Chapter 141: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (5)
Chapter 141: Dragon's Eye, Human Heart (5)
Explosions and shockwaves mingled, creating a cacophony of shattering sounds.
Immediately after, ear-piercing screams rang out. They were the cries of pedestrians on the street.
The air bursting from the epicenter swept through the surroundings with a sharp crack. Clothes and hair fluttered wildly in the gale.
The sheer force was unbelievable, far beyond what one would expect from a single woman being slammed into the ground.
Only after the ringing tinnitus subsided did the dust gradually begin to settle. The view of the explosion's source finally grew clear.
Only one shadow stood there. Indifferent golden eyes emerged alone through the hazy mist.
Ian Percus. There was no change in his expression.
Perhaps "bored" was a more fitting description. He carried himself with an attitude that suggested he had merely done what was natural.
He scanned the surroundings with weary eyes.
Countless people stood frozen.
Cien, the escort knights, and even the passing pedestrians stared blankly, their gazes shifting between Ian and Irene, who was crumpled behind him.
The stone road was riddled with cracks. At the center of it all, Irene groaned and writhed. Even that was a struggle; the impact had been so great that a mere twitch was her limit.
It had taken only a single strike.
A capable Imperial Guard, sworn to protect the noble bloodline, had been rendered combat-ineffective. Though three more remained, it was undeniable that Irene was the strongest among them.
A belated fear pooled in the eyes of the remaining Imperial Guards.
This wasn't the level of an Academy third-year. Regardless of the quantity of his mana, its quality and his level of control were in an entirely different league.
Could he be a hidden Master?
Of course, the thought was absurd. Masters were beings who transcended humanity, and the depth of their mana was as vast and unknowable as the ocean.
Compared to that, the martial prowess this man displayed was a mere pittance.
However, the very fact that he made them entertain such an impossible thought proved the insurmountable gap between them.
He was an incomprehensible existence. They couldn't even fathom the method he had used to suppress Irene.
The Imperial Guards instinctively backed away. With just one exchange, Ian's danger level had skyrocketed beyond measure.
Feeling fear was unavoidable.
Seeing this, the man swallowed a hollow laugh. He looked genuinely appalled.
Suddenly, his golden eyes turned fierce.
"The Imperial Guards are in a sorry state... Come at me all at once. I'll stick to using my sword."
Then, with a sharp ring, he drew his blade.
Despite Ian's provocation, the Imperial Guards hesitated for a moment. Then, they glanced at Cien, the liege they were sworn to protect.
Cien was still dripping with water, staring at Ian with a dazed expression.
She looked far too pathetic for a princess.
Only then did the Imperial Guards seem to find their resolve. They exchanged nods and immediately kicked off the ground.
Thump. With a dull impact, the distance between them vanished.
Three swords descended upon him simultaneously.
It might have looked cowardly, but Irene, the strongest among them, had already been defeated. It was clear this wasn't an opponent they could face while clinging to their pride.
A knight order's strength did not lie solely in individual capability. While that was important, the true terror of a knight order was revealed in their joint strikes.
Even without their swords, each knight was more than qualified to be called a human weapon. They were beings who had dedicated their lives to the way of the sword, transcending the limits of the physical body.
And there were three such knights. The chemical reaction of their trained coordination had to be calculated as a multiplication, not a simple addition.
It was the same now.
Though they seemed to strike at once, the three knights' blades occupied subtle differences in timing and direction.
The first sword swung horizontally.
The second sword swung vertically.
The final sword was a thrust, aiming for the gap between the first two trajectories. The sound of it tearing through the air was fierce, clearly aimed at a vital point.
Even if he evaded the first and second strikes, the structure of the attack forced him to take the final blow. It was a maneuver that required precise calculation, but they executed it through the sheer weight of their repetitive training.
Until then, Ian remained silent. He simply watched their onslaught in silence.
Just as the three threads of light etched into his golden eyes drew near—
A sudden upward kick slammed into the first horizontal strike.
Clang! The sound of the collision echoed through the slowed passage of time.
It wasn't the kind of sound flesh and metal should make when they collided. The outcome was no different.
It was the sword that couldn't withstand the impact.
As the trajectory wavered violently, the posture of the first knight became unstable.
The second vertical strike that followed was naturally forced off its path. Piercing through that opening was Ian's sword, moving like a flash of light.
Thuck. The blade buried itself in the second knight's shoulder. The knight's mouth fell open, unable to bear the pain. His face contorted as if he were about to scream.
But the sound failed to escape. The exchange between experts had to be faster than that.
Ian closed the distance by one step.
A sickening crunch rang out. Ian had retracted his sword at an angle and used the pommel to shatter the elbow joint of the third knight who was attempting the thrust.
It was a bizarre sight. The knight had surely thought he held the advantage, yet his sword was now passing harmlessly by Ian's side.
It looked as if space itself had been distorted.
Two steps. Ian delved deeper into the knights' reach.
As if waiting for this, a downward slash swung toward him.
It was the first knight, the one who had been kicked. Even with his posture broken, he was swinging his sword with all his might.
But Ian was faster.
He had only taken two steps, yet the man was already right in front of the knight. His sword was faster still.
A silver line was drawn across the knight's arm, and the mark immediately began to bloom with blood.
Splash. The erupting spray of blood signaled the end of the battle. Time returned to its normal flow.
One, two, three. As if measured by a precision clock, the three knights collapsed on top of each other. The way they fell one by one made them look like mere bundles of straw.
By then, Ian had already passed the three knights. He sheathed his sword.
"Aaaaaagh!"
"Urgh, aaack!"
The knight whose arm had been slashed and the swordsman whose shoulder had been pierced were obviously unable to continue fighting. However, the knight with the shattered elbow joint gritted his teeth and forced himself up.
But the moment he tried to swing his sword with his remaining hand—
Whoosh. His body tilted forward as if being pulled. He didn't know why. All he could see was Ian's hand gripping his shoulder.
What happened next was obvious. It was a scene he had already witnessed.
The knight's eyes were instantly flooded with terror.
Boom! A thick cloud of dust billowed up.
Ian waved his arm to clear the dust as if it were a nuisance. The time it took for him to finish off the remaining three knights was a mere few seconds.
Unless one possessed a trained eye, it was impossible to even tell what kind of exchange had occurred. The pedestrians only saw the result.
"Aagh, my—my arm!"
"Kh... ugh..."
One knight was wailing, clutching a severed arm as blood poured out; another was clutching a pierced shoulder; and the last was unconscious, face-down on the ground.
It was a scene of carnage created by a single man. A chilling shiver ran down the spines of the onlookers.
Having effortlessly broken through the Imperial Guard's joint strike, the man continued to walk forward without hesitation. Leaving the knights' screams behind, he came to a halt at a certain point.
He stood before Cien, who was still dripping with water. Her expression had now settled into a frigid stillness.
It was the polar opposite of her initial, friendly impression.
Her face was steeped in a primal melancholy and coldness. Even that was beautiful, but the sneer on her lips had a way of chilling one's heart.
Facing that thorn-like smile, the man spoke in a flat tone.
"The level of your escort knights is disastrous. They seem to be in need of some mental discipline."
At those words—whether they were a mockery or advice—Cien swallowed a laugh. It was a laugh as cold as ice.
It was cold enough to make one wonder if the droplets falling from the tips of her dark blue hair would freeze mid-air.
"...I underestimated you. That was my mistake, Sir Ian."
The Princess no longer used the title 'Senior.' It seemed she was intentionally emphasizing the status of the person speaking.
Normally, a lower noble would have started trembling. No matter how far down the line of succession she was, royalty was royalty.
If she set her mind to it, she had the power to erase a rural viscounty without a trace—provided she had the will and the time.
Cien's voice that followed was beyond cold; it felt indifferent. Her voice, devoid of any emotion, formed a flat rhythm.
Ian's state was not much different. Thus, their conversation felt like two wax dolls talking to each other.
"...Can you handle it?"
"What must I handle?"
"The wrath of the Imperial family."
There was no rise or fall in their voices. This made the atmosphere even colder.
The Princess's light gray eyes stared at Ian in silence. Water continued to drip from her dark blue hair.
"Do you know when a human is at their most terrifying? It's when they have malice and begin to torment someone... that's when you see their true bottom. I've seen it countless times. And I know very well what humans desire and fear most."
Ian gazed at the Princess. His closed mouth showed no sign of opening.
Despite being threatened by royalty, his attitude remained perfectly composed. Perhaps finding that infuriating, Cien's threats grew even more intense.
"I will destroy your family, the people around you, and everything you have ever loved. That is my specialty."
"...How much will you need?"
It was a sudden counter-question.
Cien's brow furrowed slightly. Her expression asked what he meant, but Ian simply asked again in the same flat tone.
"Time, I mean. How much time will you need to destroy everything I have?"
"...Three months."
Her voice was laced with a chilling resolve. A wounded beast of prey was that terrifying.
The confidence that she could destroy everything a person had in just three months.
It was a threat that made even the bystanders' blood run cold. Yet, not a single tremor of agitation could be found in Ian. He simply stared at the Princess in silence.
"Three months is plenty. But fortunately, you still have a chance."
The Princess took a step toward the man.
Ian still showed no reaction. His eyes carefully observed the pupils of the woman, which were tinted light gray.
Two steps. They were now within arm's reach. In a voice barely audible, the Princess whispered to the man.
"Right here, right now, kneel and kiss my feet. Become my loyal dog... bark when I tell you to bark, and die when I tell you to die."
"And if I do?"
"You can have everything you want. Money? Power? Women? Take your pick. The Imperial family has that kind of power."
Only then did a short, dry laugh escape the man's lips. Then, he threw out another question.
"And if I don't?"
"...I told you, didn't I?"
A cold sneer once again formed on the Princess's lips. She whispered.
"I won't stop even if you beg and cry. Starting with your family, I'll make everyone, even your closest friends, suffer... Did a mere lower noble think he could touch the Imperial family and walk away unscathed?"
She had even dropped the formal speech. It was a threat curdled with blatant hostility and hatred. The man closed his eyes as if amused.
"Three months, then."
Ian nodded slowly. It was a sign of understanding.
The Princess took a step back, indicating that the time for a decision had arrived.
In that split second, as the distance between the Princess and Ian widened—
Ian's hand moved toward his waist. It was a speed that couldn't be reacted to even with eyes wide open. In the blink of an eye, a hand axe was drawn.
A trajectory shot out like a bolt of light.
The Princess's eyes flew open, and then—
"Aaagh! Noooo!"
Along with a spray of blood, the woman's piercing scream erupted.