Return of the Crowned Heiress novel Chapter 357

Seven assassins were down, and ten remained.

The group leader felt a chill run down his spine. His wide, disbelieving eyes fixed on Felicia, who stood under the moonlight with an air of complete calm.

She was young, barely 19, yet her demeanor showed no fear or panic. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her sharp, clear gaze scanning the assassins as if surveying a corpse lineup.

The leader's heart pounded against his ribs. He had spilled enough blood to feel invincible, yet for the first time, he found himself shaken—by a woman half his age.

"Watch out for her poison!" he barked, masking his unease with a gruff shout. "Surround her! Take her down!"

The assassins, seasoned professionals, didn't hesitate. Despite the deadly toll Felicia's poison had already taken, they quickly recalibrated their strategy. They tightened their encirclement, avoiding the wind's direction and spacing themselves to avoid concentrated attacks. Their blades gleamed in the dim light.

Felicia rolled a small sphere in her palm, pretending to prepare for another throw. Her feint worked perfectly—one of the leading assassins flinched and sidestepped, breaking formation.

In that split-second distraction, Felicia flicked out a silver needle. It whistled through the air and embedded itself in the assassin's neck.

The scream died in his throat. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Nine more assassins left.

The leader cursed under his breath. His patience snapped, and he surged forward, knife in hand.

Before he could close the gap, however, another few assassins fell. This time, it wasn't Felicia's doing—it was Maurice's four bodyguards.

The guards, bloodied but unrelenting, had finally managed to free themselves. Now, with their backs to the wall, they fought with a ferocity that rivaled the assassins'.

Felicia didn't waste the opportunity. Standing back, she sent needle after needle flying, each one finding its mark with surgical precision.

The tide began to turn.

Ten minutes later, the battleground was silent.

Seventeen assassins lay motionless on the ground. Not one had escaped.