The three remaining assassins exchanged glances before nodding in unison. They attacked simultaneously, their movents synchronized. But Hua Jing was faster.
She dodged the first strike with a fluid backstep, deflecting the second with her stolen blade. The third, however, managed to graze her shoulder. The sharp sting of pain barely registered as she retaliated instantly, severing the hand that had dared wound her. The man’s scream was lost in the chaos as she drove the blade through his heart.
The last two, now desperate, moved with renewed aggression. Hua Jing, however, was already upon them. With a fierce upward slash, she disard one, the clang of tal against stone ringing through the night. She slamd the hilt of her sword into his temple, sending him crumpling to the ground.
The final assassin made a final, reckless attempt—but he was already too late. Hua Jing spun and plunged the blade into his chest, pushing until the hilt pressed against his flesh. He gasped, eyes wide in disbelief, before falling lifelessly at her feet.
Silence followed. The stench of blood filled the air.
Hua Jing exhaled, wiping the blood from her face with the back of her hand. She turned to the Pri Minister, eyes gleaming with triumph. "Is this what you wanted to confirm, my lord?"
The Pri Minister stood there, trembling as Hua Jing began to walk toward him. Each slow, deliberate step echoed against the stone pavent, a chilling counterpoint to the flickering torches that barely illuminated the blood-streaked battlefield. The sword she had claid from one of the assassins scraped against the ground, creating a trail of sparks as it dragged along the stone. The Pri Minister swallowed hard, his nerves betraying him despite his attempt to mask them with a strained smile.
"Oh, indeed," he said, his voice faltering for just a second before he composed himself. "And I must say, my dear, you have exceeded my expectations."
Hua Jing tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes narrowing as a slow, cruel smile spread across her lips. "I have?" she mused, lifting the sword just slightly before letting it drop again with another eerie scrape. The sound sent a shiver up the Pri Minister’s spine.
He nodded, though he had to force his body to stay still.
Hua Jing lowered her gaze, eyeing the dark droplets of blood staining the silk of her sleeves. She scrunched her nose in distaste. "This is disgusting," she murmured, as if the carnage around them was rely an inconvenience. Then she lifted her eyes back to him, her expression sharp and assessing. "What a surprise then. I am not done. You gave a surprise." She grinned, the gesture razor-sharp. "It is only fitting that I return the favor. Fifty-fifty, don’t you think that’s fair?"
The Pri Minister visibly trembled, and Hua Jing nearly let out a throaty laugh. She savored the sight, reveling in the knowledge that this man—this man who had conspired in the shadows, who had tried to kill her husband—was now standing on the precipice of his own undoing.
"For a man so big," she drawled, "you look like you are afraid. Are you afraid?"
Her tone was strange, almost playful, yet the weight of her words carried an edge sharper than any blade. The Pri Minister frowned, sensing the shift in her mannerisms. She was speaking in a way that unsettled him, her confidence bordering on madness. But before he could formulate a response, Hua Jing moved.
In an instant, she was no longer standing before him but charging straight at him, her speed unnatural, her presence suffocating. His instincts scread at him to move, to flee, but before he could act, she was already upon him. Her face, still stained with the remnants of battle, was a terrifying sight up close. Her smirk deepened, and her voice dropped to a whisper just inches from his ear.
"You wanted entertainnt?" she breathed. "Let entertain you."
With one swift motion, her blade swung.
The Pri Minister, despite his fear, was no amateur. His own sword was in his hand in an instant, the clang of tal ringing out as he parried her attack at the last possible second. He exhaled, stepping back, his lips twisting into a smirk of his own.
"I quite wanted to be entertained," he admitted, his voice steadying. He adjusted his grip on the hilt of his sword, eting Hua Jing’s dark gaze. "Then let’s make sure this is entertaining for both of us."
Hua Jing wasted no ti. She lunged again, her sword cutting through the air with deadly precision. The Pri Minister dodged, barely evading her strike before countering with a swift thrust of his own. Hua Jing twisted, her movents fluid, almost dance-like, as she avoided the attack and retaliated with a sweeping kick.
The Pri Minister staggered but recovered quickly, his blade slicing towards her in a deadly arc. Hua Jing t it mid-swing, their swords locking together with a sharp, grating sound. The pressure between them was imnse, sparks flying as they both pushed against each other, neither willing to give an inch.
Their gazes locked, battle-hardened wills clashing in an unseen war just as fierce as the one they fought with steel. Then, without warning, Hua Jing disengaged, slipping under his guard in a maneuver so swift it almost seed like she had vanished. Before he could react, pain blood along his side as the tip of her blade nicked his ribs, drawing the first blood between them.
The Pri Minister stumbled back, his breath hitching as he pressed a hand to the wound. He glanced down at the blood staining his fingers before looking back up at Hua Jing, who stood before him, still poised, still smirking.
"Is that all, my Lord?"
she taunted, twirling her sword in one hand as if the battle had been nothing more than a casual spar.
The Pri Minister chuckled darkly, his grip on his sword tightening. "You are sothing else, Lady Hua," he admitted. "I see now why the Crown Prince chose you."
Hua Jing’s smirk did not waver. "It is not a matter of choice, my Lord. It is a matter of fate."
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