334 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 334: Silent Shadows In the dead of night, beneath the pale moonlight, a whispering rustle could barely be heard. Equipped with artifacts rendering him invisible to the ordinary eye and boasting enhanced physical abilities after his transformation into a superhuman, Viktor could masterfully execute the effects of the Swordmaster's movement techniques, Ghost Shadow, to an extraordinary degree. Even though the security at the central temple was reputedly tighter than many royal palaces, none of the patrolling knights detected Viktor slinking from shadow to shadow, deftly evading the keen senses of the temple knights. However, just as he neared his intended target, Viktor found himself halting abruptly. Amidst the ancient, majestic temple structures, there stood a remarkably small white building. It appeared even smaller than the modest prayer houses in the McLine parish, yet it was conspicuously heavily guarded. At first, Viktor was almost glad to see such tight security; it confirmed that the holy maiden, whom he sought, might indeed be inside. But soon, something unexpected disrupted his senses. "…Magic?" Although he couldn't match his lord and master's prowess, Viktor's senses were exceptionally sharp for a superhuman knight. His heightened perception detected an unfamiliar flow of energy permeating the building he aimed to infiltrate. "Magic in a temple?" The temple, which usually acknowledged forces and mana only to diminish them compared to divine power, was employing a magical defense system? It was baffling, yet it made a strange sort of sense. "If the person they're confining is a pinnacle of holy power, mere divine wards would be meaningless." This revelation increased the likelihood that Holy Maiden Ilia was indeed within that building. Though part of him regretted preparing means to breach divine barriers, the magical ones presented less of a challenge to him. Everything seemed to be falling into place smoothly. Until an unexpected presence abruptly disturbed this calm. "This temple sure lives up to its reputation. I always heard temple knights are rigid, but I didn't think they were this strict. The rules must be something fierce." A middle-aged man, his face painted with a mischievous grin, brazenly strolled among the guards. Unlike the gleaming suits of armor inscribed with sacred symbols worn by the temple knights, this man was clad in flamboyant armor emblazoned with a majestic golden dragon. "Hey, hey!" He tapped the knights' shoulders, waved his hand before their eyes, yet elicited no response. Losing interest, he plopped onto the ground, head hanging low. "Do temple knights lose their emotions as they climb the ranks? Do the elite turn into stone? How boring." It was a spectacle verging on insult right at the heart of the central temple. Any ordinary person would surely find themselves swiftly disciplined for such conduct, but the temple knights maintained their gaze fixed on some distant point, as if the man didn’t exist at all. "Come on now, don’t be like that. I didn’t ask to be here either. What kind of nonsense is this? Why, as an imperial general, am I—... Ugh, if it weren’t for the prince, nay, the heir, I would’ve just…" The man’s theatrical punching at the air indeed cut a pathetic figure. His lighthearted tone and demeanor seemed almost puerile, but the content of his words could not be dismissed lightly. Not a knight, but a general. In the empire, only the commanders of the eight legions to the east or the seven to the west held such titles. In other words, this seemingly frivolous man was— "An Aura User." The golden-haired, porcelain-skinned man could have been considered quite handsome if not for the long scar marring his right cheek and the clouded left eye that seemed barely functional, giving him a rather fierce countenance. "...Who was he?" Viktor recalled the traits of the empire’s legion commanders that his lord and master had drilled into him, soon piecing together the puzzle. "Commander of the Western Seventh Legion, Max Illaya—The Mad Sword." "The Western Legion of the empire won't likely invade us lightly. If the empire starts a war, they’ll have to bolster their defense to the west as well." "Though, if things become dire, they might extract the legion commander at least." His lord had cited Max Illaya as one of the key figures to watch, describing him as an infamous fighter. "Reportedly an Intermediate Aura User, but rumored to exhibit far greater strength in battle." "Unusually, he rose from mercenary ranks to nobility, known for his wild temperament—a real brawler." "Legend says the emperor kept him close in his younger days but, overwhelmed by Max's unruly nature, eventually appointed him to command the Western Legion." Thus, this man was indeed an illustrious commander of the empire’s forces. "What's an imperial superhuman doing here?" It was a mystery Viktor couldn’t unravel immediately. Thankfully, he sensed that his exceptional acuity was indeed a blessing, given that Max Illaya’s abilities would be the very obstacle at such a moment. As Viktor cautiously distanced himself to stay out of Max’s sensory range, the man suddenly yelled: "Damn it! This is no fun! Someone’s supposed to come here, right? Drag your commander over! Let me have a go with him!" Max roared, springing to his feet. "The Divine Sword? Let me, an imperial general, see if he deserves such a grandiose title! Our old man’s nickname was just the Sword Phantom, what’s with the Divine Sword nonsense?" His provocations were so relentless and juvenile, it was easy to see why the emperor might have grown weary of him. "If he’s out on errands, call him back! Why don’t you? Scared of me, are ya!?" Viktor could understand why the temple knights maintained their stoic silence. They were probably ordered to avoid engaging with Max, lest they provoke him further. As the knights remained steadfast in their indifference, the exhausted Max eventually flopped back down, surrendering to his own outburst. "Geez, boring folks. I’m going to die of boredom." He yawned dramatically. As Max paused mid-yawn, his face suddenly flushed as if he'd just spotted something intriguing. "Hmm?" A slight chuckle escaped his lips. "...Nearby, huh? Interesting." Murmuring to himself, Max shot up from his seat, brimming with a newfound curiosity. "I'm heading out for a bit. Don't go tattling to the prince that I've vanished, alright?" He left with an offhand comment, vanishing without a trace. 'What a relief.' Viktor exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, feeling the cold sweat that had trickled down his back gradually dissipate. His confidence in infiltrating undetected, thanks to his artifacts and Ghost Shadow technique, was solid, but rescuing and escaping with the holy maiden was an entirely different matter. For some unknown reason, the biggest hurdle had conveniently removed itself, presenting him with a golden opportunity. 'His known capabilities are a tier above mine.' There was no time to dwell on the reasons. Viktor maneuvered like a specter, avoiding the flow of mana as he slipped inside the building. The structure was smaller than expected. It seemed like an unusual prayer room, housing only a single room on the top floor of its three-story build. And within that room was the holy maiden. Even in her old, loose-fitting robes, she radiated an unearthly beauty. Despite her slightly haggard appearance, Ilia was engrossed in her prayers, eyes tightly shut, exuding a sacred aura that was palpable. This wasn't mere metaphor. In reality, divine power—visible only to the spiritually attuned—flowed around her like clouds, overwhelming even the knights assigned to watch her. They gazed upon her with a reverence they couldn't conceal. Thus... Thunk. Thud. They were easily subdued. “It’s been a while, Holy Maiden.” Upon hearing Viktor’s voice, Ilia turned her gaze towards him, eyes widening with surprise, yet filled with unmistakable joy even in such a dire moment. “Sir Viktor?” “Yes, it’s me. I’ve come to escort you out. We must leave.” “How... how are you here?” “It's a long story. Let’s go first.” Perhaps sensing a semblance of solace, Viktor smiled gently at Ilia. But then he heard a voice he detested, one that should not have been there. "So, here you were. Just a moment ago, it felt like you were outside." As he turned, Viktor found himself face to face with the scarred visage of Max Illaya. "You have quite an intriguing talent.” Max smirked as if he found the situation amusing. It seemed the temple's wards, designed to mask noise, had dulled even Max's heightened senses. 'I can't believe I let this happen.' The mistake lay not just in letting someone approach unnoticed. In his eagerness to greet Ilia, he'd removed his mask. Now, the man before him had seen his face—a problem that couldn't be ignored. 'We can’t escape without a fight.' Although he wasn’t widely known yet, given the Empire's intelligence network, it wouldn’t be long before they tracked him down. Thus, there was only one course of action. Srrrng. "Let’s hope your combat skills match your wit. And if you can, try not to scream. It’s best if we keep this between us, don’t you think?” Max’s voice was a low, mischievous rattle, his crazed smile widening. It was clear that this was a man who truly relished the impending conflict. “Holy Maiden, please step back.” “…Yes.” "A smart choice. I’d hate for the Holy Maiden to get hurt. For that consideration, I’ll grant you a swift death." He sneered. Taking down an opponent of clearly superior skill? Normally, it would be unthinkable. But Viktor's mind raced. —Max Illaya. His trait is known as 'Instinct.' Like a downgraded version of Jerome DeCaid's, but supposedly more effective when facing multiple opponents on a battlefield. An 'Instinct' trait was maddeningly vague and abstract. But here they weren't on a battlefield, and Max appeared eager for a one-on-one duel. Just as Viktor had gauged his opponent, Max had assessed Viktor's abilities. Overconfidence. Moreover, Max had inadvertently revealed a crucial hint in his own words. 'Thought it was outside, but it was here. Clearly, there are limitations to that trait.' —The manifestation of traits stems from one’s desires. Naturally, even seemingly useless or abstract traits can emerge. —Traits like the Falcon’s Eye or superhuman hearing, capable of perceiving people beyond the horizon or sounds from kilometers away, at least have some practicality. —Conversely, the more vague the meaning of a trait, the less efficient and useful it becomes. For instance, a trait like 'Peace' is… Viktor dismissed the idle thoughts with a shake of his head. Max's 'Instinct' couldn't predict everything. That meant there was a chance. 'It all rests on a single strike.' Viktor gathered the power from his heart’s Force Core. His sword emitted a peculiar gray aura that began to pulse and swell. But Max remained unfazed. “Ho. More impressive than I thought?” Naturally. This wasn’t about massacring weaker foes or throwing out an aura blade prematurely, which would simply waste energy. Instead, the show of power only fanned Max’s hubris. “A sword with a gray aura? How intriguing.” With an unexpectedly relaxed step, Max closed the distance between them, his stride almost instantaneous. Simultaneously, he swung his sword. A crimson aura gathered at the tip, then shot forth like an arrow towards Viktor's heart. To an aura user, it was fast, but by no means beyond reaction. In that briefest of moments, doubt flickered in Max's one good eye. 'Not planning to evade?' His 'Instinct' trait suggested Viktor’s objective, and it was borderline ridiculous. 'Willing to die with me? Heh. But...' As those thoughts formed, Max’s crimson aura surged forward, intent on ensuring his fatal strike. ‘The only one dying here is you.’ Max had anticipated a satisfying clash, but the abruptness left him wanting. However... Pshhk. Vuuuung. As Max’s sword pierced Viktor’s heart, the gray aura blooming from Viktor’s blade expanded exponentially, driving through Max’s heart with blinding speed. Pshuuuk. “Gahhh—” "Ngh..." It all transpired in a fraction of a second. ‘I did it...’ Gazing into the eyes of his astounded adversary, Viktor braced himself against the searing pain coursing through him. "Grrrr... This... this damn insanity..." Max's sole remaining eye widened twice over, curses spilling from his lips. A split second later, a sharp scream pierced the air from behind Viktor. "Sir Viktor! No!" "I'm... all right..." With Max's life force now extinguished, Viktor brutally yanked out the sword embedded in his chest. Blood erupted in a scarlet spray, causing an uncanny weakness to claim his limbs. 'This... this can't be happening.' Heal. You can do it! Grinding his teeth, Viktor willed his body to obey him. The Force of his core, trained through the secret art of the Divine Sword, revolved endlessly around its primary nucleus, emitting energy. Additionally, his trait, 'Endless Vitality,' did more than merely channel power beyond his martial level. Its pinnacle lay in its unparalleled regenerative abilities—capable of healing any wound. Viktor had staked everything on that trait, but his heart failed to listen. And Viktor soon realized the reason why. 'Damn aura. What a fool I’ve been.' Half of his gamble had paid off. The five Force Cores managed to prevent his heart from being fully destroyed by momentarily converting aura. However, the residual enemy aura was obstructing the regeneration process. The power of aura, capable of annihilating all. Without complete mastery of his trait, overcoming such an aura's aftermath was an impossibility. His haste had clouded his judgment. Yet... ‘I can't die like a fool.’ With tenacity, Viktor clung to the embers of life. And then... "Blood... it's pouring out! This can't be happening!" Ilia cried out, frantically pressing her hands against the wound gushing blood from Viktor's chest. "Please..." Divine energy flowed luminously from her hands, spreading instantly throughout his entire body. Under the grace of this holy power, his withering flesh regained strength, and his fading consciousness sharpened. As his once-paralyzed thought processes regained function, Viktor recalled the means necessary for survival. ‘A force to crush aura.’ Fortunately, Viktor knew just such a technique. The Fifth Form of the Divine Sword Art, Soul Severance (生靈斬, Saengryeongcham). Until now, he had barely managed to execute it during intensive practice, but mastery and innovation could make it possible here. The urgency of life sharpened his focus to an extreme, with the holy power pouring into him providing a stable foundation. In no time, every aspect of Soul Severance crystallized in Viktor's mind, a realization that subsequently eradicated the remaining aura from his heart. In that moment, Viktor understood he had broken through yet another threshold, growing beyond his former limits. Wuuung. His Force Core birthed a sixth nucleus. The resulting Fus doubled in potency, quickly healing the wounds in his heart. Moments later, Viktor exhaled violently, as if he had just resurfaced after nearly drowning. "Gah... ugh..." "Wh-what? How...?" Tears still wet on her cheeks, Ilia looked on, bewildered. Seeing her eyes, Viktor couldn’t help but cough up more blood. Cough. ‘This truly was madness. Luck was on my side.’ The rush of relief gave rise to a bolstered confidence. The rewards of his wild gamble were great. While his advancement in skill and level was considerable, what pleased him most was having taken down an imperial superhuman with a single strike, all without making a conspicuous noise. The fact that their clash, while intense, hadn't disrupted even the temple's soundproofing magic. And so Viktor smiled. “I’m fine now. Let's go, Holy Maiden.” To reassure her. "Ah!" "...?" "No, sorry. Let's hurry." Perhaps it hadn't crossed his mind how the blood-stained smile might appear to others, but fortunately, the temple knights outside remained oblivious and silent. Even as Viktor carried the holy maiden out of the building. By the next morning... – The false Holy Maiden Ilia Gavon has been excommunicated. News that would shake the very foundation of the theocratic nation and the world beyond began to spread.