As a single slash from a sharp spear cut through the air—leaving a trail of glowing blue energy upon the ground—two knights instantly collapsed. Their bodies were too weak to withstand the strike; they crumpled to the earth, lying there helpless.
The young man with black and red hair could only shake his head; his expectations had been too high, leading him to pay more attention to those two knights than they deserved.
He straightened his hunched posture. With a look of disappointment, he let out a long sigh and spoke.
"Haaah... I expected too much from you two."
Then, he began to step forward. His gait was casual, yet his aura was that of an assassin ready to finish off a target. As he closed the distance, the knights felt their hair stand on end. Their hearts pounded wildly; they desperately wanted to run, but their legs were frozen stiff, refusing to move at all.
Suddenly, however, something interrupted his focus on the knights. He sensed an object hurtling straight toward him—a projectile slicing through the air with a razor-sharp tip, moving at a speed that defied the tracking capabilities of ordinary Nephilim eyes.
"Whoa...?!"
An arrow formed of magic shot forward, aiming directly for his face—specifically, his right eye.
Reflexively, the young man with black and red hair tilted his head to the left, narrowly dodging the lethal strike aimed right at him. He was grateful that his instincts allowed him to react in the nick of time—an invaluable asset in battles like this.
Wondering who had launched this sudden arrow attack, he looked up; his eyes widened in shock at the sight of the knights who had come for him. The knights of the Knightley Queen marched forward carrying spears, serving as the vanguard. Behind them stood a line of archers with bows and arrows slung across their backs, acting as ranged attackers.
Their numbers were few; from the perspective of the young man with black and red hair, he could count only about ten of them in total—five knights on the right and five archers on the left.
However, what truly surprised him was the presence of a single individual standing apart from the rest.
He was a man with tousled dark hair and blue eyes, yet his face bore a stern expression. He wore a dark, sleeveless garment—though it was largely obscured by a long black coat—paired with matching dark trousers and combat boots.
He also wore partial armor: a lightweight gray iron breastplate that wouldn't hinder his movement, along with plating that covered his entire right arm. His left arm, however, remained unprotected.
He carried a longsword in his right hand, while a dagger—sure to prove useful later—was sheathed on his left side.
He was a captain in one of the Knightley Queen's main divisions. Stepping forward, he spoke firmly, ordering the young man to surrender.
"In the Order of the Storm, you must surrender now and accept punishment for everything you have done!"
Upon hearing this warning, the young man simply laughed in amusement. He found it baffling that the Knightley Queen would dispatch two entire squads just to capture a single person.
"Hah... Hahahaha!"
He took a breath and spoke to the captain.
"And if I don't...? What will you do then? You brought an entire squad just to catch one man—that's hardly polite, you know?"
Without further pleasantries, the captain issued an ultimatum. Realizing that civil discourse would get them nowhere, he shifted to his backup plan.
Such was the code of the Knightley Queen.
"Only a monster deals in absolute... I will do what i must."
"You will try..." the young man said, bracing himself. He then pushed off the ground, sprinting rapidly toward them—forcing the captain, Verarin, to issue a command.
"Attack him!"
The archers drew their bows and loosed their arrows. Five arrows streaked through the air, hurtling straight toward the man at high speed. However, the man dodged some of the arrows with agile body movements and shattered the rest with his spear.
Yet, it did not end there. They formed a circle, trapping the man within the ring they had created. The knights advanced, thrusting their spears forward.
"Haaaa!" they shouted in unison.
Realizing he was surrounded and that every spear was aimed at his exact location, the young man leveraged his immense physical strength to stomp the ground, launching himself high into the air.
The thrusting spears nearly struck him, but instead, they collided with one another.
The young man quickly descended, but his feet slammed down onto the tips of the spears that had converged at a single point.
The impact caused the spear shafts to vibrate violently. The knights still gripping them lost their footing and were shoved forward simultaneously.
Before they could regain their balance, the young man was already in motion.
"No time to rest!" he declared.
He thrust his sword at one of the knights, then seized the man's body and dragged him along with the full momentum of his movement. The knight had no time to brace himself before he was slammed into another knight.
"Hyaah!"
The two collided violently. Their bodies were sent flying and tumbled across the ground, while the spears that slipped from their grasp scattered about.
The youth then struck the remaining knights with his spear, sending them all reeling and tumbling until they dropped their weapons.
Yet, the archers did not stop. They unleashed another volley of arrows at the youth, forcing him to leap and spin in mid-air before landing steadily; the arrows simply whistled past, striking no one.
Before they could fire again, the youth made the first move.
He spun his spear and slammed it into the ground, triggering a shockwave that rippled outward in all directions. The archers, unable to withstand the force, were thrown back and fell to the ground, their attack thwarted.
Verarin, however, managed to withstand the shockwave. He felt only the gust of wind it generated and blocked the impact with his weapons crossed before him.
As the shockwave dissipated, Verarin drew his sword, fixing his gaze directly on the youth. Their eyes met, and a faint smile appeared on the young man's face.