CHAPTER 317: CH 317: A VISITOR - PART 3

Sir Barton’s hand moved sharply through the air—a single, confident gesture—and in response, he shouted, "Cleanse this place! Wipe out the heretics!"

The trees trembled as if from the sheer force of his declaration, and Sir Barton stood tall, assured in the might of his forces.

He had brought elite followers, men who had crushed resistance wherever they went. There was no chance—no chance—that a minor noble’s village could stand against them.

But then nothing happened.

There was no clash of weapons. No sound of spells echoing through the air. Not even a shout of war. Just... silence.

Barton’s confidence began to waver.

That silence was pierced not by chaos, but by the sound of Kyle’s sigh—deep, tired, and unimpressed.

"You’re wasting your breath."

He muttered, stepping forward.

Sir Barton barely had time to blink before Kyle closed the distance between them.

With a smooth twist, Kyle grabbed the knight’s outstretched arm, twisted it sharply backward, and forced him to his knees. The sword in Barton’s hand clattered to the ground as pain surged through his arm.

"You—!"

Barton snarled, but his voice faltered when he looked up. Kyle’s expression wasn’t mocking or triumphant. It was simply... calm. Steady. Inevitable.

Kyle leaned in slightly.

"You’re wondering where your people are. Why they haven’t come crashing through my barriers. Why you’re kneeling alone."

Barton’s eyes scanned the tree line in growing panic. Still, no one came. No loyal knight, no caster, no divine force.

"They’re not coming. The barrier I set up has ensured your isolation. My people are dealing with your intruders as we speak. You’re surrounded. You just don’t know it yet."

Kyle said simply.

A low growl rumbled from Barton’s throat.

"I am a messenger of divine light! The heavens will—!"

"—do nothing. Because they’ve already discarded you."

Kyle interrupted, tone flat.

Barton flinched.

"I know the pattern. The divine empowers you when you’re useful. Promises glory. Salvation. Power. But the moment you’re on the losing side..."

Kyle continued, letting go of the knight’s arm with a final twist that made Barton stumble backward onto the ground.

He gestured toward the empty sky.

"They vanish."

"Lies!"

Barton snarled, dragging himself upright, eyes wild.

"You speak heresy!"

"Do I?"

Kyle tilted his head.

"Then call upon your guardian again. Ask your god to strike me down. Ask them to save you."

Barton staggered back, clutching his pendant. His voice trembled as he uttered the sacred words,

"In the name of the divine light, I call upon thee. Deliver me from darkness! Grant me your grace—!"

Nothing happened.

The air was still. There was no golden light. No warmth. No divine whisper. Only silence.

Barton looked down at the symbol in his hand and then back at Kyle—panic blooming in his eyes like wildfire.

"No... No, this can’t be..."

Kyle stepped forward, voice low.

"You already feel it, don’t you? The absence. The hollowness. You were a weapon. And now you’re dull. They’ve moved on."

Barton collapsed to his knees again, his shoulders shaking.

"I... served them faithfully..."

Kyle’s gaze remained cool.

"That was your mistake."

A few moments passed before Barton raised his head again, hate replacing despair.

"You... you’re the reason. You poisoned them against me."

"No. They never needed a reason. You were always going to be discarded eventually. That’s how they work."

Kyle replied.

Barton gritted his teeth. His entire body shook, not with fear, but fury—blinding, helpless fury.

"Then I will tear this place apart with my own hands if I must!"

Kyle tilted his head.

"You’re welcome to try. But you won’t leave this place alive if you do."

For a moment, Barton stared at Kyle, weighing his chances. But the knight could see the truth behind the calm in Kyle’s eyes—cold certainty, not bravado.

The fight was already over. It had ended the moment Barton stepped into the village thinking he was in control.

Kyle turned his back and started walking away.

"Bind him."

He called out.

In response, hidden guards from the shadows emerged—silent, efficient, and prepared. Barton screamed and reached for his sword, but it was already too late.

Steel met skin. His arms were seized and forced behind his back, and within seconds, he was bound with enchanted rope that suppressed mana.

Still, he thrashed.

"You think this is the end? I am a knight of Okla! My people will come for me!"

Kyle didn’t even turn around.

"Then let them try. I’ll bury them the same way I buried your hope."

And with that, Sir Barton was dragged away—his screams echoing through the empty air, unheard by any god.

______

Sir Barton was dragged through the corridors of Kyle’s estate, his once-proud figure now slouched and bound in enchanted rope that glowed faintly with suppression runes.

The guards didn’t speak to him, and Barton, though defiant at first, now wore a scowl of silent rage.

When they finally reached the temporary prison chamber in the lower levels, they shoved him into a cell and locked the door with a clank of heavy iron.

Melissa stood nearby, arms crossed and eyes cold.

"We should just kill him. Leaving him alive could be a mistake. He’s dangerous—and too proud to break easily."

She said bluntly, glancing at Kyle.

Kyle looked at her, then shook his head.

"Not yet. Dead men don’t speak. A living symbol of a failed divine knight? That’s worth more. Especially once the war begins."

He turned his gaze toward Barton’s cell.

"He’ll be an example."

Melissa didn’t argue, but she didn’t look satisfied either. She gave Barton a final glare and turned away.

"Bruce, take Sasha with you and make sure he’s secured properly. Use the runes. Don’t leave anything to chance."

Kyle said calmly,

Bruce nodded.

"Understood, young master."

Sasha appeared at Bruce’s side moments later, her brows furrowed in concentration as she clutched a small satchel filled with rune stones and binding charms.

"I’ll do my part."

She said quietly.

The two of them entered the prison chamber, and Sasha stepped forward first. She placed a few of the rune stones on the ground, her fingers glowing with mana as she activated them.

The runes began to hover and hum with energy, ready to latch onto Barton’s form.

But as she brought one toward him, a pulse of resistance pushed her back. The rune fizzled and cracked, unable to cling to Barton’s skin.

Sasha frowned and tried again, this time using more mana—but the divine aura clinging to Barton was thick, dense, and unmoving.

Every time she tried to plant a seal, the holy energy repelled it like oil to water.

She stepped back, biting her lip in frustration.

"It’s no good. His divine aura... it’s still strong. I can’t get the runes to bind him."

Bruce raised a brow.

"Even after being abandoned?"

Sasha looked down.

"It’s residual. Like leftover grease in a pan. It’s not active, but it’s still strong enough to interfere."

"Can you break through it?"

Bruce asked.

Sasha hesitated, then shook her head.

"Not yet. Maybe with time... or if it fades on its own."

Outside the bars, Sir Barton chuckled under his breath, amused at their failure.

But Bruce only turned and said.

"Report this to the young master. He’ll know what to do."