The King had died a sudden death, and the cause was an assassination by Elina. The princess of a vassal state had refused to accept her place and struck down the King—a crime so heinous it was beyond redemption, deserving only of a public hanging.
Furthermore, her defiance was said to be backed by the third prince himself. That was supposedly why the grief-stricken King had locked him away in the first place, never anticipating that rather than reflecting on his own misdeeds, the prince would harbor even darker ambitions and order the murder of his own biological father.
It was a crude and flimsy excuse, but coming directly from the royal family, the two of them were marched to the execution grounds regardless of the mounting rumors.
Beneath the gallows, Elina—once as vibrant and beautiful as a blooming flower—now had hair as dry and brittle as straw. She squinted in discomfort when she opened her eyes, only to burst into bloodcurdling screams the moment her gaze landed on the gallows.
Her voice no longer resembled the sweet song of a bird. Instead, it was raspy and harsh, like coarse sand scraping against rusted iron. Unable to break free, she could only endure the executioner’s force as the noose was slipped around her neck. The slowly tightening rope choked the breath right out of her throat.
Her legs thrashing wildly, her arms strained in vain to pry loose the rope strangling her life away. Slowly, her breathing ceased, her face turned a bruised purple, and her limbs dangled lifelessly.
The flower that had once been the most stunning of all died just like any ordinary person—hideous, cold, utterly devoid of beauty, and devoid of anyone left to cherish her.
“Yao, are you happy? The woman who once offended you is gone,” Kathy wrapped his arms around him from behind, leaning in to whisper against his ear. “With me around, no one will ever dare to bully you.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Lin Yao turned his head slightly, as though unconsciously dodging the kiss brushing against his earlobe, his eyes soft as water. “I knew Your Highness was the best to me.”
“Of course I am. I’m the person who loves you most in this world,” Kathy’s breathing grew heavy. No matter how many times he had taken the man in his arms, he always felt as though he had never truly possessed him completely.
Covering Lin Yao’s eyes, Kathy shoved him down onto the lounger resting on the city tower. Ordering the guards to withdraw, Kathy pounced on him with near-frenzy, indulging his desires whenever and wherever he pleased.
Accompanying the sounds of the executions taking place outside, he seemed exceptionally invigorated.
Lin Yao stared at the man lying atop the lounger, a flicker of genuine disgust flashing across his eyes.
While Kathy was still thrusting away on the lounger, Lin Yao looked out toward the gallows in the distance. The young prince—the one who had tried to protect his father and eldest brother—was already dead, his breathing extinguished as well.
Kathy was using this event to purge all opposition, dragging almost every dissenting voice to this very execution ground.
Once a person’s hands were stained with blood, they seemed to grow less and less fearful of taking a life.
The wind sweeping through the archway caught his long black hair, reflecting the morning light. The royal city appeared majestic and formidable on the surface, but with every spray of blood spilling across the execution grounds, it took on the decaying colors of a collapsing dynasty.
When Kathy woke up that day, he had laughed uproariously as he looked at the breathtaking beauty resting beside him, feeling as though he had claimed the entire world. Yet, from the moment Lin Yao was sent back to his quarters that afternoon, Kathy was never seen again.
Lin Yao spent his days unhurriedly. Meanwhile, the system grew bored and went searching everywhere for gossip, acting like an automated news ticker: [That Kathy guy hasn’t shown up at all. Men really are all pigs—once they get what they want, the novelty wears off instantly.]
Hearing the system’s rant, Lin Yao merely smiled faintly. Kathy wasn’t tired of him, nor did he lack the desire to come; he simply had no way to come.
Cody appeared cold and ruthless, yet he had genuinely harbored affection and care for his father and younger brother.
That was why he had merely imprisoned them initially rather than taking drastic measures. Even Cody himself probably hadn’t anticipated that a single departure would trigger such massive turmoil.
If Kathy wanted to claim the throne, he couldn’t let Cody return alive. Having already murdered his father and one of his brothers, killing one more meant nothing to him.
Yet a man like Cody was not someone who could be killed so easily.
The former god of war might have temporarily sheathed his blade, but when he chose to draw it, no one could withstand his wrath—not even Kathy.
The cries of battle within the royal palace broke out in the early hours of the morning. Flames spread far and wide, and the clashing of swords composed a grim symphony of blood.
Lin Yao sat up in bed. Rapid, chaotic footsteps approached at a frantic pace. The hall doors were slammed open from the outside, and Kathy—drenched in blood—rushed toward Lin Yao.
Deviating from his usual tender, doting affection, his movements were exceptionally rough this time. He went so far as to press his blood-stained blade directly against Lin Yao’s pale, delicate neck.
His whole body trembled violently, radiating the unhinged desperation of a man backed into a corner.
“Your Highness?” Lin Yao called out.
“My beauty, I don’t want to do this either, but I want to live. Only by staying alive can I continue to have you. You have to understand me,” Kathy panted heavily in his ear.
Outside, the glow of fire drew closer, advancing at an unhurried, measured pace—like a cat playing with a mouse. It required little effort, showing no regard for its prey.
Blood trickled down the hem of Cody’s robes as well. The red stains on his cheeks and golden hair laid bare just how brutal this palace coup had been, and how many lives had been claimed.
Gazing at the scene inside the hall, Cody showed no tension whatsoever; instead, a soft laugh escaped his lips.
Before he could say a word, Kathy—standing behind Lin Yao—shrieked in uncontrollable rage: “What are you laughing at? The person you love most is in my hands! Let me go, or I’ll kill him!”
When the soldiers surged into the hall behind Cody, they halted precisely a step behind him. The palace was brightly lit, and under the glow of the firelight, the priest—as perfect and ethereal as moonlight—looked breathtakingly stunning.
Everyone knew what a supreme satisfaction it would be to hold such a beauty in their arms. Yet the soldiers took only a single glance before averting their eyes. Only Cody locked eyes with Lin Yao, their gazes meeting. “Yao, letting him go is equivalent to releasing a tiger back into the mountains. Do you understand?”
Those words were an explicit abandonment.
“I understand, Your Highness,” Lin Yao feigned a brief shock. Just as a thought crossed Kathy’s mind, Lin Yao lunged straight toward the horizontal blade.
In a panic, Kathy instinctively released his grip on the sword. Lin Yao tumbled out of his embrace, while a blade sliced through the air like a snapping reed, driving past his neck and plunging straight into Kathy’s chest.
Blood spattered everywhere. As Lin Yao stabilized his footing, his senses were greeted by the familiar scent of the man holding him, his eyes catching the sight of the cascading golden hair.
Behind him, Kathy clutched his chest in sheer disbelief, staring at the two people wrapped in an embrace.
He knew a gap existed between them, but he had never imagined it was this vast.
“Hahahaha.” Instead of raging, he began to laugh—a laugh that sounded sinister and horrifyingly grotesque.
Though the sword was buried in his chest, he was still alive. Sitting there propped against the bed, he showed no immediate signs of dying.
Three inches above his heart—it had narrowly missed his vital organs.
“Cody, don’t think that just because you didn’t kill me, you’re any different from me,” Kathy chuckled darkly, his smile vanishing as abruptly as it came. “In truth, you’re just like me.”
Realizing he had no way out, he made no further attempt to escape. He turned his blood-stained gaze toward Lin Yao, who had his head buried in Cody’s chest. Blood leaked from the corners of his mouth, and his once-emerald eyes now glowed with a murky, dark light—resembling a stagnant, foul pond.
“Yao, you truly are a beauty who knows how to adapt to the situation. But if my eldest brother knew that your body has already been thoroughly explored by me inside and out, would he still love you as much as before?”
Lin Yao’s body visibly stiffened. Immediately, Cody tightened his arms around him in a fierce grip. The force increased, though it wasn’t painful—this man cared deeply about it.
“And what of it?” Cody’s voice sounded from above his head, chillingly cold.
“Heh. Hahaha,” Cassius laughed so hard his body shook. “You probably don’t know how I enjoyed him. On this very bed, I took him for a whole night. His legs went completely soft, and he cried out all night long. His voice got so hoarse it made me wish I could split myself in two! And then in that massive bath, on top of the palace walls, that exquisite mouth of his—”
“Are you trying to goad me?” Cody cut him off with a cold sneer. “I am furious, but I still won’t kill you. Give up.”
At Cody’s gesture, the soldiers stepped forward, gagged Kathy, and dragged him away.
A trail of blood wound across the floor, echoing the scene when the King had been dragged out that day. Though Kathy wasn’t dead yet, he wouldn’t survive much longer.
Lin Yao had an instinctual feeling about it. But right now, the person he had to deal with was the man standing right before him.
Having not seen him for over a month, Lin Yao suddenly couldn’t quite gauge this man’s thoughts anymore.
Although the subsequent steps in his plan remained unchanged, any unknown variable could potentially lead to failure.
After the soldiers scrubbed away the blood and withdrew, the hall felt exceptionally cold and deserted with only the two of them remaining.
Neither of them spoke, for whoever broke the silence first would find themselves in a position of weakness.
Lin Yao trembled visibly. His chin was gently pinched and lifted, forcing him to look directly into Cody’s vibrant blue eyes. Beneath the firelight, his gaze carried the same intense devotion as when he had set out on his campaign, yet there was something subtly different about it.
He said, “Yao, you’ve had quite a scare tonight. Rest well.”
He released his embrace, took a step back, and turned to leave.
“Your Highness,” Lin Yao grabbed his sleeve. His glistening eyes met the man’s turning gaze as he spoke with difficulty, “Can you stay?”
“Are you afraid?” Cody asked, brushing back the hair on his forehead.
Lin Yao nodded.
Cody let out a faint, almost imperceptible sigh. “Tonight is chaotic, and I have matters to attend to. Go to sleep first. I’ll come back later tonight.”
His sleeve was gently pulled from Lin Yao’s grip, and he turned to leave without hesitation. Though his demeanor remained as gentle as ever, a bad premonition welled up inside Lin Yao’s heart.
Despite his promise to return, Lin Yao waited the entire night without seeing a trace of him. At dawn, fresh news echoed through the royal palace:
Kathy was dead. It was a suicide.
For a man who cherished his own life as fiercely as he did to choose suicide, there had to be an underlying force driving it.