Chương 288: 288：The Perfect Scapegoat and the Phantom Archer

The howling wind whipped the snow between the two men. Two heroes, belonging to different factions and harboring different ideals, bid each other farewell in the freezing night. Without another word, Alaric mounted his horse, leading his personal guards as they vanished into the vast night toward the Holy Halycon Empire. Watching Alaric and the elites of the Royal Griffin Knights disappear into the gloom, Soren slowly withdrew his gaze.

In a nearby tree hollow, Duran was carefully rubbing his mother's hands, trying his best to bring warmth to the suffering old woman.

"Duran, get ready to move," Soren said, stepping forward.

"Although the Orc command system in Abysswater Keep is temporarily paralyzed, their troops remain intact. Once the low-ranking officers recover from the shock, they will launch massive, indiscriminate sweeps across the area. We must push deep into the belly of the swamp before dawn."

"Yes, Lord Soren!" Duran immediately hoisted his mother onto his broad back, securing her tightly with strips of torn bedsheets. Just as Soren turned around, preparing to lead Lyra and Duran to exfiltrate under the cover of darkness... Ding! [System Prompt: 'Talent Scout' Triggered!] [High-Potential Warfare Talent detected within a 10-kilometer radius!] [Name: Felix] [Coordinates: Due North, 1, 500 meters. Moving rapidly toward your location.] Soren's footsteps halted.

His eyes narrowed, staring intently dead ahead. Felix! The destitute knight in the slum ruins, gripping a chipped sword and roaring with laughter as he willingly took the blame for the slave soldiers' assassinations! Soren's mind raced at lightning speed.

"Abysswater Keep is to the north... How did he end up wounded and driven all the way out here to the swamps outside the walls?" Connecting this to the bloodbath he had just orchestrated inside the Overlord's stronghold, a perfectly logical, chilling truth surfaced in his mind:"Every senior Orc Overlord is dead. The surviving low- and mid-tier officers desperately need a scapegoat to shirk responsibility and appease the wrath of the High Command!"

"And Felix—an assassin already carrying a hundred-gold bounty for hunting Orc officers across the city—is an absolute godsend of an excuse for them!" Having deduced the truth, Soren didn't hesitate for a microsecond. He couldn't just stand by and watch a hot-blooded warrior—a man with the sheer guts to operate alone behind enemy lines—be butchered by alien blades!

"Lyra!" Soren spun around, violently ripping the dirty rags off his longbow as an icy killing intent flared.

"One o'clock. A human compatriot is being hunted by Orcs. With me!"

"Duran, stay hidden in this crevice with your mother. No matter what happens, do not come out!" Dropping that final order, Soren and Lyra blurred into motion, melting seamlessly into the howling blizzard and the pitch-black night....... Meanwhile, at the base of the ruined outer wall, less than 1, 500 meters from Soren's position. Huff... Huff... Felix gasped for air, every breath accompanied by a ragged, agonizing wheeze from his lungs. His threadbare linen cloak was now entirely soaked in dark blood.

Embedded deep in his left ribcage was the broken half of a black iron short spear. Its vicious barbs hooked securely into his flesh, violently tearing at his nerves with every staggering step he took. Less than a hundred meters behind him, a winding chain of torches illuminated the night, accompanied by the blood-curdling barks of demonic tracking hounds and the chaotic, thunderous footfalls of Orc soldiers.

"Fuck... Are these Orcs possessed?!" Felix leaned heavily against a collapsed section of the wall, using his two-handed knight's greatsword—which had already lost its pommel—as a crutch. He coughed up a massive mouthful of black blood, feeling an incredibly suffocating sense of injustice. Half an hour ago, following an infiltration plan he had meticulously crafted over several days, he had quietly slipped near a drainage hole behind the Overlord's stronghold.

He had intended to wait until the banquet reached its climax and Overlord Nak was dead drunk, then slip inside and claim the bastard's life. But before he could even squeeze through the hole, the main doors of the stronghold were violently obliterated from the inside! Immediately after, a chaotic, terrified tidal wave of Orc soldiers poured out, frantically screaming, "The Overlord is dead!" and "His head was shot off!" Felix had been completely stunned.

He hadn't even laid eyes on Nak, so how the hell was the Overlord already dead? However, during that brief moment of sheer bewilderment, an Orc patrol carrying torches had bumped straight into him. The Orc captain's eyes lit up as if he had found his absolute savior. He roared at the top of his lungs: "It's him! The wanted fugitive, Felix! He's the one who shot an arrow through the Overlord's head! Get him!" Felix didn't even have a fraction of a second to explain.

At that exact moment, the Orcs didn't need the truth; they just needed a head they could hang from the city gates to close the case. Thus, completely framed for a crime he didn't commit, he fought his way out, suffering countless slashes and strikes, until he was brutally driven out of Abysswater Keep and surrounded in the swamps. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"What absolute dog-shit luck..." Felix spat out another mouthful of bloody froth.

"But hey... going down as the assassin who killed the Overlord? I guess this life wasn't a total waste!" Felix looked at the dozen elite Black Iron Orcs fanning out to encircle him, listening to the chaotic blare of horns drawing closer from the distance. He knew the main force would seal this area entirely within minutes. There was no escape. Cough... Cough... Felix wiped the blood from his mouth and firmly gripped the hilt of his greatsword with both hands.

Even though the blade was heavily chipped and his stamina was entirely spent, his battle-lust burned furiously, and the hands gripping the sword were as steady as bedrock. He was an orthodox-trained noble knight. Even if his house had fallen into ruin, his pride absolutely forbade him from being cowardly hacked down from behind.

"Come on! You Green-skin bastards!" Felix slowly forced his battered body to stand ramrod straight. He unleashed a feral, deafening roar, fully prepared to launch the final knight's charge of his life! The Black Iron Orc Decurion leading the pack sneered sadistically. Hoisting his massive battleaxe, he took heavy, aggressive strides forward.

"A bug struggling on its deathbed! I'm going to chop off your limbs and drag you back for the bounty!" The colossal axe swung high into the air, howling as it tore through the blizzard, cleaving directly toward Felix's face! Just as Felix raised his chipped sword to brace for the devastating impact... TWANG! A harrowing, high-pitched sonic boom violently exploded through the blizzard! Across the night sky, a streak of cyan wind mana tore through the darkness like a falling comet! SQUELCH!

The Orc Decurion, his axe raised and a sadistic grin plastered across his face, violently froze. A refined-steel armor-piercing arrow, wreathed in violent wind pressure, flawlessly penetrated his right temple! Its tyrannical kinetic force punched clean through his thick skull, sending a grotesque plume of red blood and white brain matter erupting from the left side of his head! THUD. Without even having the chance to scream, the towering, two-meter-tall Decurion crashed stiffly to the ground right at Felix's feet.

"Who's there?!" The dozen surviving Orc soldiers paled in absolute terror, frantically raising their shields and warhammers as they scanned their surroundings. Through the blizzard, a tall, unyielding black silhouette radiating a suffocating, majestic aura stepped slowly out of the night. Soren stood atop a low crest less than fifty meters away. His eyes glowed with an abyssal blue light, and the [Windwhisper Bow] in his hands was drawn to an absolute full moon. He didn't utter a single word.

Backed by the monstrous, terrifying strength of his [Faint Titan Bloodline], Soren's hands blurred into untraceable afterimages. THWIP! THWIP! THWIP! The rapid, shuddering thrum of the bowstring echoed like the relentless tolling of a death knell.

"Defensive formation! Shields up!" The Orcs had barely screamed their orders before a deluge of heavy arrows, enchanted with tri-layered cyan wind runes, rained down upon them! The iron-banded wooden shields gripped by the standard Orcs were like wet paper before the apocalyptic piercing power of the high-tier elven longbow. CRACK! SQUELCH! The arrows effortlessly shredded the shields, punching clean through the massive chests of the Orcs hiding behind them.

In the span of just three breaths, five Orcs were firmly nailed to the permafrost by sheer kinetic tyranny, struggling briefly before swallowing their last breaths. Just as the surviving Orcs, their hearts consumed by terror, attempted to launch a desperate charge toward Soren's high ground...

"Don't even think about disturbing my Lord." A cold, emotionless female voice drifted from mid-air. Lyra vaulted silently from a ruined section of the wall directly above the Orcs. Her radiant silver hair traced a breathtaking arc under the moonlight, accompanied instantly by a tempest of shrieking silver flashes! Swish! Swish! Swish! Her [Throwing Knife Master] talent was displayed in its absolute, terrifying entirety. Lyra's blades completely ignored the Orcs' thick breastplates and helmets.

Instead, flying low to the ground at wicked, impossible angles, they surgically targeted the highly vulnerable joints behind their knees and ankles!

"Aaagh! My legs!"

"My Achilles tendons are severed!" Amidst harrowing, agonizing howls, five or six Black Iron Orcs who had been bracing to charge simultaneously collapsed face-first into the snow. Stripped of the support of their legs, their multi-hundred-pound bodies instantly turned them into lambs awaiting slaughter. Standing tall and unyielding upon the crest, Soren smoothly lowered his longbow. THWIP! THWIP! THWIP! Flawless, methodical execution shots.

Every single arrow struck with pinpoint precision, sinking deep into the back of the skulls or the cervical vertebrae of the fallen Orcs, completely extinguishing their lives. Start to finish, the engagement lasted barely a dozen breaths! The squad of elite Orcs that had driven Felix to the absolute brink of death just moments ago were now entirely reduced to bloody corpses littering the snow. Not a single one survived.