The continuous days of wilderness journeying had exhausted the survivors of Golden Harbor.

The convoy of carriages trudged along the dusty dirt road, each step weighed down by a heavy numbness.

The nobles had long lost their initial grace; their luxurious robes were covered in dirt, and their exquisite hairstyles were in disarray, but a glimmer of hope began to light up their eyes.

Because, right at the end of the horizon, the outline of a human city loomed into view!

This was a medium-sized kingdom city known as "Orsay."

Unlike the coastal Golden Harbor, it thrived due to its strategic position connecting several trade routes.

The towering city walls gleamed gray-white in the sunlight, the gates wide open, with a faint view of the buildings and people passing beyond.

All these signified one fact — this place was safe!

"Look! It's Orsay City!" Baron Fabio was almost about to jump out of the carriage, his plump face filled with uncontrollable joy.

His voice trembled as if he had seen redemption.

"Finally... we've finally reached a safe place!" Count Reinhart breathed a long sigh of relief, the tension in his heart over the past days finally slightly easing.

After so many days of traveling, the mere existence of this city was a huge temptation.

The private soldiers and guards also felt invigorated, with smiles of survival gracing their tired faces.

The taverns, inns, clean beds, and piping hot food within the city all tempted them.

Jeming stood at the front of the line, halting as he calmly assessed the city ahead.

"My lord, can we enter the city to rest and resupply some necessary provisions?" Count Reinhart carefully approached Jeming, his tone pleading, "The horses need feeding, and we have almost no dry rations left..."

Jeming nodded silently, aware that this group of nobles indeed needed rest and supplies.

"Yes." Jeming replied succinctly, "But not everyone can enter the city. Your carriages and most people must remain outside. Send a team of elite guards to procure supplies. The rest should stay put and be alert."

Though the nobles didn't understand Jeming's caution, they all complied, intimidated by the power Jeming had previously displayed — after all, they were certainly going to enjoy the city.

Soon, the nobles formed a large group of nearly a hundred people, leaving most of the guards behind and heading grandly towards the distant city.

As soon as they set foot in the city, the chaos swept over them, and the nobles, who had been traveling the wilderness for days, couldn't help but burst into tears, eager to find a good inn to rest in.

However, a sudden change erupted!

"Kill!!"

A voice filled with murderous intent suddenly erupted from the city gate!

Following that, more than ten shadows shot out from the gate like ghosts, their speed as swift as lightning!

They wore uniform outfits, wielding not ordinary swords or knives, but daggers and short spears with a faint green glow.

This assassination squad charged directly at the noble carriages in the center of the convoy!

Their agile moves avoided the guards attempting to block them, striking like venomous snakes at their targets.

"Assassins! Protect!" General Brandon roared.

The guards at his side quickly reacted; while they might fall against beastmen, they were quite professional in facing assassinations.

Unfortunately, the number of guards entering the city was too few, and the assassins far outnumbered them. Very soon, many assassins bypassed the guards' defenses and rushed forward.

Count Reinhart and Baron Fabio screamed in terror in the carriage, while the women clung to each other, crying out in despair.

An assassin had already reached Count Reinhart's carriage, the poisoned dagger in his hand gleaming coldly, aiming straight for the curtain.

"Courting death!"

Jeming's voice came from the side.

He had long noticed these assassins lying in ambush at the city gate and was ready for them.

In a flash, he dashed to the front of the convoy.

The first assassin hadn't even reached the carriage curtain before Jeming appeared behind him.

Extending his left hand, he grabbed the assassin's head.

Crack!

A crisp sound of breaking bones echoed, and the assassin's head twisted at a bizarre angle. His body went limp, collapsing in a heap, his poisoned dagger clattering to the ground.

Without sparing a glance, Jeming moved once more, flickering like a blurry shadow through the crowd.

"Ah!!"

Screams echoed one after another!

In front of Jeming, these professional assassins were as fragile as paper.

This uneven slaughter lasted less than a minute.

When Jeming tossed the last assassin to the ground like a ragdoll, all the men in black were lying in pools of blood, none left alive.

They died with open eyes, filled with confusion and fear.

Jeming calmly walked up to a still barely breathing assassin, who was bleeding from his mouth, his pupils dilated, evidently not long for this world.

Jeming crouched down, seemingly checking his condition.

A flicker of light flashed in his eyes, and a pulse of powerful spiritual power transmitted through his fingertips, directly invading the assassin's mind.

"Soul searching."

He forcibly read the assassin's vision as fragmented memories flashed rapidly before Jeming's eyes—

The grand noble mansion in the Royal Capital, in the banquet hall surrounded by flourishing drinks, a few finely dressed men and women, wearing false smiles, secretly plotting something.

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