Donis and Sirian looked at each other, and he could see in each other's eyes the fortitude and determination that came from the depths of their souls. When things have developed to this point, it is no longer a question of right or wrong, but a choice of life or death, and only the last person who survives has the right to judge the right and wrong of the other party.

There will never be a sudden appearance of Pope Kasroni, and there will never be a trace of attachment to His Majesty the former king that remains in the bottom of his heart, and the choice after stripping off all emotional factors, seems so indifferent and cruel on this stage overflowing with ** and power.

In the King's Hall, the midday sun and burning torches could not dispel the gloom and solemnity here. Everyone held their breath, as if with all their strength, their eyes wide and stared at the two people in the center of the stage, who were both the participating characters and the spectators moving with the wind. For them, even swallowing saliva has become an extremely difficult task.

Time passed silently, and after a long time, Donis turned his head slightly, looking at the oak throne that symbolized the pinnacle of power. He smiled, bitterly, presumptuously, and fearlessly, as if he had had had enough. "Come, Sirian, come, prove to me that you are right!"

The invisible taut strings in the air suddenly broke, and all luck or expectation became an unnecessary burden, and all that was left was a bitter sigh. "Donis...... You shouldn't be like that......" Sirian whispered.

Fastie, who was standing on the steps, seemed to have collapsed, and he raised his finger in a panic and pointed at Sirian and screamed: "The Imperial Guard! In the name of the king's will!

"Who of you dare!" I order you, in your capacity as the crown prince, to lay down your weapons!" Sovereign roared as dozens of Imperial Guards held their spears in unison.

With Soveland's roar, the movements of the Imperial Guards were noticeable, but the sound that came after them dispelled all their concerns. "Your Highness, you need to calm down!" Donis said, "I will be the regent of Orem until you reach adulthood!" he chuckled and looked at Sirian, "The Imperial Guards obey the order and arrest Lord Sirian immediately!"

Dozens of spear tips glowing with cold light slowly approached Sirian, and Duke Junhe looked at Fasti on the steps with contempt, as if questioning the other party, is this your loyalty? The latter's gaze dodged, without a trace of courage to look at him.

There was a bang, and Tande, who was standing at the doorway, pulled, for the irascible general, fists were always the first choice to solve problems, and justification was only the job of a little woman. "Get out of here!" he drew his sword from his waist and kicked away the Imperial Guard in his way with a shout of rage. "Obey the order! Arrest the traitor Donis and his accomplices at once! Whoever dares to resist will be killed!"

As he spoke, Tandra led his guards to rush towards Cirian and Sovereign in the encirclement, and several thick sword lights suddenly rose in the dark king's hall, and several imperial guards were knocked out by Tandra's huge force. But apparently, the tower-like commander didn't kill him, he just struck things off.

At this moment, Daruk, who had not moved, spoke. "The Guards are attacking! The traitors are Sirian and Tandra!"

"Are you crazy!" Tandra roared back to Daruk, as if he had heard something most incredible.

More than two dozen soldiers of the garrison immediately crossed Daruk, who was holding his hands behind his back, and rushed to the three people in the field. "Your Excellency, do you want us to join you in treason?" said Daruk, smiling, glancing up at the silent Imperial Historian in the corner, his father Korno, "You have been blinded by blind friendship, my lord!"

The fierce clash of weapons sounded beside Sirian, and in an instant, he understood. From the fall of the Imperial Clerk Victor, to the replacement of the acting Clerk Kadog, from the forced resignation of the Praetorian Elder Sean, to the temporary leadership of the Imperial Guard, from the assassin's corpse being conspired to dispose of, the deputy commander Daruch rebelled against Tandra, from the replacement of the king's will, to becoming a "traitor" himself.

Everything that seems to be unrelated forms a big net of intrigue at this moment, covering itself in it. Donis finally showed his hideous fangs at the last moment, and anyone who stood in his way would be mercilessly killed.

Cyrian grabbed Sovereign beside him, wielded his sword and slashed out of the Praetorian guards, moving closer and closer in the direction of Beorn and Loca. With his peripheral vision, he saw Donis, who had retired behind the Imperial Guard, the careerist who had been withholding it for ten years.

Their eyes converged on the staggered weapons, and Donis squinted his eyes and smiled and uttered a silent lip that he knew Cillian must understand. Indeed, Duke Junhe saw the other party's meaning clearly. "Don't worry......"

Cilian roared, blocking the two Guardsmen, and he had no suspicion of Donis's ruthlessness. As long as Sovereign is placed in his hands, Aiden's only son will be killed by Donis in a seemingly accidental plot for the next two years. When the time comes, with the echo of the courtiers, he will become the real king of Orem from the regent.

"Beorn, get Sauvera out!" Cyrian yelled at his son through the Guards, knowing that only by escaping Oak City would he have a chance to survive and defeat Donis. As for war, the Duke of Junhe has never been afraid of war.

"Yes, father!" replied Beorn, as he led Sirian's guards forward, trying to break through the encirclement of the garrison and save Sirian and Sovereign.

Shouting louder and louder, Tandra wielded his greatsword to fend off the attack from the Praetorian Guard, the soldiers of the Guards were squeezed by the combined forces of Sirian and Beorn, and were about to show signs of collapse. If there was still room for the attack just now, countless blood flowers had already bloomed in the current King's Hall.

A mist of blood erupted, and Sirian finally joined up with Beorn, who pushed Sawylan to his son. "Take him away, quick!" Cilian commanded, wiping the blood from his face.

Sovereign was on the verge of collapse, and although none of the soldiers on all sides had targeted him, he did not hide from the sidelines, but fought with Cyrian. "What about you, Uncle Sirian!" he asked.

Beorn interrupted him. "Come with me, my father will ......"

Suddenly, Beorn's unfinished words stuck in his throat, a painful expression froze on his face, and Yin Hong's blood gushed out of his mouth. Sirian and Sovereign were stunned, their mouths slightly open, and they saw the scene behind Beorn that they had never dreamed of.

Loka Toure, Cillian's adopted son, stabbed his short sword into the back of his older brother, Beorn, with a cruel smile on his emaciated face, without the warmth it once had. "Duke Junhe, it's time for a change...... he said, staring into his father's eyes and smirking.

"Beorne!" Sovereign caught Beorn's body, tears blurring his eyes, "Are you crazy! Loka, hell, are you crazy!

Cyrion's heart was about to break, and in the midst of this jungle of fire and sword, he looked fixedly at Loca, the man who, though his adopted son, was better than his own son. "Tell me...... Why ?......," he muttered.

"You're in the way of a lot of people!Father!" Loka stood there, trembling slightly, not knowing whether it was fear or excitement.

Sirian closed his eyes, and a tear slipped from the wrinkled corner of his eye, the last trace of warmth he had for this son. "Your sin is unforgivable!" Duke Junhe suddenly opened his eyes, and a dazzling arc of light exploded from the long sword in his hand, slashing towards Loka not far away.

"Ah......h A horrible wound ran down his left eye and down to his chest.

Loka took two steps back and fell into the arms of the guards behind him. He covered his eyes with his palms, blood gushing from his fingers, a tidal wave of pain tearing at his nerves, and a high-pitched, hoarse roar like a demon from hell. "Kill, kill me, kill them all......" he ordered the Knights of the Rushing Riverwind with a frenzied wave of his arms.

For a while, with the addition of dozens of knights of the Rushing River Wind Knights, the entire royal hall was completely chaotic, and countless thick blood plasma spurted out in the air and fell to the ground, splashing a little bewitching blood flowers. Those courtiers who had been pampered in the past were shivering and hiding in the corners, staring blankly at the collision, tearing, and strangulation of weapons that shimmered with the luster of death in front of them, and at the bloody and purgatory-like battlefield in front of them.

This scene will forever be etched in their hearts, and it will become a nightmare that will never be forgotten and haunt them forever.

Sirian and Tandra struggled to slash, and along with their guards, the dozen or so men gathered tightly together, struggling to move in the direction of the gate of the King's Hall. The situation had become irreparably bad, and no one had any hope of survival, because even if they killed all the enemies surrounding the doorway, the pressure from the other side of the Imperial Guard would strangle them at the last moment.

Sovereign supported the dying Beorn on his shoulders, and his lower lip, which had already been bitten by his teeth, was bleeding bright red, and he could not predict how much misfortune and how long this gray day would be. At this time, he heard Beorn's vague words. "Live...... My brother...... Stay alive ......"

He saw the smile that Beorn had squeezed out, still bright. Then, with a sudden lightness on his shoulder, a figure rushed out, past Sirian, past Tandra, and towards the Imperial Guards who were gathered in front of him.

The sheer force knocked down a group of Praetorian guards, and then he stood up, the long sword in his hand wielding a dense golden sword light, bringing out a rain of blood, harvesting countless lives, this was the last power of Beorn.

The guards steadied their formation slightly, and dozens of spears pierced through the cracks in the human slits. The silvery-white cold glow passed silently, piercing Beorn's body, piercing the young life. Everyone was stunned, and Sovereign knelt feebly on the ground, looking at the burly, eternally radiating the warmth of the sun, tears blurred everything.

"Drink ......," Beorn roared, grabbing the spear with his left arm, twisting it with all his might, and with a series of explosions, the spears snapped. A brilliant flash of golden light flashed, and a rain of blood spread through the throats of the Imperial Guards, and several corpses fell weakly.

Beorn stood there, blood running down his shattered armor and on the ground, left in front of the Oak Throne. The Imperial Guards flinched in silence as they looked at the man who had burned all his life, the man who had burst out with untold power and looked at death as if he were at home. He deserves to be respected, and it's not right or wrong, it's just courage.

Beorn was exhausted, and his sword rested on the ground, supporting his already tattered body. "Ben, run the river...... Born ...... ......"He grinned and looked at Donis, who was hiding behind the Praetorian Guards.

Then the majestic figure fell, in a pool of blood, in the royal hall, for which he had devoted all his loyalty, to the symbol of the kingship of Orem.

"Beorn......" Cyrian and Tandra roared, their eyes red as if they were about to cry.

"Ahhh......h He wanted to snatch Beorn's body back, he wanted to take another look at the man who looked like a brother, the man who had been there for him at the last moment.

After a brief pause, the battle began again, more intense and more brutal than just now. Everyone saw in the blood their own standing and undying determination.

Sovereign grabbed Beorn's arm and held it back hard, red blood snaking across the floor of the King's Hall, as if composing a sad song of life. The young prince wielded his sword, and one after another rushed enemies fell at his feet, and the Imperial Guard was already red-eyed, and someone actually stabbed a spear into Soveland's neck.

This sudden scene frightened Donis's face to the ground. "Stop......" he shouted as he pulled away the guard guarding him. To him, even if Sirian and Tandra were killed on the spot, it was not a big deal. But the crown prince must not die here, as the designated heir to the throne, if Sovereign dies here, then there is basically no difference between Sounis's crime and murder. If this is the case, I am afraid that no vassal of the kingdom will swear allegiance to him in the future.

Donis's roar caught the attention of all the courtiers, and in an instant, their faces turned pale. The arrest of the traitor according to the king's will and the killing of the prince in full view of the public are two completely different things, the latter being the real treason.

"Ahh But the expected scene did not happen, and in front of Solveland, Doonis's only son, Paslin, rushed forward and stabbed the frenzied Imperial Guard in the chest with his sword.

After a moment of astonishment, Sirian rushed forward with his guards and fought with the resurgence of the Imperial Guards. Paislin kicked over the corpse on the longsword and grabbed Sovereign by the neckline. "Hell, what are you doing here?!" he snarled.

"I'm going to die here, am I going to be driven out of my palace like a rat by the traitors!" said Sovereign, pushing Peslin away.

Paislin angrily punched Soveran in the face, and the blow even ripped a hole open at the corner of Soveran's mouth. "Die here?! You idiot! You can only hope to live! Why did Beorn die here? Why are the people around you still fighting! Why!"

"I ......"

"Shut up!" Pesling interrupted him with a roar of rage, then grabbed Solweran's arm and rushed towards the door of the King's Hall.

With the addition of Paislin, the guards surrounding the gate were distracted for a moment. It would have been extremely difficult for these guards to control them without harming the crown prince, and now there is another Paislin. You know, Donis will soon become the regent with real power, and his son, Paislin, will also rise in status.

Do you want to attack Peslin? I'm afraid no one with a brain would do such a stupid thing. So, in the weak blocking of the guards, the two of them successfully broke out of the encirclement and ran out of the palace.

Donis, who witnessed this, went crazy, and he yelled angrily, "What are you doing there? Arrest the crown prince for me! immediately! immediately!"

The guards at the door were stunned when they heard this, but quickly came to their senses and chased them out.

At this moment, Sirian in the center of the hall let out a loud shout, releasing the power of order in his whole body, and in an instant, countless flying golden light shields circled around him and shot out in all directions. With the piercing sound of collision, the encirclement beside Duke Junhe suddenly loosened, and he rushed to the palace gate at an extremely fast speed, stopping the guards rushing to the gate with a sword.

"Tandra!" Cyrian shouted, straining his way to the guards who were swarming towards him.

Hearing Cyrian's voice, Tandra quickly approached. The congealed blood had formed a thick dark red on his black-gold armor, and his swarthy face was covered with blood and crystal sweat. He was tired, but the greatsword in his hand showed no signs of stopping. "What's wrong, old man!"

Sirian suddenly held his sword back, and a layer of dazzling golden runes rose up under his feet, converging into a huge light shield in front of his chest and pushing it out, and the pressure in front of him was relaxed. "Hurry up, get out of here!" he whispered.

Tandra froze, then angrily yelled, "Let me go, what the hell, what are you thinking?!" he roared as he pulled the greatsword out of a corpse's neck.

"Let's go now!" said Cilian resolutely, and the few remaining guards formed a simple defensive formation beside him, blocking the palace gate, "For Aiden and me, take care of Soveland!

Tandra's eyes were red, and he stubbornly stared at the most important friend in his life, and the left, the only friend. "No! never! If you want to die, you will die here! If you want to go, you will go together!"

"You must go! Tandra!" Sirian glared angrily, knowing full well that with Loca Toure's betrayal, all retreats were blocked. "Do you want me to die in front of you now?! I can't escape, and even if I do, they'll force me back with Catherine and Little Ronnie's lives, you know!"

"I ......"

"Tell Essaoweran that the real murderer of Aiden!" said Cyrian as he looked at his old friend, "Promise me!"

"Ahhh......h

The whistling sword wind shot out in all directions, blood and broken armor fragments splashed at the palace gate, and a fan-shaped clearing formed in the dense crowd, and the ground was covered with countless corpses. This was Tandra's stunt, and at this moment, the tower-like man turned around and rushed out of the Oak Palace.

Sirian smiled with relief, as if he had let go of all his burdens, he turned around, looked at the guards who had gathered up again in front of him, looked at Donis in the distance and said softly, "Come on, we are the only ones left." ”

The battle continued, and this small defensive formation was like a reef in the middle of a rapid, resisting wave after wave of attacks. Brilliant brilliance flowed freely at the palace gate of the King's Hall, taking away a few lives each time that tried to break through the barrier. These guards surrounded Cyrian, who had been fighting with the Duke of Junhe for decades, and from the moment they knelt before the sword and swore allegiance, they had put life and death out of their own. For them, the rushing river is their faith - majestic, mighty, just, and selfless.

"Rushing River...... "Every fallen guard repeats this sentence gently, to their loyal bloodline, to their beloved homeland.......

In the end, Keshan, the chief of the guard, also fell and fell into Sirian's arms. "Your Excellency...... I can't go with you on any more battles......" he said, "loyalty...... It's me forever...... Always loyal to you......" After saying that, he left this world with a smile.

Sirian wept, tears blurring his eyes. "Wait for me, brother, wait for me. ”

He wanted to see the guards who had always been by his side, and who were like brothers and sisters. He fended off the guards with one hand, and with the other he struggled to hold up one corpse after another of his own guards, and he wanted to take them with him, with everything they had given for him.

Duke Junhe retreated, and the arcade at the entrance to the King's Hall was strewn with the corpses of his guards. Eventually, Sirian retreated to the platform outside the Oak Palace, and behind him was the majestic Silver Oak City, which spread downward.

Another round of neat spear thrusts, Cillian was powerless to parry, several spears pierced into his chest, and with the contraction of the spearheads, he felt as if his life had been drained from his body.

Sirian fell to his knees, his flaxen hair stained with sweat and sticking to his forehead, his breathing heavy and unusually heavy, like a tattered old bellows. He propped up his crumbling body with his long sword, and looked up at the guards swarming out of the palace gate.

Donis walked up leisurely, stepping on the sticky, no longer visible blood of the color of the ground, with a victor's smile on his face. "Cyrian, surrender, as long as you surrender, I will keep your entire corpse, and even let you be buried in style. Of course, as the former prime minister and the Duke of Junhe, there is no sin of treason. ”

Sirian shook his head stiffly, blood pouring out of his mouth, dripping onto the ground and staining it bright red. He saw the guards passing by him, the ones who were about to hunt down Solviran and Tandra. He needs time, buy them more time.

Sirian looked up at the blue sky above him, without a trace of clouds, and his words had never been so reverent. "O Lord God...... O god of order in the highest heaven......" he knelt there, some thin figure holding a blood-stained sword, "if you could see all that was in the world, if you needed to find a preacher of faith in this world of human desire...... Lower your might, I am willing to give everything I have, even my life...... No complaints, no regrets......"

Suddenly, a soul-tearing thunder exploded in the clear sky, and a golden light comparable to the sun pierced straight down from the deep and distant sky, and the light of countless stars dragged a magnificent trail behind the golden light, as if the spear of the main god Somuel fell from the sky and hit Cilian hard.

The fierce energy, accompanied by the slightest light like a sword, suddenly exploded on the platform in front of the palace gate, and the soldiers around Sirian were knocked to the ground, and the power of order tore their armor and weapons to pieces.

When the crowd got up again, they saw the most sacred scene. In the dazzling golden light, Sirian knelt there with his long sword, and behind him, a pair of golden light wings fluttered. Majestic, holy, bright, this is the true grace of the Lord God, in a mortal, in a mortal with a great soul.

Everyone was stunned, staring at Sirian with blank eyes. In the silence, Donis scrambled to his feet, the blood on the ground messing up his fine robes, and his face changing with a myriad of complicated expressions—dazed, angry, shocked, etc., but at the last moment, only deep jealousy remained on his face. Suddenly, with his hands on the ground, he crawled and pounced on Sirian.

"Why! Why don't you want to be on my side even if you die! Why!" Donis grabbed Sirian's shoulder, shook it, and roared loudly.

Sirian's weak body was shaken, but a bright smile appeared. "Multi-...... Donis ...... Aiden has a ...... on him Merit...... You, you'll never have ......" he looked at the sky and smiled contentedly.

"Tell me!!" Donis screamed hysterically, on the verge of madness. It's a pity that no one will give him an answer to his question again.

The pair of wings of light flailed, fading more and more, and finally, shattered into golden specks of light, scattered in the air beside Sirian. He looked up at the blue sky, as if his eyes could cross the mountains and rivers, cross the distant distance, and bring him back to the land he had been absent for a long time.

There, golden waves of wheat rise and fall in the wind, innocent children chase and play, carefree windmills spin, and smoke rises from the setting sun. He seemed to see his beloved wife standing on the castle waiting for his return, as if he saw the child who had been worrying about him, running to him, cute and coquettish. In the end, he also saw the magnificent, endless great river.