Chapter 190: Chapter190-Kyrik Mausoleum
As soon as the cold yet firm words of the Kyrik King echoed out, he strode out of the great hall with determined steps.
However, the moment he stepped outside, he was greeted by rows of men and women kneeling at the entrance, all trembling in fear with their heads lowered.
Among them, conspicuously, were the Second Prince and Windsor, who had been lying in a brothel not long ago.
When the Kyrik King had flown into a rage earlier, they were immediately roused by the royal guards, and now they knelt at the entrance, trembling with terror as they begged for forgiveness.
They had no idea how to explain the absurdity of the situation.
Everything felt like a dream—falling asleep the night before and waking up now, only to find themselves inexplicably inside a brothel.
As the Kyrik King scanned the row of kneeling figures, including the Second Prince, his gaze was like a sharp blade, as if he could slice them to pieces on the spot.
His already indifferent expression grew even colder.
He had once held great expectations for the Second Prince and these other princes.
They were all quite talented and had the full support of Kyrik’s resources.
The Kyrik King had hoped they would become the pillars of the nation.
To this end, he had hired the best mentors and provided them with precious cultivation resources, hoping they would achieve something great and contribute to Kyrik’s strength.
But to his utter shock and disappointment, the Second Prince and those he had valued so highly, instead of helping him in this critical moment by thinking of ways to eliminate Owen, had indulged in debauchery and disgrace, even bringing shame upon him!
The more the Kyrik King thought about it, the angrier he became.
His chest heaved violently as rage boiled within him like an erupting volcano.
His fists clenched tightly, and his knuckles turned white from the strain.
Slash!
In the next instant, he abruptly drew the sword of the guard next to him.
The cold light flashed, and before the nearest princes could even beg for mercy, blood spurted from their necks, and their heads fell to the ground in an instant!
Warm blood splattered across the faces of the Second Prince and others kneeling nearby.
They stared in horror, their eyes wide, but none dared to make a sound.
Silence!
An eerie stillness blanketed the scene.
No one had expected the king to be so enraged, slaughtering his own sons with his own hands!
The severed heads that rolled on the ground still bore expressions of terror and despair.
Having beheaded several princes with a single sword, the Kyrik King tossed the bloodstained blade to the ground with a loud clang, the sound echoing sharply in the oppressive silence.
He turned his cold gaze to Kate, the captain of the royal guards, his eyes devoid of any mercy or hesitation.
“Captain Kate, send the Second Prince and Windsor on their way,” the Kyrik King said, his voice as cold and final as if it came from the depths of hell.
Without looking back, the Kyrik King strode away from the palace.
Behind him, six master-tier powerhouses, who had been summoned earlier, followed closely, their expressions solemn as they acted as his bodyguards.
Their shadows stretched long behind them in the fading light, as if they were an extension of the surrounding darkness.
As soon as the Kyrik King left, Captain Kate let out a soft sigh, then gripped his sword tightly, pointing it at the Second Prince and Windsor.
“Second Prince, don’t blame me. I’m just following orders,” Captain Kate said, his voice heavy with resignation.
Without hesitation, he moved.
The sword flashed, and in an instant, the Second Prince and Windsor, who had just snapped out of their shock, were all beheaded with a single slash!
Blood sprayed everywhere like a fountain, filling the air with the stench of iron and death.
Meanwhile, in a tall tower within the palace, a shadowy figure flickered into view, none other than the invisible Owen!
Owen gazed at the retreating figure of the Kyrik King, whispering to himself, “I didn’t expect him to move so soon. Off to the mausoleum for reinforcements already, huh? Well, this works out just fine.”
Owen narrowed his eyes, a trace of calculation flickering within them as if he were plotting something.
Before long, after the Kyrik King had left with the master-tier mages, Owen’s figure vanished as if he had never been there.
…
While Owen began laying his plans, it didn’t take long for news about him, spread by Edward, to sweep across the continent once again.
Cloud Empire.
Inside a bustling tavern filled with smoke and chatter, groups of mages gathered around in threes and fives, loudly discussing the latest rumors.
“Did you hear? Owen’s negotiations with the Kyrik King fell through, and in his fury, Owen blew up four of Kyrik’s major cities! Unbelievable!” shouted a mage with a scruffy beard, his face flushed as he waved his arms animatedly.
“I haven’t heard anything about Owen for days, but I never thought he was brewing something this big! That’s four of Kyrik’s major cities!” exclaimed a young mage nearby, his eyes wide with disbelief.
“With four major cities destroyed, the Kyrik King definitely won’t take this lying down. Owen may be a genius, but he doesn’t have the foundation to back this up. Offending Kyrik like this seems way too reckless,” another mage chimed in.
“That’s all old news from this morning! The latest is that Owen used some secret technique and took down Kyrik’s top master-tier powerhouse, the White Guardian, with just three punches!”
“What?! Are you serious? The White Guardian has been unrivaled in Kyrik for years, a master-tier powerhouse at the peak of his strength! How could Owen take him down so easily?”
As the discussions about Owen grew louder, more details about his deeds left the mages in the tavern gasping in astonishment.
In a corner of the tavern, however, there was a strange silence.
The Archbishop of Pyrothrone Kingdom, quietly sipping his drink, slowly lifted his head, a complex light flickering in his eyes.
“Owen, huh? I look forward to meeting you soon,” he muttered softly, a faint and enigmatic smile curling at the corners of his lips.
…
An hour later, Owen, along with Henry and a group of Middle Earth elites, silently arrived above the Kyrik Mausoleum, standing on the back of a colossal Seraphina.
Hidden among the clouds, they looked down from the sky.
Below them, the Kyrik Mausoleum loomed like a ghost town nestled within the desert.
Howling winds swept across the barren land, kicking up clouds of dust and sand.
The ancient tomb, nearly one with the surrounding mountains, exuded an aura of mystery and dread.
The towering mountains, carved and chiseled by time, were etched with the scars of wind and frost.
The enormous stones were weathered and cracked, with twisted thorns and wild grasses growing in the crevices.
The stone gates of the mausoleum, set among the wild grass, remained tightly shut.
The iron guards standing watch at the entrance were rusted and worn, silently telling the tale of past glories and ancient sorrow.
Surrounding the mausoleum was a vast, desolate wasteland, devoid of any vegetation—just endless sand and stones, with occasional glimpses of scattered bones.
In the fading light of the sunset, the desert took on a blood-red hue, sending chills down the spine.
From within the mausoleum, faint growls and eerie wind sounds echoed, as if countless vengeful spirits roamed inside.
Owen stood atop Seraphina’s head, blending seamlessly into the thick clouds, silently observing the scene below.
The Middle Earth elites behind him were growing increasingly restless.
Earlier, Owen had tasked them with infiltrating the royal palace to find clues on how to enter the mausoleum.
Despite their best efforts, they had found nothing of use, leaving them feeling uneasy.
As Owen’s power continued to grow more terrifying, so too did their reverence and fear for him.
They knew their situation was precarious and were eager for any chance to redeem themselves.
Henry took a deep breath and, gathering his courage, cautiously approached Owen. “Master Owen, is there anything we can do?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Owen cast a cold glance at them and spat out two words, “Stay quiet.”
Henry and the others nodded repeatedly, and time slowly passed in the suffocating silence.
After a while, Owen’s expression suddenly sharpened, and he muttered under his breath, “They’re here.”
Behind him, Henry and the others from Middle Earth flinched and quickly followed Owen’s gaze, looking down through the clouds.
The Kyrik King had arrived with his army!
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