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SWISH!
Jacaerys seized the moment when the Faceless Man was briefly stunned after his attack proved ineffective, attempting to thrust the short dagger in his right hand straight into the opponent's chest.
However, the Faceless Man reacted with astonishing speed. He immediately raised his left hand and firmly caught Jacaerys' wrist mid-strike.
DRIP! DRIP!
The razor-sharp tip of the short dagger managed to pierce about one centimeter into the Faceless Man's chest. A small trickle of blood oozed from the wound and dripped onto the ground.
But that was all.
The strength of the Faceless Man's left hand completely matched the power of Jacaerys' right arm, rendering the blade unable to penetrate any further.
This result was to be expected.
After all, Jacaerys was merely a boy who had not yet reached his fourteenth nameday. His body was still growing, his strength still developing.
In contrast, although the true age and appearance of the Faceless Man remained unknown, judging by his sheer physical power, he was undoubtedly a fully grown adult.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The Faceless Man's right hand, wielding a dagger, began striking Jacaerys' body repeatedly and with force.
He assumed that his previous strike had failed because Jacaerys was wearing armor beneath his clothes. Now he was frantically searching for a vulnerable spot, a patch of unprotected flesh.
Yet, the strength of one hand alone was insufficient.
Without hesitation, Jacaerys threw his left hand over his right, bracing the back of his own hand with all his might.
THUD!
Gathering every ounce of strength within his young body, he pushed the short dagger deeper into the Faceless Man's chest, gaining another centimeter.
The Faceless Man, who had stabbed Jacaerys over a dozen times without finding a single weakness, immediately understood the peril of the situation.
He made a swift decision—to save his own life first.
SMACK!
Abandoning the dagger in his right hand, the Faceless Man grasped Jacaerys' blade with both hands.
The difference in strength between a fully grown adult and a youth was instantly revealed once again.
Not only was Jacaerys unable to push the dagger any deeper, but the Faceless Man also began to slowly pry the blade back out of his chest.
TAP, TAP, TAP!
At that critical moment, three guards who had enhanced their strength through the consumption of stimulants charged forward and surrounded Jacaerys from behind.
CLANG!
The foremost guard raised his longsword high and swung it down fiercely at Jacaerys' unprotected back.
These guards possessed strength far beyond that of ordinary men. Had it been a direct thrust, they surely would have broken through his defenses.
However, the power of a slashing blow was more dispersed. Underneath Jacaerys' clothing, a fleeting shimmer of draconic scales appeared and vanished, blocking the attack.
The heavy strike failed to inflict real harm, but the sheer force of the blow still pushed Jacaerys slightly forward.
THUD!
The short dagger, which was on the verge of being wrenched out by the Faceless Man, was driven back into the man's chest by another full centimeter.
Startled by this unexpected turn of events, Jacaerys froze for a moment. Then, noticing the Faceless Man's sudden change of expression, he smiled faintly and let out a loud, pained scream.
"Ahh!~~"
The three guards behind him could not see what was happening in front.
Upon hearing the target's anguished cry, they grew even more excited and began hacking away madly with their swords.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
At this moment, Jacaerys was like a steel nail driven into wood, and the three guards were the hammers pounding it in.
The more furiously they struck, the deeper the dagger embedded itself.
As the blade sank past halfway into the Faceless Man's chest, a large gush of blood spilled from the man's lips.
Soon after, Jacaerys felt the resistance on his hands vanish. The short dagger slipped free and buried itself completely into the man's body.
Compared to the fierce battle unfolding on the grandstand, the conflict in the Magister's Plaza was much simpler in form yet no less intense.
Within the wide-open plaza, nearly sixteen hundred slave soldiers had flooded in.
They knew full well that the crude bows and arrows in their hands could not harm the dark green dragon. Yet they continued to nock arrows and loose volleys without pause.
They were determined to sacrifice their own lives to delay the dragon's advance.
ROOOOOAAAAR!!!
From the wide-open jaws of Vermax, a torrent of black-gray dragonfire burst forth.
The dozen or so slave soldiers directly struck by the flames were instantly reduced to blackened skeletons.
Within the range of the dragonfire's searing breath, dozens more were singed by the black-gray flames.
One slave soldier had only a thin thread of dragonfire, no thicker than a pinky finger, brush across his left side.
Yet the burning pain of his flesh made him scream in agony and collapse onto the ground, where he rolled wildly in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire.
However, no matter how fiercely he writhed and struggled, the tiny flame clinging stubbornly to his body refused to die out.
Several minutes passed before his body finally grew still.
From a side view, one could see that both the left and right sides of his waist now bore two charred, gaping holes.
Within those holes, all muscle, fat, and internal organs had been completely melted away.
This made it clear that regardless of how much or how little black-gray dragonfire touched them, ordinary people were doomed to die once ignited.
Vermax's flames had already acquired the terrifying devouring property that was characteristic of the Cannibal dragon's fire.
Even so, the slave soldiers showed no signs of retreat or fear.
Instead, their battle cries rose to a fever pitch as they launched a reckless and desperate charge toward Vermax.
Clearly, Moser and the other magisters of Myr had thoroughly brainwashed these men beforehand, using threats to their families, promises of vast rewards, and shameless lies to cloud their minds.
This was exactly the effect Jacaerys had wanted.
By creating such circumstances, he could harvest trait points far more efficiently and in greater quantity than he had before with the Tyroshi.
SWISH!
Meanwhile, on the grandstand, Jacaerys grabbed the last surviving Myrish magister and dragged him in front of him to use as a human shield.
However, before he could fully take advantage of this, one of the drugged guards caught up to him and cleaved the unfortunate man cleanly in two with a single powerful strike.
Seeing this, Jacaerys immediately cast aside the now useless half-corpse and fled in disarray.
If not for the defensive and flame-resistant traits granted by his status panel, his physical strength alone would have been no different from that of an ordinary adult.
In a head-to-head clash, he stood no chance against these frenzied guards.
After all, even the elite personal guards of House Velaryon could barely withstand the onslaught of these monstrous foes.
Fortunately, there was a price to be paid for their unnatural burst of strength.
Jacaerys noticed that the three guards pursuing him had begun to bleed from their eyes, noses, ears, and mouths.
It was evident that they would not last much longer.
Alas, their time was running out.
Why had Stone and the others still not arrived?
Casting a sidelong glance at the relentless guards behind him, Jacaerys turned and fled toward the direction where Lord Corlys was fighting.
The situation on Lord Corlys' side was even more grim and desperate.
Of all his men, only one severely wounded bodyguard remained standing at his side.
Yet, thanks to the self-sacrifice of three fearless warriors, they had managed to slay two of the drug-enhanced guards.
As Lord Corlys focused entirely on the brutal combat before him, he caught sight of Jacaerys rushing toward him from the corner of his eye. Realizing that Jacaerys was recklessly drawing the enemies toward them, his face darkened instantly, and he shouted sternly in a sharp voice,
"Jacaerys, what do you think you are doing? Stay away from here! Once we have slain this last beast, we shall come to your aid at once!"
However, Jacaerys paid no heed to Lord Corlys' reprimand. Without the slightest hesitation, he rushed swiftly to their side.
The sudden arrival of three drug-enhanced guards immediately shattered the fragile balance of power on the battlefield.
Protected by the "Iron-Walled Strategist" trait, Jacaerys possessed an astonishing defense. Even when struck by sharp swords, he remained unflinching, almost as if invulnerable.
Yet Lord Corlys and the lone surviving bodyguard were not so fortunate.
Almost in the blink of an eye, Lord Corlys, who wielded a heavy double-bladed battle axe, was struck by a fierce blow and sent flying through the air. As for the last bodyguard, he suffered an even more tragic fate.
Surrounded by the crazed drugged guards, he was slashed repeatedly by their swords until his body was hacked into four or five grotesque pieces.
Suddenly, with a sharp swoosh, a massive dark green dragon tail descended from above.
With a thunderous crash, the four drug-enhanced guards, who under normal circumstances would have been nearly invincible among ordinary men, were mercilessly slammed into the wooden floor of the grandstand by the crushing force of the dragon's tail, leaving deep and splintered craters in the floorboards.
Jacaerys calmly turned around and walked toward Lord Corlys, who lay on the ground vomiting blood. He knelt down beside him, his voice low and almost gentle as he spoke, "Corlys Velaryon, even if you choose not to support me, you should not have gone behind my back to make contact with Baelor. There is nothing I despise more than betrayal."
Lord Corlys coughed weakly, blood staining his lips, yet a mocking smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. In a hoarse voice, he retorted, "You killed Vaemond. That was kin-slaying. The Seven Gods, no, all the gods in the heavens, shall scorn you. They shall curse you for eternity."
Jacaerys' expression remained calm, only a faint trace of sorrow flashing through his eyes. He replied quietly, "Indeed, in this world, kin-slaying is a crime reviled by both gods and men. However... there is no drop of Velaryon blood flowing through my veins."
Upon hearing these words, Lord Corlys immediately understood. His heart sank into a pit of despair. He realized that today, there would be no chance of escape.
Shaking all over, Lord Corlys struggled to stand. His body, riddled with wounds, could barely hold itself upright. Gathering all his remaining strength, he pleaded earnestly, "As for Vaemond's death, I have not spoken of it to anyone. Baela will still marry you. Lucerys shall become the next Lord of the Tides. I beg you, show mercy. Spare the Velaryon family."
Before Jacaerys could reply, a loud cracking sound rang out.
From the hole smashed into the wooden floor earlier, one of the drug-enhanced guards crawled back out, his body bloodied but his movements still menacing.
At the same moment, a flurry of hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance of the grandstand.
"I agree to your request," Jacaerys said softly.
The moment the words left his mouth, he pushed the frail Lord Corlys toward the approaching drugged guard.
With a sickening squelch, the guard's sword pierced cleanly through Lord Corlys' chest, lifting him high into the air as blood splattered across the broken floor.
"No! Grandfather, nooo!!!"
Jacaerys, who had long prepared himself for this moment, let out a heart-wrenching roar, filled with grief and rage. His cry echoed across the hall, like the wail of a wounded beast.
"Your Grace!"
"Lord Corlys!"
At that moment, Stone, Leon, and Colemon, along with others, burst through the entrance of the Grandstand. Their faces were filled with shock and horror at the scene before them.
In the air, suspended upon the guard's sword, Lord Corlys, with the last flicker of life in his eyes, turned his bloodstained face toward Leon. Using all the strength he could muster, he cried out, "Obey... Jace's orders!"
As the final word left his lips, Lord Corlys' head drooped to the side. His body went limp, and his life faded away completely.
A devastating grief spread across Jacaerys' face. Tears filled his eyes as he turned to Stone and the others, his voice booming with sorrow and fury. "For my grandfather! For House Velaryon! Slay these treacherous and despicable men of Myr! Leave none alive!"
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[Chapter End's]
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