Righteous Heroes? Someone Wanted to Reap the Benefits

The next day, Peter emerged from the bunker amidst the cheers and shouts of the Narnian.

He changed into a set of silver armor, held a silver shield in his left hand, and Edmund held his personal king's sword in his hands.

Opposite him stood Miraz, who was already prepared. He wore a set of dark gold armor, and behind him was the cheering of countless Telmar soldiers.

"Something's not quite right," Aaron said thoughtfully as he walked.

"Something's definitely not right. We all know the Telmarine don't keep their promises." Edmund wore his standard fake smile, his expression exactly the same as yesterday.

"No, that's only one aspect." Aaron's expression hardened slightly. "Look who's standing next to Miraz."

"Who else could it be? It's just the general and..." Edmund's voice trailed off, barely suppressing his shock, "How could it be the three of them?"

"That's exactly what I was worried about. The three people who encouraged Miraz to accept the challenge yesterday are all there, but none of the others are here. There's something wrong with that," Aaron said meaningfully. "Miraz is quite pitiful. He just succeeded in usurping the throne, and he hasn't even settled into his position yet, but someone is already eyeing his seat."

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked, puzzled.

We are at...

"We're talking about Miraz's fate," Aaron said, adopting an air of superiority. "I'm, by all accounts, a Divination."

Although there is no Crystal Ball here, my Heavenly Eye tells me that tomorrow is Miraz's death day.

"I won, didn't I?" Peter breathed a sigh of relief. Although he was somewhat confident in his swordsmanship, there was a big difference between self-satisfaction and Reality Stone.

"I don't know if you can win, but Miraz is definitely going to die."

Someone wants to see the two sides fight so that a third party can reap the benefits. If nothing unexpected happens, it should be one of the three people behind Miraz, with the middle one, Puspi, being a member of the Telmar Council; he is the most likely candidate.

Edmund nodded in agreement and said in a deep voice, "Peter, we must prepare as soon as possible."

"I estimate that the war will begin as soon as the duel ends, Puspi won't give us any time to react."

"Understood." Peter took a deep breath. "Aaron, you should inform Caspian later and tell him to be ready to strike at any time."

"I'll take him!" Edmund said. "Your safety will be guaranteed if he stays here."

"That's right, Miraz isn't a good person either."

"I can't rule out, no, he'll definitely resort to some underhanded tricks."

Peter nodded slightly, then drew the Longsword that Edmund was holding and showed it to Miraz opposite him, indicating that he was ready.

Miraz sat in his chair, adjusted the wrist guards on his arm, and subtly winked at General Sophi was holding the crossbow, "Once you realize the situation is unfavorable to me..."

Sophi glanced down at the crossbow in his hand, then exchanged a subtle look with Puspi. "I understand, Your Majesty."

Miraz was slightly relieved and took the helmet from Puspi's hand. "If I win, I hope I won't disappoint you too much."

A general on one side presented weapons and shields, and Miraz slowly walked onto the ring, standing opposite Peter. "It's not too late to surrender now."

"You should surrender!"

How many more people must die for the throne?

"You." Peter down his mask. "One."

The next moment, the two rushed towards each other, their swords and shields clashing together with a clang.

Peter was strong and agile, while Miraz was quite experienced. The first few rounds were evenly matched, but before half a minute had passed, Peter slashed Miraz across the back with his sword.

Just as the centaurs and black bear watching the battle up close were smiling, Miraz slammed his shield into Peter's face, knocking off his helmet.

Peter leaned back to dodge the sword tip aimed at his neck, then quickly crouched down and Cleansweep, leaving a bloody gash on Miraz's knee.

Miraz grunted and took a few steps back, putting some distance between himself and Peter.

He quickly gave Sophi a wink, signaling him to release the arrow immediately.

The general held the crossbow bolts, his expression unchanged, and made no comment.

Miraz, whether he genuinely didn't see it or was pretending not to, roared in anger and stabbed Peter with his sword.

In his rage, his fighting prowess instantly surged, and he quickly overpowered Peter, kicking him to the ground and then stomping hard on Peter's shield.

Peter gripped the shield with his left hand, and Miraz's stomp caused excruciating pain in his left arm.

Miraz pressed his advantage, slashing downwards with his sword, forcing Peter to roll backwards to dodge the attacks.

After rolling around a few times, Peter advanced instead of retreating, raising his Longsword to strike Miraz's shield, and then tripped him with his foot.

The two of them quickly got up, looking at each other warily, both panting and exhausted.

Just then, Edmund rushed over; he had already told Caspian to get ready.

"Does Your Majesty need to rest for a moment?" Miraz adopted the demeanor of an elder, his voice sounding strong and vigorous, but his face was contorted beneath the mask, the wounds on his legs and back were simply too painful.

"Clock," Peter said, barely managing to speak, his arms starting to give way.

"Three bells".

The two dragged their exhausted bodies out of the arena. Puspi arranged the chairs, and Sophi put away his crossbow.

Miraz threw his helmet on the ground and glared fiercely at the general, scolding him, "I don't think you'll let this dangerous situation happen again."

The general nodded guiltily, then helped Miraz to a chair and bandaged his wounds.

Peter was also helped to sit down by Edmund; he only had an arm injury and was in slightly better condition Miraz.

"How are you feeling?" Edmund asked worriedly.

"I think my shoulder is dislocated."

"I'll do it. I've studied medicine too." Aaron volunteered to examine Peter, carefully taking his left arm. "It might hurt a little."

Click!

Peter cried out in pain, and his left arm no longer hurt as much as before.

"What will my family think if I die here?" Peter asked Edmund. "You've been helping me all this time, I really don't know..."

"You're not dead yet, so don't rush to give your last words." Aaron said speechlessly, "Miraz is more seriously injured than you."

"I'm worried about what might happen."

"There's no chance." Aaron lifted his cloak, revealing a Flintlock Gun clearly in their eyes.

"This...you have a fourth gun." Edmund opened his mouth, then looked at Peter. "It seems your safety is really not a concern. But I feel like something's off."

We should be upright people, right? Sniping at someone in the shadows is... rather unethical.

Aaron's lips twitched. "From what you're saying, am I the villain?"

Then I'll leave and let your brother and Miraz fight to the death.

Oh, Peter, you should probably say your last words!

I don't think the general's crossbow is just for show; it's meant for you. I hope your brother, a righteous man, can withstand his crossbow bolts."

"No!" Edmund quickly stopped Aaron, chuckling awkwardly, "It was just a joke, please don't take it to heart."

Aaron rolled his eyes at Edmund with disdain, then took out a red medicine bottle and handed it to him.

Just as Edmund reached for the bottle, Aaron swiftly snatched it back, saying sarcastically, "I suppose the righteous King Edmund wants his elder brother to have a fair fight, right? Using drugs to heal is unfair to Miraz!"

"At a time like this, who cares about this?" Edmund said anxiously. "Give me the medicine right now, I was wrong just now, okay!"

Aaron didn't press him further and handed him the medicine bottle.

After Peter took a small sip of the rice, his injuries were completely healed.

"Give me oil, King Peter!"

Your brother gave me a heads-up: I don't consider myself a villain, and I can't bring myself to shoot you in the back during a crisis.

So at most, I can shield you from the general's hidden arrows, but if you die in the actual duel, I... will mourn for you for a minute.

Peter paused for a moment, a hint of helplessness creeping into his gaze as he looked at Edmund.

Why can't you control your mouth?

Now, what was originally a sure win has become more uncertain.

Edmund gave an awkward laugh, speechless.

"By the way, as a respectable older brother, it's best not to hit someone's injured leg, otherwise it won't be honorable to win."

Upon hearing this, Peter at the bandage on Miraz's right leg, a hint of hesitation flashing in his eyes, but he quickly regained his resolve.

"Are you... really that serious?" Edmund said, half-laughing and half-crying, reminding him while subtly mocking him.

Aaron patted him on the shoulder and said earnestly, "You're still young, and it's right for you to have a sense of justice."

But if you've had an experience like mine, encountering all sorts of insidious villains, you'll know that to deal with bad guys, you have to be even more cunning and treacherous than them.

I've gone up to prepare. The outcome of this duel is already clear, but the later battles are hard to predict.

After saying that, Aaron turned and walked towards the bunker, where a heavy sniper rifle was waiting for him.

Three minutes passed quickly, and Peter and Miraz stood up from their seats.

This time, none of them wore helmets, trying to travel as light as possible.

Without any hesitation, the two charged at each other as soon as they stepped onto the ring.

Miraz attacked first, swinging his sword with full force from the start, catching Peter off guard, but he quickly recovered.

Aaron twisted his arm back down, and he also drank Lucy's Potions. Apart from being somewhat exhausted, his condition was far superior to Miraz's.

After a few rounds, he seized Miraz's sword, took it from him, and began his formal counterattack.

Having lost his weapon, Miraz could only raise his shield to defend himself.

The king's shield was undoubtedly of excellent quality; Peter's frenzied attacks were blocked by him, and he even managed to knock the sword out of Peter's hand.

The two engaged in close combat, with Miraz still holding a shield, giving him a slight advantage.

Miraz, his face contorted with rage, slammed his shield into Peter's face and, as Peter retreated, pressed his advantage, punching Peter again in the face.

Feeling slightly dizzy, Peter saw the black shield pressing down on him, and he immediately grabbed the edge of the shield and began to wrestle with Miraz.

After a brief standoff, Peter grabbed his shield, spun around, and flipped behind Miraz.

Miraz let out a scream as his left hand was twisted, and immediately used his free right hand to elbow Peter, knocking him back.

He threw Peter onto a rock, turned around, picked up his sword, and slashed down hard at Peter.

Peter dodged the first sword with a somersault, and blocked the second sword with his wrist guards.

Seeing that Miraz was about to strike with his third sword, he immediately grabbed the Longsword that was about to be raised and punched Miraz in the chin.

Miraz staggered back a step.

Before he could create distance, Peter straightened up and punched him in the bandage on his right leg.

The intense pain instantly rendered Miraz unable to fight; his Longsword slipped from his hand, and he collapsed to his knees.

"Pause," Miraz said.

Peter remained unmoved, clenching his fist as if to strike.

Seeing this, Miraz immediately bent his other knee from the bottom of his heart, and his voice was more pleading, "Please stop."

"Now is not the time to show chivalry," Edmund warned from outside the ring.

The Narnian shouted for their king to act quickly and not hold back.

Peter struggled for a moment, then slowly lowered his right hand, turned around, and walked back to his seat.

Miraz watched his retreating figure, a glint of malice flashing in his eyes. He grabbed the Longsword from the ground and stood up.

"Watch out!" Edmund cried.

Sensing danger from behind, Peter instinctively ducked to avoid the horizontal slash of the sword.

He turned around quickly, and as Miraz stabbed him again, he grabbed the Longsword, twisted it with both hands to disarm Longsword, and then turned around and thrust the Longsword fiercely into the ground.

Miraz felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and opened his eyes wide in astonishment.

He never expected the sneak attack to fail, and the price of failure to be so severe—it cost him most of his life.

Peter drew his Longsword, and Miraz felt another sharp pain in his side, collapsing to his knees.

He looked at Longsword, who had raised his Peter but hesitated to strike, and said coldly, "What's wrong, kid?"

Too timid to take action?

"I'm not the one who should kill you," Peter replied, then looked at Caspian outside the ring.

Caspian immediately understood, took the Longsword from Peter, and walked up to Miraz.

"Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps you are the rightful king of the Telmarine," Miraz said sincerely, then closed his eyes and quietly awaited his death.

Looking at his father's killer, Caspian roared and stabbed down hard.

The Longsword plunged into the ground, Miraz, hearing the sound, opened his eyes in a daze.

"I will never be like you," Caspian said. "I don't want your life, but I want to return Narnia to the Narnian."

Furthermore, I must remind you that your throne is not secure. Puspi and the others are watching coldly from the sidelines, offering no assistance whatsoever.

After saying this, Caspian turned and left, and the victorious Narnian erupted in deafening cheers.

Puspi quickly walked over and helped Miraz, who was kneeling on the ground, to his feet. "My king."

"I'll settle accounts with you after this is over." Miraz glared fiercely at the grinning Puspi. He wasn't stupid; even a fool couldn't have successfully murdered his brother and usurped the throne.

He sensed something was wrong yesterday, and with Caspian's reminder, he was absolutely certain that Puspi coveted his throne, and that General Sophi and some of his generals had probably secretly joined his ranks.