Chapter 531: Are You Satisfied

In the Moonshadow Palace, Blanche and Elron were imprisoned within the grand hall, their hands bound and heavy iron shackles weighing down their feet like condemned criminals.

Though these restraints were made of common iron—easily broken by Silver or Gold-ranked knights—they proved sufficient to hold two magicians captive.

And to ensure absolute control, Thrandil had driven two blackened nails into Elron’s legs, disrupting the flow of his magic and rendering him powerless.

Beyond the door and around the chamber, a five-man squad led by two Gold Knights stood guard. Escape was impossible.

The commotion caused by Thrandil’s departure was unmistakable—both captives knew at once that Ronin had arrived.

Blanche, though touched by hope, wore her anxiety and sorrow plainly on her face. The death of her father, King Bruno, had shattered her spirit; she looked pale, fragile, as if barely clinging to strength.

Her hands clasped before her chest in prayer: “Ronin… please, let him be safe…”

“Have no fear, my lady,” Elron comforted gently. “The master’s power runs deep. He will prevail.”

Even as they spoke, a shadow fell from the sky. Ronin descended into the courtyard, his velocity unleashing a violent gust that rippled outward.

“Who goes there?!”

The five guards instinctively shouted, drawing their swords—but froze the moment they saw him.

Ronin’s gaze swept over them like a hawk’s, sharp and merciless. In an instant, wind-formed tendrils lashed out, binding their legs and coiling like serpents around their throats.

They could only stare, wide-eyed, as breath was crushed from their lungs. Not even a cry escaped before they dropped lifeless to the ground.

Inside, the disturbance reached Blanche and Elron. Moments later, the great doors creaked open. Ronin stepped through.

Elron exhaled in quiet relief. With Ronin here, he no longer feared for Blanche—or the child she carried.

Truthfully, since the trap had been sprung, this dread had gnawed at him. If harm had come to them, how could he ever face Ronin again?

At the sight of Ronin, Blanche trembled. She longed to rush into his arms, but the chains held her fast.

“Ronin… you’ve come at last!” she wept.

In a flash, he stood before her. With a single pull, the manacles shattered. He gathered her into his embrace.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s over.”

Only then did she break into sobs. “But… Father is gone.”

He stroked her back gently, voice soft as a winter breeze. “I know. I know. His Majesty will not have died in vain. Leave this to me. But you must be strong—for yourself, for me, and for our child.”

Tears blurred her eyes as she lifted her face to his—steady, warm, unshakable. Slowly, the shadows in her heart began to recede.

“Then… what do we do now?”

She believed it now: so long as he was with her, all would be made right.

Ronin set her down, then moved to Elron, freeing him from his bonds.

“My lord,” Elron said, head bowed, “this fault is mine. I never imagined the Golden Feather Palace would turn so treacherous. I placed the lady in danger.”

“It was not your failing,” Ronin replied. “I, too, did not foresee Garret’s madness—that he would kill his own father.”

He glanced at Blanche, whose sorrow darkened anew at the words, and said no more. “The battle outside still rages. Heal your wounds. I’ll get you both out of this palace.”

“Yes!”

Elron cast a potent healing spell upon himself, then turned to Blanche, mending her weariness with both curative magic and a spell of renewed vigor.

“Let’s go.”

Ronin lifted Blanche into his arms, then used his psychic force to carry Elron, soaring upward toward the Ushan estate.

“Master,” Elron murmured mid-flight, “you feel… stronger.”

Ronin gave a slight nod. “This is the power of legend.”

Awe lit Elron’s face. “If they mean to unite against you now… they stand no chance.”

Soon, they reached the estate.

Overwhelmed by grief and exhaustion, Blanche had already fallen asleep in Ronin’s arms.

After laying her gently to rest, he instructed Elron to stay and guard her, then took several high-grade healing scrolls and returned alone to hover above the Golden Feather Palace.

The guards assigned to watch the prisoners were all dead—no alarm had been raised. No one yet knew the hostages were gone.

On the square before Odrun Hall, Garret clashed fiercely with Ronin’s doppelgänger.

Garret had held back his Flame Seal, not unleashing his full might at once. The clone, too, conserved energy—its purpose was to stall.

For now, the duel was fought blade to blade.

At first, Garret found himself pressed, his aggressive strikes parried, unable to break through.

But as rounds passed, the clone’s strength waned. Momentum shifted. Garret gained the upper hand.

“So much for your fearsome reputation,” Garret sneered. “Is this truly all you are?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Very well. Let me show you my full power!”

With those words, he ignited the Flame Seal. Power surged through him—speed, strength, fury unleashed.

*Boom!*

The next strike sent the doppelgänger flying, crashing into the surrounding buildings, collapsing stone and timber alike.

Garret roared in triumph, pouring out every ounce of resentment, rage, and hatred he’d harbored since first facing Ronin.

This moment—this victory—was sweet beyond measure!

Thrandil, Ural, and Ferals smiled. They had feared Ronin after he slew Murphist and bested the combined assault of Aruba and others. Now, they thought, perhaps they’d overestimated him.

Some nobles paled, mourning the fall of a rising star. They knew the Ushan family was doomed.

Once this unpredictable crown prince ascended, he would not spare their lands—not after Ronin’s death.

Only Karllos watched in silent agony, inwardly mocking Garret. How would he feel when he realized he’d just fought a mere shadow?

“Come!” Garret taunted. “Didn’t you once block the combined strike of me, Ferals, and Andrei? Show me that move! Let’s see if it can withstand *my* attack!”

His blade began to gather lightning—crackling, compressed, wild as his soul.

From the rubble, the doppelgänger rose.

It did not wield Flowing Flame, so it could not summon True Heavenfire.

Yet with every last shred of supernatural energy, it invoked Ridal’s secret art—Heavenfire nonetheless.

*Roar!*

Its entire form blazed with light, every mote of aura converging into the sword, then erupting skyward as a vast crimson cloud.

“*Slash!*”

The sword fell. From the cloud, a colossal blade of fire plunged toward Garret.

“You won’t even use your strongest technique?” Garret sneered. “Do you mock me?”

Thunder roared forth, clashing against the inferno in a cataclysm of sound and force.

Through the storm, Garret charged forward, unbroken, and drove his blade straight through the fading phantom’s heart.

“It’s over, Ronin!”

Garret’s expression was one of utter satisfaction. “Your death will hasten my ascent to the throne of Emperor Orlandt!”

Lightning crackled along the blade, tearing apart the clone’s form. As it began to dissipate, the clone’s lips curled upward. “Is it over? The truth… may be cruel.”

Sss—

With a piercing hiss, the Roanin clone pierced through by Garret erupted in a burst of azure radiance, then vanished into thin air.

“What?!”

Garret’s eyes widened in shock. He had only meant to destroy Roanin’s heart—not obliterate his entire body.

What just happened?

Therandil’s face paled as well. Roanin wasn’t a spirit knight; even if torn apart, there should have been flesh and blood left behind—yet the ground bore nothing.

Suddenly, she looked up sharply, her pupils contracting violently.

Descending slowly from above came a figure, gently alighting before Garret.

“No… impossible!”

Garret stared in disbelief. He had clearly struck Roanin—how could the man stand unscathed?

Roanin’s face wore a cold, mocking smile. “Satisfied now, Garret, after defeating my clone?” (End of Chapter)