CHAPTER 489: SO, YOU CAN FEEL FEAR?

In the chaotic, wrecked room, dark magical energy burst out, causing the transparent barrier surrounding the area to flicker into view once again.

It was none other than a magecraft barrier set up by Tristan.

In order to make a move against Riezel, this violent-tempered Fairy Knight had used ’Opposing Mirrors’ to arrive in the room before Riezel returned and had laid down a magecraft barrier to seal it off.

Her original intent was to prevent Riezel from escaping and to keep others from noticing any disturbance and barging in, but now, this barrier had instead become a shield that protected Riezel from the aftermath of every attack, turning the Fairy Knight who targeted him into prey left with no one to rescue her.

"You bastard!"

Tristan, engulfed by the dark magical energy, suddenly leaped out, completely unharmed.

Needless to say, this Fairy Knight, like the other fairies, had a high resistance to magecraft and magic alike.

Having her own magecraft reflected back at her by Riezel only made Tristan even more furious, so with a sharp wave of her slender hand, she quickly unleashed several razor-sharp slashes in retaliation.

From her slender fingers, nails suddenly extended—long and sharp like the claws of a demon—swinging straight toward Riezel.

"Body of Effulgent Heliodor."

Riezel immediately used his most effective defensive magic, ignoring one slash after another as they struck him.

"Triplet Magic - Obsidian Sword."

Right after, Riezel cast another magic, causing magical energy to flicker around him.

Within the shimmering, magical light, three obsidian swords glowing with a dark black light materialized. Hovering around Riezel, the surface of each sword looked rough, as if they were stone tools crafted from rock.

In the next moment, the obsidian swords suddenly shot forward as if guided by will, launching a fierce assault on Tristan.

"Get lost!"

Tristan waved her slender hands, her sharp claws slashing cold arcs through the air as they struck the incoming obsidian swords.

*Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!*

All three obsidian swords were knocked away by Tristan’s claws, sending sparks flying with each impact, but those swords halted midair, paused, and shot toward her again.

*Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!* *Clang!*

As Tristan kept batting away the obsidian swords, the room echoed with the sound of clashing metal. Sparks scattered around her with every collision, blooming like fireworks, creating a scene oddly pleasing to the eye.

Even though the three obsidian swords were constantly deflected, they adjusted their paths immediately each time and resumed their attack, as if invisible swordsmen were wielding them, striking again and again at Tristan with relentless persistence and a natural, fluid rhythm.

"What kind of magecraft is this?!"

Annoyed by the constant harassment from the obsidian swords, Tristan was just about to play her harp to destroy them when Beryl, who had been immobilized nearby, suddenly spoke.

"Attack the caster!"

Beryl Gut, wild like a wolf, appeared to be wrestling against the force binding him. Veins bulged on his forehead as he struggled and gave Tristan a strained warning.

Only then did Tristan snap back to her senses and lunge straight toward Riezel, ignoring the obsidian swords.

Tristan was aware that her slashes, whether from strumming the harp or swinging her claws, weren’t working, and nothing seemed effective against Riezel.

On top of that, due to the strange magic mirror’s effect, her magecraft not only failed to reach Riezel but would bounce back instead. Not daring to use magecraft anymore, she had no choice but to go in for direct hand-to-hand combat to launch an attack on him.

Unfortunately—

"Too slow."

Even though Tristan dashed at him like a vampire in the night with incredible speed, Riezel still spoke calmly.

"Shard Buck Shots."

In the next second, a magic circle appeared in front of Riezel, and from it, blasts of crystal buckshot, each larger than a fist, burst out, blasting toward the incoming Tristan.

"You’re the slow one!"

Tristan let out a scornful sneer.

With a sweep of her hand, she prepared to slash the incoming crystal buckshot apart with her claws, but at that moment, three obsidian daggers came flying in.

They chased right behind her, aiming at her from above, from the side, and from below.

As they cut through the air, they immediately slashed toward her.

*Swish!* *Swish!* *Swish!*

Amid these tearing sounds, Tristan, who had no time to react, was struck one after another by the obsidian swords. Her wrist, ankle, and shoulder were all suddenly slashed, blood spurting out from each wound.

"ARGH!"

Feeling the sudden pain, Tristan flinched and cried out.

"Fool!"

Seeing Tristan stop, Beryl shouted in anger, but by now, even if he wanted to warn her, it was already too late.

*BANG!* *BANG!* *BANG!* *BANG!*

Shot after shot of crystal buckshot pounded against Tristan’s body, unleashing a series of dull explosions, causing her whole body to tremble violently as she was hit from every direction.

"AAAAAARGHHH—!"

A scream finally tore from Tristan’s mouth.

Looking like a princess, the stunningly beautiful girl was mercilessly battered. Blood burst from every part of her body as she was pierced, scraped, and torn apart by the crystal buckshot.

Before long, she was drenched in blood.

Seeing this, Riezel narrowed his eyes.

"Twine Plant."

With an expressionless face, Riezel cast the next magic, causing vines to suddenly sprout from the floor beneath Tristan, as if nourished by blood like a thriving lawn, climbing onto her body.

Tristan was immediately bound, rendered completely immobile, just like Beryl.

"Tsk!"

Beryl clicked his tongue with a grim look, clearly realizing how this fight would end.

Even while crying out in pain and struggling furiously, Tristan alone seemed unaware that she was no match for Riezel.

"LET GO OF ME! DAMN HUMAN!"

Tristan, soaked in blood, screamed hysterically.

Still emotionless, Riezel raised his hand, making the three obsidian swords fly toward Tristan once more.

*Swish!* *Swish!* *Swish!* *Swish!*

In an instant, the obsidian swords circled Tristan, slashing into her body again and again, causing fresh spurts of blood to spray from all over her.

"AAAAAARRRGHHH—!!!"

Another scream burst from Tristan, her voice filled with unmistakable agony.

And just like that, this scene went on until the three obsidian swords finally shattered.

’Obsidian Sword’ was a magic that created enchanted swords capable of attacking enemies as if they had a will of their own, where the caster could control them directly or let them attack freely.

While they weren’t highly lethal, they dealt physical damage rather than magical damage, which made them useful against opponents with high magic resistance.

Its only drawback was the time limit—or rather, the durability limit.

Just like how Force Sanctuary would lose durability with every hit until it vanished, the swords created by Obsidian Sword also had low durability. If the enemy blocked the attacks, the durability would drop faster. For this reason, they weren’t suited for defense, only offense, which helped slow the rate at which their durability dropped.

Nevertheless, no matter how slow it was, continuous attacks would eventually wear down the obsidian swords.

As a result, once their durability hit zero, all three obsidian swords shattered at once, finally bringing relief to the tormented Tristan.

"Ugh..."

Now, Tristan had lost all her strength to resist, hanging limply in front of Riezel while still bound by the vines.

Riezel gazed indifferently at her for a moment before speaking up.

"Compared to Gawain and Lancelot, you’re really weak."

Riezel’s words struck Tristan right in her deepest wound.

Regardless, just as Riezel had said, compared to Gawain and Lancelot, Tristan truly was weak. If both Gawain and Lancelot could be rated as Level 8 opponents by him, then based on Tristan’s performance, she might not even reach Level 7.

Yes, this adopted daughter of Queen Morgan, the princess of Faerie Britain, a Fairy Knight, and the lord of New Darlington, did not even measure up to Level 7 in terms of strength.

Maybe compared to regular fairies, Tristan was strong, but when placed next to the likes of Gawain and Lancelot, the only label that fit her was ’weak.’

"No wonder Morgan taught you magecraft. It’s because without it, you wouldn’t even stand a chance against other fairies."

No one could blame Riezel for saying this.

After all, in Faerie Britain, magecraft had always been considered an unnecessary ability, where, aside from Morgan, almost no fairy ever bothered with it.

At first glance, it seemed as though Tristan had studied magecraft to inherit her mother’s ability, but Riezel had a strong feeling Morgan had only taught her magecraft in hopes of making her a little stronger.

Maybe Tristan herself realized that as well, which was why Riezel’s blunt statement twisted her expression.

"Let go of me!"

Tristan began struggling violently again.

Seeing how frenzied she looked, Riezel had every reason to believe that the moment he released her, she would lunge at him. Even if it meant dying together, this blood-soaked girl was radiating an aura that said she would rip out his throat without hesitation.

Understanding this, Riezel’s gaze turned cold.

He wasn’t exactly a kind-hearted person.

Besides, this wasn’t even a matter of whether or not to show mercy.

Just the fact that Tristan had suddenly shown up out of nowhere to assassinate him, going all out from the start with every strike aimed to kill—that alone gave Riezel enough reason to deal with her.

Even if he knew that, in the original work, she was a pitiful character, that wasn’t a good enough reason for Riezel to let her go.

—If you’re ready to kill, you’d better be ready to be killed.

Holding this belief, Riezel slowly stepped toward Tristan.

"Create Greater Item."

A pitch-black sword formed in Riezel’s hand, and he gripped it tightly.

Seeing this, Tristan didn’t react immediately, but Beryl’s face changed first.

"You’re going to kill Morgan’s daughter?"

Asking in surprise, the way Beryl looked at Riezel shifted completely.

Upon hearing Beryl’s words, Tristan finally snapped back to reality as her twisted expression faded, replaced by fear.

Riezel’s voice then came calmly, like still water.

"So, you can feel fear?"

As Riezel finished speaking, he stood before Tristan, raised the sword without a hint of hesitation, and brought it down.

It was a blindingly fast slash.

It was a vicious slash beyond words.

No doubt, it was a blow that could cut clean through someone’s neck—a lethal, killing strike.

Even if the opponent was a fairy, it made no difference.

"..."

Time seemed to slow down for Tristan.

As that impossibly fast slash came down, it felt to her like slow motion as she saw that sword descending toward her.

In that instant, countless images flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern, replaying the entirety of her life.

In the end, only one figure remained in her thoughts—the most important one.

"Mother!"

Tristan cried out instinctively to that figure—the witch who seemed as though she were bound to a cross, about to be consumed by flames.

*Buzz!*

Suddenly, the space in front of Tristan began to tremble before it opened like a mirror, revealing a tall figure who appeared right in front of Riezel.

Raising a black spear, held like a staff, the figure intercepted Riezel’s rapidly approaching sword at the last possible moment.

*DING—!*

A sound like a bell echoed as the black sword and the black spear clashed heavily, stirring a strong gust of wind that swept through the entire room.

In that instant, time seemed to stop.

Riezel and the unexpected intruder locked eyes, both falling into silence.

Beryl also fell silent.

Only Tristan grew visibly emotional upon seeing the figure that had appeared before her.

"Mother!"

Indeed, the intruder was none other than Morgan—the so-called witch who ruled over the cold of winter had once again stepped down from her throne and appeared in front of Riezel.

Riezel stared at Morgan.

Morgan stared back at Riezel.

Though their weapons were still crossed, neither could continue the standoff.

Because the power within both of them had started to retreat at an alarming speed, just like the last time Riezel struck at Morgan in Salisbury, the power that had filled their bodies instantly lost its effect.

Clearly, this was the effect of the Stake of Oath, stripping the strength from both sides, rendering them unable to fight.

Riezel silently withdrew his sword, casting a cold glare at Morgan.

Morgan, however, turned away and faced Tristan.

"Mother, I—"

Tristan had just started to speak when suddenly—

*Slap!*

A crisp sound of a slap rang out, cutting her off.