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92.
Maxime pointed toward the North with a trembling finger. "Tonight, the Northern Iron Cavalry will undoubtedly lose its commander-in-chief, whilst his rightful heir is now nothing more than a cripple fighting for his life against poison! Those thirty thousand heavy cavalry troops are now nothing but a giant, headless serpent. Without logistical supplies from the capital, they will starve, panic and lose their way! They will be very fortunate indeed if they can even stabilise that colossal force to prevent them from mutinying and slaughtering one another right outside the imperial walls!” A suffocating silence blanketed the subterranean chamber for several seconds. Emperor Aldous stared blankly at Maxime, his mind spinning at full speed to process every single word from the assassin. Slowly, the deathly pallor and terror on the tyrant's face began to fade, replaced by the flushed red hue of an overwhelming relief. The corners of Emperor Aldous's lips twitched, slowly curving
91.
"Your Majesty... You have absolutely no need to tremble in fear of that brat!" Maxime's hoarse voice suddenly exploded, shattering the panic of the tyrant who was on the verge of losing his mind. Upon the blood-soaked stone floor, Maxime forced himself to look up. Although his face behind the iron mask was as deathly pale as a corpse, his eyes instead gleamed with a fiercely satisfied cruelty. He flashed a savage grin, revealing rows of teeth stained red with blood. Emperor Aldous halted his steps. The ruler's still-trembling hands tightly gripped his royal robes as he turned, glaring at the shadow assassin with a deeply furrowed brow. "What do you mean?! You just said he shattered a Rank-7 heirloom and slaughtered your men like insects! How could I not—" "Because, in truth, he and his sister are already half-dead, Your Majesty!" Maxime cut in quickly, panting heavily as he endured the pain from the wounds all over his body. "His sword slash was indeed terrifying, but our
90.
Maxime did not answer. He only bowed his head deeply, his chest heaving violently as he tried to gulp down as much oxygen as possible. Blood dripped from between his torn fingers. His dented iron mask reflected the room's torchlight gloomily. "Answer me, Maxime!" shouted Emperor Aldous, his face turning deathly pale as he saw that his elite assassin's right arm was completely severed from the shoulder joint. "Where is Theodore Cordova's head?! Where is the proof that the heir of the North is dead?!" "He... he is a monster, Your Majesty..." Maxime's voice sounded so hoarse and fragile, as if his entire soul had been shattered that night. "We... we failed." "Failed?!" That single word exploded like thunder in the Emperor's ears. Aldous stepped back, his foot stumbling over the glass shards. The old tyrant's face flushed a deep crimson from a combination of unbridled rage and indescribable fear. "You brought ten high-level shadow assassins, and you yourself are a Rank-7 Gra
89.
"Let the Emperor believe that I was severely injured by the clash of energy, and that Commander Serena is dying, clinging to her last breaths due to an incurable poison. Block all communications from this camp. I want to ensure that the news of our full recovery does not leak to anyone's ears whatsoever!" Serena smirked, her fighting spirit instantly igniting. "Feigning weakness to lure the enemy out. If that old Emperor thinks I am dying and you are crippled, he will definitely lower his guard. He will likely open the city gates and send out a light cleanup crew to finish us off and claim our heads, instead of hiding behind his walls." "And when those open gates reveal their foolish troops expecting an easy victory, they will only be greeted by thirty thousand Iron Cavalrymen starving for blood, storming right into the capital, led by the heir of the North who is in peak condition," Theodore concluded in a low, resonant voice. Angela stared at Theodore with unconcealed admira
88.
"Postpone our plan to return to the Northern Fortress! Prepare the vanguard for a sudden strike tonight!" Theodore suddenly commanded, his voice slicing through the cheers of thousands of cavalrymen like a sharp whip. Kael, who was issuing instructions for the area's cleanup, instantly froze. Serena, having just received a thick cloak from her guard, also turned her head with a furrowed brow. "Postpone our return? Brother, have you gone mad?" Serena protested, her voice still a bit weak yet resolute. "These thirty thousand troops have been stationed outside the main base for far too long, and our logistics are incredibly thin. We are currently right outside the imperial capital's walls! Launching a sudden attack on the Emperor's stronghold without proper siege preparations is suicide!" Kael immediately stepped forward, saluting by placing a clenched fist over his chest. "Young Master, Commander Serena is right. Tonight, we have successfully thwarted the Emperor's assassination a
87.
"The Salvador family possesses wealth, an information network in the capital, and political legitimacy; our core family is also skilled in medical arts. Unfortunately, we do not have a military. The Cordova Clan possesses the strongest Iron Cavalry on this continent, yet you are constantly suppressed politically and lack logistics. If we do not unite tonight, the King will destroy us one by one!" Hearing such a bold political declaration from a young girl, the cavalry officers stood frozen in silence. Serena was silent for a long time. Her sharp eyes traced every inch of Angela's face, searching for lies, hesitation, or hidden motives. The commander then looked down, staring at the small crystal bottle that now lay empty on the dusty ground. That bottle was the vessel for the Emerald Sylph's Tear. "Brother," Serena called out without turning her head. "How severe was my poison wound earlier?" "If that poison wasn't neutralized in less than five minutes, your heart would
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