And yet, not a single sound rang out: Véa's spell instantly teleported the bullet to another portal the second it cleared the barrel. This repeated five more times. The bullet traveled so fast that the sound reached the guards' ears far too late.
"Alright, let's go, if you're done casting," Cavras said, standing up.
"Yeah," Véa replied, finishing the hand movements she had started after touching Cavras's rifle. She was prepping another teleportation spell.
"Are you good for—"
"Yeah," she replied, cutting off her teammate.
"The Clear Path," she continued, before both of them were surrounded by several purple halos.
The two vanished.
Clink.
It was the sound of the bullet hitting the crown.
A few seconds later, the sound echoed through the entire hall.
BANG.
The crown fell from the king's head. The bullet pierced right through it and through Tribulio's temple. He couldn't say a word; he simply collapsed under the horrified stares of the guards and his servant, Ponzi.
The crown was sucked into a small teleportation portal.
"My king!" the guards and the servant screamed in unison.
"He... He's been assassinated!" Ponzi cried out.
"But no one came in here. How is that possible?!" the mustachioed guard exclaimed.
"Fuck, we might be under attack! Barricade the door!" Ponzi snapped.
"But we have to warn the others!" the one-eyed guard retorted.
"If they could assassinate the king, it means they're already inside the palace, you idiot! We're probably surrounded. We need to take the emergency exit to save ourselves first, and then see if we can warn the others!" Ponzi explained, fighting to stay calm.
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"Where the hell is that fucking supreme mage who's supposed to protect the country?!" the third guard yelled, barricading the door at the same time.
"You mean Bol Bol? He's nothing but a charlatan who's part of the king's family," Ponzi replied.
"A charlatan, you say?! And what about our real supreme mage?!" the fourth, bearded guard shouted.
"Yes, you heard me right: a charlatan. The king recruited him to keep his grip on power. As for Truvadar? I have no idea. He probably sold us out. That man only cares about money. These assassins might have even bought him off, in which case, we're completely screwed," Ponzi answered, looking defeated.
"Alright, anyone who wants to survive, come with me. The underground passage is this way," Ponzi continued.
Three guards nodded and headed over to Ponzi. The fourth looked doubtful.
Ponzi turned to him:
"Got a problem?"
"I... I think we need to fight the enemy!" the guard cried.
Ponzi laughed at his bewildered stare.
"There are only five of us, counting me. We're talking about an assassin who killed the king right in front of our eyes, in the throne room. Do you know what that means?" Ponzi asked.
"I..."
The guard felt helpless.
"What it means is that this guy, or these guys, got past the guards stationed at the castle entrance and bypassed the protective barrier the king paid fortunes to the mages to maintain. And you think the four of us guards and a servant can do anything about it? Knowing that as we speak, it's highly likely we're surrounded or they've already escaped after killing the king," Ponzi exclaimed, his tone turning ice-cold.
"You... You're right," the guard said, overwhelmed by the situation.
The guards and Ponzi kept moving. The mustachioed guard asked one last question:
"And... the king's body?" he asked.
"Enough! We don't have time for this. Can't you smell the smoke starting to fill the throne room? Whether it's the women in the baths or the king's body, we can't save them! The king was a big guy—he weighed nearly three hundred and twenty pounds. You think we can run carrying a dead body? And the harlots, you think we can warn them and take the extra risk of running into enemies down there?!"
Ponzi was losing his cool.
Indeed, Ponzi wasn't just a servant; he was also the king's right-hand man and strategist. He knew that the longer they stayed in the palace, the higher their chances of dying.
The guard said nothing more. He gave a brief nod, exhausted by the grueling turn of events, and moved to join the others.
"Push the king's body aside. And get a piece of his cape to prove his death, since the crown seems to have been stolen by the assassin," Ponzi ordered. As the guards moved the body, he pondered the circumstances of the murder.
What was that little purple portal that sucked the crown in, anyway? A teleportation portal couldn't be that small...
"All done," two guards said.
"Good. Strike the throne hard," Ponzi ordered.
"What?!" the guards exclaimed.
"Just do it, dammit!" Ponzi yelled.
The smoke from the fire was becoming unbearable.
"F-Fine..." the guards said, before one of them landed a violent blow to the throne.
It tipped backward, revealing a trapdoor.
"I-It's... it's a trapdoor!" one of the guards said, rushing to open it.
Cough, cough.
"Jump, now!" Ponzi screamed, fed up with leading these useless fools.
"Y-Yes!"
Then one guard jumped.
A few seconds later, a violent explosion erupted.
"Wha—" Ponzi started, before being swept away by the fiery blast of the explosive rune.
All the runes triggered simultaneously, as if they were interconnected.