012 (Vol 4) HxH: Tombbound Power

Furykov, thinking there was no harm in skimming off the top, gave orders to the First Prince's soldiers without the slightest hesitation.

From that moment on, the lower-ranking princes were inevitably dragged into the fray.

The soldiers who received the orders began preparing in grim silence. Their blades were sharpened, their eyes cold and focused. Without hesitation, they turned their sights on the vulnerable, powerless princes.

None of them felt even a flicker of guilt. For them, helping His Highness the First Prince ascend the throne was the only thing that mattered.

And so, the assassination campaign began—merciless and absolute.

...

"What did you just say?!"

CRASH!

Benjamin hurled the wine bottle in his hand to the floor, where it shattered with a sharp crack. Shards of glass scattered across the room.

His face twisted into a scowl, skin taut with fury.

"All the soldiers sent to assassinate the princes… were killed?!"

"Y-Yes..." Furykov stammered, drenched in cold sweat.

"All communications from the soldiers have been cut off," he continued. "Either they've been intercepted by the princes' Nen beasts or their personal guards, or..."

"Or they were killed," Benjamin growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He stood abruptly, pacing back and forth like a caged beast.

Originally, he'd used his inherited Nen ability Secret Window to track the princes' movements and pass intel to the assassins.

But those soldiers never even got close. Not only had they failed, they'd been wiped out before reaching their targets.

And now Furykov dared to report that they hadn't even seen the princes before being eliminated?

"How dare they!" Benjamin barked, laughing coldly, his aura flaring like a blade drawn in fury.

"What should we do next, Your Highness?" Furykov asked cautiously.

Things were spiraling fast. Their forces were stretched thin to begin with—and now this failure only made it worse.

Benjamin's face darkened further.

Ever since Balsamilco, the military advisor he relied on, was killed, everything had begun to spiral out of control.

"Find out what happened to the soldiers. Alive, dead, I don't care—track them down. I want a full report."

"Y-Yes, understood!"

...

But the truth wasn't complicated.

Except for the Thirteenth Prince Marayam, the rest of the lower princes were all under Ronnel's protection.

Back when Benjamin and Halkenburg first clashed, the Tenth Prince Kacho had used the Eleventh Prince Fugetsu's Nen ability Magical Worm to transport herself, her mother, the Sixth Queen Seiko, and a group of guards—including Melody and Clone No. 3—into Fugetsu's territory to avoid the conflict.

Any soldiers who tried to attack them were swiftly taken out by Ronnel.

If he said he'd protect someone, he meant it. No gaps. No mercy.

As for the Twelfth Prince Momoze, Benjamin's orders still went through, but the soldiers were desperate to complete the mission—and rushed headlong into a trap.

They were intercepted by Clone No. 4 and wiped out without a trace.

...

Then there was the Thirteenth Prince Marayam. Though not personally protected by Ronnel, he was under the watch of seasoned Hunters.

Hanzo and Leorio were among his bodyguards—both qualified Hunters, veterans of the Hunter Exam, with powerful abilities and sharp instincts.

When the private soldiers monitoring Marayam began their move, Hanzo and Leorio detected the anomaly immediately and engaged them.

After a tense fight, both Hunters sustained minor injuries but managed to subdue the assailants.

What happened to that soldier afterward didn't need to be explained.

...

In the end, Benjamin's attempt to eliminate the lower princes and claim their guard forces failed completely.

Tserriednich and Halkenburg, who had both been monitoring Benjamin's movements, quickly caught wind of what had happened.

Tserriednich, of course, was ecstatic.

The moment he got the news, he was practically glowing with smug delight—so much so that even King Nasubi, seated at the head of the table, seemed slightly overwhelmed by his attitude.

In Tserriednich's mind, this was further proof that he was the true chosen king.

Ever since he joined the succession battle, Benjamin had been suffering one defeat after another. Clearly, fate was on Tserriednich's side.

"Of course. Only I am fit to be king."

He was drunk on victory—already displaying the classic signs of someone whose hubris was spiraling out of control.

...

Meanwhile, Halkenburg had a more tempered reaction.

He exhaled in relief at Benjamin's failure, but quickly frowned. With Benjamin weakened, Tserriednich's momentum would only increase.

And if that continued, Tserriednich's rise would become unstoppable—unless the other princes began to form alliances.

Halkenburg realized that alone, no single prince could withstand Tserriednich's growing power.

But there was a problem: Benjamin was unlikely to agree to any alliance after the harsh words they'd exchanged before.

So Halkenburg hesitated... and instead turned his sights to Prince Luzurus, the Seventh Prince.

Benjamin could wait. For now, Halkenburg needed an ally who could strengthen his own position and buy him time.

...

But no one expected Tserriednich to act so fast.

Fueled by delusions of grandeur, he immediately launched his next move.

Luzurus, being his full-blooded brother, seemed like the perfect target for a political merger—and Tserriednich didn't waste time.

The situation was shifting rapidly once again.

Now, it was clearly one "superpower" and several struggling contenders.

Tserriednich was firmly in the dominant position, while the others—Benjamin, Halkenburg, and Luzurus—barely held on.

It was only a matter of time before things started falling apart.

...

By the time the fourth royal dinner arrived, Tserriednich couldn't have looked more pleased with himself.

He sat with such arrogance and confidence that anyone unfamiliar with the court might've mistaken him for the actual King of Kakin.

Even King Nasubi, seated at the head of the table, cast a long, quiet glance in his direction...

Meanwhile, Benjamin kept his expression stiff the entire time, his face carved in stone—offering no warmth to anyone present.