Deathly Chaos

Blood spurted out of Yaron's heart like a spray of water from an elephant's trunk, as he fell on his knees. Blood was also dripping down the corner of his mouth.

"Lord Yaron!" The four guardians of the Eridu society shouted in unison, and quickly stepped forward to check Yaron's injury.

Wulfgar held the bronze hand cannon, frowned, and asked in confusion, "You did this on purpose? Why did you want to die?"

Yaron's mouth was full of blood, and he grinned, looking very coquettish. "Wulfgar, I knew this day would come. But if I, Yaron, are going to die, I can only die through the silver cannon in your hands."

"You know about the hand Cannon?"

"Yes, I do. It was a forbidden experiment too, but Wulfnar kept pursuing it. Anyway, my death is a deserving one."

"Why?" Wulfgar pondered for a moment, and suddenly seemed to have thought of something, and asked sharply: "Seven years ago, how much did you know about the deathsin Chestford?"