At the same time.
On the other side of the capital, the group of mages led by Sylas was charging straight toward the palace.
The street ahead was already empty. The civilians who had heard the news had fled quickly, making the normally lively, bustling avenue seem strangely quiet at this moment.
Sylas walked at the very front of the formation. Behind him, hundreds of mages followed closely, magical halos flickering around their bodies, ready to strike at any moment.
Liliana spoke beside him. "We've prepared for this uprising for a long time, and we still have some trump cards left. Everyone is putting everything on the line this time. We have to succeed!"
"Don't worry. We will."
Sylas nodded in response.
As the group advanced, a cavalry force gradually appeared at the end of the street ahead. There were also several hundred of them.
"Mages, surrender now!"
The leading knight shouted loudly from horseback. In his hand, he held a knight's lance three or four meters long. He wore bright silver armor, and the blue cloak behind him drifted in the wind. His eyes were imposing, and his presence was impressive.
"Look at that. What a majestic outfit."
Sylas ignored him and continued leading the group forward.
Seeing this, the leading knight no longer hesitated and loudly ordered, "Everyone, charge! Suppress them!"
The next moment, he urged his horse forward and launched a charge.
Sylas also charged ahead first. He raised his hand and flung out his long chain, which wrapped around the lance stabbing at him in midair.
Then he suddenly pulled with his hand, bursting out with considerable strength and dragging the knight directly off his horse.
The knight steadied himself.
The two sides then began fighting on the ground. The knight freed his weapon from the chain, swung it up, producing waves of humming sound, then smashed it toward Sylas.
Sylas dodged sideways. The knight's lance slammed heavily into the ground, leaving a small pit.
At the same time, a surge of powerful magic emerged from Sylas's hand and sent the knight flying.
The knight quickly got up and looked at Sylas with a grave expression. The next second, he charged forward again without hesitation.
At this moment, the forces on both sides had also clashed.
However, it was obvious that the troops led by the knight were no match for the mages. The battle did not last long before it ended.
A mage looked at the knight Sylas had defeated, who was lying in a pile of wall debris and unable to get back up. He raised the staff in his hand, magical light glowing on it, preparing to deliver the fatal blow.
The next second, a hand stopped him.
The mage looked sideways in confusion.
No emotion could be seen in Sylas's dark eyes. Then, in a calm tone, he said, "They are only following orders. The weapons in our hands should be pointed at those in power."
After saying that, he no longer stopped the mage. He turned and continued toward the palace.
The mage looked at his back, lowered his staff, and followed.
Behind him, the mages continued following.
That was right. There was no conflict between them and these guards. The ones oppressing them were not these soldiers who stood up to protect ordinary people in times of danger.
It was those who held power yet acted against them however they pleased, those in power and the Mageseekers!
Sylas advanced at a pace that was not particularly slow, but also not fast.
His gaze fell on the empty street, and he looked around with great interest at everything outside the prison.
This was the outside world.
This was the capital he had not seen again in fifteen years.
It seemed many changes had occurred.
Bicycles fallen on the street, candy apples dropped in panic and scattered all over the ground, streetlights standing on both sides of the road, and newspapers drifting in the wind.
Sylas stopped in front of a newspaper stand and casually picked up a thick newspaper, placing his gaze on it.
He found that it seemed to be a collected edition of an illustrated story. The story's name was Hero vs. Dragon, and on the cover was an old mage leaning on a wooden staff.
"Those are newspapers. They only became popular in the capital during the first half of the year. And there are also those bicycles and streetlights."
Seeing that Sylas seemed interested in the newspaper, Liliana spoke from the side. "Sylas, now isn't the time for us to stop."
Sylas casually flipped through a few pages and nodded slightly, continuing toward the palace while reading.
At the same time.
The palace.
News of the mage riot inside the capital had already arrived. Jarvan III had urgently convened a meeting, and reports had already come in from many streets.
"Your Majesty, cavalry squads are continuously heading to the various streets where mages are causing trouble. This rebellion will surely be suppressed before long."
A minister reported to Jarvan III.
Although that was what he said, Jarvan III stood before the conference table, his brows still tightly furrowed. He sighed heavily and said in a low voice, "This day was bound to come sooner or later. We created the disaster before us with our own hands."
"Father, you have already done very well."
Jarvan IV stood beside him and consoled him in a gentle voice. "We will soon suppress this farce."
At this moment, a guard ran in from outside and knelt on one knee. "Report, Your Majesty! A mage force is charging straight toward the palace!"
Hearing this, Jarvan IV immediately volunteered. "Father, I will intercept them!"
"I'm counting on you."
Jarvan III nodded, agreeing to it.
Jarvan IV swiftly left the meeting hall.
As Jarvan III continued issuing orders, minister after minister received their commands and hurriedly left, devoting their energy to calming this rebellion.
At this moment, Minister Roy said, "Your Majesty, the current situation is unclear, and those mages seem to be coming for you. You should first move to the inner chamber to protect your safety and wait for His Highness Jarvan IV to suppress the rebellion. The matters here can be left to me."
His brows were also furrowed. How many years had it been since such a thing had happened in the capital?
Or perhaps it had never happened before.
For there to be mages of such scale launching a rebellion in the capital.
Although the incident had come suddenly and caught people off guard, fortunately, there was still room to turn things around.
Hearing this, Jarvan III nodded slightly. Under Xin Zhao's protection, he left the meeting room and moved to the secure inner chamber.
The inner chamber was not small, about the same size as the meeting hall, with three or four rooms. Sunlight shone in through the windows, and the light grew softer and darker from the outside inward.
At this moment, several soldiers stood guard outside the door.
Inside the room, Jarvan III spoke. "Xin Zhao."
"This subject is here."
Xin Zhao bowed beside him.
Jarvan III ordered, "Take your hidden guards and go quickly to help that child suppress the rebellion."
Xin Zhao said, "This subject's duty is to protect Your Majesty's safety."
Jarvan III stood by the window, his gaze watching the troops hurrying outside. "I am inside this fortress as solid as iron. What danger could there be? Right now, the ones who should be protected more are the people suffering in the capital. You understand me best. I don't like needless hesitation, so this is an order, Xin Zhao."
Xin Zhao stood in place for several seconds before finally lowering his head. "This subject obeys."
After Xin Zhao left, before long, the four soldiers guarding outside the door entered the inner chamber and separated to watch the surroundings, protecting the king's safety.
Jarvan III sat in a chair within the shadows, his expression heavy. No one knew what he was thinking.
Time passed minute by minute.
In a blind spot where the lines of sight of the four guards perfectly missed one another, a figure quickly and silently entered the inner chamber through the open window.
It was a man holding a blade. His cheeks were gaunt, his skin naturally pale, and his cold eyes showed not the slightest emotion.
His figure seemed to blend perfectly with the shadows, like a traveler walking along the other side of the world.
Behind Jarvan III, a dagger flashing with cold light had quietly drawn near.
At this critical moment, a dagger suddenly flew in and arrived before the figure in the blink of an eye, knocking aside the descending dagger.
With a clear clang, Jarvan III heard the sound and quickly lunged forward.
"Protect His Majesty!"
"An assassin!"
"Brazen assassin!"
The four guards quickly reacted and abruptly looked toward the assassin, then charged straight at him.
At this moment, the man seemed greatly surprised. His gaze turned toward the window.
A tight, red-haired figure appeared by the window, the corner of her mouth curving into a cold smile.
"Looks like you didn't notice me, old man."
As her words fell, Katarina leapt forward. Her figure flashed directly and appeared in front of the assassin. Her dagger swung down from midair. "Your skills seem to have regressed. I've been watching you from the very beginning, Du Couteau."
The dagger descended. Du Couteau stood in place and calmly blocked it, then frowned. "Why are you here? Also, do not call your father by name."
His eyes still showed some surprise. Not only because Katarina had appeared here, but also because of this strength of hers that he could not see through.
He had never felt danger from her before, but at this moment, that feeling was extremely strong.
"If I hadn't come, was I supposed to watch you drag the family into the mud? You've been schemed against and you don't even know it. Also, I'm here to repay the assassination attempt."
Facing her own father, Katarina's eyes flashed with killing intent like rising cold light.
The man before her shared the same blood as her, but aside from that, there was not even the slightest bit of affection between father and daughter.
When they met, there was only a fight to the death.
At this moment, the four guards also charged forward, but in an instant, Du Couteau knocked them down.
"The obstacles are gone. Though I truly didn't expect to have a different kind of duel to the death with you in Demacia."
Du Couteau's calm face was expressionless, and his eyes sized up Katarina.
He always felt that this daughter of his had become somewhat unfamiliar.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jarvan III trying to escape outside. In a casual tone, he said, "Let me see how much you've improved. From here on, one wrong step means death."
His voice was cold and merciless. The next second, his figure vanished from where he stood at extreme speed, using the family's inherited Shunpo.
And the weapon in his hand had already stabbed toward Jarvan III.
Katarina moved in that same instant, blocking the dagger once again. Two pairs of cold eyes met in that moment, and neither side concealed the killing intent in their eyes.
The next moment, both sides moved together.
First came a close-quarters fight. Each of them held two daggers, swinging them with no strength held back as they attacked the other's vital points.
The small daggers in their hands were like sturdy shields. Clanging sounds rang out nonstop, and sparks occasionally sprayed through the air.
After several rounds without a victor, both sides pulled away at the same time. What followed was a tacit contest of movement techniques.
Katarina had learned all her skills from Du Couteau, but in order to pass those skills on to Katarina, Du Couteau had used inhuman training methods.
He did not care in the slightest whether he might lose his daughter's life in an accident.
All along, he had only raised her as a killing machine.
If he lost her, he would simply make another.
Though talent like hers was not easy to create, it was nothing more than a matter of time.
If one woman was not enough to give birth to one, then he would find several more women.
He had long imagined that this day would come, the day the killing machine he had created with his own hands would point her weapon at him.
It was inevitable, just as he had personally cut down his own father.
He was not sad. He was even extremely excited. At this moment, there was a feeling in his heart like seeing a work of art he had personally carved finally take shape.
This was the sense of honor that came from being the creator of a work of art.
At this moment, Du Couteau's aura as someone who had killed countless people was revealed. An invisible pressure belonging to a powerful fighter spread from him, and the corner of his mouth curled into a cold, even delighted smile.
"Come! Kill me, and you will be the strongest assassin. I allow you to step on me and rise higher, Katarina. But do not let me see your weakness."
The next second, Du Couteau's figure flashed again and suddenly appeared before Katarina.
Katarina retreated. Light flashed on her body, and her figure directly disappeared.
This was Shunpo. In ordinary use, it was a technique that allowed movement at extreme speed, but its true essence was spatial magic.
It was teleportation in the truest sense, traveling through space to move.
It was precisely because she possessed the talent to learn spatial magic that Du Couteau had chosen her between the two sisters.
Katarina had indeed mastered it, but even so, before this, she had never dared show off such skills before Du Couteau.
No matter how hard she worked, in movement techniques, she had never been Du Couteau's match.
However, after coming to Demacia, she had finally found where the problem lay.
It was because she had wanted so much to surpass Du Couteau, wanted so much to become the strongest assassin, that day after day, she had squeezed her body and squeezed her potential dry.
This had made her body, which looked powerful on the surface, actually reach the verge of collapse.
After coming to Demacia and staying beside that guy, she no longer forced herself the way she had in Noxus. Instead, for the first time in a long while, she had lived a relaxed life.
To be honest, during this period, she had lived very comfortably.
As her pressure was released, the shackles were finally broken through, and Katarina felt as if she had been completely reborn.
At this moment, the two people in battle unleashed all the skills they had accumulated throughout their lives without holding anything back. Their figures flickered throughout every corner of the inner chamber like ghostly shadows.
The sounds of blades colliding came from everywhere, and sparks from the intense clashes scattered in all directions.
This was speed so fast that even watching it with the naked eye was dizzying. One dagger after another began shooting through the air.
This was another function of spatial magic, storage.
Both Katarina and Du Couteau had stored large numbers of daggers in space, ready to use at any time.
Several daggers had once flown toward Jarvan III, only to be intercepted midair by other daggers.
This was not only a clash of life and death, but also a contest between assassination and protection.
Suddenly, several drops of crimson blood scattered. The two figures separated and landed on opposite sides.
Outside Dawn Castle.
Sylas had led the group to the foot of the castle. By the time they arrived, a formation of soldiers had already been arranged here, determined to guard the gate.
However, the expected siege battle did not begin.
Liliana simply gave the mages behind her a look, and several mages quickly responded.
They split away from the group, seven to a team, two teams in total, then stood in circles on the left and right and began casting magic.
Several waves of magical light combined in midair, and beneath their feet, a massive magic array appeared. Only after absorbing a certain amount of magic did the array disappear.
The mages' faces turned pale, clearly having spent a great deal of magic.
The next second, with a rumble, as if an earthquake had struck, huge stones began protruding from the ground and gradually formed a thick stone arm.
Sylas looked at the scene before him, rather surprised.
Liliana said, "This is stone giant summoning magic. The stone giants summoned can last for half an hour. They will help us hold off these soldiers. We'll seize the chance to rush into Dawn Castle and capture Jarvan III alive!"
As she spoke, she released another burst of magic into the sky.
In less than a minute, a flock of birds appeared in the sky, clearly several dozen wyverns.
They had fierce momentum and let out shrill, piercing cries in the sky.
Wyverns were draconic creatures, similar to Silverwing Raptors, but the ones flying here now were clearly far more violent.
At the same time, two enormous stone giants emerged from the ground. They were a full eight meters tall and carried tremendous presence.
"Roar!"
Under control, they quickly locked onto the gate and let out a deafening roar, then launched a charge.
Huge thudding footsteps rang out, and the ground trembled faintly. The soldiers in front of the gate did not dare block them at all, all dodging left and right.
In the sky, those watchful wyverns could no longer hold back either. They flapped their wings and launched their attack.
Boom!
With a loud explosion, the two stone giants slammed into the gate. In just one hit, a crack appeared in the gate.
Dawn Castle was not a true city, and its gate was not as sturdy or impact-resistant as the gates of a large city.
With the second impact, an opening large enough to pass through appeared.
"Some of you stay behind. The rest, charge into the palace with me!"
Liliana shouted loudly.
Then she and Sylas rushed toward the palace.
The battle had already begun. After they entered the palace, there was still some distance to Jarvan III's chambers.
Not long after they left,
"Roar!"
A thunderous roar rang out. The wyverns that had been extremely frenzied just a moment ago suddenly froze neatly in place and prostrated themselves on the ground, trembling.
The mages who had stayed behind were also startled. They felt an oppressive aura descend upon them, and fear rose uncontrollably in their hearts.
They saw surging flames burning in the air, pouncing down from the top of the city wall. From within the flames, a giant blazing dragon suddenly emerged, looking down on everything as if she had been waiting for a long time.
She leapt down from above and directly pounced onto a stone giant, easily knocking it over. Then, at the stone giant's head, blazing dragonfire surged from her mouth.
On the other side, Garen arrived leading his squad. After seeing the situation, he immediately ordered, "Go reinforce them quickly!"
He charged at the front and locked onto the other stone giant. Without the slightest hesitation, he leapt high into the air.
The enchanted greatsword in his hand flashed with golden light, then slammed heavily into the stone giant's body.
The stone giant staggered and nearly fell, while at the same time swinging its palm toward Garen.
Garen had expected it. He used his greatsword as a shield a step ahead of time and deflected more than half the force of the blow, but his body still flew backward.
Finally, he landed on the ground and barely came to a stop. His eyes were serious, without the slightest fear, and he charged up again.
The battle at the castle gate began.
Inside the inner chamber.
Du Couteau looked at the wound on his shoulder, where blood continuously seeped out, and frowned slightly. His gaze turned toward the unharmed Katarina. "You really have changed."
He remembered his mission, so he said in a low voice, "As a Noxian, you are actually protecting Demacia's king. I don't recall teaching you something like that, Katarina."
Blood dripped from Katarina's dagger. Her vivid red lips curved upward, and her emerald-green eyes were full of indifference. She smiled faintly. "I'll protect whoever I want. What's it got to do with you?"
Du Couteau's expression changed slightly.
Just then, the sound of a door being broken open rang out, and several figures hurried inside.
"Your Majesty, we ministers have arrived late!"
The group led by Tourt immediately went forward after seeing Jarvan III.
Beside him were two people, another noble representative, Josie, and Queen Catherine's elder brother, Croger Ireland.
Behind them followed a group of soldiers.
"Tourt, you've come just in time. Quickly capture the assassin."
Jarvan III struggled to stand, unable to stop himself from coughing a few times.
At this moment, Katarina and Du Couteau also shifted their gazes toward those people.
Tourt helped Jarvan III up and said in a deep voice, "Please rest assured, Your Majesty. We will definitely protect Your Majesty's safety. Leave the rest to us."
Perhaps because of fear and shock, he felt that Jarvan III's body and expression were somewhat stiff at this moment. His face was also pale, making him look somewhat different from usual.
"Good. With you here, I feel relieved."
Jarvan III showed a look of comfort.
As his words fell, with a squelch, a dagger pierced straight through the protective armor on his chest, then was mercilessly pulled out.
The light in Jarvan III's eyes faded, and his body collapsed weakly, blood continuously gushing from his chest.
Katarina frowned deeply.
Tourt also looked to the side and frowned. "What are you doing?"
Josie looked coldly at Jarvan III on the ground. "Why the hell are we still acting? We've already confirmed the area. Only our people are here. We should finish this quickly."
Tourt knew this was true, so he looked at Katarina and gave an order in a thunderous voice. "Brazen assassin, how dare you assassinate the king? Seize her!"
As his words fell, two surges of magic immediately burst out from behind him and shot toward Katarina.
Katarina flashed aside to dodge, but what awaited her was one spell after another in quick succession.
Among the guards behind Tourt, there were clearly four mages.
Soon, under the four mages' bombardment of magic, Katarina was forced into a dead end.
At that moment, she leaned against the wall and let out a disdainful laugh. "How hilarious. The king of Demacia was actually killed by the minister he trusted most. Ministers colluding with ministers, rebelling against their ruler, throwing the court into chaos and trampling every duty a subject owes. I originally thought such vile conduct wouldn't happen in Demacia, but who would've thought that the true heartless beasts were right here in Demacia? Hahaha."
Her laughter was as pleasant as clear bells. This scene was truly rare.
What kind of place was Demacia?
A hall of justice.
Yet such a dramatic scene of ministers murdering their king had happened just like this.
What was happening here was the true rebellion.
"You clearly assassinated the king, yet you still dare laugh like this. You simply don't take us seriously!"
Tourt spoke expressionlessly and threw a set of guard clothing to Du Couteau.
Du Couteau looked at Katarina, who had fallen into danger, without the slightest pity in his eyes, and began changing clothes.
At this moment, Katarina finished laughing and looked toward Du Couteau. "Then it seems you had already joined forces with them in secret. I was wondering how you managed to arrive in Demacia so smoothly and hide here for so long. So someone was protecting you in secret. Amazing. Demacians secretly protecting a Noxian assassin so he can assassinate their king. Truly amazing!"
This scene was so damn perfect it opened the door for perfect, perfect all the way home.
Tourt's eyes were cold. "Brazen assassin, even with death at hand, you still spout nonsense. Kill her!"
"All of you, stop right there!"
Just then, a loud shout came from outside.
Tourt and his subordinates subconsciously looked outside, and then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Second Prince."
The person walking in from outside was none other than Luke. He came in with a squad of men, his expression somewhat subtle. "I didn't expect to see such a grand show."
He slowly came to Katarina's side and shielded her behind him. "Although she's already said all my lines, I still want to say a few words. You people colluded in secret, and as ministers, you murdered your king. Acting so utterly unworthy of being subjects, do you not feel ashamed?"
Although he was smiling, there was not the slightest smile in his eyes. Instead, they gave off a chill.
Tourt quickly sorted out the current situation, then spoke in furious outrage. "Who would have thought, Second Prince, that you had long harbored treasonous thoughts, secretly raising assassins to murder the king. I knew His Majesty Jarvan III bringing you back from the border back then was not the right decision! Now, your ambition has finally been exposed. You are utterly unworthy of being a son! Men, seize him!"
His subordinates immediately moved forward, and naturally, the personal soldiers behind Luke were no pushovers.
They all took one step forward in unison, neat and unified, their impressive momentum instantly stunning the other side.
Just as the two sides were about to confront each other, another squad hurried over from the distance.
The person leading them was the commander of the Mageseeker corps, Eldred. He arrived with a group of Mageseekers.
When he arrived at the scene, he immediately saw Jarvan III's corpse and froze, a flash of astonishment passing through his eyes.
Seeing him arrive, Tourt said in grief and fury, "The dignified Second Prince actually colluded with this assassin, coveted the throne, and revealed his blade today to assassinate the king. I even suspect that the mage rebellion in the city was also an intentional act by him to fish in troubled waters! Eldred, take him down at once! Avenge His Majesty Jarvan III!"
"You're pretty skilled at framing people."
Luke was not panicked at this moment and said calmly, "Then why did my father fall on your side?"
"Heh. The wound on His Majesty's chest clearly matches the blade wound made by that assassin you're protecting. Are you still going to argue?"
Tourt sneered several times, his tone increasingly indignant.
Luke ignored him and looked at Eldred. "Furthermore, why would I kill him when everything was perfectly fine? Commander of the Mageseekers, do you trust me, the king's own son, or do you trust these ministers with ulterior motives?"
Eldred's face was heavy. His gaze met Tourt's for an instant, and he looked again at Jarvan III on the ground.
Then his gaze turned toward Luke, and he said coldly, "The Second Prince, Luke, has committed great treason, joining forces with mages to launch a rebellion and publicly murdering his father here in greed for the throne. Such an act deserves death. Take him down!"
His voice was decisive. He was clearly on Tourt's side.
The next moment, the Mageseekers beside him prepared for battle.
Together with Tourt's subordinates, they surrounded Luke, Katarina, and the personal soldiers, clearly preparing to execute them on the spot.
"Wonderful, wonderful."
At this moment, Luke calmly clapped his hands, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint smile as he looked at Tourt. "Since you're using a blade wound to frame me, why don't you examine carefully whether the person lying over there is actually my father?"
As soon as those words fell, Tourt froze. Not only him, everyone around them froze as well.
Tourt immediately bent down and began checking Jarvan III's corpse. The blood was real, but it was cold, and the body was already stiff, far too quickly.
Most importantly, there were those eyes. The light did not reach this place, so they had not been easy to notice.
Now that he looked closely, he realized those eyes were not like living human eyes at all.
They gave off the feeling that this was not a real person.
At this moment, he suddenly realized something and abruptly stood, looking at Luke with horrified eyes.
At the same time, several squads of soldiers suddenly arrived from all directions and surrounded the inner chamber inside and out, pointing their weapons at them.
"How is this possible?"
Josie also crouched down and checked, his voice full of disbelief. The sensation when he had stabbed down had clearly been so real.
"It's a pity we couldn't create recording equipment in time. I didn't expect you all to be this impatient. Otherwise, I definitely would have replayed your performance on loop."
Luke continued speaking at this moment.
Frey had already begun studying Nocturne's demonic power and discovered that this power was very special, capable of doing many things.
Luke had proposed an idea, whether they could create some kind of recording magic so that it could be used one day.
However, the incident had already begun while they were still attempting it.
But whether there was a recording or not did not matter now, because there were already enough spectators.
At this moment, Queen Catherine's elder brother, Croger, was somewhat panicked. He looked at the soldiers pointing their weapons at him and loudly said, "No, no! What exactly is going on? Didn't you see His Majesty being assassinated? It was that Second Prince! I am a general. Listen to my order and capture all these rebels!"
As his words fell, no one moved except for his own subordinates.
And those subordinates, looking at the current situation where they were surrounded, did not dare move either.
"Tourt! What is going on? What exactly happened? Didn't we agree on this?"
Croger looked at Tourt, already somewhat incoherent. "Why did things turn out like this?"
"Idiot! Shut up!"
Tourt glanced at him, then stood up with a gloomy expression and looked at Luke. "His Majesty is dead. His corpse, dead with eyes open, is right here. Even now, do you still want to deceive everyone?"
"Stubborn. Keep being stubborn."
Luke curled his lip in disdain.
"Who said I was dead?"
However, the next second, a familiar voice rang out, making Tourt and the others freeze once again. Immediately afterward, their expressions changed.
Even though at this moment, they had already guessed a little of the problem in their hearts, they still did not dare face it.
Eldred's gaze tightened slightly, then flashed with shock, disbelief, complexity, and many other emotions.
A room door opened, and Jarvan III slowly walked out from inside. His expression did not look good. In his eyes were sorrow, anger, helplessness.
Seeing with his own eyes the minister he trusted drive a blade through his chest, that feeling was not pleasant.
Especially since among these people was the queen's elder brother, Croger Ireland, whom he had once personally appointed as a general.
"Your... Your Majesty."
Croger swallowed with difficulty, feeling as if his heart had fallen from a cliff, filled with incomparable panic.
Naturally, he knew what his current actions represented.
The moment Jarvan III walked out, the situation instantly reversed.
"Damn it, move!"
Seeing Jarvan III walk out, Tourt gave the order without hesitation. His subordinates immediately surged with killing intent and charged toward Jarvan III.
"Eldred, what are you still standing there for? Hurry up and kill that prince over there!"
Tourt looked at Eldred and urged him.
At this moment, Eldred seemed somewhat hesitant and did not move.
"At this point, do you still think you can get out of this unscathed? Jarvan III wants to abolish your Mageseekers. If he doesn't die, how will you preserve the Mageseeker corps? By relying only on that group of mages outside? Stop dreaming! Sooner or later, he will pardon every mage, and when that happens, you Mageseekers will become everyone's enemy and will no longer have any use! As long as we kill everyone who knows the truth now and support an obedient king onto the throne, nothing will change!"
Tourt's expression was somewhat ferocious as he roared at Eldred. "Demacia will still be that Demacia! Move!"
As his words fell heavily, all pretense disappeared. The true purpose of Tourt and the others was thoroughly exposed.
Eldred's gaze tightened slightly. No longer hesitating, he ordered, "Kill!"
As he spoke, he raised an iron staff in his hand. The seemingly ordinary iron staff suddenly released a vast surge of magic in the next second, as though it had been stored inside.
The wave of magic swept out in every direction.
It locked onto the outer perimeter. Amid booming sounds, it knocked down soldier after soldier.
And the surrounding Mageseekers all followed his lead. Hearing the command, they all charged toward Luke.
Tourt's subordinates had also already rushed toward Jarvan III.
Now, they had no room to turn back. The only choice was to leave no one alive and kill everyone who knew the truth.
Only this way could they break open this situation.
Only this way could they cover up the entire truth and throw the blame onto the mages outside.
However, how could Luke give them such an opportunity?
Just then, a figure leapt over at great speed, arriving in an instant like a cold gleam from a spear, accompanied by a gust of swift wind.
He landed in the formation, standing tall with a cold face. With just one sweep of his spear, there seemed to be a faint dragon's roar. The next second, countless figures were sent flying.
Then he stood beside Jarvan III, his eyes cold, like an impenetrable shield without the slightest flaw.
"Xin Zhao."
Seeing the newcomer, Tourt's heart chilled, and he felt the situation becoming worse and worse.
If one asked whom he feared most by Jarvan III's side, there were only Xin Zhao and Tianna.
Tianna had been assigned to the border to suppress the tribes.
Then only Xin Zhao remained.
If Xin Zhao had not been lured away, Tourt would not have chosen to act directly.
At this point, if he still did not understand that they had fallen into a trap, then he would have lived his life for nothing.
The Jarvan III from earlier was fake.
And Xin Zhao had not left at all.
If Xin Zhao had not left, then...
As he thought to this point, a tremor suddenly came from the ground.
Looking outside, he saw that Jarvan IV was also leading a group of troops over, looking at them expressionlessly, his eyes cold.
Sure enough.
The chill in Tourt's heart grew even stronger.
At this moment, Croger directly knelt on the ground. His expression was full of panic, and he felt deep regret.
He should not have gotten involved. He should not have.
Josie's expression did not look good either. He clenched his fists tightly, his heart equally filled with coldness.
Eldred frowned and continued releasing magic.
Meanwhile, Luke's personal soldiers calmly formed their formation and blocked the Mageseekers' attacks.
Among the Mageseekers, there were clearly several mages, but every personal soldier held a petricite shield and did not fear them at all.
At this point, the situation had become increasingly clear.
Tourt had already realized that everything had completely exceeded their expectations.
Perhaps even his uncle had not anticipated the current situation.
From the very beginning, this had been a trap set specifically for them!
The situation was no longer something he could control.
Tourt stared tightly at Luke and still could not help asking, "How exactly did you do it?"
For some reason, he had a feeling that the person who had set this trap had to be this Second Prince, whom he had never truly understood from beginning to end.
He also had never expected that they would actually be fooled by a fake Jarvan III.
That Jarvan III had clearly been able to move and speak. He had only felt that the king's body was somewhat stiff at the time, but had not paid attention.
Thinking of it now, that had not been because he was wearing armor. It was because he himself was not made of flesh and blood.
"Just a small trick, plus a little magic."
Luke revealed a harmless smile.
He possessed Level 7 Puppet Arts. The puppets he created could already pass for the real thing, and they could also be controlled remotely.
At this moment, combined with painting techniques and other methods to create fake skin, then using magic to imitate Jarvan III's voice, it was entirely possible to deceive people and avoid being discovered easily.
For this day, he had prepared for a long time.
He had begun preparing from very early on.
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