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Rise of the Fallen Kingdom’s Third Prince Chapter 266: Gift from the King (1)

Chapter 266: Gift from the King (1)

The​​‍ walls surrounding the⁠‍​ royal palace of⁠ Briol were towering​​‌ high, crowned with⁠​ sharp spear points.‍‍

For‌ most, even thinking‌ of crossing them‍‌‌ was unthinkable—but for⁠​⁠ an assassin like‌​⁠ Hasan, they posed​​ no problem at​ all.

Leading‌‍⁠ ten assassins, he​ vaulted over the​ wall in an⁠⁠ instant.

The‌​ view of the​​ royal palace of‍‍‌ Briol spread out‌‍‌ before his eyes.​‍

Lanterns‌‍‌ placed along the⁠​⁠ paths lit the⁠⁠⁠ grounds, though most​ of it remained‍ in darkness. Hasan‌‌‍ hid among the‌⁠ shadows.

The​⁠‌ royal guards patrolling‍​ inside had no‌‍ sense of his⁠ presence whatsoever.

With‍⁠ hand signals, he​‍‌ conveyed his orders.⁠‌

“I⁠​ and two others—the‌‍​ rest will move‍⁠ separately.”

The‍⁠⁠ assassins with him‌ weren’t mere shadows‍ moving in silence.​​

They‌​⁠ had been modified⁠⁠‍ with black magic,‍ gaining far greater​‌ strength, at a level comparable to‌ sword masters.

Ten‍ fighters of such⁠ caliber followed him.‍

If⁠ one added the​ nature of assassination‍ to that power,​‌ they could break‍‌ into not only‍⁠ Briol, but also‍ the royal palaces​ of other kingdoms.‌​​

If​⁠ they killed all‌​⁠ the kings, perhaps‍​ everyone would end‍​ up kneeling before‍ the Empire.

Smiling⁠ to himself, Hasan‍‍ advanced.

The​⁠ two moving with‌ him followed in‌ silence.

There‌⁠​ was a reason‌‍ for dividing the⁠ group into two—him‌‍ and two others,‍‌‌ and the other‍ eight.

That‍ way, strength was​‍ balanced in both⁠ teams. It spoke‍⁠ to how strong‍ he himself was.⁠

Hasan​​‍ headed toward his⁠⁠ target—the King of​ Briol, Joshua Briol.‌

The⁠⁠ royal residence stood‌⁠‍ in the heart‍‍ of the palace.‌ The deeper they‌ went, the more⁠ often guards appeared‍​‍ along the way.‌

However,​ none were able​​‌ to detect them.​

Not​‌ only did the‌ assassins move stealthily⁠ with the help‌⁠ of black magic,‌‌​ they had erased⁠‌ their presence as​‌⁠ much as possible.‌

Very⁠ few guards would⁠ have senses sharp‍⁠ enough to discover​‌ them.

When‌​ a group of‌ guards passed by,‌ Hasan slipped through‍‌​ the shadows of​ the buildings until‍ he stood before‍⁠‌ an area from⁠⁠‌ which he could⁠‌ see Joshua’s residence.‌

He‌ glanced around.

Total‍ silence.

Sensing‌​ the wind’s direction,‌​⁠ he prepared to‍‌ enter—but his feet‌​ wouldn’t move.

The‍‍ other two had‌ also stopped, looking‌⁠​ at him.

He​ turned his head.⁠⁠

In‌‌​ a clearing they‍⁠ had passed through,​‍‍ thinking it empty,​ someone was sitting⁠⁠‌ calmly.

Only​‍ now did Hasan‍‍ notice.

“Prepare⁠​‌ to fight.”

If⁠ there had been​⁠​ any sound, it⁠‌ meant they had⁠‌⁠ already been detected.‍ The two assassins‌‌‌ drew their weapons​‌⁠ immediately.

Hasan‍⁠‍ stepped into the⁠‍ center of the‌​​ clearing.

“Why‍ did you wait⁠ until the guards‍ left?”

He‌⁠ wanted to understand‍ that man’s intentions.‌‌⁠

“Were‌‌ you planning to‍‍ stop us by⁠ yourself?”

Though‌‍​ he had had⁠​‌ the chance to⁠‌‍ alert them, that⁠​ man had simply​‍ observed and revealed⁠ himself only once‌ they were alone.​​

An‌‍ arrogant thought.

“Who⁠‌ knows.”

The⁠‌⁠ stranger stood.

“Well,​ well… and here‍‌ I thought assassins‌‍ would be able⁠​ to detect me.”‍

Hasan​‌⁠ frowned.

He​‍⁠ was right—they hadn’t​‌ sensed him until‌‌‌ he chose to⁠‍ reveal himself.

A grave mistake for‌⁠ an assassin.

The​‍ other man went‌⁠ on.

“And‍​ I didn’t think​ that, after being​‌ discovered, you’d come‍‍​ straight to fight.”​

It⁠‍ was an accurate​⁠ observation.

But‍‌ in truth, Hasan​‌ wasn’t a pure‌ assassin.

He​ carried out missions‌‌ as ordered, with⁠‍ the mindset of‍​ a knight who‌​‍ wields his sword⁠‍‌ head-on.

“Who⁠‍‌ are you?”

“Does⁠‍ it matter?”

“I‌ have to report⁠​ who I kill.”‍‌‌

Finally,⁠ they faced each​‍ other directly.

By‌‍ the distant light⁠ of a lantern,⁠‌⁠ Hasan made out‍ the face.

“I’m‍​​ Bernard.”

Hasan‌ remembered—Yuri Briol’s sword‍​‍ master.

He⁠⁠ knew he had‌⁠⁠ trained the princes‍⁠​ as children, but‍​​ not that he‍‍ still resided in‌⁠ the palace.

Even⁠​ so, he didn’t⁠‍ care.

Even​ if he was⁠‌‌ skilled, he wouldn’t​ be able to‍‌ stand against them,‍‌‍ strengthened by black​‍ magic.

Two​⁠⁠ assassins moved to‌ position themselves behind‍‌ Bernard, forming a triangle to surround​ him.

“Better⁠‍⁠ kill you quickly.”‌‍⁠

“Did‍‌ you come to‌​‍ kill Joshua?”

“Not‍ your business.”

“Oh,⁠⁠ really?”

Bernard⁠‌ drew his sword.⁠​

Hasan‌ felt a chill—something‍ had changed.

He⁠⁠‍ no longer seemed‍‌⁠ like an ordinary‍‍ man in a nighttime clearing, but⁠⁠‍ a predator before⁠‌ its prey—no, something​​ more unreal, almost‍‍ ghostlike.

A cold sweat dampened​⁠ Hasan’s palms.

He‍‍‌ didn’t understand why⁠​‌ he felt such​ pressure, but with​​ every step Bernard‌​​ took, the distance⁠‍⁠ closed in an​⁠ instant.

“You​‌⁠ know something?”

Bernard‍ stopped, tilting his⁠⁠​ chin up in⁠‍ invitation to speak.‌‌

“We​⁠ split into two‌‍ groups.”

He‌​ said it to⁠‍ distract him, instinctively‍⁠ sensing this was⁠‍​ a formidable opponent.​

He​‍ had heard that‍ Bernard had once‌ been called the⁠⁠ “Demon of the​‍⁠ Sword” in the‌‍‍ past, though that‍‍ was long ago.‍

But​ the man before‍​ him had not​⁠‌ lost strength—he had⁠​ increased it.

“Even⁠ if you stop‍‍ us, Joshua will‌ die anyway. You‌‍ shouldn’t waste your​⁠​ time here.”

“Of‍⁠ course.”

Bernard’s‌‍ expression did not⁠​ change at all.‍‌

“Then⁠ there’s no helping​ it.”

“What?”​‌

“I‍ don’t care.”

“A‌‌⁠ guest of Briol‍‍ talking like that…?”​‌‍

“I’m​‌‍ a guest, not​‍ a vassal. Protecting‌ the king isn’t⁠⁠‍ my duty.”

Bernard​​​ raised his sword⁠​ again.

“That’s‍ the job of‍⁠‌ the royal guard.”​​

“Oh,‍​ is it?”

Hasan⁠ smiled and nodded.‍​⁠

With‌​ that attitude, all‌​​ the better—he had‌‌ split his forces‌⁠ precisely for situations​ like this.

If‍‌ one group was​ stopped, the other‍‍ could complete the​​‍ mission.

“I‌‍‍ hope that royal⁠ guard is competent.”‍

“So‌⁠ do I.”

That⁠‌​ was the start.​

Bernard’s‌ sword came down.⁠ Hasan barely managed‌ to block it.‌‍‍

‘He’s‌ too fast.’

The‍‍ steel, light as​ a butterfly in​ flight, suddenly twisted⁠‌ in its path​ and shot forward​‍‍ like an arrow.⁠​⁠

It‍​ was so fast‍‌‌ that a moment’s​ carelessness would be‌ enough to be‍⁠​ run through.

Hasan⁠ clenched his teeth,‌ blocking strike after‍⁠ strike. He hadn’t‍ expected to meet‌⁠ someone of this‌‌ level in the⁠‌‍ palace of Briol.​

At‍ his signal, the‌‌ two assassins attacked‌⁠‍ from behind. The​ three blades danced‌ around Bernard.

Blood‍‌ sprayed into the​⁠ air.

“Hahahaha…”‌

Hasan⁠‍ smirked to one‌‍​ side.

Bernard​‌ had blocked Hasan’s​‌ strike and that⁠​ of one assassin,‍‌⁠ but not the‌​ third’s.

Thus,⁠ a wound appeared‌‌ on his chest.‍‌

It⁠​ wasn’t deep, but⁠ the mere fact⁠‌ of making him⁠ bleed was already​‍ a gain.

“…”‌

Bernard⁠⁠ looked at his⁠‌​ chest with a calm expression. Then​ he tore his⁠⁠ shirt and tossed​‌ it aside.

His‌ bare torso showed‍​ a well-trained body,‌ but his skin‌‌‍ was covered with‌‌ scars.

Hasan‍‌‍ scoffed at the‌‍‌ sword marks on‌ his chest and​ abdomen.

“Where​‍⁠ did you take‍‌ so many cuts?‌‌ It’s a miracle‍​⁠ you’re still alive.”‍​⁠

Bernard⁠‍⁠ nodded.

“I‍​ suppose so.”

As‌‌ he raised his‍ sword, his aura‍​​ grew more ferocious.⁠ Hasan and the⁠​ two assassins began​⁠ circling clockwise, watching‍ his movements.

“Now​ that I think​ of it—it’s you.”​⁠

“What‍⁠ are you talking⁠ about?”

“There⁠‍‍ was a lunatic⁠‍ who, every so‍ often, gave me‍‌ sword marks. Call⁠​⁠ it a royal‌⁠⁠ gift? I stayed‍‌ in Briol just‍⁠ to beat that​‍‌ man who didn’t⁠‌‍ even deserve to‌‍ be called human—but‌‌​ thanks to you,⁠‌ I won’t be​ seeing him again.”‍‌‌

“What‌‌‌ nonsense are you⁠‌​ spouting…?”

Bernard‍​ closed his eyes,​​⁠ then opened them⁠‍ again.

The​⁠​ moment Hasan met​‌​ his gaze, he‍ felt his chest‌​​ lurch.

This​‍‍ was different from​⁠‌ before.

Now,‌‌⁠ the man standing​ before him was,‍ quite literally, a demon of the‌‍⁠ sword.

It‌‌ was like facing‍​ a perfectly honed⁠⁠⁠ blade, soaked in​​ countless drops of‍​‍ blood.

His​ silhouette blurred.

Hasan‌‌ lost sight of‌ him for an‍​ instant—until he sensed​ a presence at​‍ his side and‌​‍ turned.

Bernard‍​ was already upon​⁠‌ him, sword swinging.‍⁠⁠

“You…”⁠

To‌ kill an enemy,‌ many conditions aren’t‍ necessary—having strength, being​‌‍ fast, or knowing‍‌ how to strike‌‍‍ at the opponent’s⁠ openings.

All‍ that’s needed is⁠ to cut before‌ the other does.​‌‌

That‌​ is the sword—that‌ is assassination.

But‍ Bernard was different.⁠​ He wasn’t just​ someone who used‍ the sword as‍⁠​ a tool; he‍ was someone who‍‌​ had taken the⁠ very existence of​​ being a sword‌‍ to its absolute‌‌ limit.

Now⁠​ Hasan understood why​ they called him​ the Demon of⁠ the Sword. That‌‍ kind of person‍‍ was dangerous.

More‍ dangerous than they​ appeared on the‍ surface.

“Damn…”‍​‌

Hasan⁠ deflected his sword‌ with all his⁠⁠ strength and retreated‍​⁠ several steps.

Then‍‌ he forced a smile and said,⁠​

“Hey,‍⁠‍ Demon of the​‍‍ Sword. Aren’t you⁠ worried about your‌​ king? By now,⁠​⁠ they’ve probably already‌ entered the palace.‍ He could be‌ dead. This isn’t‌‌‌ the time to​ waste on a duel.”

It⁠‍ was meant to​ shake him. But‌ Bernard didn’t stop.⁠‌

He‍‍ kept advancing, and⁠‌ a faint smile‍‍ crossed his lips.‍

“You‍‍ underestimate Briol far‍‍ too much.”

***⁠

The‍‍​ assassins who had‍⁠ split from Hasan⁠⁠‍ infiltrated the royal‌⁠ residence in an‌‍‍ instant.

There‍⁠​ were two royal⁠‍ guards at the⁠​ entrance, but deceiving⁠​ their senses was⁠​​ simple.

The‍ assassins’ bodies carried‌‍ black magic—magic circles​ etched directly into​‍ their flesh by⁠ a dark mage,‍ making them perfect⁠‌‍ killers.

Because⁠⁠ of this, no‌ one could easily‌‍⁠ detect their presence.‌

With⁠ night fallen, the‌ residence was in‌‍‌ complete silence. Not​ a single servant​ stirred.

It‍‌ was the perfect‌ setting.

The​⁠ assassins moved without‍ making the slightest‌‍ sound. Eight men‌ advanced, but there‌ was absolute silence.​⁠

Hasan⁠‍⁠ had yet to​‍ appear, but that⁠‌ didn’t change the‍ mission—whoever arrived first​ was to abduct⁠ the king.

If⁠ he resisted too‌ much, they were​‍‌ free to kill‌ him.

They​‌ soon found the⁠​ chamber where the⁠​‌ king rested.

But​ in front of​‌ the door, someone⁠​ was sitting on⁠‌ the floor, leaning⁠‍⁠ against it, apparently‌ asleep.

It‌‍​ wasn’t surprising—they had‍‌ expected to find​ a guard there.‌‍​ One less wouldn’t‍ be a problem.‍‌‍

As‍⁠ the assassins approached‌‌‌ silently—

“Hmm…”‍‍‍

The‍⁠‌ guard, arms folded​ across his chest,‌⁠ slowly let his⁠‍​ hands drop and‌ gripped his sword.‍

“So,⁠ we have visitors.”⁠

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