༺ Eyes of a Dragon and the Human Heart (5) ༻

The explosion intertwined with a shockwave, making a deafening roar.

Immediately after, a piercing scream filled the air. It was the shout of pedestrians on the street.

The air expelled by the explosion swirled, causing ripples. Clothes and strands of hair flapped wildly.

The force was extraordinary, especially when considering it resulted just from a single woman being forcefully slammed into the ground.

Only after the ringing in the ears subsided did the dust gradually settle, revealing a slightly clearer view of the centre of the explosion.

There was only one figure standing there, and from the misty haze emerged a pair of indifferent golden eyes.

Ian Percus, with his usual indifferent expression.

Perhaps ‘bored’ would be a more apt description. He acted as if what had just occurred was merely a matter of course.

He scanned the surroundings with weary eyes.

Many people just stood there frozen in shock.

Cien, the Imperial Guards, and even the passersby stared in disbelief, their eyes shifting between Ian and Irene, who lay sprawled behind him.

The stone-paved road was riddled with cracks, and at its centre, Irene writhed in agony, letting out groans. Even the slight movement seemed to be her limit, likely due to the severe blow she had suffered.

It was a single blow.

One of the elite Imperial Guards, responsible for protecting the noble bloodline, was now lying powerlessly. Although three others remained, it was undeniable that Irene was their strongest member.

A delayed sense of terror crept into the eyes of the remaining guards.

This surpassed the capabilities of a third-year academy student. While the quantity of his magic was uncertain, the quality and control he showed were of a different level entirely.

Could he possibly be… a hidden master?

Of course, such a thought was absurd. Masters were beings that transcended humanity and the depth of the mana they wielded was immense.

Compared to that, the power exhibited by the man was almost trivial.

But the very fact that they even entertained such an outrageous idea demonstrated the vast gap that existed between the man and them.

He was incomprehensible. Even the manner in which he subdued Irene remained unclear.

The Imperial Guards unwittingly took a step back. With just a single exchange, Ian’s threat level had skyrocketed immeasurably.

Fear was a natural response.

Seeing this, the man suppressed mocking laughter. He seemed to find them ridiculous.

Suddenly, his golden eyes blazed with intensity.

“What a pathetic display for Imperial Guards… Come at me all at once. I’ll deal with you using only my sword.”

Then, with a crisp sound, a sword was unsheathed.

Despite Ian’s provocation, the Imperial Guards hesitated for a moment. Their gaze then shifted to Cien, the Lady they were sworn to protect.

Cien stood there drenched, eyes wide with shock as she stared at Ian.

Her appearance was too miserable to call her a princess.

Eventually, the Imperial Guards appeared resolute. Exchanging glances and nodding at each other, they lunged forward in unison.

With a resounding thud, they closed the distance.

Three swords descended upon Ian simultaneously.

While it might seem cowardly, their strongest, Irene, had already been defeated. It was clear this wasn’t an opponent they could face with mere pride.

The strength of a Knight Order wasn’t solely reliant on individual skill. Although individual capability was undeniably crucial, the true terror of a Knight Order materialised in their combined assaults.

Even without wielding their swords offensively, each knight was formidable enough to be deemed a human weapon. After all, they were individuals who had dedicated their lives to the way of the sword, transcending the limits of the human body.

Now, there were three such knights. Trained to collaborate, their combined effectiveness wouldn’t simply increase; it would multiply.

And this moment was no exception.

While it seemed as though their swords struck simultaneously, each knight’s sword displayed subtle variations in timing and trajectory.

The initial sword swiped horizontally.

The second descended vertically.

And the last aimed for the gaps between the trajectories of the first two. The slicing sound through the air was fierce, as if targeting a vital point.

Even if one dodged the first and second strikes, the final blow was designed to be unavoidable. It required precise calculation, yet they relied on their repetitive training experiences to execute it.

And all the while, Ian remained silent, merely observing their onslaught.

As the three swords reflected in his golden eyes gradually approached…

An unexpected kick collided with the horizontally moving first sword.

The clash’s echo resonated as if time had slowed.

The sound didn’t seem like that of flesh meeting metal. The outcome was just as surprising.

Unable to withstand the shock, it was the sword that faltered.

With the trajectory abruptly disrupted, the stance of the knight initiating the first attack became unsteady.

Consequently, the second sword that followed naturally deviated. Exploiting this gap was Ian’s sword, swift as a ray of light.

With a ‘puk’, Ian’s sword lodged into the shoulder of the second knight. Unable to endure the pain, the knight’s mouth opened wide, his face distorted as if to scream.

But no sound emerged. Because the exchanges between experts were even swifter than that.

In a single step, Ian closed the distance.

A sharp crack echoed. It was the sound of Ian retracting his thrusting sword at an angle, shattering the arm joints of the third knight charging in.

It was a peculiar sight. What seemed like a clear opening was suddenly missed as the third knight’s sword merely brushed past Ian.

It was as if space itself had twisted.

In just two strides, Ian pressed further into the midst of the knights.

Then, as if waiting for that very moment, a downward slash was directed at Ian.

It was the knight who had received the initial kick. Even in his staggered state, he put his all into swinging his blade.

But Ian was faster.

With only two steps, he was already close to the knight. His sword was even quicker.

A silvery streak appeared on the knight’s arm, which soon began to turn crimson.

The gushing sound of blood marked the end of the battle. Time resumed its normal pace.

One, two, three. As if perfectly synchronised, the three knights collapsed together. Their consecutive fall was similar to dominoes being knocked over.

By then, Ian had already moved past the trio. His sword returned to its sheath.

“Arghhhhh!”

“Guhh… Aghhh!”

The knight, his arm severed, and the one with a pierced shoulder couldn’t possibly continue the fight. However, the one with a shattered elbow joint gritted his teeth and pushed himself upright.

And just as he prepared to swing his sword with his remaining hand—

He was abruptly yanked forward. The reason was unclear. All he saw was Ian’s arm gripping his shoulder.

The subsequent events were predictable. After all, it was a scene they had witnessed before.

Dread filled the knight’s eyes.

With a thud, a cloud of dust erupted from the ground.

Ian, as if finding it a hassle, briskly shook his arm, dispersing the dust. The time it took him to deal with the remaining knights was no more than a few seconds.

Those without trained eyes couldn’t perceive the swift exchange of blows. What the bystanders witnessed was merely the aftermath.

“Arghh, my-my arm!”

“Gah, urgh, ah…”

One knight howled with a severed arm, bleeding profusely. Another clutched his pierced shoulder, and the last lay unconscious on the ground with his face buried in the dirt.

All caused by a single man. A chill ran down the spines of the onlookers.

The man who had effortlessly defeated the elite Imperial Guards moved forward unhesitatingly. Ignoring the fading screams of the knights, he stopped at a certain spot.

He stood before Cien, from whom drops of water still trickled down. Her expression had turned noticeably cold.

A stark contrast to her gentle first impression.

Her expression was cold and gloomy. Though still beautiful, there was something about the sneer on her lips that sent shivers down one’s spine.

Facing that dagger-like smile, Ian simply spoke in a flat tone.

“The standard of the Imperial Guards is pitiable. They require mental training.”

At his words, which could be perceived as either mockery or advice, Cien stifled a laugh. Her behaviour was chillingly aloof.

The atmosphere was so cold, it seemed like the droplets falling from the tips of her dark blue hair might freeze in mid-air.

“…I underestimated you. It is my blunder, Sir Ian.”

The princess no longer addressed him as a ‘Senior.’ It seemed she wanted to deliberately emphasise the identity of the speaker.

Normally, a typical low-ranking noble would be trembling in fear by now. Even if she was far removed from the line of succession, she was still a member of the Imperial Family.

If she wished, she could obliterate a countryside Viscount without a trace. That is, if she had the will and time to do so.

Cien’s voice was cold, almost indifferent. It was devoid of any emotion and carried a flat tone.

Ian’s demeanour wasn’t much different. Thus, their conversation felt as if two wax dolls were exchanging words.

“…Can you handle it?”

“Handle what?”

“The wrath of the Imperial Family.”

Their voices lacked any pitch, making the atmosphere all the more chilling.

Cien’s light grey eyes remained fixed on Ian. Droplets of water still dripped from her dark blue hair.

“Do you know when a person becomes the most terrifying? When they hold a grudge and begin to torment their enemy; that’s when one truly sees a person’s depths… I’ve seen it countless times, and I know well what humans most desire and fear.”

Ian gazed intently at the princess. His tightly sealed lips showed no sign of parting.

Even when threatened by a member of the Imperial Family, he remained utterly calm. Perhaps this irked her, for Cien’s threats intensified.

“I’ll ruin everything you love, your family and those around you. That’s my specialty, after all.”

“…How long will you need?”

It was an unexpected counter-question.

A slight furrow appeared between Cien’s brows, her expression seemed to ask, ‘What are you talking about?’. Yet, Ian merely continued in his flat tone.

“I mean time. How long will it take you to destroy everything of mine?”

“…Three months.”

Her voice was laden with cold resolve. A wounded pride could make a creature that fearsome.

The confidence that, in just three months, she could obliterate a man’s entire world.

Even those not involved would find the threat chilling. However, Ian seemed unfazed, silently gazing at the princess.

“Three months is more than enough. But fortunately for you, you still have a chance.”

Taking a step, the princess moved closer to him.

Still, Ian showed no reaction. He intently observed the woman’s pupils tinted with a hue of grey.

Taking another step, she was now very close. From a distance close enough to be heard with difficulty, the princess whispered to the man.

“Here and now, kneel down and kiss my feet. That’s how you’ll become my loyal dog… Barking if I command you to bark. Dying if I order you to die.”

“If I do?”

“You can have anything you desire. Money? Power? Women? Choose whatever you want. The Imperial Family has the power to grant it all.”

At that, a stifled chuckle escaped the man’s lips. Immediately, he posed another question.

“And if I don’t?”

“…Haven’t I already made that clear?”

A cold smirk formed on the princess’s lips once again. She whispered.

“I won’t stop, no matter how much you plead or cry. From your family to your dearest friends, I’ll make everyone suffer… Did a lowly noble like you really think you could defy the Imperial Family and remain unscathed?”

Her tone had lost all traces of politeness. The threat was palpable, filled with blatant hostility and hatred. The man closed his eyes, seemingly amused.

“Three months, you say…”

Ian gave a slight nod, signalling his understanding.

As if indicating it was time to make a decision, the princess took a step back.

In that brief moment when distance was created between the Imperial Princess and Ian…

Ian’s hand reached to his waist. It was a movement too swift to react even with eyes wide open. In a blink of an eye, a hatchet was drawn.

Glistening, it sliced through the air, tracing a trajectory.

The princess’s eyes widened in shock, and then…

“Ah, aaaaargh!”

A woman’s scream, coupled with the spatter of blood, echoed through the air.

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