Chapter 239: Volantis Rebellion

Jinvara nodded slightly and said solemnly: "You can mobilize a thousand Holy Fire Hands at any time. The believers of the Red God are willing to serve you."

Narciso hurriedly bowed respectfully and said earnestly: "Thank you for the generous help of the high priest. The survival of Volantis may depend on these thousand Holy Fire Hands."

The high priest still looked calm and stopped looking at him. She slowly turned and walked away to the depths of the hall. After a moment, her voice came from the depths of the temple.

"This is all the will of R'hllor, and it is not for Volantis."

The night is like a huge piece of black silk, gently covering the city of Volantis.

Narciso, who left the Red Temple, hurried back to his mansion. As soon as he stepped into the mansion, he immediately summoned his most trusted confidant and whispered: "You, quickly give this letter to Archon Dofas, quickly!" After receiving the order, the confidant quickly disappeared into the night like a black shadow.

That night, the moonlight was like water, sprinkled on the quiet streets, as if every stone slab was coated with a layer of silver frost.

Dauphas came to Narciso's mansion quietly with only a few guards.

After the guard at the gate reported quietly, Dauphas walked into the mansion quickly, passed through the winding corridor, and came to Narciso's study.

In the study, the candlelight flickered, reflecting the figures of the two on the wall, which seemed a little distorted.

Dauphas and Narciso sat opposite each other, and their eyes met in the candlelight.

Dofas spoke first, his voice low and powerful: "I will contact the officers of the Elephant Party in the Tiger Robe Army and persuade them personally. We must ensure that we can firmly control the army at the first moment of action. At the same time, we must capture Malachor's confidants and cut off his arms. We must not leave Malachor any chance to fight back. After the matter is accomplished, I will inform you as soon as possible."

Narciso nodded slightly, with a resolute light flashing in his eyes. He clenched his fists and said: "Okay, I will lead the monks to attack Malachor's mansion, and then use our two Unsullied Guards to control the parliament and ensure that Volantis is under our control."

The two of them discussed various possible situations and countermeasures in detail around the candlelight. After careful consideration, they finally set the time of action carefully for tomorrow night.

Time soon came to the next night.

Outside the Red Temple, the moonlight was like water, sprinkling on the ancient buildings, outlining a mysterious and hazy outline.

Narciso, wearing armor shining with cold light, waited solemnly for Dofas's news.

Behind him was a group of neatly arranged monks. They were dressed in red leather armor, all of them were burly, with tight muscles, and the sharp weapons in their hands flashed cold light in the moonlight.

Just then, a flapping sound of wings suddenly came from the silent night sky. A carrier pigeon flapped its wings like a ghost and landed accurately on Narciso's shoulder. Narciso's eyes were stern, and he quickly and gently untied the note on the pigeon's leg. His eyes quickly swept over the note, and a hint of excitement and nervousness flashed in his eyes.

He took a deep breath and shouted loudly: "Let's go!"

At the door of Malachor's mansion, the slaves guarding here were originally guarding the door bored.

The night breeze blew gently, some of them yawned slightly, and some looked ahead with empty eyes, as if they were thinking about something, or perhaps they were not thinking about anything, just mechanically completing their guarding tasks.

Suddenly, a dull sound of footsteps broke the silence, and the huge body of an elephant appeared in the field of vision, slowly walking towards the mansion. Behind the elephant, there was a team of Red Temple's Holy Fire Hands, who were dressed in unique costumes, and the weapons in their hands flashed cold light in the moonlight, exuding a chilling atmosphere.

Seeing this, the slaves immediately seemed to be electrocuted, and instantly restrained their previous lazy posture. They quickly straightened their bodies, put on respectful expressions on their faces, hurriedly sorted out their clothes, and then trotted to both sides of the road, stood neatly, and prepared to welcome guests.

After all, in Volantis, only the archons would ride elephants when traveling, which was a symbol of status and power.

An experienced steward quickly stepped forward a few steps, took a closer look in the moonlight, and identified at a glance that the owner of the elephant was the archon-Nasisovisama.

His heart tightened, and he quickly tidied his clothes, bowed his head respectfully, and waited for Narciso's arrival, while secretly speculating on the purpose of this great man's visit at this time.

Narciso rode on the back of the elephant, looking down at these slaves with cold and sharp eyes. These slaves were still unguarded, their faces were full of habitual respect, they opened the door quickly, then bent down deeply, their bodies almost parallel to the ground, and greeted Narciso's arrival with the most humble attitude.

The steward had sharp eyes, and he saw at a glance that Narciso was unusual today. The archon was wearing armor today. This was very different from the archon's usual dress when he came to visit, and doubts could not help but surge in his heart.

He plucked up his courage, stepped forward quickly, and asked respectfully but with some caution: "Mr. Archon, what are you..."

However, Narciso did not bother to answer his question at all, but sneered in his heart. These stupid slaves had no idea what disaster they were about to face.

Then, Narciso no longer hesitated. He waved his arms violently and shouted, "Attack!"

As his order was issued, the monks who had been ready for battle rushed into the mansion like a tide. The unprepared slaves were stunned by the sudden change and stood there at a loss.

At this time, in the study, Malachor was sitting around a huge oak table with several Tiger Robe Army officers, discussing the defense of Volantis.

Suddenly, a faint noise came from outside, breaking the silence. Malachor frowned, a trace of doubt and impatience flashed in his eyes, and he immediately stopped his actions and shouted to the slave standing at the door: "Go and see what happened outside."    The slave was about to take the order and leave, but at this moment, a slave ran in panic, his eyes full of fear, and said in a trembling voice: "My lord, it's not good, Archon Narciso suddenly rushed into the mansion with the Holy Fire Hand of the Red Temple, and killed anyone he saw!"

When Malachor heard this, a storm suddenly rose in his heart. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind instantly, the first of which was a kind of anger of betrayal. He and Narciso were both consuls, and although they were not in the same party and often fought for power, he had never thought that such a fierce conflict would break out in his own mansion. "This Narciso, dare to start a rebellion!" He shouted in his heart.

He remembered the meeting yesterday and his heart tightened. He immediately guessed the purpose of Narciso's move.

"He wants to seize power and intends to surrender Gavin and offer Volantis. Does Dofus know? No, he must know. Narciso can't decide this matter by himself."

Malachor frowned and thought about various possibilities.

"If Dofus also colluded with him, wouldn't I be in a desperate situation today?" Malachor thought to himself, and his anxiety became stronger.

However, his many years of political career and military experience made him calm down quickly. The shouting and killing outside were getting closer and closer, as if the footsteps of the god of death were approaching step by step. He knew that he couldn't panic at this moment and had to take action. Narciso came prepared, he must leave now, he can't hold on.

"Notify the Unsullied Guards, don't worry about them, escort me away immediately." Malachor ordered loudly.

A head-on conflict would lead to a desperate situation, and there might be a glimmer of hope to find a chance to break out from the back door.

Thinking of this, he didn't care about anything else and ran towards the back door immediately.

However, when he rushed to the back door in a hurry, the scene in front of him made Malachor's heart sink to the bottom of the valley instantly. I saw the fire flickering at the back door, and a group of monks stood like ghosts. The weapons in their hands flashed cold light under the reflection of the fire, and the breath seemed to freeze the air.

The monks were ready for battle, and their eyes revealed coldness and determination, as if they were an insurmountable high wall, ruthlessly blocking the retreat of Malachor and others.

Malachor secretly said in his heart that it was not good, and in desperation, he had to hurriedly command everyone to retreat. But as soon as they turned around, they heard the initial shouts and screams coming closer and closer, like a surging tide, which made people's eardrums hurt.

At this moment, several red-robed Holy Fire Hands suddenly rushed out from the corner. Their eyes were sharp and showed cold murderous intent. As soon as they saw Malachor, they immediately rushed towards his position like hungry wolves.

For a moment, the corridor fell into chaos. Swords and shadows were intertwined, and shouts and screams came one after another. Malachor waved his weapon vigorously, trying to fight his way out, but there were too many enemies and they were coming fiercely.

In this melee, Malachor saw that the situation was not good, and he could only fight and retreat with the few remaining Unsullied beside him, and frantically looked for a place to hide temporarily. Finally, they retreated into a room. Malachor slammed the door shut, leaned against it and gasped, his eyes full of anxiety and unwillingness, while the shouts and screams outside continued to ring, as if they would burst through the door at any time and swallow them up completely.

The room was filled with tension and despair, and everyone's breathing seemed heavy and rapid. Malachor's face was as gloomy as the sky before a storm, and his eyes revealed deep anxiety and unwillingness.

The situation became very critical, and the shouts and footsteps outside were getting smaller and smaller, but he still couldn't leave here.

Malachor could feel the shadow of death enveloping him little by little, and time seemed to stop at this moment, and every second was filled with endless torment. His heart was filled with anger and helplessness, and he hated Narciso's betrayal very much, and at the same time he regretted why he didn't notice this conspiracy in advance.

The room was filled with blood and despair, and the groans of the wounded echoed in this small space, as if it was the prelude to death. Malachor leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, his body was covered with blood, some from the enemy and some from his own people. His eyes revealed fatigue and unwillingness, but still burning with the flames of anger.

At this time, Narciso came outside the room, his figure was a little blurred in the light of the fire. Narciso shouted loudly: "Malachor, you have no way to escape, surrender!"

Malachor stood up suddenly when he heard Narciso's voice. He rushed to the window, his eyes red, and asked angrily: "You traitor! What qualifications do you have to make me surrender? You started this rebellion and betrayed Volantis, you will be punished!" Malachor's voice trembled with anger, he continued to insult: "You are clearly planning to surrender, offer Volantis to Gavin, and be his dog!"

Narciso stood outside the house, his face gloomy. He was silent for a moment and then said: "Everything I did was to protect my family. Look at the current situation. What can we use to fight? Gavin has three dragons, tens of thousands of troops, and an invincible fleet. We can't resist. I have no choice but to do this. Only in this way can we all survive."

Malachor sneered and said sarcastically: "You coward! Don't make excuses for yourself."

Narciso no longer argued with him. He waved his hand and ordered: "Monks, attack!"

The monks rushed into the room like a tide, and the shouts were deafening. Malachor looked at the approaching enemy, his heart filled with despair and anger. He knew that he was doomed today, but he would never be willing to die like this. At the last moment of his life, he cursed with all his strength: "Narciso, you and Dofus will not die well! You will be punished!"

As the monks rushed in, the final desperate struggle began in the room. Malachor fought hard, but he was outnumbered. In the fierce battle, he was hit by the weapons of the monks. His body shook a few times and slowly fell down, his eyes still full of resentment towards Narciso and unwillingness to his fate.

After Malachor was killed, the room fell into a dead silence.

Narciso walked into the room and looked at Malachor's body, feeling mixed emotions.

At the same time, chaos broke out in the Tiger Robe Army camp in the inner city.

Several elephant party officers assassinated several unsuspecting Tiger Party officers in succession. After the elephant party officers succeeded, they took the opportunity to control the troops led by those Tiger Party officers.

After the remaining Tiger Party officers learned of this, they angrily gathered the Tiger Robe Army they could control and formed a confrontation with the part of the army controlled by the elephant party officers. The air was filled with a strong smell of gunpowder. Although the shouting and killing did not sound in the Tiger Robe Army camp, the tense atmosphere that was almost solidified seemed to ignite the war completely in the next second.

At this critical moment, Archon Dofas arrived hurriedly and used his status as archon to forcibly suppress the conflict and successfully control the army.