The hidden weapon is poisoned!
A descendant of the Divine Temple actually coats his hidden weapons with poison—shameless! Even more shameless, the Emperor allowed Felix Fuller to bring such weapons into the palace. Clearly, the Emperor values Felix highly.
The Divine Temple's heir truly has skill—half a day was all it took for the Emperor to trust him so deeply. Lance Quinn was eager to see what miracle Felix would produce tomorrow.
"Pfft..." Lance Quinn wrapped his hand in his sleeve and yanked the poisoned dart from his shoulder.
Black blood spurted out. A wave of dizziness hit—Lance Quinn found he couldn't stay upright, his steps unsteady, his whole body feeling as if he were treading on cotton. His vision blurred, unable to focus, and his legs could no longer support his weight.
Damn it, what kind of poison is this? It actually works on him. He grew up ingesting all sorts of toxins—ordinary poisons never affect him, and even the deadliest can't take his life. He hadn't expected the poison on Felix's weapon to be this potent, making him lose his footing so quickly.
No—if this keeps up, he'll go down right here tonight.
Lance Quinn quickly shook his head, bit down hard on his tongue—the stabbing pain brought him back to his senses. He turned and saw Felix Fuller chasing after him with sword drawn. Lance snorted coldly and focused his energy...
Crack—seeing Felix's sword about to strike, Lance Quinn hurriedly hurled the poisoned, blood-stained dart in his hand.
His strength was lacking, but fortunately the distance between them was close. The dart flew toward Felix Fuller's face, forcing him to stop and dodge the attack.
That brief opening was all Lance Quinn needed.
Lance Quinn quietly breathed a sigh of relief, sealed the acupoint at his shoulder to keep the poison from entering his heart. His entire left arm instantly lost strength and hung limp at his side.
Lance Quinn dashed out with sword in hand, but as soon as he burst from the hall, he was surrounded by layers of Imperial Guards. He couldn't help but marvel at their efficiency—should he thank Serena Feng or resent her? If they hadn't suffered repeated humiliations at Serena's hands, they wouldn't have trained so desperately.
Looks like if he wants to break through tonight, he'll have to pay a price!
Firelight glared off his silver mask. Lance Quinn exhaled and, without hesitation, charged forward with sword raised, intent on carving a bloody path out.
Clang, clang, clang—blades clashed. Earlier, Prince Terrence and Prince Damien faced similar predicaments; now Lance was experiencing it himself. Poetic justice—his luck tonight was rotten.
Lance Quinn pressed forward, not bothering to defend. Blood covered him—he couldn't tell if it was his or theirs. Felix Fuller appeared and, seeing Lance trapped, ordered curtly, "Archers, ready!"
Unfortunately, the Guards didn't obey him immediately. Instead, they looked to their own officer for instructions. The officer hesitated, glanced at the battlefield, then nodded.
Felix Fuller flashed a hint of anger. Damn—he'd forgotten this wasn't his turf. He knew that with this delay, he'd never catch that Lan-surnamed man. Sure enough...
Felix was right. The moment Lance Quinn heard archers were being deployed, he knew if he didn't escape now, he'd never get out tonight. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the risk of poison flowing to his heart, Lance forced his way through the encirclement and broke out of Everpeace Hall.
"Quick, after him—the assassin is wounded, he can't get far!" Felix Fuller swept a cold glance over the Imperial Guards.
Damn idiots—if they'd obeyed him immediately, the target wouldn't have escaped, and Felix wouldn't have to clean up the mess. Now he could only hope that the Lan-surnamed man was skilled enough to evade capture, or Felix would be in trouble himself...
"Yes, sir." This time the Guards didn't dare question Felix Fuller and rushed out to pursue, but it was already too late.
Lance Quinn broke through the encirclement—like a fish diving into the sea. These Guards would have a hard time catching him now!
Two waves of assassins in one night—even a corpse would have been woken by the commotion. But a prince's son never sits beneath a collapsing roof; with assassins loose, the Emperor wouldn't dare show himself. Only after being informed that the assassin had escaped did the Emperor, under heavy protection, arrive at the Hall of Tranquil Harmony.
"Felix Fuller, what is going on here?" The Emperor was furious—the consequences would be severe.
The palace had always been secure—how could there be assassins the moment Felix Fuller arrived? Was he as unlucky as Liam Li?
The wrath of an emperor is more than most can bear. Even as a Divine Temple heir, Felix Fuller had lived overseas for years; when the Emperor unleashed his full aura, Felix couldn't help but be affected.
Under the Emperor's pressure, Felix Fuller stepped back, his breathing quickened, and the color drained from his face. The Emperor nodded, satisfied.
Felix Fuller quietly exhaled. Once he'd steadied himself, he said, "Your Majesty, I'm afraid someone leaked news of tomorrow's Heaven-Sacrifice. Both waves of attackers seemed to be targeting me."
Felix Fuller phrased it politely, but the accusation was clear—he was blaming the Emperor for poor secrecy. The Emperor had only just decided on the Heaven-Sacrifice, and the news had already leaked outside the palace. For the Emperor to ask him what happened was almost insulting; Felix was generous not to blame him outright.
Ahem... The Emperor coughed awkwardly. Felix's words weren't wrong—if news hadn't leaked, why would so many come after him?
Still, hearing it aloud was humiliating. The Emperor's face darkened as he ordered, "Summon the Divine Tiger Squad to protect Young Master Felix."
The Emperor would never admit fault. Thinking of Felix Fuller's value, he decided to provide maximum protection—after all, it was only for one day.
Tomorrow, if the snow hasn't stopped by the third quarter of the Si hour, this man calling himself a Fuller heir will die without a burial.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Felix Fuller accepted graciously, then offered a reminder: "Your Majesty, I wounded the assassin's left shoulder. He won't be able to leave the city and will likely seek medical help inside."
Felix Fuller said no more—he trusted the Emperor to know what to do.
"Lock down the city. Search for anyone with a wounded left shoulder. Watch all pharmacies and doctors—report any suspicious activity immediately." The Emperor gave decisive orders to his chief eunuch, who obeyed without question.
"Your Majesty is wise," Felix Fuller said flatly.
He was sure that with the black-clad man's skills, the Emperor wouldn't catch him. These measures might work against ordinary assassins, but for someone with deep roots and a vast estate in the capital, they were useless.
Every noble family keeps its own estate physician—some are even better than the imperial doctors. Catching an assassin with just these two clues would be nearly impossible.
That certainty was why Felix Fuller dared to admit he'd wounded the assassin; otherwise, if the Emperor discovered he carried poisoned weapons, Felix would be finished.
"Rest well, Young Master Felix." The Emperor's mood finally improved; he cared deeply for his own dignity, and Felix's earlier words had stung.
"Respectfully seeing Your Majesty off." Felix Fuller bowed his head, expressionless. Only after the Emperor left did Felix look up at the stars, his glassy eyes filled with faint confusion.
The Emperor descends—the will of Heaven fulfilled!
What kind of fate is this—why can't he read it?
As soon as the Emperor stepped out of the Hall of Tranquil Harmony, he ordered his chief eunuch to purge the palace again—no spies were to remain near him.
Damn it—all those spies around the Emperor, what a disgrace! Luckily, no outsiders overheard his talk with Felix Fuller; if word got out about the snow stopping at Si hour, the Heaven-Sacrifice would become a joke.
"As you command, Your Majesty." The chief eunuch shivered—he knew this winter would be a disaster for Eastlyn. Inside the palace and out, corpses would pile up.
"Your Majesty, the Imperial Guard commander requests an audience." The Emperor had just entered the Hall of Deliberation when a junior eunuch delivered the message.
"Admit him!" The Emperor knew this was about the assassin—he wanted to see who dared challenge imperial authority.
"The—" The Imperial Guard commander had barely begun his greeting when the Emperor cut him off impatiently: "Just tell me—where's the assassin?"
"Your servant was incompetent—the assassin escaped." The commander bowed his head. Despite the freezing cold, sweat poured from his brow.
"The assassin escaped? Are all my men useless? So many of you, and you couldn't catch a few assassins." The Emperor's dissatisfaction ran deep—and for the commander, that spelled disaster.
The commander's heart pounded wildly. When the Emperor was displeased, losing his job was the least of his worries—this could cost him his head. He shut his eyes and confessed, "Your Majesty, I failed to capture the assassin, but I did see his face."
"Who was it? Speak." Knowing the assassin's identity was better than nothing—the Emperor's expression eased slightly.
The commander couldn't be absolutely sure, but he spoke firmly: "Your Majesty, there were three assassins—Prince Damien of Southlyn, Crown Prince Terrence of Lyndaria, and one black-clad, silver-masked man. If I'm not mistaken, that last is the rising martial expert, Lance Quinn."
Save yourself, never mind your fellow travelers—the commander quickly named all three. Whether or not they were truly the culprits, he didn't care; they fit the description.
"Southlyn, Lyndaria—impressive. Half a year here hasn't been wasted." The Emperor sneered. He'd suspected his Ninth Brother, but after one stint in prison, that brother's courage had shrunk—he wouldn't dare meddle in palace affairs now.
As for Lance Quinn, a mere martial artist didn't matter to the Emperor. Most likely, Lance was in league with Southlyn and Lyndaria. With the assassins identified, the Emperor felt a bit more at ease. He glanced at the kneeling commander and decided he was still useful: "I understand. You may go."
"Thank you, Your Majesty, for sparing me—long live the Emperor!" The commander had escaped with his life and hurried out. As soon as he left, the Emperor's face darkened again. He said to his chief eunuch, "Issue my decree—the marriage of Prince Chun and Princess Yaohua will be postponed."
He would teach Prince Damien and Crown Prince Terrence a lesson—make them understand what it meant to behave.