The Military and Dorian Owen’s Coming Hardships

Who is Left Shore?

He’s an assassin—the number one killer on the Nine Provinces continent. He’s always the one handing out losses, hardly ever taking them. If he doesn’t strike back, he’s not Left Shore, not the top operative of the Assassin Alliance.

So what if he’s injured? Even wounded, he can still fight. Not only can he fight—he can wipe the floor with these people, leaving them no chance to fight back.

Left Shore crashes to the ground, but without a moment’s hesitation, he leaps straight back up. Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, he gives a cold snort: “You’re dead.”

Left Shore is completely enraged. Once he’s back on his feet, he charges like a tiger downhill—only attacking, never defending. Whatever moves the black-clad men throw at him, he ignores them all, focused only on attacking, only on killing…

For an assassin, killing is all that matters!

Faced with Left Shore’s ferocity, the black-clad men quickly start to falter. They try to use their crossbows again, but Left Shore gives them no chance. He stays right in their midst, so there’s no way they can fire off a shot.

Soon, a batch of black-clad men goes down, but Left Shore isn’t doing much better—his whole body is covered in wounds, and everywhere he walks, blood drips to the ground.

“Left Shore, you’re insane!” Serena Feng shouts from behind, gun in hand as she moves forward. “Left Shore, get back here!”

But Left Shore acts like he doesn’t hear her, still charging forward, ignoring everything behind him. Serena is frantic; just as she’s about to dash in and drag him back, a squad of personal guards floods in from across the street.

Serena looked up and saw Ninth Royal Uncle Nolan Dongling sitting astride his horse—a flash of surprise and joy lit up her eyes.

Reinforcements had arrived!

Taking in the battlefield chaos and the Imperial Guards’ passivity, Nolan’s eyes went ice-cold. He ordered, "Kill them all. Leave no survivors."

"Yes, sir!" His personal guards surged into the fray, instantly easing pressure on Left Shore.

"Retreat!" The black-clad assassins realized something was wrong and scattered at once.

"Chase them down. Not a single one escapes." Nolan commanded again.

The surrounding streets were sealed—these killers wouldn’t get away so easily…

Nolan’s men chased after the assassins. The once chaotic street soon fell silent. Left Shore, drenched in blood, stood in the middle of the road, glanced back to confirm Serena was safe, then vaulted up the wall and vanished over the rooftops.

"Left Shore, you lunatic!" Serena stomped her foot in frustration.

Chasing after enemies with wounds like that—Left Shore must have a death wish.

"You call Left Shore a madman, but what about yourself?" Nolan dismounted. An Imperial Guard officer stepped forward to greet him, only to be kicked aside by Nolan.

"Uh..." Serena wiped her waist, muttering weakly, "Just a scratch. Nothing serious."

"Really?" Nolan pulled her into his arms, turned her around, and inspected the torn wound at her waist. His voice was cold: "You sure this is just a scratch?"

"Accident. I crashed into something." Serena grumbled. Of all the luck—she dodged the assassins but managed to hurt herself.

After checking her over and confirming she had no other injuries, Nolan let her go. He gestured to the corpses on the street and to Dr. Guile and the Valley Master, who had been protected by the Imperial Guards. "What happened here?" he asked.

Serena glanced at the silent Imperial Guards and said, "Those black-clad killers came for me. The Guards were ordered to protect the Valley Master and Dr. Guile."

"Good. I understand." Nolan swept a cold gaze over the Guards. They didn’t think they’d done anything wrong, but his look sent chills down their spines.

"Your Highness, I was just following orders." The Guard commander said in a low voice, casting a furtive glance at Serena.

Rumor had it, the previous Imperial Guard commanders had all been dismissed because of Serena. Looked like he wouldn’t escape that fate either.

"Imperial orders cannot be disobeyed. I get it." Nolan’s voice was slow and calm, but the commander’s face turned white, his hand trembling on his sword. "Y-Your Highness..."

"No need to say more. I understand your position." Nolan cut him off, utterly calm. "Since you have your duties, I won’t hold you up. Go on—escort Dr. Guile and the Valley Master to the palace."

"Yes, sir." The commander felt uneasy at Nolan’s easy dismissal, but mostly relieved the mission could be completed.

Everything else could wait until after tonight.

Dr. Guile and the Valley Master frowned, exchanging glances. Nolan didn’t look at them—he simply scooped Serena into his arms and mounted up, acting as if nothing had happened.

But anyone who knew Nolan could see how furious he was. If he weren’t worried about Serena’s injury, nobody here would be safe.

"What now?" Dr. Guile and the Valley Master exchanged bitter smiles: Nolan was clearly angry—very angry. Would he expect them to help him vent that fury on the Emperor?

Dr. Guile and the Valley Master still entered the palace. Serena’s absence didn’t affect the Gu-worm extraction, at least as far as the Emperor was concerned. The two healers didn’t explain further; once everything was ready, they began the procedure.

Nolan didn’t send Serena back to Feng Manor, but brought her to his own Ninth Prince Residence. The house physicians quickly cleaned and bandaged her wound, repeatedly warning her not to get it wet or do anything strenuous for a few days, or she’d tear it open again.

Serena wasn’t sure if she was overthinking it or if the doctors meant something else, but every time she heard "strenuous activity," it sounded weird…

She glanced at Nolan, but his face was totally neutral. Maybe she was just imagining things.

"Nolan, have you found out who ordered the hit?" Serena couldn’t figure out who in the Nine Provinces Realm would spend so much just to kill her.

"The military." Nolan had only limited intel so soon after the attack.

"The military? You mean Eastlyn’s army? Did the Emperor give the order?" Serena had suspected military involvement when she saw the siege crossbows, but it still seemed impossible.

In the Eastlyn Capital, foreign agents couldn’t get in, and if the Emperor wanted her dead, he wouldn’t choose today—let alone use siege crossbows. That would be way too obvious.

"Eastlyn military. Not a direct imperial order, but he allowed it." Without prior imperial consent, the Guards would never have risked Serena’s life and stood by.

"Who hates me enough to use the army to kill me?" Serena muttered. Just how deep did that grudge run?

Seriously, what did I ever do to deserve this?

"No idea yet. But I’ll find out. You won’t bleed for nothing." Nolan promised. Until he found the culprit, neither of them would rest easy.

Serena nodded. "The Eighteen Riders will be back soon. With them at my side, those shadowy enemies will think twice before making a move."

Left Shore operates in the shadows. In a situation like today’s, it’s easy for him to get blocked out. But if the Eighteen Riders were here, that wouldn’t be a problem.

"Until the Eighteen Riders return, I’ll have Dorian ‘Beanie’ Owen stick to you. He’s been itching to get back into the army—if he keeps you safe until the Riders come, I’ll consider arranging him a posting." Nolan solved one problem for Serena, but she caught his wording: "consider."

Poor Beanie. He’s in for a world of pain…