Chapter 268: Gift from the King (3)
Sron roared in fury as he swung his sword.
He pulled throwing weapons from his chest and hurled them, scattering black magic energy.
But he couldn’t even graze Saned.
It was a strange sword style—the blade of this Saned moved like the head of a snake with a will of its own, following and disturbing the path of his attacks before striking back.
No matter where Sron aimed, he couldn’t break through—it was like facing a wall.
From an assassin’s perspective, if it were a spear-against-spear fight, there would always be a way to complete the objective. They could wait for the instant the opponent attacked to slip past and surprise the target.
But now, he couldn’t even imagine such a scene.
To Sron, Saned was like a massive shield that filled his entire field of vision.
It didn’t seem possible to get to the King of Briol who was beyond him.
Sron stepped back and looked at the other assassins.
Except for one who had died, seven remained. They couldn’t afford not to bring this man down.
He closed his eyes and then opened them again.
His aura changed.
Saned sensed something, stepped back, and raised his sword.
“Hm…”
Sron stopped restraining the black magic boiling inside him and let it overflow through his entire body. The dark energy from his core, once held back, began to spread freely.
His body swelled even more.
Anyone who had felt the power of black magic even once knew there was no way to resist it. This time was no different.
“I’ll hold him off. Go after the king.”
With that, Sron charged at Saned.
He unleashed chaotic strikes, as if his sword were splitting into multiple paths seeking any opening—but Saned blocked them all, one after another.
In just moments, they exchanged dozens of blows.
Meanwhile, the assassins scattered, trying to get past Saned.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Saned turned his body and slammed into one of them. A flash of swordlight cut through the air, his blade piercing the assassin and killing him instantly.
The corpse fell to the ground.
As Saned turned to go after another, Sron lunged at his back.
Blood splattered.
He made a long cut across Saned’s back, but it wasn’t fatal. Saned twisted to avoid the next strike and countered, stabbing a vital spot.
The two rolled on the ground, bleeding.
Sron thought that would keep Saned from moving further.
But the captain immediately got back up and rushed after the remaining assassins. Sron followed with difficulty. In the chase, Saned caught another.
Their swords clashed.
Saned avoided the blow; the assassin did not. His body was split in two.
Even in death, the assassin clung to Saned’s body with twitching hands.
At that moment, Sron attacked.
“Die!”
Saned rolled to the side, using the corpse as a shield. Sron’s sword sliced empty air.
He rolled away, pushed the body aside, and rose to his feet. Sron pressed the attack, but Saned dodged without striking back, focusing on chasing the others.
“Damn insect!”
“That’s you.”
Saned moved quickly. By the time Sron caught up to him, he was already attacking another assassin’s back.
But that one reacted swiftly, turning before the sword could reach him and counterattacking. Their blades met.
In that brief instant, Sron managed to wound Saned in the shoulder. Blood gushed out.
“Tsk!”
Saned kicked him away.
Sron stepped back, then leapt, cutting downward toward Saned’s head while the assassin beside him swung horizontally.
The crossing strike bore down on Saned.
At that moment, the captain stabbed his sword into the ground and released sword energy.
The blade emitted a semi-transparent barrier that collided with both attacks and exploded. The shockwave sent Sron and the assassin flying.
Saned didn’t escape unscathed either.
With his battered body, he drew a breath and stepped toward Sron.
“You’re incredibly persistent.”
“Hahaha…”
“Something funny?”
“Of course.”
Sron kept laughing. Despite the losses, he had managed to keep Saned occupied.
The assassins who had gotten away would surely kill Joshua.
“I’ve won.”
Saned frowned.
“Are you an idiot?”
“What?”
“You think you’ve won just because you’ve stalled me? Or do you think the royal guard just sits around doing nothing?”
“The royal guard isn’t—”
“Isn’t anything? Again?”
Sron’s face hardened. He had never given the Briol royal guard any importance. If he had underestimated the captain himself, then the rest went without saying.
But Saned had turned out far stronger than expected. And there was no guarantee the others weren’t the same.
At that moment, a voice rang out.
“Ah… my whole body aches…”
A guard appeared, covered in blood and dragging the corpse of an assassin.
“Captain, what are you doing here alone?”
“And the others?”
“They’re handling it.”
“Looks like they’re taking it easy now that they have experience.”
“Taking it easy? I always rank among the top in the vote for friendliest guard. Last month, I was even chosen Guard of the Month.”
“I see.”
The newcomer looked at Sron and the assassin, smiling.
“No need for introductions, but if you’re curious… I’m Rosso of the royal guard. You can call me Sir Rosso.”
Rosso saluted by touching his brow and drew his sword.
Sron took a deep breath. Everything had gone wrong.
It was strange—he had power close to the Ten Greats thanks to black magic, and yet he had achieved nothing.
Had there ever been a time when a single country had so many powerful warriors?
The Empire had black magic as a tool, but Briol didn’t even need that.
“This makes no sense…”
“Right?”
One by one, more guards appeared, surrounding him completely.
Sron clenched his teeth. With Saned revealed to be someone nearly on par with the Ten Greats, he needed to act fast. But it was already too late.
He understood his time was up.
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“Of course not.”
“…”
“Cat got your tongue?”
Sron had lost all will to fight. Even with his emotions suppressed, he could think clearly and accept that he stood no chance.
Only one question remained—why hadn’t the Empire foreseen this?
They had someone great behind them.
The master of black magic, the one who had given them a new life—there was nothing he didn’t know, nothing he couldn’t accomplish.
So why had this happened?
“We’ve been through it too,” Saned said, smiling.
“A few years ago, a young prince suddenly came to the royal guard and demanded a duel. He whipped that good-for-nothing Jared into shape and then defeated the crown prince’s champion of the Empire. After that, he became so strong that even I, as captain, couldn’t handle him. That’s when I understood—this makes no sense.”
Hasan came into view, dragged and thrown to the ground by a sharp-eyed man who crossed his arms.
Sron fully accepted that everything had gone wrong.
“So this absurd situation started long ago. If you’re only realizing it now, it’s already too late. Don’t you think?”
***
Cedric was seated deep within the imperial palace, eyes closed.
He was performing the most dangerous ritual since he had uncovered the secrets of black magic.
At first, he had planned to advance slowly, step by step.
But the situation had begun to grow more urgent, and he had no other choice.
His plan was as follows:
Seize control of the Empire, mass-produce an army incapable of feeling fear, and rapidly expand the territory.
In the process, indoctrinate the entire imperial population to complete a system that would channel all national resources toward war.
With that, he would wage a war of conquest across the entire continent, using the blood spilled on the battlefield, the repeated deaths, and the mounting despair as sacrifices to perform a forbidden ritual.
But from the start, something got in the way.
As if he had foreseen it, his younger brother had rallied the rest of the continent’s nations into a single alliance.
They had built a joint defensive line, and the Empire had been unable to cross it.
It wasn’t that they had exhausted all their forces—there were still plenty of troops—but Cedric had never imagined the advance would be so difficult.
The recent annihilation of the forces gathered at the eastern front had been a critical blow.
That was why, when Ivar said he would send assassins to kill Joshua, Cedric thought the situation might finally turn around.
But—
“They failed.”
Cedric opened his eyes.
Ivar was speaking to him.
“I regret to inform you that the assassination attempt failed.”
“Oh, yes?”
Cedric rose from his seat with a calm expression. The torches burning along the stone wall flickered.
“How?”
Even as he asked, Cedric was already imagining what had happened.
If Hasan and Sron, leading the assassins, had failed, then most likely it was because of Bernard and Saned.
But were they really that strong?
Bernard bore the nickname “Sword Demon,” but he wasn’t on the level of the Ten Greats. Saned wasn’t either.
Cedric knew how to assess people.
He could identify their talents, understand their innate nature, and calculate exactly how far they could go.
To him, humans were basically like monkeys. Still, a rare few, combining talent and nature, could reach a useful level of skill.
Bernard and Saned fell into an intermediate category.
Bernard did not have exceptional talent, but his innate obsession with the sword had brought him partial success.
Saned, on the other hand, had great talent, but his weak character kept him from climbing very high.
That was why Cedric had believed that Hasan and Sron, enhanced by black magic, would be more than enough to complete the mission.
Even if they failed, they should have at least dealt a critical blow to Briol.
But they had not.
“The king didn’t suffer a single scratch. The surviving assassins were captured.”
“Was there someone else there? Someone like Yuri or Moyongchan?”
“No. Both are at the front.”
Cedric couldn’t understand it.
His calculations rarely failed.
It wasn’t arrogance—he truly could grasp everything just by looking. Even human limits rested in the palm of his hand.
That was why this outcome was incomprehensible. Without the aid of black magic, how could those two have grown so strong?
Then, suddenly, Cedric understood.
“Ah…”
There was one person who always slipped past his calculations. The only human he held in any esteem.
Yuri Briol.
His younger brother.
“Hahaha…”
Cedric let out a dry laugh.
“This is bad…”
Cracks were beginning to appear in his worldview.
The future he had envisioned did not include Yuri Briol as a decisive factor—or rather, he had considered him only to the extent of acknowledging that he could influence his surroundings a little.
He had underestimated him.
The unpredictability of his beloved younger brother, Cedric had treated as a mere pastime.
“Yuri… you really…”
Now he understood.
He had suspected it before, but now he was certain.
Yuri Briol.
The people whose lives crossed with his began to change from the very core.
Like the flap of a butterfly’s wings becoming a great typhoon, Yuri completely transformed those around him.
And that process had been underway for a long time.
“Yuri, you possessed something far more powerful than black magic…”
Cedric had always thought Yuri was a gift life had given him to entertain his otherwise boring existence.
But now he realized that he was not a gift—he was something far more dangerous.
Cedric turned his head toward the table. There lay a sphere the size of a fist—the seal keeping Fiore asleep.
Gazing at it, Cedric murmured bitterly.
“Father what the hell did you spawn? Wasn’t one monster like me enough?”
____
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