The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 226: Kill Them All
Chapter 226 - 226: Kill Them All
The mercenaries were just now realizing the magnitude of the trouble they had stirred.
Why were the Oracle Generals here?!
They had been assassinating those reporters within their own borders. It had nothing to do with the Oracle—or so they had believed.
But clearly, the situation was far more complicated than they had imagined.
The Oracle wasn't here to talk. They were here to kill.
Had one of the reporters they injured or killed been someone important to the Oracle?
Otherwise, why had the martial artists arrived so swiftly to rescue them?
There could be only one explanation.
The Oracle had known all along that the reporters were being hunted. One of them must have been very important.
A cold dread ran down the mercenaries' spines.
The Oracle was not just any organization—it was the most feared, most revered power in the world.
If they stormed into the Texas capital to make a statement, the senior leaders there might just sacrifice the mercenaries themselves to avoid sparking an international incident—especially if the Oracle King got involved.
Texas was no longer safe.
All the mercenaries had the same thought: We need to get out.
But there was no time to plan.
Right now, their only concern was how to survive the wrath of the Oracle Generals.
Luckily for them, they were very familiar with this rainforest. Even against terrifying opponents, they could at least try to use the terrain to their advantage—to hide, to escape.
But they had underestimated the scale of the problem.
At that moment...
A monstrous force approached.
It was John.
He was closing in fast—tracking Kate through the resonance of the Mind Circle.
"Kate!"
John leapt from his motorcycle and ran toward her. The Oracle members nearby let out cries of joy:
"Your Highness!"
John didn't answer. He dropped to his knees beside Kate and quickly examined her wound.
He sighed in relief.
She had been shot in the left shoulder, but the bullet had already been removed. The injury wasn't fatal.
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She had passed out from the pain.
Then John's gaze shifted to another figure lying nearby—Tristan.
"Is he—?" John's face turned grim.
He rushed over, knelt beside Tristan, and placed two fingers on the man's neck.
Too late.
"Your Highness..." one Oracle member began, "He protected your sister until the very end. He was shot four times. By the time we arrived... he took his last breath."
John remained silent.
He stared down at Tristan's body.
They hadn't been close. In fact, they'd had their share of grudges—especially over the Branton family incident.
But none of that mattered now.
It was undeniable—Tristan had died a hero.
John had been the one to ask him to protect Kate. Without that request, Tristan might still be alive.
He owed the man everything.
After a long silence, John stood up. His expression was cold, yet regal—his eyes filled with dangerous intent.
"Give him a grand funeral," he said.
Then he looked around. "Where is Linen?"
"The generals are still chasing down the Texas mercenaries," one man answered.
Before the sentence was finished, John shot into the sky, floating midair.
From above, he peered down at the rainforest—like a predator hunting prey.
With the power of his Lucifer's Eyes, nothing could hide from him.
Soon...
He spotted several mercenaries attempting to hide in the trees.
Whoosh!
In an instant, John swooped down, grabbed one of the mercenaries by the neck, and soared back into the air.
Tear—
The man was ripped in half midair.
Blood rained down from the sky.
John's face remained stone cold as he tossed the corpse aside and dived again.
Another mercenary. Another brutal tear.
"Ahhh!"
Agonizing screams echoed through the forest canopy.
Linen and the others, chasing their own targets, looked up through the foliage.
When they saw the commanding figure hovering above—the Oracle King—they exploded with emotion.
"Our King! It's the Oracle King!"
"Our King is here!"
The mercenaries, pale and trembling, were on the brink of collapse.
It was him.
The very man who had once broken through a siege and forced the Texas capital into submission.
There was no turning back.
They were doomed.
"Ahh!"
"Ahhh—"
More screams filled the air.
From their hiding places, the remaining mercenaries watched—helpless—as their companions were torn limb from limb.
They couldn't even look away from the blood-soaked nightmare unfolding before them.
Bang!
One of the mercenaries, panicked beyond reason, instinctively pulled the trigger.
A bullet shot toward John.
But it never reached him.
It was deflected effortlessly by an invisible aura surrounding him.
Then John turned—his cold eyes locked on the shooter.
He dived.
Snatch. Tear.
The mercenary's body split in two, dissolving into a mist of blood in the humid jungle air.
The others stood frozen, drenched in sweat, terror-stricken beyond belief.
If only we could go back in time...
But it was too late.
The slaughter had begun. There was no escape.
One by one, they fell—shredded by the wrath of the Oracle King.
Only when the last mercenary was ripped apart did John finally descend, standing silently amid the carnage.
The air was thick with the stench of blood—mingled with the scent of wet earth.
And then...
Silence.
Dead silence.
