Sron screamed in fury as he swung his sword wildly.
He pulled out a hidden dagger from his cloak and hurled it, while also unleashing bursts of dark magic energy.
But no matter what he did, he couldn’t land a hit on Saned.
It was a strange style of swordsmanship. Saned’s blade moved with a will of its own, like the head of a serpent, following every strike, disrupting the trajectory of attacks, and countering with precision.
No matter where Sron struck, it was like hitting a wall—completely impassable.
From an assassin’s perspective, a duel of spears or blades could be exploited. One could use the brief moment when the opponent attacks to slip past and ambush the target.
But now, none of that seemed possible.
To Sron’s eyes, Saned was like a massive shield filling his entire field of vision.
There was no way he could reach the King of Briol beyond him.
Sron stepped back and scanned the other assassins.
Except for one who had fallen, there were still seven of them. They couldn’t afford to lose to that one.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
His demeanor shifted.
Saned noticed the change and took a step back, raising his sword.
“Hmm…”
Sron made no effort to control the dark energy boiling inside him. He let it surge through his entire body unchecked. The suppressed core’s dark power began to run rampant, moving as it pleased.
His body swelled.
Anyone who had ever felt the power of dark magic knew there was no way to resist it.
This time was no different.
“I’ll hold him. Go after the King.”
With that, Sron charged at Saned.
He unleashed a flurry of wild attacks, his sword seeming to split into multiple blades as he sought any opening. Saned parried each one with ease.
In a brief instant, dozens of exchanges took place.
Meanwhile, the assassins scattered, trying to slip past Saned’s head.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Saned twisted his body and struck down one assassin. His blade flashed through the air, piercing the assassin’s body.
The corpse fell.
As Saned turned to pursue another target, Sron leapt onto his back.
Blood splattered.
Sron slashed a long cut across Saned’s back, but it wasn’t fatal. Saned twisted away, evading the attack, and stabbed back into a vital spot.
Both men rolled on the ground, bleeding.
Sron thought Saned wouldn’t be able to move after that.
But Saned quickly got to his feet and chased after the remaining assassins. Sron followed, late to the pursuit. In the chase, Saned caught another assassin.
Their blades clashed.
Saned dodged, but the assassin didn’t. The assassin’s body was split open.
Still, the assassin resisted until the very end, his convulsing grip clutching Saned’s body.
Sron attacked Saned again.
“Die!”
Saned grabbed the dead assassin’s body and threw himself sideways.
Sron’s sword cut through empty air.
Saned rolled on the ground, shaking off the corpse, then rose. Sron pressed the attack, but Saned only dodged, refusing to engage.
Soon, Saned resumed chasing the assassin group.
Sron seethed with anger.
“You damn gnats!”
“That’s you.”
Saned was fast. By the time Sron barely reached him, Saned was already attacking another assassin’s back.
But this time, the assassin was quick to respond. Just before Saned’s blade could strike, he twisted and countered, their swords clashing.
In that brief opening, Sron slashed Saned.
Blood sprayed from Saned’s shoulder.
“Tch!”
Saned kicked Sron back, creating distance.
Sron stumbled, then pushed off the ground and leapt, bringing his sword down vertically toward Saned’s head. An assassin struck from the side, slashing across Saned’s ribs.
The two blades formed a cross, striking down on Saned.
At that moment, Saned slammed his sword into the ground, releasing a burst of sword energy.
The energy swelled into a translucent barrier, exploding the moment it met their combined strike. The shock threw Sron and the assassin backward.
Saned wasn’t unscathed either.
Breathing heavily, battered and torn, he walked toward Sron.
“You’re annoyingly persistent.”
“Heh heh heh…”
“Funny?”
“Of course.”
Sron kept laughing.
Though there had been sacrifices, they had succeeded in holding Saned. The assassins who escaped would surely try to kill Joshua.
“I’ve won.”
Saned frowned.
“Are you an idiot?”
“What?”
“Do you think you’ve won just because you caught me? What about the Royal Guards?”
“The Royal Guards are nothing…”
“‘Nothing’ again?”
Sron’s face hardened as he spoke.
He hadn’t thought much of Briol’s Royal Guards. He had looked down on Saned, their captain, and hadn’t even considered the others.
But Saned was unexpectedly strong.
There was no reason to believe the rest of the Royal Guards were any weaker.
Then, a voice interrupted.
“Ow, my bones…”
A Royal Guard appeared, covered in blood, dragging the corpse of an assassin behind him.
“Captain, what are you doing alone?”
“The others?”
“They’re handling things on their own.”
“Now that you’ve been around a while, you’re slacking off.”
“Slacking off? I’m always ranked high in the ‘Friendliest Guard’ votes. I was even Guard of the Month last month.”
“I see.”
The newly arrived guard glanced at Sron and the assassin, then smirked.
“I don’t think introductions are necessary between us. But if you’re curious, I’m Rosso of the Royal Guards. You can call me Sir Rosso.”
Rosso touched his eyebrow with a finger, then drew his sword in greeting.
Sron took a deep breath.
Things had clearly gone wrong.
It was strange. He had gained power close to the Ten Strong through dark magic, yet had achieved nothing.
How was this possible?
Had there ever been an era when so many powerful warriors gathered in one nation?
The Empire had dark magic as a tool, but Briol didn’t even rely on that.
Sron muttered to himself.
“This is impossible…”
Rosso replied.
“Impossible, isn’t it?”
One by one, more Royal Guards appeared.
Before long, they were surrounded on all sides.
Sron gritted his teeth.
Now that it was clear Saned was a warrior near the Ten Strong, they had to finish this quickly.
But it was already too late.
Sron realized his time was up.
“Impossible, huh? Yeah, I guess so.”
“…”
“Suddenly quiet? Lost for words?”
Sron lost his fighting spirit. Though he barely felt emotions, he could still think logically. He rationally accepted that he had no chance of winning.
One question remained.
Why hadn’t the Empire predicted this outcome?
Behind them stood a great figure.
The master of dark magic, the one who had given them new life.
He knew everything, and there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.
So why had this happened?
“We went through the same thing. Long ago.”
Saned smiled.
“A few years back, it was unbelievable. A very young prince suddenly joined the Royal Guards, challenged us to spar, fixed that lazy Jared kid, and later even defeated the prince’s champion warrior. Then he got insanely strong. Even I, the captain, couldn’t handle it. That’s when I realized—this is impossible. It just doesn’t make sense.”
Hassan caught his breath.
Behind Saned’s shoulder, Hassan was being dragged along, limp and helpless.
A sharp-eyed man threw Hassan to the ground and crossed his arms, watching.
Sron fully accepted that everything had gone wrong.
Saned continued.
“So this impossible thing started happening a long time ago. If you’re only realizing it now, it’s too late. Don’t you think?”
Cedric sat deep within the palace, eyes closed.
He was performing the most dangerous ritual since unlocking the secrets of dark magic.
Originally, he had planned to proceed slowly, step by step, but the situation had grown urgent, leaving him no choice.
His plan was this:
Seize control of the Empire, create an army that felt no fear, and rapidly expand their territory.
Along the way, brainwash the entire population to mobilize the nation’s full strength for war.
Then wage a conquest across the entire continent, using the blood spilled on battlefields, the endless deaths, and the mounting despair as offerings to perform a forbidden ritual.
But from the start, he had been blocked.
As if anticipating everything, his younger brother had rallied the other nations of the continent into a coalition.
They formed a united front, and the Empire struggled to break through.
Though he hadn’t committed all his forces yet and still had reserves, he never expected things to be this difficult.
Especially devastating was the recent annihilation of the troops amassed on the eastern front.
So when Ivar sent assassins to kill Joshua, Cedric thought this might be the turning point.
But—
“Failed.”
Cedric opened his eyes.
Ivar spoke to him.
“I’m sorry, but the assassination attempt failed.”
“Is that so?”
Cedric rose calmly.
The torchlight flickered against the stone walls.
“How?”
As Cedric asked the question, he was already picturing the situation in his mind.
If the assassins led by Hassan and Sron had failed, it was probably because of Bernard and Saned.
But were they really that strong?
Bernard was nicknamed the Sword Ghost, but he hadn’t reached the level of the Ten Strong. The same went for Saned.
Cedric was good at sizing people up.
He could identify a person’s talents, understand their innate nature, and calculate just how far they could go.
To him, humans were basically just monkeys. Yet a rare few, blessed with both talent and nature, could develop genuinely useful abilities.
Bernard and Saned fell somewhere in the middle.
Bernard lacked exceptional talent but was obsessively devoted to the sword, achieving only half-measures. Saned, on the other hand, had great talent but a weak disposition, preventing him from reaching the highest heights.
Cedric had thought that Hassan, modified by dark magic, and Sron would be more than capable of succeeding.
Even if they failed, he believed they could at least deal a fatal blow to Briol.
But that wasn’t the case.
“Wow, the king suffered no injuries, and the surviving assassins were captured,” came the report.
“Was there anyone else involved? Like Yurina or Moyongchan?”
“No, both of them are still at the front lines.”
Cedric couldn’t understand.
His calculations were almost never wrong.
Not out of arrogance, but because he truly could grasp everything perfectly just by observing.
Even human limits were within his control.
That’s why this outcome was so hard to accept.
Without the aid of dark magic like Hassan and Sron had, how could those two have become so strong?
Then, suddenly, Cedric realized.
“Ah…”
The one person who always defied his calculations, the only human he truly favored.
Yuri Briol.
His younger brother.
Cedric let out a dry laugh.
“This is bad…”
The worldview he had built in his mind was starting to crack.
The future he had envisioned didn’t account for the variable named Yuri Briol.
No, he had considered Yuri to some extent—he knew the boy influenced those around him.
But Cedric had been far too naive about it.
He had dismissed the unpredictable factor that his adorable little brother brought as nothing more than a trivial amusement.
“Yuri, you really are something else…”
Only now did Cedric begin to understand.
He had suspected it vaguely before, but now he was certain.
Yuri Briol.
Anyone whose life path crossed with his began to change fundamentally.
Like a butterfly’s wings stirring into a raging storm.
Yuri was completely transforming the people around him.
And this process had been underway for a very long time.
“Yuri, you possess something far worse than dark magic.”
Cedric had once thought of Yuri as a gift in his dull life.
But now it was time to admit he had been wrong.
It wasn’t a gift—it was something far more terrible.
Cedric turned his head toward the table, where a fist-sized orb lay—the sealed sphere containing Fiore, who was asleep inside.
Staring at it, Cedric muttered bitterly,
“Father, what exactly did you bring into this world? Was I not monstrous enough for you?”