Chapter 122: Human Heads
Chapter 122: Human Heads
Was Duke Babron too weak? Not exactly. Even the mightiest of players can stumble when burdened with a liability, especially one as significant as a barrel of oil.
It's not uncommon for one generation to produce outstanding individuals only for the next to falter. Everyone in the empire knows their king and Duke Babron, but who can name the king's son or Babron’s son? Most refer to him as just "Babron’s son."
Even the last great achievement credited to Babron’s son was actually a gift from his father. Ironically, this gift overshadowed the prince during his coming-of-age ceremony. Yet, no one could pin anything on Babron's son—no matter how hard they tried, it all seemed like a mere coincidence.
Babron’s son, in his eagerness to escape his father’s shadow, didn't make any significant mistakes. To be safe, he even brought skilled guards with him. With Katarina aiding him, they managed to acquire something crucial. Instead of being praised by his father, he was reprimanded upon his return, leaving him resentful.
Since then, he’s been confined to the Babron estate, but one cannot escape the inevitable. Unfortunately for him, on that particular day, the guards on duty were joined by Athena, who decided to participate on a whim. Sometimes, luck is a part of one’s strength.
“If my son is under suspicion, then I certainly won’t protect him,” Babron declared. “Director, since you have doubts about my parenting, feel free to take him away.”
Babron, seeing no other option, let his son be taken. It was time for the boy to learn a harsh lesson, to realize he couldn’t escape his father’s grasp.
Everything proceeded so smoothly that it raised Athena’s suspicions. She guessed that most of the evidence had already been destroyed by Babron; otherwise, why would he so readily hand over his only son?
Despite this, Athena knew she had made an enemy of Babron. Yet, their king would likely be pleased. They couldn’t use force against Babron’s son; simple questioning wouldn’t yield any useful information. Given his father's status, he could ignore any pressure.
From the start, this interrogation was just a formality. The king’s guards had already taken Babron’s son away, leaving Athena’s carriage waiting for her. It seemed their king didn’t want to leave this matter to Athena. He knew it was just a procedural step, so he preferred to keep Babron’s son under his control rather than leave him in Athena’s hands.
The king could never fully trust Athena. Over the years, the Eagle Claw Agency had slipped from his grasp. The key figures in the agency listened more to Athena than to him, as evidenced by the fate of all the directors he had sent to oversee the agency.
Athena didn’t mind; she only needed to maintain a balance between the two sides. In the open, their king was still the ruler of the empire. There were too many legitimate reasons to target him, too many resources to tarnish his reputation and make him a public enemy, a fugitive.
Babron was different. If he wanted to harm Athena, he’d have to do it covertly. Just like this time, the carriage stopped on a rural path.
Babron knew that an attack wouldn’t kill Athena. It might even cost many lives, but that didn’t matter to him. He wanted to teach her a lesson, a warning. He could simply blame it on a rogue group, knowing any investigation would lead nowhere.
Suddenly, the carriage halted, and the coachman’s urgent voice echoed outside. At that moment, dozens of shadows emerged, ghost-like figures swiftly approaching Athena’s carriage.
These attackers were highly skilled assassins, wielding various weapons and exuding a deadly aura. Their orders were clear: eliminate Athena!
Without any unnecessary words or hesitation, they launched their attack mercilessly. In an instant, blades clashed and sparks flew.
Inside the carriage, Athena drew a black axe and stepped out, just in time to deflect a sword aimed at the coachman’s throat.
Yuris stayed motionless inside, confident that Athena could handle the situation. However, witnessing Athena's reckless fighting style, showing no regard for the carriage, horses, or coachman, Yuris was alarmed and rushed out.
“Do you know how hard it is to find a coachman willing to work for the Eagle Claw Agency? Do you realize how expensive this carriage and these horses are?” Yuris shouted, clearly frustrated.
These attackers didn’t care; they only knew how to fight.
Facing the onslaught of dozens of men, Athena showed no fear. Her black axe gleamed, each swing bringing a gust of wind. Wherever the axe fell, blood splattered, and screams echoed.
Athena’s attacks were relentless, giving her enemies no room to breathe. Under her fierce assault, their formation began to falter, cracks appearing in their ranks.
“We’re just the first wave. There will be more, each stronger than the last. A lone wolf can’t stand against a pack of wolves,” one of the attackers said, but he was swiftly silenced by Athena’s axe.
With her relentless strikes, the number of attackers dwindled while her momentum only grew, dominating the battlefield.
Yuris guarded the carriage, swiftly killing anyone who tried to get close with her pen. Each of her victims fell, poisoned, frothing at the mouth, and turning purple.
Under Athena’s onslaught, the ambush was thwarted, and she calmly turned back to the carriage. But Yuris stopped her, pointing out the bloodstains on her clothes, which would dirty the carriage and incur a hefty cleaning fee.
The coachman, alone, drove the carriage back, while Athena and Yuris took a shortcut through the woods to avoid drawing attention.
As they walked, Athena suddenly grabbed Yuris’s arm. If she remembered correctly, they were near the church that revered feathers as sacred.
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