Chapter 9: Facing the Regional lord's henchmen

"My lady, we must escape..." Dulip Cave whispered urgently to Princess Jerusha, his voice barely audible over the tense silence. The princess, seated within her gilded carriage, stared out at the six men before her. Each radiated power, their cultivation levels ranging from the 6th to the 10th level of the Ocean Opening Realm. The odds were grim.

Jerusha, however, was not one to yield easily. Lifting her chin, she addressed them with icy authority. "I am Jerusha, the eighth princess of the Empire and daughter of the Third Empress, Hodiah. Kneel before me and show your sincerity, and I may consider sparing your worthless lives."

Her words dripped with regal arrogance, a calculated attempt to intimidate them with her imperial lineage. But Jerusha underestimated the ruthlessness of regional lord subordinates, men forged in cruelty and indifference.

The leader of the group stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel as a slow, mocking clap echoed through the tense air. "Clap... clap... clap..." Each sound was deliberate, taunting.

He stopped a few paces from the princess's carriage, his dark hood obscuring most of his features. Princess Jerusha's guards instinctively moved closer to her, their weapons trembling slightly as they raised them.

"You're only a princess as long as you're alive," the man said, his voice cold and dripping with disdain. Slowly, he pulled back his hood, revealing a face marked by jagged claw scars that twisted grotesquely across his features. One eye glinted unnaturally, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"For instance," he continued, his tone calm but brimming with menace, "I've heard that your dear half-brother, Josh Aratat, is dead. Tell me, Princess, is he still a prince? No, he's just another corpse rotting in the dirt." His lips curled into a cruel smile. "Perhaps we'll do the Emperor a favor by thinning out his surplus of useless offspring. That would be our humble contribution to the empire."

"Protect the princess!" Dulip Cave bellowed, his voice cutting through the growing dread. Six maids, all at the 4th level of the Ocean Opening Realm, sprang into action, forming a protective circle around Jerusha with their weapons drawn. Despite their composure, the disparity in power between them and their opponents was glaring.

Jerusha's hands clenched tightly, her nails digging into her palms as fury coursed through her veins. Never had anyone dared to treat her with such contempt, to put her on the defensive like this. Her pride, her authority—everything was being mocked. Her crimson eyes burned with rage as she roared, "If I make it out alive, I swear by my blood, my brother Jaden and I will hunt you down! I will see your head on a spike!"

The scarred man chuckled darkly, his presence looming like a shadow over the carriage. "Exactly, that would only happen If you make it out alive, Princess," he said, his voice dangerously soft. He took another step forward, his scarred face twisting into an even more menacing expression. "But I have no intention of letting that happen."

The tension thickened like a storm about to break, the air charged with the promise of violence. Jerusha could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, but she refused to show fear. She was a princess of the Empire, and even if this was her last stand, she would not go down quietly.

The level 10 Ocean Opening Realm man spoke calmly, his scarred face twisting into an even more intimidating sneer.

"Boys, kill every last one of them," he commanded, his voice echoing with authority.

Chaos erupted. The clash of weapons filled the air with sharp, metallic cries and bursts of energy. Pshtt. Pah. Pufftt. Plussshhht. Blood sprayed, and the air became thick with the stench of death.

The regional lord's henchmen—levels 6, 7, and 9—descended upon the princess's guards like predators upon prey. Their movements were precise, brutal, and relentless. The princess's men, though valiant, were quickly overwhelmed.

Princess Jerusha and Dulip Cave were forced to retreat as the onslaught intensified. Dulip stood firm by her side, his expression grim, while the princess's guards fell one by one, their cries swallowed by the chaos.

Among the attackers, the level 7 man stood out. With a sickle-like weapon in hand, he leapt into the air, his movements fluid and deadly. Channeling his Ocean Opening Realm energy, he unleashed devastating strikes that overwhelmed his opponents. Beside him, the level 9 man complemented his ferocity, the two working in deadly harmony.

Dulip Cave held his ground, shielding the princess as they retreated step by step, their remaining subordinates falling like cannon fodder to buy them time.

Of the sixty guards who had accompanied Princess Jerusha, only twenty-nine remained. Their numbers continued to dwindle as the battle raged. Realizing the hopelessness of their situation, Jerusha, Dulip, and a small group of six level-4 maids broke away, abandoning their carriage and goods in the streets.

Hours later, Princess Jerusha found herself running through the dense woods of Region 22, her breaths ragged and her legs screaming in protest. Dulip and the surviving maids ran alongside her, their expressions a mix of fear and determination.

Jerusha cursed under her breath, rage boiling within her. This humiliation, this disgrace—she would not let it stand. She swore to return one day, stronger, and mete out vengeance upon these wretches who dared to defy her.

"Princess, we need to hurry! I can sense someone closing in on us!" Dulip's shout snapped Jerusha out of her thoughts.

Biting back her exhaustion, she forced her aching legs to keep moving. As a 4th-level Ocean Opening Realm cultivator, she lacked the ability to draw energy from her surroundings to replenish her stamina. Every step felt like agony, a painful reminder of how unprepared she was.

Regret gnawed at her. If only she had listened to her brother Jaden. Though only in the 7th level of the Ocean Opening Realm, Jaden was cunning, his strategies razor-sharp. He traveled with subordinates at the 10th level—an entourage that no one dared to challenge lightly.

Suddenly, a scream shattered the tense silence. Jerusha whipped around just in time to see two of the maids fall, their heads severed cleanly from their bodies. Blood sprayed in gruesome arcs, soaking the forest floor.

The sickle weapon spun through the air like a deadly boomerang, returning to its wielder—the level 7 cultivator who emerged from the shadows with two level 6 henchmen in tow.

Jerusha's heart pounded as she stared at the bloodied figures. Only four maids and Dulip Cave remained. They were outmatched, their chances of survival growing slimmer by the second.

"You're cornered, Princess," the level 7 man sneered, his sickle gleaming menacingly in the dim light.