More than a dozen figures were sent flying across the courtyard, screaming in agony as they hit the ground. Blood spewed from their mouths as life left their bodies almost instantly.
“Mr. Thornton, even Mr. Wallace has betrayed us. You need to be careful!”
The last survivor clutched his chest and managed to get out a warning before his eyes bulged wide and he breathed his final breath.
Andrew’s expression grew sharp and alert. This man clearly possessed martial king-level combat ability and was one of Jerome’s trusted confidants. Yet, after just one exchange, he was already dead.
Goldridge’s martial world really played on another level. Not only were martial saints openly making moves, but they came in threes. Back in Blumedale, no matter how intense things got, they had never escalated to this scale.
“Dr. Lloyd, stay close. Even if I die today, I won’t let you get caught in the crossfire!”
Jerome stood tall and fearless. He gave Andrew a nod before stepping over the bodies of his fallen guards and walking straight toward the entrance of the side hall.
Andrew followed him out and immediately saw Zachary being held captive.
Eric was leading a team of fighters, engaged in battle with Scarlett and several other martial kings.
The entire Southern Martial Union headquarters had descended into chaos, filled with war cries and the clash of steel. What was once a clear sky now hung in a blood-red hue, thick with tension and killing intent.
Jerome stood at the heart of it all, facing down Henry and the two other martial saints.
“Mr. Thornton, are you enjoying the view?” Grace sneered with a raspy cackle, her voice grating and twisted.
Jerome ignored her and turned his gaze toward a specific direction. “Alex, we’ve been friends for years. I’ve always treated you fairly. So tell me, why?”
Alex chuckled darkly, his expression twisted. “You’re right, Jerome. You have treated me well. But I’m sorry, I’ve simply decided that I don’t care. You gave me a lot, sure. But you? You’re too rigid. Too self-righteous!
“This is the Southern Martial Union we’re talking about. We have so much power, so many resources! You could’ve split it into factions and ruled like a king with just one call! But instead? What did you do? You tied our hands with rules and codes and your damn morals!”
He hissed, “While we followed you around, you always had a rule for everything! Please! We train our entire lives for what? To stay poor and righteous while the world moves on? If everyone followed your path, acting all noble and uptight, then what’s the point of all our power? What’s the point of being better than the rest?”
Jerome stepped forward. His voice was calm but firm. “No. You’re wrong. We train and kill, yes… but that’s exactly why we must show restraint. The stronger you are, the greater your responsibility.”
He continued, “These past years, I’m not saying I’ve been perfect. But the Southern Martial Union has grown. Our martial artists have flourished. Hasn’t the entire region seen improvement?”
Alex barked, “Shut up! You’re making me sick! Don’t even get me started on that nonsense! I trained my whole life! Do you know how much I suffered? And in the end, you want me to serve others? To build a better martial world for them?”
He grumbled, “Sure, people worship you. They say the world’s better under your rule. But what about us? The ones at your side? We got nothing out of it! And the few scraps I tried to keep for myself? You punished me for that, too! I told you long ago that being too righteous would be your downfall.”
Jerome said nothing for a moment. His eyes dimmed with sadness. “So that’s how it is. That’s how all of you really see me… Then you’re right. Maybe I was never fit to be the union’s leader.”
Alex was about to lash out again when Andrew cut in first, voice dripping with contempt. “Alex, don’t assume everyone’s as greedy and shameless as you. Mr. Thornton led with honor. He brought prosperity to the Southern Martial Union for two whole decades, and the martial world of the South knows it. They remember it.”