(3rd Person POV)
Injured. Bleeding. Grieving.
Trench Coat could hardly keep his hand steady. His gaze was locked on the body of Royal Coat lying motionless on the floor.
'I… I killed him...'
The thought tore through him like a second blade. His trembling fingers dug into his coat, trying to hold in both blood and despair.
Mary, still off to the side, couldn't bear to look—but neither could she turn away. It was horrifying. And yet…
She had to see it.
She needed to witness the man she'd so deeply underestimated face down the Great Knights of Wales—and win.
'Just who are you really, Arthur Pendragon? You brought down what was supposed to be an untouchable force… like it was nothing.'
Her curiosity grew as thick as the tension in the room.
Arthur stood calmly, brushing dust from his coat as if he hadn't just stared death in the eye.
"You didn't expect it to turn out like this, did you, Trenchy-kun?" he asked softly, with a sigh that carried a weight of its own. "Life throws unexpected turns. You've helped me understand that today."
Trench Coat grit his teeth, clutching his wounded chest, breath ragged.
"We never intended to kill you!" he shouted, voice raw with emotion. "You could've surrendered—we could've talked! Why did it have to end like this?!"
Arthur tilted his head, eyes narrowing with a humorless smile. "Surrender? Talk?" He scoffed. "Is that how you greet people? With bullets and blades?"
He gestured around the wrecked office. "Tell me—who pulled the trigger from four kilometers out? Who stormed into my space, uninvited, weapons drawn, threats flying?"
His voice hardened. "If you wanted a conversation, you should've started it."
Trench Coat flinched. The words hit harder than any bullet. Because he knew they were true.
Still, something inside him wouldn't let go.
"But… but you killed a Great Knight of Wales—!" he protested, his voice cracking.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, then calmly pointed a finger at him. "Me? Kill him?"
He let the accusation hang for a moment before smirking. "No, no… you did that. Remember?"
His tone turned cold.
"You drove your blade right through your own friend's face. I simply… moved."
Trench Coat's mouth opened, but no words came. He bit his lip hard, blood mixing with guilt on his tongue. There was no defense. No logic. No escape from the truth.
'I stabbed him. I aimed for Arthur… but I killed Royal instead.'
He clenched his eyes shut.
And for the first time… the pride of the Wales Great Knights broke.
Just then, a rapid series of loud bangs rattled the office door. Arthur's gaze shifted.
'That aura... Firfel.'
Outside, panic and worry bled through the space—his keen senses picked up Firfel's presence clearly. She wasn't alone. Employees and security were clustered behind her, trying to force their way in.
Arthur gave a casual smile and glanced back at Trench Coat. "Looks like our little chat's on hold."
He raised a hand lazily.
To Mary's shock, space itself shimmered—like ripples on a pond—and in an instant, both Trench Coat and the body of Royal Coat vanished, along with every drop of blood and shattered glass that once painted the floor.
'What... Where did they go?!' she gasped inwardly.
"Arthur! Arthur!" Firfel's voice rang from beyond the door, thick with fear.
Arthur walked over and opened it calmly.
And there she was—his Firfel—eyes glistening, her breath shaky, lips parted in a gasp the moment she saw him standing unharmed. The tension in her body gave way in an instant, and before he could say a word—
"Waaah!" She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. "I thought... I thought you were hurt!"
Arthur smiled, breathing in the comforting scent of her silver hair, a soft blend of jasmine and her favorite shampoo. He wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her back.
"Hey," he whispered, "I'm right here. I'm fine."
Firfel clung to him. "I came to visit... then I saw the panic outside, and heard the barrier was breached—someone said an assassin got in! I thought the worst..."
He pulled back just enough to hold her shoulders. His tone was calm, reassuring. "And yet, here I stand. Not even a scratch."
Firfel searched his eyes and let out a long, shaky breath. Her lips trembled—but this time in relief. She nodded and gave a small, genuine smile.
"Praise be to the Moon Goddess…"
Behind her, a familiar voice chimed in with a nervous laugh. "Boss... you nearly gave us a heart attack," said Klein, one of the senior employees. "We thought—well—we thought we lost you."
Others murmured their agreement, some offering weak smiles, others still visibly shaken.
Arthur simply nodded at them with a calm smile. "Thank you for your concern, everyone. I'm grateful."
Off to the side, Mary observed in silence. Her eyes drifted between Arthur and Firfel.
'He's completely different…' she thought. 'Facing the Great Knights, he was terrifying—cruel, even. And yet, look at him now… so gentle. So warm.'
She turned her eyes to Firfel, standing in Arthur's arms.
'She's lucky. I can't help but… envy that.'
Firfel glanced around the office—her worried gaze landing on Mary.
"Oh," she said, blinking in mild surprise. She gave a respectful nod. "Princess Mary... I didn't realize you were here. Forgive my manners."
Mary responded with a small wave of her hand. "It's fine. No need for formalities."
She slowly rose from her seat, her eyes drifting to the now-pristine glass windows that, just moments ago, had been riddled with bullet holes. Not a crack remained. Not even a trace of blood on the floor.
Inside, her heart pounded. 'The damage... it's all gone. Erased. Instantly. Not even Forbidden Magic should be able to do that.'
But her face showed nothing. With practiced calm, she nodded at Firfel and the rest of the staff.
"I was just about to take my leave anyway," she said smoothly. "Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Pendragon."
Arthur offered a light nod.
Mary turned on her heels and exited the office with quiet steps.
Once outside, however, her expression changed completely—her face hardened with realization. Her eyes stared ahead, distant and shaken.
'He... he's not just a filmmaker,' she thought, a chill running down her spine.
'With that kind of power—no, that presence—he's not a Supreme Mortal… he's probably already on the level of a Demi-God.'
She swallowed, her throat dry. 'The Great Knights were said to rival Supreme Mortals in strength… and he dismantled them like children. Effortlessly. That means he's not just near the peak… he's past it.'
Her hands trembled slightly. 'And to think… I signed a magical contract with him.' Her heart sank further.
'The stronger the contractor, the more binding the magic. If Arthur truly is a Demi-God… then breaking that contract would be impossible.'
Her mind flashed back to the moment Arthur casually claimed he could remove her father and mother—the King and Queen—if he wanted to.
At the time, she thought he was bluffing. Just arrogant talk.
But now… 'He wasn't bluffing at all… He was being merciful.'
Her pace slowed as the weight of the realization settled in.
'I have to take his demands seriously now. If he wanted to, he could crush our kingdom without lifting a finger.'
And then the final, sobering thought struck her like lightning—
'No. What he showed me just now… that wasn't his full power. That was just a sliver. He's still hiding his true strength.'
She exhaled shakily and clenched her fists.
"Then there's only one option left…" she whispered to herself.
"I have to convince Father to accept Hellfire Bank as the Central Bank."
She closed her eyes for a moment, steadying her breath.
'If he's denied... who knows what he'll do to make it happen.'
---
The evening news crackled to life across major networks, and one particular segment caught the nation's attention:
"Earlier this afternoon, the legendary magic barrier protecting Hellfire Park was shattered. The cause is still unknown. The incident caused a stir throughout the district, with speculation rising that an assassination attempt may have been made against Chairman Arthur Pendragon—"
Inside a luxurious high-rise apartment, Jacy Heart sat lounging on a velvet recliner, swirling wine in his glass while watching the news unfold. His butler, Old Kan, stood nearby, arms behind his back.
Jacy smirked confidently. "Heh. Any minute now, they'll say Arthur's missing. The Great Knights must've gotten him by now."
But the next words on the broadcast slapped that smugness off his face.
"—However, officials have confirmed that there was no assassination attempt. Arthur Pendragon is safe and unharmed. The barrier disruption may have been due to a technical malfunction or an unknown magical fluctuation. Authorities are still investigating."
Jacy and Old Kan exchanged alarmed glances. The blood drained from Jacy's face.
"No… No way!" he gasped. "He's still alive?!"
Old Kan looked just as shaken. "That can't be. The Great Knights promised us. They were supposed to apprehend him quietly—without fail!"
Before they could spiral further, the shadows in the room shifted.
A faint sound—heels clicking against the marble floor.
Jacy and Old Kan turned sharply toward the source, eyes wide. Emerging from the darkness was a striking woman clad in a sleek black suit, her face hidden behind an elegant mask. Behind her were several shadowy figures.
"Who—who the hell are you?!" Jacy demanded, reaching for his communication device.
But it was too late.
The masked woman raised her hand—and everything went black.
Both Jacy and Old Kan collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Sylwen stood above their bodies, her expression unreadable beneath the mask. "Pathetic," she murmured coldly.
With a graceful wave of her hand, her subordinates melted into the shadows, carrying the two men with them. Their bodies disappeared as they slipped into the darkness—using the advanced technique known as «Shadow Travel».
Destination: the Hellfire Intelligence Division's secret interrogation hub.
Sylwen lingered for a second, her eyes narrowing at the TV screen still playing in the background.
"Arthur Pendragon, head of Hellfire, is confirmed safe—"
She smirked.
"Of course."
And then, she vanished.
---
Read advanced chapters on my p-a-treon.com/NewComer714.