Chapter 383 - 132: Kill Lynch, Slay the Scoundrel

Chapter 383: Chapter 132: Kill Lynch, Slay the Scoundrel

"Fight our way out at all costs?" Angus sneered. He scanned his surroundings, and his voice suddenly rose, his face a mask of grief and fury as he roared.

"Brothers," he began, "before the master died, he used his last ounce of strength to tell me there is a traitor in our ranks! It was this very traitor who leaked our army’s marching route and troop deployments to Lynch! Otherwise, with our master’s strategic genius, how could we have fallen into such a trap?"

"So that’s what happened!"

"I knew it! The way we lost that battle was too suspicious!"

"A traitor... There must be a traitor!"

The crowd immediately erupted. In that moment, the Soldiers began to look at Morton strangely, their gazes filled with suspicion and uncertainty, tinged with hostility.

Morton was both shocked and furious, his face flushing beet-red. "It wasn’t me! Angus, you’re the traitor! You’re framing me!"

"We’ll find out if it’s you or not after a thorough interrogation." A cold glint flashed in Angus’s eyes. "Seize him!" he commanded.

"Yes, sir!"

Barton, the captain of Angus’s Personal Guard, acknowledged the order and immediately charged forward with his men.

A group of burly, elite Black Rock Beastmen clad in Black Rock Armor simultaneously drew their blades and surged toward Morton.

"Angus, you’re the real traitor! You’ll die a miserable death!"

Morton roared in fury, his eyes fixed on Angus and almost bursting with blood.

’I’m almost certain now. This Angus is definitely the traitor, or he wouldn’t be reacting like this!’

’No! I have to kill this traitor and avenge our master!’

Before Barton and the Black Rock Beastmen could surround him, Morton activated the raging bloodline of the Berserker within him.

In an instant, his eyes turned crimson and the muscles all over his body swelled visibly. He then gripped his War Axe with both hands and brought it crashing down on Barton, who was at the head of the charge.

The axe blade sliced through the air, kicking up a vicious gust.

"Still daring to resist?" A cold light flashed in Angus’s eyes. "Kill him! No mercy!"

The words had barely left his mouth.

He drew the Longsword from his hip, raised a finely crafted kite shield in his left hand, and charged into the fray like a bolt of lightning.

Ever since unburdening his heart and pledging allegiance to Lynch and the Seventh Prince, Angus’s mind had cleared. He felt a renewed craving for power. Even his strength, long stagnant, had burst forth after this period of accumulation, and was now growing with astonishing speed.

Although he had yet to reach mid-Tier Four, he was no longer far from it.

CLANG!

A deafening clash of metal on metal rang out.

Morton’s War Axe crashed directly against Angus’s kite shield. The immense force of the impact sent a numbing shock up his arm, forcing him to stumble back half a step.

It was a momentary opening!

Barton and the other Personal Guards immediately seized the opportunity to attack. In an instant, a storm of flashing blades assailed him from all sides.

SQUELCH! SQUELCH!

Though Morton fought valiantly, besieged by multiple skilled opponents, several new wounds soon appeared on his body, deep enough to expose bone.

Fresh blood poured from the gashes, quickly staining his body crimson.

"Angus Fisher! You despicable bastard! I’ll haunt you from beyond the grave!"

Morton panted heavily, his bloodshot eyes locked on Angus. In their depths lay despair and indignation, but more than anything, a bone-deep hatred.

Seeing Barton and the Personal Guards attack again, he sent two of them flying with a Horizontal Sweep of his War Axe. Then, tightening his grip, he mustered all the Aura in his body for one last, desperate charge at Angus.

’Even if I die, I’m taking Angus with me!’

However, exhausted and his mind reeling, he failed to notice that he had unwittingly left a massive opening.

A cold glint appeared in Angus’s eyes. His Longsword shot out like a bolt of lightning, piercing straight through Morton’s throat.

"Ugh... hhh..."

Morton’s eyes widened as he stared fixedly at Angus. Bloody froth bubbled from his open mouth. He seemed to want to say something, but no sound would come out.

THUD!

Morton’s body crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Angus raised his blood-stained sword and scanned the crowd, his voice loud and resolute. "Now, I will rally the army to avenge Master Blood Hand and our fallen brothers! Who here agrees, and who objects?"

After a brief silence, the three hundred-odd surviving Soldiers who had served under Johnny raised their weapons and began to shout, "Revenge! Revenge!"

"Avenge the master!"

"Kill Lynch Blackwood!"

Angus nodded in satisfaction.

He then moved quickly.

These three hundred-odd Soldiers who had survived the battle at Gray Claw Gorge were, without exception, the elite of the elite.

Angus quietly broke up their units and integrated them into his own, mixing them with his original troops. This not only boosted his army’s overall combat effectiveness but also prevented the new recruits from banding together and causing trouble.

「Three days later.」

Angus, under the banner of "Avenge Master Blood Hand," began to sweep through the territories previously occupied by Johnny, clearing them out one stronghold at a time.

"Open the gates! By the last command of Master Blood Hand, Lord Angus Fisher is taking command of this post!"

The garrisons in these small towns and fortresses were mostly unaware that Johnny was dead. Faced with Angus, who acted like an imperial envoy carrying out his master’s last wish, they didn’t dare resist.

Those who submitted willingly, Angus absorbed and reorganized on the spot, adjusting the local garrisons and replacing the original officers with his own confidants.

If he encountered anyone who was defiant or questioned the cause of Johnny’s death, Angus would simply label them a "traitor" and have them publicly executed as a warning to others.