With a slash of the sword, Bethel stumbled forward, and his center of gravity was unstable and fell to the ground. He had also cultivated Battle Qi, but after cultivating to the second level, he found that he had no talent in this area, and second, he would inevitably inherit the title in the future, so he did not continue to study. After so many years of war, today was the first time he felt sorry for his stupid past, if he could persevere, even if he couldn't kill the assassin today, at least he would be able to get out.

When a person is nervous and severely traumatized, the brain will directly give instructions to secrete more adrenaline for the purpose of self-help. The rush of adrenaline is enough to make people feel no pain at all for a short period of time, thus relieving a series of negative emotions caused by pain.

But it is important to know that pain is actually the most important way for human beings to perceive the outside world and internally.

A powerful gladiator once believed that pain was an obstacle to his ascension, so he had his perception of pain cut off, and in the first fight, he was decapitated due to excessive blood loss and shock. (It's a real thing, but it's a boxer, and one boxer had the doctor cut off all his pain nerves, then fought his opponent and nearly died on the stage because his ribs were inserted into his organs.) ）

At this time, Bethel did not feel any pain, and he rolled backwards with his hands and feet to get away from the assassin. But how could he be better than an assassin standing on two legs and walking and running? Not all animals are faster than humans on all fours, and many are much slower than humans, including humans themselves.

The Assassin twisted his neck, strode forward to Bethel's side amid the screams of the passers-by, raised his dagger and stabbed Bethel into his body, blood splattering and dripping. Every time the dagger was pulled out of Bethel's body and stabbed into it, Bethel shuddered. His consciousness was already a little blurred, and he stretched out his hand to grab the short sword that kept robbing him of life, but five of his fingers were cut off, and he didn't grasp the short sword.

He subconsciously begged for mercy, but the assassin did not waver in the slightest, his consciousness became more and more blurred, more and more tired, resisting and struggling, and becoming more and more powerless.

After twenty or thirty thrusts, Bethel's entire chest was almost rotten, and the assassin pierced his heart with a sword, tilted his head to look at the deserted street and the crowd of onlookers, casually inserted the dagger into the scabbard, and disappeared into the alley by the roadside in one go.

Less than ten minutes after he left, several soldiers of the Guards rushed towards him. They looked at Bethel, who had lost its lifeform on the ground, looked at each other, shook their heads and sighed.

They were sent by Empress Pars, and she suddenly realized that Tutat could kill his whole family, so why couldn't Bethel kill himself? She had to keep Bethel and keep him in the position of Minister of National Security in order to save her face. At this time, although she and Wren have not completely torn their faces on the surface, the two sides have begun to move from friction to white heat.

If Bethel dies, then all the nobles will get a signal that Wren can kill whoever he wants, he doesn't care about the rules and order of the game at all, and even Queen Pars can't keep who Wren wants to kill. This may indeed make Wren's image plummet among the aristocracy, but at the same time, it is Pars's face that has fallen worse than Wren's image.

While condemning Wren, people will also consider the question of whether it is worth it to use their lives as bargaining chips to join the fight between Wren and Pars.

Not everyone is lucky enough, and that madman from Wren will mercilessly kill the killer once he finds an opportunity, and as long as he slacks off the slightest, he may lose his own life. In that case, why continue to side with the Empress of Pars against Wren like fools, and Wren doesn't need anyone they support, as long as they can remain neutral, that is enough.

Empress Pars was not furious when she heard the news of Bethel's death, she just sat alone for a while, and then had a summons for Wren to come to see him.

Before Wren arrived, Pars had also guessed what the look on Wren's face would be when she came face to face with her.

Wrath?

Probably, after all, Wren gave her a head-on blow at the best of her life, letting her know that the empire was far from being easy for her to control.

Fear?

This is unlikely, she is the Emperor of the Empire, the seventh Emperor of the Orlando family, Her Majesty the Queen of Orlando VII, how can she feel fear in the face of Wren, a nobleman under her command?

Maybe more likely, she'll pretend nothing happened. Failures in the past, or successes, become meaningless in this moment.

What she needs to do is to maintain a calm and restrained attitude, and grasp the initiative as tightly as possible in her own hands.

More than half an hour later, the moment Wren appeared in the palace, Empress Pars, who was sitting on the throne on the steps, slapped the armrest, "Marquis Wren, do you know what you have done?", she raised her eyebrows, her aura exploded, the authority of tens of millions of people was gathered in one, and the power brought by the huge power was enough to affect reality. There was a moment in the entire hall, as if in the midst of a storm, and the air currents were rampant, stirring her long hair and the corners of her clothes.

In the face of such a violent momentum, he just smiled faintly, and flicked the corner of his coat casually, in the eyes of Empress Pars, it seemed that a huge beast suddenly pounced out from behind Wren, sweeping away those sideways violent air currents.

The two of them, one at the highest point and the other at the farthest point, looked at each other from such a distance.

One had round eyes, and the angry expression on his face was a little hideous, while the other seemed to be smiling but not smiling, and he was indifferent.

It's like a fire, a piece of ice!

In the next moment, the hideous and terrifying beast shrank back, and the Empress Pars, who seemed to be in the breeze, also half-closed her eyes, as if everything that had just happened was just an illusion of two people.

Wren walked into the hall step by step, his shoes tapping on the mirror-smooth floor. The footsteps were exceptionally crisp and loud, like some kind of rhythmic drum beat. He walked into the main hall, dragged a sofa and sat down, and lit a cigarette for himself.

Spit out a smoke, he looked up at the Empress of Pars slightly, and in a very calm and relaxed tone, asked, "What did I do?"

"You know it in your heart. Empress Pars was laughing, but she was laughing coldly.

Wren smiled, casually flicked the half-smoked cigarette butt on the ground, sparks splashed, he leaned back, and pressed his hands on the armrests, "I don't know, you explain to me." ”

At this point, they couldn't go any further, and both of them knew it, and they were silent for a while.