Chapter 111: Allen Amiel (1)
The pillar of fire was still blazing, shooting straight up without knowing the meaning of stopping.
It was so massive that it lit up even this distant place brightly.
Normally, it would have been such a majestic sight that I might’ve just stared at it blankly, but right now, there was no room to spare attention on such things.
‘Thanks to it, at least my visibility’s secured—so that’s a relief, I suppose.’
Kyren Amiel took a couple of deep breaths and murmured quietly to himself.
Leaning his back against a tree, he lightly placed his hand on the spot where he had just been cut.
Blood was oozing out sluggishly, but that was all.
‘Lucky.’
Compared to the bleeding, the wound wasn’t severe.
It had only grazed the skin; all the vital organs, blood vessels, and critical spots had been avoided.
Kyren, thinking it was a stroke of misfortune within fortune, focused his mind as if to channel strength into the injured area.
“Oh.”
Yul Runberg, who hadn’t bothered to pursue and had instead been leisurely watching from afar, let out an admiring sound, as if it were fascinating.
“For the wound to heal in an instant and the bleeding to stop… That’s one of the Amiel family’s secret techniques, isn’t it? You know, one of the reasons why the current Count Amiel was able to slay a thousand men on his own… one of the hidden keys behind him being called the Mad Berserker!”
“……”
“Seeing it in person, it’s truly remarkable. If something like that’s possible, then in a prolonged battle, your opponent wouldn’t stand a chance… Even I can’t think of a way to neutralize you unless I sever your airway in a single strike or cut off a limb.”
Yul Runberg tilted his head slightly.
“This might be an improper question, but… don’t tell me, even if a part of your body is chopped off, if you just pick it up and reattach it, it sticks back on? Like, what was it… a lizard?”
Seeing how he was prattling on, he must be in a really good mood.
Kyren didn’t answer, merely thinking that to himself.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his opponent was undeniably a more advanced expert than himself.
And since he had to put his life on the line and fight someone like that now, he needed to remain calm.
“…Can I ask you something?”
“Hmm… I don’t mind, but is that wise? Talking with me won’t do you any good, you know.”
“Maybe not.”
Kyren replied bluntly and gave his sword a couple of test swings through the air.
There was a slight stiffness, but fortunately, it didn’t hinder movement.
“Still, if you’re going to talk, I’d prefer an honest answer.”
“Is that so? Is there any reason I should?”
Yul Runberg flashed an awkward smile.
“I’ve been going on and on for a while now, but that’s just because of my ability—truthfully, I don’t really enjoy talking about personal matters… Besides, think about it.”
He shrugged.
“What kind of idiot would spill all their plans or objectives? I’m not a fool.”
“……”
“Frankly, I’m already regretting blabbering on about ‘filthy invaders’ and all that earlier.”
Yul Runberg exhaled deeply, as if sighing, and murmured.
“It’s proof I still lack proper discipline.”
“Well, now that you’ve started talking, why not go on a bit more?”
Kyren said, now having tossed aside any semblance of respect he might’ve had for a former mentor or famous knight.
“After all, when you arrive in the afterlife, you should at least have a decent excuse ready when they ask what you were doing.”
“Oh dear.”
Yul Runberg muttered like he was sighing.
“Is it alright to give up so soon when you’re still so young? You should be showing some fighting spirit, something like, ‘I’ll survive no matter what!’”
“If I threw myself at you, shouting how I couldn’t die like this, would you be moved enough to let me go?”
“Of course not.”
He let out a soft laugh.
Kyren chuckled wryly as well.
“Well, I wouldn’t have either.”
He readjusted the grip on his sword.
The discomfort that came with regeneration had long since faded.
He could now move freely as much as he wished.
‘Now then, what should I do?’
Skills, experience, insight…
In all aspects, his opponent was overwhelmingly superior.
He didn’t want to admit it, but that single exchange earlier had driven it into his bones.
‘He’s stronger than me. Overwhelmingly so.’
To make matters worse, the opponent could even interfere with others’ senses and common sense through suggestion.
Honestly, he couldn’t find any gap to exploit.
‘…And I don’t even know how much of what he just said is true.’
When facing someone who could interfere with the mind, one had to doubt everything and consider every possibility.
Kyren quietly reached a conclusion about the current situation.
‘It’s hopeless.’
He had no choice but to hope for outside interference.
The only stroke of luck was that enormous pillar of fire, visible even from afar.
No matter how reluctant the instructors of the Academy might be to get involved, there’s no way they’d ignore something like that.
“Waiting for reinforcements?”
“……”
“Well, there’s not really any other answer, is there.”
Yul Runberg still wore that inexplicable smile.
“In that case, the question is how long you can hold out… and honestly, even if they arrive, wouldn’t that be a problem too?”
He continued speaking in a leisurely tone.
“Do you have any idea how much effort I put into this Academy? Even Windy May Maddown, the Archmage, and Headmaster Yeriel Poas couldn’t see through my ability. Even if they come, I can handle it.”
“……”
“Not to mention anyone else who might show up…”
…His words were becoming unnecessarily long-winded.
Dragging out time was clearly advantageous to this side.
So why was he deliberately doing something like that?
Kyren came to a conclusion once more.
He hurled the stone he had secretly been holding with all his strength at the man.
Yul Runberg dodged it easily with a light tilt of his head.
“…Quick-witted, aren’t you.”
He grinned slyly.
Kyren charged forward, swinging his sword with full force, aiming to split his opponent’s face in half.
But with just a flick of his wrist inserting his blade in between, Yul effortlessly escaped a future called death.
Strike after strike after strike…
Kyren relentlessly pressed the assault.
Each time, Yul Runberg blocked or deflected the attacks using nothing but the most textbook techniques and postures.
‘He sees through all my attacks.’
Kyren let out a small sigh through his empty arms—no dagger, no weighted chain.
‘And yet, not once has he launched a proper counterattack.’
Just how little did he think of him?
Kyren’s teeth clenched with a snap.
Then it happened—
Rustle.
He felt someone’s presence.
And as if prearranged, both men simultaneously sheathed their swords and stepped back.
“……”
The one who appeared was Allen.
In a wretched state, he stood there blankly, as if his soul had left him.
“…Hey, Allen.”
“……”
Kyren called his name, but he remained vacant.
Yul Runberg also looked slightly surprised at the sight.
“Hmm, I guess he’s particularly susceptible to suggestion? Your half-brother, I mean… It wasn’t a suggestion meant to last this long.”
“……”
Kyren didn’t respond.
He simply observed Allen’s condition more calmly.
Click.
The pill case in Allen’s hand—
It was broken and empty.
Kyren knew exactly what it was.
‘…In that state, no matter what happens, he always ends up in a daze like that.’
The pills Count Amiel had strictly ordered Allen to take on schedule without fail.
Even though it didn’t concern him, Kyren remembered clearly just how much they had drilled it into Allen’s routine from childhood.
And also, how the children of the family who hated him once hid the medicine, preventing him from taking it in time, and what kind of state Allen had ended up in.
“……”
Allen was muttering something with a vacant expression.
Now that he was like this, Allen could no longer be relied on in battle.
Even if someone came right up to threaten him, he’d probably just stand there dazed, watching.
From Kyren’s perspective, already in a tight spot, this was just one more obstacle added to the pile.
“…Don’t tell me.”
Yul Runberg, who had also been quietly watching Allen, opened his mouth with a skeptical expression.
“Were you thinking of asking Allen for help?”
“……”
“Oh dear, really?”
Yul muttered, dumbfounded.
“After all the times you two nearly killed each other, and now that your life’s in danger, you want him to help you?”
“It’d be best if you stopped spouting pointless nonsense just to provoke people.”
Kyren’s response made him smirk.
“Oh my, did I strike a nerve?”
“No, I mean it’s pointless.”
Kyren looked at him with the same expression of incomprehension.
“We’re people belonging to the same household—the Amiel family. Whether I hate him or he despises me… that’s a personal matter. Just a petty, trivial issue between Kyren Amiel and Allen Amiel.”
But—
Kyren Amiel whispered,
“He and I are both Amiel. If it concerns the Amiel family, then both of us—and anyone else who belongs to it—are bound by duty. A duty and responsibility that any member of a noble family must bear.”
“……”
“Neither he nor I are foolish enough to forget something as natural and important as that.”
“……”
Yul Runberg’s eyes twitched slightly as he looked at Kyren, who spoke without the slightest change in expression.
‘How dull.’
That was what he thought, watching Kyren fail to react or be provoked as he had hoped.
‘Amiel family bastards—none of them are any fun.’
Whether it’s the father, the sons, or the bastard child.
All of them, every single one of them.
That cursed red hair.
‘…Hmm.’
Yul sensed that the time had come to bring things to a close.
After observing for long enough, he had concluded that Kyren Amiel was not a suitable candidate to receive his power.
In that case, it was better to dispose of him quickly and shift his focus to Allen, his next target.
‘If possible, I’d have chosen Kyren, the direct heir…’
But the world rarely went the way one wished.
Knowing that all too well, Yul took a distinct stance, raising his characteristic sword high.
It was a stance meant for the final blow.
‘Well, I’ll have to settle for the bastard, then.’
He seemed to be particularly vulnerable to suggestion, so this would be over in a flash.
Having calmly gathered his thoughts, he narrowed his gaze at Kyren.
To decide—where to strike for an instant kill.
“……”
Kyren also seemed to sense the shift in Yul’s intent and likewise began to silently steady his aura.
If the enemy was coming with a killing blow, he would simply respond in kind.
That was the resolve.
Both men stood in silence, gathering strength, sharpening their presence.
Amidst it all, Allen Amiel, who had been standing dazed, murmured in a hollow voice:
“…It’s quiet.”
“……”
“……”
No one responded.
Allen also didn’t seem to expect an answer—he simply continued muttering to himself.
“I can’t hear the voices… back then… we…”
The first to move was Yul Runberg.
Kyren followed, deliberately moving a beat later, as if he had been waiting.
It happened in an instant.
A brief moment.
A fleeting split-second.
In that fleeting moment, someone’s severed wrist flew through the air.
“…What?”
The dazed voice came from Yul Runberg.
A wrist.
His wrist had been severed.
Kyren Amiel?
Could it have been him?
Thinking absentmindedly, Yul turned his gaze.
“Khugh…!”
Kyren Amiel was collapsing, coughing up blood.
A deep stab wound in his abdomen.
He had aimed for the neck.
But that wasn’t the wound he inflicted.
Then who—?
Who the hell—?
“…Together.”
Crimson hair.
Hair even deeper in hue than Kyren’s trailed behind belatedly.
Holding a broken sword, Allen Amiel looked at the two of them with blank eyes—but precisely—and murmured:
“Let’s sink together.”
As he looked at the two he had just struck down, he simply smiled quietly.