Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

Without the slightest hesitation, Wenat gave a salute that was not quite perfect, but still presentable: "Understood, Your Highness!"

Wayne nodded, hesitated for a few seconds, and then said:

"Did the reeds save you? Or did that brown-haired man, Felin, simply capture you as a prisoner?"

“It was Prince Reed who saved me,” Venat replied. “At the time, Mr. Kant and I stormed into a conspiracy party targeting Victoria. We captured Baron Bolton, the organizer, on the spot. After Mr. Kant and I took control of the party, we ordered Baron Bolton to produce the list of attendees. Baron Bolton then went to his study. Everything was going smoothly…” At this point, a hint of regret and sorrow appeared on Venat’s face. “But Baron Bolton died. Shortly after entering the study, he was pierced through the chest by a stone spike. Mr. Kant, noticing the abnormality, rushed into the study and fought Mandra, the brown-haired Felin. However, the enemy’s Originium Arts allowed him to manipulate earth and stone, and Mr. Kant, who was skilled in close combat, was unable to gain the upper hand and was defeated.”

Wenat paused, then took out his staff, the tip of which was charred, from his robes:

"I originally intended to take Mandela down with me. Although I hadn't used Originium Arts for many years, I was confident that I still had the ability. I drew my staff and swung it at Mandela, but at that moment, Princess Reed appeared. She stopped me and easily blocked Mandela's stone spikes, saving me. Unfortunately, I was knocked unconscious by Princess Reed at the time and couldn't see her make a move."

Wenat was too embarrassed to admit that he had been knocked unconscious because he was too bad at the game; it would be too shameful and would greatly affect his future social life. As for the fact that he was so bad that he had confused Mandela, which gave Reed time to appear and save him, he would not tell Wayne that either, since it did not affect the truth (he was certain of it).

Wayne nodded after listening, silently adding a point to Wei Cao's score in his heart.

Deeppool's crimes cannot be absolved. Many people in Victoria suffered his inhumane persecution, and his attacks on the northern cities caused Victoria enormous economic, political, and prestige losses. However, the trial of Deeppool cannot be dismissed outright; Wayne has his own judgment on the details.

He then asked:

"You were later captured and taken to Deep Pool's base, which is the villa you mentioned?"

Wenat agreed, "Yes, Your Highness. I didn't wake up until the next day."

Did you meet with the leaders of Deeppool during this period?

“Leader of the Deep Pool, are you referring to Reed’s sister?” Venat shook his head. “No, Your Highness. I did not see anyone other than Princess Reed the entire time. When I escaped from the villa, there were only a few guards. The rest of the people have all disappeared, including that very powerful sorcerer Mandra.”

Celtic, the leader of Deep Pool, was not present.

Wayne silently noted this information: Celt wasn't at the base, and Wayne hadn't seen Drak's face on any of the battlefields while leading Babel Tower in combat missions. Therefore, it was highly likely that Celt hadn't participated in the Hillsshire operation. This was interesting. If the Hillsshire incident was entirely managed by Reeds, then was the attack actually planned and launched by Reeds?

If it was her, then why did Reed save Wenat and send her back to the garrison to deliver the 8 p.m. combat information to Hamilton?

He softened halfway through the fight and stopped? Wayne didn't think anyone would be that naive. Besides, in his mind, based on his early experiences living with Reed and his study of Reed's personal file before his transmigration, the girl who appeared strong but was fragile inside, who repeatedly warned the Doctor not to touch her sister and would protect him with her life, didn't seem like someone who would commit such a callous act of taking human life.

Is there disagreement within Deeppool, with Celtic directing things remotely, or is someone acting on their own? Or perhaps it's the possibility that Wayne least wants to see—the possibility of people turning to the dark side?

Putting this doubt aside for the time being, Wayne decided to confront him face-to-face after finding the reeds.

At that moment, a deep voice from a garrison soldier from Xiaoqiu County rang out outside the tent:

"Your Highness, the carriage is ready."

Wayne instinctively shuddered. He hadn't asked Theresa to arrange vehicles. Traveling by vehicle would be too conspicuous and not conducive to covert operations. It also wouldn't be able to reach very fast speeds in the suburbs and agricultural areas. Theresa couldn't possibly be unaware of this.

Wayne turned his head suspiciously.

In an instant, a crisp sound of a bowstring being released rang out, and a crossbow bolt gleaming with cold light shot out, heading straight for him. The bright silver arrowhead even reflected Wayne's surprised face.

PS: One more time in the underworld.

PS2: Today, a reader went to Bilibili and arrested my Bilibili account, and also recommended a new painting by the author El to me. He said it was very suitable for the plot I'm currently writing, and after looking at it, it's indeed quite accurate.

Let me show it to you.

That's definitely somewhat accurate, but the video was about Ursus, and it has nothing to do with Victoria. I'm not very familiar with El, but if I have the chance, I'll contact him to see if I can commission an illustration for this book.

I'll praise El again for being awesome.

El's Bilibili ID is El's Resident; you can check out his videos, they're all very high quality.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Arrow of Black Iron and the Sword of the Pardoner

"mon3tr, emergency order: structural reinforcement!"

Kal'tsit's voice rang out almost simultaneously with the sound of a crossbow bolt being released. The Originium behemoth, glowing with a ghastly green light, appeared before Vayne, spreading its arms to form a golden defensive line. The crossbow bolt arrived in an instant, but it was still a step too slow, striking mon3tr's head heavily, the shaft snapping with a crisp sound.

mon3tr let out a painful roar, wielding its four scythe-like claws to slice the broken arrow, its tip embedded in the head, into several pieces. At this moment, Wenat, inside the tent, suddenly snapped out of his daze, his face filled with terror as he stepped in front of Wayne, shouting:

"Assassin! Seal off the scene! His Highness the Prince has been assassinated!"

"Bullshit, I'm not dead yet!" Wayne gasped, still shaken, and cursed.

If it weren't for Kal'tsit's quick reaction, he wouldn't have been able to block that arrow with his physical abilities alone. Recalling the death knell of the words, "Your Highness, the carriage is ready," Wayne still felt lingering fear.

Awakened by Wernart's roar and mon3tr's howl, the once-silent military camp erupted into chaos. Hamilton drew his saber and took the lead, blocking Wayne's tent. Soon, the garrison also gathered around the tent, fully armed and on guard. Kal'tsit and Theresa ran up, panting, and after looking Wayne up and down, they breathed a sigh of relief and said:

"Are you okay?"

"It's nothing, I was just startled."

Wayne pursed his lips, his face still somewhat pale. This was the first time he had been assassinated since his transmigration. It was still on Victorian soil, in a Victorian soldiers' camp. He caught his breath, then suddenly remembered something and asked:

Where is the person who just called me?

“Here, Your Highness.” Hamilton wiped the cold sweat from his brow, entered the tent, stepped aside to make way for Wayne, and pointed to the corpse lying on the ground outside the tent, saying, “He’s dead. It looks like he was silenced.”

Lying on the ground was an unremarkable Felin man, dressed in a Victorian military uniform, holding only a standard-issue military knife in his hand.

Wayne frowned and shook his head: "It wasn't him."

The person who just shot him with an arrow wasn't this Felin. He didn't even have a crossbow, and...

Vayne glanced at Mon3tr beside him. This Originium behemoth was surrounded by vigilant soldiers. Its excessively large size and ferocious appearance were truly terrifying, and coupled with the constant, displeased growls emanating from its mouth, Vayne had no doubt that it would have slaughtered the soldiers who drew their weapons against it if Kal'tsit hadn't been controlling it. The source of its rage lay in the "crossbow bolt" protruding from its head.

Rather than a crossbow bolt, what was embedded in mon3tr's skull was more like a broadsword. The heavy, dark iron material and the simple, unadorned patterns on the blade made it difficult to tell from the blade alone that it was a crossbow bolt used for shooting. Instead, it reminded one of the greatsword-wielding soldiers or centurions of the Sarkaz. If it weren't for the sharp, piercing sound that Vayne clearly heard, probably no one would attribute this assassination to a sniper shot, but would think that the man before him, Felin, was wielding a greatsword and trying to cut Vayne in two from behind.

“If such a heavy iron sword can be used as a crossbow, the size of the ‘bow’ it comes with must also be extraordinary,” Kal’tsit analyzed. “There are no matching tools for this Felin, and mon3tr and I can also confirm that he could not have moved his weapon in such a short time. He is definitely not the perpetrator himself, and the real assassin has not yet appeared.”

“However…this method of assassination…” Kal'tsit murmured. Theresa immediately pressed for an answer:

Do you have any clues?

Kal'tsit looked at Theresa, hesitated for a moment, and then shook her head, saying, "It's not certain yet. If it really is the group I'm thinking of, a second assassination could happen at any time. And each one will be more difficult to defend against than the last."

She looked at Wayne and seriously suggested, "Your Highness, could we put the search for Prince Reed aside for now? We need to prioritize your safety."

Wayne opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end he nodded helplessly, acknowledging the judgment.

Reed is not in immediate danger; judging from Wenat's words, Reed currently holds a fairly high position within the Deeppool. As long as he conquers the Deeppool, he will eventually see Reed again. However, the shadow cast by this assassination attempt hangs like a Damocles' sword over Wayne's head. Wayne must prioritize capturing the assassin to ensure his own safety.

He is now the true backbone of Victoria and needs to shoulder this responsibility and be accountable for his own safety.

........

Victoria, a remote suburb of Little Hillshire.

The elderly Kuranta, dressed in a thick, old leather coat, wearing a wide-brimmed cowboy hat, with an old pipe dangling from his lips, and calloused hands holding the bowstring, looked like an ordinary old hunter. If only his longbow weren't so "unique."

The fully mechanized bow is about the width of a human forearm. Every decimeter, a spell conduction device made of pure Originium is embedded. Every three conduction devices, there is a fist-sized Originium energy relay device to ensure that the transmitted spells do not lose energy and weaken their power during the journey. The conduits of the three relay devices converge at the rifling of the arrow. The dense spell patterns would be unbelievable even to the great wizards of Letania.

And the crossbow bolts mounted on those wide rifling grooves were exactly the same type as the simple and unadorned black iron heavy sword that Wayne had seen!

"call--"

With a long sigh, the aged Kuranta squinted, looking towards the camp almost four or five movement blocks away. His pupils, already somewhat cloudy with age, gleamed with a sharp light, and he immediately spotted the blond boy in the crowd. After lingering on Wayne for a brief moment, he turned his head to look at the enormous Originium behemoth beside Wayne.

"It's faster than my arrows, its defense directly withstood my sniper shot with its head, and its durability seems to be still going strong. What on earth is this thing?"

The aged Kuranta sighed sincerely, already knowing in his heart that this assassination mission was most likely doomed. He looked up at the sky, put his hand to his mouth, and whistled, like a true old hunter. Responding to the call, the feathered beast circling in the sky slowly descended, finally landing on his shoulder.

"Go tell the Grand Duke that the mission failed. Wayne has an unmentioned guard force around him. Make sure he finds out and is contacting the operator."

"And warn him that I will accept whatever he promises me."

"You guys in front, get down!"

Suddenly, a loud shout rang out from the foot of the mountain. The elderly Kuranta narrowed his eyes, glancing once more towards the garrison tents. Confirming there was no unusual activity from Wayne's side, he relaxed, changed his expression, and turned around like an ordinary old hunter, offering a fawning smile:

"Sir, what brings you here...?"

His voice stopped abruptly, his pupils contracted sharply, and his smile froze on his face.

Down the mountain, stretching for miles, the fully armed Victorian army, seemingly without end, watched him in perfect unison.

At the very front of the army, not far behind the soldier who was giving the order, a Sarkaz man with short pink hair and a stern face was silently observing him.

The elderly Kuranta swallowed hard, about to explain something. The next second, he saw Theresis's lips curl slightly, a strange smile appearing on his face.

"Kuranta, with a bow, dressed as a hunter, unarmored?"

"Let me guess, what's your rank, and what are you doing here?"

"Master of Forgiveness!"

Theresis suddenly let out a sharp shout. The elderly Kuranta's expression changed, and he took a step back and leaped off the other side of the cliff. At the same time, the pardoner beside Theresis drew his longsword, severing day and night, dividing dawn and dusk, not a simple severing of reality, but a silent strike aimed at the soul, cutting through the Empire of Consciousness.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Therese: We can blow them all up!

"Cough cough... hiss—"

Xuan Tie clutched his chest, coughed a few times in a low voice, clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction, pulled a bottle of medicine from his pocket, gulped it down, wiped the yellow liquid remaining at the corner of his mouth, and muttered to himself with a self-deprecating tone:

"I knew the Master of Pardons was difficult to deal with, but I've certainly learned something new today. He's clearly not injured at all, but the more we fight, the weaker he gets."

He clutched his chest, feeling his slow heartbeat. Waves of exhaustion washed over his brain. For a master assassin who made his fortune as an assassin and walked the line between swords and blades, this was no good sign.

As he said, the female pardoner beside Theresis hadn't actually landed a single blow on him. Every time she swung her sword, Xuan Tie could dodge it in the shortest amount of time, create distance again, and launch a counterattack. But for some reason, even so, Xuan Tie still felt his strength constantly draining away.

The female pardoner codenamed Flash Spirit didn't draw her sword quickly; compared to Xuan Tie's dodging speed, it was negligible. However, she didn't seem to expect every strike to hit its mark. The soul power emanating from the scabbard highlighted the extraordinary nature of the tree branch-shaped longsword. Even if it didn't hit the enemy, it could still reduce the enemy's stamina invisibly.

Or, to put it more mysteriously, that longsword that absorbs all the surrounding light and whose swings seem to bring about the changing of day and night, is actually targeting the soul.

"We can't afford to waste any more time with her."

Xuan Tie gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand up against the tree trunk, his body growing weaker and emptier, feeling as if it had been drained of all its energy. Perhaps the medicine he had drunk was having some effect, for some color returned to his face, and his spirits gradually recovered.

This area is now far from Little Hill County, almost reaching the wilderness. It's unlikely that the pink-haired Sarkaz man would rashly lead a large army into this unsupplied, desolate wilderness. Furthermore, based on Xuan Tie's recent probing, the Pardoner named Flash Spirit isn't particularly skilled at tracking. If he hides there and remains dormant for two or three days, Theresis's search will be fruitless, forcing him to retreat.

As for how to spend the next two or three days, Xuan Tie already had a plan. Did they really think he was just wearing that hunter's outfit for nothing?

Although it's somewhat shameful to say that the founder of the Wuzhou Alliance, one of the three Xuan Tie leaders, was forced to enter the wilderness to survive while being chased on the Victoria border, Xuan Tie would definitely choose social death over physical death when it comes to survival.

Besides, if anyone disagrees, they can go and challenge the 100,000-strong Victoria army themselves, and they'll be in for a world of hurt.

Having made up his mind, Xuan Tie dug a hole on the spot, buried his heavy crossbow inside, and then covered the cave with the surrounding soil to ensure that no one could notice anything unusual. Finally, he took out a knife, climbed a tree, and carved the Wuzhou Alliance mark in the middle of the trunk. Satisfied with his arrangements, he ran into the woods without looking back.

About ten minutes later, Shining finally tracked the trail to this place. The surrounding area was a dense jungle, with layers of bushes obscuring the view and towering trees blocking out the sunlight, causing the light in the forest to be constantly dim and flickering. This was not only unfavorable for the Pardoner's tracking, but also made it easy for a high-end assassin like Xuan Tie to take a sneak shot.

After the trail ended there, Shining reluctantly released her hand from the hilt of her sword and instead connected to the communicator that Therese had taken from the Victorian quartermaster.

"Chairman, we've lost them."