Kirito accelerated to the maximum extent possible, dashing through the intricate streets and finally setting foot in an extremely vast area towering right at the center of the capital—this was the residence of the kingdom’s most powerful figures.
Around the palace grounds at this moment, smoke bombs released by assassins hung thick, billowing in a blinding haze to obscure the entire defensive troop system. The shrill, clashing sounds of metal echoed without pause, blending with the hoarse shouting of battle orders from commanding officers:
"Defend the rear tightly! Don’t let them through!"
Cloaking himself under a black garb that blended into the night, Kirito stealthily slipped through the dense black smoke.
He flexibly maneuvered his body, dodging shurikens and darts whizzing through the air. The palace courtyard was far too vast, overflowing with smoke and fire; if he moved off to either side, he would definitely collide face-to-face with other Shinobi squads from the opposing faction. With no other choice, Kirito was forced to plunge deeper into the blinding smoke right down the center.
He pressed off the ground to leap onto the tiled roof to observe the overall situation. Up high at this moment, many other Shinobis were also moving, but they maintained a fairly wide distance from one another. Among assassins who tacitly understood that all were heading toward a common target, direct melee chaos had not yet broken out.
Right at the main gate area, imperial troops gathered thick as ants to erect shield walls for defense. Meanwhile, on the upper floors of the majestic red-roofed hall, multiple layers of Shinobis were finding every possible way to swing down ropes and hurl themselves to approach from half-open windows, only to be beaten back by the forces inside.
The empress’s faction deployed their tactics with extreme tightness: regular soldiers were densely stationed to block all ground pathways, while atop the rooftops and surrounding hidden corners were loyal assassin squads set up to intercept the pack of Shinobis eyeing the assassination of the empress.
"Squad one, fall back!" A commanding officer’s loud shout rang across the skies.
Instantly, the line of soldiers thrusting their long spears outward with heavy thuds fell back in accordance with iron discipline.
Catching sight of the window gap just left vacant, many impatient Shinobis seized the opportunity, tumbling forward intending to lunge right there. Yet, that was merely a trap. The very next moment, a heavy siege crossbow unit from hidden positions simultaneously emerged.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
A black rain of arrows covering the heavens and earth poured down from all directions. The terrifying destructive power of a barrage of armor-piercing arrows caused countless Shinobis to suffer tragic fatal injuries on the spot, blood flowing into pools. Only those extremely nimble ones who managed to find shelter luckily preserved their lives through that deadly rain of arrows.
Kirito pressed himself tightly behind a large, exquisitely carved stone lion statue, staring wide-eyed at the horrifying scene unfolding before his eyes. Realizing the arrow storm had just temporarily ceased, he harbored the intent to charge out to find a path of approach.
Yet, not just him alone, several Shinobis hiding nearby shared the exact same thought. But before he could even take a step, a second wave of arrow rain roared and tore through the wind to fire again, sealing off all pathways, making approaching the hall at this moment an impossible mission for anyone.
"Damn it..." Kirito gritted his teeth, muttering in his chest, his eyes darting quickly to search for a solution, "With arrow rain this thick, how on earth are we supposed to find a gap to dodge through and advance?"
The supreme essence of a Shinobi from of old had always been risking one’s life at all costs to successfully fulfill assigned missions. In Kirito’s mind at that moment, an intentional calculation even flashed: What if he faked an injury for himself and found a safe retreat path? That way, upon returning, the eccentric old master wouldn’t even be able to find an excuse to scold or punish him.
Yet, thinking of how he hadn’t even set a single foot inside the solemn palace before tucking his tail and running away, an overwhelming sense of unwillingness surged within Kirito’s heart.
He couldn’t just stand rooted to the spot and take a beating forever like this!
Thought into action, Kirito seized a fleeting moment between the two waves of arrow rain, launching his entire body horizontally straight toward the long corridor of the main building. Instantly, a barrage of dozens of razor-sharp arrows screamed in close pursuit right behind his heels, embedding themselves densely into the wooden floor with popping sounds.
Kirito rolled and tumbled, managing in time to tuck himself away into a safe, hidden corner beneath the building’s eaves. Quick as lightning, he reached out to snap a large dry tree branch nearby, then pulled a box of matches from inside his garment lining to ignite it.
At the same time, Kirito successively hurled oil pouches in various directions along the corridor and the base of the palace wall.
The moment his hand released, he directly lobbed the burning, blazing branch right into the middle of the spilled oil.
Whoosh!
The fierce flames instantly blazed sky-high, spreading outward at a dizzying speed.
Objectively speaking, this was essentially a suicidal and extremely terrible tactic. Because the overwhelming sea of fire would cause even the Shinobi assassins wishing to press into the inner ring to encounter immense difficulties, even roasting themselves. However, in this dilemma, Kirito could entirely exploit the very chaos caused by the flames as a springboard to shatter the defensive formation.
"There’s a massive fire! Quick! Promptly dispatch men to protect the empress!"
Inside the key area, a commanding officer’s panicked shouting echoed back and forth amidst the blinding smoke and fire.
Seeing the blaze erupting to cause unprecedented chaos, the surviving Shinobis from the arrow storms suddenly felt as though imbued with fresh vitality. They roared in unison, frantically lunging straight into the encirclement to slaughter the milling guards rushing to put out the fire. Yet, the empress’s troop system was exceptionally well-trained with iron discipline; though chaotic, they still established a fierce counter-attacking formation, making the close-quarters combat drag on endlessly and bloodily.