Chapter 359: Ramsey in Despair

Ronin dashed out of the castle with Ridal in tow.

“My lord, we cannot match his speed.”

“No matter—he remains within my perception.”

It was well known that magi could amplify the power of spells, and grand magi amplified them further still.

Now, the Wind of Perception Ronin wielded granted him a sensing range of nearly two thousand meters.

After fleeing the castle, the assassin had ceased using Wind Step, yet despite alleys and streets separating them, he never slipped beyond Ronin’s awareness.

“I’m elevating your strength to Meteor Star rank.”

Ronin had brought Ridal along to guard against unforeseen dangers.

He summoned the man’s attribute panel and invested 363 Essence Cores into him.

Ridal shuddered violently; the fresh wounds on his body seemed to ease.

His Qi Sea expanded further, the martial energy within churning and transforming in nature.

Though newly ascended to Meteor Star, Ridal might still not match the assassin in combat—but at least he wouldn’t be crushed by a single blow.

Ronin still had 4,137 Essence Cores remaining.

He couldn’t immediately propel Elron to the rank of Magus, but by the twenty-first of next month, he’d have saved enough.

Then, if Elron’s breakthrough truly resolved Rulans’ problem, Ronin could still surprise the old lord with a gift on his birthday feast the twenty-eighth.

Besides, the city of Anbian was far too dangerous.

Without granting Ridal some protection, should disaster strike, Ronin would never forgive himself.

Whoosh!

A sudden gust of wind slammed down, and a dark shadow landed mere paces before them.

“Master, you called?”

Carlos had been sleeping atop a distant peak when Ronin’s repeated summons jolted him awake.

Knowing his master as he did, Carlos understood: if Ronin sought him this late, it was no trivial matter.

Ronin and Ridal leapt onto the dragon’s back.

High above the night sky, Ronin sensed the assassin’s direction, while Carlos could see him plainly.

The city was no place for battle—it would bring unnecessary casualties and risk exposing the dragon to the world.

So Ronin followed, trailing until he saw the assassin vanish into the woods.

Within his perception, three other strong, vital pulses stirred there.

The assassin was not alone.

In the forest, Angus stared in shock and unease as Ramses staggered back, drenched in blood.

“How did you get hurt?”

He moved to support him, voice laced with speculation: “Did Ronin have a Meteor Knight guarding him? Or perhaps a powerful spell scroll or mana cannon?”

Angus could think of no other possibilities.

Ramses refused his aid—his wounds were not severe enough to render him immobile.

“The assassination failed. That Ronin… he’s a Meteor Knight.”

Angus nodded slowly, murmuring to himself: “It seems Rulans overestimates Ronin—he assigned a Meteor Knight as his guard.”

But the moment the words left his lips, he froze. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“What? Ronin is a Meteor Knight? Are you certain?”

Ramses gasped for breath.

When he’d left Anbian Fortress, he’d felt Ronin trailing behind—but after a stretch of running, the presence vanished. He’d thought himself safely escaped.

“You needn’t doubt it. I was just as stunned.”

He tore off his mask, exhaustion etched across his face as he stared at the gashes on his arm and thigh. “These wounds? All his doing.”

“This is terrifying!”

Angus couldn’t believe it. “If my intelligence is correct, Ronin is only eighteen? A Meteor Knight at that age—is he the reincarnation of Emperor Orland?”

“Don’t joke,” Ramses said, voice tinged with weary mockery. “It might just be true.”

At last, he understood why every prior assassination had failed.

“We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s return at once and inform the Count. See how he intends to handle this.”

They had long sought to annex the Wushan fief—yet never imagined Wushan Fortress had birthed such a monster.

Their next move required careful thought.

Both mounted their griffins at once, soaring into the night, fleeing the woods with swift, silent wings.

The moment Ronin saw the griffins, he knew their identities.

“Heh. Ramses. So it was you.”

The only Meteor Knight near Anbian who came to mind was Ramses of Moonlight Valley.

And with griffins, they had ample time to travel from Moonlight Valley for this strike.

“Carlo, ascend and follow them.”

Ronin commanded. “We strike once we reach the open wilds.”

“Yes, Master!”

Carlos beat his wings, surging skyward with speed far outpacing the griffins—he wouldn’t lose them.

“Master, let me handle those two birds later. Consider it my midnight snack.”

“No.”

Ronin laughed, scolding. “Those griffins must not be killed. Capture them alive—I have use for them.”

Bruno had promised several griffins as wedding gifts, but Ronin never turned away such treasures.

He might not ride them himself—but his knights certainly could.

“Ridal, your mount has been found.”

Ridal smiled.

Which knight didn’t dream of a flying steed?

Dragons were beyond their reach, of course—but griffins, drake-eagles? Those were the stuff of fervent desire.

The flying beasts moved swiftly, soon leaving Anbian far behind. After sweeping over southern villages, they soared above a desolate wasteland.

Ronin traced intricate, complex spell runes—curving lines interwoven with rippling, undulating patterns.

Whoosh!

Wind elements surged behind him, coalescing into a pair of delicate, ethereal wings.

This was precisely the Seventh-Level Magic: Wings of Wind.

Ridar stared at the thin, translucent wings. His lord not only rode a dragon but also wielded flight magic—something he could not help but envy.

“Alright, let’s move!”

Ronin barked in a low voice: “Karllos, dive!”

“Got it!”

Karllos folded his wings, and his massive dragon body plunged downward.

Awooo—

The resounding dragon roar shattered the night sky; every bird and beast in the mountains trembled in terror.

“What is that sound?”

Angus on the griffin’s back felt his scalp crawl, every inch of his skin prickling with gooseflesh.

He had never heard a sound so unnerving.

Ramsay’s heart tightened. He felt an inexplicable unease.

Then, a violent gust howled past—“Above!”

He snapped his head up, pupils contracting violently.

“Ahh!”

“What kind of monster is that!”

As the grotesque dragon head drew nearer, both men’s souls nearly fled their bodies. Beneath them, the griffin shrieked and tumbled downward.

Griffins were said to carry dragon blood.

Before a true dragon, draconic aura crippled their movements.

Ramsay and Angus had ridden their griffins for years—they strained desperately to calm them, barely maintaining flight.

“Surprised?”

Ronin leapt from the dragon’s back, his light wings granting him effortless maneuverability in the air.

The Flameflow Blade thrust forward—before Angus could react, it pierced clean through his chest.

“No!”

He screamed in terror, but Ronin kicked him hard, sending him plummeting from hundreds of meters above.

“It’s you, Ronin!”

Ramsay’s voice cracked with panic and dread.

Everything that had happened tonight had shattered his understanding of reality.

Now, seeing the thin wings on the man’s back—he knew, unmistakably, that only a Grand Mage could wield the Wings of Wind.

Was this young man not only a Meteor Knight… but also a Seventh-Level Grand Mage?

And what was that colossal creature soaring through the sky?

This—this was too horrifying.

“We must flee—now!”

At this moment, Ramsay no longer cared about confronting Ronin or saving Angus. He spurred his griffin, desperate to escape at maximum speed.

“Karllos, handle it.”

Ronin’s flight speed couldn’t match the griffin’s. He didn’t pursue. Instead, he landed on the back of Angus’s griffin, attempting to seize control.

“No! Our speed can’t match that monster!”

Ramsay’s griffin was superior to Angus’s—but still no match for a dragon.

Helpless, he dropped from the clouds, leapt off his mount, and vanished into the forest, hoping to flee on foot.

Ridar immediately leapt from the dragon’s back and gave chase.

As he ran, he slashed out a burst of aura, trying to disrupt Ramsay’s movement.

“Fool!”

Ramsay erupted in fury. Fine, Ronin he could accept—but this golden knight, where did he get the audacity to pursue?

“If Ronin values you, I’ll kill you first to make him suffer!”

Driven mad by a string of failures, Ramsay turned back, shattered the wind aura with a single strike, and charged toward Ridar.

CLANG!

Their swords clashed.

The one-sided slaughter Ramsay had expected never came.

“To kill me, you’ll need to prove you still have the strength left.”

Ridar launched a ferocious assault—his blade moved faster than Ronin’s.

Ramsay parried desperately, his mind screaming: “Someone tell me—what in the world is happening?”

Just moments ago, this golden knight had been sent flying with one blow, defenseless—and now he was overpowering him?

Ramsay felt the world had gone absurd.

Meanwhile, Ronin left the two griffins to Karllos and approached the battlefield, watching Ridar and Ramsay fight.

“Since his ascension to Meteor Knight, Ridar’s swordsmanship has become extraordinary.”

His technique was exquisite—especially his command of rhythm and his precision in seizing minute openings. Ronin still had much to learn from Ridar.

“I’ll give you a little present to liven things up.”

Ronin cast the Wind Tendrils spell.

The wind elements around Ramsay obeyed his call, coalescing into four whistling tendrils that wrapped around his limbs.

“Damn it!”

Ramsay gasped, straining to snap them—but his movements grew sluggish.

In a battle between masters, even the slightest hesitation was fatal.

Ridar seized the opening with perfect precision—he disarmed Ramsay, shattered his aura armor, and drove his blade into the shoulder blade.

Ramsay screamed, the force of the strike hurling him to the ground, blood soaking half his body.

As he struggled to rise, a cold blade pressed against his throat. (End of Chapter)