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Arjen ignored Georg’s scolding and sat beside Iris and across from Nella. ‘The smell of blood was thick.’ Georg thought as he glanced at the Mercenary. Black hair, with even darker eyes. He looked at ease. It would be normal to believe that a man who walked around with such a thick scent would be uninterested in the world’s affairs.

“Let’s get started.”

Arjen was a reasonable man. He was soaked in blood and had seen the world through his own eyes. At least, Georg felt he was. And most of all, personality and looks and everything else aside, Arjen was strong. Absolutely ridiculously strong. Stronger than even the Hero.

“I’ll handle this alone.”

While he didn’t admit it, he cared about his companions, even if it was a party of people he had never met. There was also a touch of loneliness behind his eyes. That was Georg’s impression of Arjen.

He wasn’t the kind of man who would point a sword at someone for no good reason.

The sound of metal bending woke Georg from his stupor. He looked up to see Arjen crushing his shield. He had instinctually raised it when he felt the bloodlust from his side. Arjen’s eyes showed madness, exuding a shattered black aura.

“Sturdy shields are a nuisance.”

Georg used more power in his left arm. Arjen did not back down easily. Instead, he pushed back against it, trying to pierce the shield. But it didn’t break.

“Haa!”

Georg cried out, using his weight to push Arjen away. Arjen clicked his tongue and stepped back. Georg couldn’t lose ground; he had to protect Daphne and Marianne behind him. They were slowly healing what they could. Until then, he would have to deal with the monstrosity alone.

“You’ve always been faithful, even after I was banished.”

Arjen spouts out in rage. As far as Georg was concerned, his anger was misplaced.

“It’s a part of my ethics. Don’t be arrogant to act like you were everything to the party.”

Georg spoke forcefully and straightened his posture. He planted his feet on the ground and pushed his shield forward. The guards thrust their spears forward, slowly closing the circle around Arjen.

“Put down your sword. It is not too late.”

“No, it’s too late…it’s too damned late, you clueless bastards.”

Arjen shook his head and laughed bitterly. The aura on his sword grew thicker and thicker. Light and space shimmered in a mirage of compressed magic.

“I do not care whether you live or die. You wouldn’t understand even if I tried.”

Bloodlust surged from him. It was enough that he could kill citizens just by pointing his sword at them. Georg made his judgment and raised his hand.

“Everyone, retreat!”

Georg’s voice echoed down the center of the Capital, and the soldiers froze in place. Arjen watched the scene, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“But, my lord, reinforcements will be here soon. The strongest knights of the Capital are on their way.”

“I will hold him off until they come. Take Daphne and Marianne and retreat at once.”

Arjen drove his sword into the ground and listened to the conversation. The soldiers hesitated, unable to follow Georg’s firm orders.

“It’s frightening, really. The best knights in the Kingdom want to capture me.”

The soldiers had not yet retreated. Georg gripped his shield tightly, trying not to let his nerves show. The initiative was Arjen’s. Georg watched him and waited. Arjen didn’t move. It was making the atmosphere more ominous.

“Then how about this?”

Arjen drew his sword from the ground.

“I’m afraid of the coming knights, so I’ll run.”

Georg’s pupils dilated, and his head whipped around to the direction Arjen fled. The sword, like a brush, drew black lines in the air. The line sliced through the men’s necks, arms, waists, thighs, and chests. A trickle of blood followed the path of the sword.

“You madman!”

Georg chased after Arjen. Reason, rationality, context. There was no time to think about what was happening now. Arjen was a gust of wind. A breeze with a sword. A tempest that tore through flesh and stripped bones. Georg threw himself into the eye of the storm.

Sword and shield clash. Georg stood his ground. Arjen’s blade must be contained, or another man would die.

Georg slammed the mace down from above with his body and weight. Arjen did not meet him this time. He dodged and shifted his feet again. The guards tried to drive their spears into the fleeing Arjen’s back, and each time they did, the sword cut through the soldier’s body. Arjen exerted no effort against Georg and did even less against the soldiers.

“Hahahaha. You guys are like moths to a flame.”

Like a crucian carp moving through a lake, Arjen pushed his way through the men. Georg gritted his teeth and drove the whip deeper into his heart. His body felt a little lighter, and he moved faster. Georg eventually caught up to Arjen’s leisurely steps. With one swift thrust of his shield, Georg slammed Arjen against the building. Arjen’s eyes widened in surprise, and his eyes met the falling mace.

The building collapsed. Georg raised his mace to strike one more blow before Arjen could get away, but all he saw was rubble.

“Not fast enough, Georg. You’re a long way off.”

The voice came from behind him. Georg instinctively swung his arm back. Arjen inspected him slowly as if he’d been waiting for this moment. Georg’s eyes locked with Arjen’s. He saw the smile that had vanished from Arjen’s eyes.

“What do you think the world will become?”

“I didn’t think you were the kind of man who worried about such things.”

Arjen kicked Georg’s shield, and Georg took a step back.

“You know nothing of what lies behind the salvation you seek. No one in this world knows!”

Arjen raised his sword. In the distance, he heard the sound of running. It was the knights. Arjen waited for them, his expression bored.

“This could be fun…”

The arriving knights drew their weapons. Swords, spears, halberds, maces. The clinking of metal filled the streets. Their anger was the highest it’s ever been.

“You don’t realize how useless those emotions are.”

Arjen was like the sheer cliffs on a beach. It grew sharper as the knights’ blue aura crashed against it. Arjen’s gaze swept over each knight, analyzing their skills and measuring their power. He stood still, seemingly weighing the odds.

“-! He’s gone!”

“Where di-!”

An eerie metallic sound rang out. A crimson line was drawn across the neck of the knight at the head of the line. Blood flowed from his neck and his mouth almost simultaneously.

“What the hell-!”

“Get him!”

Arjen was suddenly in the center of the group of knights. Their weapons didn’t get tangled, and the knights were undisturbed. As if remembering their training together as knight cadets, they moved in unison against Arjen. The one with the shield stepped forward. Those with spears flanked those with swords, complementing each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Their auras resonated, reinforcing each other.

“I suppose you are the Kingdom’s best knights.”

It even surprised Arjen momentarily. The knights had morphed into a single organism, a system designed solely to kill Arjen.

“Head.”

A simple word, or rather, a command. Five spears rushed toward Arjen’s head. Spears with the power of siege rams flew faster than arrows. Arjen swung his sword wildly, deflecting three and dodging two. Then, a pair of halberds rose from behind, poised to slice his back.

Arjen wildly spun around and struck them. The resulting shockwave forced the knights back.

“He’s swinging hard on purpose to create space.”

Georg muttered.

“It’s a great way to deal with large numbers, but the knights’ are no slouches. The pressure on him must be intense.”

Arjen chuckled.

“I think we have a fight on our hands.”

Arjen’s voice came from above. By the time the knights looked up, it was too late. A black, swirling web of aura rained down on them. The knights scattered, trying to parry Arjen’s attack. Those who were not skilled enough were cut down.

“Not as good as I expected.”

Arjen descended. Another shockwave rippled through as his feet touched the ground, knocking the knights off their feet. Even in a one-on-many situation, he was in no hurry. From one knight to the next, he moved swiftly, his sword gnawing away at them, preventing them from taking the offensive.

Slash after slash after slash. Some of the knights parried, but only a few attacks before falling. All the blood that flowed was theirs. Georg tried to catch Arjen unprepared and swung his morning star, but he dodged and cut Georg’s wrist. The wound stung and throbbed. Then suddenly, the knights and Arjen were in a strange confrontation, like wolves surrounding a bear.

“I have a question.”

Arjen looked around at the knights and spoke.

“Do you really believe that the Hero can save this world?”

“Of course!”

An elderly knight immediately answered Arjen.

“The Holy Sword has chosen him. You saw it with your own eyes, yet you still doubt!”

The knights clinked their weapons menacingly in agreement. The Hero was now in a realm inviolable to both the Queen and the people. Arjen sighed.

“There’s a difference between the Holy Sword and the man.”

Arjen spoke warningly.

“Remember it well. You don’t know what you’re relying on, and when you do, only then will you realize my actions………”

“You’ve killed dozens of knights and soldiers.”

It was Georg’s voice that cut Arjen off. He wiped the blood from his face, roughly stopping the flow, and began to stagger toward Arjen.

“You just slaughtered as many knights as were killed when the Meteor approached.”

Georg’s words were thick with anger. A dark aura, unlike any he had ever exuded before, leaked from his feet.

“You have no right to even open your mouth.”

The corners of Arjen’s mouth lifted in a sneer at Georg. He roared and ran. His aura was darkening from blue to navy blue. One must remain calm in the face of emotion. Georg thrust his shield forward.

Unable to dodge, unable to parry, Arjen met it head-on. He frowned slightly at the shock that hit his arms. Something within Georg changed. Arjen was pushed back, marks of him gliding on the ground. He increased his speed and power.

Dozens of blows were exchanged in the space of seconds. Georg followed his instincts, attacking and blocking.

Just a little further. Just a little more.

“That was pretty impressive.”

A wound appeared on Georg’s shoulder. He could feel the blood trickling down, but it wasn’t deep.

“Ha-!!!”

He forced himself to raise his shield and block Arjen.

He pushed his sword away, creating an opening.

Georg swung his weapon, and Arjen stepped back.

He’d then move his shield forward.

Blood splattered, and Georg realized it was his blood as he fell to the ground.

‘Why am I falling? Something’s wrong with my balance? I can’t keep my feet on the ground. Something was wrong with my right leg.’

Georg’s massive body crashed to the ground. His whole body is bleeding. He could feel eyes staring down at him. He looks up and sees Arjen staring at him, expressionless.

“It seems you are destined to die here.”

Die? Georg pondered Arjen’s words in his blurring vision. The sword in his hand rose high.

“Farewell, former comrade.”

His sword fell.

But it didn’t meet Georg.

Arjen’s sword was intercepted in midair. Arjen pushed down harder with a sickening smile, but the other blade in his path didn’t budge. He looked to his left, where a person held a sword with one hand.

“At last, you’ve shown up.”

The look on Elroy’s face was one Georg had never seen before. For the first time, the Hero’s eyes held killing intent. The world seemed to freeze for a moment. It somehow went even slower in his gaze. Arjen smiled with the utmost nonchalance.

“Long time no see, Hero-”

And with that, Arjen shot into the air in a fountain of blood.