The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 409: Not Afraid of Death
Chapter 409 - 409: Not Afraid of Death
Half a month passed in the blink of an eye, and the day to meet the Kingslayer alliance arrived. They claimed they would climb Mount Oracle and destroy the stone statue of Oracle King.
In the past half-month, the people of the US were seething with rage and frustration. Desperation clung to them like a second skin. How much they wished it were all a nightmare from which they could awaken. But as they watched forces from all over the world rush toward Mount Oracle, they knew this was no dream—this was reality.
The King of Horizon was dead.
Now, his statue—the final symbol of strength—was going to be destroyed by the Kingslayer alliance.
For the people of the US, this was their last line of defense. If this defense crumbled, they couldn't fathom how they could ever restore the faith that had been shattered.
This feeling? It could only be called despair.
Countless forces were gathering, the turmoil centered around Mount Oracle. The frenzy of activity was even greater, more violent, more unstoppable than the previous upheaval on the small island in the Pacific. The world was determined to witness this historic moment.
On that fateful day, the mountains surrounding Mount Oracle were packed with people. Every inch of the mountainside, from the base to the summit, was filled. Snow was buried under the sea of bodies.
All eyes were fixed on the solitary peak, on the magnificent snow-white statue that stood alone against the sky. Everyone was waiting with bated breath—everyone except the people of the US.
The thirty-six guardians of the Oracle Palace were already there, their faces grim and unmoving. They stood like statues themselves, simply watching as the Kingslayer alliance members ascended the mountain without interference.
The scene was beyond expectation.
This statue on top of the mountain represented their king. Now, their king was about to be humiliated, and yet, the Oracle Palace showed no reaction. Their indifference was incomprehensible. It made no sense.
Could it be that with the death of the Oracle King, the spirit of the Oracle Palace had been obliterated as well?
"Haha, is this the Oracle Palace? A group of cowards!" A mocking voice rang out from a peak nearly a hundred meters away from Mount Oracle. Laughter echoed across the mountains, shaking loose a flurry of snow.
A tall, imposing figure stood on the snow-covered peak, Excalibur—the sword that once belonged to the Oracle King—resting on his shoulder. It was Alex Watson.
The moment the King of Gods from the Kingslayer alliance appeared, he immediately drew a wave of awe and exclamations from the crowd. The martial artists of the Kingslayer alliance revered him like a god.
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Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Following Alex, nearly a hundred more figures appeared on the nearby peaks. The air shimmered with their terrifying aura, leaving everyone stunned.
There were... nearly a hundred soul realm warriors?
The onlookers trembled, their hearts racing as they gasped for breath. Shock filled their eyes.
In the past, creating even a single soul realm warrior had been an immense feat. Yet, ever since Britain had perfected genetic modification, nearly a hundred soul realm warriors had been created in the blink of an eye.
This was enough to completely reshape the power dynamics of the martial world.
With such overwhelming strength, who would dare challenge the Kingslayer alliance again in the future?
The Oracle Palace?
Indeed, as Alex had just pointed out, the Oracle Palace was nothing more than a hollow shell in the face of the Kingslayer alliance.
Any soul realm warrior from the Kingslayer alliance would easily crush anything the Oracle Palace could offer.
It was clear why the Oracle Palace had not resisted.
They simply didn't have the power to fight back.
But the Oracle Palace's capitulation didn't stop the feelings of injustice.
Martial artists from the US were filled with immense frustration, disillusioned by the Oracle Palace's inaction.
The Oracle Palace, which had once been regarded as the protector of the US, had been reduced to a broken shell after the fall of the King of Horizon. Worse yet, they had surrendered without a fight, allowing the Kingslayer alliance to do whatever they pleased.
In defiance, a group of martial artists from the US formed a resistance line on the mountainside of Mount Oracle, attempting to block the Kingslayer alliance's ascent.
Though they knew it was futile—there was no way the Kingslayer alliance's masters would be stopped—they stood their ground. This was about something greater than life or death.
It was a stand.
It was a refusal to let their faith be destroyed.
"We're not afraid to die!" they shouted, their voices filled with raw emotion. "We stand here for the dignity of the US! We won't let them destroy the statue of our king!"
"We've been protected by the Majesty King for so long, now it's our turn to protect him. If death is what it takes, then it is an honor to die for him!"
A passionate roar echoed through the air as the group of martial artists rallied. They were resolute, unafraid of the inevitable. Death would not deter them from standing their ground.
Quilty Cooper, one of the thirty-six guardians of the Oracle Palace, watched them in silence. His heart wavered, but he held back his emotions and bellowed, "Everyone from the US, disperse! Don't make pointless sacrifices!"
"Pointless sacrifices?" one of the rebellious martial artists retorted. "What do you mean by pointless? We're defending the dignity of the US! How can it be pointless?"
The Oracle Palace had completely broken their trust. But the people of the US? They stood unyielding.
The realization hit Quilty and the others, but rather than feeling anger or bitterness, they felt something else.
Look at them.
This is what our king would have wanted to see.
The US was never one country, nor a country of a few people. Whether it was the King of Horizon or the Oracle Palace, their powers had limits.
The prosperity of the US had always depended on the strength and spirit of its people—their resilience, their unyielding will.
The martial artists from the US were a testament to this strength: stubborn, tenacious, and not afraid of death.
