Princess Irena

"Originally, the plan was to blow up the bridge and block the road to force you to change your route before ambushing you, but it seems we miscalculated," the gaunt man said, twirling his dagger with a playful tone. "But it doesn’t matter. We of the [Shadow Thorns] have many methods."

Torres strained with all his might to control his body, yet no matter how hard he struggled, his limbs refused to obey, as if they were no longer his own. Worse still, he could feel his throat failing—his words came out hoarse and broken.

"You... you know exactly who is inside that carriage!"

The taller of the two men merely smiled. "We are here under the king’s orders to deal with the princess, who has been corrupted by an evil entity."

"Nonsense! Princess Irena is no monster! It’s them—it’s them who—!" Torres gasped for air, his consciousness slipping away.

His eyes darted around—the other adventurers had already collapsed, and those who had been asleep showed no signs of waking. Clearly, these two assassins had waited until everyone was incapacitated before revealing themselves.

With one last shred of hope, Torres glanced toward Ye Chuan, only to find him still motionless, eyes shut.

He’s been affected too.

A wave of despair washed over Torres.

"To think even the infamous [Shadow Thorns] would be sent after us," he muttered bitterly, his gaze flickering toward the carriage. He could only pray that whoever was inside might escape.

But deep down, he knew it was impossible.

He couldn’t imagine anyone who could save them now.

"Ying, kill him," the gaunt man said coldly. "No more delays."

"Understood." The one called Ying stepped forward, dagger gleaming. But just as he was about to strike, a sharp voice cut through the night.

"Stop!"

Ying paused, turning in surprise toward the carriage—

The curtain was pulled aside, and a young woman in a flowing dress stepped out. She bit her lip lightly as she removed her hood.

Under the moonlight, her silver-white hair cascaded down like a shower of starlight.

Her emerald-green eyes, sharp as gemstones, glowed faintly, and her pointed ears marked her with an otherworldly grace. Her skin was pale as snow, her features flawless.

"Spare Torres," she said, clutching a glowing pendant at her chest—its faint light shielding her from the paralyzing mist. "I, Irena Hill, Ninth Princess of the Empire, will return with you."

"Princess Irena," Ying chuckled, spinning his dagger lazily. "You seem to misunderstand your position."

A flash of steel—

Torres screamed as his ear was sliced clean off, hitting the ground with a wet thud.

"Torres!" Irena cried, her voice trembling with fury. "If I die, the king will never obtain what he seeks!"

"Princess, you are the one who misunderstands," Ying said, his smile turning cruel. "Our orders were to eliminate you, not bring you back. In other words..."

"Your fate as a monster ends here," Ying's companion, Ying, added flatly.

Irena's face paled further, her body shaking with rage. "What a despicable lie!"

"Run... Your Highness..." Torres rasped, his voice now barely audible.

A sickening thud—

The dagger plunged into Torres' chest, and he collapsed to the ground.

"Torres!"

Ying yanked the blade free, then turned his gaze to Irena. "Princess, do you really think you can escape us? With your skills, you wouldn’t even survive the beasts lurking beyond these woods."

"A dead end," Ying agreed coldly.

Ying strode toward Irena—but suddenly, a hand clamped around his ankle.

Looking down, he saw Torres, bloodied and barely conscious, gripping him with the last of his strength.

"Don’t... touch her..." Torres growled through clenched teeth.

"Still clinging to life?" Ying smirked, impressed despite himself. "Truly the son of the Knight Commander of Reinhardt. You look just like him when he died—pathetic."

With a flick of his wrist, Ying drove his dagger into the back of Torres' hand. Blood sprayed.

"Enough games." Ying wrenched the blade free, then kicked Torres hard—sending him crashing into a tree with a bone-shattering impact.

Torres coughed up blood, his body limp.

"NO!" Irena screamed, but an invisible force held her in place. Tears streaked her face as she thrashed helplessly.

"Let’s finish this," Ying said, bored now—though his eyes lingered on Irena’s beauty. He glanced at his brother. "Ying, mind if I have some fun first?"

"Try it, and I’ll slit your throat mid-act," Ying replied icily.

Ying shrugged, then hurled his dagger at Irena with lethal precision.

"Farewell, Princess Irena."

The blade cut through the air like a shadow—

Irena shut her eyes, bracing for the end.

But no pain came.

Confused, she opened her eyes—only to see the dagger hovering inches from her face before clattering harmlessly to the ground.

She looked up.

Ying and Ying were no longer smirking. Their faces had gone rigid with shock.

"Who’s there?!"

"Didn’t miss much while I was logged out, huh?" A lazy voice drawled.

From the shadows of a nearby tree, a figure stretched and yawned.

Ye Chuan glanced around, then locked eyes with the assassins.

"Oh. An assassination attempt. Cute."

"Sir Ye Chuan..." Torres groaned weakly from the ground. "Please..."

"Ye Chuan, look out!" Irena cried.

Before she could finish, Ying and Ying lunged—their daggers aimed straight for Ye Chuan’s throat.

No hesitation. No mercy.

Clang!

A metallic ring echoed through the night.

The assassins froze.

Ye Chuan had blocked both blades—with his bare arm.

And why did it sound like steel?

Ye Chuan smirked as golden lines traced across his skin. Light erupted around him—

[Armor Fusion Complete.]