033 Slaying Perik

Although Karen had not known Perick for long, he understood him rather well. To be frank, Perick’s methods in handling affairs revealed a certain cunning, and his greatest strength as the main person in charge of this mission was undoubtedly his commercial acumen. Yet Perick had a fatal flaw: his arrogance. It would be unfair to call him narrow-minded, but he was most certainly proud—proud to the point of vanity. He looked down on Karen, and perhaps even held little respect for Old Jack.

But that was not the crucial point. What mattered was that Karen had set his sights precisely on Perick’s pride. The more Perick scorned him, the more delighted Karen became, for it made it all the easier to unbalance him and strip away his reason. From the moment Old Jack confessed everything, Karen had begun, both overtly and covertly, to provoke Perick—deliberately fanning the flames of anger within him, waiting for the right moment to ignite them. It was not a particularly sophisticated tactic, but it was certainly effective.

Sure enough, when Perick arrived with reinforcements, brimming with confidence that he could suppress Karen—only to be outmaneuvered and bested—he was finally goaded beyond endurance. In that instant, he lost all reason, his mind filled with a single thought: He would never let this wretch climb above him!

“Kill him! Kill that wretch for me!”

As Perick roared in fury, Karen turned at just the right moment, the hilt of his iron sword at his waist ‘accidentally’ knocking against him. Immediately, the sword caught Perick’s eye. He could tell at a glance that Karen’s sword was no ordinary weapon. But precisely because it was so fine, Perick’s reason was further shattered; Old Jack must have placed great hopes in Karen to entrust him with such a blade. Perhaps Karen truly could rise above him.

That thought sent a red haze over Perick’s vision. Without another word, he snatched the sword from Karen’s waist and swung it at him without hesitation.

At the very moment Perick attacked, Karen’s lips curled in a satisfied smile: ‘At last, he has taken the bait!’

Yet Karen did not immediately counter. Instead, he shifted his body slightly, allowing the blade to slash into his own shoulder. Only when blood spattered did Karen whirl around, seizing Perick’s hands on the sword, sweeping Perick’s legs out from under him, and twisting his own grip before letting go and retreating several steps.

The three men led by Glenn watched in shock as Perick, clutching Karen’s sword, crashed to the ground. By a stroke of fate, the blade sliced clean through Perick’s throat, and blood gushed forth in torrents.

So sudden was this turn of events that Glenn and his companions were stunned speechless. Karen, however, reacted instantly. Clutching his bleeding left shoulder, he shouted angrily, “Aren’t you going too far? I am still a member of the Foresters! I’ve handed over my militia, I’ve bowed my head as much as I can, yet you still won’t leave me in peace!”

What was happening?

Glenn and the others were utterly bewildered. Since Karen and Perick had spoken in hushed voices, they had heard nothing and could make no sense of the situation. Worse still, before they could gather their wits, Old Jack entered. He had been keeping an eye on the meeting and, upon hearing Perick’s furious cry to kill Karen, had hurried inside.

Old Jack took in the scene: Karen bleeding profusely from his left shoulder, Perick lying dead in a pool of blood. His face darkened as he coldly demanded, “I want an explanation!”

Glenn and his companions could only gape in dismay—an explanation? They dearly wanted one themselves! But faced with Old Jack, none dared to be so bold. They were no fools; they understood full well the perilous complexity of the situation. Perick was not just acting for himself; he was the Moon-worship City’s appointed leader on this mission. Karen, on the other hand, represented the Foresters. Now that Perick had died attempting a failed ambush, they dared not speak rashly—one wrong word could spell disaster.

While they hesitated, Karen wasted no time. As the aggrieved party—his shoulder freshly wounded—he recounted the events, naturally painting himself in a favorable light.

Old Jack listened, his anger mounting. He rounded on Glenn and his companions, barking, “Very well! Perick, how dare you ambush a key member of the Foresters! And you three! What are you waiting for? Take his body back to Moon-worship City and tell Ryan to come up with a decent excuse for me!”

With no room for protest, Glenn and the others could only lift Perick’s corpse and leave, cowed by Old Jack’s icy gaze.

Once they had gone, Old Jack turned, his single remaining arm driving a fist into Karen’s abdomen, sending him flying two or three meters.

Karen coughed up blood as he landed, his face full of grievance. “Why—why did you do that? He attacked me—”

“Do you really take me for a fool?” Old Jack’s tone was frigid. “I may not know your exact methods, but I saw your provocations these past days quite clearly!”

Karen, stunned for a moment, then propped himself up, wiped the blood from his lips, and replied with a wry smile, “So, I couldn’t fool you after all.”

Old Jack’s anger flared. “I told you, this project is impossible for you!”

Karen laughed. “I didn’t deal with him for the sake of the project, but simply because I wanted to deal with him.”

“The first time I defied my so-called uncle, I crippled his limbs. I thought that was enough, that I’d gone far enough. Yet my aunt soon showed me it was nowhere near enough. The villagers I took in a few days ago—I knew some of them were troublemakers, but I didn’t deal with them right away. That’s why there was bloodshed a few days ago. Time and again, I’ve learned: if someone is your enemy, crush them—leave them no chance! If I didn’t kill Perick today, once this project succeeded, he might turn against me. To prevent trouble later, I had to act first.”

As Karen spoke with a smile, Old Jack’s eyes narrowed, as if seeing Karen anew.

“I never imagined you could become so ruthless in just two months!”

“Ruthless? I think I’m doing just fine.”

“Fine?” Old Jack sneered, then picked up the sword and pointed it at Karen’s throat. “Did you never consider the consequences of your actions?”

With the sword at his throat, Karen showed no fear, but only smiled. “I have, but I trust you won’t kill me.”