Surrender

A stench of blood permeated the air in every direction.

The assassins' bodies lay sprawled everywhere, every one of them decapitated, their severed necks so cleanly cut it was eerie.

The man responsible for this wore an utterly unperturbed expression as he lightly swung his sword, shaking off the blood.

The Sword Saint muttered under his breath.

“You’ve crossed the line a little this time.”

Until now, he had paid little attention to the contest for the imperial throne.

His role was to protect the imperial family, not replace the occupant of the throne at will.

However, the fact that those rats had dared to set foot in his residence was rather irritating.

Even setting his personal feelings aside, if word of this spread, the imperial family's authority could not avoid being tarnished.

“To think such a wastrel came from my bloodline. Albert, my old friend must be wailing in the afterlife.”...