Hurt my loved ones? I'm not guarding this country's borders anymore!

The wind seemed to freeze at that moment.

Below the altar, the once arrogant shouts of battle have now been replaced by a suffocating sound of metal clashing.

"Snap! Snap!"

Those were the footsteps of the advancing Northern cavalry.

Five thousand iron cavalrymen, like a black, moving city wall, caused the earth to tremble with every step they took.

What stood in their way was An Shilong's last trump card—three hundred "Blood Burning Death Warriors" who had taken banned drugs and were said to be immune to pain.

But in the face of a real war machine, so-called ferocity is nothing but a joke.

"The Mo Dao Formation"

Qinglong held his sword in one hand, his voice so cold it didn't sound like he was directing a massacre, but rather like he was cleaning up trash.

"Proceed."

"Whoa!!"

The iron cavalry in the front row roared in unison, raising their long sabers like a forest, and then slashing down in perfect unison.

"Pfft—"

There wasn't much intense fighting.

There was only one-sided slaughter.

Those bio-engineered zombies who could normally tear tigers and leopards apart were rendered helpless before this steel wall, falling in swathes like harvested wheat.

Limbs flew everywhere, blood flowed like rivers.

This is a dimensional reduction attack.

"No...this is impossible..."

An Shilong, on horseback, was ashen-faced, and the jeweled longsword in his hand trembled slightly.

He watched as his prized private army crumbled in minutes, and as the highly paid experts he had hired were slaughtered like dogs.

Even a fool would understand.

This is the difference between a regular army and a private army.

This is the source of Shen Jinglong's confidence to treat him and his son like monkeys.

"Run...run fast!"

The remaining private army's psychological defenses completely collapsed.

Some threw down their weapons and knelt down to beg for mercy, while others desperately rushed outwards, trying to find a way to survive.

But all they were met with was the cold edge of a blade.

"Seal off the entire city, not even a fly should be allowed to escape."

Shen Jinglong's words were like an imperial edict.

In the short time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

Below the altar, apart from the Northern cavalry, there was not a single enemy standing.

Corpses lay strewn across the field, the stench of blood so strong it was nauseating.

An Shilong rode alone on his horse, surrounded by mountains of corpses and advancing iron cavalry.

He lost.

We lost completely.

"Shen Jinglong!!"

Despair at its extreme turns into madness.

An Shilong's eyes were bloodshot, and he let out a mournful roar.

"You ruined everything I had! I'll make you pay with your life!!"

"drive!"

He spurred his horse, raised his longsword, and charged alone toward the towering altar.

Is this the swan song of a filial son?

No, this is a gambler's final madness.

"For the Prince An's Mansion! For glory! Kill!!"

He roared madly, and his warhorse trampled the stone steps and charged up the sacrificial altar.

however.

Shen Jinglong, sitting in the armchair, didn't even change his posture.

He didn't even glance at the broken teacup.

Just as An Shilong's horse was about to step onto the flat ground of the high platform.

"call out--"

A very faint sound of something cutting through the air rang out.

A black crossbow bolt, seemingly from nowhere, shot with such precision as if calculated, piercing An Shilong's throat.

"Crunch... crunch..."

An Shilong's furious roar abruptly stopped.

He clutched his neck, and blood gushed from between his fingers.

He stared in disbelief, his body swayed, and he fell headlong off his warhorse.

"Bang."

He fell at Shen Jinglong's feet, less than three meters away from the armchair.

But those three meters are an insurmountable chasm he can never cross in his lifetime.

An Shilong twitched twice, his gaze finally falling on his father on the bronze pillar beside him.

In those eyes, there was fear, resentment, and a hint of... relief.

Then, the pupils dilated.

He died.

The entire room fell silent.

Only the mournful sound of the wind blowing through the bronze pillar remained.

"Long'er... my Long'er..."

King Anle, nailed to the bronze pillar, watched helplessly as all of this unfolded.

He watched as his army was destroyed.

She watched as her only son lay in a pool of blood like a dead dog, his eyes wide open in death.

The process of hope being crushed bit by bit until it turns into despair is ten thousand times more cruel than physical pain.

"ah,,,"

"ah----!!"

King Anle suddenly looked up to the sky and let out a long howl, his voice as mournful as a vengeful ghost.

"Shen Jinglong! You'll die a horrible death!!"

"I am a prince! I possess the golden decree! I am the future emperor!"

"Hahahaha... They're all dead... They're all dead..."

He's crazy.

Under that immense shock, the ruthless warlord who had endured for ten years suffered a complete mental breakdown.

He was shedding bloody tears while letting out a chilling, maniacal laugh.

"Retribution... hahaha... all retribution!"

"Nobody gets to live... nobody gets to live..."

Shen Jinglong slowly stood up.

He walked to An Shilong's body and kicked it away, as if it were a rock blocking his way.

Then, he went to the King of Anle, who had gone mad.

"Is this insane?"

Shen Jinglong looked at the disheveled, delirious old man without a trace of pity in his eyes.

Only endless indifference.

"When you slaughtered my entire Shen family back then, did you never imagine this day would come?"

"You dare talk about retribution?"

King Anle seemed to understand, yet also seemed not to understand.

He just stared intently at Shen Jinglong, muttering repeatedly, "Devil...you are a devil..."

"If you think I'm the devil."

Shen Jinglong reached out and slowly placed his hand on the crown of Prince Anle's head.

Internal energy surged within his palm.

"Then go to hell and repent to my family."

"In your next life, remember to keep your eyes open."

Don't mess with people you can't afford to mess with.

"Click."

A soft sound.

The internal force instantly shattered the brain of the King of Anle.

The maniacal laughter abruptly stopped.

King Anle's eyes instantly lost focus, and his head drooped limply.

This prince, who had been tyrannical in Cangcheng and even plotted to seize the throne, died like a stray dog ​​on the high platform he had originally intended to use for a "sacrifice to heaven".

There were no spectacular battles.

There was no last-ditch effort before its death.

This is the ending Shen Jinglong gave him—to be crushed like an ant.

After dealing with this pile of garbage.

Shen Jinglong took out a handkerchief from his pocket, carefully wiped his hands, and then casually threw it on the corpse of Prince Anle.

He turned around.

His gaze fell on the corner.

There is still one survivor there.

He is the sole messenger of the Sun Temple.

The man was huddled on the edge of the stone platform, trembling all over, gripped by a fear that came from the depths of his soul.

When Shen Jinglong's gaze swept over, the divine messenger was so frightened that he couldn't even stand up straight and knelt down with a thud.

"No...don't kill me! I'm a divine messenger! I have diplomatic skills..."

Shen Jinglong didn't speak, but simply made a hand gesture behind him.

A red figure appeared behind the divine messenger like a ghost.

It was the Vermilion Bird.

She toyed with a delicate crystal bottle that emitted a faint, exotic fragrance in her hand, her face bearing that signature, alluring yet deadly smile.

"My Lord, don't be afraid."

Zhuque crouched down, like a caring older sister, and reached out to pat the divine envoy's face, which was covered with strange patterns.

"My Dragon Lord said that you can only die if I tell you to die."

"Right now, we don't want you to die."

She waved the small bottle near the messenger's nose.

That was Qin Xuerong's "truth serum," which was said to be able to make even the dead reveal their secrets after smelling it.

"Let's have a chat."

Suzaku's voice was as gentle as if she were coaxing a child, but every word pierced the messenger's heart like an icicle.

"Let's start with a simple question..."

"Seven years ago, the Shen family was massacred."

Zhuque's eyes suddenly turned cold.

"Except for Prince Anle, that barking dog."

"That 'big shot' hiding in the capital, the one who actually gave you the orders to take action even if it offended the Dragon Kingdom..."

"Who is it?"