"Not qualified? The eldest prince was rarely not angry, he snorted coldly twice, and said: "It is me, the eldest son who has always looked down on you, who snatched the crown from your head with your own hands!"

He took two steps forward, as if he really wanted to snatch the scepter that Emperor Grievous had been holding in his hand. "I've wasted a lot of time with you, and now please make good on your promise. ”

"As the head of a country, it would be a shame to go back on your word, father. ”

Faced with the persecution of the Great Prince, Grievous the Great shook his head, he sat up straight, his expressionless face as if he was wearing a metal mask, shielding all human feelings from it, cold and ruthless.

"Let's do it. He said coldly.

Just when Emperor Grievous's words fell, and everyone didn't know what he said, the eldest prince suddenly felt a pain in his heart. A dagger thrust through his shoulder blade with precision, piercing his heart like a cold-blooded and cunning viper.

The eldest prince opened his mouth, like a fish out of the water, and wanted to scream. He wanted to go back and see what it was that shameless person had done such an assassination. But he couldn't even move a finger, not only was his heart pierced and fatally wounded, but the dagger was also smeared with the poison that sealed his throat with blood, and almost in an instant, the eldest prince fell to the ground weakly, lifeless.

Just now, this prince was still in high spirits, and he was only one step away from the supreme position of the Saint-Teresan Kingdom, but in the blink of an eye, he became a corpse, and the world was impermanent, nothing more than this.

The eldest prince didn't see who was plotting him until he died, but the "great general" standing behind him really saw it, it was the great prince's henchman, Gletchev who single-handedly planned this attack!

Although he looked like an old man, he was extremely agile, and with the sound of "Let's do it" from Emperor Grievous, a dagger popped out of his sleeve and plunged straight into the back of the prince's heart. Because it was so unexpected and Gletchev's movements were too fast, no one could stop his assassination, even though the Grand Prince was surrounded by guards!

The general was so angry that his hair was wide open, and his eyes were torn. They will succeed in the rebellion and set up a new king! When the time comes, as the heroes of this rebellion, they will be glorious and rich, and they will all deserve to be honored and worshipped, and they may also become new nobles, hereditary replacement, and shadow future generations.

However, all these dreams and all efforts have disappeared with the death of the eldest prince, and it is no longer possible. If they have lost the great prince, who else can they appoint as kings? These soldiers, who have gambled their lives on this operation, could have become heroes who changed the world a moment ago, but now they have all become chaotic ministers and thieves, and everyone will be punished and will be engraved on the pillar of shame forever.

Not only will he not be able to achieve fame, but he will bring disaster to his family, how can he not be angry, how can he not hate?

The gap from heaven to hell provoked the general to go berserk, and he roared and slashed at Gletchev with the steel knife in his hand, while shouting angrily: "Why! Why do you do this!"

This is also his biggest puzzle, what is Gletchev doing this for? As the right hand of the great prince and a confidant, once the great prince succeeds to the throne, Gletchev will be the best choice for prime minister, a supreme minister, and one person is above 10,000 people! Why did he betray at the moment when he was close to success?

What is even more inconceivable to the general is why Gletchev chose to betray at this time? He has always followed the great prince, tried his best, and gave advice, and the great prince also gave him the greatest trust, and he had no defense against him at all.

If he wanted to assassinate, Gletchev could assassinate at any time, why did he attack the palace and kill so many people? If he was really a subordinate of Grievous the Great, he could have carried out the assassination when the prince had two hearts and solved the trouble, so why bother to make such a big move?

However, his question was destined to go unanswered, as the guards around him recovered from their shock and anger and brandished their weapons to chop Gletchev into pulp.

This old man, who usually looks shriveled and thin, has no power to restrain chickens, but he has revealed shocking martial arts!

The body, which had been like a bamboo pole, swelled up as if it had blown air, and its pale and dull face was as ruddy as a young man. Gletchev was short, and his already low height was among the tall and large soldiers, but it was just up to their waists.

Gletchev was like a swift tanuki, rushing left and right, jumping up and down, surrounded by heavy surrounding, as if he had entered a no-man's land, but under the shadow of the sword and sword, he was not injured at all. The movements of the guards were like slow motion to him, and the warriors, who had been called athletic, were not as threatening as the thick benzene stakes they were playing with Gletchev.

"Plop plop" sounded one after another, and more than a dozen soldiers really fell straight to the ground like wooden stakes. Their faces were purple, their eyes were rolling, and they were obviously poisonous, and they had wounds on their legs, large and small, of varying depths, all of which were wounded by Gletchev's dagger.

But even if it was a mere filament-like wound, these soldiers were all poisoned and died extremely quickly, and there was no one who could survive.

Such a poisonous person!

The general gritted his teeth and commanded: "Round, scatter!"

It was only a matter of two words, but it was enough for these well-trained soldiers, who dispersed at great speed, forming a circle to encircle Gletchev. In the face of these scattered soldiers, it was impossible for Gletchev to use the chaotic formation to flicker and move as he had just done.

"Short sword, throw!", another two-word concise order.

The soldiers who had already had a tacit understanding threw spare short swords at Gletchev, who was standing in the center of the circle, and hundreds of short swords with extreme hatred and anger flew towards Gletchev, who had to break his body into pieces and chop him into pulp in order to vent the hatred in the hearts of these soldiers.

Faced with the short sword that came in a swarm as if to drown himself, Gretchev raised the short dagger in his hand. In an instant, he seemed to have grown a thousand hands, and the dagger flew up and down, picking left and right, and there was an afterimage in the air!