Episode 11
Zeke was momentarily taken aback by the drunk man’s words.
“Did he figure out my healing factor?”
His pupils contracted, and his muscles tensed at the unexpected situation. But soon, his “Steadfast Mental Defense” skill kicked in, allowing him to regain his composure.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
He had no idea who this man was, so it seemed wiser to feign ignorance rather than speak carelessly.
The drunk man smacked his lips, searching for any remaining alcohol, then dusted off his hands.
“Hmm… playing dumb, are we?”
And then, without warning, the man lunged at Zeke.
“An attack?”
Before he could fully register the assault, a sharp hand chop was already aimed at his face. Zeke rolled off the bed, narrowly dodging the strike, and kicked up the mattress to block the man’s view. As he hit the ground, he extended his leg to strike at the man’s knee.
Bang!
The man leaped into the air, rendering Zeke’s attack futile. Zeke quickly rolled under the bed and kicked it upwards.
Crash!
The metal bed frame flew into the air. Zeke used the opportunity to roll towards the door, grabbing the claymore he had propped up nearby.
Shing!
As he drew the claymore, Zeke was startled.
“What the…?”
The man was balancing on the edge of the airborne bed frame, performing a handstand as if it were a circus act. With a graceful jump, he pushed the frame back into place with his foot. This was no ordinary knight’s movement.
Zeke, holding his claymore, addressed the man.
“Who sent you? An assassin?”
He wondered if the man had been dispatched by other purebloods to eliminate him. The man, unfazed, scratched his ear and tilted his head.
“The more I see, the more peculiar you are.”
Ignoring Zeke’s question, the man slowly approached him. Zeke closed the distance with a swift step and swung his sword with lethal intent.
Whoosh!
The strike combined the acceleration of his swift step, the power of a decisive blow, and the strength of a champion. Yet, the man casually reached out and caught Zeke’s sword between his fingers.
“Hmm…”
Zeke tried to pull the sword free, but it wouldn’t budge.
“He’s no ordinary assassin.”
Realizing this, Zeke released the sword and stepped back. The man looked at the claymore caught between his fingers with curiosity.
“A Draker retreating and abandoning his sword?”
His voice was more curious than reproachful.
With a flick of his wrist, the man now held the claymore in his hand. Zeke changed his approach and asked the man,
“May I ask who you are?”
With such skill, the man was at least a Blue Knight, if not higher. Initially, Zeke had suspected him to be an assassin disguised as a healer. But his actions suggested he had no intention of killing Zeke.
“If he wanted me dead, I’d already be dead.”
The skill gap between them was vast. The man scratched his bushy beard and tossed the claymore back to Zeke.
Thud!
Zeke caught the heavy sword with ease. And then, the man vanished from sight.
“Behind me?”
In an instant, the man was at Zeke’s back.
“Could he be a Red Knight?”
Sweat trickled down Zeke’s forehead. The man placed a hand on Zeke’s shoulder and spoke.
“My name is Dexter.”
It was a name Zeke had never heard, even in his past life. Dexter leaned in and whispered to Zeke,
“Kid, if you ever feel like talking, come find me at the greenhouse on the west side of the academy.”
With that, Dexter’s presence vanished. When Zeke turned around, the man was nowhere to be seen.
“Who on earth is he?”
Cold sweat beaded on his back. It was the first time since his return that Zeke felt such despair. The only other time he’d felt this way was with his master.
“First time since my master.”
Even considering his current state was far from his past life’s prowess, Dexter’s skill was extraordinary. As Zeke sheathed his sword, he tried to recall any information from his past life that matched the man.
“Nothing matches with someone named Dexter.”
Then, a thought flashed through his mind.
“Wait, could it be him…?”
If his hunch was correct, it would explain why Andrei was at the academy now. Zeke’s eyes gleamed with realization.
A week had passed since Zeke’s encounter with Dexter. During that time, Zeke acted as if nothing had happened, avoiding the west greenhouse and focusing solely on his classes.
In the Dragon Slayer Basics training, he practiced in the private training room on the Platinum Floor, only emerging for other classes. Currently, Zeke was attending one of the few lecture-based classes at the academy: Magic Theory.
In the tiered lecture hall, the instructor passionately explained the properties of magic and the principles of spell manifestation. Most students showed little interest in theory classes, as practical skills were deemed more important.
However, Zeke diligently took notes, surprising even those who viewed him unfavorably.
“I didn’t realize how useful this was before, but now it’s making sense.”
In his past life, Zeke had been too overwhelmed by bullying and the difficulty of practical classes to focus on theory. After leaving the academy, he learned mostly through hands-on experience.
Now, with practical experience under his belt, the structured theory made intuitive sense.
“So that’s why hitting a mage’s magic formula with a shield can backfire.”
Zeke suspected the instructor wasn’t just any ordinary mage. As it turned out, the Magic Theory instructor, Fainan, was a scholarship student from Delphoa’s National Magic University, renowned for its magic.
Yet, Fainan had grown weary of the academy’s knight-centric environment. Despite being a genius at Delphoa, he chose the academy for its stable research environment, against the advice of many seniors.
“Sigh… there was a reason they warned me.”
Magic Theory was mostly a formality, and expecting enthusiasm from knight aspirants was unrealistic. Fainan had become mechanical in his teaching.
Then, unexpectedly,
“Professor, I have a question.”
Fainan thought he was hearing things.
“Ha, now I’m hearing things.”
But the voice came again.
“I didn’t quite understand the magic conversion mechanism you explained.”
Fainan turned around, surprised to find a student actually asking a question. Adjusting his glasses, he stammered,
“Ma-magic conversion mechanism? Which part?”
Zeke clearly articulated his question.
“Ah, for that, you need to adjust the magic constant.”
Zeke nodded, understanding Fainan’s explanation. Fainan was moved by Zeke’s comprehension after just one explanation.
“Is there anything else you’re curious about?”
Zeke asked a few more questions, and Fainan was impressed.
“Considering he doesn’t know the basics, these are quite insightful questions.”
Before long, the class had turned into a Q&A session between Fainan and Zeke.
Ding-ding-ding!
The bell rang, signaling the end of the theory class, and students rose for their next practical session. Zeke asked Fainan a few more questions before leaving.
“Wait a moment, Zeke.”
Fainan called out, and Zeke turned back.
“If you have more questions, feel free to visit my office. It’s in the research building, basement level two, at the very end.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
With Fainan’s encouraging gaze, Zeke left the lecture hall.
“He’s a young professor, full of passion.”
Zeke wasn’t sure if he’d have more questions, but he believed befriending a mage could only be beneficial.
“There’s nothing more useful than a mage as an ally.”
Mages were quick thinkers, adaptable in any situation. In contrast, knights often lacked flexibility, becoming burdens in crises.
Recalling what he’d learned from Fainan, Zeke stepped outside. On a bench in the courtyard, someone was lounging.
“That person is…”
As Zeke exited the building, Dexter slowly rose from his seat. Scratching his bushy beard, he looked at Zeke and said,
“The more I see you, the more interesting you become, kid.”
Zeke addressed Dexter.
“What brings you here, sir?”
Dexter stood up and replied,
“Kid, didn’t you hear what I said last time?”
Zeke met his gaze and answered,
“I did hear you.”
Dexter looked at him incredulously.
“Then why haven’t you come to the greenhouse?”
Zeke spoke in a calm voice.
“I’ve been busy with personal training.”
Dexter’s jaw dropped at his words.
After a moment, he closed his mouth, pondering something, then looked up at Zeke.
“Is that so.”
In an instant, Dexter vanished.
Even with his heightened combat senses, Zeke missed Dexter’s movement right in front of him.
Suddenly, Dexter appeared behind him and tapped Zeke’s neck.
“What the…?”
Damn it.
Zeke couldn’t finish his sentence before collapsing.
Dexter took the fallen Zeke and disappeared somewhere.
“Ugh…”
Zeke slowly regained consciousness.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the strong scent of grass and the sight of green leaves.
He sprang to his feet.
“Was I kidnapped?”
He scanned his surroundings.
“Where am I?”
Inside the glass-walled building, countless plants and trees were growing.
“Hey, kid, you coming to your senses?”
Turning his head, Zeke saw Dexter watering a tree.
Finishing up, Dexter took a swig from a potion bottle, the smell of strong alcohol wafting through the air.
“Ugh!”
Zeke addressed Dexter.
“Did you kidnap me?”
Dexter set down the watering can and replied.
“Yeah. Kidnapped.”
Zeke calmly surveyed the area at his words.
‘There’s an exit behind me, one to the east, and another across the way.’
Instinctively assessing his escape routes, Zeke began to move subtly.
Dexter, noticing this, grinned.
“Trying to run away?”
Once again, Dexter’s form disappeared.
Zeke instinctively rolled to the side.
“Hey, I’m right here.”
Dexter reappeared where Zeke had rolled.
Zeke assumed a defensive stance, wary of Dexter.
“Who exactly are you?”
Dexter grinned.
“If you can catch me even once, I’ll tell you.”
He gestured for Zeke to try and catch him.
But Zeke was thinking something else entirely.
‘Good. He’s taken the bait.’
Though he appeared to be a mere thirteen-year-old, inside, he was a seasoned warrior who had seen it all.
‘Dexter is just an alias.’
Zeke already knew his true identity.
That’s why he hadn’t sought out the greenhouse; he had lured him to come on his own.
‘His real name is the Knight of the Gale, Duke Draker.’
Zeke swallowed hard as he looked at him.
‘Once a black knight of the Draker family…’