Explosions rock Axel City, disrupting a fragile peace. Harrington and Boris depart to investigate the blasts, unaware Vardy and his men have been lured away. Meanwhile, Sophia prepares to confront Boris, frustrated by Renji's absence. Harrington faces Renji and another powerful cultivator, leading to a tense standoff.
“A substantial reward is the most appealing thing to me. I merely need to defeat and slay you, and my sect will be blessed with immeasurable riches, enough to last for 10,000 years. How could I possibly forgo such a magnificent bounty?” Harrington drew his greatsword, his gaze sharp as he fixed it upon the two opponents. “The greatest reward you shall receive today is your own demise.” Harrington unleashed his terrifying killing intent. He was aware that his killing intent alone was potent enough to obliterate ordinary citizens. However, in this moment, such concerns were irrelevant. His sole focus was on eradicating the scoundrel who dared to provoke him and endanger his family. He harbored a glimmer of hope that while he engaged these adversaries, his family’s troops would succeed in evacuating the civilians from the vicinity, thereby minimizing casualties. “We shall see,” Renji responded with a laugh, producing a dark spear, his chosen weapon. “Do not grow too arrogant. This is Malakor Harrington,” uttered the hitherto silent member of the organization. Renji had spent the preceding 20 hours in the company of this individual. He recognized that this man spoke only when absolutely essential. If he offered a warning, it demanded serious consideration. Harrington paused, taking a moment to scrutinize the enigmatic man. “What is your name?” He felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, his voice resonating with something known. “You would not believe me even if I revealed it,” the man replied in a frigid tone. This response caused Harrington to narrow his eyes, observing the man in silence for a few seconds, just as he noticed Renji attempting to seize the opportunity for an attack. With his greatsword, Harrington effortlessly parried the incoming strike. Clang! “Sect Leader, you remain too inexperienced.” A few hundred years prior, the two had clashed fiercely during a competition that devolved into chaos when one of his sect’s disciples had shown profound disrespect and offered insults to the entire Harrington family. Back then, Malakor and Renji had fought to a standstill, and Malakor Harrington had nearly slain the Sect Leader were it not for the intervention of his son-in-law. “You old fool, why don’t you just perish?” Renji’s subsequent barrage of attacks mirrored his frustration and fury at being labeled inexperienced by Harrington. He was the proud leader of a formidable sect, yet in Harrington’s presence, he invariably felt outclassed. The disparity in their skills felt akin to the difference between a adolescent and a mature adult. But Harrington, with practiced ease, blocked and deflected every single assault from Renji. After a period, Renji regained his composure and retreated to a distance of approximately 100 meters from Harrington. “Brother, did we not agree to face Harrington together?” He refrained from phrasing it in a manner that suggested anger or a complaint about fighting Malakor solo. He meticulously maintained a neutral tone, lest the mysterious organization member, who seemed to share a connection with Harrington, perceive him as displeased. “My apologies!” The mysterious man calmly advanced and positioned himself beside Renji. “To invoke a specific passive skill, I must recite an incantation for 30 seconds.” Previously, this entire incantation process took upwards of 150 seconds. However, through diligent training, he had managed to reduce the duration to a mere 30 seconds. “Is it ready, then?” Renji inquired hopefully. In his current state, he could, at best, contend with Harrington for merely a few minutes before being overwhelmed, or even less if Harrington decided to engage him seriously. “It is ready.” “Your only end today shall be death.” Harrington adopted a relaxed posture and simultaneously activated several passive skills. “Sophia, would you perhaps enlighten me on the organization’s plans for this evening?” Boris settled himself upon the flat rooftop. Before engaging in combat, he wished to pose a few questions, hoping to glean some answers from her. Sophia had been awaiting his arrival when he reached this location. “Your Majesty, I am unable to comply. However, should you falter in this encounter, I shall have no objection to answering three of your questions before dispatching you.” “Little girl of the Night Rider Sect, you have certainly become more audacious since our last meeting.” Boris had first encountered Sophia when she was merely 11 years old. Regardless of her current standing or status, in his eyes, she would forever remain the young girl he had seen all those years ago. The reason for his enduring memory of her childhood was her innate cold demeanor and her exceptional talent. Regrettably, she became an asset to a neighboring Kingdom that subsequently crumbled just a few centuries after their encounter. Sophia did not react with anger. She felt that if anyone possessed the right to address her in such a manner, it was Boris. Despite their adversarial positions, Sophia held profound respect and admiration for this legendary figure. “It is a profound pity that we stand on diametrically opposed sides of history.”
"Leave the Organization." Boris casually suggested, though he harbored no naive expectation of her immediate defection.
"The Organization has been intrinsically linked with my existence since I was twelve. My loyalty and bond to it surpass even that I hold for my own Night Rider Sect." It was only within the last few centuries that she had taken on a part-time capacity within the Organization. This shift was primarily due to Leo's directive for her to prioritize her cultivation and her responsibilities as Sect Leader over missions that other members could adequately undertake for the Organization.
"A regrettable pity." In less than a second, a crimson light coalesced in his left palm, swiftly transforming into the shape of a sword, and finally materializing as a formidable red greatsword.
'This must be the renowned [REDACTED].' Observing the blade firsthand, she noted its striking appearance.
While the sword itself was a seven-star weapon, not inherently extraordinary, its profound renown stemmed from its lifelong wielder, Boris. The sword's legendary status was known throughout the main continent's major powers.
Boris rose, grasping the Devil Sword. "You see, I was teetering on the precipice of demise. Nature's course would have claimed my life within a few decades, even in my slumber. Then, my grandson appeared, illuminating the vast spectrum of life's experiences I was still overlooking."
"I have diligently shielded my grandson from those harboring malevolent intentions towards him." Boris eagerly anticipated the future his grandson would forge. In his estimation, Aditya possessed a talent and capability as Emperor that surpassed his own. Based on the fragments of knowledge he had gathered, Boris found himself increasingly intrigued by the transformations his grandson would inevitably introduce to the world.
Furthermore, his affection for Aditya far outweighed that for Ren. Despite Ren being the offspring of his cherished son, it was Aditya who captured his heart and garnered more tenderness. Ren's reprehensible actions against his own kin had eroded the vestiges of any lingering sentiment Boris held for his other grandson.
"What do you mean Vardy is absent?" The maid quaked under Wahid's severe scrutiny.
"Sir, mere moments ago, Commander Vardy received intelligence regarding a charging horde of magical beasts. He has consequently led the bulk of the Harrington family's army to confront this threat."
Upon hearing this, Athena became convinced it was a ruse orchestrated to lure Vardy and a significant portion of the troops away from the city.
"It was a trap."
"I am certain Commander Vardy has by now recognized the deception. However, ensnared by this inexplicable barrier, he is rendered incapable of returning to the city." A grim pallor settled upon everyone's countenances. The predicament was significantly more dire than initially conceived.
They found themselves immured within their own stronghold.
The Organization's machinations had been meticulously executed.
Wahid could not dispute Athena's assessment, particularly given their prior knowledge, imparted by Aditya, of the Organization's propensity for deploying infiltrators. It was highly probable that operatives loyal to the Organization were embedded within the Harrington family ranks.
"Why did Vardy not relay this information to you?" Aditya inquired.
"Given Axel City's geographical context, we are accustomed to repelling assaults from the Horde of Magical Beasts, often occurring nightly. Rather than expending precious time on notifications, I had instructed Commander Vardy to preemptively engage the horde and neutralize the threat swiftly to minimize potential casualties."
"I could never have foreseen the Organization exploiting this vulnerability," Wahid lamented with a tone of regret.
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My sincere gratitude extends to all who have offered their support through invaluable golden tickets and gifts. Let us endeavor to sustain this momentum!
