As soon as the city gate was blasted open, the soldiers went absolutely wild, like they'd just been injected with pure adrenaline. It was as if hope had finally appeared, so they charged forward at full speed. Even though there were still defenders on the walls, none of that seemed to matter now.
This was a scene Connor Tong had never imagined, and for the first time in his career as a general, he was completely caught off guard.
But before Connor could even react, the Chu soldiers had already stormed inside, and the sounds of battle erupted all over the city.
The six husbands were the first to charge in, with Ivy Shen right behind them. But the moment Ivy stepped inside, she instantly felt something was off.
She sensed a massive force at play, and couldn’t figure out what could possibly be so strong.
But she could feel it, clear as day.
Suddenly, a wave of intense unease crashed over her, making her chest tighten for a split second.
“Charge!” came a series of shrill shouts. The supposedly quiet streets instantly flooded with thousands of black-clad guards, their presence overwhelming. Compared to the soldiers outside, you could tell at a glance these guys were the real elites.
Looks like Cao Wan’er kept all her best troops inside the city. No wonder things went so smoothly for us up to now.
“Kill them!” The moment the two sides collided, it was like a spark hitting gunpowder—there was no stopping it now.
"Xin’er, charge for the palace!" Yvonne Li shouted, instantly spurring her horse forward, with Nina Xu right behind her.
Just then, Ivy Shen suddenly wondered where her six husbands were. One look, and she panicked—none of them were heading in the same direction. Ivy knew this wasn’t right; they’d agreed earlier that General Nee would lead the guards to clear the city while they charged straight for the palace.
But now, all six of them were running off in different directions. That was way too weird—something must’ve happened.
Otherwise, they’d never be so reckless.
Right now, the only explanation was that this was all part of Cao Wan’er’s plan. But there was nothing Ivy could do to stop it now—her top priority was to break into the palace. As long as the six husbands weren’t entering the palace separately, she didn’t need to worry. The city was already chaotic enough, and the palace would be even worse.
"Hyah!" She didn’t have time to analyze further. If Cao Wan’er had set up traps here, the palace would be even more heavily defended. Yvonne Li and Nina Xu charging ahead so recklessly—she didn’t even want to think about the consequences.
"Hyah, hyah!" She kept squeezing her legs against the horse’s sides, whipping it again and again. She had to reach the palace before them.
"Stop that demon girl!" someone roared from the crowd, and waves of black-clad attackers lunged at Ivy Shen.
"Courting death!" Ivy’s brows knitted tight. She whipped out two swords from her waist, leaned back, and swung both arms—instantly slicing the black-clad attackers in half.
The scene was so shocking that the remaining black-clad attackers froze for a moment. Just how strong was this demon girl, anyway?
"Hyah!" Ivy didn’t have time to care what anyone else was thinking—she had to reach the palace, fast.
*****
"Crap, it’s a trap!" Suddenly, Eli Crane yanked his reins, bringing his horse to a halt. Just now, several black-clad figures had appeared out of nowhere—one of them had silver hair exposed, fluttering in the wind. Eli immediately thought it was Silver Consort. He’d heard plenty about her during their time together.
Didn’t they fail to kill her last time?
No way—he couldn’t let that woman show up again. He had to finish her off himself, just so Xin’er could finally relax.
But right then, in a deserted alley, those black-clad figures and the one with silver hair kept rushing ahead—and Eli suddenly realized something was off.
This was starting to look like a total setup. The old bait-and-switch popped into his head.
Thinking fast, Eli Crane spun his horse around, ready to race back and regroup with Xin’er. But just as he turned, a hundred black-clad killers suddenly appeared in front of him. The one with silver hair yanked off his black cloth, and the silver strands fell to the ground.
Yep—he’d totally walked into their trap.
"Heir of the White clan, once royal!" The man who’d ripped off his hood declared coldly, clutching that title like it was a trophy.
Eli Crane sat atop his horse, frowning slightly. If they’d already figured out he was a White clan heir, they must have come prepared.
"Listen up, guys! This man’s got a photographic memory—don’t underestimate him. We have to attack together!" the leader barked.
"Yes, sir!" everyone echoed at once.
Next second, before Eli Crane could get a word out, the mob rushed him. Eli sprang lightly off his horse, sword in hand, and began his own massacre.
"Poison darts, hidden weapons—don’t hold back!" the leader shouted, directing the attack.
In a flash, a hailstorm of poison darts and hidden weapons flew at Eli Crane—every strike deadly, every move ruthless.
"Form the array!" the black-clad man called out, then melted into the crowd, blending in with the rest.
Suddenly, a ring of black-clad fighters appeared around Eli, spinning in circles, trying to confuse him so he couldn’t tell which way was which.
"Go!" The leader hidden in the crowd roared, and a hundred black-clad killers charged, each wielding two razor-sharp weapons.
*****
"You bastards! You dare trick this grand-lord?" Butterfly Rogue bellowed, clearly fed up with these black-clad thugs. When he spotted the silver hair, he’d assumed it was Silver Consort—wasn’t she supposed to be dead after that last heavy injury? How was she still alive? To find out, he’d chased after them, never expecting it was all a trap.
This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Click next page to keep reading!
He glared at the thirty-some black-clad fighters in front of him, thoroughly annoyed.
"That’s one of the demon girl’s husbands, but he doesn’t seem that strong," the black-clad leader muttered, clearly miffed that the Empress had assigned him such a minor target.
"You idiot! Not strong? This grand-lord is plenty strong!" Butterfly Rogue huffed. These fools—how dare they look down on him! Unforgivable. Absolutely unforgivable!
"Strong, my ass. Do you know, out of all six of her men, you’re the only one they sent so few people after—and even these…" The black-clad man trailed off, annoyed.
"Few people? You old farts dare look down on me? Tell me—who planned this? At least a hundred or so should be sent after me! Just thirty-something? You really don’t see me as a main character!"
"Main character? Hmph, you’re just a flower thief, not some hero. Pay attention, people!" the black-clad leader roared. Instantly, the thirty-some fighters whipped off their headscarves, letting long black hair fly. Then they stripped off their outer clothes, revealing only red dudou tops underneath. That’s when Butterfly Rogue realized—all but the leader were women.
"Dragging all these women along for the job—what a damn disgrace," the black-clad leader muttered. He fancied himself general material, yet here he was, forced to wrangle a bunch of women and a flower thief. How humiliating.
"Oh wow, all women, huh? That old witch Cao will really do anything to deal with me," Butterfly Rogue said, sitting on his horse and eyeing the ladies as they struck all sorts of poses, a smirk curling on his lips.
"They’re the most beautiful women around," the black-clad leader said with a sly grin, though secretly he thought: all of them had already slept with this grand-lord.
"So, what exactly are you ladies planning?" Butterfly Rogue asked, resting his chin on his hand and watching them.
"Aren’t we beautiful?" The women began striking seductive poses to lure Butterfly Rogue. Their dudou tops might look simple, but their skirts hid sharp swords. To be honest, most of them thought this whole plan was overkill—taking down a flower thief was hardly a challenge. Still, orders were orders.
"Beautiful, very beautiful. You all seem strangely familiar," Butterfly Rogue mused, studying them closely.
At that, the women giggled behind their hands. Hmph, typical man—none of them could resist their charms.
"Ah, I remember now! No wonder you all seemed so familiar—you look just like Little White’s droppings. Long, pointy, even the smell is the same. Actually, you’re even stinkier than Little White’s droppings." Butterfly Rogue waved his hand, pinched his nose, and declared with utter seriousness.
"What? You want to die!" The women exploded with rage at his words—never before had anyone insulted them like this. They were determined to kill him!