I let the genie out of the bottle

Judging from his appearance alone, he certainly lives up to the name of a paladin.

Then, slowly, he struck the shoulder of the Bronze Black Cross Commander with his sword.

“Paul, this is really unlike you.” Kranichal slowly closed his eyes, his smile somewhat bitter.

PS1: Third update, please vote!

PS2: I recommend a book, *There's Definitely Something Wrong with This Blue World*.

Chapter Forty-Two: Baseness and the Executioner

Indeed, the two have been fighting each other for half their lives.

However, I never imagined that things would turn out like this.

Feeling the cold touch near his neck, Kranichal slowly closed his eyes.

“Yes, doing this is indeed unlike me, unlike the paladin Paul in everyone’s mind.” Paul Brantelli slowly closed his eyes, as if making a decision.

“Kranichal, I am the supreme commander of the Copper Black Cross, and only then do I qualify as a paladin.”

"I know very well what is most important to me."

He spoke with a serious expression and a resolute face, his whole being resembling a resurrected Greek statue.

“So—” He gripped the sword with both hands, raised it high, and golden magical light shimmered on his shoulders, making him appear exceptionally holy.

“Kranichal, who harbors ill intentions toward the king, deserves to be executed.”

Inside the meeting room, many people couldn't bear to look away.

It's hard to imagine that a high-ranking and powerful leader of a magic society would die on the spot today.

Although many people here belong to the forces hostile to the Bronze Black Cross, they couldn't help but feel a sense of shared sorrow for the fate of their fellow tribesmen.

Even so, no one dared to say anything more.

Moreover, they were not incapable of understanding Paul Brantley's feelings at that moment.

He did this not to take advantage of his rivals or to kick General Kranjcar when he was down.

Instead, he was worried that if his punishment failed to satisfy the king, he and his Copper Black Cross might face cruel retaliation.

Moreover, even if this paladin were to kill his former rival, he would not be happy, but rather feel guilty and pain.

In fact, this was precisely the purpose behind Paul Brantelli's decision to punish manager Cranichal.

The magicians were terrified by the king's cruelty, but all they could do was lower their heads, fearing that the king would notice them.

Lu Ye leaned back in his chair, watching the drama unfold with only one eye open.

"Paul".

Wang has spoken out.

Majestic yet carrying a terrifying malice.

"Let me be the witness."

"Let me witness what you intend to do now, and let me see how you punish him."

Paul Brantley couldn't help but grit his teeth.

His expression, which had been full of struggle just moments before, was now completely indifferent.

"In the name of the King," the paladin proclaimed, his voice icy, like a knight of revelation from the Bible, "I will sever your head!"

He held the gleaming knight's sword in his hands and brought it down.

I could feel the wind from the knight's sword on my neck.

Blood flowed out.

Feeling the pain in his neck, Kranjcar paused for a moment, then opened his eyes in a daze.

The paladin's sword, gleaming with golden light, stopped abruptly at Kranichal's neck.

The sharp blade left only a shallow trail of blood on the surface of his neck.

Before him stood a resolute paladin, sword in hand.

“Paul Brantley—” Cranichal’s expression was shaken.

"Paul, what do you mean by this?"

An indifferent voice came from the king's mouth.

Lu Ye remained expressionless, slowly sitting up straight, his eyes flashing with an unpredictable glint.

The resolute paladin ignored the shock of Commander-in-Chief Kranichal, and did not immediately answer Lu Ye's question.

He slowly stood up, the sunlight streaming in from outside falling on his rugged, marble-sculpted face.

Then he turned around, took a step back, and knelt down next to Kranjcar, raising his sword with both hands.

“My lord, I should have beheaded this wicked subject to appease your wrath.” Paul Brantley knelt on the ground, making a gesture of submission.

"However, it is the executioner who kills those who offer no resistance."

“A despicable person would kill his friend in order to survive.”

“Executioners and despicable men cannot be knights.”

Paul Brantley's words were so forceful that they made all the magicians in the dilapidated meeting room gasp.

They were deeply moved by Paul Brantley's courage in risking his life for the greater good, and at the same time admired the noble character of this holy knight.

However, they were also saddened that such a noble knight would perish under the oppression and wrath of the demon king.

Because the demon king at that moment had a blank expression, neither sad nor happy.

"I still hope that one day I can serve the king as a knight."

"Hmph." The Demon King snorted coldly, his face icy as he spoke, seemingly enraged by the Paladin's offense.

"He seems to be a very eloquent fellow."

Is there contempt in that tone?

As human beings, after a lifetime of hard work, we are powerless to resist either the rampaging, disobedient gods or the demon kings on earth.

Is that tone of anger?

Those who should have been humbly groveling before him dared to defy his wishes.

So, the Demon King raised his hand.

Seemingly inexhaustible magic began to gather in that seemingly ordinary palm.

This immense magical power is enough to make people feel a deep-seated despair.

Even the most gifted individuals, through diligent practice, could never match even one percent of them.

That hand was instantly transformed into a dazzling and radiant gold.

The golden magic gradually transformed into surging golden flames.

Upon seeing the flames, everyone in the conference room instantly felt a sense of impending death.

If it were simply a matter of converting magic into flames, it wouldn't be a difficult task; many people in the conference room could do it.

However, under the influence of that terrifying magic, which was of extremely high quality and enormous quantity, this flame was already capable of exerting power that was beyond human reach.

Lu Ye propped his chin up with one hand and raised the other, where golden flames slowly condensed and solidified.

Finally, a golden sword formed from flames obediently landed in his hand.

The sword was exquisite and beautiful, yet it also instilled a chill in one's heart.

Of everyone in this conference room, facing the burst of power from that sword, only Wang would be safe; the others would likely all perish.

The magicians were terrified and knelt down.

However, no one had the courage to ask the king to calm down.

Sweat slowly trickled down Paul Brantley's forehead.

Then, just like a child casually throwing a firecracker into an anthill.

With a blank expression, Lu Ye threw the beautiful yet dangerous sword toward Paul Brantley, who was kneeling on the ground.

P.S.: Be patient, be patient~ Also, using my traditional skill, please vote~~~or2

Chapter 43 The Arrival of Wang Dongni??

As if throwing a javelin, Lu Ye slowly raised the sword in his hand and aimed.

Then, a golden, crystal-clear sword, exuding a dangerous aura, shot straight toward the head of Paul Blunt, who was kneeling on the ground.

The paladin named Paul Brantelli, though his forehead was covered in cold sweat from anxiety, still knelt on the ground, his body as still as a statue.

Then, with a "snap," a few strands of golden hair fell from Paul's head.

The golden sword, its remaining power undiminished, continued its ascent into the distance, tracing a beautiful golden arc in the air.

Then, it exploded at an unknown distance, turning into a ball of golden flame that shot into the sky and covered half of the sky.

Although for ordinary people it was just a strange explosion, it was a symbol of freedom.

However, anyone with even a slight sensitivity to the supernatural felt a deep sense of oppression, as if a huge rock had suddenly pressed down on their chest.

The magicians in the conference room were all elite members of various magic societies, so they were naturally particularly sensitive to this. The magical aura that permeated the entire city terrified them, and their fear of Lu Ye, the newly crowned Demon King, intensified.

However, what surprised them even more was—

"Sir Paul, are you alright?" A magician asked, his face blank, his voice filled with disbelief. "Could it be a mistake? That can't be, can it?"

"Under my control, merely touching the hair is not enough to trigger the magic on this sword."

Ignoring the magicians' astonishment, Lu Ye slowly spoke, his gaze calmly fixed on the paladin, Paul Brantelli, who was still kneeling on the ground.

At this moment, the paladin who had survived the ordeal was still kneeling on the ground, but his breathing had become noticeably rapid.

Large beads of sweat slid down his forehead and rolled onto the ground.

It seems that this near-death experience has put a considerable strain on his mental and physical health.

"However, if you had trembled even slightly just now, and this sword had grazed a tiny bit of your skin—"

Lu Ye stood up and said slowly.

"Then, you, along with Kochar beside you, will probably be engulfed by the flames."

The paladin named Paul Brantelli straightened up and bowed respectfully to Lu Ye.

Although the paladin's voice was slightly hoarse, it remained calm and composed.

"Thank you, Your Majesty... for your forgiveness."

"Hehe, hehe."

A low chuckle came from Lu Ye's mouth. He lowered his head, his face seemingly cold.

However, the laughter quickly grew louder.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

He tilted his head back and laughed loudly without restraint, his laughter seemingly causing the entire house to tremble slightly.

Seemingly due to emotional reasons and a lack of self-control, a portion of the magic power within him erupted, making his power even greater, forcing the surrounding magicians to kneel on the ground, unable to even lift their heads.

"Heh, hahahaha—"

The magicians didn't know why the demon king was laughing, but that didn't stop them from crawling on the ground in fear.

Then, Lu Ye abruptly stopped laughing, his expression returning to its cold and sinister look.

His eyes, filled with a fierce glint, stared unabashedly at the knight kneeling on the ground.