In the grand hall of the castle, the sounds of clashing steel and anguished cries still echoed, though the battle was reaching its climax. Bloodstains marked the once-pristine stone floors, and the air was thick with the scent of sweat and iron.
Harry moved forward with relentless determination, his muscles taut and his sword unwavering in his grip. The three opponents before him; Charlie and two other Sean family warriors, were on the verge of collapse. Their breathing was ragged, their defenses faltering under Harry's unrelenting assault.
"Argh!"
A piercing scream tore through the hall. One of the men staggered back, his face twisted in pain as Harry's blade drove through his chest. Crimson blood spurted from the fatal wound, splattering across the floor like a grotesque painting. He stared at Harry, his gaze filled with defiance and regret, but his body betrayed him. His knees buckled, and he fell, lifeless, the hilt of Harry's sword still buried in him.
The two remaining fighters recoiled in horror, but the battle was far from over. The eldest among them, a seasoned veteran with grizzled hair and a weathered face; had borne the brunt of Harry's assault. Though his skill was evident, age and exhaustion dulled his reflexes. With their trio reduced to two, the strain on him became insurmountable. Harry pressed forward like a storm, his strikes unrelenting.
The old man's defenses crumbled. In one swift motion, Harry's blade cleaved through his neck. The severed head flew through the air, spinning grotesquely before landing with a sickening thud, its hollow eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.
"Father!"
Charlie's desperate cry shattered the momentary silence. His voice was raw, filled with anguish and rage, but grief weakened his resolve. Harry turned to him, his eyes cold and unyielding, and with a single powerful stroke, he knocked Charlie's sword from his hands. Charlie staggered backward, but Harry closed the distance in an instant.
Bang!
Harry's boot slammed into Charlie's chest with a force that reverberated through the hall. Charlie collapsed to the ground, the air knocked from his lungs, his body convulsing under the weight of Harry's foot. Though not dead, his will and ability, to fight had been thoroughly crushed.
Harry looked down at Charlie, then at the headless corpse of the old man. A faint frown crossed his face.
"Still not enough," he muttered, shaking his head as if assessing his own performance. This skirmish had confirmed his suspicions. The strength of these knights was comparable to the leaders of smaller gyms he had faced in his world. They were formidable, yes, but nowhere near the level of someone like the Red Bird Dojo Master, whose power he had yet to test himself against. For now, Harry was certain of one thing: no ordinary knight or Dojo Master could match him.
Harry wiped the blood from his blade with a swift motion and turned his gaze to the rest of the hall. Beyond Charlie and the fallen warriors, the Sean family's remaining fighters were locked in combat with Harry's allies. Though spirited, the Sean forces were clearly outmatched. None among them had the strength or skill to tip the scales.
Just then, Jenna stormed into the hall, her own forces following close behind. She was composed, but her expression was a mix of triumph and something more; hesitation, perhaps even unease, as she regarded Harry, who stood amid the carnage like a dark avenger.
"It's done," she said, her voice steady but laced with tension. "The castle is secure. My people have sealed off every exit. No one will escape."
Harry nodded but remained silent, his gaze scanning the room. He had not come here alone, this mission required more than raw strength. While he was the spearhead, Jenna and her forces ensured that no loose ends would jeopardize their objective. The Sean family's wealth, hidden within these stone walls, was vast, and the task of securing it required a coordinated effort.
Harry didn't respond immediately. Instead, he took a step forward, his sword still gleaming with fresh blood. He looked over the remnants of the Sean family's forces, who now lay defeated, their hopes shattered.
"Make sure it's finished," he said finally, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of authority. "No survivors. No escape."
Jenna hesitated, her brow furrowing as she glanced at the wounded and defeated fighters. But she gave a short nod and gestured to her men, who moved to carry out the grim task.
Harry took one last glance at Charlie, who lay broken but alive, his face pale with terror and despair. Without another word, Harry turned and strode deeper into the castle. There was more to claim, more to secure and no time for hesitation. This victory was only the beginning.
Some of the people Jenna had brought with her were seasoned experts in the dark craft of torture. Their methods, while grim, had already yielded most of the crucial information Jenna needed.
Harry stood near the wide-open courtyard, his voice calm but carrying an edge of cold authority. "Except for the essential ones, bury the rest. Over there." He gestured toward a patch of land outside, its earth damp and dark under the overcast sky. "It's a good enough spot. Let's call it their homeland burial. I'm sure," he added with a faint smirk, "if they hear about this in hell, they'll thank me for my kindness."
"Wait, wait!"
The voice was weak and trembling, but it cut through the tension like a plea for mercy. Charlie, battered and still pinned under the weight of his defeat, forced himself to speak. His face was pale, and every word seemed an effort, but his desperation drove him forward.
"Don't hurt my wife and children!" he rasped. "I'll cooperate. I'll tell you everything, but spare them!"
Harry's gaze turned slowly toward him, his expression unreadable but his eyes glinting with interest. "Oh? And why would I do that?" he asked, his tone almost casual, as though weighing the amusement of the offer.
"I'm the heir of the Sean family," Charlie continued, his voice trembling but steadying with resolve. "No one else knows as much as I do about our arrangements here. The others… they won't give you the information you need. But I can."
Harry's lips curled into a faint smile, the kind that sent chills through those who saw it. He nodded, as if humoring the beaten man. "Fine. It depends on your performance, then."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping slightly, though its icy edge remained. "Cooperate fully, and your wife and children will be spared. I'll even give them some money and let them go. They'll live out their lives far from here, untouched. Consider it… the continuation of your family's legacy."
Charlie's jaw tightened, and his eyes flickered with hope: a fragile hope, but hope nonetheless. He nodded, his spirit slowly resigning itself to survival at any cost. "Alright. I'll do it."
Harry gestured toward his men, who quickly moved forward to tend to Charlie's wounds. They worked efficiently, wrapping his injuries just enough to ensure he wouldn't succumb before spilling everything he knew.
A short time later, Charlie's wife and children were brought into the hall, their faces pale with fear and confusion. They huddled close to each other, trembling as they were set aside under guard. Charlie's gaze fell on them, and though it began with hesitation, it gradually hardened into determination. He would cooperate, if only to protect them.
"Follow me," he said hoarsely. With reluctant steps, Charlie led Harry and several others through the castle, his movements slow but guided by purpose.
The passage he led them to was hidden, its entrance cleverly concealed in the stonework. As they descended into its depths, the air grew colder, the walls narrowing into a darkened tunnel.
"So, this is what you were hiding," Harry murmured, glancing at the secret corridor. "Interesting. I didn't expect something like this."
"The Sean family castle was built as a fortress during times of war," Jenna explained, stepping carefully behind him. "It's only natural for there to be hidden chambers and escape routes."
The passage ended in a modest-sized room, its walls lined with faintly glowing lanterns. In the center of the room sat a young girl, her posture limp as though she had been left there for days. Her long hair framed her pale face, and her closed eyes slowly fluttered open as they entered.
"Wendy!" Jenna's voice broke, her usual composure slipping into something raw and emotional. She rushed forward, kneeling before the girl and pulling her into an embrace.
"Sister…" Wendy's voice was soft, her tone frail but unmistakably affectionate. She leaned weakly into Jenna's arms, her lips curling into a faint smile of relief.
Harry, standing off to the side, raised an eyebrow as he observed the scene. His sharp gaze darted between the two women, their similar features finally clicking in his mind. "So that's why," he muttered to himself. "I was wondering why Jenna was so invested in all of this. Turns out it's personal."
Jenna ignored him, her focus entirely on Wendy as she held her close. The reunion was tender but brief, as reality pressed in on them.
Charlie, standing near the entrance of the room, glanced at Harry nervously before speaking. "She… she was taken because of the key."
"The key?" Harry asked, his voice cutting through the room's stillness.
Charlie nodded. "She's the only one who knows where it is."
Harry's gaze flicked back to Jenna and Wendy, his interest piqued. "Then I guess our little mission just became even more important," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips.