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Chapter 103: Assassination

  It seemed to be peak time for guests, as those outside the hall had stopped sitting and were chatting. Captains from both divisions arrived as expected. Pillnar, the vice-captain of Night Watch, entered the hall and caught Stirling's eye.

  Once everyone had arrived, host old Karl gave a welcome speech, and the banquet began.

  Following the host's instructions, the servants lined up with trays. They placed food on the table in front of everyone. Meanwhile, beautiful maids moved about, refilling everyone's glasses with fine wine.

  Since transmigrating, this was the first time Stirling had seen such extravagance. He thought the inner city and the outer city were truly two different worlds.

  The top officials here drank and celebrated, undeterred by Yearning Malice's threat. Those in the outer city worked hard every day. They left early and came back late for only a few copper coins.

  Stirling looked at the food in front of him. He secretly pricked all the food with a silver needle. Once he confirmed everything was fine, he finally felt relieved enough to eat.

  Soon, dusk fell, and the banquet drew to a close.

  Stirling stood outside the hall, unaware of the talks inside. He thought about the situation during his meal. He came up with some ideas about what was happening.

  Farfield City was becoming increasingly chaotic. Stirling talked about leaving with Lance. However, Lance said his term wasn't over yet, so moving would be very difficult.

  Even someone as powerful as Khan, a disciple of an Anode Palace elder, had to spend three years in this small city. Then he could return to the mountain to report for duty.

  Stirling had initially hoped to find an opportunity to drug Khan today. Now, that seemed impossible.

  A worshipper with intent and one without intent are completely different beings. Besides, after his encounter with the smiling cultivator, Stirling noticed a phenomenon. As the worshiper's strength grows, the inherent witchcraft of these deities becomes harder to get rid of.

  It's like the crazy laughter of the smiling cultivator. If the cultist's skills were any better, wouldn't block the ears be pointless?

  Khan's strength is immense. Who can say they can resist the witchcraft from the Yearning Palace that he carries out?

  Until this is clear, Stirling will not act rashly. Otherwise, failure won't be a simple matter of running away.

  Thus, things are back to square one.

  Stirling faces two paths.

  First, become stronger in no time, strong enough to suppress the entire city.

  Second, hurry and run away. Find another place that can steadily provide statues for his cultivation.

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  Stirling prefers the first option over the second. He's already doing well in Farfield City. Giving up everything and running away now is something he's absolutely reluctant to do.

  Regardless, Stirling always prioritizes risk management and would never put all his eggs in one basket.

  After the meeting, he planned to ask Lance to apply for a transfer to the palace and check their response.

  After the meeting, everyone dispersed.

  Stirling walked alone on the street, with no companions.

  After all, he was merely a lowly clerk in the archives; being able to attend such an event was already a stroke of good luck.

  No one wanted to walk with him, which allowed Stirling some peace.

  Just then, Stirling saw a figure darting by in a nearby alley. His brow furrowed.

  The streets were nearly empty, even though the curfew hadn't come yet. Only a few people who had left the banquet remained.

  In addition, the figure seemed somewhat familiar.

  After glancing around briefly, Stirling, though curious, decided not to follow.

  Meddling wasn't his style.

  Might it be that someone wanted to grab his attention? They hoped that if he followed, four or five vigorous men would leap out from around the corner.

  Stirling didn't want to be caught in a trap. He shook his head and headed straight for his small courtyard.

  Meanwhile, Khan, accompanied by his maids, staggered out of Karl's mansion. He must have drunk more wine; his face was a tad flushed, clearly a little tipsy.

  Outside the mansion, carriages were ready. Khan's carriage was naturally the largest and best, and it was at the very front.

  With his two maids by his side, Khan boarded the carriage. The coachman cracked the whip. The two magnificent horses pushed off, and the carriage wheels turned at once.

  Other guests got into their own carriages in succession. The sound of hooves echoed "clack-clack-clack" in front of Karl's mansion, filling the quiet street.

  As night fell, Khan's carriage slowly made its way towards the Patrol Shaman's residence. As they moved away from Karl's mansion, the surrounding noise grew quieter.

  The carriage crept into a narrow alley. The playful sounds of Khan and his maids echoed inside from time to time. A figure suddenly appeared on a nearby wall, watching the slowly moving carriage.

  Just as the carriage reached the middle of the alley, a deafening explosion erupted without warning. A burst of flames and smoke billowed into the sky, blasting the carriage in two!

  But the horses pulling the carriage were demonic steeds eroded with malice energy. They had ripped bellies and dark blue organs falling from the wound, yet they still had the strength to run.

  The two demonic horses burst out of the flames, but only half of the carriage emerged. The broken half of the carriage creaked as the demonic horse dragged it for over ten meters. After over ten meters, the horses finally collapsed at the alley's end with a pitiful neigh.

  But the figure on the wall didn't leave; it remained, watching the intense flames below.

  Sure enough, a figure stepped out of the firelight steadily with a wild laugh. It was Khan, the man who had been joking with the maid in the carriage!

  Now, Khan's face was grim; the flames couldn't penetrate even three feet of him. He held a maid's head in his hand, the head still bearing a frozen, resentful expression.

  Khan looked up at the figure on the wall and sneered:

  "You have been pretending for so long; I thought you were not coming!"

  "You've had this bitch infiltrating around me for so long, feeding me poison every day. If it weren't for her various sex tricks and how enjoyable it was to fuck her, I would have killed her long ago! Now, that little bitch is dead. Let me guess, you didn't have time to experience her bedtime skills, did you? Tsk tsk tsk. What a pity! "

  Khan tossed the woman's head aside and then beckoned to the figure standing on the wall:

  "Come on, you roach, kill me!"

  As soon as Khan finished speaking, the figure on the wall swooped down like an eagle. A burst of scorching blood energy erupted from its body and formed a blurry image behind it. A powerful vital force surged from its body, causing the flames to crackle.

  Khan saw the blood-red image behind the masked figure, a disdainful glint appearing on his lips.

  Then, a red light abruptly emanated from Khan's hands, and he pounced on the leaping figure.

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