Chapter 537: Coming Uninvited

“Damn it, those bastards actually buried bombs right on the main road. Even madness should have limits. Can’t they learn from me and be a law-abiding, friendly citizen for once?”

Feeling the roar and shudder from outside the carriage, Muen couldn’t help but shout in anger.

Beside him, Albert’s cheek twitched at those words. Inwardly, he thought, You, a gang boss, actually have the nerve to say the words ‘law-abiding’?

Unfortunately, now was not the time for snark. The carriage was shaking far too violently, and Albert’s frail body could only avoid a truly miserable fall by bracing hard against the carriage wall with Lavini’s help.

Fortunately, what Muen had prepared this time was not an ordinary carriage.

At the very instant the explosion went off, intricate magic patterns emerged on the pitch-black exterior. The enormous power already infused into it rushed along predetermined lines. A powerful defensive spell formation was triggered almost simultaneously with the explosion, blocking most of the blast’s damage.

“Don’t stop—keep charging forward!”

Muen urged the driver in front.

“Hyah!”

The driver snapped the reins hard. Under the light of the explosion’s flames, the horses pulling the carriage revealed scales with a metallic sheen—proof of their extraordinary bloodline. Even amidst such violent explosions, they remained calm and unpanicked.

The carriage continued to surge forward at high speed, and explosions kept going off behind and around them.

In the jolting chaos, Muen steadied himself and turned a gaze, tinged with anger, toward Albert beside him.

“This is a premeditated ambush. Our route wasn’t discovered on the fly—it was leaked ahead of time. Your Highness, are you sure there weren’t any slipups on your side?”

“Very few people on our side knew the plan. How could there possibly be a leak?”

Albert frowned.

“If anything, it’s your side I’d worry about... the carriage and the route were both arranged by you.”

“Your Highness is suspecting me?”

“No... if you wanted to kill me, it would be far too easy. You could have made a move on the river earlier without anyone ever knowing. There’d be no need for something this complicated.”

Albert clenched his teeth.

“What I ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) mean is, your side is too complicated personnel-wise. It’s very possible the other side has already infiltrated you. Especially those underground gangs under your command—those people are a chaotic mix. Who knows who they’re really loyal to?”

“I’m not stupid enough to let little gang lackeys know my plan in that kind of detail... but fine. There is a chance of a leak on my side, and now’s not the time to argue about it.”

Muen’s gaze swept over the Crown Prince, then over Lavini at his side, who looked properly panicked. In the end, he didn’t linger on the subject, and shifted his attention back to the attack outside the carriage.

After the flare of the flames, he could occasionally make out silhouettes moving. Muen could sense that those people weren’t particularly strong. Otherwise, in this kind of chaotic situation, it should have been a perfect chance to launch an attack.

After all, explosions of this level shouldn’t be enough to hinder a powerful enemy from acting.

Were they Lower District gangs?

And these explosions—though they looked frightening, rather than an attempt to kill them outright, they felt more like a way to delay their progress and, through that, completely expose their position.

Looked at that way... it wasn’t necessarily a matter of leaked information. The other side might actually be crazy enough to plant blocking explosives at every must-pass intersection leading to the destination!

If that were the case, then even if they changed routes on the spot, it would be impossible to shake off the enemy’s pursuit. On the contrary, they’d be forced to detour farther and farther and pile on more risk!

Albert seemed to realize this as well. His expression turned grim as he asked:

“What do we do? It seems like we don’t have a way to shake them anymore.”

“Hold on tight.”

Muen didn’t even turn his head as he pulled a small bronze whistle from who-knew-where and suddenly blew it.

The shrill, piercing note cut through the carriage at once, echoing above the now-boiling nighttime streets.

Someone in the darkness lifted their head, eyes tracking the direction the whistle’s sound traveled toward, but they had no idea what it meant.

Before long, another whistle sounded in the distance, as if in reply.

Muen put away the bronze whistle, stared straight ahead, and said coldly:

“Your Highness just needs to make sure you come out with nothing worse than a few bumps and bruises. The rest... leave it to the professionals.”

......

“It’s a message from Mister Bruce!”

Rat King Sam lowered the bronze whistle in his hand and looked at the figures below. A feral grin split his ugly face.

“Boys, your chance to show off is here!”

Shhh, shhh, shhh, shhh...

From behind him came a sound the Rat King had hardly ever heard in his life: the rustle of light armor.

On rooftops, in the shadows of balconies, in hidden treetops, and at every vantage point overlooking the street the carriage was racing down, fully armed thugs stepped out of the darkness with equally excited faces.

They wore standard-issue light armor that gleamed with a cold light. In their hands were the latest military repeating crossbows, and several round alchemical grenades hung from their belts. Their gear was so luxurious that if the city guard showed up, their legs would probably go weak with fright.

The excitement in their eyes came precisely from this.

From never having fought such a well-funded battle.jpg.

Naturally, they were going to enjoy themselves to the fullest.

“Listen for my command.”

At the Rat King’s order, these specially trained, most elite of thugs raised their repeating crossbows in unison, taking aim at the figures moving in the dark.

“Fire!”

“Whoosh—”

Pfft.

Pfft.

Pfft.

After the sharp hiss of bolts cutting through the air came the sound of flesh being pierced in an instant.

Those crouched in the shadows below were also vicious men unafraid of death. Among them were quite a few who had clawed their way up through blood and fire, men who counted as local powerhouses in the Lower District.

But in the face of these cold crossbow bolts, their lives were harvested just as evenly.

Blood mixed with flame, sketching the first outlines of a scene like hell itself.

Even their shrill screams couldn’t stir up much of a wave, for those sounds were quickly drowned out by the roar of continuing explosions.

“What a lovely sight.”

The Rat King looked down, the scene reflected in his eyes, a satisfied smile on his face.

For all the years he’d been struggling in the Lower District, which of their gang fights hadn’t been with their heads tied to their belts, gambling their lives?

But this kind of easy fight—a near-slaughter—this was the first time he’d ever experienced one.

He couldn’t help but feel grateful that choosing to follow that Mister Bruce had been the best decision of his entire life.

“Clean up the enemy. Then, according to the original plan, escort that carriage.”

“Don’t worry, Lord Rat King. With toys like these, even the beauties who go several rounds with me at night are easier to handle than this lot,” one of his men joked.

“Don’t get careless. This isn’t—”

The Rat King was in the middle of giving orders when, in the instant he turned his head, the corner of his eye caught a flash of cold light in the shadows not far away.

That familiar feeling made his hair stand on end. The Rat King almost reflexively shouted:

“Careful!”

At the same time, he reacted with lightning speed, ducking down behind the large shield his trusted lieutenant had raised at his side.

Pfft.

Again came the sound of a sharp object puncturing flesh—but this time, it was so close.

The Rat King’s eyes went wide. He stared blankly as an arrow shot toward them. The large shield, forged from solid steel, was as fragile as paper before it. The bolt pierced straight through the shield and burst the head of the trusted subordinate who had just been cracking dirty jokes with him like a watermelon.

Hot blood splattered all over the Rat King’s face, still scalding.

“Hey, Sam.”

A man slowly stepped out of the darkness, exhaling a plume of cigar smoke. The flicker of the flames lit up the ferocious scar on his face.

The man known as Old Ghost raised his hand and shook the military repeating crossbow in it—no different from the one in the Rat King’s possession—and smiled.

“How could you not invite me to a game this fun?”