Chapter 1252: Chapter 424: Since Ancient Tis, Good Ministers Have Chosen Their Masters to Assassinate_4
“Boring!”
Martia shook her head slightly. Sukra had already resigned herself to death, facing it without resistance. The Death Knight, ruthless and laconic, failed to deliver the sorrowful farewell she had hoped to witness.
This was truly disappointing!
In the arena, a group of devils steadied their footing, casting sullen yet fearful glances at the three overlords.
So, you guys can actually control the Death Knight, huh? xN
Their gazes were unbearably intrusive, lacking tact. Martia casually pointed toward the shell formation of the Seraphs and commanded, “Death Knight, kill them all.”
Whether it was the angels or their own ranks she referred to, Martia casually gestured with a sweeping motion that encompassed a vast area. Who she actually intended for, only Hell knew.
The devils, quick to recognize the situation, unleashed a chorus of curses and scattered in every direction as if fleeing for their lives.
Suddenly, a shadowy portal opened, and the Undead Warhorse stepped into its depths.
In the next mont, the portal materialized behind Martia. A chilling glint of swordlight descended rcilessly, slicing from the top of her head down to between her legs.
Bisection!
A streak of blood split across Martia’s face. Before the blood could even spray out, it was corroded into ashes by the concentrated Death Aura. As her halves toppled to the ground, disbelief lingered in her eyes.
Who am I? Where am I? Is this key I hold… fake?
The Death Knight went berserk, launching an attack on its own master. Setoras and Enguima—being the closest—were utterly shocked. The forr leapt back to safety, while the latter found escape impossible. As Shadowmare charged, Enguima roared defiantly and activated his Half-Dragon transformation.
Simultaneously, Enguima commanded the Death Knight to cease its attack.
Swish!
A flash of holy light swept past; a mutated arm fell to the ground, and a white skull rolled twice on the floor.
Enguima retreated while howling in pain, reconstructing his severed arm through sheer ntal prowess. Gripping a blood-red battle axe, he did not attempt to retrieve the skull imdiately but cautiously backed toward Setoras instead.
On the other side, the Death Knight reached out and claid the fallen skull, affixing it to its vacant neck.
“Cackle, cackle, cackle—!!!”
A piercing laugh erupted as white flas flickered in the hollow sockets of the Death Knight’s blackened skull. The Undead Warhorse stomped its front hooves onto the halved corpse of Martia, grinding her into the ground.
Another flash of white light appeared, accompanied by Martia’s anguished screams. The swordlight severed her arm that still clutched the skull.
The Death Knight grasped her delicate severed hand, Death Aura encircling it as it transford into skeletal dust. Reverently, it set the skull upon its own neck.
The two skulls began to rge slowly, and the white flas dancing in the Death Knight’s eyes grew into blazing pillars of light.
Three keys, two reunited.
“How could this be possible? What the hell is going on?”
Setoras gripped the final key tightly. Unwilling to accept failure, he tested its authenticity yet again and confird it was real. As far as he could tell, the Death Knight should still obey his commands.
The reality, however, starkly contradicted his belief. The Death Knight was entirely beyond his control.
“It’s an ancient truth: loyal servants will slay their master. Believe —if you avoid Hell, then who will go in your stead?”
The Death Knight opened his jaws wide and bellowed with laughter. “If I can betray the Goddess, I can certainly betray you lot. What’s so surprising about that? I, the Headless Knight, have always been a faithless scoundrel.”
Even as he spoke, he continued tornting Martia, who was trapped beneath his hooves. With every sweep of his sword, her magnificent figure was rendered into a shattered pile of flesh.
Though, perhaps it’s inaccurate to call it tornt. It was simply that the resilience of the three overlords made them extraordinarily stubborn against the embrace of death, still clinging to life against all odds.
Martia had wanted to leave from the outset. Now humiliated, she was entirely unwilling to remain a mont longer. Her thoughts dispersed into fragnts, transforming into a mass of black mist that surged toward the direction of the Hell Gate.
Normally, the escape wouldn’t require such trouble. However, due to the modifications made to the Hell Gate by the Lord of Envy, Martia’s thoughts had no choice but to take this singular route back to Hell.
“Oh, co now, my beauty. You’ve made it all the way here; why leave in such haste? Why not stay a while longer for so pleasurable company?”
Gray tendrils erupted wildly, spreading and spiraling about, tearing the black mist into fragnts and mocking Martia’s thoughts with utter derision before annihilating them.
A lump of clay might still possess a spark of fire when provoked—how much more for Martia, renowned queen of Hell? The Spider Queen refused to let herself be humiliated by re tendrils, detonating vast swaths of the Seven Deadly Sins as a parting strike on the Death Knight.
Howl.JPG
Yes, this Death Knight was Wayne, and his strategy for handling devils had always been swift and savage.
Infiltration!
Penetrate the devil’s inner circles!
Wayne’s head was always an accessory at best. Wrapped in the Death Knight’s vest system, the skull was rely ornantal, detachable at will—a large or small head didn’t matter to him.
Pretending to be Rone, Wayne “stabbed” Sukra, lowering the defenses of the three overlords before launching a rear ambush, successfully seizing two keys.
Everything went exceedingly well.
Except for Setoras, who, being excessively cautious, fled at the first sign of trouble, leaving behind the third key. Still, aside from that hiccup, it was a perfect plan.
“You… are not the Death Knight.”
Setoras frowned deeply. “You are Wayne, Lundan’s Death Knight. Am I correct?”
“I hid it so deeply, yet you still saw through . It seems that you are one devil who still possesses a brain,” Wayne sneered sarcastically.
You didn’t hide anything, speaking with devilish energy and ghostly vibes. A true Death Knight would never be this degenerate!
Setoras clutched the last key in frustration. “So you admit it so easily? Aren’t you planning to keep pretending and steal this head as well?”
“There’s no need. I already have two keys, and I am now the master of the Headless Knight!”
Wayne erupted into laughter. “Devil, you’ve misunderstood. I have no intention of kindly saving the Headless Knight. I simply find him too powerful to be reduced to serving you as a re dog. If anyone should own him, it should be .”
To put it bluntly, in terms of shares held, Rone’s company—the Headless Knight—is now primarily owned by Wayne. He’s the majority shareholder.
“…”
666, you truly are the real devil! x2
Setoras strongly suspected Wayne’s blood carried traces of devil lineage. His mastery of the dialogue was so stunning, no ordinary person could deliver lines like this even when handed a script.
It didn’t feel staged!
Clack! Clack!
Sharp footsteps echoed as the Headless Knight, Rone, entered the scene wielding the Sword of Lingering Death. His thoughts simultaneously received two commands.
One was from Wayne, the other from Setoras.
Rone did not hesitate. He chose Wayne. Without a head, his body raised the sword and charged toward the devils, killing scores with unstoppable ferocity and leaving them wailing in despair.
The devils, unwilling to linger in the mortal world only to have their thoughts sacrificed needlessly, rushed for the Hell Gate en masse. The Headless Knight refrained from pursuing them and, alongside Wayne, encircled Setoras and Enguima.
Lying motionless on the ground, Sukra demonstrated remarkable commitnt to her role as an actress. If the director didn’t yell “Cut,” she wouldn’t move.
Peeking through the slits of one eye, she spied Rone up front and Wayne behind—a dual generation of Death Knights had descended. The overwhelming safety she felt made her want to play dead forever.
The three Seraphs scattered their defensive shell formation and gave chase to the fleeing devils without pause.
The trio of angels caught up to the slowest one, and amidst his cries for help, they descended upon him with unrelenting brutality—their Legion’s favored tactic of group combat.
In typical circumstances, angels glorify this tactic as Divinely Rendered Justice, Sacred Judgnt, or Judgnt of the Holy Light. It’s symbolic of Heaven’s righteous and inspiring positive image.
However, given the devils were whipped into a retreat, solely focused on fleeing; despite their nurical advantage and superior strength, they never turned back—resulting in the three Seraphs racking up an impressive showing of dominance.
To outsiders, one might think they were being pursued by three Seraphs instead!
“Now it’s just us. A fair two-versus-two.”
Wayne lazily hurled Shadowmare forward—the white Knight’s Greatsword spinning towards Setoras and Enguima, who each opted for a safer evade.
From behind, Rone raised a hand and caught Shadowmare midair.
As his fingers tightened around the hilt, a heartbeat-like shock slightly resonated.
“Headless Knight, I command you by the na of a Death Knight—kill them.” Wayne tapped his skeletal head lightly as he spoke.
“I am not the Headless Knight!”
Rone countered aloud, gently brushing over Shadowmare with an almost tender gesture, as though stroking Yuliya herself.
“Old friend, it has been too long. Today, march with into war…”
“And cleanse the sha!”
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