Ceo In A Fantasy World - 223 Chapter 223

The dozen or so masked figures carried gigantic weapons, taller than their bodies. Some of them wielded spears, while others used bastard swords. Either way, the weapons didn’t match their relatively normal statures. Their movements were well executed, and it would appear that this development was within their expectation.

The front gates were tightly closed, and the nearby guards were unable to pry them open. No matter how much they shouted and squirmed, no response could be heard from the other side. Uneasiness and fear struck the hearts of the spoiled nobles as they observed the infiltrators in pertinent silence.

However, neither sides moved too drastically; both simply watched each other. Tazul seemed to know the identity of the others, so he merely stood behind his group of guards. The three-strong figures also stood around Tazul, protecting him in a diamond-like formation. His son stood even further back, attempting to coax the dukes and maidens that surrounded him.

Caesar watched all of this happen within a mere second, scanning the unruly and rampant surroundings. From what he could tell, the cloaked individuals would not be able to defeat Tazul and the three men, but they could certainly create a lot of chaos.

With this in mind, he took a few steps forward and pulled the confused Joe back to his table, so that they could sit down and enjoy the show. The current event was none of his business, nor would they have any reason to mess with him. Thus, he was merely a spectator with front row seats.

He filled his glass with wine from a nearby flagon and took a sip, the corner of his lips curling in the process. Joe grumbled for a few moments before he followed in suit, downing his entire flask in one gulp.

While they were relaxing, the surroundings could be considered anything but lax. The cloaked figures with massive weapons slowly crept closer and closer to the nobles. Of course, Tazul could not allow any mishaps to occur, so he ordered the guards to take a few steps forward.

Who knew how many enemies Limbo kingdom would create if their guests’ little daughters and sons were killed during a party that they hosted. Naturally, this was probably the main goal for the opposition. The “leader” of the group was slender and somewhat short, and a smile could be seen on his face, even though the shadow of the cloak.

“Tazul, Tazul, you who sits atop your lofty throne and watches as your citizens starve, work for meager copper coins, and are subjugated to work in the mines. Have you no shame?” The man asked. His voice was slightly immature, but it still held determination.

Tazul bellowed in laughter, “most of those “citizens” have either stolen from shops, quit their jobs, or produced children when they were not capable of raising them. My kingdom allows everyone to progress at the same pace, but those that are inept will inevitably fall.”

“The same pace? How laughable,” the man angrily commented, “the nobles are born with a silver spoon in their mouths, while the poor can barely afford schooling, let alone clothes and nutritional food. We are at an inherent disadvantage. There is no possible way for us to reach the top with the current system.”

Tazul waved his hand and ordered two of his special bodyguards to protect the front row of nobles. “They are only considered royalty due to their ancestors. Do you want the merits of the past to be washed away? How childish and simplistic.”

Tazul frowned and stomped the ground, “In the past, our kingdom was run by royalty, it is now, and will be in the future. Your antics will never work because nobody will stand beside you. The power is held in the hands of the competent, as all things should be.”

As he spoke to here, the group of cloaked figures brandished their weapons, causing the adventurers also to unsheath their blades. The women were escorted to the back of the ballroom, while the men were pushed to the front.

The unrest was rising to an all-time high until finally, the “rebels” initiated their attack. Instead of aiming for the warriors, they rushed toward the weak nobles, in an attempt to cause chaos. The guards and adventurers charged back, trying to defend their representatives.

Chaos immediately enveloped the entire room. Even the saintess was shocked and confused, unsure of what to do. She had never been trained to fight other humans, only monsters in the dark continent. She was not prepared to shed blood, nor was she capable of bearing witness to a massacre in plain sight.

A few of the stronger adventurers and guards unleashed their abundant mana, dazing the ordinary humans. Some of them possessed no affinity, but others used water, earth, fire, and even air. The two special bodyguards pulled down their cloak, revealing their aged faces. Both of them had a white beard that swayed left and right as they channeled their magic.

Their aura and presence were extraordinary, even knocking the glasses and tables over. The infiltrators found it hard to even approach the two figures, but their power was not to be scoffed at either. Five of them rushed toward the old men, cleaving their weapons down and distracting them.

The rest of the opponents ran toward the adventurers and regular guards, brandishing their weapons whilst licking their lips. Other than the old men, no one else in the room was a threat, or so they thought. Their confidence was through the roof as they finally reached the first line of guards, cutting downward.

Time seemed to stop as the huge sword moved downward, the guards looking in horror at its sheer might. It crept like a snail, inching closer and closer to the people. Its shadow slowly crept onto the ground, striking fear into the nearby pedestrians.

Bang! A loud collision resounded throughout the surroundings, and light invaded into the dark ballroom. The wind fluttered everyone’s clothes, causing them to look toward the now open gates.

An old and decrepit old man stood there. His wooden cane easily blocked the colossal weapon and blasted the infiltrator back. An amiable smile was plastered on his face as he chuckled, glancing at Tazul and the crowned prince.

“Hohoho, our face cannot be ruined by small rebels… to think that you would allow such a thing to happen, my son.” He spoke in a disappointed tone while casting a look of disapproval at Tazul, his presumed son.

In response, Tazul kneeled on the ground and cuffed his hands, “Father, why have you decided to show yourself?” he asked respectfully, pulling his son to the ground as well. It was clear that his father still held immeasurable power within the kingdom.

The old man scanned the room, his eyes landing on Caesar for a split second. “I had sensed something quite interesting at the slums, something that hasn’t shown itself in years… so I decided to come and check it out. Alas, I returned to this scene.” he responded with a small chuckle, not at all bothered by the group of infiltrators.

“But first, we must rid the room of non-noble filth… I’ve always disliked the smell of dogs,” The older man’s voice changed, and a sharp glint gleamed within his eyes. His cane moved like a spectral, halving the nearest cloaked figure.

Again and again, his cane moved, decapitating the dozen or so opponents within seconds. Leaving only the “rebel leader” left. Blood spurted from the necks like a fountain, dousing the ground in blood. The women squealed, and some even fainted.

Once that was done, the old man, without even breaking a sweat, walked toward Caesar. He left the “leader” alive for interrogation, but it was clear that he was much more interested in the white-haired youth in the corner of the room.

Sweat dripped from Caesar’s back as he inspected the older man. First, it was the king, which ended quite well. Then it was the strange infiltrators, which was weird, but acceptable. Now, a mysterious old man who reeked of blood and power approached Caesar. Confusion was apparent on Caesar’s face.

“Surely, this has got to be a misunderstanding…?”