Chapter 50: The Beautiful, Powerful, and Tragic Cannon Fodder Villain—My Father Is a King, Part 3

At that moment, the brief respite within the arena had ended, and four figures were once again locked in fierce combat. The two stronger youths bore even graver wounds; even joining forces, they could only fight Little Jiang and Qin Bing to a standstill. In theory, their partnership should have given them the upper hand, but while Little Jiang and Qin Bing entrusted each other with their very lives without hesitation, the other two fought while guarding against betrayal from within.

By the end, all traces of the assassin skills drilled into them during training had been cast aside; now, it was sheer willpower that kept them moving. Their movements reverted to something primal, resembling nothing more than ordinary children tussling in a playground brawl.

A soft, chilling sound rang out as a blade pierced flesh. The allied pair collapsed to the ground, struck in vital spots, no longer able to continue. Of those left, only Little Jiang retained a sliver of strength.

Qin Bing’s wound at his waist remained untreated; even without considering the new injuries he’d sustained, blood loss alone was making his vision swim. As his sight blurred, a smile appeared on his lips. How wonderful—the last one standing was Little Jiang.

Qin Bing finally relaxed.

“Hey, Little Bing, the fight’s not over yet. You can’t fall asleep now,” came Little Jiang’s voice.

Qin Bing forced his eyes open. New figures had appeared before him: a woman dressed all in black, and a stern-faced middle-aged man who seemed vaguely familiar.

The black-clad woman’s gaze was frigid and contemptuous. “So this is the young master of Swordsmith Manor? What a useless wretch! You’ve brought shame to your father!”

By “your father,” Qiu Lingsu was not referring to the master of Swordsmith Manor, but to Yan Wushuang. Yet Qin Bing assumed she meant his own father, and the confusion in his eyes cleared instantly.

“Who are you?”

“Me? I’m the one who saved your life. Without me, you’d be rotting alongside the rest of Swordsmith Manor’s corpses.”

Qin Bing’s eyes filled with tears. “My father isn’t dead. He’ll find me. He promised me that no matter what happened, wherever I was, he’d come for me.”

His unwavering conviction in his father’s promise ignited a furious rage in Qiu Lingsu. “Your father is long dead! You have no father. And you, as a useless wretch, don’t even have the chance to avenge him!”

“You’re lying.”

Qin Bing was so weak that even his voice was barely audible, yet his tone was unyielding, as if nothing could shake his faith.

As his birth mother, Qiu Lingsu knew better than anyone who his father was. Hearing him speak so highly of that man sent a surge of fury straight to her head—she wanted nothing more than to kill him with a single blow.

“I told you, your father is dead! Not even a grave to mark him. Do you hear me?”

“My father isn’t dead.”

With a violent sweep of her hand, Qiu Lingsu sent the fragile Qin Bing flying. He crashed to the ground, coughing up mouthfuls of blood.

“He died by Yan Wushuang’s hand,” she said, her voice ice-cold.

As Qin Bing was struck down, Little Jiang couldn’t hold back any longer. He rushed forward to catch him, unceremoniously shoving all his precious life-saving pills into Qin Bing’s mouth. He clamped a hand over Qin Bing’s lips to silence him, afraid the madwoman in black might be provoked further.

“You care about him a lot?” Qiu Lingsu asked.

Little Jiang didn’t reply, but she suddenly threw back her head in laughter. When the laughter died, her eyes chilled once more. “Qin Bing, I’ll give you a chance. A chance to avenge all one hundred and twenty-seven lives of Swordsmith Manor.”

With a flick of her wrist, she used her inner strength to toss a dagger, landing it before Qin Bing.

“Pick it up. Kill him. Kill him and you’ll be the last one standing. I will grant you the finest resources, teach you the supreme martial arts of my sect. Only then will you have a chance to take revenge on Yan Wushuang, the world’s greatest swordsman.”

The “him” she spoke of was Little Jiang.

However, Qin Bing ignored her entirely. He looked steadfastly at Little Jiang. “My father will come for me. He promised me—no matter what happens, no matter where I am, he’ll find me.”

Little Jiang hummed in response, the smile fading from his face. He summoned the last of his inner strength to stabilize Qin Bing’s organs, shaken by Qiu Lingsu’s blow. His gaze grew determined.

They could not resist Qiu Lingsu. She was undoubtedly a top master of the martial world. Among their peers, neither of them was the best—let alone a match for someone like her.

Little Jiang had foreseen this moment. If only one of them could survive, he would choose Qin Bing. He had no family; the only person he’d ever called kin, the old beggar, had died long ago—and even the heroic wanderer who’d killed the old beggar was now dead, too.

Little Jiang had little attachment to this world; at first, he’d only wanted to live. If there was no chance left to keep living, then at least his death should have some meaning.

He bent and picked up the dagger.

“Fool. Worthless wretch. I should have strangled you at birth rather than let you live to this day!” Qiu Lingsu cursed coldly, her hand clenched beneath her sleeve, yet she only watched as Little Jiang picked up the dagger.

To be trained as a killer, yet naively trust another, handing over your life to someone just like yourself—how could anyone be so stupid? Well, if such trash isn’t even worthy of being a weapon, then let him die. She would keep his corpse intact, deliver it herself to Yan Wushuang, and let father and son be reunited!

Qin Bing saw Little Jiang pick up the dagger, but his expression didn’t change in the slightest.

Little Jiang sighed. “Don’t you understand yet? In this training, only one of us is meant to survive.”

“Little Jiang, when my father comes, just tell him you are me.”

The urge to laugh choked Little Jiang; to think Qin Bing could still say such things in his dying breaths made him feel both helpless and unwilling to part. If he died, what would become of this fool? But what choice did he have?

When the old beggar died, he’d gripped Little Jiang’s hand tightly, afraid he’d go after the martial hero recklessly and lose his own life. All Little Jiang could do was watch the old beggar die in his arms.

And now, it was Little Bing.

Little Jiang shoved the dagger into Qin Bing’s hand.

Qin Bing’s eyes widened, realizing what Little Jiang intended and struggling in protest, but he had no strength left.

“Little Bing, she’s right. A killer who feels is worthless. Your weakness is me. If I die, you’ll have no more weakness, and you won’t be useless anymore.”

Even the supervisor was startled, somewhat moved. Their doctrine for these youths was absolute selfishness—everything for the mission, the mission being to kill, drilled into them relentlessly. The way they had turned on each other without hesitation was proof of the training’s effectiveness.

But there were always exceptions. Pairs like Little Jiang and Qin Bing, though rare, had appeared at other branches. Sometimes, if two made it to the end together, the supervisor might let them both live.

But here, the decision was not his to make.

The more wicked and ruthless a villain, the more they longed for righteous, loyal souls around them. That’s why they admired such good, loyal children.

Qin Bing’s struggling was futile; he was still conscious, still alive, thanks to the life-saving pills Little Jiang had managed to get from a friendly steward.

“Little Jiang…”

“Call me brother, show some respect.”

“…Brother…”

“Don’t be sad. I’m just turning into a star in the sky. I’m still here.”

Little Jiang smiled again, this time with genuine warmth, and for a moment, his blood-stained face was strikingly vivid and beautiful.

Clasping the dagger together, they drove it straight toward the youth’s heart. But a sudden gust knocked the dagger aside.

“Who’s there?” Qiu Lingsu whipped around, inner strength surging as she lashed toward the source of the wind.

Qin Ye stopped and gasped for breath. Damn this place, twisting and turning like a maze.

He’d only gone down the mountain for a grilled fish, and almost didn’t make it back in time. The real reason for his near delay was this labyrinthine lair. Built right into the mountain, riddled with traps.

And Xiao San refused to give him any cheat codes, so he had to blast his way through. Really, would it kill Xiao San to give him a little navigation? He’d been breaking in for so long—couldn’t they at least guide him right to his kid?

As team leader, shouldn’t he have that much authority? How infuriating!

“It’s you! You’re still alive?” Qiu Lingsu recognized him instantly—a man so stunning that even other men had to admit it.

A good man. A damned good man.

“Father!” Qin Bing, summoning a last burst of strength, cried out.

Qin Ye grunted in response, cursing his own body’s instinctive reaction. He ignored Qiu Lingsu and dashed to the boys. Though he was unsure which one was truly his son, he hesitated not at all.

Children make choices; adults take it all. He swept up both boys.

Before scooping them up, he drew the sword Tai’e from his back and slashed at Qiu Lingsu with what seemed a casual stroke.

At first, she sneered in contempt, but as the blade passed, invisible sword energy exploded out, impossibly sharp and swift.

Her heart lurched. Alarms blared in her mind—if she didn’t dodge now, she would die. She couldn’t block it; she could only avoid.

Qiu Lingsu managed to evade, but the supervisor was less fortunate. Before his brain could even process it, his eyes saw his own back, and then everything went black.

The entire underground chamber began to shudder violently from that one strike. The space was collapsing.

Qin Ye had anticipated this. After all, he had smashed his way straight down here. The fact that the chamber was only now caving in spoke to the masterful skill of the builders—otherwise, it would have collapsed long ago.

And with that, he swept up the children and fled as the world crumbled behind them.