Mercy in Blood
In the center of the Grand Drill Hall.
Kyle sat in the prepared chair, waiting in silence.
Legs crossed.
Chin resting on one hand.
His posture was relaxed, like a man idly waiting for some tedious spectacle.
Yet the drill hall was completely empty.
An hour had passed since he had issued the summons.
It was more than enough time to reach this place and accept the duel.
But no one had come.
Golden Lion.
Red Griffin.
Blue Tiger.
White Dragon.
Not a single member of the four knight orders stationed at the Northern Duke's Castle had shown themselves.
"Hah."
Kyle stared at the empty drill hall and let out a short, dry laugh.
'How predictable.'
It wasn't that he found it absurd. He was simply amused that everything was unfolding exactly as he had expected.
They were avoiding the duel without the slightest hesitation.
The reason was simple.
'If dozens or hundreds of them band together and stand defiant, even a madman like me couldn't do anything alone.'
The arrogance that Kyle, the insane eldest son, would be powerless against their collective resistance.
And the expectation that even if Kyle stepped forward himself, the current Grand Duke Roderick would intervene to protect the entire knight order.
They were relying on those two things.
'Hiding behind the many makes you safe, does it?'
The corner of Kyle's mouth twisted.
It was exactly the kind of thinking one would expect from the knights in those romance fantasy novels.
They wore honor on their lips every day, yet the moment they were at a disadvantage, they hid behind the crowd.
Reina, standing at his side, spoke quietly.
"The time has passed, my lord."
Kyle rose slowly from his seat.
"What will you do?"
Kyle picked up the sword that had been leaning against the floor.
"Go to my grandfather first and deliver the message. Then go straight to His Grace the Grand Duke as well."
A cold light flashed through his green eyes.
"Tell them that I will personally execute the cowards who refused the duel and fled, charging them with treason as well."
"As you command."
"I'll be dealing with the Golden Lion first. Come to me once your report is finished."
Reina gave a short bow.
Then she left the drill hall without hesitation.
Kyle listened to the sound of her footsteps fading away, glanced at the blade of his sword, and spoke.
"If you won't come to me..."
He let out a low laugh.
"Then I will come to you."
The hunting ground was ready. All that remained was to go and hunt.
In the waiting room of the Golden Lion Knights.
All the Golden Lion knights who had remained at the Northern Duke's Castle were gathered there.
Three upper-grade knights.
Twenty-five middle-grade knights.
Twenty lower-grade knights.
A total of forty-eight men.
Not one of them had gone to the Grand Drill Hall.
"Has the time already passed?"
"It has."
"Then he must be sitting there alone waiting right about now."
"Hmph. What can he do when none of us showed up?"
Light sneers passed back and forth.
They were not afraid of Kyle.
After all, they were not alone.
There were forty-eight of them here.
And it wasn't just the Golden Lion who had refused to move.
The other knight orders had done the same.
If they all stood together, even Kyle would be helpless.
That was what they believed.
Creak.
The door opened.
The noise inside the waiting room stopped instantly.
The one standing in the doorway was Kyle Hartvalt.
Sword in one hand.
He stepped inside with a leisurely gait and swept his gaze across the room.
The knights' faces hardened.
But soon, forced bravado rose in their eyes.
To Kyle, it was nothing more than baseless confidence.
Kyle gave a short laugh.
"You insulted me and my knight. Therefore, I demanded a proper duel."
His voice was not loud.
Yet it reached every person in the waiting room clearly.
"I also sent word that if you did not come, I would treat it as an insult to the heir and disobedience of orders, charging you with treason."
Kyle's gaze swept over the knights.
"And yet here you are, gathered so calmly."
He tilted his head slightly.
"The traitors are quite shameless."
Traitors.
At that word, several shoulders flinched.
They were remembering Baren's end.
But soon, one middle-grade knight stepped forward.
He was the very man who had shouted loudest earlier that His Grace the Grand Duke would protect them.
"Your words go too far, Your Highness the Grand Duke's heir."
He deliberately raised his voice.
"We are not traitors. The other knight orders also refused the summons. It means we all share the same will."
His chin lifted arrogantly.
"No matter how much you are the heir, if you force your will upon the entire knight order like this, His Grace the Grand Duke will never stand by idly. You should restrain yourself."
Kyle looked at him for a moment.
"Using the Grand Duke's name to justify disobedience toward the direct line of the ducal family."
He let out a short laugh.
"You've even added deception toward the Grand Duke himself."
Before he even finished speaking, Kyle's foot pushed off the floor.
Thud!
The waiting room floor rang out.
The next instant, Kyle was right in front of the middle-grade knight.
The knight's eyes widened.
Swoosh.
A chilling arc flashed past.
The middle-grade knight's head rose into the air.
His mouth was still open, as if trying to say something.
Splurt!
Blood gushed from the severed neck.
The head rolled across the floor.
Both eyes were filled with shock that could not believe what had happened.
A beat later, screams erupted.
"Aaaargh!"
"He's gone mad!"
"He really cut him down!"
"Draw your swords!"
Shing! Clang! Kang!
Swords were drawn from every direction.
Fury and terror filled the waiting room.
At that moment, a heavy presence rose from behind the crowd.
Derrickson Molt.
One of the upper-grade knights of the Golden Lion Knights.
He was also one of the upper-grade knights who had remained at the ducal castle instead of being dispatched to the battlefield.
A deep blue aura rose over his blade.
"Your Highness!"
Derrickson's face was twisted with rage.
"I cannot overlook this atrocity!"
Kyle lightly lowered his blood-stained sword and stared at him.
Derrickson ground his teeth.
"To cut down an unarmed knight's neck without any proper procedure! This is...!"
"Knight?"
Kyle cut him off.
It was a single short word.
But it was filled with blatant mockery.
"The moment you refused a proper duel without justification, you ceased to be knights."
Kyle slowly raised the tip of his sword.
"I gave you a warning."
A faint blood-red glow spread across his green eyes.
"From now on, I will cut down everyone except those who accept the duel."
That was the end of it.
There would be no more explanation.
No persuasion.
The warning had been more than enough.
All that remained was the sword.
"Subdue him!"
Derrickson shouted.
"Everyone, subdue that mad heir!"
The head of a comrade had just flown off in front of them on charges of treason.
Yet they still labeled their own actions as "subduing."
As if they truly believed they were in the right.
Kyle said nothing more.
He no longer even considered them knights.
This was now simply the disposal of traitors.
The five middle-grade knights closest to him charged first.
Swords wrapped in blue aura rushed toward Kyle all at once.
Kyle watched them and sneered inwardly.
'As expected of romance fantasy knights.'
They spoke of honor yet refused even the honorable duty of a duel.
They believed their own atrocities were justified.
Fools who only cared about looking impressive and showing off.
If they refused to come to their senses, he would simply kill them so they could start a new life properly.
Kyle considered this mercy toward those fools.
"I will kill you mercifully."
He prayed they would be born with proper minds in their next lives.
As the former Blood Cult Leader, he stepped into battle with such a merciful heart.
Clang! Kang!
He first deflected the sword coming from the front.
But he only blocked one.
Kyle leaned his upper body back, letting the left slash flow past.
He took a half-step back with his right foot, dodging the strike aimed at his leg.
Then he pushed away the third sword with the flat of his blade and twisted his shoulder to evade the fourth.
He deliberately did not dodge the fifth completely.
Swoosh.
The sword tip grazed his shoulder.
His black uniform tore, and a red line was drawn across his skin.
"We hit him!"
"Push him!"
Hope flashed in the knights' eyes.
Kyle silently adjusted his grip on the sword.
His body was not yet complete.
If one considered only pure physical ability, the current Kyle could not overwhelm this many knights in a head-on fight.
Especially in a prolonged battle, his stamina and aura reserves would put him at a disadvantage.
But Kyle had something else.
The combat experience of the Blood Cult Leader, who had crossed mountains of corpses and seas of blood, surviving tens of thousands of life-or-death battles.
Now that his body could imitate even a fraction of that experience.
It had become far easier.
Through yesterday's fight with Reina, he had grown once again.
Kyle deliberately moved a breath slower.
The knights saw it as an opening.
But it was bait.
Clang! Clang-clang!
Two swords barely grazed past Kyle's body.
Once again, fabric tore and blood welled up.
Every wound was calculated.
None of them were fatal.
"We hit him!"
"Good!"
"Keep pushing!"
Pain dug into his body.
And that pain immediately awakened the power sleeping within him.
Shuuu—
Blood-red aura thickened over Kyle's blade.
A blood-red glow spread across his green eyes.
It was then.
"Out of the way!"
Derrickson shoved the middle-grade knights aside and stepped forward.
He immediately began his attack.
'He thinks this is his chance because I'm injured.'
The strikes of an upper-grade knight were on another level.
The density of his blue aura.
The speed of his sword.
The pressure carried by his entire body.
His sword flew in as if it would sever Kyle's right arm.
Kyle's eyes narrowed.
He couldn't dodge it completely.
He angled his sword.
Kaaaang!
A metallic screech that tore at the ears exploded.
Kyle's body was pushed back.
Derrickson's sword tip sliced deep into his forearm.
Flesh split open and blood flowed.
Hot blood ran down the back of his hand and dripped.
At the same time, the other two upper-grade knights saw their chance and moved.
One from his left blind spot.
One from behind.
Kyle sensed their presence.
The movements of the upper-grade knights who had surrounded him.
"Good!"
"He's finished now!"
The knights thought they had seized victory.
Kyle was bleeding.
He was being pushed back.
Now the upper-grade knights were about to finish him.
At that moment, Kyle muttered quietly.
"...This should be enough."
His eyes were now completely dyed in a vivid blood-red.
The more wounds he took, the stronger he became.
The more blood he shed, the more ferocious he grew.
Yet he never lost his reason.
The self-created martial art of the Blood Cult Leader, completely different in nature from the martial arts of the Central Plains.
Blood Spirit Divine Scripture.
Its power manifested once again.
The next instant.
Kyle's figure vanished.
He shot forward at a speed even the upper-grade knights could not react to.
Taat—!
One upper-grade knight's eyes widened.
In the center of his vision, the blood-soaked Kyle suddenly appeared.
Before he could even react, Kyle's sword moved.
There was no flashy trajectory.
No large motion.
Just the shortest possible thrust, driving straight toward the throat!
Stab!
Kyle's sword pierced through the upper-grade knight's neck.
