The three words came out of Kayden’s mouth, and the room fell into stunned silence. Kill… Kill Cyrus Nightbane!
For most ordinary cultivators, this was a thought too absurd to even entertain. Yet this young man had spoken it aloud, as if it was an inevitability. Who was this person? A reckless young master from some arrogant family? Clearly not.
But could he defeat Cyrus Nightbane?
No! That was obvious. He couldn’t. This man was only in his twenties. Even if he were an advanced cultivator, how could he possibly be a match for Cyrus Nightbane?
“Hahaha! Hahahahaha!” Cyrus Nightbane burst out laughing, his expression shifting slightly as his voice dropped to a low, menacing tone. “What a coincidence. I’m here to kill you too.”
Beside Kayden, Wood Faulkner drew his twin blades and stood abruptly, his face dark with anger as he glared at Cyrus Nightbane.
“Gentlemen, can’t you settle this outside?” Liam Rocco, a member of the Rocco family, shouted nervously as he glanced at the two men who were about to clash. “Mr. Nightbane, you’re not exactly young anymore. Do you really have to make trouble for the Rocco family? The auction may be over, but this brother here hasn’t even paid yet. If you kill him, where am I supposed to get my money?”
“Shut your filthy mouth!” Cyrus Nightbane roared as he cut him off. A moment later, something shot from his hand and struck Liam Rocco square in the chest. It was like a bullet, piercing straight through him. Liam collapsed to one knee, writhing in pain.
“Cyrus Nightbane, how dare-”
Before Liam could finish his sentence, Cyrus raised a black orb, silencing him with a warning. “If you say one more word, this one won’t miss your heart. I’ll pierce it without hesitation.”
Liam dared not speak again. The Rocco family’s guards, standing nearby, didn’t dare take a step forward either.
“Everyone, listen to me!” Cyrus Nightbane suddenly bellowed, his voice booming through the hall. He raised a token in his hand. It bore the imprint of a claw-a distinctive symbol of the Cultivators’ Guild.
Anyone who saw that token and was part of the guild would have no choice but to obey its command.
At the sight of the token, all the cultivators in the hall stood up in unison and shouted, “Yes, sir!”
Cyrus pointed at Kayden and sneered, “The man before you is a wicked demon! Just a few days ago, he exterminated the Five Ghosts and annihilated The Nightshade. His actions have drawn the wrath of Lord Asher Voss. Now, by the orders of Lord Voss, he is to be executed! Whoever kills him will earn a place under Lord Voss and be granted Dragon Blood!”
The hall shuddered at these words. Everyone froze, staring at the young man in his twenties. Could this really be true? Had he slain the Five Ghosts and destroyed The Nightshade? Such feats were unimaginable for most.
But even amidst their shock, the allure of joining Asher Voss and gaining Dragon Blood was too great. For cultivators, this was a temptation few could resist. One by one, they drew their weapons, ready to strike Kayden down.
Wood Faulkner scanned the room, his gaze passing over the armed cultivators. His anger boiled over. On the battlefield, there had always been an iron rule: anyone who dared to raise their weapons against the commander would face death, without exception. That rule had been made to deter enemies, yet now a group of ignorant fools had turned their weapons against the hero of this land.
Wood’s heart grew cold. Very cold.
Gritting her teeth, she spoke with a chilling voice. “I’ve never seen anything so absurd. Do you even know who you’re pointing your weapons at?”
“The ground you’re standing on, the peace you enjoy, the lives you live without fear-all of it was secured by this man, with his blood and flesh. Without him, do you think you’d have your safety? Your carefree lives? Your peace? If not for him, the wolves beyond the border would have trampled Seclela long ago. And yet, instead of gratitude, you point your blades at the king who defended your land.”
The King Who Guards the Land.
Her words carried weight, piercing the hearts of many. Could this young man really be the legend of the battlefield?
Cultivators, who were privy to the affairs of Seclela, knew well of the upper echelons of power. They had all heard the stories: the lone blade hanging from the border city’s gates, deterring countless wolves from advancing.
Cyrus Nightbane laughed again-wildly, madly. After a moment, his laughter subsided into a sigh. “The King Who Guards the Land? Wasn’t he stripped of his position? Can he still command an army of a million? No, he can’t!”
“Yes, he was once a king of the battlefield, a general who defended the gates. But after offending Lord Asher Voss, he was dismissed. Now, he’s nothing more than a relic clinging to his past glory.”
“The truth is simple: in the face of Lord Voss, no king matters. No king can stand against him. Anyone who dares to oppose Lord Voss will meet only one fate: death!”
Cyrus’s voice rang out triumphantly. The cultivators around him straightened their spines, their confidence renewed.
At that moment, Kayden rose slowly to his feet. His calm gaze swept over the crowd of hostile cultivators. His voice was steady as he spoke. “You are all innocent. I’ll give you one minute. If you don’t want to die, step over to my side. Otherwise, in a moment, this place will be awash in blood.”
“The timer starts now.”
He pulled out his phone and pressed the countdown. His composure was unnerving, as if the people before him were nothing more than ants.
Cyrus chuckled coldly. “This entire hall is filled with my people. Do you really think one empty threat will change anything? Kid, you’re too young. Let me tell you, no one here will submit to you. Anyone who stands with you is defying Lord Voss. You underestimate his power.”
This was a battle of allegiances, a clash of forces. Everyone understood the stakes. Kayden’s talk of rivers of blood was dismissed as empty bravado. His true aim was to recruit a few allies.
Would anyone step forward? To do so would mean opposing Asher Voss-a risk no one dared to take.
But then, an elderly voice broke the silence. “It’s time to repay our debt.”
Zack Alfredson stepped forward from the corner of the hall, walking steadily to Kayden’s side. “Mr. Scott, the Alfredson family stands with you.”
Kayden looked at Zack Alfredson, his expression devoid of gratitude. Instead, there was only relief-for when the bloodbath began, Zack Alfredson would not be among the slaughtered.