I rode and slashed unparalleled in the Three Kingdoms

Chapter 1028 Bloodbath in the Royal Capital, The Evil King's Curtain Falls (6K8)

On the tower, facing Su Yao's question, Dina, whose mouth was covered, was stunned for a long time before nodding with great difficulty and making a few sounds.

The saintess was wavering uncontrollably.

She never imagined that she would encounter the "Demon King" prophesied in the oracle under such circumstances.

Su Yao slowly released his grip, a faint smile playing on his lips: "Don't be afraid. If I wanted to kill you, you'd be a corpse by now."

What exactly do you want?

“I just said I came to rescue you.” Su Yao paced around the room. “But now it seems we might be able to reach a deeper cooperation.”

Dina stared at him warily: "Cooperation?"

“That’s right.” Su Yao stopped and looked directly into her eyes. “You don’t want to see Vasudeva continue to kill innocent people, and I also need to solve this problem. Our goals are the same.”

"Solve the problem?"

"You mean you want me to help you solve the only problem that Guishuang can use against you?"

Dina smiled sadly:
"If it weren't for Your Majesty Vasudeva, would you immediately lead a large army to crush Gandhara?"

Su Yao laughed heartily upon hearing this: "The Holy Maiden is indeed intelligent. However, you're only half right—"

He suddenly stopped smiling, his eyes sharp: "I will indeed crush Gandhara, but not as a conqueror, but as a liberator."

Dina sneered: "What a high-sounding excuse."

"Think what you want," Su Yao shrugged. "But what I said is the truth."

“What I want is a Kushan that submits to the Han Dynasty and helps me in my western expedition, not a blood-soaked ruin. Vasudeva’s current tyranny will only hasten the country’s demise and split it into pieces that fight each other, which is not conducive to my rule.”

"Your choice is simple: either let that madman continue his bloodbath in the capital, or cooperate with me to stop his atrocities."

“I can assure you that after Vasudeva, the Kushans will usher in a more tolerant future under the rule of our Great Han.”

Dina remained silent for a long time, the moonlight casting a flickering glow on her pale face. Finally, she raised her head and asked, "I need to know your specific plans."

"It's very simple, it won't put you in any difficult position."

Su Yao smiled confidently and said, "I want you to appear at tomorrow's festival and witness our one-on-one duel."

"I will end his tyrannical rule in full view of everyone, and you only need to acknowledge my victory in the name of the temple afterwards."

Dina's pupils contracted slightly: "You want to defeat the God King in front of everyone?!"

"What, you think you can't do it?"

Dina took a deep breath: "His Majesty's power now far surpasses that of mortals; his title of God-King is by no means an empty one."

"What a coincidence, so am I."

Su Yao clenched his fist, a faint golden light flashing in his eyes. An invisible pressure suddenly surged around him, making Dina instantly find it difficult to breathe.

The oppressive aura came and went quickly, but it was enough for Dina to understand the strength of the person in front of her.

“Now, tell me your choice.” Su Yao’s voice returned to calm.

Dina's hands trembled slightly, then slowly clenched into fists: "I...I promise you. But on one condition—"

"explain."

"If possible, please spare His Majesty's life," Dina whispered. "He was once a very good prince, and perhaps... perhaps there is still a chance for redemption."

Su Yao was silent for a moment, then shook his head: "I'm sorry, I can't guarantee that. He's gone too far, his hands are stained with too much blood. However..."

He paused for a moment: "I will give him a dignified ending."

Dina fell silent upon hearing this.

A cool autumn breeze blew by. Su Yao glanced at the night sky, took two steps back, and moved away from Dina: "I should probably go now."

“If you’ve decided to stop his atrocities, then we’ll meet at the ceremony tomorrow.”

"Of course, you can also choose to report me."

"But that won't change anything; I'll still kill that man."

"It's just that there will be some more chaos here."

Dina looked up abruptly, her eyes flashing with a struggle in the moonlight: "Wait!"

Su Yao's hand was already on the window frame. Hearing this, he turned his head slightly and asked, "Does the Holy Maiden have any further instructions?"

"Can you really guarantee the safety of the Kushan people? What exactly is this so-called more tolerant rule?" Dina gripped the hem of her dress, asking nervously, "Do you dare swear to God?"

Su Yao turned around, the moonlight outlining his tall and imposing figure: "I swear in the name of the Great Han and Tang Kings that all who submit will live in peace and prosperity. As for tolerance—" he pointed to the blood-red square outside the window, "at least no one under my rule will be sent to that kind of altar."

Dina followed his finger and looked towards the distant altar, which was faintly visible in the moonlight. She suddenly remembered the old priest's dying curse, which had been dragged onto the altar the day before: "Tyrants will surely be punished by the gods!"

Dina closed her eyes, a single tear silently sliding down her cheek: "Please remember your promise."

"I will."

Su Yao turned and walked towards the window, but Dina suddenly called out to him again: "Princess Samira is innocent, you must promise not to hurt her!"

Su Yao turned around, paused, and said, "As long as she doesn't court death, I'm not going to hold a grudge against a woman."

Before he finished speaking, his figure had already disappeared through the window like a ghost.

Dina stumbled to the window and saw a dark figure disappear into the night sky in a few leaps and bounds among the rooftops of the palace, so fast that it seemed as if it had never existed.

With trembling hands, she clasped them together and whispered a prayer to the moonlight:

"Brahma above, please guide me to make the right choice..."

A night breeze swept by, and Dina's prayers dissipated into the silent night. She slowly turned around, her gaze falling on the flickering oil lamp on the table, its light illuminating her complex expression.

"The duel between the Demon King and the God King... Is this the ending foretold by the oracle?"

She murmured to herself, her fingers unconsciously tracing the bruises on her neck. The violent look in Vaisudeva's eyes still lingered in her mind, while the mysterious man who claimed to be a Han general exuded a chilling confidence and composure.

"Is he really confident of defeating His Majesty?"

Dina walked to the bronze mirror and looked at her haggard reflection. As an oracle, she knew better than anyone how terrifying Vasudeva's power was now—a power that no ordinary person could contend with.

"But if he can really do it..."

Dina suddenly shivered. She realized she was contemplating treason—aiding a foreign enemy to overthrow her own monarch. But if she didn't, how many more innocent lives would be spilled on the altar tomorrow? How much longer would this scene continue?

Should I believe him?

Just as Dina was caught in a deep dilemma, there was a gentle knock on the door.

"Miss Dina, are you alright?" It was Princess Samira's low voice.

Dina quickly wiped away her tears and straightened her clothes: "Please come in."

Samira pushed open the door and entered, her face filled with worry: "I heard my brother slam the door and leave... Did he hurt you?"

Dina forced a smile: "I'm fine. His Majesty is just... a little emotionally unstable."

Samira grasped Dina's cold hand, her voice trembling: "I just had a terrible dream... I dreamt that the palace was ablaze, and my brother was standing in a sea of ​​blood, laughing hysterically... Miss Dina, what should we do?"

Dina remained silent for a long time before finally raising her head as if she had made up her mind: "Your Highness, do you believe in divine pronouncements?"

Princess Samira paused for a moment: "Of course I believe it. Miss Dina's divine pronouncements have never been wrong."

Dina took a deep breath and pulled the princess to sit down on the edge of the bed: "Then tomorrow, no matter what happens, please do not leave the palace."

"This, Miss Dina?"

Princess Samira looked at Dina in confusion, not understanding why she had suddenly said such a thing.

Dina gripped the princess's hand tightly, a resolute glint in her eyes: "Tomorrow's festival will likely witness the final battle foretold by the gods."

"What?! You mean the Demon King from the East is coming?" The princess was shocked.

"But the intelligence from the court says that the Han army is still in Kushania, isn't it?"

Dina shook her head first, then nodded and said, "I don't know the specifics, but like you said, the oracle never makes a mistake."

"Furthermore, there's something I've actually been keeping quiet about."

"What is that?" the princess gasped, her voice trembling with fear.

"The final battle in the oracle never actually revealed the victor."

Dina's voice was as soft as a whisper, yet it struck Samira like a thunderbolt.

"How...how is this possible?" The princess's pupils contracted sharply. "Didn't the oracle keep saying that my brother would defeat that demon king?"

Dina closed her eyes heavily: "That was just a well-intentioned lie I made up to strengthen the prince's faith."

"In the dream oracle, I only saw His Majesty's ascension to the throne, and a great battle between the two, with blood gushing into the sky and the world changing color."

"In the end, amidst the dazzling light, one man did indeed triumph, and he was crowned the God-King, worshipped by all."

"The losers are nailed to the pillar of historical shame, becoming tyrannical devils and devils despised for all eternity."

Dina's voice trailed off: "But I still can't see who the winner really is."

Princess Samira suddenly shuddered: "So...so my brother might..."

"If that's the case, then I'm the one who ruined him, leading him step by step to where he is now."

Dina held the princess's hand: "So you absolutely cannot have anything happen to you again."

"Promise me, Your Highness, no matter what happens tomorrow, you will not show up at the festival."

"No!" she suddenly grabbed Dina's shoulders. "We must warn my brother! Make him cancel tomorrow's festival!"

Dina shook her head with a wry smile: "It's no use, Princess. His Majesty won't listen to any advice anymore. Besides," she looked at the moonlight outside the window, "if this is fate's arrangement, then what's meant to happen will happen."

"If...if His Majesty is truly defeated, at least you will continue the royal bloodline."

The following day, the sacrificial ceremony to execute the traitors was held as scheduled.

Unlike previous years, this year's festival was unprecedented in scale, with crowds thronging the palace square and tens of thousands of people being forced to attend.

They watched as lines of bound prisoners were led up the platform, including an old priest with white hair, a righteous-looking monk, a once-illustrious nobleman, and even young boys and girls—their only crime being disloyalty to Vasudeva.

On the high platform, Vasudeva I, dressed in magnificent golden armor and wearing a crown inlaid with jewels, coldly surveyed the crowd below.

And this time, standing beside him was even Dina, the Brahmin saint who had once been rumored to have disappeared and been murdered.

The saintly young woman, dressed in a plain white robe and with her face veiled, stood quietly beside Vasudeva, as if she had tacitly accepted the bloody sacrifice.

The appearance of Saint Dina not only caused a stir among the crowd, but also shocked the moderate Brahmin priests on the altar.

"Miss Dina! What are you doing here?"

"Weren't you imprisoned?"

"Do you really support this tyrant?!"

Faced with questions from her former colleagues, Dina simply lowered her eyes in silence, remaining silent; no one could see her expression beneath the veil.

Vasudeva sneered and gestured for the guards to drag the old priest to the front row: "It seems someone is dissatisfied with my queen? Very well, then let you be the first to witness the power of the gods."

He turned to Dina, his voice deliberately softening: "My dear, it's time. Announce our engagement to everyone, and then begin this sacred ceremony." Dina slowly raised her head, a corner of her veil gently lifted by the breeze, revealing her pale lips: "Your Majesty, before we begin, I have a request."

Vasudeva frowned slightly: "Speak."

"Please allow me to offer a prayer for this ceremony."

A hint of suspicion flashed in Vasudeva's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by smugness: "Granted. Let everyone hear the Holy Maiden's devotion to the gods."

Dina walked slowly to the center of the altar. Facing her fellow priests with their varied expressions, she did not hesitate for a moment. She clasped her hands together and began to chant prayers in ancient Sanskrit.

Vasudeva couldn't understand the language, but the priests in the square could. Her voice seemed to have a magical power, and it quickly quieted down the noisy square.

A rare silence fell over the blood-soaked altar. Just as the prayer was about to end, Dina suddenly turned to Vasudeva:
"Your Majesty, a new divine oracle has appeared—today's ceremony will be different from the past; a decisive battle that will determine the fate of the world will take place here."

"decisive battle?"

Vasudeva frowned: "What does this mean? Could it be that another reckless traitor is trying to challenge me today?"

“No, Your Majesty!” Dina’s voice suddenly rose, echoing throughout the square, “The oracle has revealed that a challenger from the East will appear today to engage in a sacred duel with Your Majesty!”

Vasudeva's pupils suddenly contracted, and he abruptly stood up, his golden armor gleaming blindingly in the sunlight: "The challenger from the East? You mean that Han Chinese demon king?!"

His voice was a mixture of anger and excitement, like a beast that had caught the scent of blood.

The crowd in the square immediately stirred, and whispers spread like a tide.

"The Han Chinese Demon King? Isn't that the legendary demon who single-handedly destroyed a city?"

"My God, how could he be in the capital?"

"Does His Majesty the God-King intend to personally confront him?"

Just as the commotion reached its peak, a clear voice suddenly came from the edge of the square:
"Yes, that's right."

The voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, as if it were right next to them. The crowd parted automatically like Moses parting the Sea, and a group of warriors dressed in exotic attire strode in. Leading them was the Parthian envoy who had entered the city yesterday—the young man who claimed to be a prince of the Mihran family.

Holding a thick iron pestle, he slowly walked towards the altar, each step seeming to resonate with the heartbeats of the crowd. Sunlight shone on his handsome face, illuminating his eyes as bright as stars.

“An Anxi envoy?” Vasudeva narrowed his eyes and suddenly burst into laughter. “Interesting, truly interesting! I never expected that the mighty King of Tang of Han would actually hide his face and infiltrate my capital disguised as an Anxi envoy!”

"If I hadn't come here in person, I don't know how many more people would have suffered at the hands of this demon."

As soon as this statement came out, the whole place was in an uproar.

"My God, he actually dared to come to the capital alone!"

"His Majesty the God-King will tear him to pieces!"

Ignoring the clamor of the crowd, Su Yao stepped forward, tearing off his Parthian outer robe to reveal his signature crimson battle robe underneath.

"Now, are you ready to die?"

"Or are you a coward who doesn't dare to face me and wants to defile this sacred dueling ritual by hiding behind the crowd?"

A flash of rage crossed Vasudeva's eyes, but it quickly transformed into a sinister smile:
"Good, very good! I was just worried about not being able to find you, but you've delivered yourself right to my doorstep!"

He abruptly ripped off his golden cloak, revealing his muscular upper body. His bronze skin was covered with eerie, blood-red patterns that shimmered with a sinister light in the sunlight.

"You have no idea how powerful I am now."

"Today, in front of everyone, I will tear you, this imposter god, to pieces!"

Su Yao's lips curled into a slight smile, and the iron pestle slammed down on the ground: "Then let's fight!"

In an instant, the entire square fell silent, tens of thousands of eyes fixed on the two people in the center of the altar, even their breathing seemed to stop.

Dina slowly retreated to the edge of the altar, her hands clasped tightly to her chest, her lips moving silently as if in prayer.

Vasudeva was the first to attack. He drew his sword from his waist, roared, and then moved like lightning, instantly covering dozens of steps to directly approach Su Yao's face.

"Die!"

A strange red light emanated from Vaisudeva's sword as it slashed towards Su Yao's neck with a piercing whistling sound. The sword strike was as fast as lightning, leaving no time for an ordinary person to react.

However, Su Yao simply turned slightly to the side and gently flicked the iron pestle.

"clang--"

The sound of metal clashing was deafening, and the shockwave spread out from the two men, making nearby spectators lose their footing.

"That's it?" Su Yao raised an eyebrow.

A flicker of surprise crossed Vasudeva's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by madness: "Don't get cocky, this is just the beginning!"

He suddenly accelerated, and the sword light poured down like a torrential rain, each strike carrying the power to split mountains and shatter rocks.

This is not a metaphor, but a real situation.

The stone slabs of the altar shattered beneath his feet, and wherever the sword energy passed, a scene of flying sand and stones unfolded.

This force even affected many of the soldiers maintaining order on the altar, who were knocked to the ground by the aftershocks of the sword energy, screaming as they rolled down the steps, leaving a trail of blood on the ground.

However, Su Yao moved with ease, the iron pestle dancing in his hands, leaving afterimages, and completely neutralizing Vesudeva's attacks.

"Too slow," Su Yao suddenly spoke up. "Is this what you call divine power?"

With a roar, Vasudeva suddenly changed his move, his left hand forming a claw as he aimed straight for Su Yao's heart.

The five fingers glowed with an eerie red light, undoubtedly a manifestation of energy being released.

"Oh? That's not bad!"

Su Yao leaped backward in a flash, bouncing more than ten meters, and his expression finally turned serious.

"Are you scared?" Vasudeva sneered, looking at Su Yao who had jumped onto the distant palace gate, and said loudly:

"My power far exceeds your imagination. Kneel down and surrender now, and I will give you a dignified death."

"Didn't anyone tell you? Opening champagne at halftime is a death sentence."

As he spoke, Su Yao leaped down from the palace gate, his iron rod gleaming in the sunlight, drawing a golden arc as it struck Vaisudeva on the forehead.

Vasudeva sneered and raised his sword to parry, but then saw Su Yao suddenly change his move in mid-air, the iron rod thrusting straight at his throat at an odd angle.

"puff--"

Blood splattered, and Vasudeva staggered back several steps.

"what?!"

"His Majesty is injured!!"

"Oh my god, he has injured His Majesty!"

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Since Vasudeva ascended the throne, there have been rebels causing trouble almost every day.

However, he personally led every battle, killing countless enemies, yet none could harm him in the slightest.

Now, this person who suddenly appeared actually
"How dare you hurt me?" Vasudeva touched the wound on his neck in disbelief, a flicker of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by madness. "Very well! I will make you wish you were dead!"

The crimson patterns on his body suddenly surged, and his wounds healed at a visible speed. A suffocating pressure erupted from his body, causing the people in the square to retreat in terror, and even the priests showed fear on their faces.

"Do you see it? This is the power of the gods!" Vasudeva opened his arms, his voice booming like thunder. "I am destined to rule this land!"

Su Yao simply looked at him calmly: "Power gained through the slaughter of the innocent deserves to be called divine power?"

He slowly raised the iron pestle, and suddenly a dazzling golden light emanated from his body: "Let me teach you what true power is."

Golden light and crimson light clashed in the center of the plaza, the two completely different forces colliding and stirring up gusts of wind. Dina clung tightly to the edge of the altar, her veil billowing in the wind.

"Die!" Vasudeva roared as he charged forward, his sword flashing like a blood moon.

Su Yao neither dodged nor avoided, but instead met the iron pestle head-on.

Unparalleled Skill - The Overlord Descends!
Su Yao silently recited the command in his mind, and his power surged.

After breaking through, he unleashed his already immense power, and with the amplification of his Musou Technique, this strike came crashing down with unparalleled force.

"boom--!"

There are no fancy fighting techniques or special effects, only heavy, powerful blows that can split a mountain in two.

Vasudeva's sword shattered into pieces the instant they made contact, but the iron pestle, still carrying considerable force, slammed heavily onto his shoulder.

"Click——"

The sound of bones shattering was clearly audible. Vasudeva's left shoulder collapsed instantly, and he was sent flying like a rag doll, crashing into a corner of the altar.

"Your Majesty!" the high priest exclaimed, trying to step forward but being knocked to the ground by the shockwave.

The square was deathly silent; everyone was too shocked to speak by this earth-shattering attack.

Vasudeva struggled to his feet from the rubble, his left arm hanging limply at his side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He stared intently at Su Yao, his eyes filled with disbelief: "Impossible! How could my power..."

"Your power?" Su Yao stepped forward slowly, the iron pestle dragging on the ground with a harsh scraping sound. "It's nothing but evil power obtained through killing and plundering."

With each step he took, the golden light emanating from him intensified: "And I am the true—"

Suddenly, the iron pestle pointed to the sky, and a golden beam of light shot into the air, tearing open the clouds.

"—It is the will of Heaven!"

Vasudeva's pupils contracted sharply as he felt an unprecedented sense of oppression, as if he were facing not a person, but the will of the entire universe.

"No! I am the God-King! I am the Mandate of Heaven!" he roared hysterically, plunging his remaining right hand into his chest and tearing out a beating heart. "With my blood as a sacrifice, please unleash divine punishment!"

The heart instantly turned into a blood mist, which condensed in the air into a blood-red spear, exuding a suffocatingly evil aura.

"Die!" Vasudeva hurled his blood spear, tearing through space as if it were being ripped apart, emitting a piercing shriek.

Su Yao neither dodged nor evaded, holding the iron pestle horizontally in front of his chest: "Break!"

Another sweeping attack.

The golden light and the blood-red light collided once again, and this time the shockwave directly overturned half of the square, sending countless pieces of debris flying, and the audience screamed and scattered in all directions.

When the smoke cleared, everyone was horrified to see that Su Yao was still standing in the same spot, while the blood spear had vanished.

Vasudeva knelt on the ground, a huge hole in his chest from which blood gushed.

"Why?" He struggled to lift his head, his eyes filled with resentment, "I clearly obtained the power of the gods!"

Su Yao walked up to him, looking down at the former prince: "Because you were wrong from the very beginning."

He raised the iron pestle and pointed it to the sky: "A true king who rules the world will never feed on the blood of the innocent."

A flicker of confusion crossed Vasudeva's eyes, which then hardened into a ferocious glint: "The victor is king, the loser is villain. I...have no regrets."

His body began to disintegrate, turning into specks of blood that dissipated into the air, leaving only a final curse: "I will wait for you in the Yellow Springs."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

[Mission Completed: Defeat Botiao Vasudeva (Incarnation of an Evil God)]

[Rewards: 10,000 experience points, Epic weapon "Indra's Wrath", Achievement title "Godslayer"]

(End of this chapter)