Galen returned to his living quarters, tearing off his armor and cape and tossing them carelessly onto the floor.
He ripped off the inner garments that were stuck to him with dried blood, exposing his muscular upper body, as several maids, who had already prepared hot water and soft towels, came to wipe him down.
Although it was a staged act with the Syndicate, the Stromgarde Legion truly lived up to its reputation as the most valiant among the Human Kingdoms, and the soldiers loyal to Thoras, even in death, fought back, leaving Galen with some serious injuries.
"Haha, Prince Galen… no, Your Majesty Galen, I should congratulate you on your success in advance."
Applauding and speaking, a middle-aged man in a neat leather armor with short hair emerged from the shadows of the side hall, seemingly out of nowhere.
Upon hearing the words of this handsome and gloomy middle-aged man, several maids trembled, their hands and bodies shaking, but they suppressed their fear and unease and continued to clean Galen's body.
These words should not have been heard by them; although they were Galen's most trusted servants, this did not mean they could live on without worry.
However, showing fear now could mean instant death.
Galen also heard the words of the elegant middle-aged man, but his expression was far from pleased.
"Falcrest, how did you get into my quarters?" Galen turned around, staring intently at Falcrest, his remaining scars and bloodstains making him appear particularly fierce at this moment.
"Of course, I came to congratulate you on your ascension in advance," Falcrest said innocently, spreading his hands.
Remember in one second.
"Stop pretending. Just tell me, what do you want?" Galen's expression remained unchanged, completely unmoved by Falcrest's attitude.
Duke Falcrest was one of the remaining nobles of Alterac, and also the head of the Syndicate in Arathi and Stromgarde, and he was also one of the elders of the Syndicate.
It could be said that within the entire Syndicate, apart from a few special individuals, Falcrest was the most powerful and influential figure.
Especially after the Syndicate's operations in Alterac and Lordaeron were thwarted by the First Legion, they shifted their focus to Arathi, and Falcrest's position within the organization rose significantly.
Now, he almost controlled most of the Syndicate's resources and personnel, and unlike Lord Howard, he was someone Galen disliked but had to respect his opinions.
"It's nothing major. I just hope that tomorrow I can accompany Your Majesty. After all, witnessing some things firsthand makes them more convincing," Falcrest finally stated the purpose of his visit.
Galen frowned at him and said in a deep voice, "You will make this operation easily exposed. I suggest you stay in Stromgarde."
"Please rest assured, Otto and I will disguise ourselves as your guards and also protect your safety."
Otto was Falcrest's guard and bodyguard; he was once a priest in Alterac, but for some unknown reason, he defected to the Syndicate and learned many dark magic spells.
Falcrest was persistent because he had Galen completely under his thumb.
Without the Syndicate's assistance, even if Thoras was unprepared tomorrow, relying solely on Galen and his men, it would not be foolproof to capture Thoras.
Falcrest's request darkened Galen's expression; he strongly wished that no high-ranking Syndicate members would participate in his final operation.
Unlike the lower-ranking members who were paid to do jobs, the high-ranking members of the Syndicate were real nobles, and once Alterac was restored, he would be greatly restricted by them.
Bandits and brigands could be dealt with as "treason," but if a great noble held any evidence, Galen would be extremely passive.
It seemed Falcrest also didn't trust him, which was why he wanted to stay by his side and record the entire event.
After much deliberation, Galen had no choice but to agree to Falcrest's request, otherwise, if tomorrow's plan failed, neither the Syndicate nor he would have a good outcome.
And since the Syndicate had always hidden in the shadows, the one who would ultimately suffer the most damage would be Galen himself.
So, Galen reluctantly agreed to Falcrest's request, and the Duke, with a smile, said to Galen, "That's excellent. Oh, by the way, I'm having a private banquet and would like to invite you to attend. Several colleagues also hope I can introduce them."
"A private banquet—the matter isn't even over yet, and you're already rushing to celebrate?"
"You'll know when you arrive."
Falcrest gestured for Galen to follow, and Galen dismissed the maids, changed into casual clothes, and left his room with Falcrest.
Falcrest walked to the side gate of the palace and said to Otto, his bodyguard, who was leaning against the city wall, "Otto, let's go."
However, his guard made no sound, and the entire perimeter of the Stromgarde Palace Castle was dead silent.
The experienced Falcrest immediately had an ominous premonition. He again called out softly twice, "Otto—Otto!"
Otto still did not respond.
Falcrest's ominous premonition grew stronger. He quickly pulled Galen back inside the castle, took out a small magic orb from his Pregnant, and threw it in the direction where Otto was.
At the same time, he took out a pocket watch, opened it, and held it in his hand. After a brief blur, the dial displayed the scene of Otto's location.
"Damn it!"
Falcrest cursed in a low voice—Otto was dead, and clearly had no reaction before his death.
Three arrows had struck his heart, waist, and throat respectively, and two throwing knives were impaled in each of his shoulders, pinning him to the wall.
"Your secret is out, Galen!" Falcrest looked at Galen with a distorted face, his refined noble facade instantly torn apart.
Galen instinctively retorted, "Impossible! Everyone who knew about this, except my confidants, is dead!"
"Impossible? Then besides your secret being exposed, who would dare to shoot a noble's guard in Stromgarde?! And on the inner city wall!"
Falcrest wished he could kill Galen with his own hands; their plan was about to reach its most crucial step, but now something had gone wrong.
Otto's death was not the issue; however, someone who could kill him so silently and stealthily was definitely not an unknown nobody.
Galen and Falcrest exchanged glances, and the Prince spoke first, "If my father knew about this, it wouldn't be your guard being shot, but him coming directly with a sword to chop off my head!"
Falcrest also calmed down, "You mean, a third-party force has intervened in our affairs?"
Almost instantly, a name popped into Falcrest's mind—Ravenholdt!
Only they had the ability to intercept Syndicate intelligence and dispatch sufficiently powerful assassins to instantly take Otto's life.
But those two throwing knives did look like Ravenholdt's work, but those three arrows… if Falcrest wasn't mistaken, the style of the fletching didn't quite look like arrows used by humans…
Moreover, the arrows emitted a faint magical fluctuation, clearly indicating they were expensive enchanted arrows. Otto had no time to react, his custom armor was pierced, and the arrows easily took his life.
Such a small discovery made Falcrest inexplicably uneasy, because in this world, there was actually another organization with such capabilities.
However, if this organization had truly been alerted, Falcrest wouldn't even dare to think of "revenge," but would immediately plan how to escape, preferably disappearing without a trace in the Human Kingdom.
!
Just the name alone filled Falcrest with an inexplicable dread. Compared to Ravenholdt, with whom the Syndicate often had contact, the Secret Intelligence Agency was indifferent to the Syndicate.
The existence of this organization was not a secret; in fact, the kings and high-ranking officials of various countries might even be aware of it, but what this secretive department actually did, perhaps even Stormwind's SI:7 didn't understand.
And only peers truly understand peers. At least Falcrest learned from the few records concerning the Secret Intelligence Agency that anyone who provoked this department, or was identified as a target by it, usually met only one fate.
"Disappear…" Falcrest murmured, thinking it was unrealistic for the Secret Intelligence Agency to act, because they had never paid attention to the Syndicate before—
"Bang!"
With a crisp sound, Falcrest's pocket watch cracked in several places. Falcrest looked in horror at the magic orb; it was shot exploded by a sharp arrow, and that arrow was deeply embedded in the marble floor.
Almost without hesitation, Falcrest abandoned Galen, his body instantly vanishing from Galen's sight. He immediately vanished into the shadows, wanting to leave the now incredibly eerie and terrifying Stromgarde.
Falcrest's disappearance sent a chill down Galen's spine. From Falcrest's broken words, he also realized that something completely beyond his expectations was happening.
Galen paid no mind to the departing Falcrest; he turned and immediately retreated into the fortress behind him. The darkness behind him seemed like a man-eating monster, and his footsteps were so frantic as he left.
Falcrest's figure completely merged into the shadows. He was confident in his abilities; even the most skilled rangers and mages would have to spend—
"Ugh!"
A hand mercilessly reached out from the darkness, accurately gripping Falcrest's throat, and to ordinary eyes, there was nothing there, as if the hand was grasping empty air.
Falcrest instinctively fumbled for two sharp blades from his sleeves, but an invisible force firmly pressed down on his arms.
With two distinct cracks, Falcrest's eyes bulged with rage and horror; his hands twisted backward in an unnatural manner. In just a single encounter, he lost the ability to resist.
The hand squeezed his throat, effortlessly lifting the tall and well-built middle-aged nobleman off the ground.
At this moment, the owner of the merciless iron hand finally appeared in Falcrest's line of sight.
Falcrest's eyes were filled only with terror and helplessness; he seemed to have witnessed the most horrifying sight in the world. The hand deliberately left him a sliver of breath, allowing the Duke to emit a faint, trembling sound.
"Ah—"
"Bang—!"
Galen slammed the door to his room shut. He was feeling paranoid due to the bizarre situation outside. After some searching, he took down the longsword used as decoration on the wall and gripped it, as if it could provide him with some sense of security.
The invisible pressure was almost driving him mad; it wasn't just panic, but more so the fear of his fate once his secret was exposed.
"Who is it? Who wants to harm the heir of Stromgarde!"
Galen gripped the longsword, veins popping out on his arms. His panicked and nervous appearance made it hard to associate him with a ruthless person who was about to murder his own father.
"Thump—thump—"
Almost suffocating footsteps sounded outside the room. Galen's gaze became like that of a wild beast, and the sword in his hand was already poised to strike. As soon as anyone entered his room, they would be met with a fatal blow.
The footsteps stopped abruptly outside Galen's room. Galen's mind was tense but highly focused. At that moment, he was somewhat like a drowning man, knowing that the possibility of exposure was extremely high, yet stubbornly believing that as long as he killed the person outside, his secret could remain hidden.
Suddenly, the door opened, and a human-shaped shadow rushed in. Galen instinctively swung his sword, feeling the definite resistance of the blade entering flesh, and then, the spraying blood confirmed that he had hit his target.
He won? The opponent was unprepared and was slain by him?
But the relief of surviving had not yet fully taken over Galen's mind when an iron fist, whistling like a cannonball, slammed into his face.
Feeling as if his face had been struck by a battering ram, Galen's head buzzed, and the entire world seemed to turn upside down. His tall body fell backward like a tree felled in a forest.
The terrifying force was fully manifested when his back contacted the exquisite solid wood table and chairs behind him. The furniture simply could not withstand Galen's backward fall, practically exploding into pieces, with parts and splinters flying everywhere.
Until Galen's back of the head made intimate contact with the ground, the marble floor inside the fortress was actually cracked by his body.
And that wasn't all; the residual force of the punch also affected a nearby bookshelf. The heavy solid wood bookshelf slowly toppled towards where Galen lay.
After a teeth-grinding creak, the bookshelf landed squarely on Galen, sending books and papers flying everywhere, some pages stained red with the blood flowing on the floor.
Falcrest never expected that he would die in such a comical way at the hands of his "ally." His body was almost cut in half by Galen's sharp sword. Before taking his last breath, he still looked at Galen, who was pinned under the bookshelf, in disbelief.
"From the very beginning, I shouldn't have provoked Lo…"
Falcrest's consciousness left his body. As for Galen, what awaited him was more than just a simple punch.