Chapter 305

Volume 2 Ch 45: Fight! Fight! Fight!

Ryan 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󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄂stood at the center of the barrier, roughly ten steps away from Asa. He raised a hand and seemed to casually adjust the cuff of his formalwear, though it was not at all disheveled. His calm gaze met the Knight’s black eyes, which appeared gentle and humble on the surface, yet hid a trace of scrutiny and indifference deep within.

The ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂night wind swept across the lawn, carrying a chill. Inside and outside the barrier, everyone held their breath.

An ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂unexpected performance, yet one many had either anticipated or calculated toward, was about to begin.

“Since ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂this is merely for entertainment, stop at the proper point and do not harm the harmony between you.” Emperor Augustus III sat in the main seat of the temporary viewing area, his gaze sweeping over the two men in the field. “Lord Velt, Knight Asa, you are both pillars of the Empire. Exchange your skills and display your valor. That will suffice.”

Ryan ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂and Asa bowed toward the Emperor at the same time and said in unison, “We obey Your Majesty’s command.”

Second ‍​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍󠄂󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄁󠄀󠄁󠄀󠄀󠄀󠄁󠄂Prince Keynes gestured for an attendant to bring the White Raven sword before Ryan.

Ryan accepted it. It felt slightly heavy in his hand, and the sheath was warm and smooth. He drew the sword half a foot from its sheath. The silver-white blade reflected the moonlight and the glow of the barrier, flowing with a clear, cold gleam. The blood-red gemstone at the end of the hilt looked dark and congealed in the night.

He casually swung it twice, and the sound of it cutting through the air was light and sharp. It was indeed a good sword. Unlike the Frost Dragon Pattern that Cecilia had given him, White Raven leaned more toward universal Mana conduction and sharpness across multiple types of Mana. It was suited to someone who practiced Dual Cultivation of Magic and Martial Skill and needed to switch flexibly between combat styles.

Ryan made a flourish with the blade, returned the sword to its sheath, and nodded slightly in Keynes’s direction. “Thank you for the sword, Your Highness.”

The smile on Keynes’s face did not change, but a cold light flickered deep in his eyes.

At the center of the field, Ryan and Asa stood more than ten steps apart.

Asa had already removed his ceremonial coat, revealing the light Knight armor underneath, interwoven with silver-white and gold patterns. On his chest was the Holy Church emblem of dawn and a sword. His right hand rested lightly against the hilt of the simply designed Knight’s longsword at his waist, which faintly radiated waves of light. His posture was relaxed.

“Lord Velt, please do not hold back. Strike with your full strength.” Asa’s voice was clear. “I am a few years older than you, and I have undergone some tempering in the Church. Today’s sparring match is meant for exchange. Even if you are slightly inferior, it will by no means be shameful. Instead, it may broaden your experience.”

His words sounded modest and proper, but there was a hidden edge within them. From the very start, he placed himself above Ryan, presupposing the outcome that Ryan would be slightly inferior, while also implying that Ryan might be afraid to fight.

Quite a few nobles at the edge of the field nodded inwardly, thinking that this Holy Church Knight truly possessed an extraordinary bearing. Only a few who were genuinely sharp, or who knew more of the truth, could hear the arrogance and provocation beneath that gentle tone.

Ryan merely smiled faintly and did not respond. He held the sheathed White Raven in his hand, his body slightly relaxed, his gaze calmly locked on Asa. His stance did not look like that of someone facing an enemy. Rather, he seemed to be standing there casually, even raising his brow lightly at Asa.

A trace of displeasure flashed through Asa’s eyes, but his smile did not change.

“In that case, I shall begin.”

Before his voice had fully fallen, the thumb of his right hand, which was pressed against the hilt, suddenly flicked.

CLANG!

A clear sword cry tore through the silence of the courtyard. A scorching white arc of light, condensed like moonlight and swift as startled lightning, had already left the sheath.

The instant it was drawn, it carved an exquisite and deadly curve, rising from the lower left toward Ryan’s right ribs. Its trajectory was tricky, and the air at the edge of the light blade distorted faintly from the high heat.

“Holy Light Slash: Dawn Arc!” an old noble who had once fought alongside Church Knights on the border exclaimed from the edge of the field.

This was not a simple application of the light element. It was one of the Magic–Martial combat techniques from the Holy Church’s Holy Arts system, refined into a complete system for elite Church Guardian Knights such as those of the Dawnblade Knights.

The Holy Arts system was broad and profound, encompassing the three elemental domains of light, water, and natural life. The Holy Light Slash series was a model example of perfectly fusing the purifying, burning, and swift traits of the light element with close-combat swordsmanship.

Every move had its own name, opening form, operational trajectory, and method of Mana resonance. It was a killing art tempered through countless trials. Like Eleanor’s inherited swordsmanship, it symbolized depth and tradition.

Those who could recognize this move at a glance were either extremely knowledgeable or had personally experienced its power.

The scorching arc of light almost brushed past Ryan’s formalwear, instantly leaving a scorch mark on the expensive fabric. But Ryan’s reaction was even faster, or rather, his prediction came even earlier.

The moment Asa exerted force with his thumb, Ryan had already completed a subtle adjustment of his body. At the same time, the sheathed White Raven in his hand swept diagonally upward from below, meeting not the scorching arc of light, but the truly silent and chilling sword tip stabbing toward his lower abdomen behind it.

CLANG!

A collision far duller than the clash of metal exploded, mixed with the faint hum of light-element energy striking the Mana-conductive material of the sheath. Asa felt that what came through the tip of his sword was not a simple blocking force. That power was solid and cunning, landing precisely at the transition point where the arc of light had not yet fully ended and the force of his direct thrust had not yet fully begun, causing his smooth follow-up variation to stiffen for a fraction of an instant.

At last, the astonishment in his eyes could no longer be hidden.

This boy had seen through the essence of Dawn Arc?

Holy Light Slash: Dawn Arc was a move from the Radiant Guard branch of the Holy Arts combat technique system, widely favored by many low- and mid-tier Knights.

It was not an ultimate technique capable of destroying heaven and earth, yet because of its high practicality and classic use of false and true strikes, countless Church Guardian Knights mastered it with great proficiency. It could be called one of the signature opening moves of the Dawnblade Knights.

Its essence lay precisely in the word dawn. At the beginning came a swift, scorching, arc-shaped Holy Light slash. Its trajectory was tricky, specializing in oblique attacks, often cutting in from a visual blind spot or a weak point in the enemy’s defense, forcing the opponent to split their attention to deal with that first conspicuous arc of light.

However, although the arc of light possessed killing power, its more important role was feinting and disrupting perception. The Mana structure contained within it was not stable, and it could be easily shattered or dodged.

The true killing move was the lethal straight thrust following closely behind the arc of light, concealed beneath the radiance of dawn and condensed with most of the user’s strength and speed.

The light arc dazzled the eye; the straight thrust took the life. Countless opponents had fallen to this deceitful shift between false and true.

Asa had intended to use this move to give this arrogant little brat a clean and decisive warning. He had even harbored the thought of defeating Ryan in a single exchange and showing his face brilliantly before His Majesty and the nobles.

He had expected Ryan either to dodge the arc of light in a sorry state and be driven into a dead end by his following attacks, or to raise his sword to block the arc, exposing an even larger opening and being defeated in one thrust.

Yet he had never imagined that Ryan Velt would not even draw his sword. With only a seemingly casual upward flick of the sheath, he had accurately severed the rhythm of Asa’s transition between false and true.

It seemed this so-called academy hero did not rely entirely on luck, nor was he some simple character who could be casually handled.

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