The last time Yang Ying deployed twelve people, it was when he was still a Master of Preservation, acting on behalf of the Marshal. Now, facing the massive contingent of expert combatants fielded by the rebels, Yang Ying once again unleashed his Art of Cloning.

A chaotic melee erupted before the castle gates. All thirteen figures of Yang Ying were cloaked in invisibility, wielding silent lightsabers. Only at close range could one sense the faint trajectory of their strikes through pure sixth sense.

These thirteen Yang Yings were no ordinary Peak Third Tier practitioners; they had pushed their Third Tier cultivation to its absolute limit. Their psionic power neared three million. Among all present, not one of the ten Peak Third Tier rebels could boast a deeper reservoir of psionic energy than Yang Ying.

Yang Ying dispatched five clones to tie down ten Peak Third Tier rebels, while the remaining seven clones plunged into the crowd of other Third Tier experts nearby. They descended like tigers among sheep, carving a path of slaughter.

Almost instantaneously, the rebels suffered casualties. A Third Tier expert, slightly weaker with psionic strength hovering around two hundred thousand, was skewered and killed by a clone’s swift strike. In the immediate aftermath of the second engagement, two more Third Tier experts were cut down, causing the rebel momentum to falter abruptly.

The seven clones simultaneously unleashed the Great Vortex Technique. A surge of crimson light engulfed the ground, immobilizing a dozen Third Tier experts. The clones closed in, flashing their swords several times, instantly dispatching them. Then, they unleashed another Great Vortex Technique, this time freezing seven or eight more. Another rapid series of sword flashes followed, and their heads tumbled to the ground.

In just over ten seconds, more than twenty Third Tier experts lay dead. The survivors were struck with terror. They had witnessed Peak Third Tier experts slaughtering en masse before; even if such figures appeared on a battlefield, effortlessly slaying hundreds of soldiers in a single breath with a lightsaber was child’s play for them.

But they had never seen anyone cut down fellow Third Tier experts as easily as chopping vegetables. In such a short span, nearly a third of their Third Tier forces had been eliminated.

“The enemy’s strength is far beyond estimation! Vati, what did you tell us? You guaranteed success, this is sheer recklessness!” roared a Peak Third Tier rebel distinguished by his three eyes and six ears. He was a mercenary commander, and two of his own Peak Third Tier subordinates had joined this trap operation. During the initial massacre wrought by the Great Vortex Technique, two of his men had already perished, causing him intense anguish.

“In such a rush, then hurry up and kill your opponent so you can poison my subordinates?”

Vati gritted his teeth. He and another Peak Third Tier Flin, Flynn, were simultaneously assaulting one of Yang Ying’s clones. Both Flin experts pushed their swordplay and arcane arts to the extreme, unleashing everything they had, yet they still could not overcome the clone. The clone defended flawlessly with a lightsaber in each hand, its defensive perimeter an impenetrable steel wall. Defeating this clone immediately was utterly impossible.

“Kill my opponent? Are you joking? How long will that take? My men will be killed first!” the three-eyed, six-eared mercenary roared, abandoning his attack to intercept another clone that was pursuing his remaining subordinate, engaging in fierce combat.

The other two-on-one pairings quickly dissolved. The field transformed into a ten-on-ten clash: ten Peak Third Tier rebels facing ten of Yang Ying’s clones, fighting back and forth with ferocious intensity. Meanwhile, thirty or forty other Third Tier experts managed to break through the initial clone containment line, merging the outer and inner circles of the battle into one massive brawl.

Yang Ying still had two operational clones, who continued to slaughter the rebel Third Tier forces with ruthless efficiency. The confusion of the melee made it easier to fish in troubled waters. They simply hurled the Great Vortex Technique into areas dense with enemies. Although the initial iterations of the technique were indiscriminate, Yang Ying’s mastery had allowed him to modify the flaw; he could now select targets within the radius, sparing allies while trapping enemies.

Vati, seeing that even with so many forces, they could not gain the upper hand, felt his rage surge. He cursed the cunning Royal Family internally, wondering what method they had used to recruit so many black-robed figures. Judging by the style of swordplay and arcane arts employed by these black-robed individuals, they clearly originated from a single lineage, and all possessed terrifyingly deep, rarely seen reservoirs of psionic energy.

Suddenly, he focused his gaze, counting the figures in the fray, and his face drained of color. There were only twelve enemies where there should have been thirteen—one had vanished!

Normally, Peak Third Tier experts maintain complete battlefield awareness during combat, capable of observing all directions and hearing everything, possessing an accurate grasp of the entire conflict, preventing such a simple error. However, all thirteen Yang Yings were invisible. Standing even slightly farther away made them difficult to pinpoint. Distinguishing whether there were twelve or thirteen invisible figures amidst the chaos was nearly impossible.

Vati thought, This is bad. He must have gone for the King and Queen! We should have brought life detectors! Oh wait, that wouldn't work either. In the aftermath of such fierce fighting, even metallic life detectors wouldn't last long. One blast wave, and they’d instantly turn to dust. Bringing them would have been pointless! Damn it, how are we supposed to deal with these invisible Peak Third Tier masters?

On the top floor of the tower, in the room housing the King and Queen, the furnishings were sparse: only two beds, one table, and two chairs. Currently, each of the two beds held one person bound tightly.

Their attire was simple. One, a male Flin, had clearly entered old age. Despite wearing only a simple tunic, it could not conceal the aura of long-held authority. The other, a female Flin, was roughly the same age, but thanks to excellent upkeep, appeared much younger. It was evident that Princess Hafin’s facial structure and bearing were inherited from this woman.

“Your Majesty, why is it so loud outside? Could it be our son and daughter have sent people to rescue us?” the Queen of the Tilin Kingdom inquired.

The room’s windows had been sealed, and the lighting was dim. Due to the thick walls and the external protective shield, sound struggled to penetrate.

Yet, the battle raging outside was so intense that the residual shockwaves had already affected most of the palace. Many magnificent halls had been reduced to ruins by the fighting. Palace attendants, retainers, and guards fled desperately, their cries echoing to the heavens, all desiring to escape this perilous location as soon as possible.

The sounds of collapsing palaces, the clamor of human voices, battle shouts, magical explosions, and the crackle of thunder—all these sounds merged into a torrent like an avalanche. Though significantly dampened after passing through the tower’s protective shield and thick walls, they still reached the ears of the two most crucial prisoners.

“It must be so. A fierce battle rages outside, otherwise, we wouldn’t hear it.” The King, upon learning that a rescue was underway, did not appear joyous.

The Queen, having been married to the King for decades and bearing seven children, was certainly no stranger to state affairs. She sighed, “Your Majesty, are you still worried that the rebels have laid a trap?”

“Of course, how could I not be worried?” The King shook his head. “Hyde and the others finally couldn't hold back. Since they sent people to save us, the casualties will likely be devastating. The rebels are currently dominant; every single force loyal to the Crown is precious. They shouldn’t be wasted on the two of us. If this leads to the Kingdom losing the strength to counterattack, then what face will I have to meet my ancestors? I would rather they hadn't come to save us; if my death can buy the Kingdom’s rebirth, then my death is worthwhile.”

“Your Majesty, I am willing to die with you,” the Queen stated emotionally.

Both the King and Queen had come to terms with their fate during their confinement and had previously contemplated suicide to spare the remaining loyal forces further losses. However, they were ultimately rescued. To prevent them from repeating such an act, the rebels had bound them both to the beds, leaving them completely immobilized save for their mouths.

By now, Yang Ying had passed through the castle gate, ascended the tower, and reached the summit. He had left his twelve clones outside to engage the enemy, granting himself ample time and space.

The various security devices installed on the stairwells and corridors, along with the guarding soldiers, posed no obstacle to him. Yang Ying strode through with ease; if necessary, a sweep with his lightsaber would carve a path open.

Reaching the tower top, he found a large, lacquered red door firmly shut, fronted by a layer of blood-red light membrane. Yang Ying recognized it as an energy net—a form of defensive installation capable of incinerating any enemy that touched it, far more potent than a high-voltage grid.

Yang Ying approached and thrust his lightsaber forward, intending to test the energy net. As the blade sank into the membrane, it suddenly shortened by half. When he pulled the lightsaber out, the net instantly reformed. Yang Ying mused, What an energy net. Since the energy is non-corporeal, it resists the lightsaber's cutting. Furthermore, due to its massive scale, its power output exceeds that of the lightsaber; even the blade edge cannot penetrate it!

However, Yang Ying felt no concern; this was merely a static object, easily dealt with.

Yang Ying guided his lightsaber along the perimeter of the energy net, severing and destroying the energy net’s generator units. The net itself was ephemeral, but the generators were solid and susceptible to the lightsaber’s power.

After a full circuit, the energy net thinned rapidly and then vanished completely. Yang Ying approached the red door, stabbed his saber in, carved a circle, and reached out, pulling the two semicircular door halves free and tossing them aside.

Inside the room, the King and Queen heard the sound of the door being breached and immediately tried to see who had arrived. But because they were completely bound, they could not turn their heads to gain a proper vantage point.

Vati’s overconfidence in his foolproof trap, and his desire to make the lure more convincing—ensuring that spies within the palace relayed the news to the Flin Royal Family for the rescue attempt—led him to boldly lock the King and Queen on the tower’s highest floor, waiting for the Royal forces to fall into the snare. This, however, provided Yang Ying with the perfect opportunity.

“Are you the King and Queen of the Flin Kingdom?” Yang Ying asked via telepathy. “I have been employed by the Flin Royal Family to rescue you.”

Upon hearing this, the King and Queen displayed relief. Although they had steeled themselves for death, given a chance at life, both would naturally choose to live.