"Your end has come, too."
As Yas's cold, indifferent voice rang through the hall like a death knell, the entire magnificent palace seemed to plunge into an eternal winter.
The dancing girls who had been gracefully performing screamed in terror, huddling together and trembling. The musicians were so frightened that they dropped their instruments and fled into the corners in abject panic.
The entire hall descended into chaos.
"An... enemy?"
On the throne, the fat, bloated King Bach wore undisguised panic and shock on a face usually filled with brutality and overbearing menace.
He stared at the figure standing before the shattered doors, alone yet radiating an aura more terrifying than thousands of troops, and struggled to process what he saw.
An enemy?
Just one?
How had he gotten in?!
What about the thirty thousand city defense troops outside? What about the supposedly impregnable walls? And what about his finest vanguard, led by the wildebeest commander?
Were they all a bunch of useless idiots?!
"Protect me! Protect me!"
After a brief moment of panic, Bach immediately let out a hysterical roar.
"King's Guard! Where the hell have you useless bastards gone?! Kill him for me! Kill him!"
At his roar, heavy, synchronized footsteps sounded from every direction around the hall.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Over a hundred burly figures in pitch-black heavy armor, carrying enormous horse-slaying sabers and reeking of blood and slaughter, emerged from the shadows like phantoms and surrounded Yas.
Every one of them had an icy, fanatical gaze, fixed unblinkingly on their prey like the most loyal hunting hounds.
These men were Bach's proudest trump card, the strongest fighting force he had cultivated at the cost of countless resources and blood—the King's Guard!
Leading them was an exceptionally tall man with a horrific scar running from his forehead