The reason for my suspicion of the Golden Dragon Knights was simple: they had no reason to be here.
Knights were not adventurers, mercenaries chasing coin by slaying beasts. They were defenders of realms, symbols of imperial power, tasked with protecting borders and maintaining order. The deployment of so many powerful knights to subdue a monster in a remote village made little sense, especially when adventurers were already adept at such tasks. This village fell under the jurisdiction of the Grand Duchy of Silvaria. Any real threat here would have summoned the White Wolf or Silver Wolf knights, elite orders sworn to guard the duchy's interests.
But not these knights. Not the gleaming, gilded figures with their dragon-crested armor. Corruption in knight orders was whispered of in shadowed halls and smoky taverns. A captain and an entire unit turning rogue was rare, but it was not unheard of—particularly among the Golden Dragon Knights. They carried more glory than the Black Lions and White Wolves but also more tales of ambition turned sour, of loyalty bought and sold.
If the worst came to pass, I would have to make a choice.
'If it comes to it, I'll use Sword Resonance and push through to the Indigo Stage,' I resolved silently. It would mean abandoning my pursuit of Spear Unity, the path I had painstakingly carved out. It would twist my progression, disrupt the harmony I sought in mastering both blade and spear. But if it meant survival—mine and Evelyn's—I'd shatter that ambition without a second thought. Even without the spear, I was formidable.
The problem was that I couldn't use Sword Unity's true power since I was just in the Blue stage. I could use Sword Heart but that would be very taxing on my core and I wasn't sure if I could kill them all before falling.
The evening wore on, a quiet suffocation hanging over the village. Shadows stretched long and lean across the earth, painted by the setting sun's crimson glow. The murmur of the waterfall became a steady drumbeat, underscoring the tension that wound through the streets like an unseen serpent. Evelyn and I stayed in the hut, the walls a fragile barrier between us and the uncertainty outside.
The air inside was close, heavy with the scent of dried herbs and the faint metallic tang of my own restlessness. Evelyn moved about with the efficiency of habit, placing jars back onto shelves and folding linens with fingers that trembled just enough for me to notice. The silence between us was a taut string, vibrating with unspoken fears.
She glanced at me, her dark eyes searching mine, and for a moment, it seemed she might speak. But then she turned away, the line of her jaw set as if to ward off whatever comfort I might offer.
"They shouldn't be here," I said finally, breaking the silence. My voice was low, steady, though it echoed the storm that churned inside me.
Evelyn nodded, not turning back to face me. "I know."
Night descended fully, and with it came the soft hum of uncertainty, pressing in from beyond the walls. The stars above seemed brighter than usual, scattered like shards of glass across a velvet sky, as if to mock the uneasy calm below. The village quieted, save for the creaking of doors being shut and the rustle of curtains drawn tight. It was the sort of silence that came before a storm—the moment when the world holds its breath and waits.
I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the artifact at my neck, the illusion still woven around me. It was only a thin veil, a mask that could shatter with the right pressure. My fingers twitched, aching for the familiar grip of my sword, the comfort of certainty it brought. But no. I would wait. I would watch. And if it came to it, I would fight—not for glory, but for the quiet life I had found here, if only for a moment, and for the healer who refused to run.
"I'll go and see what's happening," I said, my voice kept low and steady. I gestured toward Evelyn, who stood with her back straight and eyes shadowed by the dim light of the hut. "Stay here. Don't move if you can help it. I would bring you, but cloaking us both would drain my mana too quickly."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and I caught the flash of defiance in her gaze. It was fleeting but unmistakable, and it made me sigh. That fire in her was why I respected her, even if it often made my life more difficult.
Stepping out into the cool night, I felt the shift in the air, the kind that whispered of secrets and unseen eyes. Mana cloaked my body, a second skin that muted my presence as I moved through the village. The huts, usually warm with the glow of hearths, were dark now, their silence heavy with tension. Only the main house—the Village Head's dwelling, larger and more imposing than the rest—flickered with light and the muted murmur of voices.
I crept close, the rough wooden boards creaking underfoot as I leaned near the window. The scene inside made my blood turn to ice.
There was no honor here, no gleam of chivalry or justice—only the suffocating scent of power wielded for power's sake.
'And they call themselves knights?' The thought seared through me, and I clenched my jaw to keep the roar of fury trapped behind my teeth. The urge to burst in, to cut them down where they stood, was overwhelming, but I forced myself to hold steady.
'Not yet, Lancelot. Not yet,' I told myself, each word like a stone swallowed to stay anchored. I let the cold seep into my bones, freezing the anger into something I could use later, and turned away from the window.
The night air prickled against my skin as I moved, each step calculated, each breath measured. But something felt off, the ambient mana around me shifting like the currents before a storm. It was subtle, a faint tug at the edge of my awareness, but enough to quicken my pulse.
I broke into a run, the village blurring past as I raced back to the hut. My heart thundered as I pushed the door open, breath catching in my throat at the sight before me.
Evelyn was pinned to the bed, struggling beneath the weight of a knight who loomed over her, his armor catching the moonlight that seeped through the gaps in the thatched roof. Her eyes locked with mine for a split second—fear and fury mingled in their dark depths.
Time splintered, the crackle of adrenaline surging through my veins like fire. Without thought, my hand reached for my spear, mana flaring in a bright, blue pulse that shattered the quiet.
The knight turned, eyes widening in surprise, but it was too late. I surged forward, the room shattering into chaos as metal clashed and mana crackled in the confined space.
"Lance!" Evelyn's voice trembled through the din as my spear found its mark, piercing the knight's shoulder with a sickening thud. He staggered, eyes rolling with pain, but I didn't give him a chance to react. With a swift move, I grabbed the collar of his armor, muscles coiled with barely contained fury, and hurled him through the open doorway. The wooden frame splintered, and the thud of his body hitting the earth echoed in the night.
But this was far from over.
I drew a breath, mana thrumming beneath my skin as I layered it over the tip of my spear. The aura flared bright and sharp, humming with lethal intent. With a flick of thought, I compressed wind and fire beneath my feet, the air shifting in a rapid vacuum. The explosion propelled me upward, a blur against the darkened sky, and I descended like a falcon on its prey.
The spearhead found the knight's chest with unerring precision, piercing through his armor and silencing him in an instant. The metallic tang of mana-infused blood clung to the cool night air as I cast aside the lifeless body, letting it tumble into the shadowed grass.
I turned and rushed back into the hut, my pulse still pounding in my ears. "Evelyn, are you all right?" I demanded, scanning her for injuries. Her eyes, wide and dark with shock, met mine as she nodded. Her clothes were disheveled, her breath uneven.
"Y-yes," she stammered, but the tremor in her voice told a different story. The sight made my chest tighten, fury simmering beneath the surface. The sanctity of this place—her place—had been shattered.
Outside, mana signatures prickled the edge of my senses, encroaching fast and full of malice. Reinforcements.
"Stay here, Evelyn," I said, locking eyes with her as I draped a blanket around her shoulders, offering a fragile shield against the rawness of the moment. "Do not come out until the battle is over."
Her face was pale, the strength she usually wore cracked but not gone. She nodded, her body shivering, fingers clutched tightly around the edges of the blanket as if it were armor.
Before leaving, I paused, reached out, and let my hand rest on hers. The brief touch was more than comfort; it was a promise. I channeled a pulse of my mana into her, a protective ward that would buy her time if the worst came to pass. Her eyes widened, recognition flickering in their depths as the energy coursed through her.
"Be safe," she whispered, a plea wrapped in the strength she hadn't yet lost.