Chapter 72: Kill 1

“Since you know this is Muan City, then surely you also know that dark elves make up most of the population here. So if you have no desire to die, get out of our way.”

Kent pulled the stunned Daphne behind him and answered with obvious irritation.

“You little bastard! You’ve got a death wish!”

The knight who had spoken earlier took a closer look at Kent. He was only a human. Had Kent been a dark elf, the knight might have shown some restraint. But a human? That was a different matter entirely.

With an angry roar, the knight tore off his helmet, leapt down from his scale-armored beast, and strode slowly toward Kent with a vicious grin on his face.

“What are you trying to do? The patrol will be here any moment!”

Daphne finally snapped out of her shock. Seeing the cold gleam of the knight’s armor and the hilt of the greatsword protruding over his shoulder, she hurriedly shouted at them.

“Stay out of this, little girl. This is a matter between humans. You dark elves had better keep your noses out of it.”

The knight snarled at Daphne so fiercely that she immediately shrank closer to Kent. Her fingers clutched his arm so tightly that Kent could feel her nails digging painfully into his flesh.

“If you apologize now, I might consider sparing your life,” Kent said calmly to the approaching knight.

He was already in a foul mood, and now someone had conveniently come along to give him an outlet for his anger.

The knight was bald. He rubbed a hand over his bare scalp, glanced around in surprise, then looked back at Kent with a puzzled expression.

“Are you talking to me?”

His face was filled with disbelief.

“No,” Kent replied with a pleasant smile. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

The bald knight sneered.

“Scared now, brat? Too late. I’m taking your life today.”

As he spoke, he turned toward the other knights and struck a triumphant pose, as though he had already won.

“I said I wasn’t talking to you,” Kent replied, seemingly oblivious to the threat. “I was talking to the ground rat.”

Laughter immediately broke out among the surrounding knights.

“Ha! Hahaha! Boy, I’m going to skin you alive!”

The bald knight laughed in sheer fury, glaring viciously at Kent.

In his eyes, Kent was nothing more than a beetle he could crush beneath his boot. Yet the laughter of his companions now sounded unbearably harsh in his ears, each burst of amusement only deepening his humiliation.

Kent himself was not afraid of the bald knight, but Daphne was still standing behind him.

So he slowly took two steps backward, putting some distance between himself and his opponent, then asked in the same calm tone,

“Are you going to apologize or not?”

“Apologize to your damn mother! I’ve lived this long without ever learning how to apologize!”

Kent’s mild, unhurried manner finally drove the bald knight into a rage.

Still cursing, he charged forward.

His fist was nearly the size of a cooking pot, wrapped in a chainmail gauntlet reinforced with iron plates. It tore through the air with a heavy rush of wind as he drove it straight toward Kent’s chest.

Judging by the force of the blow, however, the bald knight did not seem to intend to kill Kent outright with a single punch.

Kent acted as though he had not even seen the fist coming.

“What Heaven brings upon a man may still be forgiven,” he said calmly. “But when a man seeks his own death, there is no one else to blame.”

His voice remained perfectly steady.

“I gave you a chance.”

Then Kent raised one hand.

With a casual sweep of his arm, a string of orange-red fireballs burst into existence and shot toward the charging knight.

Flames flooded the street with brilliant light.

And within that blazing glow, Kent’s face remained as calm as ever.

“Gah-ha! Gah-ha! A mage! Gods above, there’s actually a mage here!”

The bald knight was startled at first, but his surprise quickly turned into a strange, cackling laugh.

In the subterranean realm, mages had long since been removed from ordinary combat forces. They were generally employed only for research or the defense of major cities. Down here, calling someone a mage was almost the same as calling him a novice fighter.

The underground environment was simply too hostile to conventional spellcasters. Twisting passages, cramped terrain, and dim vision all placed severe restrictions on them. Over time, however, this had also made the people of the depths increasingly unfamiliar with just how terrifying a true combat mage could be.

Had this happened on the surface, any experienced warrior who saw Kent unleash a rapid succession of fireballs would have immediately opened the distance between them.

A mage capable of casting spells without chanting was the bane of nearly every profession. Even archers preferred not to confront one head-on.

But the bald knight did the exact opposite.

Instead of retreating, he charged straight ahead, raising both arms to protect his head and face. He clearly intended to rely on his armor and endure Kent’s fireballs directly.

As far as this spell was concerned, he was confident that his armor could withstand it.

“Hahaha! Baldy actually ran into a mage today!”

One of his companions burst out laughing.

“If I’d known, I would’ve gone instead! That brat’s only a Level-One mage!”

The other knights had initially watched Kent with guarded expressions when they saw him cast the fireballs. But once they recognized the spell, their tension vanished.

Laughter broke out all around.

Even the archers shook their heads and lowered their bows.

Against such a low-level mage, a Level-Four swordsman like the bald knight should have been able to withstand the attack even without dodging.

Everyone knew that Fireball dealt most of its damage through intense heat. And the armor worn by the bald knight was no ordinary equipment—it was a fine suit forged by dwarven craftsmen.

Taking a few fireballs head-on should not have posed much of a problem.

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Three explosions sounded in rapid succession.

The bald knight was driven backward three full steps.

His face turned slightly pale.

The main reason was that he had not used his battle aura at all.

That, too, had been deliberate.

He wanted to show off.

If he needed full armor and battle aura merely to deal with an unarmed mage, he knew his companions would laugh at him afterward. Everyone knew that mages were physically weak and rarely quick on their feet.

As far as the bald knight was concerned, he had already endured Kent’s Fireball spell.

He lowered his arms.

“Brat, you’re fi—”

The bald knight knew that mages normally needed a brief interval between spells.

With a roar, he lunged toward Kent at full speed, his face twisting into a savage grin.

This time, his fist was aimed directly at Kent’s head.

After taking the fireballs head-on, he had discovered that the bracer protecting his arm had already been scorched black. The skin beneath it burned with searing pain.

His anger had turned murderous.

But before he could even finish shouting—

his head suddenly separated from his shoulders.

The bald knight’s vicious-looking head struck the ground and rolled away with a wet series of thuds.

His body, however, continued charging forward for several more steps before finally losing all strength and collapsing heavily onto the ground.

Blood erupted from the severed neck, spraying several meters into the air.

Against the distant crimson glow of the volcanoes, the fountain of blood possessed an eerie, almost unnatural beauty.

“You all deserve to die.”

Kent’s voice was cold.

“Kill.”

At the very instant the bald knight was decapitated, Kent shot forward toward the remaining riders.

His hands moved continuously.

One invisible Wind Blade after another tore through the dim air.

In the hazy underground light, the blades of compressed wind were almost impossible to see.

The bald knight’s companions, meanwhile, had been completely stunned the moment his body fell.

Their minds were filled with confusion.

What had just happened?

Who had killed him?

None of them had even seen the attack.

“Argh!”

“Aaaah!”

“Ahhh!”

A succession of screams suddenly shattered the silence.

Only then did the surrounding knights snap out of their shock.

When they looked ahead again, many of the riders in the front ranks were already drenched in blood.

Some had collapsed from their mounts.

Others had lost their heads entirely.

And at last, they understood.

The bald knight really had been killed by the mage standing before them.

The realization instantly erased every trace of mockery from their faces.

Those who had escaped injury erupted with battle aura.

Without hesitation, they urged their mounts forward and charged toward Kent at full speed.

The enormous beasts thundered across the ground, their heavy footsteps echoing through the underground streets.

Rumble—

Rumble—

Rumble—

The knights came rushing at Kent like an unstoppable tide, as though they meant to tear him apart and trample whatever remained beneath the feet of their monstrous mounts.

“Haah...”

Kent let out a quiet sigh.

If not for the knights’ armor, there probably would not have been many of them left standing by now. Even so, in that brief instant alone, more than a dozen knights had been struck down or badly wounded by his Wind Blades, effectively removing them from the fight.

Kent looked at the twenty-odd knights still charging toward him with murderous momentum, and the corner of his mouth curled into a faint, sinister smile.

When it came to magical beasts, there were few people who understood them better than a mage.

Watching the scale-armored beasts thunder toward him, Kent conjured a small fireball in his hand.

He forced himself to calm his emotions and steady his breathing.

His eyes did not linger on the knights riding atop the beasts.

Instead, his attention remained fixed entirely on their mounts.

The instant the first scale-armored beast crossed into the effective range of his magic, Kent suddenly swept his left hand upward.

A fist-sized sphere of light shot into the air.

It was a basic light-element spell—Illumination.

Like a flare bursting in the darkness, the glowing orb instantly flooded the surrounding area with dazzling brilliance.

Within a radius of several dozen meters, the dim underground street became as bright as day.

The knights, whose eyes had long since adapted to the gloom of the subterranean world, were caught completely off guard.

At the very same moment, the fireball in Kent’s other hand streaked straight toward the charging scale-armored beast.

“Argh! Damn it! I can’t see!”

“What’s wrong with this beast? I can’t control it!”

“Which damned mage is doing this? Archers! Where are the archers?!”