Chapter 196
Chapter 196. Ambush. (4)
“You’re saying… my sword is incomplete?”
“Yeah. Anyone can see that.”
When I spoke with fury boiling over, Hardin simply shrugged his shoulders and answered nonchalantly.
Incomplete.
Hardin’s words dug into my psyche—and they struck right on target.
Because for someone from a collateral line like me, that word was nothing short of a reverse scale.
I ground my teeth and spat out my response.
“Then I’ll show you. Whether it’s truly incomplete or not.”
“If you’re so confident, go ahead.”
“…Fine.”
Sheeeesh.
I twisted up a crooked smile.
Fwoooosh!
Once again, I imbued my sword with a crimson aura.
“Let’s see you die to this ‘half-baked’ sword.”
Fwoooosh! Fwarrkk!
My blade ignited into flame again as I unleashed a relentless flurry of strikes.
From within the massive blaze, fire erupted non-stop with every motion—a storm of flames.
Kaang! Kaang!
Hardin parried the blows just barely, and a serious expression flickered across his face.
‘Dragon Flame Frenzy.’
A secret technique from Ignima’s legacy—a sword art that reproduced the erratic and violent movement of fire itself through chained strikes.
It was a technique that gave the opponent no chance to counter or escape, overwhelming them through sheer, unrelenting offense.
However, what made it unusual was…
‘Did this bastard… modify Dragon Flame Frenzy?’
His footwork, his breathing, even the angle at which the sword came down—
Every slight detail of each strike differed from the Dragon Flame Frenzy I had once known.
In terms of overall polish, it was inferior to the original.
But…
‘In a way, this version is actually harder to deal with.’
At the very least, I had faced the original Dragon Flame Frenzy countless times during my days as Varlach.
But this modified version that this bastard had come up with—should I call it unpredictable, or just plain sinister?
‘Annoying bastard.’
Shlak! Shaaak!
His blade grazed past my armor and cheek, heating my skin red.
A single misstep and I’d be on a one-way trip to the underworld. It was a deadly tightrope act.
“How’s this for a half-baked sword?!”
Kaang! Kaang! Kaaang!
He kept up the pressure.
As if determined not to leave even a sliver of hope, he unleashed a seemingly infinite barrage of strikes.
Hardin silently gave ground.
Expressionless, he blocked and dodged, always keeping an eye out for the right moment.
And that attitude—
‘Don’t make me laugh. A mutt from some third-rate family…’
Only stoked my fury even more.
Because the way Hardin looked at me was exactly the same as how the mainline always looked down on me.
How many dozens, how many hundreds of times did his sword lash out?
“Die, you third-rate.”
With the corners of my mouth twisting upward, flames burst violently from my sword.
‘Dragon’s Breath!’
The final blow that marks the climax of Dragon Flame Frenzy.
A devastating technique that rendered all forms of defense meaningless—incinerating the target in an instant and reducing them to ashes.
By right, this was a secret that should never have been passed down to someone from a collateral line, but I had succeeded in mastering it.
The results I achieved after serving for so long as the Lord’s hunting dog.
‘There’s no way some lowlife like him could withstand this.’
He thrust his sword forward with utter confidence.
Fwoooosh!
The flames surged forward, stretching out as if to reduce his opponent to ashes.
At that moment—
Kaaaaang!
Hardin once again caught the blow with his sword.
‘Stupid bastard, I’ll shatter that sword of his along with it!’
Just as a euphoric, almost ecstatic expression rose on Jubilen’s face—
Hardin murmured softly and swiftly.
“That sword will never beat me.”
What nonsense is that?
Even in the moment of his death, that bastard still hadn’t come to his senses…
And then it happened.
‘Rip Current.’
A type of counter technique that absorbs the opponent’s force and turns it into one’s own power.
Against someone who didn’t know the nature of this technique and tried to overwhelm it with brute strength… there was no better move.
The ripples of a wave stirred more violently through Hardin’s blade.
Then, as if it had never been there at all, the flame that had been clinging to the sword dissipated—transformed into a blue light and scattered.
‘W-What the hell is this?!’
That energy was drawn straight into the sword held by Hardin, and then—
“I’ll make good use of your strength.”
Shwaaaaak!
Hardin thrust his sword forward in return.
Jubilen tried to defend himself in a panic, but—
KWWWWWAAAAAH!
‘A… a tidal wave?’
A massive wave rose before his eyes and crashed down on his body.
Crack!
His sword and armor shattered into pieces.
The wave, as if still not satisfied, swept his body back and rolled him violently across the ground.
Jubilen was hurled dozens of meters back before slamming into the ground.
“Grrrghhh…”
His entire body in tatters, he trembled uncontrollably.
When he forced his eyes open and looked ahead, he saw Hardin approaching him.
“Wh… What is this madness…?”
What the hell just happened?
Did I just lose… to that third-rate family bastard?
There’s no way something like this should’ve happened!
What kind of dirty trick did he pull?
His thoughts tangled up like a knotted thread.
But one thing was clear. At this rate… he was going to be killed by that lowborn Young Master from a third-rate family.
‘No… I won’t let it end like this.’
He searched his garments and pulled out a small black pill, no bigger than a thumbnail.
A sweet fragrance wafted from the object.
—
“If you ever find yourself in danger, try using this.”
“What… is this?”
“A trump card, you could say… for calling upon a demon.”
—
It was the same object Count Vernian had once handed out—something that could awaken the power of a monster.
If he swallowed this now, he might still be able to bring that bastard down…
Just as he brought the pill to his lips—
CRRRAAACK!
“Gah-huurk!”
A sword came crashing down from the air and slashed through his arm.
Thunk!
The pill dropped to the ground.
But Hardin… was standing all the way over there?
“What the… what the hell are you doing?!”
Turning my head, I saw Lucilis, the Vice-Captain of the Imperial Knights.
The strength drained from my face.
‘Ah… So this is the end.’
If he was here, that meant the Imperial Knights had already stormed in this far.
The time limit had completely run out.
“Ha… Hahahahaha!”
I let out a crazed, maniacal laugh.
Then I rushed forward again, trying to scoop the black pill into my mouth with my jaws—
Paaahk!
“Guhh!”
Hardin, who had closed the distance before I noticed, kicked me flying.
Crack!
And then he crushed the pill on the ground without hesitation.
“Young Master Hardin!”
“Just a moment.”
Lucilis asked with a concerned look, but Hardin simply gestured and strode toward me, grabbing me by the collar.
Sssssss!
With his mana-infused palm, Hardin cauterized my severed wrist to stop the bleeding.
Then, gripping my collar, he asked:
“Was it you? Did you do all of this?”
“What… are you talking about?”
“Was it you who summoned Kreveion into our lands? Who attacked Princess Medeia? Who gave Count Vernian that cursed drug? I’m asking if it was all your doing.”
“That…”
I couldn’t answer. A grimace formed between my brows.
Sparks began to crackle from Hardin’s fingers.
“Talk. If you don’t speak now… I’ll make you wish you were dead.”
There was a terrifying expression on his face—one that words couldn’t fully describe.
And there was no doubt he meant what he said.
Just as my lips began to tremble—
“Guuhhk! Guhuhhuk!”
Suddenly, my eyes rolled back, a blue light surged out of them, and I started convulsing violently.
“What… what’s happening?!”
Lucilis cried out in shock.
Hardin quickly tore open my upper garments.
There, glowing on my chest, was a magical brand emitting a faint light.
‘Son of a…’
Hardin’s brow furrowed.
It was a magic sigil engraved onto those bound by a contract—essentially slaves or those under absolute subjugation.
If that mark activated in such a way…
‘If he tries to reveal the secret, he dies.’
Hardin placed his hand over the magic sigil and poured mana into it, trying to suppress it.
Then he shouted urgently:
“Mage! Someone get the mages, now!”
“Y-Yes!”
Lucilis nodded and turned to dash in the other direction.
Fwoooosh!
“Damn it!”
Flames erupted from my body—and in moments, my corpse began to burn away at frightening speed.
“What in the world is going on?! Why is a human body…?”
Vile bastards…
Hardin took a step back with a disgusted scowl and stared at the blazing sight.
Before long, all that remained was a pile of ash.
Now, all evidence that Ignima had launched the attack—had vanished completely from the world.
“Goddamn it…”
Hardin clenched his fist, his body trembling with rage.
At that moment, a voice rang out from behind.
“Y-Young Master!”
“Are you alright?!”
When he turned his head, he saw Beryl, Mikkelsen, Manton, and Jerry walking toward him with relieved expressions.
Only then did Hardin finally relax, a faint smile forming on his face as he said,
“Geez… Took your damn time, didn’t you bastards?”
---
Capital of the Daphne Empire, Pavillonia.
As expected of the capital, it naturally housed the best goods and the finest talents in nearly every field.
But even among those, if one had to name a few particularly exceptional areas, there was one that absolutely stood out.
That was—healers.
“Ow ow ow! Hey, be gentle with that ointment!”
“I have to apply it thoroughly so it penetrates deep. Stop whining.”
“I’m not whining, it seriously hurts!”
As the healer applied ointment to his forearm, Mikkelsen practically went berserk, putting on a dramatic show of pain.
Jerry, who was nearby, squinted at him and spoke while chewing down some medicine from the tray.
“Keep it down, would you? My ears are gonna fall off.”
“How am I supposed to stay quiet when it hurts like hell?!”
“Oh, quit whining—”
This time, Beryl cut in, raising his voice.
“Whining? It hurts like hell, okay?!”
With his entire body wrapped in bandages, he definitely looked like he was in bad shape.
Watching from the side, Manton shook his head as he leaned against his bed, reading a book.
‘Embarrassing. Truly embarrassing.’
And meanwhile—
“Healer, I’m fully healed. Can I go now?”
“I told you, no! This is an order from His Majesty the Emperor!”
“Geez, overreacting much.”
“Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“Nothing, nothing. Didn’t say a word.”
What kind of man is this…
The healer attending to Hardin let out a deep sigh but resolutely continued the treatment.
Hardin let out a faint chuckle.
‘Still, it’s not a bad sign that the Emperor is reacting this way.’
Under the Emperor’s direct orders, some of them were receiving luxurious care from the capital’s finest healers.
That alone was an undeniably positive signal for their house.
Honestly, he felt a bit guilty toward the knights who had only sustained minor injuries and returned to Daphne.
‘Well, if they’re salty, they should’ve gotten hurt too.’
The food was great, the nearby gardens well-maintained, and the air fresh.
Life at the treatment center wasn’t just satisfying—it was borderline extravagant.
If there was a minor downside…
“Excuse me, Healer?”
“What now.”
“If I can’t be discharged yet, could I at least go out for a bit?”
“Go out… for what, exactly?”
“Well, I’m bored out of my mind and itching to move—thought I might go have a drink or two.”
Crack!
A vein popped on the healer’s forehead.
“Absolutely… not. Not without our permission.”
KWAANG!
With a response that was more of a threat than anything else, the healer turned on their heel and stormed out.
“Man, some people are just too uptight.”
“Seriously. What’s wrong with having a drink or two?”
Hardin and a few others grumbled under their breath.
The kind of faces that said they were already going stir-crazy.
“Ugh, what are we supposed to do to pass the time?”
“How about a game of chess?”
“Ugh. I hate using my brain.”
Hardin flatly rejected Manton’s suggestion without a second thought.
“Man, if only we had a decent knight novel or something…”
Thunk!
Hardin flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Knock knock knock!
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
There was no doubt—it had to be that nagging healer again.
“Ugh, what now?”
“It’s Lucilis, Young Master Hardin.”
“Hmm?”
Everyone's eyes widened as Hardin sat up from his bed.
A moment later—
Creaaaak!
The door opened, and Lucilis walked in.
“What brings you here?”
“Well… I thought I’d stop by and check on you. After all, it’s because of us that you all got hurt like this.”
Swish.
Lucilis raised a basket in one hand, filled with fruits and snacks like jerky, as he spoke.
“Ooh! Come in, come in.”
“Much appreciated!”
Everyone quickly swarmed the basket, each grabbing something they liked.
As Hardin munched on an apple, an oddly dissatisfied look crept across his face.
“What’s wrong, Young Master Hardin? Is the fruit… not to your taste?”
“No, it’s too good. That’s the problem.”
“Sorry? What do you mean by that?”
“It’s a shame we can’t have a drink with such perfect snacks. Don’t you all agree?”
“…Agreed.”
“Man, a cold beer with this would be chef’s kiss.”
Everyone nodded in shared lament.
Ahem! Ahem.
Lucilis glanced around discreetly, then reached into his coat…
“This… you have to promise not to tell anyone I brought it.”
He held out a bottle of alcohol.
“Oooooh! Of course! Our lips are sealed!”
“Daaamn, our Vice-Captain really knows how to read the room!”
Beaming like sunflowers, everyone in the room lit up with joy.