Chapter 15. Crimson Fang (4)
Episode 15. Red Awl (4)
Sion swiftly reloaded and slipped into Jefren's blind spot.
Then.
At the decisive moment.
Bang!
He fired a bullet straight into the distracted Jefren's back.
"Guhk!"
Yet even after taking a direct hit from a specially crafted shotgun, Jefren remained largely unharmed.
Though he didn't seem particularly skilled at manipulating mana, his physical resilience had already surpassed human limits.
'Strong.'
Sion glanced at Louis, Bwindol, and Bill. Talented knights. But currently, they seemed unlikely to land a hit on Jefren.
So Sion provoked Jefren further.
"Where you looking, you pathetic bastard! In the end, you let all your underlings die while you survived alone!"
"...Shut your mouth. Worthless spawn of incompetent blood who created this hell."
Jefren's face twisted in rage. Yet he didn't act recklessly.
Instinctively, he'd realized—if he left himself open to ambush, a knight's sword would be far deadlier than any shotgun.
His expression seemed to say:
'Chasing me now is exactly what he wants.'
The more Sion kept his gun trained on Jefren, the more the tension between them stretched taut.
'Look at this bastard. Not taking the bait.'
Meanwhile, Louis, Bwindol, and Bill regained their footing and reformed their ranks. Their swords gleamed with aura.
"Stay sharp. He's fast. And strong."
Louis issued the warning, and the other two knights nodded. Seeing this, Jefren smirked and taunted them.
"Damn. Knights acting this cowardly. No wonder you're all failures. Defenders of justice, my ass—!"
Bang!
Sion fired at Jefren mid-sentence.
"Shut up. You're not even human anymore."
A vein bulged on Jefren's forehead. Sion burned the sight into his memory.
'He's taking the bait.'
Though he didn't have unlimited bullets, in a battle like this, well-placed shots and sharp words could steadily wear down an enemy's resolve.
And in that regard, no one could match Sion.
"Jefren. You're strong. Nearly on par with an Intermediate Knight. But you'll never truly reach that level. Know why?"
"...What are you getting at?"
Sion smirked.
"Because knights are noble beings. Not mongrel half-breeds like you."
Rage darkened Jefren's face. He couldn't refute it—it wasn't wrong. But the truth only infuriated him more.
"You're no knight. Just a tangled mess of grafted parts. All you can do is swing that oversized sword fast and dumb. But leave an opening, and you're full of holes. Pathetic. You gave up your pure flesh for this hodgepodge, and this is all you amount to."
To Sion, Jefren's flaws were glaring. But to the less experienced Beginner Knights, those gaps were invisible.
"...You little half-wit. You're begging for death."
"Then come get me, mongrel. Or are you scared of a half-wit? Need to run to the bathroom? Too bad. I won't give you the time."
"Fine! Die!"
With a thunderous crash, Jefren lunged—not at the knights, but at Sion.
Even if a knight's sword was threatening, letting Sion keep taunting and shooting was worse.
Of course, Sion wasn't about to take it lying down. He fired at the charging Jefren and dodged.
Bang! Crash!
"...!?"
"Can't even catch a half-wit, you mongrel!"
Sion was faster than Jefren had anticipated. Thus began a relentless chase between the two.
Meanwhile.
Louis Dykken shouted:
"Bill! Keep him pressured! Bwindol! Flank with me!"
Bwindol and Bill instantly recognized whose tactics these were.
Sion Carsen.
The one effortlessly directing the flow of battle.
'How is this possible? Are the Grand Duke's bloodline really this monstrous?'
And so, the four-on-one battle raged on. The knights exploited Jefren's openings with their swords, while Jefren fought them off and pursued Sion.
Clang! Clash! Boom!
As the knights' assault intensified, Jefren tried shifting focus back to them—only for another bullet to find him.
Bang!
"Grahh!"
Jefren was baffled. This had been a winning fight. How had it turned? And—
'That gun and ammo belonged to one of my lieutenants. Did they really have this many rounds? I thought I just had to endure a few shots—where are they all coming from?!'
Sion Carsen. The bastard who killed the Hashiman brothers and exposed the Red Awl to the world. That damnable bastard.
Jefren couldn't comprehend it. Was Sion Carsen really just a half-wit?
Doubt took root.
As the battle dragged on, Sion and the knights steadily whittled away at Jefren's strength.
But Jefren wasn't about to go down quietly.
'At this rate, I'll lose.'
So.
"...All or nothing."
Jefren dropped his greatsword.
Hiss— Hiss—
Blue steam erupted from his body—a sign of mana going berserk. Everyone present understood instantly.
Jefren was pushing past his limits. Survive this assault, and victory would be theirs.
But holding out was easier said than done.
Whoosh.
Jefren vanished from sight.
"Looking the wrong way?"
"...!"
He reappeared behind Bwindol and drove a fist into his back.
Thud!
Bwindol hurtled through the air and slammed into the factory wall. Louis and Bill moved to assist, but Jefren was already gone.
Crash!
Bill's head was smashed into the floor.
"Bill!"
Bill didn't respond to Louis' shout. He was out cold. Louis despaired at the sight.
'Both taken out in one hit.'
No chance of winning now...
Then—prickles. Every hair on his body stood on end. Louis whirled around to see Jefren's fist descending.
But Louis resisted to the end. His innate talent let him raise his sword just in time to deflect the blow at an angle.
Wham!
The impact still sent him reeling. As Jefren moved in for the kill—
Bang!
Sion's bullet struck Jefren's back with searing force.
"...Right. You're still here."
Jefren turned to Sion. But something was wrong where the bullet had hit.
Whoosh—
Flames erupted across his body.
"...!"
In truth, Sion hadn't used bullets since the third shot.
He'd drawn mana from his Holy Wheel, shaped it into flames, and compressed it to its limit—firing condensed fireballs.
"What the hell—"
Stab! Louis drove his aura-clad sword into Jefren's throat.
"...Ghk. Gahk."
Jefren clutched his bleeding neck with one hand and kicked Louis away.
Wham!
"Ugh!"
Louis crashed into the wall, buried under rubble. Though not unconscious, he was stunned. How was Jefren still moving after a throat strike? Was he even human?
Then—
Schlick!
Jefren's shoulder joint was slashed open, blood spraying—followed by crimson flames.
Whoosh—
Sion Carsen had stepped forward, sword in hand. As Jefren staggered, clutching his throat and flailing wildly, Sion flowed like water around his attacks, relentlessly targeting every joint.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
Whoosh—
Flames burst from each severed joint. The sight was unreal. Was this really the same foe three Beginner Knights couldn't touch?
Sion made it look effortless.
"You damn—!"
Jefren snarled in fury, but Sion didn't relent. It was as if he was systematically dismantling Jefren's body joint by joint.
Hiss— Hiss—
The steam pouring from Jefren's body began to thin. His movements grew stiff.
Schlick!
With one final strike, Sion seemed to completely destroy Jefren's joints. Jefren collapsed to his knees.
"This... can't be..."
"It can."
Sion cut him off coldly and drove a fist into his skull.
Crunch!
"...Ghk!"
Jefren lost consciousness.
Louis Dykken stared blankly at the scene. What... What did I just witness? Was that really Sion Carsen?
It felt too surreal.
Not only had Sion Carsen defeated Jefren—he'd captured him alive. Without a single scratch on himself.
Meanwhile, Sion remained impassive. He simply walked over to Bwindol and Bill, administering healing potions.
When the knights came to, they quickly assessed the situation.
Jefren—completely incapacitated and unconscious.
"What... Did I dream this?"
"...Same."
"Louis. What the hell? This isn't anything like you described."
"No idea."
Louis Dykken's mind was pure chaos. How? The question kept surfacing, but one thought persisted:
—No matter how closely you watch, you can't see every move. So go ask. Listen. Find out.
Then, the dispatched agents returned. The three fleeing lieutenants had been captured.
Reinforcements arrived too. They took over cleanup, while Sion Carsen knelt, pressing a hand to the floor with closed eyes.
"What's he doing now?"
"Still don't get it?"
"...Mana Detection."
"What?"
"What are you talking about? Mana Detection?"
Louis nodded. The other knights swallowed dry laughs, realizing he wasn't joking.
"Let's go."
Louis Dykken.
Bwindol Rieugen.
Bill Holtsman.
The three knights approached Sion.
The way they looked at him now was starkly different from before the operation.
Bow.
All three bent at the waist, heads lowered.
"What's this?"
"We owe you our lives. Lord Sion."
For knights, bowing was never a casual gesture.
Only two occasions warranted it: swearing loyalty, or repaying a life debt. This was the latter—their gratitude for survival.
Sion silently observed their salute. The moment felt... novel.
Memories surfaced of his past life—when he'd leaned on the hollow prestige of the Karsen name. Not even properly, just half-heartedly. The respect he'd failed to earn then had finally circled back to him.
Slowly, Sion spoke.
"No need for thanks. Had I fought Jefren alone, I'd have lost. This victory belongs to you—for standing your ground against a stronger foe."
His voice carried conviction.
"Though I'm not yet a full-fledged knight, my father once said: Knights are noble beings. Strength defines them, but it isn't all they are.
The relentless pursuit of martial excellence, the courage to face superior foes—that is the essence of knighthood."
Sion truly believed it. Without magic, this fight would've been far harder. Their efforts had made victory possible.
But the knights couldn't know his thoughts. His words resonated deeply within them.
"Forgive me. I misjudged you."
"I see you clearly now, Young Master Sion."
"...I, too, was mistaken."
Suddenly, the knights were apologizing. Sion studied them silently before abruptly turning away. A thought struck him:
'Arrogant bastards. Just how much trash did you talk about me before?'
Still, he didn't feel displeased.
In fact, it felt... good.
While agents handled cleanup, I combed the Red Awl's main hideout with Mana Detection.
Thump, thump—
My heart pounded again. Was this normal? It hadn't happened before. No idea.
After an exhaustive search, I finally uncovered their secret chamber.
Creak—
Disabling several mechanisms, I opened the hidden passage and descended with the agents.
A vast laboratory greeted us. Corpses in various states of dissection lay scattered—no living hostages remained.
"Research on implanting mana engines into human bodies... How vile."
After a quiet curse, I surveyed the lab. The research was shockingly crude.
'With methods like these, they couldn't have achieved anything.'
As I continued investigating, I found a journal.
『J-76 Revenge Journal.』
"..."
I flipped it open. The entries began with the tragic account of "Bulka," a shepherd boy from the northern frontier, and how he became the test subject "Jefren."
Masked men suddenly stormed in, brutally murdering his parents and beating him and his younger sibling half to death before dragging them away. Though Bulka cooperated with experiments to protect his sibling, one day, he found the child's cold corpse.
Curses against the researchers.
Hatred toward a certain organization.
The desperate need for power to destroy them—all scrawled in jagged, furious script.
Jefren.
He wasn't Post Iron's pawn. He despised them. An escaped test subject.
A wretched man who became a villain to take revenge on greater evils.
Thud.
I closed the journal.
Set it down.
"There's no forgiveness. But—"
To prevent humanity's extinction.
To destroy the absolute evil known as the Demon King.
'I'll take your vengeance for you.'
The power and authority needed—
The Inspection Bureau's Special Investigation Headquarters.
The condition to form it—
The Golden Star Tournament was just around the corner.