Chapter 56

The cold blade pierced the skin, a brief chill followed by intense pain.

Tilrandt's eyes widened as he reached out to grab the assailant, but the other gave him no chance.

The blade was withdrawn, and the moment it left his body, blood splattered everywhere. Another wave of pain surged through his injured abdomen as Gesetz suddenly kicked him.

The force was swift and powerful.

Caught off guard, Tilrandt staggered backward until he fell to the ground.

The students of the Blood Flag Society regained their senses. Some drew their swords, while others hurried to support their leader.

"Ha ha ha ha ha..."

Gesetz pointed his short blade forward, the tip dripping with fresh blood. He raised his noble head and looked at the enraged students with a disdainful gaze.

"By the order of His Majesty the King, the ringleader of the rebellion has been eliminated. All accomplices who surrender their weapons will not be held accountable. If you resist, all will be executed for treason!"

His loud voice quickly spread through the crowd, and the threat of treason made their swords hesitate.

Hesitant faces, confused faces.

They were students, in the prime of their youth, pursuing their dreams. They were simply working hard to save their country.

Treason—

Could what we have done be wrong? Could all our efforts be in vain?

Could—

"Do not be used by those with ulterior motives. Please think carefully, is your behavior really correct?"

Gesetz sneered inwardly, but his words were gradually breaking down their resolve.

"You are the future of this country, with bright and promising futures ahead. Do you want to give up your future because of this and disappoint your families and friends who have high hopes for you?"

"If your goal is to save this country, what can this foolish act bring you? You will not succeed, because His Majesty the King will not let you succeed!"

"You will only taste the pain and regret of failure, because you will lose yourselves, your families and friends, and your future."

"Put down your weapons. Do you want to walk down the wrong path for others' selfish desires, and destroy yourselves for others' selfish desires?"

Silence fell over the crowd. Gesetz's questions echoed in their hearts, and they calmed down, questioning themselves.

Their ideals and beliefs, which had once been so strong, now seemed to be cracking and shattering.

"No! Our path is not wrong!"

Suddenly, a loud cry stopped all the cracks.

Tilrandt, supported by his fellow members, sneered. His hand, stained with blood, clutched his abdomen. He lifted his head and stared at Gesetz with unwavering determination in his eyes.

He pushed away the supporting hands of his members, and his body trembled, as if he might fall at any moment.

Slowly, he drew his long sword from his waist, gripped the hilt with both hands, and thrust it into the ground in front of him. The wound in his abdomen was pulled, and the pain acted like a wake-up call, sharpening his senses.

His breathing became weak, and his vision blurred.

In his ears, he seemed to hear the voices of everyone's inner thoughts.

They were hesitant and conflicted.

He began to laugh, a strained and wild laugh.

He turned to his members, to the crowd, and looked at everyone.

"You are not traitors, you have not done anything wrong, you are innocent!"

"The one who can judge us is not the king, the one who can decide our fate is not this country, the one who can judge us is only history!"

"History will remember today, remember all of us!"

"Before the kingdom falls, there was a group of people who tried to save this country. They knew their future, but they still moved forward without hesitation. Even if they failed, they wanted to awaken the slumbering country!"

"Because, no one loves this country more than we do, no one wants to save this country more than we do, and no one can stop the ideals and beliefs in our hearts!"

His trembling body, the sword he raised with all his strength, Tilrandt let out a deafening roar.

"Regret and pain are for the weak. We, who are willing to be the vanguard, will not fail, because! We will spread our will in the hearts of everyone!"

"Indifference and silence fill the world, but we shout! We raise our swords! We, rise up and fight!"

Different voices influenced different emotions, rising and falling.

"Nonsense!"

Behind Tilrandt, Gesetz laughed in anger.

"Tilrandt, who do you think you are? This country does not need you to change it. The only one who can save this country is His Majesty the King, and you are just a group of ignorant fools!"

"Blesser Gesetz!"

Tilrandt turned around, his face cold as he looked at Gesetz's actions.

"You do not have the right to judge us! In my eyes, you are just a mad dog barking at the king's feet!"

"Ha ha—"

Gesetz laughed with a dark face, licking the blood on his short blade.

"If I am a dog, then what are you? Just a group of meaningless people about to die!"

"Dead men?"

Tilrandt pointed his sword at Gesetz's head, his voice cold and icy: "Then you will become a dead dog before us!"

"Valdor! Kill him!"

As soon as the words were spoken, a figure in black robes suddenly appeared in front of Tilrandt, mysterious and eerie.

Before Gesetz could react, a suffocating feeling overwhelmed him, as his neck was tightly gripped by the strong hand of the black-robed figure.

His face was shocked and stunned, as if he couldn't believe the black-robed figure's sudden attack.

"I'm sorry, but you are going to die."

A hoarse, low voice slowly emerged from the black robes, and the threat of death instantly cleared Gesetz's mind. Without hesitation, he stabbed the black-robed figure with his short blade.

"Clang—"

The sound of metal hitting the ground, it was Gesetz's short blade.

Gesetz cried out in pain, the intense pain in his wrist making it impossible to hold the blade. He couldn't see the attack, and before he could react, his wrist felt as if it had been struck by lightning, forcing him to release the blade.

Breathing became more difficult, and the suffocation grew stronger.

His eyes bulged, and his mouth opened wide.

Suddenly, the grip on his neck loosened, and the strong hand disappeared. Gesetz, kneeling on the ground, gasped for air, as if trying to make up for the lost breath.

"Who are you?"

The black-robed figure looked at the person in front of him, his low voice filled with curiosity.

"Who I am is not important. What is important is that I cannot let you kill him."

The voice was calm, as if discussing a common matter.

"What if I insist on killing him?" the black-robed figure asked lightly.

"Then, if you can kill me first."

The speaker was the unremarkable coachman who drove the royal carriage.

"The power of the royal family is indeed everywhere. I didn't expect a mere coachman to have such strength," the black-robed figure sneered.

"Our duties have no high or low, only different roles," the coachman said calmly.

"Do you need to intervene for a dog?" the black-robed figure asked.

"To the king, he is a good dog. The king loves dogs, so I must protect them," the coachman replied.

"You—"

Enraged by the insult, Gesetz pointed at the coachman, about to scold him, but suddenly felt a pain in his neck and lost consciousness, collapsing to the ground.

The coachman shook his head, as if sighing.

"Ha ha, it seems this duty is not as pleasant as you imagined," the black-robed figure laughed, seeing the coachman knock out Gesetz.

"Being bitten by a dog, one must do something," the coachman said indifferently.

"Being stepped on by a dog, and you do nothing?" the black-robed figure sneered.

The coachman knew what he meant, but he was unmoved: "I am just doing my duty as a coachman."

To make oneself unnoticed? The black-robed figure thought. Indeed, someone who could be a secret pawn of the king was no ordinary person. Before he acted, the coachman had shown no signs of being different.

When he did act, his speed was as fast as lightning, not inferior to the black-robed figure at all.

"Is there a problem?"

Noticing the unexpected situation, Tilrandt staggered to the black-robed figure's side and asked softly.

"If you want to kill them, it will take a lot of time," the black-robed figure said seriously.

Tilrandt, breathing heavily and pale, sighed and looked at the coachman who had intervened: "May I ask your name?"

"Benio."

"Mr. Benio, please tell His Majesty the King that if he abandons the entire kingdom for the throne, is it worth it? Which is more important, personal desire or the future of the kingdom... Take him and go."

After speaking, Tilrandt closed his eyes, his strength seemingly drained, and his body swayed. The black-robed figure quickly supported him.

"Get someone to bandage his wound!"

Seeing the concerned and urgent members of the Blood Flag Society take him, the black-robed figure said in a low voice.

He cannot die yet; he still has a task to complete.

Coachman Benio lifted Gesetz by the collar and slowly walked toward the carriage, his face expressionless as he glanced at the crowd one last time.

The wheels rolled, and the carriage gradually disappeared into the unknown.

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The Three Rivers said the quota was limited, so it was moved to the Potential List. Let's see what the result will be next week.

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