-aged man patted his forehead, feigning an apologetic look. However, the contempt in his eyes clearly showed his insincerity. He was savoring the joy of victory after a war, not a true celebration, but like an appetizer before a grand meal, this man was the perfect choice.

"Yes, it was me, the King of Siti, and the twelve high priests of the Church's Dark Hall... We all worked together to eliminate that woman, that woman who was such a hindrance!" The middle-aged man hesitated for a moment before finishing his sentence. However, he did not hear the expected roar of anger and looked in shock at the man who was almost out of strength.

"I know!"

Dean gave the answer he had prepared since the start of the war—a black, glowing crystal in his hand.

"You!!"

The always composed middle-aged man changed color for the first time, his face turning pale as he stared at Dean in horror. Then, he turned and ran.

"It's no use, the ground within a ten-kilometer radius is filled with explosive crystals; my men and I were all bait—unfortunately, I only lured you..."

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The intense explosions drowned out Dean's final words. In the first moment of the explosion, Dean was engulfed by the flames, and the fleeing middle-aged man, after only three seconds, with all his defensive magic items depleted, met the same fate.

They were shattered to pieces!

Of course, the soldiers around the middle-aged man were also shattered to pieces—Dean had exchanged all his wealth for these explosive crystals, and the quantity was originally intended for all his enemies. Now, with only one side coming, they bore the full brunt, and they were dead beyond any doubt.

Within a hundred kilometers, the land was scorched and lifeless.

...

Page flip, AD starts

Page flip, AD ends