Lucian answered politely but without any hint of submission: "I'm Lucian, a friend of John. There's an emergency at his home, and I've come to find him."
Ian, with his dark-yellow hair, let out a cold snort. "John is training with the other knight squires under Sir Vein. I can't interrupt them until I'm certain you're his friend. Either prove who you are or wait patiently for them to finish."
Ian despised John to the core. John had made rapid progress and earned Sir Vein's high regard, but in Ian's eyes he was nothing more than a commoner who couldn't even read, relying on petty cleverness and rigidly following the pedantic knight's code to curry favor with Sir Vein — utterly beneath someone as cultivated and powerful as himself. So the moment he heard it was about John, Ian couldn't resist making things difficult for Lucian.
Another squire named Drag also disliked John, and he stood nearby with a grin on his face, watching Ian "teach Lucian a lesson."
Of course, neither of them would ever admit that their hatred stemmed from jealousy.
Having said his piece, Ian fixed Lucian with a harsh stare. In his mind, this unsophisticated commoner who had never seen the wider world would be thrown into a panic by the intimidation of a knight squire — too anxious to talk back, reduced to begging pitifully. Only after he'd groveled enough would Ian send someone to fetch John. No real harm done.
Unfortunately, Lucian had experienced far more than Ian could imagine. Instead of growing flustered, spinning in circles, or dropping to his knees in supplication, Lucian spoke up with a grave, solemn expression: "A friend of John's is in a life-threatening emergency. If he's delayed in getting back because of you and something irreversible happens, your obstruction will be the primary cause — and it will be a serious violation of the knightly spirit of compassion. I'm sure when Sir Vein finds out, he will be very angry, and the consequences will be severe."
From John, Lucian knew that Sir Vein was a noble who strictly upheld the knightly code. If things really played out as Lucian described, Sir Vein would most likely dismiss both Ian and Drag. A dismissed squire's reputation would be completely ruined — barring some extraordinary opportunity, no other knight would ever take them on.
As for John's friend in mortal danger, that was of course Lucian himself. For someone who hadn't walked the knight's path, a little white lie was hardly worth worrying about. Besides, strictly speaking, it wasn't even a lie — at most, a vague description.
"You dare threaten me?!" Ian was furious. He never imagined that such a lowly commoner would dare issue a cold, calm warning like this. He wanted nothing more than to draw his longsword and cut the man down.
As a high-level knight squire, Ian took an angry step forward, unleashing a dangerous aura — the full eruption of the same oppressive force Lucian had once felt from Gary. The soldiers behind Lucian couldn't help but shudder and take half a step back. Drag, who had been thinking about stepping forward himself, stood rooted in place, silently marveling at Ian's power.
The soldiers, Drag, and even Ian himself could already picture how Lucian would react to the full brunt of a high-level knight squire's aura — trembling in terror, stammering out a garbled plea for mercy, maybe even wetting his pants on the spot.
But what left Ian, Drag, and the soldiers unable to believe their eyes was that Lucian remained just as grave and composed as before. He countered: "Do you intend to violate the knight's code right now — to murder the innocent and the weak?"
He seemed completely unaffected by Ian's pressure, and Ian and Drag both sensed something vaguely — that this young commoner before them possessed a will as unyielding as a mountain.
"Do you need me to repeat what I just said? Do you really want to be expelled by Sir Vein?" Lucian took a matching step forward, his voice cutting and severe.
Ian wished he were the sort of scoundrel who cared nothing for his own life or future, the kind who could draw his sword right now and cut Lucian down. But he still wanted to become a knight, still wanted to become a noble, still wanted his own estate. Throwing all of that away over a couple of heated words — that was absolutely not what he truly wanted.
As for the option of killing Lucian and then framing him, with John around and plenty of farmers working in the nearby fields, Ian simply couldn't pull it off. If not for the fact that he couldn't back down without losing face, he would have already conceded.
Drag saw that Ian's momentum was fading and understood what he was thinking. He shot Lucian a venomous glare, then tugged on Ian's arm. "John is our comrade. Since his friend is in a life-threatening emergency, there's no need to waste time here with this ill-mannered commoner. Let's go tell John right away."
"Fine. If it weren't for John's sake, I'd teach you a lesson in manners," Ian said, seizing the offered exit gracefully and speaking to Lucian without any regard for the fact that John was the squire he despised most — the one he wished would simply drop dead.
Then, unwilling to look at Lucian's detestable face a moment longer, Ian turned and entered the estate to report to Sir Vein.
Drag remained standing there with a cold expression, not deigning to say another word to Lucian.
Lucian couldn't have cared less. He stood quietly off to the side, waiting. Ian's aura pressure just now wouldn't have been very effective before his soul was damaged, but after the injury it could indeed shake his spirit. Fortunately, Lucian now possessed the Ice Avenger — merely reaching into his pocket and touching it brought his willpower up to the level of a first-rank knight, far stronger than before. Ian's little display of pressure was like a passing breeze, having absolutely no effect.