Hell has invaded, but my Hextech is invincible!

Chapter 115 What is meant by genocide?

Tyrion stood frozen in place, his face alternating between pale and flushed.

From the moment he knelt and begged for mercy from Muller-Tuttle, he had completely lost all dignity. Even the Rothschilds could embarrass him in public, and Tyrion could even feel the disdain in the eyes of other clergy.

Rothschild took a deep breath, suppressing the violence in his heart, and his gaze fell on the Kellright father and son.

"It's a pity Hex isn't here; this public trial is a bit less interesting now," he sneered.

He opened his arms and announced loudly, his voice echoing throughout the entire venue.

"The public trial shall now begin!"

Anred clenched his fists, having already prepared all his arguments in his mind.

He wanted to refute all the slander, expose all the fabricated evidence, clear his family's name, and plant the seeds of truth in the hearts of the people.

But none of what he had anticipated happened.

There were no witnesses, no evidence was read out, and no normal trial procedures were followed.

However, behind the trenches, dozens of self-propelled artillery pieces quickly removed their gun covers.

The black cannon muzzles rose rapidly, all aimed at the Edria Manor.

Anreid looked bewildered and stared blankly at Rothschild on the platform.

Rothschild's lips curled into a cruel smile, and he put a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

"listen."

Rumble—!

In an instant, dozens of cannons opened fire simultaneously!

The high-explosive bomb, engulfed in flames, pierced the sky and struck the Edria Manor with precision!

Flames shot into the sky, and a deafening roar shook the heavens and the earth.

The opulent noble manor was instantly engulfed in over a dozen massive fireballs.

The house collapsed, and bricks and stones flew everywhere.

Even from hundreds of meters away, Anred could clearly hear the heart-wrenching screams coming from the manor.

He froze, his vision went black, his legs went weak, and he almost collapsed to the ground.

But the continuous bombing forced him to wake up.

With bloodshot eyes, Andre stared at Rothschild in disbelief, his voice hoarse, "What are you doing?!"

'

This scene completely terrified Tyrion.

He stared at the manor engulfed in flames, trembling and screaming incoherently.

"You're insane! You're crazy!"

"There are three or four thousand people locked up inside, most of them innocent!"

"This is not a battlefield, not a wasteland tainted by hell!"

"It's in the heart of Newcastle's aristocratic district!"

"The trial isn't over yet! You can't do this! Stop it!" Tyrion screamed.

Rothschild glanced at him, his eyes utterly cold.

"Innocent? In my eyes, everyone here is a sinner. How can anyone be innocent?"

"I'm going to find Lord Muller!" Tyrion was terrified and turned to run away.

But three priests from the Tuttle family stepped forward instantly, their eyes gleaming with a deep blue holy light.

A powerful pressure forced Tyrion back into his seat, rendering him unable to move.

"Enjoy this public trial, Your Excellency the Bishop."

"This is the public trial of the Tuttle family." One of them looked down at Tyrion. "You must learn to accept it."

"No—!" Anred let out a shrill, ghostly roar.

His eyes were bloodshot and bulging with rage. He suddenly pulled a dagger from his waist and charged at Rothschild like a madman.

But the dagger froze in mid-air.

An invisible barrier blocked him completely, preventing him from making any progress.

Rothschild looked at his pained and contorted face, and his laughter grew even more smug and cruel.

"Yes, that's the expression!"

"This is what it looks like to lose everything!"

He activated the holy talisman, forcibly restraining Anred, and forcefully turned his head to look at the sea of ​​fire.

"Watch closely, watch carefully."

"Your family, wife, brothers, nephews, and all the people you cared about perished in the fire."

2

Everything you have is gone.

1

Rumble—!

A second round of shelling followed immediately.

After a deafening explosion, the entire Adriatic Estate was razed to the ground.

"That's not how it is—it shouldn't be like this—"

Anred was in tears, letting out desperate cries, his body convulsing violently.

His childhood home, the place where his wife and clansmen grew up, and the place where his only son Kars grew up—all those memories turned to ashes.

He wanted to close his eyes, unable to bear watching any longer.

Rothschild, however, used his fingers to forcefully pry open his eyelids, forbidding him to close his eyes.

"Look, don't close your eyes!" Rothschild's laughter grew increasingly arrogant.

"Show me!"

The shelling ceased, and on the ruins, no intact buildings remained.

Thousands of lives were lost here, and even the cries of agony ceased.

Anred's heart shattered into pieces, and he was filled with utter despair.

If he hadn't been restrained by the force field, he would have collapsed to the ground, suffering a fate worse than death.

Rothschild felt an unprecedented sense of satisfaction and extreme pleasure.

It was a million times more pleasurable than the torture and murder of those children and girls he had done.

"I really regret not making my move on you sooner," he muttered.

"It's boring to torture and kill ordinary people. Only the desperate struggle of you nobles and warriors is interesting."

Catherine, standing to the side, remained completely still.

He did not turn back, did not wail, did not cry, and did not beg for mercy.

I could only feel the tremors beneath my feet and hear the final lament of my family.

His eyes were lowered, and only a deathly desolation remained around him.

After a long while, he slowly raised his head.

His gaze was as deep as an abyss, devoid of any emotion, yet carrying a chilling intensity, fixed intently on Rothschild.

"You'll go to hell," he uttered, words that seemed to come from the abyss.

"Is this all the curse you have?" Rothschild scoffed, his face full of disdain. "How utterly weak and powerless."

"You're a veteran who experienced the Crimean War firsthand, how can you be so weak?"

"I've seen demons there, but you were born a demon," said Kelwyn.

"You were born into the Tuttle family, which has emboldened you to do all evil."

Rothschild's face twisted into a grimace. "Thank you for your compliment."

He turned around, walked to the edge of the platform, looked at the stunned and trembling crowd below, and shouted loudly.

"You all heard that!"

"The former Newcastle Legion commander accused me of being a devil, saying I deserved to go to hell!"

"If I am truly guilty, which of you dares to step forward and accuse me?"

"Who dares to kidnap me and take me to trial in London?"

"I will never resist!"

"I'm giving you a chance, step forward!"

The sound, amplified by the loudspeaker, reverberated throughout the entire square.

The entire room fell silent.

No one dared to speak, no one dared to raise their head.

All that remained for the people was fear, trembling, and numbness.

They watched as a deeply entrenched noble family was publicly wiped out.

The Adriatic family is a behemoth in Newcastle.

Yet, they were still brutally murdered and annihilated without any scruples in front of the Tuttle family.

No one dared to resist, no one dared to speak out.

Fear completely consumed everyone.

Rothschild withdrew his gaze with satisfaction and looked at Tyrion, whose face was ashen.

"Your Excellency, do you agree with the outcome of this public trial?"

Tyrion trembled all over, and faced with overwhelming pressure and fear, he didn't even have the courage to resist.

He feared he would suffer the same fate as the Adriatic family.

He just wanted to survive, and to return to London safely.

He wanted to run, but he couldn't. He also knew that if he dared to say no at this moment, he would be finished.

Under the heavy pressure from the clergyman of Tartel, his lips trembled as he struggled to speak.

"I—I accept the outcome of the public trial."

"Adelya, apostate and traitor, guilty of heinous crimes, sentenced to death!"

"Well said!" Rothschild burst into laughter.

He snapped his fingers.

The sacred field tightened abruptly.

Click—!

Anred's limbs were instantly twisted and broken, contorted into bizarre shapes.

He gritted his teeth, his mouth filled with the taste of blood, and he didn't utter a single scream of begging for mercy; his eyes were filled with only deep-seated hatred.

Rothschild was even more delighted: "That's tough! I like tough guys."

"I will send you to hell to reunite with your family."

"And Hextech, I'll send him down to join you too."

Rothschild waved his hand dismissively, yet issued the cruelest order.

"Burning at the stake, carry out the execution."

More than a dozen bombers roared in from the sky and circled over the ruins of the manor.

The fuselage slowly opened.

Incendiary bombs rained down from the sky.

This is a napalm incendiary bomb specifically designed to deal with hellish monsters; the fire is fierce and does not go out for a long time.

The raging fire completely engulfed the entire ruins.

Flames shot into the sky, resembling a giant burning cross, scorching the heavens and earth.

People nearly a kilometer away were scorched by the heatwave, filled with horror, and trembling.

They wanted to bow their heads, they wanted to turn around and run away.

But the armed soldiers around them blocked all escape routes.

You are not allowed to leave.

This public trial was not only a trial of the Edlia family, but also a trial of all the people of Newcastle.