Chapter 60: Step Aside, or Die

The cavalryman was scared witless, frothing at the mouth like a simpleton, having lost control of his bladder and bowels. Each word from Sun Fei echoed like a sharp blade dangling over his head, shining with death’s light. It felt like the slightest hesitation would bring the blades down instantly, chopping him into mincemeat. The agonized screams of his companion, trapped between life and death on the ground, still rang in his ears. Without a moment’s delay, the cavalryman scrambled forward on his knees like a dog, whimpering and begging for mercy. He stuck out his tongue, frantically licking the dust clean from Sun Fei’s leather boots. Once finished, he raised his head, offering a sycophantic grin…

Sun Fei sneered coldly and shook his head. “How dare you, a cowardly worm who only treads on others’ authority, sully the noble word ‘Knight’?”

“I’m not worthy! I’m not worthy! I’m not a Knight, Your Majesty! Just an ordinary cavalryman… spare me, please spare me!” The man knelt, kowtowing frantically, trembling all over. Gone was his earlier haughty demeanor; he was just a wild dog begging for survival.

“I won’t kill you,” Sun Fei stated.

“Ah! Long Live the King! Long Live the King! Thank you, Your Majesty Alexander! Your grace and generosity are beyond compare, I…” Overcome with relief, the cavalryman started gushing praises.

Sun Fei cut him off impatiently. “I myself will not kill you. However… someone else will.” As he spoke, Sun Fei beckoned towards the young man who had earlier suffered a throat-slitting ordeal. Thanks to the effects of the [Health Potion], the young man had recovered fully, though remained slightly fatigued. Supported by friends, he stood at the front of the crowd. Seeing King Alexander wave, he rushed over excitedly, knelt, and performed the full ceremonial greeting for a vassal meeting his king.

“Warrior, what is your name?” Sun Fei asked with a smile.

“Torres, Your Majesty. My name is Fernando Torres.” The young man trembled with excitement. During the battle defending Shampoo City, he had only responded to the call on the final day, volunteering with just half a day on the walls. He hadn’t joined the fiercest fighting, but that brief time was enough to witness King Alexander’s awe-inspiring might practically defeating the enemy single-handedly. Instantly, Torres placed the King on a pedestal as his idol. Every young man dreams of being a hero, and Torres silently vowed to become a warrior like King Alexander: fearless even before the cruelest enemies and the icy grasp of death. That’s why he’d been the first to confront the Zenit Empire cavalrymen when they disrespected Angela.

Sun Fei clapped Torres on the shoulder. With a deft kick, he flicked up the cavalryman’s fallen sword and caught it, handing it to Torres. “Torres, do you dare to kill a man?”

Torres hesitated, instinct wanting to say no. But then, the fierce, desperate fighting from the Stone Bridge this very day flashed vividly through his mind. He gritted his teeth. “Your Majesty, I dare!”

“Good. Then kill this scum for me. This trash insulted Shampoo City.” Sun Fei pointed at the cavalryman groveling and begging on the ground, now too paralyzed by fear to even consider resisting. He just kowtowed harder as Torres approached, sword gripped tightly.

This was Torres’s first killing.

Honestly, as he walked step by step towards the cavalryman, his heart still quivered. But the instant his blade swung down heavily, when enemy blood splattered onto his face, something within Torres’s soul ignited. All fear vanished instantly; his entire body felt like it was burning fiercely.

“Well done, Fernando Torres. Starting today, you are my personal guard captain!” Sun Fei was very satisfied with Torres’s resolve.

He had taken a liking to this sixteen-year-old earlier when the young man bravely shielded Angela to uphold his king’s honor, refusing to retreat even before the raised swords and terrifying presence of the Zenit Empire’s cavalry. Genuine courage isn’t defined when someone is powerful and armed to the teeth down to their gums; true bravery of the spirit shines when one stands against overwhelming odds without any support. While his sword hand had trembled momentarily, this golden-haired youth before Sun Fei was undeniably a true warrior.

“Huh?”

Torres froze briefly. In the next second, happiness seemed to fall upon him straight from the sky. Stunned and almost disbelieving, he finally snapped back to reality thanks to urgent shouts from his friends nearby. Flustered, he quickly knelt once more, stammering thanks for the King’s extraordinary favor. Rising to take his place behind Sun Fei, he remained incredulous about his incredible luck, pinching his thigh repeatedly. The sharp pain proved this wasn’t a dream; he really had become his idol, King Alexander’s personal guard captain. Feeling the admiring stares from his companions in the distance, Torres subconsciously straightened his spine, determined to look every inch the capable warrior.

Underneath the colossal stone monument opposite, Knight Commander Shemark’s mind was utterly tangled.

How? Why? How could this idiotic king from a tiny, weak Sixth-Class Vassal State, a country insignificant as an ant, so brazenly, publicly murder Zenit Empire cavalrymen? How did he dare? Shemark’s finger trembled as he pointed shakily at Sun Fei; his lips fluttered, but he couldn’t force out a single word. That casual flick of Sun Fei’s hand during their earlier, brief contact had effortlessly shattered not only Shemark’s Earth Elemental Combat Aura shield but also his arrogant, unshakable sense of superiority. It instantly made the proud Knight Commander realize this young king’s power far exceeded his own by leagues.

Finishing his business with the cavalrymen, Sun Fei turned back towards Shemark. Frosty murderous intent radiating from him, he advanced step by step, repeating his chilling question: “Tell me, scum. How do you wish to die?”

Shemark’s mind whirled chaotically, filled only by a hollow buzzing sound.

He was absolutely stunned.

He had assumed that, at worst, this reckless king might get brazen enough to kill a few lowly cavalrymen, but he’d never dare seriously harm someone like him, an honored officer of the Empire! Especially someone trusted by Prince Zherkov, the Empire’s second prince who could very well inherit Emperor Yassin’s throne! His connection was far too important! Yet, it seemed he’d guessed wrong. This clueless king from who-knows-where had no intention whatsoever of letting him go.

Now, true fear finally seized Shemark.

His status as an imperial officer offered no shield. His Two-Star Level Earth Elemental Combat Aura wouldn’t save his life. As these two pillars of his power – things he’d always used to bully and intimidate Vassal States – suddenly crumbled, Shemark felt terrifyingly weak and powerless. A shudder ran uncontrollably through him.

Driven purely by animal instinct, he started shuffling backwards, his once-arrogant demeanor crumbling away. Only terror remained in his eyes as he prepared to flee.

Just then—

“Halt! Alexander, stop this madness immediately!”

A sharp voice suddenly rang out from within the crowd on the far side of the circle. Shemark’s eyes lit up with desperate hope: Prince Torbinsky had finally pushed his way through the throng and stepped onto the blood-stained scene!

“Your Highness! Save me, Your Highness!” Shemark scampered towards the young prince, falling over in his haste, abandoning all dignity of a Knight Commander. He prostrated himself at Torbinsky’s feet and started wailing pathetically. “Shampoo City is rebelling! This wicked tyrant seeks to overthrow the Zenit Empire… it’s horrifying! He murdered Empire cavalry without mercy! He even threatened to exterminate the entire Royal Entourage!”

A torrent of malicious blame was poured onto Sun Fei with practiced expertise.

Prince Torbinsky looked down at the bodies of the cavalrymen, now mostly deceased, then at the pathetic figure of Knight Commander Shemark. Outrage burned on his young face as he demanded of Sun Fei, “King Alexander, what is the meaning of this? You’d best provide me with a satisfactory explanation!”

Prince Torbinsky had actually been enjoying his evening immensely. In this backwater Vassal State, unknown stress seemed to melt away. No nagging court tutors constantly whispering in his ear about what he couldn’t do; no need to constantly watch his father, Emperor Yassin’s, every expression before speaking or acting; no more swallowing hard feelings before Princes Arshavin and Zherkov. The warmth and enthusiasm of the common people here was a novel, beautiful sensation. Dancing freely around the bonfire, letting loose – this feeling of liberty was a rare treasure back in St. Petersburg. This entire, unique celebration was slowly dissolving Prince Torbinsky’s former dislike and prejudice towards Alexander. Moments ago, listening to the citizens of Shampoo proudly recount tales of Alexander’s bravery, he’d even started thinking, ‘This Alexander fellow doesn’t sound bad. Seems rather interesting, actually. Maybe friends could happen.’

But the scene before him reignited his fury instantly.

Arriving amidst the chaotic crowd, late to witness the beginnings, the prince didn’t grasp the full narrative, only saw the bloody aftermath. Regardless of whether Shemark’s accusation held truth, Prince Torbinsky, as a Prince of the Empire, felt its sacred dignity had been fundamentally challenged. He had to step forward. If Alexander failed to offer a good reason for this bloodshed, the consequences would be disastrously severe.

But the response he received shocked him to the core, seeming almost unbelievable—

“Explanation? Explain what?”

Sun Fei’s lips curled into a disdainful, mocking curve, as if hearing some ridiculous joke. His relentless advance didn’t falter even for an instant. Step by step. Slowly pressing forward. The golden shortsword in his hand pulsed with bone-chilling cold, like the scythe of the God of Death personally harvesting souls. His gaze was as sharp as a dagger. “Prince Torbinsky,” he stated coldly, “do not misunderstand this path and invite unnecessary doom. Step aside. Move. Now. Or face death.”

“You—!!”

The prince choked with rage.

In this moment, he could feel the king’s utterly naked killing intent radiating towards him, freezing his blood. He didn’t doubt for a second that if he kept blocking Shemark, this young king would, without an instant’s hesitation, strike him down right here – regardless that he bore the mantle of an Imperial Prince… Yet, it was precisely because he was an Imperial Prince that he couldn’t grovel and beg like that pitiful cavalryman earlier. Despite being no hero, despite often behaving badly, Prince Torbinsky knew that protecting Knight Commander Shemark was more than shielding one man. Right now, he was protecting the dignity of the entire Zenit Empire itself.

Therefore, knowing deep down he stood no chance, Prince Torbinsky defiantly drew the sword at his own waist.

“Hmm?”

Sun Fei showed a flicker of fleeting surprise at this defiance from the seemingly spoiled prince. He hadn’t expected this spoiled brat to demonstrate such steel in this grim moment… But it was just mild surprise, that’s all. His onward march remained entirely unstoppable. A dragon possesses immortal, forbidden scales – touch one, and destruction follows. Block his path? It mattered not if it was a mere Prince of Zenit. Even Emperor Yassin himself materializing between Sun Fei and his prey wouldn’t have stopped the killing blow.

A stir rustled from within the deeper shadows at the edge of the plaza’s stone terrace. Someone had lurked long enough.

“That man is beyond audacious…” gritted Susan, the swordswoman hidden beneath a wide cloak. She turned sharply towards another cloaked figure beside her. “Princess! Grant me permission to eliminate him!”

“You would not be his opponent,” the Princess countered softly, shaking her head beneath her hood.

“How is that possible, Your Highness? Forgive my bluntness, but I am a Three-Star Warrior!” Susan argued, utterly disbelieving her liege’s assessment. “Even if that savage managed to defeat that venomous mongrel Shemark – Zherkov’s scheming lackey – he stands no chance against me!”

The Princess shook her head again, subtly dismissing Susan. Turning towards a third cloaked form, her fragile voice issued quiet commands, “Knight Commander Roman… it appears this requires your personal touch.”

“It would be my honor to serve Her Highness the Crown Princess,” the figure replied respectfully. He removed the section of his cloak covering his head. Flickering firelight revealed the face – it was the tall, perpetually smiling golden-haired warrior from earlier that dusk.

“One more matter, Knight Commander Roman,” the Crown Princess added thoughtfully, her voice still weak and hollow, like she’d only narrowly recovered from grave illness. “That young Alexander… shows potential. Interesting enough. Why not avoid actually engaging him? Simply bring Dimi back here safely?”

“Hmm?” The blonde warrior paused, slightly confused. “What of Knight Commander Shemark, Your Highness? He…”

A faint, elusive smile seemed to ghost beneath the Crown Princess’s hood. “That ruthless, greedy jackal? Were he to meet his fate here… well,” she mused lightly, “no great loss would befall the Empire. Consider it repayment collected over years of actions secretly staining Imperial honor.” Her tone remained soft, almost dismissive.

The handsome, smiling knight fell silent for several heartbeats. Finally, he nodded. “Understood, Your Highness.” Then, like smoke stirred by wind, his tall frame simply dissolved from sight.

“Crown Princess,” Susan interjected softly, concern evident. “Though Shemark deserved nothing but death… he was Prince Zherkov’s confidante. He handled many… delicate affairs for the Second Prince over the years. If he dies here, Prince Zherkov certainly won’t easily overlook this loss.”