Song Ban and the Dungeon Warden led the Sacrificial Offerings out of the dungeon, their figures cast in the dim light, faces numb as they walked step by step towards the abyss of death.
A group of people marching to their deaths of their own accord, their bodies still alive but their souls already retreated.
Such people were worthless for any salvation.
Standing in the shadows, Ashan watched them coldly as they left.
Far away, in a distant part of the city, the banner of the Rebels was fluttering, gathering the indomitable souls—those were the people truly worthy of his struggle.
Ashan glanced at the Blood Clan Guard hanging limply from a rope, then watched as his former colleague was led away as a Sacrificial Offering.
He only found it darkly amusing.
He had no extra emotion to waste on these people. There were other matters at hand.
The investigation in the Castle was complete, and the old farmer’s situation had been confirmed.
Next, it was time to leave this place of trouble as soon as possible.
Thinking thus, he quietly released a Source Fruit into the darkness.
Leaving the dungeon and wandering through the Castle was not a difficult matter for Ashan, but passing through the heavily guarded gate to get outside would be a bit more challenging.
But right now, the main members of the Blood Clan, as well as most of the servants and Guards, had gone to attend the Moon Eclipse Festival.
The Castle’s defensive strength was thus very weak, making it the perfect opportunity for him to leave.
Not far away, two Guards in iron armor, holding long spears, were passing by.
Ashan pressed his body against the icy stone wall, holding his breath, focusing on the Guards’ movements with the help of faint light.
One step, two steps… As the Guards’ footsteps gradually faded away, the air in the surroundings seemed to grow lighter.
Ashan let out a silent, cold laugh, as if everything was under his control.
Just then, the stillness of the night was shattered by a sharp, piercing noise—
A gust of wind swept through the room, knocking over a candlestick on the shelf and sending the delicate cup holding the Whale Candle Core crashing to the floor.
In a flash, the two Guards turned their heads and strode toward this direction.
“Who’s there!”
His hiding place had been discovered by the Guards.
It seemed he had no choice but to charge forward.
He paused only for a heartbeat, then burst out like a hunting leopard.
Two short blades shot from his sleeves, aiming directly at the nearest Guard.
The Guards were no fools—one dodged, ducked, and instantly launched a counterattack.
In the ensuing struggle, time ticked by moment after moment.
Finally, Ashan locked one Guard’s wrist and, with a fierce strike, knocked him to the ground.
Immediately after, he dispatched the other in a swift, thunderous move.
Silence returned to the surroundings.
He dragged himself away from the two Guards’ corpses, the adrenaline from the fight already faded, leaving him hollow.
A deep wound throbbed on his thigh, staining the floor beneath him with fresh blood.
In the distance, torches flared.
The ceremony had ended, and the Blood Clan and other Guards would be coming soon.
Ashan suddenly realized that just a single misstep had left him cornered.
The injury made it impossible to walk normally, let alone escape across the hard stones of the Castle.
Cold sweat soaked his back.
In desperation, he stumbled into the servants’ quarters underground, and while no one was watching, slipped into a cluttered storage room.
“Quick! Find that Sacrificial Offering! Bring him to me at once! He must be dealt with before the Princess finds out!”
Before he could catch his breath, the harsh voice of the old butler sounded outside.
The Guards’ corpses would surely be found soon, and any traces left behind would expose his whereabouts.
Now, there was no way out.
He hunched in the shadowy storeroom, eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight—the only brightness within his field of vision.
The Castle was filled with people, Guards everywhere, their footsteps and conversations tangled together.
Ashan knew he would be found before long, and would finally meet the judgment of death.
Is this the ending?
In the quiet, the Silver-haired Youth gave a self-mocking smile.
No, he didn’t want it to end this way.
He was the notorious third assassin of the Hei Li generation—such an ending was nothing like that of a hero.
Bathed in trembling candlelight, Ashan leaned on the wall and forced himself upright.
“No… It’s far from over.”
He sneered coldly as he reached toward the candlestick.
“If I must die, then let the Moon Eclipse Festival be buried with me.”
In the Grand Hall, beneath the hanging Golden Curtain, Princess Zeer rolled up her sleeves, admiring the patterns blooming on her white arm.
The shape of those floral marks was identical to the ones that had appeared on King Steyat’s arm.
She extended her arm for Queen Clis to see.
“Mother, look,” she pointed at the markings on her arm, “this time the Sacred Seal Flower Mark grew more profusely than in past years. Our clan can now gain even more power through the blood sacrifice.”
“Good, my daughter,” Clis smiled approvingly, “you’ve done very well. Keep it up. With the power bestowed by the Divine Abyss Goddess, humanity will bow to us.”
“That’s right, Lier,” King Steyat also echoed from the side, “You are the one bearing the hopes of the Blood Clan—never forget your mission.”
Zeer smiled, nodding slightly, gently caressing the intricate patterns on her arm, reluctant to let go.
The Sacred Seal Flower Mark was a sign that only the King and his heirs in the Blood Clan could bear.
The more the mark bloomed, the stronger the power gained from blood sacrifice.
Every year at the Moon Eclipse Festival, the Blood Clan would offer living humans to the Divine Abyss Goddess in exchange for increased strength.
The growth of their power would be directly reflected in the Sacred Seal Flower Mark on the royal family.
Therefore, the complex and beautiful markings on Lier’s arm also symbolized the strength of the entire Blood Clan.
“Let’s end for today, Father, Mother. You should rest early.”
She closed her eyes, and with a thought, the patterns faded, her skin once again smooth and flawless.
Suddenly, a thunderous bang erupted, shaking everyone’s hearts.
The ancient wooden doors of the Grand Hall were flung open, screeching sharply.
Accompanying it were the shrill, panicked screams of the maids, piercing the stillness of the night.
“Fire! There’s a fire—!”
A Guard rushed in shouting, and following close behind was Laura, her face pale with fright.
“Your Highness! Your Majesty! Quickly, leave this place! There’s a fire!” she cried hoarsely.
For a moment, Zeer’s mind went blank, a nameless panic rising in her chest.
“What? What’s happening?” Though her voice trembled, she struggled to remain calm.
“There’s a fire in the kitchen! Now the storerooms are also burning fiercely. The fire will spread here very soon!” The Guard reported urgently, “Please, Your Majesties, leave at once!”
The people in the hall were thrown into chaos, all discipline forgotten.
They surged toward the exits in panic, the Guards desperately trying to maintain order, but the scene was slipping out of control.
Zeer took a deep breath, calming the turmoil within, then stood up.
She asked no more questions, gathered her robe, and followed the crowd toward the door.
Laura and the other Guards followed closely, escorting the King, Queen, and Princess.
In the sky, the glaring blood-red moon had already disappeared, replaced by the fierce blaze consuming the Castle.
The fire lit up the heavens, tearing the night apart.
The Castle’s outline twisted and deformed in the flames, as if the gates of hell had been flung open.
Inside and outside the Castle, people were running in all directions, many illuminated as they tried to save themselves.
Down by the riverside at the foot of the mountain, nobles gathered in groups, huddled together by their servants, temporarily escaping the chaos.
They clustered in twos and threes, whispering in shock about the fire that had broken out tonight.
Song Ban stood on a patch of tall grass at the edge, counting heads by the firelight.
“All members of the royal family have been safely evacuated, and the remaining Blood Clan lords who have not left are also all here.”
Half his face hidden in shadow, he wore a grave expression.
“Although many Guards and others are still inside the Castle, the Guard Captain has already organized rescue operations, so the casualties shouldn’t be too severe. The overall situation is stable…”
“Song Ban, wait!” A clear voice interrupted him.
Song Ban looked up to see Koban, her face pale.
She hurried over, her black hair tousled by the night wind, her face smudged with ash, her voice no longer calm as before.
“Where is Yong? My personal maid is still inside!”
She demanded loudly, drawing the attention of other Blood Clan members, who all looked over in shock at Koban.