Page 565

A sword that assassinates only emperors.

A sword that, once wielded, ensures no emperor can escape the fate of death.

Heroic Wolfman Chronicles Chapter 85: The Oath to End Emperor Martial and the Rise of Twin Dragons

The square was eerily silent, save for the new emperor’s ragged breaths—his punctured throat emitting faint, hissing gasps.

It wasn’t that the orcs were slow to react—it was simply that no one had expected such a scene.

The first orc emperor in four hundred years, hailed as the mightiest Emperor Martial of all time, had been assassinated during his own coronation.

The golden crown symbolizing his throne, which had rested upon his head for less than three minutes, now lay in the dust, stained with blood.

After a moment of stunned silence, chaos erupted across the square.

Shamans scrambled to cast healing miracles upon their mortally wounded sovereign, only to remember too late that no restorative magic could affect a Sword Saint. Loyal followers of Samantha rushed forward, attempting to steady their injured ruler, yet they could do nothing to halt the collapse of his mighty frame. The leaders of various clans wore expressions of shock and calculation, weighing the implications of this sudden upheaval, while elite warriors fanned out in defensive formations, wary of further human treachery.

A few cautious warriors approached the fallen human Sword Saint, Hades. Though the young Saint's heart and lungs had been shattered by Samantha’s desperate counterstrike, his body was still that of a Sword Saint—who could say for certain whether he was truly dead?

Yet amid the pandemonium, one figure at the very center of it all was forgotten.

Enlai Ke.

The mastermind of the northwestern rebellion, his feigned weakness had made him easy to overlook. And aside from Samantha, no one had noticed the faint smile he wore moments before.

Thus, when he struck, even the Pope and Chen Xuanfeng were too slow to react.

With a hollow boom, Enlai Ke’s kneeling form suddenly exploded into a vortex of black mist, engulfing both himself and Hades’ body. Sharp-eyed orcs glimpsed not mere smoke, but countless fluttering black feathers—manifestations of dark magic. Those caught within the fog lost all senses, even awareness of their own limbs, stumbling back in disarray.

"Hmph, unfold—Night's Gaze!" Chen Xuanfeng snarled. Recognizing the signature "Shadow Standard" technique, he activated one of his few remaining dark spells, his pupils turning pitch-black to penetrate the darkness.

But he was still a step too late. By the time his vision pierced the mist, he saw Enlai Ke kneeling beside Hades’ corpse, gripping both "Frost's Lament" and "Kingslayer" in his hands. The young dark mage lifted his head, flashing Chen Xuanfeng a mocking grin before vanishing into a swirling void.

Moments later, the mist dissipated, leaving only Hades’ cooling body behind.

"Damn it… teleportation magic…" Chen Xuanfeng muttered, his brow furrowed. He now saw the entire scheme clearly—exploiting the orcs’ distraction during the coronation, using Enlai Ke’s capture as cover for Hades’ infiltration, then striking at the pivotal moment to assassinate Samantha, the orcs’ mightiest warrior.

And "Kingslayer" had been the key to their success.

Samantha’s power had reached a level where none could defeat him outright. Even at his most vulnerable, no mere blow could kill him. But "Kingslayer," the cursed blade known as the doom of all kings, carried a near-mythical power. Legend held that the Fate Goddess had placed a curse upon it—so long as the target was a hereditary ruler, and the wielder seized a close-range opportunity, no king, no matter how mighty or vigilant, could escape assassination. The fatal wound, sustained by an inescapable force, defied all healing.

Today, that legend was reaffirmed—imperial power had yielded to fate's curse.

Chen Xuanfeng didn't approach Samantha. The mortally wounded emperor was already surrounded by his most loyal guards and kin, who barred all others save the Pope from approaching. Even from dozens of meters away, Chen Xuanfeng’s keen ears caught every sound—the gasping, struggling breaths, the faint scratching of fingers against stone as if writing something, the hushed whispers and sobs of those nearby. But nothing spoke louder than Samantha's fading heartbeat.

A pierced throat, severed spine, and hemorrhaging arteries—beyond magical healing—meant certain death for even the strongest. Had Samantha retained the power of Warcraft Orc Warriors, he might have clung to life. But now, he could only succumb to death’s embrace.

Sure enough, before long, the heartbeat faded entirely. Moments later, a chorus of wails erupted from the crowd, and even those farther away understood—the newly crowned orc emperor had fallen.

...Samantha is dead...

...Why did it have to be like this...

...This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Samantha shouldn’t have died like this...

...He should have remained seated upon his throne, mighty and unyielding, until I toppled him with greater strength. His death should have been glorious, befitting his title as the Orc King and a peerless warrior...

Frowning, Chen Xuanfeng gazed distantly at the grieving orcs surrounding Samantha, an odd hollowness in his chest.

For years, he had seen this indomitable orc king as his ultimate rival. Even before meeting Catherine, long before mastering the NINE YIN TRUE ENERGY, this conviction had taken root—simply because Samantha was strong enough to warrant it.