“Yes, you bastard…”
Hasan’s eyes snapped open, blood trickling down his face.
Bernard’s skill had far exceeded his expectations.
So he waited for the other assassins who should be attacking the King of Briol from the opposite side. Sron, a formidable fighter, was leading them.
With Sron by his side, Hasan believed they could somehow turn this around.
But no news came.
“…Huff.”
Catching his breath, Hasan leveled his sword at Bernard.
Bernard wasn’t unscathed either. He’d taken wounds while killing two assassins. Yet, as if those injuries meant nothing, he approached with a sinister smile that sent chills down Hasan’s spine.
To Hasan, this man was insane.
A man obsessed with the sword, one who had become one with it.
Bernard spoke.
“Thanks to you, this is fun. A real fight only happens when you risk your life. I’m grateful—you’ve reminded me what it means to be alive after so long.”
“Crazy bastard…”
A strange gleam flared in Bernard’s eyes, pressing down on Hasan’s heart.
Though black magic dulled his sense of fear, Hasan found himself involuntarily stepping back.
“Damn it…”
Suddenly, Hasan hated the country of Briol all the more.
They had always stood in his way.
The day he was chosen as Georg’s great warrior, when he felt like he could soar through the skies, was shattered by defeat at the hands of Yuri Briol. Since then, all he’d lived for was revenge.
But Yuri Briol had grown stronger, forcing him to grit his teeth once again.
And now, he was being stopped by that very man’s teacher.
He would have his revenge.
He had to.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Hasan took a deep, ragged breath.
There was no time to dwell on problems without answers.
He had to find a way out of this. Even if the solution seemed crude or desperate, he had to do something.
The only breakthrough he could think of was to wait for Sron.
Sron was as skilled as Hasan.
Though his mastery of the core arts was lacking, his body was naturally suited to absorb black magic deeply, allowing him to transcend limits.
Bernard was the only real threat here; Sron would arrive soon.
With that calculation, Hasan decided to buy time.
“What’s this?”
Bernard chuckled.
“Waiting for the others, are you?”
“…”
“You really think your friends will win?”
Meanwhile, Sron, leading the rest of the assassins in Hasan’s stead, faced the royal guards outside the king’s chambers without a flicker of hesitation.
Not just because black magic had stripped away his human emotions. Even with a normal mind, he wouldn’t have been fazed.
Because he was strong, and they were weak.
Just as a praying mantis doesn’t panic when it raises its forelegs, no matter who stands in his way, nothing changes.
They just had to be killed.
Sron gave a silent signal.
The assassins moved soundlessly, surrounding the guards.
“Hmm…”
The guards tilted their heads.
“Caught but not running? Confident, are you? Not ordinary assassins, huh? Must be the Empire’s doing.”
Sron said nothing. He pointed at the guards and made a finger-snapping gesture.
The assassins swung their swords.
The clash of steel rang out.
But the assassins couldn’t cut through. The guards opened the door and slipped inside the chamber.
“After them.”
Sron dashed in before the door closed. His figure blurred as he entered the king’s chambers.
His eyes scanned the room quickly.
No one was there.
“His Majesty isn’t here. We’re late.”
One guard said.
It seemed the king had evacuated while they were stalling. Sron grabbed one assassin by the shoulder.
“Take care of them.”
“Yes.”
He meant to kill the guards. After assigning the task, Sron moved on to find the King of Briol.
“Find the king.”
He wasn’t never here to begin with. The disheveled bed was proof.
Either Hasan or their intrusion had been discovered, and the king fled immediately.
Sron leapt out through a window into the corridor.
The assassins scattered in all directions.
After surveying the area for a while, Sron heard a whistle from another assassin.
At the signal, Sron and the others changed course.
Passing several buildings, Sron soon spotted the King of Briol moving under guard.
He charged forward.
They had to finish this before more troops arrived.
But someone blocked his path.
“You won’t go any further.”
It was the same guard from before.
Sron frowned. He’d left a subordinate behind, so he didn’t understand why this man was here.
“I killed your subordinate.”
Only then did Sron look closely at the guard.
He didn’t look strong at all.
Just an ordinary man, the kind you’d see anywhere. His face was unremarkable, with a patchy, half-grown beard that gave him a lazy air.
Sron recalled the intel he’d skimmed before coming to Briol.
With Fiore and Yuri Briol absent, no one in the palace was skilled enough to be a real threat.
There were a few names mentioned.
Like Bernard, the swordsman who taught Yuri Briol.
But he hadn’t been active for a long time, and even with black magic, he wasn’t strong enough to beat them.
Black magic had leveled up everyone in the Empire.
Hasan and Sron already wielded power close to the top ten warriors.
Granted, it was thanks to black magic, but their strength was undeniable. If Yalta hadn’t died, he might have even reached the top ten in his place.
The other assassins were roughly at the level of the Empire’s knight commanders.
Black magic had caused a literal arms inflation.
Meanwhile, other nations, lacking black magic, remained at their old levels.
So Bernard wasn’t even a real concern.
The captain of Briol’s royal guard was named in the reports, but Sron hadn’t paid much attention.
They were all about the same.
Or so he thought.
Sron asked, “Who are you?”
“Me? Don’t you know?”
“…”
“Of course not. This is Briol’s royal palace. And naturally, the one guarding the king here is the captain of the royal guard.”
He introduced himself.
“I’m Saned, captain of the royal guard.”
Sron raised an eyebrow.
He’d expected a formidable opponent, but this was the same captain mentioned in the reports.
Saned had never made a name for himself publicly, nor on the battlefield. Since joining the royal guard, he’d wasted his life rotting away in the palace.
In contrast, Sron and the assassins had undergone brutal training, mastering killing techniques capable of taking down the Empire’s knight commanders. With black magic, they’d gained power close to the top ten.
So Sron hadn’t bothered with some palace guard standing by the door.
He came to a conclusion.
“You must have let your guard down.”
“What?”
“Foolish to be stopped by a mere royal guard.”
“‘Mere’?” Saned snorted, drawing his sword. “It’s the royal guard’s job to take down assassins like you.”
Sron ignored him and looked away.
Annoyed by the blatant disrespect, Saned snorted again and raised his sword.
“You bastards…”
At Sron’s command, the assassins charged.
The clash of weapons echoed.
Sron signaled.
“Release all restraints.”
The king was slipping further away. As assassins who had sharpened their blades for this day, there was no reason to hold back any longer.
Their bodies swelled, transforming into monstrous, muscular forms.
Bodies enhanced by black magic could unleash explosive power for a short time.
They would eliminate this insignificant captain and then kill the King of Briol.
Sron thought so as he pushed his own body beyond its limits.
In a rough voice, he ordered, “Take care of that guard quickly. I’m going after the king.”
“Ha, these bastards…”
Ignoring Saned, Sron moved to charge the king.
But suddenly, the man was standing in front of him again.
Sron couldn’t process what was happening and swung his sword instinctively.
Saned blocked it, and sparks flew from their clashing blades.
Sron stepped back, eyes wide.
The energy he felt from Saned’s sword was heavy.
Something was off.
As Sron hesitated, Saned spoke.
“Times have changed, haven’t they?”
He muttered to himself.
“Such strange times.”
With every word, his sword strikes grew stronger. At first, Sron easily blocked them, but gradually he tensed his muscles and focused on Saned.
“Monstrous knights have appeared, and the young prince has grown stronger than me. It’s truly unbelievable.”
The assassins lunged at Saned on Sron’s behalf.
Saned’s sword traced graceful arcs.
It was like a dance.
His flowing blade deflected every attack aimed at him, slipping through the enemy’s openings.
Saned closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
A dazzling sword aura swirled around him.
“What… the hell…”
Sron realized the truth.
They’d been misinformed from the start.
This so-called captain of Briol’s royal guard, barely known by name, was actually a swordsman as powerful as the top ten warriors.
Sron was taken aback.
“Y-You’ve been hiding your true strength all this time?”
Saned burst out laughing.
But Sron couldn’t bring himself to laugh. He hadn’t heard that Saned was this powerful.
According to the plan he’d received, the captain of the royal guard was described as a fairly ordinary knight—roughly equivalent to a knight commander in the empire, or perhaps even a rank below that.
From Sron’s perspective, he wasn’t worth worrying about.
But the Saned standing before him was different.
Though he kept his emotions tightly controlled, the unexpected situation left Sron’s instincts useless.
He glanced around nervously, waiting for Hasan.
“Maybe so,” Saned said.
While Sron was still confused, Saned stepped forward, twirling his sword with ease.
“I’ve gotten stronger over time.”
“How…?”
“I thought I was finally reclaiming the traditions of the royal guard. But then, Your Highness Yuri succeeded the late king. That pushed me to grit my teeth and train harder than ever. See this sword?”
Saned lifted his blade.
“The day I became captain of the guard, it was personally bestowed upon me by His Majesty, the late King Fiore Briol. When I received this sword, I swore to dedicate my life to the Briol royal family. To live for Briol, and to die for Briol. That’s the very spirit of the royal guard.”
Sron found himself crushed beneath Saned’s overwhelming presence.
Saned grinned slyly.
“Let me tell you something. It might seem obvious, but because of my shortcomings, the tradition was broken this time around. But originally…”
Saned moved forward. His steps were casual, like he was out for a stroll, but to Sron, it felt like a giant was closing in.
There was no choice.
Sron shattered another golden seal within himself.
As his body swelled with power, Saned chuckled softly and continued.
“Briol has always been a land of knights.”
“Shut up!”
“To protect the sovereign from countless powerful foes—and from vermin like you—there had to be a knight stronger than any other. Stronger than all.”
“Enough!”
“That’s why, traditionally…”
Sron couldn’t bear the pressure any longer and charged.
Saned met him head-on, raising his sword with a smile.
“The captain of Briol’s royal guard is the strongest in all of Briol.”