The Lord Of Blood Hill

Henwell’s words prompt McComb and Sosie to shift their positions, subtly blocking Leician’s path.

The surrounding Penitence Squad members spread out slowly, forming a formation to trap the knight under the guidance of the Battle Knights.

Leician scans the area and scoffs, “Henwell, are you crazy? If it was us who leaked the intel, how could you have made it this far? In other words, if the intel was truly compromised, the best chance to wipe us out would have been right after the castle’s protective spell was activated, before you crossed the gallery bridge. “

”With enough archers and ballistae already deployed, they could have completely sealed off the bridge. We wouldn’t have stood a chance to break through; we’d be stuck there, taking hits passively, and suffering heavy casualties.”

Henwell agrees internally with Leician’s reasoning.

If it were a trap, that moment would have been the most dangerous.

If Henwell were in charge, he would have stationed heavy troops there, coordinating with a few elites and a formation of heavy infantry to block the entire gallery bridge.

But the current situation proves the guards were prepared.

Who in their right mind would place ballistae in the reception hall?

Those things are bulky and require advance setup.

They couldn’t have been dragged there by the guards in such a short time.

The circumstances feel strange, but Henwell has no clear answers.

With the arrow already nocked, there’s no turning back. The operation has begun, and they have no retreat within these eight hours.

Even if it’s a trap, the best option is to push forward quickly and find King Ulysses.

Only by capturing him can the tide be turned.

Trying to evade and outlast is unrealistic.

The enemy’s numbers are unknown; who exactly they are remains unclear.

This is their territory. No matter how many simulations they’ve run, it can’t compare to the enemy’s familiarity with the castle.

It’s easy to be led into traps and dead ends.

With the goal clear, Henwell immediately orders McComb to use a communication stone to send a message to the other squads.

All teams must watch for ambushes and accelerate their advance, aiming to reach the King’s Hall as soon as possible.

Once there, Ulysses can only hide in two places: the underground escape tunnel or a concealed safe room.

The King’s Hall leads directly to both locations. With the castle sealed, Ulysses will be trapped in one of these spots.

Capturing Ulysses will change everything.

Holding the king hostage threatens the castle’s guards. Once the protective spell ends, they can use the Holy Spirit Statue to relay a message to the church.

The church will immediately open a portal and dispatch their top forces to the scene.

At that point, everything will be settled, and Henwell’s team can leave alive.

So, the key is to capture Ulysses in the shortest time possible.

Henwell and Leician take the lead, cutting swiftly through the blockade, inching closer to the King’s Hall.

Henwell keeps a close eye on Leician, unwilling to let him wander within the squad. Only by staying by his side can Henwell detect any sudden moves.

In less than ten minutes, they arrive first at the King’s Hall.

By now, a squad of guards is stationed inside.

Having already eliminated a significant number of royal guards along the way, Henwell wants to minimize unnecessary bloodshed against these innocent soldiers.

So, when facing Ulysses’s captain of the guard, Henwell presents the church’s official mandate.

“Sir Gibson, I hereby order you to lay down your arms. We bear the noble ring’s certification and the church’s directive. Ulysses has fallen; he’s colluding with Veil and endangering the Kingdom of Billie. We must take him in for investigation by the Western Federation.”

Gibson, Ulysses’s captain of the guard and a seasoned Grand Knight, is renowned throughout Billie for his loyalty and courage.

He responds calmly to Henwell’s plea, “I will not allow you to take His Majesty, especially not by force and against his will.”

Henwell frowns. “Sir Gibson, this is for Ulysses and for Billie. You know he’s been cursed by the Veil Organization’s vile magic. His own methods won’t save him, he’s dying. Only the Holy Spirit Church can help.”

“After he’s gone, Billie will have a new king, from the Celtic family. None of us will interfere. Billie needs a new ruler, one free from Veil’s control, a wise and benevolent leader. This is the best outcome for everyone, especially the people of Billie.”

Gibson eyes Henwell carefully. “Henwell, if the church storms into Peace Haven to take you away, no matter how justified the reason, do you think your men would stand down? Would they simply give up the fight?”

Henwell sighs deeply and slowly draws his longsword.

The man has made his position clear. Further persuasion is futile.

Gibson watches as McComb steps forward, then turns back to Henwell. “Henwell, come at me yourself. I want to die by your hand, not by the hands of some unknown church agents. You’re a hero, different from them. You may have ambition, but at least you treat this continent as your home. They’re just outsiders, passing through.”

Henwell hesitates briefly, then steps forward and gives a knightly bow.

“Henwell Rudolph Phoenix, Lord of Blood Hill, Master of Peace Haven, comes to seek your counsel, senior.”

Gibson nods with approval. “Gibson Ira Feier, Viscount of Deer Isle, accepts your challenge!”

The knightly duel begins.

Both sides step back, clearing a circle for combat.

Henwell grips his longsword and charges, launching a piercing strike.

Their swords clash and weave, the first round ending in a stalemate.

From there, Henwell parries and counters, locked in a fierce, evenly matched battle with Gibson.

The intensity rises, drawing cheers from the onlookers.

Meanwhile, the other four squads gradually gather in the King’s Hall to watch the duel of masters.

After several more minutes, Gibson suddenly withdraws from the circle, locking eyes with Henwell.

“Henwell, if you respect me, show me your true skill instead of playing with me.”

Henwell takes a deep breath, grips his sword with both hands, and assumes a battle stance.

Their blades clash again, but this time it’s different. Gibson’s longsword is knocked flying.

Henwell’s blade rests against Gibson’s neck, causing the latter to pause briefly before chuckling.

“Heh… Henwell, you’re even stronger than the legends say. Go ahead. You’ve won. As the loser, I want the honor of being executed by you.”

With that, Gibson turns, kneels on one knee before the empty throne, and exposes the back of his neck to Henwell.