The Lord Of Blood Hill

Half an hour later, Henwell struggles out of a large pit inside the palace.

His armor is battered and broken in multiple places, and his body bears numerous deep wounds, some so severe the bone is visible.

His right arm is missing its vambrace, with chunks of flesh torn away. His right shoulder is collapsed, jagged bone fragments stained with blood protruding from the wound.

Though his left arm isn’t as badly damaged, the fingers on his left hand are twisted into unnatural shapes, with bones exposed.

Coughing up blood mixed with bits of internal tissue, Henwell takes a moment to catch his breath before looking toward Nangong Yaoyun standing opposite him.

On the surface, Nangong Yaoyun shows no severe injuries, just some blood trickling from his mouth and nose.

But in reality, he’s at his limit. During their close-quarters fight, Nangong Yaoyun experienced Henwell’s brutal fighting style. That is an aggressive, offense-heavy technique that kept him constantly on the defensive.

Henwell’s strategy of trading injury for injury is something Nangong Yaoyun cannot accept.

Especially with William watching nearby, who senses that this man holding the sword might be even stronger than Henwell.

Though Henwell looks worse off, Nangong Yaoyun can no longer move.

Each of Henwell’s punches carries the weight of a thousand pounds, inflicting severe internal injuries and multiple organ ruptures.

If not for his Qi keeping him upright, Nangong Yaoyun wouldn’t even be standing.

In contrast, Henwell’s incredible defense and visible regeneration allow him to catch his breath and soon start moving again.

This life-or-death duel may have left Henwell looking battered, but in the end, he gets victory.

Nangong Yaoyun speaks softly, “Enough! I admit defeat. Nangong Ying is the Emperor. Soon, I will announce Nangong Ying as the empire’s ruler in the name of the Nangong Family.”

Henwell bites down on the fingers of his left hand, slowly straightening the crooked bones one by one.

The crisp sound of bones snapping back into place makes Nangong Yaoyun’s heart skip a beat.

Seeing Henwell continue his steady approach, Nangong Yaoyun frowns.

“What more do you want? Are you really going to kill me? I am the Nangong Family’s Fifth Rank Martial Warrior pillar, the foundation that supports them. Killing me won’t benefit the Nangong Family. “

”Is this Nangong Ying’s wish? Does he understand what he’s doing? The Nangong Family must have their own Fifth Rank Martial Warrior here!”

Henwell spits out a mouthful of blood and says, “Didn’t I already say? We’re here to settle this for life and death! How can you just give up now? That’s not how it works! “

”Honestly, Nangong Ying’s decision doesn’t matter to us, it’s us who want you dead! And why? Because you’ve become a stumbling block. Old man, you’re standing in our way!”

Nangong Yaoyun’s face twists in horror. “How dare you! Which Family are you from? Or are all the Families united against us Nangong Family?!”

Henwell shakes his head. “That’s a secret! But it’s getting late. Time to move on.”

“Quite a few people died today. Hell’s probably got a long line. If you’re late, you might miss meeting Satan. Then again, you probably wouldn’t understand any of this.”

By now, Henwell is just a few meters away from Nangong Yaoyun, with the Dawn Greatsword deeply embedded in the ground ahead of him.

As he passes, Henwell steps down hard on the sword’s hilt, which suddenly snaps free from the earth. The sword handle flies perfectly into his left hand.

Nangong Yaoyun raises a hand, “Wait! I…”

But before he can finish, the knight charges forward, swinging his longsword horizontally.

Henwell hooks his foot, catching the falling head effortlessly. With a slight flick, he tosses it into the palm of his hand.

Holding the severed head close, Henwell studies the expression frozen in eternal defiance and smiles.

“You talk too much!”

In the great hall, only Henwell and William remain standing, along with Nangong He seated on the dragon throne.

Everyone else has perished, caught in the crossfire of the fierce battle moments ago.

After tossing the severed head to William, Henwell begins tending to his own wounds while addressing Nangong He.

“What’s the matter? Still waiting? Waiting to die? Hurry up and give yourself some dignity! Or are you expecting me to come and cut off your head? Or maybe you think I’m too injured to fight back?”

Nangong He replies, “An emperor has his own way of dying. Even if it’s just for one day, I have been an emperor! So there’s no need for you to lift a hand. But now, I want you to answer one question, who exactly are you? Who supports you? What’s your relationship with Lucy, and why are you helping her?”

Henwell waves his hand, drawing scattered pieces of armor from around the hall and fitting them onto his broken suit. Under the influence of his Blood Will, the armor slowly begins to mend itself.

He glances at Nangong He and says, “You sure do talk a lot. That’s not really one question.”

Nangong He insists, “Then answer me this, why are you helping Lucy?”

Henwell smirks, “Because she’s kind of like a little sister to us! Of course we’re going to help her. Mainly, the elders asked us to come and back her up.”

William steps forward, sensing many people gathering outside and approaching the palace.

“Time’s up! If you won’t die willingly, I’ll send you to your death!”

Nangong He raises his longsword, staring fiercely at the two of them.

“If I had taken you seriously, if I had contacted you sooner, maybe things would be different now!”

William replies coldly, “It wouldn’t have mattered. You never fit into our plans from the start.”

Hearing this, Nangong He’s anger erupts.

“Why? Why? Why do you all look down on me? My father despised me, my high and mighty older brother despises me, the court officials despise me! Is it only Nangong Ying who deserves to be emperor in your eyes? “

”He’s indecisive, sentimental, how could he be a good emperor? He’s obsessed with Lucy, indifferent to the world and the people. Can a person like that revive the empire?”

Henwell chuckles, “Don’t get so worked up! Nangong Ying definitely isn’t fit to be emperor. The reason your father passed the throne to him is because the empire needs a steady ruler now, not one who everyone fears. “

”You’re too clever, too scheming. Everyone knows if you became emperor, no one would be comfortable. So, in everyone’s eyes, you’re pushed aside.”

“An emperor like you is either a founding hero or a savior in the empire’s darkest hour. But right now, the empire isn’t dying yet, it can’t handle a harsh remedy.”

Nangong He murmurs, “So that’s how you all think…”

Henwell sheathes his two longswords.

“We’re not exactly thinking that way. The reason we want to kill you is the same as your uncle’s, it’s just that you’re in the way.”

Nangong He doesn’t press further.

He already sees the torch-bearing warriors from various factions eagerly rushing up the palace steps outside.

Slowly turning around, Nangong He raises his longsword and gently drags it across his neck…