Free Web NovelChapter 519: Chapter 519
Though Ragnar’s eyes remained fixed on Hairan, his words were directed to every single person there.
Several nobles who had openly supported Hairan suddenly looked deeply uneasy.
The soldiers and noble commanders loyal to Ragnar wasted no time.
At his order, swords slid free from sheaths throughout the chamber as armed men began advancing toward the dais.
Hairan’s expression twisted with fury.
"You would choose the word of a rotten bastard over your rightful king?" he spat as he pulled out his own sword. "I would rather die than allow any of you to lay a hand on me."
Hairan slashed toward the nearest man with enough force to drive him backward immediately. The others hesitated for only a second before circling wider around him.
Unlike his mother, Hairan still possessed enough control to be dangerous.
Meanwhile, Laheir offered no resistance at all when one of them seized him roughly and forced his arms behind his back.
He simply stood there silently for several moments while chaos threatened to erupt around him.
His eyes found Ragnar. For the first time since the truth was exposed, something almost vulnerable flickered across Laheir’s face.
"Where is my brother Aeron?" Laheir demanded.
"He is dead," Ragnar said coldly. "Just like the rest of the soldiers your queen sent after me."
For a moment, Laheir only stared at him.
He shook his head violently.
"No." The word came out hoarse. Desperate. "You’re lying. You’re lying! Where is Aeron?"
One of the men behind him shoved him forward roughly, trying to force him toward the large double doors, but Laheir resisted. He twisted against the hands restraining him.
"I want the truth!" he shouted.
Another man shoved his shoulder harder, dragging him forward again. Still, Laheir refused to relent.
"Bastard! What have you done with my brother? Tell me!" He roared.
He continued struggling violently as they dragged him toward the massive double doors, his voice growing increasingly frantic with every step until it dissolved into furious incoherent shouting.
What remained was simply a terrified man realizing far too late that everything he built was collapsing around him.
But the chaos within the throne room was far from over.
Hairan suddenly broke through the soldiers surrounding him.
One of the men crashed sideways into a pillar as Hairan violently forced his way past him. His sword remained clenched tightly in his grasp as he charged straight toward Ragnar with murderous intent burning in his eyes. fгeewebnovёl.com
He swung for Ragnar’s neck the instant he closed the distance.
Ragnar drew his own sword just in time to intercept the strike. But Hairan did not stop there. He took after his mother in this regard.
He attacked again immediately. And again.
Each strike came harder than the last, wild with unbridled fury yet still dangerous from years of training. The nobles scattered backward in alarm as the two brothers clashed across the center of the throne room.
Every blow Hairan dealt was brutal. He wanted nothing more than to kill Ragnar right there.
But Ragnar met each attack skillfully.
He parried each blow cleanly and sidestepped quickly when he needed to.
"You think this throne belongs to you?" Hairan snarled between strikes. "You think they will ever truly accept you as their king?"
Ragnar blocked another slash and shoved him backward hard enough to force Hairan off balance.
"Your actions caused many of our people to suffer. People died because of you and all you can think about is taking the throne" Ragnar glared.
In the next instant, Hairan overextended his attack, leaving himself wide open. Ragnar seized the moment and drove his sword forward.
His blade sank deep into the side of Hairan’s ribs.
Hairan’s body went rigid instantly. A strangled sound escaped his throat as his eyes slowly lowered toward the sword buried in his side. Blood immediately began spilling down the steel in thick streams before dripping heavily onto the floor beneath him.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Hairan slowly lifted his gaze back toward Ragnar and smiled. The expression looked savage against the blood gathering at the corner of his mouth.
"You really think you’ve won. You think killing me means you can take what is mine?" Hairan let out a cruel chuckle. "You are wrong."
Blood slid from his lips now with every word, yet the hatred in his eyes only seemed to deepen.
Then more quietly, he added, "Do you want to know what truly happened to Luria?"
The moment the name left his mouth, Ragnar froze.
"Just like you, she did not know how to stay in her place. She started digging into matters that did not concern her." He continued tauntingly. "So she had to die for it. Mother may have hired the assassins but I was the one who gave them your hunting knife."
"I wanted you to suffer," he whispered. "I wanted you to live knowing it was your own blade that killed your wife."
Something inside Ragnar snapped.
A snarl tore from him as he drove the sword deeper into Hairan’s ribs, before twisting it harshly.
Hairan gasped in pain, his body jerking from the force, a wet gurgle escaping his throat as the blade remained lodged inside him.
With a forceful yank, Ragnar ripped it free.
Blood gusher from the wound immediately. It spilled over Hairan’s clothes, staining it a deep crimson.
Hairan collapsed onto his knees, one trembling hand instinctively clutching at his side while blood poured between his fingers, down his legs and onto the floor.
But Hairan barely seemed aware of anything near him anymore. The sounds around him had already begun fading into something distant and muffled.
Waves of unbearable pain ravaged his entire body. His vision blurred slowly at the edges while darkness threatened to devour him.
Even breathing has become difficult and painful now. Each inhale he took felt like a struggle.
Yet through the haze swallowing his senses, he still lifted his eyes weakly toward Ragnar one final time. Hatred still shone in their depths even now.
Then just as they grabbed his shoulders to hurl him away, everything went black.
