At Henwell’s command, the Locksmiths rush forward and swiftly cut down the guards inside the hall.

  As they close in on the young man, two figures suddenly leap out from behind a folding screen, knocking back two Silver Locksmiths.

  If not for the timely backup from two Soul Locksmiths, those two would have had their throats slit.

  Even so, both of these two Soul Locksmiths suffer serious injuries.

  The two Soul Locksmiths charge forward to block the two Martial Warriors.

  After a brief skirmish, anyone with eyes can see the Soul Locksmiths are outmatched.

  These two swordsmen are Third Rank Martial Warriors, veterans far stronger than the two newly promoted Third Rank Soul Locksmiths.

  The pair, a man and a woman in their thirties, fight with seamless coordination. They’re likely a married couple or something simir.

  After watching for a moment, Henwell gestures, and the Locksmiths immediately form a battle formation, focusing on one of the opponents.

  This allows the two Soul Locksmiths to gang up two-on-one, making the fight more banced.

  Still, without Henwell stepping in, the Locksmiths present couldn’t take these two down.

  Of course, Henwell doesn’t need to fight himself, but he has a way to bring these two to justice.

  With a light flick of his finger, several illusory chains shoot out and tch onto the couple.

  Suddenly, their bodies feel heavy, and their Qi flow is severely disrupted.

  The Will Lock suppression seals off about one-third of their strength.

  This makes it much harder for them to withstand the Locksmiths’ assault.

  As the battle drags on, the young man who had been calm now furrows his brow.

  He sees his bodyguards losing ground but feels powerless.

  He signals one of his men to send a message.

  But before the man can move, Henwell fires an arrow that pins him to the folding screen behind.

  The young man jumps up, gring at Henwell. “How dare you! Do you know who I am? I am Nangong Pingyue, Crown Prince of the South King!”

  Henwell bows zily. “Ah, so you’re the Crown Prince!”

  “Are you just looking to die?”

  Before Henwell can answer, a scream rings out from the fight circle, the female swordsman has already been wounded.

  The situation grows increasingly dire. The male swordsman, desperate for his wife’s safety, struggles to close the distance toward her.

  But the two Soul Locksmiths hold him firmly in pce. In his reckless charge, he even takes a ssh from one of them.

  Nangong Pingyue shouts at Henwell, “Tell your men to stop!”

  Leaning against a pilr, Henwell watches the fight calmly, occasionally pointing out fws in the swordsmen’s moves.

  After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the female swordsman is gravely wounded and her stamina wanes.

  Four Gold Locksmiths seize the moment and unch her into the air.

  They whip out chains and wrap her limbs tightly, suspending her midair.

  Several Silver Locksmiths step forward with bdes drawn. Before the woman can even scream, she’s torn apart, limb by limb.

  Seeing his wife die on the spot, the male swordsman’s eyes bze with fury. He unleashes a secret technique that boosts his power, forcing the two Soul Locksmiths to retreat.

  But his reckless assault also leaves him severely wounded by the two Soul Locksmiths.

  Determined to avenge his wife, he lunges to kill the Silver Locksmiths who attacked her.

  Henwell kicks a table, sending it flying into the swordsman.

  At the same time, Henwell powers up his legs and charges at the man.

  Just as the swordsman shatters the table, Henwell appears before him and punches him square in the chest.

  The fist strikes the spine of the man’s sword, smashing into his chest and bsting him backward.

  Before he can fly far, Henwell grabs his ankle and sms him hard onto the ground.

  The tremendous force bounces him back up.

  Waiting for him is Henwell’s right hand, coming down in a crushing blow that shatters his spine.

  Nangong Pingyue points at Henwell. “Stop!”

  Henwell walks calmly to the near-death swordsman, then stomps down, breaking his neck.

  Wiping the blood off his foot, Henwell looks up at Nangong Pingyue. “What did you just say, Crown Prince?”

  The deaths of two Third Rank masters send a flicker of panic through Nangong Pingyue’s heart.

  Taking a deep breath, Nangong Pingyue speaks up. “Warden Henwell, you say you’ve come to arrest me, but what crime have I committed?”

  Henwell points to the massive iron cage in the center. Inside lie the bodies of three little girls, one barely clinging to life, and two wolves covered in wounds.

  “Human versus beast fights, doesn’t that break the w?”

  The Ministry of Justice Deputy Minister speaks up. “They’re all family members of criminals whose entire households were executed. Their deaths don’t matter.”

  Henwell raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So this pce doubles as the court’s execution ground? Is that what you’re saying, Deputy Minister An?”

  The deputy minister falls silent. Nangong Pingyue confidently says, “They volunteered. I have signed documents to prove it! At worst, I’m guilty of some prohibited acts, but I’m a royal noble with legal immunity. You have no right to arrest me.”

  Henwell rolls his eyes. “Are you deaf? I’m from the Court of Judicial Review, the department that specifically investigates nobles!”

  Nangong Pingyue replies, “I’m open and aboveboard. I’m not afraid of your investigation, but you should consider the consequences.”

  Henwell approaches the iron cage and rips open a rge hole. He kneels beside the dying girl.

  Nangong Pingyue knows she won’t survive. Her insides are exposed, most of her face eaten away. Her throat is torn, and her lungs struggle for air.

  Henwell crouches down and gently presses his hand on her head. Softly, he says, “It’s over now. Sleep. This was just a nightmare. When you wake, it will be gone.”

  After shattering the girl’s nervous system, Henwell slowly closes her tear-filled, vacant eyes.

  Nangong Pingyue smiles and asks, “Warden Henwell, what did she say? Did she say she volunteered?”

  Henwell counters, “Do you have proof of her identity? Any contract showing she sold herself?”

  “Of course!”

  Nangong Pingyue cps his hands, and a maid brings out a small box.

  He pulls out several documents. “Warden Henwell, please take a look. I’m a w-abiding man!”

  Henwell steps forward and examines the papers carefully. There are no loopholes.

  Nangong Pingyue continues smiling, “So, Warden Henwell, no problem then? Since I’m unreted to this matter, let’s talk about your breaking into my estate and killing people.”

  Henwell looks up at him. “Do you know what that little girl just told me?”

  A sick expression crosses Nangong Pingyue’s face. “Did she say she was in pain? Beg you to save her? Ask you to avenge her?”

  Henwell waves his hand. “Come closer. What she said is a bit crude, better not have others overhear.”

  Feeling bold, Nangong Pingyue leans in. Henwell grins wickedly. “She told me to give you a sp.”

  With that, Henwell shoves a dagger into Nangong Pingyue’s hand and stabs himself in the stomach.

  Then, with a swift backhand, Henwell sps Nangong Pingyue across the face. Seven or eight teeth fly out, his cheekbone shatters, and he’s sent flying backward.