The great hall is silent!
Over seven hundred people bow their heads.
Covered in sweat.
Cold Nelson, radiating murderous intent, grips a sword in one hand. With every step he takes, the sound reverberates throughout the hall.
Like thunderclaps!
Seamus Sorset’s face shows a hint of mockery.
He takes this drunken opportunity to remove the puppet!
The opportunity was given, but so people truly don’t know how to cherish it.
"Master!"
Even if others remain silent, as the Senior Inspector, Dashiell Everhart must step forward to intervene!
The Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance is in ruins, now is not the ti to tear off masks.
The forr Master isn’t dead, establishing a new Master is already a rebellious act. If the Military Departnt True King assassinates the monarch in full view, what prestige remains for the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance?
It’s highly disadvantageous both inside and out!
An internal division will lead to a loss of cohesion, leaving the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance as nothing but scattered sand!
The news of the forr Master’s survival has already spread.
Countless eyes in the Martial Arts world are watching Demarco Mount, waiting to see how these ministers will choose.
Will they remain loyal to Demarco Mount’s legendary creation, or support the unjustly appointed new Master?
On this critical point, no accidents must occur.
The Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance’s status is too high, the pressure is imnse.
"Master! Today, the Military Departnt True King has drunk too much. In light of his achievents for the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance, please forgive him this once!" Dashiell Everhart finishes, then nudges the fellow Senior Inspector Jonathan Moore with his elbow.
Seated in the Senior Inspector position, he is astute.
Jonathan Moore imdiately steps forward, clasps his fists, and speaks with utmost respect: "West Sea was arrogant enough to kill our inspector. This ti, the Military Departnt True King personally led people to West Sea, achieving handso victories. Since we celebrate success, Demarco Mount should naturally reward him. Now, the True King drank a little to celebrate victory and spoke out of line. Why not offset his mistakes with his rits?"
Every chance to retreat has been offered.
The Military Departnt True King’s fa is renowned!
This battle, although for avenging his brother, was ostensibly fought for the inspector Jex Kensington, destroying West Sea.
Whether publicly or privately, this restores face for the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance.
The dignified inspector, a high-ranking official overseeing all directions, was killed. This has already challenged the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance’s authority!
Under the guise of forgiving the Military Departnt True King, it makes a plausible argunt both internally and externally.
After all, treating ritorious officials well is not inherently wrong.
Offering Cold Nelson an out helps alleviate the current awkwardness.
The harmonious effort by the two calms the senior mbers of the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance within the great hall.
"True King, although you have triumphed, this is still the front hall. The Master is holding a eting." Dashiell Everhart quickly walks over to placate Seamus Sorset: "Should the word spread, how would outsiders perceive us? Only by unity between monarch and minister can we intimidate foreign lands and silence the Martial Arts world’s tongues. If you provide fodder for criticism, it would be exceedingly disadvantageous!"
Upon emphasizing the phrase ’criticism,’ Dashiell Everhart deliberately heightens his tone.
All arrangents on both sides are fully prepared, just waiting for today’s eting to conclude and for Seamus Sorset to resolve privately.
Whether the Master contracts a bizarre illness, suddenly dying.
Or whether the abdication process is expedited.
That’s all the Military Departnt True King’s own business.
In any case!
Today cannot erupt with any disturbances.
"The Inspector has spoken. I was jubilant after conquering territories for the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance and indulged with a little drink. If I have offended, please Master forgive ."
Though Seamus Sorset drank heavily, he retains full awareness.
Cold Nelson, with his unjust standing, bears nurous burdens.
In the future, his abdication will be much easier.
Yet if today’s affair turns contentious, leading to an unending feud, then Seamus Sorset, who becos the Master with the infamy of regicide, would be crushed under the pressure!
Then, not to ntion external forces, internal resistance will be imnse!
Who will allow a regicide to beco the new leader?
For his bright future and Martial Arts world rumors, Seamus Sorset decides to temporarily endure.
But Cold Nelson offers no response, instead holding the sword as he descends further down the high steps.
"Master, Seamus Sorset has failed to understand his position. Hopefully, you won’t take offense."
Seamus Sorset coldly watches Cold Nelson, his face filled with murderous intent!
Understanding one’s position!
He spoke it for Cold Nelson to hear.
A re puppet!
Really considers himself the Master?
Yet Cold Nelson seems not to hear him, continuing to press closer.
Inside the great hall!
The atmosphere grows heavier and heavier.
The Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance mbers who had relaxed soon tense up again.
Jonathan Moore and Dashiell Everhart turn pale!
The steps were laid out, only to fall off and die?
Seeing Seamus Sorset grow angrier, Jonathan Moore decides to go straight up, blocking Cold Nelson’s path: "Master! The True King has admitted fault, please forgive."
In his impression, Cold Nelson is a clever man.
The reason for choosing him as a puppet is precisely due to his wisdom and understanding of advance and retreat.
But now, sothing seems amiss.
"Scram," Cold Nelson softly spits out a word.
"What?" Jonathan Moore is taken aback.
He stands in front of Cold Nelson, directly blocking the path.
The distance between them is just a ter.
The word ’scram,’ he hears clearly.
Yet it’s hard to believe.
This puppet...
Has gone mad?
Dares to speak to like this?
"I said," Cold Nelson raises his head, his eyes devoid of any black, looking at Jonathan Moore. "Scram."
Squelch!
The three-foot longsword in his hand!
Directly pierces through Jonathan Moore’s heart!
"Uh..." Jonathan Moore’s body shudders, eyes wide, lifting his hand incredulously.
But before the hand levels, Cold Nelson’s left hand presses on his face.
Gently pushes.
Thud!
Jonathan Moore, covered in blood, tumbles down the steps.
Deathly silence!
Drip.
A drop of blood that should have flowed within Jonathan Moore falls from the sword tip to the floor.
"Gulp..." Dashiell Everhart feels an icy chill down his back!
Sweat seeps atop his head.
Has he gone mad?
Instinctively, he retreats.
All Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance mbers present stare in shock.
It’s known among most that Cold Nelson is a puppet.
But today!
The puppet actually killed the one controlling it!
What will be the outco?
Would he rather die with dignity?
Or...
No or.
The Military Departnt True King is imnsely capable, and Cold Nelson is not his match.
In many eyes, there’s pity, there’s helplessness, as they watch the Master step by step descend the stairs.
Stepping over Jonathan Moore’s lifeless body, heading towards the Military Departnt True King.
"May I ask, why did the Master openly slaughter high officials of the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance?" Seamus Sorset’s eyes glead with amusent.
Jonathan Moore’s death allows him to kill Cold Nelson openly!
Removing an insane Master!
And then...
With legitimacy, ascend the throne!
Jonathan Moore’s death benefits him entirely—no downsides!
"Those who defy my orders, die."
Cold Nelson quickens his pace, heading straight for Seamus Sorset!
"The Master has gone mad, slaughtering skilled officials. As the Military Departnt True King, I should ensure everyone’s safety." Seamus Sorset grins.
He punches out!
Directly pierces Cold Nelson’s heart!
Shattering the bones in his chest cavity.
It’s over.
Next, he will ascend that throne.
Seamus Sorset already envisions these Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance mbers kneeling around him, bowing in submission.
Squelch!
But suddenly!
His body trembles!
A sharp sword pierces through his heart, erging from his back!
Seamus Sorset turns his head with difficulty, his mouth twitching uncontrollably!
The power within him drains away...
Cold Nelson fiercely draws out his weapon, pointing his sword to the sky!
After a brief silence.
"Long live the Master!"
The hall echoes with the roar of mountains and seas.
Seamus Sorset falls to the ground, dead.
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