The knight approached in the blink of an eye and swung his sword, but this time, Hosanna did not move along with Nahan. The lanky young man from the south quickly leaped over the knight's back and then ran with a limp. At the same time, without hesitation, Nahan threw himself towards the sword. The knight attempted to withdraw his sword, but it was too late to fend off the relentless opponent.

A sound of flesh being pierced mingled with a stifled breath.

Holding the sword that had pierced his abdomen, Nahan gathered all his strength and used his ability.

The method he had used against Commander Kishiar of the Cavalry in Great Sarain Forest before, by sacrificing his shoulder, worked flawlessly this time as well.

At the moment of attack, a solid barrier in the enemy's mind momentarily wavered, allowing an opening to infiltrate.

Through that gap, the ability spread widely, engulfing the knight, and created an opaque wall of illusion that was only perceptible to Nahan.

A space where Yuder Aile had once been trapped was recreated, and the knight's body stiffened.

"..."

Nahan stared at the stationary knight with a sword thrust into his abdomen, breathing heavily with a furrowed face.

Creating this space was no easy task for him.

He dealt with two main types of illusions.

One was the illusion he created himself, and the other was an illusion created by the target of the ability.

Creating his own illusion was easy. He could manipulate simple landscape illusions to the point where he hardly felt any limitations. However, such illusions quickly lost their effectiveness against strong opponents.

On the other hand, making a subject create their illusion consumed much energy but had a far more potent effect. Those without any abilities could have their minds shattered in mere seconds facing that illusion.

The problem was when he had to face someone with enough strength to easily break through such illusions. To trap such individuals, Nahan had to put in extra effort.

So far, only three had required such effort.

Yuder Aile, Commander Kishiar, and the knight before his eyes.

Unlike the previous two, the fact that the knight was not even an Awakener irritated Nahan.

"Certainly, you got a kick out of it."

He had thought that sending a non-Awakener against him was a trick to buy time, but now he had to admit that it was a miscalculation.

"...Kkuk."

As he slowly pulled out the sword that had stabbed his abdomen, blood gushed out. Nahan quickly plugged the hole in his stomach and slumped against a wall. With eyes filled with silent fury, he looked at the result of the ability he had created with all his soul.

Even humans who seem almost fearless are bound to fear something.

He might have been able to break through a weak range of power that had not even properly formed, but what about the ultimate illusionary wall that even Yuder Aile and the Commander had fallen into?

Nahan lifted the blood-soaked edge of his lips.

"From now on, I'll uncover what you fear. Then I will discover your identity and secrets."

At the moment he slowly stood up and was about to touch the wall,

A faint scream filled with shock and fear was heard.

"Aaah!......"

Though it was a soft sound, Nahan instantly recognized whose voice it was.

"...Hosanna?"

He turned his head, and from behind him, as if on cue, a completely different explosion sounded than any before. Beyond the broken windows in the aftermath of the battle, the bright red fire bombs that clearly lit up the night sky and soared countless times were danger signals fired by the Awakeners from the Star of Nagran.

A desperate and despairing signal that the plan to upend Baron Willhem's mansion and kill the knights of Tainu as they were found had not gone as intended.

What on earth was happening?

Lost in thought without an answer, Nahan didn't notice the gradually trembling movement of the knight's fingertips trapped inside the illusory wall near him.

When he finally turned his head and realized what was happening, the last thing he saw was the blue aura of light that burst through the entire third-floor corridor.

"Your Highness. Your Highness. Are you awake?"

Kishiar was lying flat on the lounge bed, unresponsive to the sound of someone knocking at the door. The playful touch of his hand, fiddling with the sleeve of the neatly folded black formal coat beside him, was both mischievous and aimless.

The knocking on the door ceased for a moment, only to start again as a little time passed.

"I, Your Highness. Can you not hear? Duke Peletta!"

Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump, thump, thump. The skill with which the door was knocked was truly exceptional. Not a hint of courtesy was felt.

Yet Kishiar ignored the call again. Next came a voice filled with irritation and anger.

"Your Highness Duke Peletta. Do you know how many hours it has been since you went inside? If you have heard even a little about the outside situation, it would be natural for you to lead us in person. Yet, what is the reason for your staying there? I cannot believe that you, the new owner of the Divine Sword and leader of the Cavalry, would ignore your responsibility like this. Please tell us why!"

This speech was quite striking. Kishiar, lying on one arm, chuckled softly.

"So they say, but what do you think of the clothes my assistant left behind?"

The formal coat in Kishiar's hand, belonging to Yuder, naturally gave no response.

"It's quite amusing that those who had a hundred reasons to scoff at me as the real owner of the Divine Sword are suddenly talking about the responsibilities of the Divine Sword's owner."

They weren't knocking on the door for the Duke of Peletta in this dangerous situation. He might appear higher in rank, but no one truly regarded him so; they just wanted to summon the man and push him in front of them. The rude tone, lacking even a semblance of courtesy, was quite impressive.

Long fingers played once more with Yuder's coat sleeve in jest. Kishiar, who had been swaying the sleeve slowly as if dancing, attempted to ignore the loud voices from outside once more but stopped and listened when the content went beyond his expectations.

"Lord Moet. Have you forgotten who is inside? The one who should be responsible for this situation in the first place is Baron Willhem, who abandoned us. Who are you repeatedly telling to take responsibility? The one carrying the imperial blood is naturally supposed to be in the safest place, and those who received the title must protect him according to their oath, don't you know?"

"Are you saying something that might be spoken in the old founding era? The Baron is gone, and the Baroness is unconscious, so who exactly is supposed to step forward? No one is brave enough, so I did! I want to leave this place right now!"

"If that's the case, then like the brave others who went outside earlier, you should go as well. Were you not the one who locked all the doors here, claiming it was too dangerous? You lack the courage to go out and fight for yourself, but you have the audacity to pound on the door and yell at the one who went to rest? Such 'courage' is truly laughable."

"What?"

In the volatile atmosphere, the voices of the surrounding people scolding them could be heard. Even after the commotion had somewhat subsided, Lord Moet continued to rage on like a madman. It was typical for those who were pricked at their own faults to get even angrier.

"Lord Koelt. Are you proud to have been invited here, being nothing now but a relic of your past glory...?"

Koelt. Repeating that name to himself, Kishiar recognized him as the nobleman who had only admired artworks alone, never approaching Kishiar except for today's greeting.

In his red eyes, an interesting light sparkled for the first time, and at that moment, the sound of fireworks bursting loudly outside the open window was heard.

Without a hint of surprise, Kishiar turned his head and soon afterward shifted his gaze downward. A quick and brief blue light flashed, coloring the night sky before vanishing. Then, the floor below vibrated for a while.

"Nathan, the boy. Making quite the racket."

As if in response to the soft mutter, a small note fell onto the bed where Kishiar had been lying, glowing faintly.

To our esteemed Commander. We've captured them all! From Finn Eldore.

The slightly slanted but crisp writing conveyed the writer's temperament. Kishiar casually flipped the note over, and a hastily written postscript caught his eye.

One has escaped.

His red eyes narrowed. He stared at the short postscript for a long time before lightly crushing it. Once again, only a handful of ashes remained in his relaxed hand.

A pity. The words that had been whispered within his mouth disappeared, and Kishiar, now risen, moved from the small, cramped bed that was shorter than himself.

He cracked the door open, and those who had been crowded outside all looked up at him.

Finally revealing himself, Duke Peletta did not seem to have any intention of hiding what he had been doing inside.

Brushing his disheveled golden hair aside and yawning ostentatiously, his face, still exuding residual heat, gave off an excessively sensual allure. The shirt carelessly thrown over his bare chest, unbuttoned, exposed his entire chest, and his crumpled, hastily redressed pants were just as bad. The reek of spilled alcohol was so strong that it masked the rank smell of sex, and the crowd might have thought that was rather fortunate.

It was unbelievable. Hours had passed since the party hall had been ruined, yet Duke Peletta had truly continued that act with his subordinate.

Stunned by a behavior more licentious than rumors suggested, people were still drawn to stare at Kishiar, who sighed deeply in feigned ignorance and finally spoke.

"Why on earth are you guys making such a racket? I simply cannot sleep."

"Your Highness, why are you coming out only now? Do you know what's going on outside?"

The young nobleman, Moet, who had been urgently knocking on the door, quickly stepped forward and exclaimed. His tone was incredibly rude to address someone of a higher rank, but Kishiar only raised an eyebrow and did not blame him, calmly replying.

"Situation? Judging by the crowd gathered here... Have all the other lounges been filled? Haha. If that's the case, I apologize, but I still need to use this place for a while."

"No! No one has come here to go in there."

Moet's face turned crimson as he shook his head.

"Hmm? Then what?"

"There was a loud noise outside all the time; do you really not know what's happening? We are virtually trapped here due to the intrusion of the bandits!"

"Trapped?"

"Yes. We heard that the knights are struggling outside, but we know nothing else. Now, only Your Highness, the master of the divine sword and the leader of the Cavalry, can resolve this situation for us. Please take a closer look."

At Moet's words, the nobles bowed their heads unanimously in agreement. Only Koelt, the nobleman who had fought with him, looked straight at Kishiar, fists clenched.

An image of a gentle-looking man of an age to possibly have young children, staring straight ahead with sunset-like eyes beyond his glasses, was rather impressive. Perhaps it reminded Kishiar of his own elder brother, who might be associated with a scholar or teacher.

Kishiar casually asked Koelt, "You seem to have something else to say. What is it?"

As if he had been waiting, the nobleman immediately spoke.

"While it's true that we are trapped here, it's not because of an external factor but because we locked all the doors and windows from the inside. Rather than hoping for Your Highness to take the lead, shouldn't we first unlock the door ourselves and call in the servants and knights?"

"Lord Koelt is not correct, Your Highness!" shouted Moet, raising his head and glaring at Koelt.

"Opening the doors that were closed for safety before the situation is resolved is nonsensical!"

Then, others began to add their opinions, and the area quickly became noisy. Most of them were in agreement with Moet.

The people remaining here were mostly those socially left behind enough not to know even about the auction, and among them, especially those who were very fearful.

Except for a very small number, like Lord Koelt.

Kishiar smiled briefly before speaking up to prevent the atmosphere from turning hostile again.

"Well, it's all fine. But what do you mean by asking me to take responsibility and act on your behalf while also wanting not to open the locked doors?"

"Your Grace, Duke Peletta, has been recognized as the new master of the divine sword and is also the one who leads the Cavalry outside, are you not?"

"And so?"

"We, without strength, may find it impossible, but surely the heroic Yude Al, who serves you, can easily solve this situation from here..."

Moet's voice trailed off as he looked past Kishiar to the bed shrouded in darkness. He then shouted, as if to a commoner with black hair who he presumed was lying there, as though expecting him to listen.

"Certainly, I came to beg you to give the order!"

"..."

Kishiar's expression hadn't changed a bit, either before or after hearing the words. He still wore the languid face of a debauched man whose lust was not completely extinguished, and the habitual smile at the corner of his mouth remained intact.

However, in spite of that, everyone present in that place felt a momentary and inexplicable chill.

With a sensation as if the sky was crashing down to crush him, Moet involuntarily swallowed his breath and clenched his buttocks, only to shudder at the sensation that disappeared as if it were a lie, moments later.

"The, just now, what...?"

"Oh. Are you alright? At this rate, you might collapse even before I find out what's happening outside."

Kishiar tenderly expressed his concern, addressing Moet.

"Your worries are all valid. The master of the house has left his post in a dangerous situation; how could you not be anxious?"

"That... That's true."

"But here's the thing. I don't know this person named Yude Al, so I can't give the order."

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