The boy was sowhat tired. The staircase within the spiral corridor seed endless, as though it had no end. He leaned against a column, clutching the Secret Sword in his hand.
The sweeping gale blew away the scent of blood from the tip of his nose as the boy looked down at the stairs below. Many corpses lay sprawled across the staircase; they had all been slain during their escape by sword strikes from behind. Judging by the wounds, the sword strikes seed sothing beyond what any human could achieve, effortlessly severing limbs as though people were as fragile as a thin sheet of paper.
From the distant ground ca tremorous sounds, and the cries and wails of the people grew ever clearer.
The survivors had evaded the monster’s pursuit, descending the spiral corridor to the ground. They wanted to escape this Pillar of Death, but only then did they realize all exits were sealed shut.
The gates were tightly closed, riddled with locks, and molten iron was poured into the gaps. No matter how they hamred, they couldn’t budge it in the slightest. As a result, everyone gathered on the Triumphal Avenue.
This was an avenue steeped in honor and history. In the past years of the Empire, whenever there was a victory in war, the decorated soldiers would march down this broad avenue to receive accolades from the King.
Now, this avenue that was never closed was sealed off, the massive gate completely blocking the way. What was supposed to defend against enemies now sealed the people’s escape. The mass of humanity gathered before the gate, their piercing cries rattling against it. Beyond the gate, plenty of soldiers had long been stationed there.
Clad in Iron Armor and holding weapons, the soldiers showed no intention of rescue despite the countless pleas for help. They turned their backs on everything, indifferent to the massacre behind the gate. On the contrary, they were a part of this massacre.
"Check all the bodies. We can’t let a single one go."
A cruel, icy voice rang out among the soldiers as a man strolled across the grass around them.
Those who had fallen to their deaths lay there, shattered and broken. Organs and brain matter were scattered across the ground, and steamy air rose from the corpses. The man’s gaze, cold as ice, swept across these bodies even as more screaming people fell from the sky, dying upon impact around him.
"Help ..."
A plea for help arose. It was a fortunate fellow; he had rely broken a leg, the fractured bone piercing through his skin, causing him enough pain to nearly faint. He saw the man and recognized him, overjoyed.
"Second Seat!"
As if grasping a lifeline, he loudly begged, "Help ! Second Seat!"
The Second Seat recognized the man as well. The fortunate one was a mber of the Royal Family, though not a direct bloodline, but significant nonetheless, probably holding an important position in so agency.
The Second Seat smiled, raised his hand—and chopped off the fortunate one’s head with his sword.
Up to the very mont of his death, he couldn’t believe the Second Seat would strike him. Had the King’s Secret Sword betrayed the Royal Family?
The head rolled onto the blood-soaked grass, and the soldiers swallowed hard. The actions of the Second Seat undoubtedly amounted to treason. Not just the Second Seat, but their deeds and all those present here could be deed treasonous.
A stern voice rang out again.
"I’ll reiterate: until that gate opens again, anyone attempting to flee the Pillar of Royal Authority, regardless of who they are, what blood runs in them, or what rank they hold, will be executed on the spot."
A dreadful pressure emanated from the Second Seat, making him seem, for a mont, like so kind of terrifying monster. No soldier could refuse his orders, so when the surviving falls scread, the soldiers all thrust out Long Spears, pinning him to the spot. So soldiers even began inspecting the corpses, swinging swords to sever their heads, ensuring they were utterly dead.
Beyond the towering gates of Triumphal Avenue, even more harrowing screams arose, as if the monster had caught up to the crowd. The sound of tal tearing through flesh drowned out the countless wails, reaching outside the gate with terrifying clarity.
The soldiers trembled at such cries, as though the world beyond the gate had beco a tangible Hell, with only a wall separating them from it.
Blood seeped out from beneath the gate, flowing like streams beneath everyone’s feet, as continuous scraping of tal echoed. The soldiers could envision the scene, that monster wielding the sword, piercing through flesh and bone, the tip of the sword striking the gate, slowly carving deep grooves.
The lantations gradually faded away until there was silence.
The Second Seat looked up, gazing at this miraculous great building.
The Pillar of Royal Authority.
After six days of revelry, this feast concluded with the seventh day’s bloody massacre.
As one of the orchestrators of this bloody night, the Second Seat knew well the extent of the tragedy within the Pillar of Royal Authority, yet he felt no panic. Instead, he thought the Pillar of Royal Authority would embrace a new tomorrow... or perhaps no tomorrow at all.
The Second Seat felt sowhat troubled. After tonight, the Kagader Royal Family might beco history. Just thinking of the disputes this fact would cause made the Second Seat feel as though blood was flowing on his skin, thick and tallic in scent.
This might incite a rebellion of the King’s Secret Sword, and he himself might be executed as a traitor. Not only that, but the entire Empire could fall apart, undone by ceaseless civil war.
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