Chapter 204
“How violent. Is it really so terrible to have a little conversation?”
“Return the Empress now, and I might consider talking.”
“Tch, must you make answering so difficult?”
“Final warning. If you do not return her—”
Creeeak—!
A sickening screech rang out as Kazhan’s blade pressed harder against the barrier. The veins on his exposed hands bulged unnaturally, his crimson eyes flickering with an eerie light.
Crack. Crack.
“…!”
The shield, unyielding against even his fiercest strikes, began to fracture. Trienne’s lips curled in mock admiration.
“Ah, so you do have a trick or two.”
Despite the dire situation, his voice held no fear—only amusement. He watched, fascinated, as the Emperor pushed the barrier to its limits, grinning only when it neared total collapse.
“Well, no matter. Since you’ve made it this far, I suppose the how doesn’t really matter.”
It was common knowledge that mages were at a disadvantage in one-on-one combat against knights. Unlike swordsmen, who could strike instantly, magic required preparation.
But there were exceptions.
Two, to be precise.
The first, when the mage’s skill far surpassed the knight’s.
And the second—
“Tennilath himself, visiting my sanctuary? What a delightful surprise!”
“—!”
Swish!
Kazhan barely twisted away in time. Had he been slower, what fluttered to the ground wouldn’t have been a few strands of black hair—but his severed head.
“Where did you pick up these cheap tricks?”
“Hah! ‘Cheap’? Let’s see you say that after I’ve properly humbled you!”
With a flick of his wrist, Trienne unleashed a storm of spells—no incantations, no delay. Fire arrows, concussive bursts, torrents of water, blades of wind—all erupted from the walls, ceiling, even the floor, shredding the space Kazhan had occupied moments ago.
A mage’s sanctuary—a dungeon, in crude terms. Traps embedded in the very structure, reacting to the owner’s will. To charge in blindly was suicide.
The second way a mage could overpower a knight.
Kazhan hadn’t known. This was the heart of Trienne’s domain. Even stripped of his dark magic, the man remained formidable.
Slick!
“Tch.”
Annoying.
Kazhan clicked his tongue at the thin line of blood trailing from his cheek. He’d wondered why things had gone so smoothly—only to be tripped up at the last moment.
His gaze swept the room, cold and calculating. Every surface pulsed faintly, spells lying in wait. Dodging wasn’t the issue—he’d taken only minor wounds so far. If he pushed through, he could reach Trienne.
Unfavorable terrain or not, he was no ordinary knight.
“Hah.”
Exhaling sharply, Kazhan lowered his stance. Until now, he’d focused on defense, gauging his opponent’s patterns. But the path to killing him was clear.
First—evade the fire arrow from the left, then close the distance—
Whoosh!
“…?!”
Mid-dodge, Kazhan’s eyes snapped wide. A small figure, previously unnoticed, lay sprawled near Trienne’s feet.
Mikael Tennilath.
The fire arrow he’d dodged was now streaking toward his son.
Too late to intercept. Too late to cut it down—the flames would reach Mikael regardless.
Only one choice remained.
So Kazhan moved.
His body, already coiled to lunge forward, twisted violently—
And he took the hit himself.
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