On the next day, at the western entrance of Caritas City, a group of ten figures stood silently, observing the bustling activities of the people. They did not speak, only turning their heads occasionally to glance at the passersby.
Their gazes then shifted into the distance, where the remains of destroyed flying fortresses lay scattered. Many corpses were being tended to by volunteers, while others searched for treasures among the wreckage.
With such a large army, there must have been many valuable artifacts, and the people were trying to scavenge whatever they could. When so representatives of the populace attempted to et with Aldrian to ask what should be done with the area where the flying fortresses had fallen, they instead t a female elf.
The female elf, who seed to be part of the sa group as their city lord, permitted them to take anything they could find from the remains at the site.
To Sylphia, she knew that nothing in that area would interest Aldrian, if there had been anything valuable to him, he would have taken it long before.
Since then, many people had gathered at the site, searching for any valuable items they could find. Their efforts were not in vain, as the massive army of the Second Prince had been laden with treasures. Even the armor worn by the troops was considered an artifact, ranging from earth-grade at the lowest to heaven-grade. For most, such an opportunity was impossible to pass up.
An old man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, looked at the scene speechlessly. He knew exactly what kind of debris lay in that area—it was the wreckage of a flying fortress. From the looks of it, there was more than one, and judging by the sheer number of corpses being gathered, tens of thousands had perished.
At this mont, he finally understood that the Second Prince had already sent his troops here. However, it seed they had been annihilated before they could even reach the city.
The old man then stopped a passerby who was also heading toward the wreckage.
"Excuse , young man, but what happened here? Did the Second Prince attack the city? Why are there so many corpses and even destroyed flying fortresses?" he asked.
The young man stopped in his tracks, looking at the old man for a mont before tilting his head.
"Ah, you must have just arrived, old man. Let tell you—yesterday was a day I will never forget in my life. Our new city lord is an unstoppable force, I tell you! It was like a god had descended, his golden light obliterating the entire army of the Second Prince. At that mont, he unleashed the most beautiful yet most destructive sword technique I have ever seen," he said, his expression filled with fanatic admiration.
"At first, the Second Prince ca to attack this city with four flying fortresses and tens of thousands of troops. They were completely determined to kill our city lord or even destroy the city itself—going so far as to fire their lightning cannons." His face showed fear, but then his expression shifted.
"But then, sothing incredible happened. He blocked that lightning cannon and then, he unleashed that golden light."
"He cut through four flying fortresses with ease, as if they were re paper, and killed tens of thousands of troops. The entire city trembled because of it, and even our swords were pulled into the sky, filling it with countless floating blades. It’s a pity you arrived a day late, old man—if not, you would have witnessed that spectacular sight." The young man sighed.
"To think that our city lord is the mysterious swordsman... It truly feels both incredible and prideful."
He then glanced at the old man. "Anyway, I have to go. I’ll be late if I don’t hurry." With that, he continued walking toward the wreckage.
Hearing the young man’s words, the old man and his group could only stare after him in silence. Finally, one of the n in the group spoke.
"Doesn’t that an... what we saw yesterday was the sword technique of this mysterious swordsman? But—" He trailed off, his gaze shifting toward the scene of destruction before them.
"To think that even the flying fortresses ended up like that... Truly incredible."
While they were still in the nearest town to Caritas, waiting for nightfall to continue their journey, they all saw a golden light on the horizon. A brilliant pillar of gold shot into the sky before suddenly plumting in a single direction. They watched in awe, clearly recognizing it as so kind of golden pillar, and wondered what had happened—especially since it ca from Caritas’ direction.
"All of you, let’s go in. We’ll settle inside the city first. I will speak with the person arranging our shelter," the old man said.
This old man was none other than Arson Vuran, and the figures accompanying him were the Nine Fingers of the Thunderous Shadow Pavilion. Arson had not revealed his slave status to the others until today. Of course the only ones aware of it were the First and Second Fingers, who shared the sa fate as him.
"Follow the plan. Enter in groups, keep them small and spread out," he sent a voice transmission to soone outside his imdiate group.
Unbeknownst to the public, a vast group of assassins was lying in wait at the forest’s edge near Caritas, their eyes fixed in Arson’s direction. They were all awaiting the next move.
All of them wore ordinary attire and disguises, ensuring that anyone who saw them would assu they were nothing more than travelers, rchants, or even beggars.
As soon as Arson entered the city, he imdiately attempted to contact Aldrian through a voice transmission.
"Master, I have arrived in Caritas. I just passed through the western gate. Where are you?"
"Oh, you’ve already arrived? Just co to the mayor’s mansion. I’ll be waiting for you there," Aldrian’s reply ca through.
"Alright."
After asking for directions from the city’s residents, Arson and the Fingers made their way toward the mansion. It took them nearly an hour of walking before they finally arrived. Upon reaching the entrance, they were imdiately greeted by a pair of guards stationed outside.
These guards were survivors of Marquess Parus’s torture, having once captives who had suffered in his torture chamber. After Aldrian had healed them, they had chosen to remain and serve him, determined to assist him for as long as he stayed in the city.
Seeing no issue with this, Aldrian allowed them to stay, even providing them with resources as recognition of their resilience and unwavering loyalty.
"Stop! This is the mayor’s mansion, where the city lord resides. If you have no business here, then please—"
"Let them in."
A sudden voice transmission cut off the guard’s words. Despite the interruption, the guard responded with reverence.
"Yes, my lord."
He then turned to Arson. "My lord has granted you permission to enter."
With that, they were escorted to a guest room, where a lone figure stood by the window, gazing at the scenery outside. From their position, they could only see his back, so they thought nothing unusual of him at first. However, their expressions subtly shifted when their leader, Arson, stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"I have arrived as you ordered, master."
Except for the First and Second Fingers, the rest of the group was shocked by the scene before them. They knew what kind of person their leader was. He had a hard personality, never showed fear, and rarely respected anyone.
Arson was a man who sought entertainnt in the thrill of the hunt. As one of the strongest assassins on the continent, with cultivation at the middle Emperor stage, there were only a handful of people capable of evading his assassination.
That was why he never accepted assassination missions again because none of them piqued his interest. However, they had heard that he took on one mission a few years ago, only to return without explaining anything.
Coincidentally or not, ever since that day, their organization’s operations had changed. It now functioned more like a group under a higher authority, with their leader acting as the bridge between them and that unseen force.
Watching their leader now, bowing in such a manner, they couldn’t help but wonder, was this the person giving him orders?
Their eyes shifted toward the figure standing by the window. When he finally turned his head, they involuntarily widened their eyes in shock.
A young man, no older than his early twenties.
Was this the new city lord? The one who obliterated the second prince’s forces? The one that they called the mysterious swordsman?
So young!
"Finally, we et again, Arson," Aldrian said with a slight smile.
Arson straightened his posture. "Yes, Master. It has been almost three years since we last t."
Aldrian nodded, then shifted his gaze to the group standing behind Arson.
"Are these all the Fingers?" he asked.
"Yes, Master. They are all the Fingers."
Aldrian observed them carefully, noting the unfamiliar faces. He already knew the First and Second Fingers, but the rest were new to him. Each of them was at the low Emperor stage, a truly formidable group. Combined with their King-stage assassins and lower-ranked mbers, it was no surprise that the Thunderous Shadow Pavilion was one of the strongest assassination organizations on the continent.
"How many people did you bring this ti?"
"Reporting to Master, I brought my entire hideout—around 134 assassins. They are entering the city as we speak."
Aldrian nodded. "Good. Once they’ve all arrived, have them blend in with the city’s residents. They can do whatever is necessary to conceal their identities—establish businesses, open entertainnt venues—anything to avoid exposure. They should be capable of that much, right?"
"Yes, Master."
"If you lack resources, just let know. I will provide whatever is necessary."
"Thank you, Master," Arson said with a bow.
"Now then," Aldrian turned his gaze back to the Fingers.
"All of you, follow ."
With that, he walked past them and exited the room.
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