Siko stopped when he was just a few steps away from Lioran.
The sound of steel sliding from its sheath cut through the silence of the hall. He held the sword in front of Lioran's chest—its tip motionless, yet the threat unmistakable.
"This is your last chance. Leave everything you have here and get out, and don't even look back."
Lioran slowly exhaled. It was clear he didn't enjoy hearing such repetitive words.
"Why do you talk so much? If you're not going to attack, I'll just come for you myself."
Something broke in Siko's expression. His jaw tightened, the veins in his neck bulging.
"Arrogant bastard… I was trying to show you mercy."
The sword rose—instantly, without hesitation.
The blade came down toward Lioran with full force.
"Now I'll at least break a few of your bones… so you learn to say thank you when someone shows you mercy and stop being so arrogant."
As Siko charged, most of the adventurers leaped to their feet. Excitement spread through the hall like wildfire—fierce, reckless shouts overlapping each other.
"That's it, Siko! Teach that bastard some manners!"
"Show him what it means to mess with us!"
"Break his arms and legs!"
But Lioran didn't move.
His gaze was fixed—not on the blade, but on Siko himself.
His mind worked with cold precision as he assessed him.
'He's not using his full power… not trying to kill either. Maybe turning him into my dog would be better.'
The sword was a breath away when his left hand rose.
Not hurried, not dramatic.
His palm met the flat of the blade.
The sound of metal shifted—not a clash, but a deflection.
The force of the strike broke, the sword's path angled upward, and Siko's body lost its balance for a moment. That single moment was enough.
Lioran moved in like lightning.
Siko's eyes widened in shock.
"Wh—? Impossible… how did he deflect my sword—"
His sentence remained unfinished.
Lioran's right hand closed around his throat. Tight. Precise.
Siko's body lifted off the ground; his legs dangled in the air.
The sword fell from his grasp with a dull thud onto the hall floor.
Lioran's cold, unwavering voice cut through the space.
"You wanted to break my bones?"
The hall froze.
The guffaws died in their throats.
The shouts faded.
Several tankards slipped from hands.
A few chairs scraped back in haste.
Everyone rose from their seats, eyes bulging from their sockets.
"How… how is this possible?"
"I didn't even see him move…!"
"He hadn't even drawn his sword…"
The pressure Lioran applied to Siko's throat had cut off his breath. His chest heaved uselessly, but no air reached his lungs. His eyes, filled with raw, helpless terror, were locked onto Lioran's cold, emotionless eyes—eyes that held no anger, no excitement, only judgment.
'A black aura swordsman…?'
The thought stabbed into his mind like a dagger.
'What's a master swordsman like that doing here…?'
Suddenly, Lioran pulled his head back slightly.
And at that very moment—
Siko's face was pulled toward Lioran, and then Lioran slammed his forehead hard into Siko's face.
The sound of the impact echoed through the hall—dry, heavy, bone-crushing.
But Siko couldn't even scream. Lioran's fingers still gripped his throat, strangling every sound at birth.
Lioran pulled his head back.
Siko's nose was broken; tears streamed involuntarily from his eyes, and warm blood dripped from his face, splattering onto Lioran's cheek.
Lioran cast a brief glance at him. Siko's body struggled involuntarily—flailing limbs, but his strength fading by the second. The color had drained from his face. If this continued, he was only thirty seconds away from death.
Lioran's cold voice, merciless and calm, settled in the air.
"What happened? You were going to teach me something."
Siko clawed at Lioran's face with trembling hands—a blind, desperate attempt. A muffled groan escaped his throat as his thoughts spiraled into panic and terror.
'Damn it..! I should have… from the start… used all my strength… No… I shouldn't have engaged him at all… Even if all the adventurers attacked together…'
A deeper dread consumed him.
'I don't think… we could have even scratched him… We… we picked a fight with a monster…'
The adventurers stared at the scene in horror—at Siko, suspended between earth and air in Lioran's grip, slowly losing his life. Cold sweat trickled down their temples, but not one dared to step forward. Their feet seemed nailed to the floor.
The black-haired girl standing beside the Guildmaster, pale and trembling, shifted her gaze between Siko and Lioran.
"Guildmaster… what do we do? If we don't do something, Siko will die."
But the Guildmaster herself seemed the most shocked of all. Her eyes were wide, her gaze fixed on Lioran, filled with fear and disbelief.
'Who… who is this monster? Siko is the strongest member after me… yet he was defeated in a single move—I couldn't even see how he moved. Where did this bastard come from, and what does he want from us?'
Suddenly, as if remembering something, cold sweat streamed down her cheeks.
'He said he was looking for the Guildmaster… What does he want from me? Could it be that… No, impossible. He's a swordsman… so why is he looking for me?'
The hall sank into a heavy, suffocating silence—a silence filled with terror and bewilderment.
Until Lioran's cold voice quietly echoed through the hall.
"Since you didn't intend to kill me, I'll let you live."
He released his grip.
Siko dropped to the ground like a lifeless sack of meat. He placed both hands on his throat and began gasping like a madman—gulping air, coughing, his body trembling.
After a few deep breaths, his shaky, terrified voice emerged.
"Thank you… thank you for sparing my life… I'll never forget your mercy."
Still lying on the ground, gasping for air, he kept thanking him in fear.
At that very moment—Lioran's right foot came down on Siko's back.
"You'd better not forget…"
The sudden pressure slammed Siko hard against the ground. Still gasping for air, he whimpered in terror.
"Wh… what are you doing…?"
Lioran leaned down, grabbed Siko's arms, and yanked them backward with force. Bones groaned under the pressure; Siko's arms twisted like dry branches, and his scream filled the hall.
"Wh… what are you doing…? Please let me go… you said you'd spare my life…"
Lioran stared at his terrified face and whispered calmly.
"I said I'd let you live… but for the way you spoke to me, you need a proper lesson. And you also need to learn not to go after other people's money."
Hearing these words, Siko's body began to tremble. His scream, mixed with raw terror, echoed throughout the guild hall.
"Please let me go… please forgive my mistake… I'll do whatever you say… please forgive my disrespect… I'll never go after anyone's money again…"
Siko kept begging in broken pleas.
And Lioran, slowly… slowly… pulled his arms.
The groans grew louder.
And then—
Crack…!
Siko's arms broke at the shoulders.
"Aaaaaaah…!"
A scream erupted—so loud it shook not only the Adventurers' Guild but the surrounding alleys as well. Passersby stopped at the sound, staring at the guild building, murmuring with fear and anger.
"Those wild adventurers are beating up some poor soul again…"
"Won't someone put those damn people in their place?"
"How long must we endure this…?"
And inside the guild—
The only thing left was Siko's weak, broken groans.
His breaths came with difficulty; each one rattled in his throat with a muffled sound and left his chest trembling. Blood slowly trickled from the corner of his mouth and dripped onto the wooden floor—dark stains gathering one by one.
Several adventurers unconsciously stepped back; one lost his balance and bumped into a table, a tankard toppling with a dull thud and spilling drink across the floor. Another girl, pale-faced, gripped the back of a chair to keep from falling; her legs trembled and her knees wouldn't obey.
Trembling hands rested on weapon hilts. Not to attack—for comfort. As if touching cold steel was the only thing reminding them they were still alive.
Their eyes wandered between Siko's broken arms, the blood on the floor, and Lioran's calm figure. No one dared look directly at his face; their gazes quickly dropping whenever they did.
A girl in a black hooded cloak seemed unable to bear her own weight. She lost her balance and fell to the floor with a dry thud. She brought her hand to her mouth, but her trembling body betrayed her—she vomited onto the hall floor. Her breaths were quick and shallow, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly.
No sound rose.
No scream, no protest, not even a murmur.
Only fear—raw, naked, and heavy—
And the man standing in the center, with no trace of excitement, as if this scene was always meant to end this way.
Lioran released Siko's arms.
The broken limbs fell limp and heavy to the floor with a dull thud—like worthless pieces of flesh.
Siko only let out a cut-off moan and moved no more.
Lioran slowly straightened up. Fresh blood had smeared across his cheek and chin; a drop slid past his lip and dripped to the floor. He turned his face toward the crowd of adventurers.
His eyes—cold, deep, merciless—devoured each one of them.
No one moved.
Breaths were held in chests.
Then his voice rose.
Not a shout. Not a threat.
Calm… and terrifyingly normal:
"Well… now will you tell me where your Guildmaster is?"