The Lord Of Blood Hill

Before long, Henwell arrives at a battlefield where several people are fighting.

On one side is Garcia, an Iron Knight of the church. With him are Diara, captain of the empire's hunting knights, Henwell's deputy captain McComb, and the one-eyed Paladin Pakrik.

There are also several elite Battle Knights. In a corner nearby lies Leician, the Marquess of Nothing's guard, unconscious and badly wounded.

On the other side are two Iron Ranks from the Veil and a group of elite Veil warriors.

Although the Veil has one more Iron Rank on their side, they are slightly at a disadvantage.

With Diara and Pakrik, both peak Grand Knights, working together to restrain the enemy, Garcia can hold off the Veil's two Iron Ranks.

Now, the Veil ranger is wounded. Blood keeps seeping from his abdomen and back.

The sword-and-shield fighter is in better condition. He has only suffered some superficial injuries.

Even so, the larger situation is not good for the Veil.

On McComb's side, he has already suppressed the Veil's Grand Knights. Although the other side also has two Grand Knights and holds the advantage in numbers, both of them are in poor shape.

One has blood between his arm and right chest. Judging from the wound, Leician must have caused it.

The other has a serious leg injury, and that one was left by Henwell earlier.

These Veil members are all struggling bitterly. They do not even have a chance to break away.

The elites of the church and the empire have a very clear goal: keep these people pinned down.

The castle's protective spell formation is not far from ending. Once it opens, a large number of Western Federation elites will rush straight in and take down the Veil's remnants.

Because of that, both the two Iron Ranks and the lower-level Veil elites are growing anxious.

They do not know what has gone wrong with the plan, but they know they must leave the battlefield. Otherwise, they are certainly finished.

Yet in a clash between professionals, the more anxious one becomes, the easier it is to reveal a flaw.

Gradually, both of the Veil's battle circles begin to fall into disadvantage. This is clearly the worst possible result.

Knowing this cannot continue, the ranger says, "Steel Shield, split up and run! Otherwise we'll both die here!"

Steel Shield flies into a rage. "Bullshit! I'm not as fast as you. I'll definitely be the one they catch. Flying Feather, you really know how to scheme!"

Flying Feather says anxiously, "If this goes on, neither of us is getting away. Buy me time. I'll withdraw first."

"Then I'll set up a trap. You know how to avoid it and use it to shake off the pursuers."

"You know this is already the best plan. Otherwise we both stay here!"

Steel Shield curses under his breath. "Damn it! Get ready. I'll suppress their speed!"

Flying Feather immediately gathers his Fighting Spirit and prepares to break through.

Steel Shield slams the heavy shield in his left hand into the ground, triggering a violent tremor.

Everyone inside the battle circle staggers, including his own completely unprepared teammate.

Next, Steel Shield suddenly uses an unexpected skill. His speed surges, and he charges straight toward McComb's side.

After casually killing two Western Regions Battle Knights, he also smashes McComb away with a shield strike when McComb tries to stop him.

As McComb coughs blood and flies back, Steel Shield rushes straight into the corridor and vanishes from everyone's sight.

A moment later, after the others recover from the brief loss of control, they do not rashly chase Steel Shield. Under Garcia's command, they immediately surround Flying Feather instead.

Facing this situation, Flying Feather does not curse Steel Shield. After all, he himself had planned to leave Steel Shield behind to cover his retreat.

He simply had not expected Steel Shield to hide his hand so deeply. He can only admit he miscalculated and brought this on himself.

Henwell, who has been watching from the shadows, smiles. This Steel Shield is not the profession he guessed, but a rare Steelshield Cavalier.

It is an uncommon profession, a blend of warrior and knight. It has a little of both sides' abilities, but is not truly proficient in either.

When one first steps into the extraordinary, it has fairly good adaptability. But the higher one goes, the weaker it becomes.

This profession mainly has strong survivability. To put it bluntly, it is built less for fighting than for staying alive.

It is usually practiced by lone wanderers, or by leaders of small forces.

After glancing at the battle that has basically stabilized, Henwell quietly heads in the direction Steel Shield fled.

Not long afterward, Henwell arrives at one of the palace kitchens.

Many kitchen workers are hiding here. The fighting has not spread to this place.

When they see Henwell walk in with a longsword, everyone instinctively shrinks back.

After all, Henwell's Nightwind Armor clearly does not look like equipment belonging to the castle's royal guards.

Henwell sweeps his gaze around the room, then walks toward one person.

When Henwell comes to his side, the simple-looking burly man dressed as a cook forces a smile. "My lord, no matter what you're looking for, this is the kitchen. There won't be anything you want here."

Henwell ignores him and lowers his head to look at the chopping boards stacked upright nearby.

Those thick boards have all been washed clean. Only the one in the farthest corner is covered in dust.

Henwell reaches out, lifts that large chopping board, and drops it onto the stone floor. It gives off a dull thud.

That is not the sound of wood striking stone. Mixed into it is a special metallic ring.

Henwell pats the chopping board and looks toward a kitchen hand in the corner. "Friend, you really looked down on me."

"You should have attacked the moment I came in, instead of waiting until I got hold of your preferred weapon before showing regret."

Knowing he has been exposed, Steel Shield slowly stands. The disguise over his body gradually fades.

His plain kitchen worker's clothes become bloodstained armor.

The change draws cries of alarm from the people in the kitchen. Steel Shield wastes no words. He pulls a greatsword hidden inside the stove and charges at Henwell with a Whirlwind Slash.

Henwell raises the heavy shield disguised as a chopping board and easily blocks the strike.

The kitchen is not so lucky. It becomes a wreck as if a storm has swept through it.

Even more unfortunate are the workers inside the kitchen. Almost all of them end up dead or wounded.

Henwell holds the heavy shield in his left hand and swings the Dusk Greatsword in his right, crashing toward Steel Shield.

A while later, inside the ruined kitchen, Steel Shield lies slumped in a corner. His greatsword is stuck in the ceiling, and his chest is covered in blood.

Steel Shield coughs up a mouthful of blood. "You're Iron Rank! You killed Blacksmith!"

"What are you waiting for? Why haven't you killed me?"

Henwell says, "Your death needs to be worth a little more."

Steel Shield sneers. "You definitely aren't handing me over to the church. Otherwise, you wouldn't be hiding your identity."

"You're just like me. You're a bad man, only more hypocritical."

"You clearly could have subdued me earlier, but you deliberately fought me for so long."

"You wanted to borrow my hand to kill the witnesses here so you could keep hiding your strength."

"Look at that. How hypocritical. Nobility is only a layer of skin wrapped around your filthy heart."

Henwell does not refute him. "Yes. But not entirely. I told you, your death needs to mean a little more."