Chapter 4: Revenge Raid

"I am, for the most part, a fairly level-headed man, yet there are moments when I succumb to impulse, for I believe that choosing the 'correct' path in certain matters only leads to regret."

Crouched amidst a pool of blood congealing from a pile of corpses, Wang Yu spoke these words while honing his blade with a salvaged whetstone.

His audience was Avia Dofin.

"The most prudent course of action now is to wait for nightfall; most of them are dead, and I suspect the majority lie here."

"The surest way to escape is to wait—wait for the dark, wait for their ranks to descend into chaos."

"I did not attempt to hide before because their numbers were too vast; once they realized we were gone, a wide-scale manhunt would have ensued."

"In such a confined area, under the scrutiny of so many, we would surely have been caught."

"But now, with most of them dead, you could simply hide," Wang Yu said, gesturing toward the bodies with a shrug.

"And what of you?" Avia asked, his expression unreadable as he looked at the man who had laid out the stakes so clearly.

"As for me, Leonard was killed by that man called Obi-Wan. I am a simple man: I repay debts of hatred and gratitude alike."

"Leonard saved my life more than once. I could not prevent his death, but my rage will not permit Obi-Wan to remain in this world. This is my conviction."

"So, I intend to ambush Obi-Wan now, and send him to hell to keep Leonard company..."

He thought of what Leonard had given him; the righteous old knight had truly asked for nothing in return.

The expenses for his training and education had all come from Leonard’s own purse.

Though it was said that Wang Yu would eventually repay him with the bounties he earned as a mercenary, by now, Wang Yu was self-sufficient, and Leonard had never once come to collect.

Wang Yu was friendly toward strangers, yet he could turn cold when interests clashed.

But the sincerity he held for those he cared about was something he would never discard, nor would he ever lose.

With a stern expression, he finished sharpening his sword and slung it across his back. Wang Yu stood up, stretched his limbs, and prepared to face Obi-Wan in a duel to the death.

Suddenly, he noticed that Avia had not followed his advice to leave, but remained by his side.

Catching Wang Yu’s gaze, Avia asked with a strange inflection, "What would happen if we let the Guild handle this?"

Wang Yu paused for two seconds before answering.

"The Guild would require us to return and file a report before they took action, but by then, Obi-Wan—who has seen so many of his men die—would surely notice the shift in events."

"Given the layout here, he is a cautious man; he would flee before the Guild arrived... and I would likely lose my chance to kill the bastard."

"So he would run, then... well, I suppose I shall stay and help you," Avia said, his tone laced with hesitation.

It was clear he was still fearful and timid, yet for some reason, he chose to stay.

"Ah, such sincere bonds... I am somewhat envious," Avia muttered to himself, his voice so soft it went unnoticed, tinged with a trace of desolation.

"Is that so? Thank you, you’ve been a great help," Wang Yu said, surprised, though more than anything, he felt a sense of joy. A marksman who could strike from the shadows was an invaluable asset.

"It’s nothing. If not for you, I would have died in that cell. As you said, one must repay their debts... is that not so?"

Avia seemed embarrassed; perhaps he was not accustomed to heart-to-heart conversations, but Wang Yu did not mind. He would remember this favor.

With this new support, Wang Yu’s confidence grew. Once prepared, the two carefully made their way toward the house where Obi-Wan and the mage Yegor resided.

Since it was broad daylight, they did not bother with stealth, merely controlling the sound of their footsteps as they approached the building they had identified.

……

Inside the room, Obi-Wan and the mage sat at a table.

The mage was writing in a notebook-like object with an expression of manic, inexplicable fervor and joy.

Beside him, Obi-Wan looked bored and irritated.

"Tap, tap," Obi-Wan rapped on the table.

"Tell me, what is the point of this research? Don't mages and warlocks both use magic? What is the use of this?"

"Where is the mind-control spell you promised me? What results have you shown so far? You’ve driven so many captives insane!"

"All you have is this 'Mind Blast' that causes headaches and incapacitates, but what use is that to me? I cannot cast spells!"

"I need a spell to control people's hearts and minds so that I can expand my territory!"

Obi-Wan questioned the mage Yegor’s progress with a tone of dissatisfaction.

"Boss Obi-Wan, be patient. That noble captive has the highest Void affinity I have ever seen. Once I study his mental structure, I will surely become a warlock, and then..."

The old mage Yegor explained calmly.

Before he could finish, Obi-Wan interrupted the rambling old man with a growl of annoyance.

"I don't care what kind of warlock you become; I want results! You give me results, and I will give you convenience!"

"That noble captive may have been sold by his own family, making him less valuable than true nobility, but he is not something one finds every day. If you don't give me results this time, I will have your head!"

Interrupted by Obi-Wan, the old mage Yegor remained unhurried.

He knew that not only did Obi-Wan need him, but Obi-Wan was not confident he could kill him before he unleashed his Mind Blast.

Obi-Wan provided the materials, and the old mage promised the results. On the surface, the mage was the weaker party, but if it came to a fight, the outcome was far from certain.

"I must correct you on one point, Boss Obi-Wan. Warlocks and mages are entirely different."

"Mages rely on mana to manipulate elements or release direct attacks; they utilize what already exists."

"But warlocks are different. They use their own spirit to draw upon the power of the Void to rewrite reality. A mage can cast a fireball, but a warlock can twist that fireball directly into an ice sphere."

"These are entirely different mechanisms. The question now is, what kind of person can wield warlock arts?"

"First, they must have Void affinity, otherwise they cannot even sense the Void."

"At the same time, they must possess a powerful will; so many warlocks have had their lives claimed by the Void."

"Without a strong will, one is merely stripped of agency by the Void and twisted into those disgusting, indescribable monsters. How can those pathetic creatures call themselves warlocks?"

"They are merely miserable, laughable insects. And I, a true warlock with an iron will, lack the Void affinity."

"How can this be? How can this be allowed?! If it is not given to me, I will seize it! I will take it! That is the purpose of my mastery of mental arts."

"I will seize that noble's soul structure and make his Void affinity my own. Let’s see who dares call me a useless mage then... Hahaha! Hahaha!"

The old mage had begun by explaining to Obi-Wan, but as he spoke, he grew increasingly excited, his face contorting into a twisted smile as he let out a hoarse, grating cackle.

Seeing the old man’s madness, Obi-Wan felt an indescribable disgust.

An uncontrollable old fool...

If not for the fact that he needed him, and that he himself was merely a junior apprentice knight with the human limit of 1.2, he would have killed this damned old mage long ago.

His face twitched with suppressed loathing as he stared at the laughing old man.

But at that moment, a knock sounded at the door. The old mage’s laughter ceased, and he asked Obi-Wan with a tone of dissatisfaction.

"What is wrong with your subordinates? So ignorant. Daring to knock on your door so casually? You should just cut off their limbs and bring them to me as experimental material!"

Ignoring the old mage’s disrespectful words, Obi-Wan gripped his sword with a grave expression.

He drew the blade, held it in his hand, and crept cautiously toward the door.

His subordinates would never dare to knock on his door like that.

He was a brutal man, and he treated his subordinates with cold-blooded cruelty.

Those who displeased him might not be killed outright, but cruel torture was an absolute certainty.

Thus, his men lived in constant fear of him; the knocking at the door was never like this, for at the very least, they should have called out to their master with trembling caution beforehand.

So, who was outside, approaching the door with such stealth, while behind him came the old mage’s mocking laughter?

"Is that you? Your subordinate is about to revolt, yet you, a squire, are still so cautious and afraid. Perhaps I should bestow the title of 'useless' upon you instead, ha ha ha!"

Veins pulsed on his forehead, and rage burned like a furnace in his chest.

Obi-wan forcibly suppressed his fury; first, the subordinate who dared to challenge his authority would be hacked into a stump and roasted alive.

Finally, as for this old mage, once the task he was needed for was complete, by poison or ambush, it mattered not—he would see Yego dead!

Creeping toward the door, at the very moment he reached it, Obi-wan accelerated, slamming his foot into the wood.

With a thunderous crack, the door flew open, the immense force echoing through the room as dust swirled in the wake of the sudden gust.

Without looking, Obi-wan thrust his sword out with blinding speed, his form impeccably standard, a testament to his formal training.

His physical prowess, 1.2 times the human limit, made the sword's whistle through the air piercingly sharp.

"Swish!" The blade tore through the air, striking at the enemy who should have been standing there.

But a moment after the strike, Obi-wan realized there was no one at the door; nothing at all, for the person who had been knocking was gone.

Forcing a mid-air transition from thrust to sweep, he and his blade spun 150 degrees with extreme velocity, his eyes scanning the surroundings in a high-speed blur.

Still, nothing; even in his initial blind spots, there was no sign of the enemy who should have been there.

Had he misheard?

The question surfaced in Obi-wan's mind, but he dismissed it instantly.

Impossible. As a squire, his physical faculties were several tiers above a normal man's; when fully conscious, auditory hallucinations were an impossibility. Absolutely.

So there must have been a knocker, but where? Wait—a sudden thought struck him, and Obi-wan spun around, attempting to face the only other possible entrance: the window.

But before he could turn, "Clang!" the sound of shattering glass erupted, and a figure holding a shield smashed through the window and lunged inside.

The high-speed body, driven by the sheer momentum of the impact, was traced with lines of blood from the shards of glass.

And the target of this shield-bearing figure was none other than the old mage.

The figure was fast, but the old mage was faster.

Though he had boasted for years without achieving anything of note, his talent for fleeing was truly top-tier.

With a sudden roll off his chair onto the floor, he narrowly avoided the sudden, crushing impact of the shield.

The old mage scrambled under the table and immediately began to chant a spell.

The shield-bearing figure, seemingly affected by the massive impact of his own entry, failed to act for a fleeting moment.

He was busy shaking off the glass shards, which gave the old mage the opening he needed.

The old mage finished chanting his only lethal spell with practiced ease: Mind Blast!

Without hesitation, the moment the spell was complete, the old mage grinned hideously and unleashed his prized incantation.

Invisible ripples spread through the air, shattering the will of every sentient creature in their path; Obi-wan, standing at the door, halted his charge and scrambled backward in a panic.

Seeing the old mage complete the spell, he knew the outcome was all but sealed.

Though the old mage was a waste of space, the Mind Blast spell was terrifying to any knight lacking mental fortitude.

He didn't know who the intruder was, but the pause he took after crashing in—giving the mage time to cast—showed a lack of skill.

He likely wasn't even at the level of a squire; one hit from this spell would surely render him incapacitated. However, the spell did not distinguish between friend and foe, and he had no desire to be caught in it.

Sprinting out of the spell's radius, Obi-wan looked back.

As expected, the figure holding the shield, which had just been covering his face, froze motionless after the impact.

"This old bastard is truly dangerous," Obi-wan mused silently.

The old man was becoming increasingly unstable; perhaps abandoning the original goal and finishing him off sooner would be the better choice.

Unaware that Obi-wan was struggling to contain his murderous intent, the old mage chuckled, wearing a sickening smile as he approached the man broken by the Mind Blast.

"How laughable. You try to ambush me without even knowing who I am? I hope you aren't dead yet, or I shall be short one experimental subject, hee hee hee..."

Watching the man who had lost all capacity for action after being struck by his spell, the old mage felt an indescribable sense of triumph.

Previously, when he saw enemies remain standing, he would fear they had resisted, but after seeing the old knight's squire freeze before collapsing, he knew that those who stood still were simply those whose wills had been crushed into immediate unconsciousness.

He approached the shield-bearer with pride, but suddenly, the man whipped the shield away, revealing a face the old mage knew with terrifying familiarity: the squire, Wang Yu.

"How is it you?!"

The old mage shrieked in terror; he could not comprehend it—why was he unaffected by the spell? Why was it the squire who had been locked in the dungeon?

His pupils, contracted to pinpricks, betrayed his shock and horror, but neither could save him.

What greeted him was a sharp sword tip thrusting at his eye socket with lethal speed.

Wang Yu’s expression was cold; the longsword pierced forward, and the old mage, paralyzed by extreme terror, was far too slow to dodge.

"Squelch." The blade penetrated the eye socket without resistance, driving into the brain and churning the seat of the soul of this old man who had toyed with the spirits of others into a pulp of organic slurry.

In his final moments, the old man was not accompanied by wizardly dreams, but by endless terror and the sight of that sharp, final blade...

Turning his head to see the old mage slain, Obi-wan’s scarred eyes widened in shock.

"How can it be you?!" he muttered involuntarily...

"That's right, it is I. Come, you cowardly ambusher. Now, one-on-one, let us have a duel between knights."

Wang Yu pulled the longsword from the old mage’s skull, shaking off the mixture of gore and brain matter.

He kicked the old mage’s withered corpse aside, assumed the stance of the swordsmanship taught to him by the old knight Renard, and declared with cold resolve...