Venerable Demon King & The Doting Immortal (QT) novel Chapter 470

Chapter 470: Getting drunk

Han Xin tightened his grip on the hilt of Bloodreaver, the blade glinting ominously. "Xiang Lin," he called out, his voice resonating in the cold air.

"For your treasonous acts against the late imperial Lord of the Republic and his imperial empress, I hereby sentence you to death. Your body will be incinerated, and your ashes will be scattered in the lower city junkyard. There will be no grave, no mound for you to be remembered by. You will forever be forgotten."

He didn’t care to ask if Xiang Lin had any last words. The air felt heavy with anticipation, tension crackling like a live wire. Xiang Lin sat slumped against the wall, his eyes vacant, as a tear traced its way down his weathered face.

In those final moments, when one ought to reflect on a life lived, Xiang Lin saw only the face of his beloved Xing Xing. Her laughter echoed in his mind like a sweet melody, so far removed from the horror of the present. If there was another life, he thought, if he were granted a second chance, he would cherish her. He would never hurt her. He would never repeat the same mistakes.

Without hesitation, Han Xin swung the blade. The execution was swift and merciless. Xiang Lin’s body fell limp, his head rolling grotesquely before finally settling on the ground.

Standing tall, Han Xin straightened up, the weight of the deed hanging heavy in the silence. He pulled out a handkerchief, meticulously wiping the blade clean as an icy calm enveloped him.

"Let it be known that any betrayal in the future will not be tolerated," he declared, his voice icy. "As the imperial Lord, I will personally deal with traitors."

Behind the screens across the Republic, men and women felt their blood run cold, fear gripping them like a vice. The reality of Han Xin’s unforgiving nature was laid bare for all to see.

He tossed the bloody handkerchief to the ground and turned away, his back to the horror behind. Moments later, Maurice and another man entered to clean up the aftermath, a gory ritual that marked the end of Xiang Lin.

In less than an hour, as the sun ambled toward the horizon, his ashes would be scattered in the barren junkyard of the lower city, a finality that silenced his once-vibrant essence.

In that cold, merciless way, the legacy of betrayal was erased, but the reverberations of it would linger, echoing through the corridors of power in the Republic.

Han Xin stepped out of the execution chamber, Bloodreaver clasped tightly in his hand. The weight of the sword felt both empowering and burdensome. He handed it to his cousin, Han Zhan, whose brow furrowed slightly as he accepted the blade.

"What now?" Han Zhan asked, taking a moment to register the gravity of the situation.

"Acquire the services of the imperial officiator for a funeral and a wedding," Han Xin replied, his voice steady.

Han Zhan wasn’t surprised by the request. "What will come first?"

"The funeral, but it will be small."

"Okay." Han Zhan nodded, understanding the silent grief that hung between them. Han Xin turned, about to walk away, when Han Zhan called out to him, "Are you okay?"