“Hehehe.”

The mysterious blind man hiding his strength laughed.

Of course, that mysterious blind man was me.

A blind man hiding his strength. Why hide it? I don’t know. But hide it I did.

“These bastards… all of them…”

With my hand wrapped in inner Qi gripping the blade, I muttered:

“They look down on the blind far too much. Just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I deserve their contempt…”

In this world, there are two types of people.

Those who try to help the weak. And those who exploit the weak because they seem easy prey.

I despise the latter.

Therefore, my plan is to kill every last one of them.

Crack.

I squeezed the blade tighter in my grip.

With my resolve made, I gave a small nod.

“Alright then. As the representative of the Blind Association, I’ll show you just how terrifying a blind man can be. From now on, you’ll piss yourselves at the mere sight of a passing blind man.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“This is the hidden might of the blind. Every blind man conceals such strength. Never underestimate us again.”

The assassin’s voice trembled.

“Who the hell are you…?”

Still clutching his dagger, I grinned.

“Have you heard the legend of the Saint of Blindness?”

“…”

“If not, let me enlighten you.”

Clang!

The dagger shattered in the grip of the Blind Association’s chairman.

“…!”

I spun around, slamming the sharp fragments of steel straight into the assassin’s face.

Thwack!

“Gyaaah!”

The coward who dared torment a blind man shrieked in agony.

“Now you’re blind too. Care to join the Association?”

“My eyes! My eyes!”

“Get lost. Trash like you isn’t welcome.”

I grabbed the back of his head and smashed it against the wall.

Boom!

His screams stopped.

Blood splattered red across the stone, dripping down as his body slumped.

Dusting off my hands, I muttered:

“What the hell, that was disappointing. I thought he’d put up more of a fight, since he talked so much when threatening me earlier.”

But the dead speak no more.

“Well, truth is, he wasn’t that talkative anyway.”

Cracking my neck, I glanced around.

“…”

The fierce battle had gone strangely quiet.

The assassins had stopped fighting. Instead, all eyes were fixed on me, silent as though their faces had been smashed against the wall too.

“Hmph.”

I studied the assassins who had surrounded Lady Ashley, their formation like a makeshift array.

I’d noticed it before—these men fought best in groups.

The way they ganged up on Lady Ashley, the way they didn’t hesitate even as their comrades fell one by one.

Individually, they weren’t as skilled as Shushruta’s death-disciples.

But together, they were a trained unit, drilled for years to swarm and overwhelm a single powerful opponent.

From their perspective, one man’s life wasn’t important.

Failure of the mission meant the death of the entire unit.

So they treated individual lives as expendable, hurling them like fuel to ensure the target’s death.

One would throw his life at the enemy’s flank, while another simultaneously struck for the throat.

…In short, they were filthy bastards.

But as I said before, such tactics only work against enemies who are “just strong enough.”

Against someone who could dodge two simultaneous strikes—or slice through both attackers without even dodging—what chance did they have?

Against a single warrior far beyond their imagination, they were only torn apart without resistance.

Lady Ashley’s golden flash had already proven that.

By the time I finished my analysis, one assassin in the circle finally barked a command at me.

“Deal with him first.”

Fwoosh!

In an instant, the assassins who had surrounded Lady Ashley turned their focus and charged at me.

The moment the words left his mouth, they moved. Not even a flicker of hesitation.

As they rushed in, I observed calmly.

The supposed leaders kept dying, yet always another voice stepped up, and the others obeyed without pause. Their chain of command was solid.

“Not so fast!”

Flash!

Lady Ashley stomped forward, striking again, slicing down several assassins that leapt toward me.

But there were still many more.

…Had there always been this many?

Or was it just me, feeling like more were appearing by the moment?

Who cared. The only thing that mattered was that there were still plenty left to kill.

“Good.”

I watched the bat-like bastards swoop toward me, then gathered inner Qi into my feet.

My right hand gripped the hilt of the sword at my waist.

One arm was all I had—but that was enough.

After all, it was with one arm that I’d once driven my sword into the chest of the Prince of Frost himself.

Shing—

I nudged the hilt with my thumb, letting the blade peek free. The moment the assassins closed in, I stepped forward and drew.

Slaaash!

Those in my path exploded in blood, collapsing as their charge carried them tumbling across the ground.

None who fell rose again.

I burst through them, reappearing on the far side.

The aftershock left me staggering for a heartbeat before I steadied myself again.

Flicking the blood from my blade, I muttered:

“Mm. As I thought, it’s not working. No matter what I try, it won’t explode. My Qi really is too damn gentle. It’s like water—calm, peaceful.”

The Heavenly Demon agreed.

[True. If your temperament were any harsher, your ankles would’ve exploded by now.]

“Not that gentle…”

I had tried to imitate Lady Ashley’s technique, but it was hopeless.

Distance, speed, force, the fine details—everything fell short.

Without the explosion, all I’d done was kick off the ground with Qi and charge.

Once again, I was struck by just how difficult her secret art was.

How many failures, how much blood and pain must have gone into forging such a technique?

But I too am no stranger to blood and sweat.

I was once the man they called the mad dog of the Sherwood Mercenary Corps.

If it doesn’t work once, then twice. If not twice, then a hundred times. If not a hundred times, then ten thousand times.

“Come then.”

Watching the assassins hurl themselves at me without the slightest regard for their own lives, I flicked my sword in provocation.

The moment I tore through their formation so easily, they faltered in surprise. But soon, uncaring for the death of their comrades, they corrected course and came at me again, fearless.

Like moths plunging into the fire.

Failure is the mother of success.

From my earlier, flawed attempt, I had already learned what to improve.

Thinking back, Lady Ashley hadn’t charged while drawing her sword—she had aimed her rapier as though drawing a bow.

And really, I didn’t need to mimic explosions at all. My inner Qi was of a different nature—peaceful, unwilling to burst.

So instead, I’d call on a true expert of this field.

I immediately put realization into practice.

Tearing off the sling around my neck, I freed my left arm.

With that bandaged hand extended forward, my right hand drew my sword back over my shoulder like a bowstring.

Meanwhile, my feet were wreathed in the wild, unruly wind of Soaring Step.

Whoooosh!

My trousers flapped, my hair stirred faintly in the currents.

Feeling good, I cracked a grin.

“Closer.”

I waited until they stepped into range…

Then, once my aim was set, I stomped off the ground with wind-laden feet, soaring diagonally upward.

Slaaash!

I skewered two assassins in a row as I burst into the air.

Before I could even savor my successful straight flight, a wall loomed right ahead.

Unfazed, I thrust my foot against it.

Crrrk—

Like a spring, I ricocheted off, shooting toward the opposite wall.

Swoosh!

Those caught in my path had their limbs lopped off.

Upon reaching the far wall, I stomped off again, repeating the motion.

After a few passes, I realized stabbing wasn’t for me—slashing suited me far better.

So, in my own style, different from Lady Ashley’s, I sprang back and forth between the alley walls, mowing down assassins.

A scarlet flash—that was me.

Of course, Lady Ashley wasn’t just standing by. Her golden brilliance cut through the dark alongside me.

In the dim alley, golden flash and scarlet flash intertwined.

Together, we painted the walls with the assassins’ blood.

And just as the mural of carnage was being completed—

Shreeeeeek!

A deafening tear of air split the night. Something massive plummeted from above.

Kwaaang!

The sudden intrusion brought the battle to a halt.

We instinctively parted, forming lines on either side of the crater where the object had landed.

Thunk.

It was a giant spear.

A moment later, its owner leapt down from the rooftop, landing beside it.

Thud!

A towering giant of a man.

Gripping the embedded spear, he rumbled in a heavy voice:

“That’s enough.”

He was no ordinary man.

Of course, anyone who could hurl a three-meter spear like that could hardly be ordinary.

At the same time, two more figures appeared at either end of the alley.

One man, one woman.

Both exuded a presence that was anything but mundane.

Extending my senses, I felt it clearly—their mana waves were extraordinary.

The giant with the iron spear spoke again.

“Golden Flash. Sheathe your blade.”

His voice was as heavy as his frame.

Lady Ashley did not obey. Instead, she glanced between the newcomers on either side and asked:

“Has the Royal Family chosen to intervene?”

It seemed they knew each other.

“The Royal Family is sworn to absolute neutrality. Or am I mistaken?”

The spearman, with stern authority, replied:

“By His Highness’ command, there is to be no unrest during the tournament. Any further disturbance will be deemed defiance.”

“…”

Lady Ashley glared at him, but at last, reluctantly sheathed her rapier.

His gaze then shifted to me.

“You as well.”

I glanced at Lady Ashley.

She gave a small nod.

No choice, then.

But first, I flicked my sword to rid it of blood. Then, summoning a brief shimmer of starlight, I evaporated every last drop from the blade.

Ssshhh—

Only when it gleamed clean did I slide it back into the scabbard.

I could feel their faint surprise.

I cast a wary glance at the surviving assassins and the three unexpected arrivals, then asked Lady Ashley under my breath:

“Do you know them?”

“…Royal Knights.”

“The ones blocking the alley too?”

“Yes.”

I studied them anew.

“Can you name them?”

In her steady tone, she explained:

“The one with the iron spear is Van Dyke of the Iron Spear. The blonde swordswoman is Rutie the Swift Sword. The man at the rear is Silent Victor.”

“Ohh.”

As I regarded the Royal Knights with interest, Lady Ashley raised her voice in protest.

“They attacked first. We merely defended ourselves.”

“…”

Van Dyke swept his eyes over the bloodstained alley and the corpses, then turned toward the surviving assassins.

Had the appearance of the Royal Knights broken their will? They stood unusually docile. Not fleeing, not resisting.

Moments ago, they were ravenous demons, hurling themselves forward heedless of severed limbs or dying comrades.

Their sudden meekness put me on edge.

They looked like men waiting quietly for their shackles.

Van Dyke spoke.

“Bind them.”

“Yes, sir!”

At his command, voices rang out. Soldiers flooded into the alley, tying up the assassins.

Had we been weaker, they would have arrived only in time to collect our corpses.

The thought soured my mood further.

“…Why am I so irritated?”

I couldn’t place the reason, but the irritation burned hot.

Tilting my head, I watched the soldiers secure the assassins.

Step. Step.

One of the Royal Knights—the one who had entered last—approached me slowly.

The other knights eyed him curiously, as though even among themselves this move hadn’t been agreed upon.

Silent Victor, was it?

The only one still wearing a helmet, his face hidden.

Through the narrow slit of the visor, he stared at me.

Then, he asked:

“What is your name?”

At his voice, Lady Ashley’s eyes flew wide.

(End of Chapter)

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