Master Gray was lucky to survive that attack of Roy, and so was Carl.
Heck, if half of the might of the Roar of the Sword hadn’t been sapped away in its struggle against the palm and Master Gray wasn’t an advanced-level Weapon Master, it would have chopped him, and then his son in half.
Seeing the youngster using a single move to defeat their master, the crowd revealed utter shock as they scurried away, not daring to stay close by in fear of getting embroiled in their battle.
Master Gray fell to the ground with his son.
If Carl weren’t protected, he would’ve died.
Roy didn’t want to become a murderer.
He had read their background and knew that the tailor cherished his shameless son so much that he would not hesitate to sacrifice himself for Carl.
That’s the only reason why he didn’t pull back punches just then.
“This bastard… he isn’t someone I can defeat.” Master Gray turned to him; the fire of anger within the depths of his heart was raging, but his face was redder than it ever had been.
He was the leader of a massive group of tailors and, although not good at combat, was still a weapon master.
His level was far above the unknown stranger. Anyone could tell that at a single glance.
Yet, he wasn’t able to stand up after facing the boy’s single slash.
Utterly disgraced he was!
A mouthful of blood he spewed out.
Just then, Roy narrowed his eyes even further and gazed at him coldly.
“I didn’t give up my hostage because I was blinded by arrogance. I gave him up because you’re not my match. You’re a tailor so use your hands for tailoring, not murder. It doesn’t suit you.”
Master Gray was kicked down by Roy when he was at his lowest, and his face turned from green to pale white.
“You wanted to see what he was capable of.” Old Blake’s tone immediately turned warm as he said, “Is that why you stopped me?”
Bernice replied, “I noticed he wasn’t showing sign of gloom when facing the old servant’s weaponized aura and thought he must have a reason, so I held you back. He’s young, but I dare say only that Monster back at the capital is his match.”
Her words ended with an easily describable emotion twinkling in her eyes. She was looking forward to the future. Old Blake shared the same question and excitement as her. “When two monsters meet each other, who would come out on top?”
Bernice’s lips curled into a smile as pleasant as a gust of wind in summer as she clapped her hands, “Fufu, this year’s adulthood ceremony is going to be a blast.”
Roy jerked his sword into the subspace, doing his best to keep up the strong act.
His back, drenched with sweat, however, showed how much pain he was in.
This was the second time, but he couldn’t get used to the pain that comes from using the Third Song.
The roar of the sword wasn’t a technique meant to be used by a trainee.
The amount of Aura that gushes out of the inner world to enter the blood vessels in order to escape the body in an instant was too much for a trainee’s body to handle.
If it weren’t for the fact that his basic stats were all at 50, he would’ve collapsed here and now, but because his stats were so high, he was able to chug the blood down his throat and go for the exit.
No one was left to stop him this time.
Or… so he thought.
Just then, the neighs of horses could be heard. Dozens of horses were charging toward Bernice’s tailors.
It was forbidden to directly ride a horse in the county, but horses could be used to draw a carriage at a certain speed limit.
These rules were created for the common people to minimize the death rate from horses running over people.
However, there was one expectation.
The inner guards could leisurely ride a horse in the streets of the county if they had a good reason.
Dozens of Knight unmounted and walked into the shop.
They stood in four files; their posture, unlike a dog’s tail and straight like a pole.
A man stepped out from behind them, walking to the very forefront.
He was wearing helm of different designs and colors than the others. It was like two curled-up silver wings.
Ferociousness could be seen through their gaze.
The appearance of this person brightened up Master Gray’s expression immediately. “Sir Dale, you answered my distress call at just the right time.” Before he came to find fault with Roy, he had asked his servant to seek the help of the inner guards. He knew they would come in handy, but he didn’t think he would be using them in this way. “This bastard is the one causing a ruckus at my place. Look, he ruthlessly beat my son bloody and even injured me to this state without hesitation. Please take him into custody and drag him to a cell. I beg of you, do us justice!”
Gray growled to the knight in question, making one wonder where Master Tailor in him had gone to.
He succeeded in fooling the just arrived knights as he looked really pitiful with a blood back and face and tears in his eyes.
Heck, even the captain of the southern inner guard, who was known to be chivalrous, believed him instantly, judging Roy to be some kind of vicious criminal.
“Miss, do you want me to wring his neck?” Old Blake asked for permission to kill Master Gray. He was a servant of his lady, and his deeds would harm her reputation, but the things he was doing were too questionable, so much that Old Blake felt the need to cut him up in order to put an end to the disgraceful act he was putting up.
“Let it be… I want to see how the situation plays out.” Bernice said.