boyutpedia Chapter 412 King Nathan Appears
Chapter 412 King Nathan Appears
A woman's voice, sharp and urgent, rang out from inside the hall. Immediately afterward, a woman clad in light silver armor rushed out, wielding a slender rapier in each hand, crossing them to block Alfonso. Her armor was splattered with blood, but her movements remained agile. Her swords drew two silver arcs in front of her, deflecting two incoming bullets with a clang and forcing back two soldiers who attempted to advance.
"Elena...you must leave..." Alfonso's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping against rust, each word carrying the metallic taste of blood rising from deep within his throat, "Take the King away...we can't hold this place anymore..."
"I'm not leaving!" Elena didn't turn back, her twin swords held horizontally before her chest, their tips trembling slightly. Her gaze was fixed on the endless stream of Behemoth soldiers surging towards her. "We'll die together!"
"Fool..." Alfonso gave a bitter laugh, a thin line of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth.
Then, gritting his teeth, he braced himself against the sword hilt with both hands and forced himself to his feet. Suddenly, the dense cracks on his golden armor simultaneously glowed faintly, as if something was burning inside. The light seeped through the cracks, growing brighter and hotter, enveloping him in a soft yet intense golden radiance.
He slowly raised the greatsword. The tip pointed to the sky. A dazzling sphere of light began to condense on the shattered blade, growing larger and larger, expanding from the size of a fist to the size of a human head, radiating a chilling sense of oppression. The surrounding air was scorched and distorted, and spiderweb-like cracks began to appear on the stone floor centered on him. Tiny pebbles were lifted into the air by an invisible energy field, suspended in mid-air, and then fell with a soft rustling.
"Light Technique: Light of the End!"
He roared, the sound exploding in his chest, carrying a resolute determination to destroy everything. The greatsword, carrying the ball of light, slammed down heavily onto the stone steps!
The sphere of light exploded upon impact with the ground, transforming into a blinding beam of light several meters in diameter that swept across the entire plaza! The light was so bright that everyone had to close their eyes and turn their heads to the side; even dozens of meters away, everything outside their eyelids was a scorching white. Wherever the beam of light passed, Behemoth's soldiers didn't even have time to scream before they were reduced to ashes in the light. Weapons melted, armor evaporated, and gun barrels bent and collapsed like candles, leaving only charred marks on the stone pavement.
The beam of light lasted for about three breaths before suddenly going out.
The square was deathly silent.
The besieging Behemoth soldiers had all vanished, leaving only ashes and molten metal slag. The air was thick with the smell of burning, like rust and coke mixed together.
Alfonso swayed. His greatsword shattered into more than ten pieces with a crack, scattering them across the ground with a clatter. The light on his golden armor quickly dimmed, cracks spread rapidly, and the entire suit of armor peeled away piece by piece like dried bark from an old tree. His face was deathly pale, almost translucent, his lips bluish-purple, his pupils dilated, and his body leaned forward as if all the bones had been removed.
"Afonso!" Elena dropped her twin swords and rushed over, supporting his shoulders with both hands and gently laying him down on the stone steps. Her fingers trembled as she felt for his pulse on the side of his neck; the pulse she touched was as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, as if it might go out at any moment.
Alfonso gave a weak smile, blood trickling from his mouth down his chin and into his neck: "I...I'm fine...just...a little tired..."
His gaze passed over Elena's shoulder, looking into the shadows deep within the hall, his lips moving slightly as if he wanted to give some last words.
Just then, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows of the side gate of the palace.
He was a middle-aged man in a black trench coat, tall and slender, wearing gold-rimmed glasses whose lenses reflected two orange spots in the firelight. He looked refined, like a university professor teaching classics; his right hand even held a thin book, his thumb between a page. But in his left hand, he gripped a silver pistol. The gun was long and slender, with a silencer screwed onto the muzzle, its surface matte.
"Elijah!" Elena was startled when she saw the newcomer, then her eyes lit up with surprise. "You've come! Come quickly and help, Alfonso, he..."
Her words caught in her throat halfway through.
Because she saw Elijah raise his arm and point the muzzle of the silver pistol at Alfonso's forehead.
"Elijah... what are you doing?!" Elena's face drained of all color in an instant.
Elijah did not answer. His expression was calm to the point of being indifferent, his eyes behind his glasses were devoid of any emotion, and his index finger steadily pulled the trigger.
boom.
A muffled gunshot rang out.
Alfonso's body jolted violently, a fist-sized hole exploding in his chest where he had been shot. The wound was so deep it was almost transparent, and scalding blood gushed from it, splashing onto Elena's silver light armor and trickling down the seams. Alfonso's pupils contracted sharply for a moment, then slowly dilated. His mouth was slightly open, disbelief lingering in his eyes. His lips moved, but only blood and foam escaped.
"Elijah...you..." Alfonso's voice was so low it was almost inaudible.
"I'm sorry, Alfonso." Elijah slowly lowered the muzzle of his gun, his voice cold and calm, "but I have to do it."
"Why?!" Elena screamed, lunging at Alfonso, her hands pressed desperately against the bloody hole in his chest, but blood gushed from between her fingers, impossible to stop. Her tears splattered onto Alfonso's tattered armor, leaving dark, damp stains. "Why did you betray us?!"
"Betrayal?" Elijah pushed up his glasses, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "I've never been loyal, so how could I be a betrayer?"
He stepped forward, his black leather shoes crunching softly on the ashes and bloodstains of the stone pavement. He stopped three steps away from Elena, looking down at the dying Alfonso and the tearful Elena.
"I joined the Nine Guards for this day."
"You...you're one of Behemoth's people?!" Elena asked through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with sobs.
"Behemoth?" Elijah shook his head, a hint of disdain in his eyes. "No. I am the Goldfinch."
Elena's pupils shrank to pinpoints: "The Golden Branch Breaker?! Qu Tong sent you?!"
“That’s right.” Elijah nodded. “My mission is simple: destroy Nathan’s palace, kill King Nathan, and destroy the Tree of God.”
"Why?!" Elena screamed, her voice hoarse and almost torn apart. "The King has treated you well! The Nine Guards have shared life and death with you for so many years! Why do you want to destroy all of that?!"
Elijah was silent for a moment, his gaze slowly sweeping over the pool of blood and corpses in the square, over the blown-up palace gate and the devastated steps, and finally landing on Elena's face.
"Because the system on Nathan Island is corrupt." His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling coldness. "The Divine Tree isn't a sacred object at all; it's a giant altar of living people. It uses the lives of the Others as fuel to maintain the island's so-called 'independence' and 'freedom.' Elena, think about it—those sacrificed to the Divine Tree, which one of them didn't have family, friends, or something they wanted to protect? Why should they sacrifice themselves for the island's survival?"
Elena opened her mouth, her lips trembling, but she couldn't utter a single word. Her hand was still pressed against the bloody hole in Alfonso's chest, the warmth of his body beneath her palm slowly fading.
"Nathan Island needs a fresh start." Elijah raised his pistol again, the muzzle pointed at Elena's forehead. "And that start begins today."
His index finger began to tighten.
Just then, a sharp gust of wind swept in from the side!
Elijah's expression changed drastically. He twisted his wrist sharply, turned the gun around, and took three steps back. The gust of wind from the leg grazed the front of his trench coat, the force exploding in the air with a muffled thud. The fabric on his chest was pressed into several deep wrinkles by the airflow, and his gold-rimmed glasses tilted slightly.
"Who?!" he shouted sharply, his gaze sweeping sharply to the side.
"You son of a bitch!"
Zhang Chulan leaped out from behind the broken wall, his body crackling with blue and white lightning arcs, his fists wrapped in leaping electric currents. The moment he landed, he slammed his foot down, sending debris flying like bullets, transforming into a zigzagging bolt of lightning that hurtled straight at Elijah's face!
Elijah's eyes narrowed, and he dodged the punch. Lightning grazed past his ear, and the air crackled with a pungent, burning smell. He took a half step back and raised his gun, a silver bullet trailing a thin white line as it hurtled toward Zhang Chulan's shoulder.
Ding!
A cold light flashed from the side, and Feng Baobao had appeared half a step to Zhang Chulan's side without anyone noticing. The gleaming kitchen knife in her hand slashed down diagonally, precisely splitting the bullet in two. The two halves of the bullet grazed the hem of Zhang Chulan and Feng Baobao's clothes and entered the stone wall behind them, embedding themselves in the stone surface and leaving two shallow white marks.
"Sister Bao'er!" Zhang Chulan grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes. "I knew you were reliable!"
At the same time, Nie Lingfeng had silently appeared three meters behind Elijah. He was slightly bent over, his left hand on the ground, the energy gathered at his fingertips drawing a thin line on the ground. Chen Duo leaped onto a higher step, her ten fingers spread wide, dozens of Gu worms swirling above her head in a buzzing ring, ready to pounce at any moment. Wang Zhenqiu's three-section staff unfurled into a long chain, the ends humming and vibrating. Zhang Lingyu's palms were covered with a layer of translucent frost, ice crystals clinging to her fingertips. Lu Linglong and Lu Lin blocked the flanks from the left and right, their swords drawn and fans unfurled. Baron stood in front of Ruan Feng, a short blade held horizontally, his eyes locked on Elijah's every subtle movement.
Elijah glanced around, finding himself locked onto by eight men simultaneously, yet his face showed no sign of panic. He even chuckled softly, calmly holstering his silver pistol back into its side pocket, and then straightening his askew gold-rimmed glasses.
"Interesting." His gaze swept across everyone's faces, finally settling on Nie Lingfeng. "It seems today's show is even more exciting than I expected. Are you from the company? Or just casual patrons from some underworld?"
Nie Lingfeng said indifferently, "Just passing by. I don't like the look of you."
"Heh." Elijah chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "You must be Nie Lingfeng, right? I've heard about the underground base in Northeast China. Someone who could cause such a commotion there and escape unscathed is someone I should remember."
"It's an honor," Nie Lingfeng replied without changing his expression.
"However—" Elijah raised his hand, pointing to the shadows deep within the palace hall, "I'm not the main character today. It's that one over there."
His voice echoed across the square: "King Nathan, how long are you going to hide?"
All eyes turned in unison to the depths of the main hall, following the direction of his finger.
The heavy palace doors slowly slid inward, the hinges creaking loudly, like a giant beast that had slumbered for many years finally opening its eyes. Deep within the hall, two rows of candles lit up one after another, their warm yellow light advancing along the central stone path, illuminating the dark red carpeted corridor.
A figure walked out step by step along the passageway.
He was a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his forties, wearing a simple white robe that trailed on the stone steps without being stained by a speck of dust. He wasn't particularly tall, but his shoulders and back were straight and upright, like a green bamboo planted in a crack in the stone. His face was thin, with slightly high cheekbones, and beneath his brows were a pair of deep, almost bottomless eyes. There was no anger or panic in those eyes, only an unfathomable calm, like the surface of a frozen lake in the depths of winter.
His long hair was tied back with a simple wooden hairpin, and he wore no elaborate adornments—no golden crown, no jade pendant, no scepter. He walked out in the simplest white robe, yet he naturally exuded an aura that made everyone's breath catch in their throats. It was as if he had entered not a ravaged palace, but his own courtyard; as if he were facing not a fully armed enemy, but a normal court assembly.
King Nathan.
The ruler of Nathan Island, the guardian of the sacred tree.
He finally showed up.