CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER33-LEAVE OR DIE

"Aurek, are you truly going to drive us away? Do you understand what this decision means?"

The mercenaries spoke in unison, their voices filled with disbelief.

Aurek sat on the throne, his expression calm, his gaze steady as he looked upon the group. He did not raise his voice, nor did he show anger—only an indifferent detachment.

"If anyone wishes to stay," Aurek said slowly, each word carrying the weight of finality, "then when the empire rises again, I will not treat you poorly. You will be rewarded generously."

"But if you do not wish to stay, then be gone immediately. Do not linger here another moment."

His tone was strong, commanding, and even disdainful, as though these mercenaries were not even worth the effort of persuasion. He did not attempt to soften his words. He did not even bother to look at them twice.

What kind of joke was this?

There were twelve mercenaries in total, all of them so-called Expert Rank powerhouses. And yet, in Aurek’s eyes, they were no better than parasites. Month after month they had taken rich benefits and resources from the Crossbridge Empire, yet they had hardly lifted a finger to fight for it.

Keeping them here was nothing but a waste of precious supplies.

"Fine! You said it yourself!" one mercenary sneered, turning sharply. He addressed the others with a mocking smile.

"Everyone, you all heard it clearly. Since His Majesty has issued a decree to cast us out, then there is no reason for us to linger here. If the empire will no longer provide us resources, what purpose does it serve to remain?"

These words resonated with most of the mercenaries. After all, twelve Expert Rank warriors were indeed a formidable force no matter where they went. Countless smaller kingdoms and organizations across the land would gladly welcome them as protectors, paying them handsomely just to sit in residence.

Why should they stay in a collapsing empire?

Crossbridge Empire was trembling on the verge of collapse. Even outsiders could see the cracks widening by the day. These mercenaries were no fools; their sharp eyes had already discerned the looming fall. Why be dragged into the whirlpool?

They had thought they might stay a while longer, leech a few more benefits, but Aurek’s blunt dismissal made it clear—the time had come to leave.

Yet not everyone shared the same view.

One man, dressed in scholarly robes, spoke in a calm, measured voice. "His Majesty Aurek has his difficulties. I can understand that. And besides, I have received much from Crossbridge Empire. It is only right that I repay some of what I owe. It is time to contribute."

Another, a man gripping a longsword, shrugged with a placid expression. "I’m too lazy to move again. If you want to leave, then leave. I’ll stay here."

Aurek’s eyes flickered with mild surprise when he heard this. Two of them had chosen to remain. But the surprise quickly faded. It mattered little either way. If they stayed, he would not refuse their loyalty.

The remaining ten, however, did not hesitate. They turned at once, ready to walk out the doors without looking back.

Aurek said nothing to stop them. He watched their retreat in silence, his composure unbroken.

Such a scene, if witnessed elsewhere, would surely shock people to their core. Ten Expert Rank mercenaries—an entire company of them—being dismissed, cast out as if they were nothing? Any ruler would tremble to lose such strength.

But Aurek did not even blink.

Perhaps stung by pride, one mercenary stopped before leaving. He whirled around, his face twisted with anger, and shouted toward the throne.

"Aurek! Crossbridge Empire is doomed to destruction! Without us, there will be no one left to even collect your corpse. I swear, your end will be miserable!"

His words rang in the hall like a curse. Then he threw back his head and laughed, triumphant in his scorn, and turned again to leave.

But before he could take more than a step, a faint breeze stirred through the chamber. It was so slight, so subtle, that it might have been mistaken for nothing at all. And in that instant, a dagger pierced cleanly into his chest.

The man froze, his laughter cut short, and crumpled to the ground. Dead.

A mighty Expert Rank warrior—slain in an instant, without even a chance to resist.

The other nine mercenaries went rigid, their faces paling, expressions tense with shock. Even the two who had chosen to stay, the scholar and the swordsman, fixed their gazes on the doorway, their pupils shrinking.

None of them had seen what happened. None of them had caught the faintest glimpse of the killer. All they remembered was the faint brush of wind.

What kind of power was this?

In their minds surfaced ancient tales of ghosts and assassins, the kind that killed unseen, leaving no trace but death itself.

The death of their comrade brought an immediate change. The others, once arrogant, now stood frozen in silence. Their eyes turned back to the throne, and for the first time, they truly saw the emperor sitting there. That figure, slender and unassuming, suddenly seemed terrifying—ruthless, merciless, inhuman.

They recalled the annihilation of the Blackfish Gang, the destruction of Minister of War Nock and his entire household. They had dismissed those events as coincidences or the work of hidden assassins. But now, seeing it firsthand, they began to understand.

Could it be that all of this was the emperor’s own doing?

They had thought themselves the empire’s strongest card, the supreme force in Aurek’s hands. But reality struck like ice—they had been mistaken.

If the emperor possessed such power, what use were they?

Was Aurek planning to slaughter them all?

Uneasy thoughts rippled among the mercenaries, and their faces grew dark.

Then Aurek finally spoke again, his head lowered slightly, his voice calm and cold.

"If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. I will not force you to remain." His tone was steady, almost gentle, yet the air froze with each word.

"But if you dare to spout arrogance before me, do not blame me for what happens next."

"The man just now—his fate was the price for his insolence."

The mercenaries’ expressions turned grim.

"So," one spat bitterly, "we underestimated you after all."

"But even if you have such tricks, what does it matter? You cannot kill us all. You cannot hold us here forever."

Another sneered, his eyes flashing cold light. "Little emperor, aren’t you afraid for your own life? If you provoke us too far, you won’t live long enough to regret it."

He spoke with conviction. In his mind, the slain mercenary had simply been careless, too relaxed to defend himself. He would not make the same mistake. His spirit power sharpened, locking tightly onto Aurek, ready for the faintest movement.

Sensing danger, the scholar and the swordsman who had chosen to stay moved closer, placing themselves protectively before Aurek. Their faces were grim as they watched the others. The tension between the two sides thickened, sharp as blades.

But Aurek seemed utterly unconcerned.

He lifted his eyes briefly, his gaze sweeping across the nine remaining mercenaries. His tone was light, almost dismissive, when he gave his command.

"Since you refuse to leave... then kill them all."

To him, they were nothing but Expert Rank warriors. Did they think themselves mighty? Before him, they were nothing.

A cold smile tugged at the corners of Aurek’s lips.

At his signal, the Elemental Assassins hidden in the shadows stirred to life. Invisible blades slipped silently through the air.

The nine mercenaries, alarmed, instantly unleashed every skill and technique they possessed. Energy surged, skills flared. But for all their efforts, they could not sense a single trace of the assassins.

Frustration turned to desperation. At last they focused their mental power entirely on Aurek himself. If they could restrain him, force him into their hands, then everything else would crumble.

Nine Expert Rank fighters striking together—how could one emperor withstand them? As long as they captured him, all problems would vanish.

So they lunged, nine figures bursting with violent energy, converging on Aurek like a tidal wave.

The hall shook with their combined might, their intent clear: to seize control, to crush the emperor with overwhelming force.

But before their attack could even fully land, blood spattered across the floor.

One mercenary, on the outer edge of the charge, had his head severed cleanly from his shoulders. It rolled across the stone, leaving a trail of red.

Gasps filled the chamber.

And before half a second passed, another head flew high into the air, the second mercenary falling lifeless to the ground.

The silent assassins had struck again, swift and merciless.

And the massacre was only beginning.