Chapter 67: Irresistible Coercion

"Click." A faint footfall echoed as Wang Yu stepped out from an alleyway, casting a satisfied glance at the Void-Blade bracer on his arm, which still radiated a gentle warmth.

The "Gap"—that peculiar mode of traversal—was truly convenient. It allowed for a perfectly straight path without obstruction, shrinking the distance to a mere sixteenth of its true length. In less than ten minutes, Wang Yu had traveled from the entrance of the Shadow of the Royal City to the mouth of Red Maple Street.

He looked up; the morning light was already beginning to break. It felt like an eternity, yet only a single night had passed since Captain Shugein had struck down Erfin, the God of Life.

It was likely between five-thirty and six in the morning. The illusory pocket watch Wang Yu had constructed from Void energy had dissipated when his reserves were exhausted during the battle at the manor. He didn't bother to reshape or calibrate it; that could wait for later.

Entering Red Maple Street, he saw early risers already setting up their stalls. Those who could not afford a shopfront had to squeeze into the gaps between the City Guard’s patrols, offering lower prices to lure in a wave of customers.

Ignoring the enthusiastic greetings and hawking of the vendors, Wang Yu walked toward his residence. He was beginning to feel the weight of exhaustion. He could certainly push through it, but there was no need; a good night's sleep was exactly what he craved.

Reaching his door, he turned the key, pushed it open, and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

With a crisp click of the lock, the house fell into silence.

Wang Yu glanced at the two bedroom doors. His own was ajar, but Avia’s remained shut. It seemed the girl hadn't risen yet; perhaps studying at the academy was truly exhausting.

Shaking his head, he walked toward his room, only to pause at the threshold.

His eyes remained fixed, and he feigned an inspection of his pockets, but the three-meter radius of his Ripple had already laid everything bare in his mind. He had detected something amiss.

Because of the Professor’s earlier warning, Wang Yu no longer maintained his Ripple at its maximum fifteen-meter range, keeping it instead at a three-meter radius without Void augmentation. Ironically, this had refined his observation within that space to a terrifying degree.

The dust—the dust on the floor was wrong. Because the house was expensive and not located in the heart of the Royal City, it had remained unsold and vacant for a long time, causing dust to drift down from the ceiling.

While the floor had been swept, the ceiling had not. During the time Wang Yu had been away, the ceiling had continued to shed dust—a thin layer, but present nonetheless—and his Ripple noted areas of uneven thickness.

"These spots are indented... stepped on? Or am I overthinking it?" Wang Yu’s thoughts raced as he maintained his pose.

The Ripple swept over the surface of the dust. The high-precision waves reconstructed the indentations in his mind: footprints. Indeed, footprints.

No patterns... they weren't Avia’s boots. The prints were faint; the intruder must have been light and had deliberately tried to suppress their weight, though it was impossible to leave no trace at all on the dust.

As he walked toward his bedroom door, more footprints appeared in his field of vision. These prints had entered his room, come back out, and finally headed toward Avia’s room.

"Hoo..." Wang Yu exhaled softly. He felt terrible—worse than when he had faced dozens of mercenaries alone.

He didn't linger, nor did he pretend to be doing anything else. He walked to Avia’s door, gathered his strength, and let his Battle Qi circulate, simultaneously drawing upon his Ripple and Void energy.

His muscles swelled, his blood accelerated, and Wang Yu slammed his body into the door panel with an Iron Mountain Lean. At that same moment, his Ripple, augmented by the Void, swept outward.

"Bang! Crack." Under the force of his full-tilt charge, the wooden door proved incredibly fragile. It shattered instantly at the point of impact, flying into the bedroom in two pieces amidst a spray of wood chips.

The Ripple, radiating from Wang Yu, swept the room in an instant. Avia was slumped against the headboard, likely unconscious, and in the corner—someone was there!

The Ripple touched the figure at the same moment Wang Yu burst through the door. Yet, the intruder showed no surprise or hesitation. Before Wang Yu could even draw his axe, the figure had already moved.

Fast. Too fast. Under the observation of the Ripple, the figure’s movements left afterimages. They darted with extreme speed, stepping off the wall as steadily as if it were solid ground. One second Wang Yu was crashing through the door; the next, the figure was behind him.

"Damn it!" Wang Yu cursed under his breath. He had run into a formidable opponent. Was this speed even humanly possible? Impossible. Not even a Grand Knight could achieve such high-speed movement, bordering on teleportation.

It had to be an internal technique or some other ability! At the very least, they were a formal Knight. Twisting his waist, Wang Yu kicked off the ground and hurled his axe toward the figure, turning with all his might. He could not turn his back on the enemy—that was too dangerous!

"Clang!" A crisp chime and a flash of sparks filled the bedroom, which had yet to be touched by the morning sun. Wang Yu’s heart sank; the intruder had casually deflected his axe with nothing more than a small dagger.

He spun, drew his sword, and channeled Void energy into his body, providing the thrust needed to swing the blade backward with greater speed.

"Clang!" The longsword collided with the pitch-black dagger. Wang Yu’s full-force strike was intercepted by that single blade, which even chipped the edge of his sword.

"Damn!" Wang Yu was truly shocked. What kind of strength did this assassin, who appeared to be a woman, possess? This power!

Furrowing his brows, Wang Yu pressed down on the hilt of his blocked sword, sliding it along the edge of the dagger to strike at the wielder’s wrist.

"You are annoying..." a hoarse female voice rasped.

His vision blurred, and a massive force struck his hand. His sword was knocked away, embedding itself in the wall.

"Crack." The joint of his right wrist was shattered, and his abdomen was struck hard by a knee. The immense force broke several ribs, and his internal organs began to spasm and rupture from the impact.

"Pah!" Blood sprayed from Wang Yu’s mouth and nose. He tried to exert force again, but failed. Despite his lack of fear regarding pain, he could no longer muster the strength.

His right wrist was broken, and his left hand was pinned behind his back by a crushing force. The pressure from behind forced him face-first onto the floor. "Creak," his chest bones groaned under the weight against the ground.

"Cough, cough... hoo," Wang Yu gasped for air. The immense pressure made even breathing difficult, and the blood surging up his throat only worsened his condition.

"You’re annoying, kid. Are you in such a hurry to die that you’re struggling like this?" the hoarse female voice came from behind him.

"What are you doing here?" Wang Yu asked with great effort.

"Do you even know the meaning of fear?" Hela frowned. This guy had charged straight toward her the moment he entered, which had genuinely startled her. It was a pity; his technique and strength were pathetically weak.

"It seems I have to give you a taste of suffering..." Her voice was cold. The black dagger pierced Wang Yu’s ribs and twisted twice, drawing blood and shredded flesh.

"Fuck!" His only response was a word of little meaning. Nothing more.

"What exactly are you here for?" Wang Yu repeated the question.

"I didn't expect you to have such backbone. Even though you’re as weak as a bug, you are, at least, a member of the Special Operations Group."

"I’ll be blunt: I’m with the Royal Family. I suggest you stop thinking about resisting. Your 'Blade of the Night' has been overreaching lately, especially that Archbishop, Fang Stuart. Involved in both the Church and political factions... what is he trying to do?"

"This so-called Special Operations Group of yours is a product of his own design. Only a fool would believe he has no ulterior motives. We need an inside man, and you’ll do."

"Why me?" Wang Yu asked through gritted teeth.

"Why you? I don't care to answer your questions. Do you even realize your situation? Who do you think you’re talking to? Who gave you permission to ask me questions!?"

Hela’s tone suddenly grew high-pitched and angry. The blade plunged into Wang Yu’s back again, twisting violently.

"Sign this contract, or die. Don't give me any nonsense, you trash."

Hela had no interest in bickering. A piece of parchment was tossed before Wang Yu. It was covered in dense writing he couldn't read, but he recognized the final part: a slave contract.

"So this is the meaning of power..." Wang Yu thought to himself. In the face of absolute strength, everything else was meaningless. When someone held your head down and forced you to act, schemes and strategies were useless. It was an unbridgeable chasm.

"Cough, cough, I refuse." Wang Yu thought, his response immediate.

"How dare you refuse..." A cold, chilling voice echoed in his ear, devoid of any feminine softness, carrying only ice and murderous intent.

The dagger grazed Wang Yu’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. The sharp edge bit into his flesh, only a step away from severing his windpipe.

"You don't dare kill me." Wang Yu spat out a mouthful of blood, his voice equally indifferent.

Clearly, this person needed him alive. Furthermore, Wang Yu had studied the distribution of power in the Royal City. If this damned person were actually from the Royal Family, he would swallow his knight’s sword on the spot.

The Blade of the Night was a department under the Royal Family; it might have some transcendence, but it was limited.

Moreover, Father Fang and the King were friends—Fang had said so himself. How could this person, who had suddenly appeared and shoved a slave contract in his face, possibly be from the Royal Family?

He believed the real Royal Family would dare to kill him, but this person, who had emerged from nowhere and wanted him to be an inside man, must belong to some other faction.

Under the premise of outward peace, killing a member of the Special Operations Group would be a violation of the rules of the game, bringing only the danger of being attacked by all sides upon the faction behind her.

Of course, if she were truly a lunatic who feared nothing, Wang Yu would accept his fate. Strength—that was the gap. If someone far stronger than him wanted his life, he could not resist!

"Heh, you’re right. I don't dare kill you. A member of the Blade of the Night’s Special Operations Group—your status is, in a sense, on par with the son of a Duke. It’s disgusting that a commoner like you, who is nothing, can hold such a position..."

The hoarse voice lingered in his ear, and the restless blade opened several more bloody gashes on his arm.

"Even if I don't kill you, I can still torture you, though that seems pointless... what an annoying mission."

The violence inflicted upon Wang Yu received no response, which made Hela feel irritable.

"So you can leave... there’s no point in wasting time here with me." Wang Yu squeezed out a faint smile.

"But I don't dare kill you. What about her? Heh, even if she is a noble, so what?" Hela’s voice was laced with mockery.

The blade was lifted from his neck, and the pressure pinning him down eased. Wang Yu looked up and saw Hela hurl the black dagger toward the headboard.

With a soft thud, the blade buried itself into the wall, and a streak of crimson slid down the plaster; a jagged gash opened across Avia’s cheek, her bright blood dripping onto the bedsheets.

"Well, what do you think? I don’t particularly enjoy using methods like this, but there’s no helping it—it’s just so effective. Tell me, will you sign this contract, or shall you watch me kill her? Of course, if she means nothing to you, then I suppose you win..."

"..." Wang Yu glanced at the unconscious Avia and fell into a sudden, heavy silence; even his labored coughing ceased, and the room plunged into a brief, suffocating stillness, broken only by the rhythmic patter of liquid hitting the floor.

"Speak up, won't you? Don't believe me? Do I have to kill her for you to see I'm serious? Hm? Then just sit there and watch her die."

Irritated by his silence, Hela gripped Wang Yu’s throat and forced his head toward Avia, her dagger poised and trembling with the tension of her muscles; she was not joking.

"Thump!" "Tap-tap-tap..." Two sounds reached Hela’s ears at the exact same moment: one was the violent, unnatural thrum of a heart, loud as a roaring engine, beating right beside her.

The other was a knock at the door. The first sound failed to distract her, but the second seized her attention entirely.

There was someone—no, something—at the door. A presence seeped into the room, triggering a primal, instinctive dread in Hela, the kind a human feels when confronted by a superior predator.

Hela was powerful enough that this fear curdled instantly into deep wariness and loathing.

"Wang Yu, are you home? It seems you have a guest. May I come in?" Zig’s voice drifted through the door, as gentle and refined as ever.

"I’ll remember you, you lucky bastard." Hela’s eyes locked onto Wang Yu, her face, obscured by a hood, etched in frost.

Wang Yu’s gaze was unfocused, as if he were looking past her entirely...

With a sudden shift, Hela released her grip and vanished through the window with startling speed.

"I’m coming in, Wang Yu." Zig’s voice sounded again, followed by the snap of a broken lock, and the professor strode into the room.

"Are you alright?" Lifting the blood-soaked Wang Yu from the floor, the professor produced a vial and moved to force it between his lips.

"Pah!" Wang Yu spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor first.

Sizzling like boiling water, the blood was so hot it rose in white steam; then, from every wound on Wang Yu’s body, this scalding fluid began to seep, enveloping him in a shroud of vapor.

"Not that one, there..." The words were squeezed from his throat as he pointed toward a corner of the wall.

Zig understood instantly, pulling a hidden compartment from the corner to reveal a canister containing a syringe with a long, wicked needle.

"Inject it here." Wang Yu pointed to his left chest, right over his heart.

"Thwack!" The needle pierced his heart, and the specially modified Spinel stimulant surged into his chest, forcing the runaway Knight’s secret art—the Bloody Gale—to slowly subside, revealing the rhythmic thumping of a heart and the boiling rush of blood that had been masked by ripples of energy.

"Cough... I’ve marked her. Kill her. We must hurry... I am still too weak."

Ignoring the shock in Zig’s eyes as he took in the state of Wang Yu’s body, Wang Yu stared into the distance, toward the direction the creature had fled...

The blood had marked her; she would not escape. It was only a matter of time.

(Well, the protagonist might have seemed quite capable and lived a decent life, appearing strong, but in reality, he is exactly as I described at the end of the first volume: he has only just stepped into the threshold of the supernatural. He is still very weak; ruthlessness alone is not enough—he needs true power.)