The moonlight was cold and hazy, penetrating the curtains only to become feeble and thin. Far from dispelling the pitch-black darkness filling Lucian's room, it only deepened it with an inexplicable gloom.
Darkness of varying depths shifted and churned with the play of light. At first glance it seemed to squirm as though alive, but on closer inspection it was so profound, so still, as though it had remained unchanged since the beginning of time.
In that darkness, Lucian lay on the bed, his breathing slow and drawn-out. The atmosphere of the entire room grew ever more tranquil and gentle, carrying with it the pleasant sense of a deep, sweet dream.
"From the feedback of the darkness, he is indeed lying in the bed…"
"Two longswords placed on either side of the bed, ten centimeters from his hands — quite vigilant…"
"Breathing normal, heartbeat normal, mental fluctuations normal. Only his hands are pressed under his body or the blanket, making it difficult to probe carefully… What an ugly sleeping posture — not a shred of the so-called aristocratic grace. But that's fine. It will slow him down by roughly one second when he reaches for the enchanted longsword after waking. That one second may be the difference between life and death…"
"Sleeping deeply, perhaps the knights and Great Knights patrolling Withered Vine Castle gave him a sense of security…"
"The protective amulet is still on his chest. According to intelligence, it activates quickly, but a death ward only counters instant-death and curse-type magic. It cannot defend against physical or elemental attacks, nor can it harm the attacker…"
"And it's not a high-grade item — it can't trigger on reflex. This Divine Arts amulet and any other arcane magic items Peter may have on his person cannot possibly take effect before my blade reaches him…"
"Ninety-nine percent certainty I can send him to hell before he wakes!"
After his careful observations, Peterlov arrived at a preliminary judgment and steeled his resolve.
From the still darkness beside Lucian's bed, a figure suddenly materialized — as though separating directly from the darkness itself, emerging without the slightest warning!
The figure took a single stride, trailing an afterimage, a short sword in his right hand glowing with a green so dense and vivid it resembled liquid. The blade slashed viciously toward Lucian's throat!
Moments earlier, Peterlov had not dared to get too close, had not dared to summon even a trace of killing intent — all for fear of triggering Lucian's danger instinct and causing things to go awry. Even if Lucian possessed a third- or fourth-circle enchanted longsword, or a fourth- or fifth-circle Divine Arts item, Peterlov was not afraid. The powerful abilities granted by his dark bloodline would let him whittle down the Divine Arts energy with ease before slaughtering the lamb before him. The only concern was that if the Divine Arts power reached fifth circle, it could very likely breach Matvey's concealment spell and alert the Great Knights inside the castle. That would make matters extremely troublesome.
The terrifying speed brought Peterlov to Lucian's side in an instant. The short blade descending from his right hand fell at precisely the right moment, striking the neck of the sleeping Lucian without a hair's breadth of deviation.
But the instant the short sword bit into Lucian's neck, Peterlov felt a wave of arcane fluctuation erupt — so familiar, and in this context, so horrifying!
Peterlov stared in shock as the Lucian beneath his blade shattered like a mirror, crumbling into countless fragments.
Second-circle Arcane Magic — Mirror Image!
Although the dark bloodline rendered him immune to magic below its own tier, that applied only to defense. When on the offensive, he was still subject to disruption from certain spells.
The fluttering "mirror" shards glimmered eerily in the darkness, giving Peterlov an involuntary sense of dreamlike beauty.
"A mage?! Damn!" After his blade struck the mirror image, Peterlov quickly recovered his wits and realized his intelligence had been wrong — the entire premise of his judgment was flawed! His body rapidly blurred and darkened, and without a moment's hesitation he retreated at full speed!
But that brief instant of shock had cost him. He saw Lucian — separated from the mirror image by half the bed — with a sacred, solemn radiance blazing on his chest.
Immediately after, the entire room was flooded with the vast, holy brilliance of searing heat.
And within that incandescent light, the dark figure stood revealed, rapidly dimming as though being neutralized by the sacred glow.
Third-circle Divine Arts — Scorching Radiance! Area-of-effect attack!
Peterlov endured the agony without letting out a howl, struggling to dodge, but caught directly in the Scorching Radiance he was mired as though in a swamp, or burdened by thousands of jin of weight. His movement was agonizingly slow.
Without hesitation, Peterlov activated the arcane magic ring on the little finger of his left hand.
But the moment the ring's faint dark radiance began to bloom, Lucian — standing on the bed — shifted his mental energy and cast Elemental Order directly!
Crack-crack-boom!
The magic ring first emitted a sound of shattering, then the arcane power destabilized mid-activation, detonating in a muffled but devastating explosion that completely engulfed Peterlov before he had finished darkening his body, blasting his light-brown blood in every direction.
At Lucian's current level — an exceptional third-circle mage in terms of mental strength — Elemental Order, against an unprotected target with no energy shields or force barriers, could destroy the vast majority of fourth-circle alchemical items!
But each such destruction pained Lucian greatly, for it meant one more potential trophy was gone. No wonder the ninth-circle Grand Disjunction had earned the reputation of "making both sides weep" — once unleashed, nearly all magical and Divine Arts items below legendary grade on the enemy's person were obliterated. Even if you killed the enemy, there was little left to claim, and all you could do was stare at each shattered piece of what had once been extraordinarily precious and lament.
Moreover, it was an area-of-effect spell that did not distinguish friend from foe. If allies were standing nearby… Which was why Lucian's Elemental Order had far more "conscience."
Seeing Peterlov struggling to complete his dark transformation amid the explosion, Lucian gave him no chance. The Solar Crown amulet on his chest blazed once more with its soft, sacred radiance, and a beam of flame descended as though from the heavens, striking Peterlov dead on.
Having gritted his teeth and activated the most forbidden, most powerful ability of the dark bloodline — Dark Assimilation — Peterlov had just managed to shake off most of the Scorching Radiance's effects, only to watch in despair as the holy fire descended like divine punishment, engulfing him completely.
Within the fiery glow of Flame Strike, Peterlov's darkened body rapidly dissolved, and in moments was reduced to ash!
Ah! His unwillingness was so fierce it seemed to echo endlessly through the room in a silent scream!