The cavalry force arrived beneath the massive banyan tree not long afterward.
Three hundred mounted soldiers.
Warhorses snorting heavily into the freezing night air while armor plates clinked softly beneath torchlight.
Yet the moment they entered the forest region they felt a mysterious and highly sufferecating aura.
The entire formation slowed. Because everyone felt it. That aura. A suffocating pressure saturated the forest itself like invisible bloodlust poured into the air.
Even the horses became restless, stomping nervously while several weaker mounts outright refused to move forward. Then a voice echoed from above.
"Today, you stand in my shadow. All who are sinful shall soon be dragged into the depths of Hell. I hereby stand before you as the infamous King Of Hell."
The sound carried strangely through the darkness. Rough. Deep. Distorted by the armor into something almost inhuman.
"You cowards wouldn't happen to be the same bastards chasing some innocent women through the forest, would you?" The cold voice asked.
The soldiers immediately looked upward.
And there, high atop one of the massive branches sat the King of Hell.
Blood-red armor glowed faintly through the darkness while crimson lightning crawled across the jagged spikes along his shoulders and arms.
A deep black blade rested casually across one knee as though he were merely watching a stage performance instead of blocking an armed pursuit force alone.
The soldiers erupted immediately. "Who the hell are you?" The older general asked. "Show your face!" A soldier shouted. "You dare interfere with an imperial escort?"
Again the form general shouted angrily.
The other general pointed upward furiously. "You're courting death!" He said furiously. The King of Hell laughed.
A deep, echoing laugh that rolled through the forest like distant thunder. "Death?" he repeated mockingly. "You fools are awaiting death like loyal dogs, and still think it obayes you." He said mockingly.
Another shouted upward. "You're speaking to the Crown Prince's forces!" It was the eunice who said that. "Oh?" the King of Hell tilted his head slightly. "Then that explains the smell." He said proudly.
Several soldiers immediately exploded in fury. "You arrogant bastard!" One soilder shouted. "Come down here if you want to die!" Another shouted.
"You think hiding in a tree makes you powerful?" The young general shouted.
The King of Hell slowly rose to his feet atop the branch. "No," he answered calmly. "The killing makes me powerful."
He said coldly.
Then the red glow beneath his helmet intensified. "And I rather enjoy killing weaklings like you." He said arrogantly. One of the younger general lost control immediately.
"You insane dog!" he shouted. "Do you know who stands below you?" He said with furry. The King of Hell leaned slightly forward afterward. "NO," he answered honestly. "And judging from your aura neither will history." He said mockingly.
Several soldiers nearly drew weapons instantly. Even the older general frowned now. Because the man above them was not speaking like someone bluffing. He sounded entertained.
The young general, a battle-hardened Grandmaster level worior finally stepped forward atop his armored horse, unable to tolerate the humiliation any longer.
"You talk too much, you filthy son of the bitch," the warrior growled while drawing his heavy saber. "Come down and test your blade against someone worthy." He kept shouting.
The King of Hell tilted his head. Then laughed softly. "There we are," he said approvingly. "At least one dog finally learned how to bark properly." He said proudly.
The Grandmaster exploded upward in rage. "DIE!" He shouted. But the King of Hell moved first. Red lightning burst outward from the branch beneath him.
The tree cracked violently as he launched downward like a falling meteor.
"SLASH!" One vertical slash. Simple. Clean. Absolute. The Grandmaster barely had time to widen his eyes before the glowing black blade cleaved directly through him.
Not even the horse beneath him was spared. In a second both rider and mount was separated cleanly down the middle.
Two perfect halves slid apart in opposite directions before collapsing heavily onto the blood-soaked ground.
Silence consumed the forest. The soldiers froze. Because this had not been a weak fighter. That man had been a genuine Grandmaster-level general, with decades of battlefield experience.
Yet he had died in one strike. Like a paper slit in two. The King of Hell landed lightly afterward, crimson lightning still crackling across the edges of his blade.
Then he slowly looked toward the remaining officers. "Well?" he asked casually. "Who's next?" The older eunuch moved forward immediately afterward atop his dark horse.
Unlike the dead general, this man did not rage. His face remained cold. Measured.
An almost Transcendent-level expert.
One step away from surpassing mortality itself.
"You rely too heavily on speed," the eunuch said calmly while drawing his thin curved sword. "That only works until someone catches you." He said confidently.
The King of Hell pointed his blade toward him lazily. "Then catch me." He challenged him lazily. The eunuch vanished first. His horse exploded forward as he launched through the air with terrifying speed.
The shining curved sword aimed directly for the King of Hell's throat. The soldiers barely managed to follow the exchange, as the King of Hell's sword moved in a wide crimson arc toward the eunuch's neck.
The eunuch reacted instantly. His own sword rose to block. Too late. By the time the defensive blade reached position the attack had already reached his neck. Thus easily severing it.
The eunuch's eyes widened slightly.
Then his head slid cleanly from his shoulders. His body remained upright for one impossible heartbeat before collapsing lifelessly beside his horse.
Another Grandmaster died just like that. The remaining soldiers felt their blood turn cold. The final Grandmaster, the older general, broke immediately.
He turned his horse around and fled at full speed into the darkness without hesitation. None of the soldiers mocked him. Because they wanted to run too.
Yet through all of this one figure still had not moved. The Transcendent. The personal disciple of the First Princess.
He remained seated on top of his horse silently beneath a dark traveling cloak, his hood hiding most of his face.
Then finally he got down and stepped forward. Slowly removing the outer cloak from his shoulders. A surprisingly young face appeared beneath. Cold. Refined.
Almost beautiful. But his eyes carried no warmth whatsoever.
The King of Hell watched the hooded warrior carefully now. Finally someone interesting. The battlefield had already fallen silent after the deaths of the two Grandmasters.
Blood soaked the forest floor beneath the ancient tree while terrified horses kicked nervously against the mud. None of the remaining soldiers dared move carelessly anymore.
Even the wind itself seemed quieter now.
Then the King of Hell slowly tilted his head. Crimson lightning crawled faintly across the surface of his demonic armor while the glowing face of the helmet fixed onto the final opponent.
"So this is the First Princess's favorite little pretty boy?" he asked mockingly.
A few soldiers nearly stopped breathing.
"To think of sending her bed warmer after me. Who does she think I am." He said arrogantly.
The Transcendent finally reacted. Without speaking a single word, he slowly drew his blade. The moment the sword fully left its sheath the world changed.
Hurricane level winds erupted violently outward around him. Trees bent under the sudden pressure while leaves exploded upward into the night sky like a storm of shattered emeralds.
The ground cracked beneath his feet. Several nearby horses screamed in panic and collapsed sideways from the pressure of his aura alone.
The soldiers immediately retreated backward in fear. Unlike the former Grandmasters, this man before him was truly monstrous. His unnaturally handsome face cold enough to resemble carved jade.
His expression never changed. His eyes carried neither anger nor fear. Only killing intent. The King of Hell answered his hurricanes with lightning. Crimson energy erupted across his armor instantly.
Red currents surged violently over the blood-colored spikes while his blade released shrill crackling sounds into the night air. The darkness itself seemed to turn red around him.
Then they moved. "Clash". The collision shattered the ground beneath them. Wind and lightning exploded outward in every direction as the two figures disappeared into blinding speed.
The soldiers could barely follow the battle anymore. They saw only flashes.
A crimson arc. A burst of wind. A black shadow. Explosions tearing through trees.
The Transcendent unleashed technique after technique with terrifying precision. Compressed storms formed around every strike of his sword.
The winds sharpened into invisible blades capable of cutting directly through armored men and thick tree trunks alike.
Entire trees were severed apart simply from the pressure waves of his attacks.
Yet the King of Hell moved differently.
Not like a warrior. Not like a human being.
Like liquid lightning itself. Every movement was unnaturally fast.
Every dodge flowed perfectly into the next motion without wasting even the slightest amount of energy. His body seemed to flicker across the battlefield like a crimson phantom.