Great! I'm surrounded by villains!
Chapter 169 - 89: Shackles

Chapter 169: Chapter 89: Shackles

"We always believed that the Second Prince would become an outstanding ruler, one who would surpass his own father and extend the rule over this planet for a long time to come,"

Once the door was closed, Falang’s remarks became much bolder.

In this room were his own people, one old and one young guard, both of whom he had promoted personally, and who would certainly not gossip once they were outside.

"Oh? Why?"

The Third Prince asked.

"Because he has qualities that the Prime Monarch did not possess."

"Is it the Sword Dance?"

"Do you really think that the Sword Dance is just a method for the supervisor to humiliate him?"

"Is it not?"

"The art of Sword Control has always had this saying, ’The sword reflects the man.’ Just by seeing a person’s swordplay, you can largely understand what kind of person they are. Take the Prime Monarch for example, his swordplay was too direct and unbending, never compromising."

The Third Prince just smiled faintly and said, "I have never been interested in the art of Sword Control; it’s nothing but dregs from an old era."

If the Prime Monarch had been able to bend, there would be no need for them, and naturally, there would be no drama over the succession to the throne.

The Third Prince felt that this was not the fault of the Prime Monarch, for the art of Sword Control had never been about teaching someone to bend. The family’s ancestral teachings mentioned more than once that cultivating the sword was cultivating the heart, and those who wielded the sword, as they journeyed through the world, must always stand up against injustices—it was the original intention of the ancestors who created the art of Sword Control.

So from a very young age, he understood that practising the art of Sword Control was a futile endeavour.

Falang neither agreed nor disagreed, and continued, "What’s called the Sword Dance cultivates what the Prime Monarch lacked—the ’gentle’ aspect. Only when the hard and the soft are combined can one truly govern the world."

Utter nonsense stated in an earnest manner.

Translated, this sentence meant that the Second Prince was far more compliant than the Prime Monarch, and more apt to follow the company’s arrangements. This was what the company truly desired. As for the so-called ’martial temperament,’ or the assessments that his qualities greatly resembled those of a young Prime Monarch, these were merely to make the succession of the Second Prince to the throne seem like a natural and widely supported outcome.

"Ying Tian, not inheriting the throne might not be such a bad thing after all."

"That has never been my ambition."

"You have done a lot for this planet, and with your talents, you shouldn’t stay in a place like this. Once this whole affair is over, I will convey the company’s invitation to you on their behalf."

"So, you’re saying that my role is already over."

Having fulfilled the mission bestowed by Heaven and received Heaven’s grace should have made one ecstatic, yet at this moment, the Third Prince was calm as still water.

Admiring his talent and inviting him to a grander stage was just a polite way to say it, but the reality was that once the succession struggle was over, the new king would no longer need a brother who commanded his own troops and wielded significant power.

"I still have many brothers and sisters; what does the company plan to do with them?"

"As for the Elder Princess, you already know my intentions. Regarding the others, since a new king will be ascending the throne, let him deal with these trivial matters."

"I see."

"What, do you have a better idea?"

A faint smile hung on Falang’s face, but a hint of coldness flickered in his eyes.

The last thing the company needed was a person with an overabundance of self-awareness. The Third Prince had not only declined the olive branch he had offered, but he had also dragged the other possible heirs into the conversation.

"How dare I? I’m just suddenly feeling rather melancholy about their situation."

The other heirs had been no different from abandoned toys from the moment they were born; they had never really been at the heart of the struggle for the throne. Their only value was to make this game, orchestrated by the Extraterrestrials, seem livelier.

"What about the company’s invitation; have you given it any thought?"

Falang’s tone became more severe.

Time is precious to company people; at their world, every banquet serves a purpose, like how, at this very moment, the Third Prince, who has many friends within the Imperial Court and is respected by many, is also time to fade from people’s sight.

However, considering his contributions over the years, the company is willing to grant him a dignified exit.

Being chosen by the company to go to a broader stage is also considered a good tale in the Imperial Court.

"It’s naturally my honor to receive an invitation from the company, but before that, there’s still one thing I need to accomplish."

"Oh? Perhaps I can give you a hand."

"Indeed, I will need your help with this matter, as I likely can’t accomplish it alone, and it can be regarded as fulfilling a long-held curiosity of mine."

The Third Prince paused, his gaze suddenly turning exceedingly sharp, "That is... to borrow your head for a moment."

Within the grand hall, blood splattered for five steps.

Falang’s smile froze on his face, his vision spun wildly, as his head fell from his body, rolling across the ground.

When the Third Prince uttered words of defiance against Heaven, the two guards stationed at the door made their move.

Falang could not understand why these two loyal guards, whom he had personally promoted, were chopping at his neck.

The Third Prince remained seated at his original spot, watching the head on the ground until its eyes lost focus, then he raised his hand, wiping the blood off his cheek before holding it in front of his eyes.

The blood of the Extraterrestrials is also red.

Thick, with a pungent scent, it was not much different from theirs.

He approached Falang’s head, bent down and closed the eyes that could no longer rest in peace.

The process had been much easier than the Third Prince had imagined, perhaps because until the head rolled off, Falang would never believe these servants, who had always worshipped Heaven, would truly strike him.

To kill the messenger of Heaven is a capital offense, and it will drag all those he cherished into Hell with him.

From the first day the Third Prince became sensible, this thought was branded into the depths of his mind like a steel stamp.

"Please answer my question."

The Third Prince addressed the forever silent Falang, "If the chains of destiny are severed, where does the future lead?"

Just now, the course of fate had shifted.

From now on, Falang would no longer be able to indulge in his fetish for collecting princesses.

If the Elder Princess is lucky and can leave the Imperial Court to return to Yunhai Academy, perhaps she can enjoy another decade or so of peaceful times.

As for him,

To kill one is to kill, to slay a crowd is also to kill, both are capital offenses—it’s all the same.

"As for you, you might just have to be buried along with this madman."

He looked up at the guards; both still wore impassive faces, showing no emotion, yet their deep pupils seemed to reflect the Black Sea, boundless, endless, without horizon.

"You’ve repaid the debt you owed me, if you don’t want to die, then flee."

The old guard looked stiffly at Falang, then at the Third Prince, his raised finger pointing at the headless corpse still sitting in the chair. His body, along with the chair, melted into a liquid, scattering on the ground and leaving a smear of "oil paint" amid the crimson pool.

The old guard moved his lips, his voice sounding as if waves were surging.

——"I’ll help you."