Yuri had fought through wars and taken countless lives, but all of them had been orcs.
So, this could be considered the first time he had killed a human in this life.
However, he felt no emotional disturbance.
In his previous life, he had built mountains of corpses fighting against the Empire.
He knew well that if you didn't kill, you would be killed, and he had long since abandoned any excuse.
If someone blocked his path, he would simply cut them down.
On the other hand, the black-clad attackers, unaware of Yuri's past, were visibly shaken.
"..."
According to their investigation, the third prince of Briol had never killed a human before.
So they assumed he would hesitate when facing people.
It was a misjudgment.
Killing just one or two people couldn't turn someone into that.
Either the third prince had already killed many people without their knowledge, or he was simply a natural-born psychopath.
The leader of the black-clad group spoke.
"Nothing changes. Stay calm."
Normally, silence was the iron rule, but he spoke out deliberately to steady his men.
It seemed he would have to step in personally.
"I'll go first. Stay calm."
Though the third prince's actions were unexpected, he didn't feel greatly threatened.
He had confidence in himself.
Ever since being taken in by a noble figure at the Imperial Palace, he had trained solely for the purpose of killing humans.
The subordinates who came with him were no different.
He recalled the report he had received just before the assault.
According to the data, the majority of the third prince's military achievements were likely thanks to knights named Laurent and Raymond.
He agreed with that view.
There was no way a boy not even twenty could have fought orcs like that.
So, wasn't it because he feared exposure that he didn't participate in the tournament?
"Attack."
The leader gave a hand signal and charged forward.
The third prince stood still, letting his sword hang loosely.
First, the leader swung his sword dazzlingly. In the chaotic afterimages of the blade, the third prince wouldn't be able to spot the real one.
In sync with him, the rest of the squad surrounded the prince, looking for an opening.
It was then.
The leader suddenly felt a breeze brush his cheek.
At first, he didn't pay it much attention, but the wind kept growing stronger.
His robe flapped wildly.
Soon, he realized a whirlwind had formed around the third prince.
That current was sucking everything in like a black hole.
"...!"
He was briefly startled but responded calmly. Instead of resisting the flow, he used the pull to approach the third prince and prepared to stab.
However, the moment he clashed with the core of the whirlwind—
His clothes were shredded to bits.
He screamed instinctively.
"Do not approach!"
But it was too late.
One member of the squad entered the vortex and was flung out like a rag.
His lower body had been completely sucked in and pulped, while only his upper torso remained, dragging itself on the ground with intestines spilling out, before finally dying.
Even the leader paused for a moment at the horrifying sight.
"What's wrong with you all?"
The third prince approached, calm and composed.
Around the sword resting on his shoulder, sword aura swirled as if alive.
This was no mere wind.
It was a storm of sword aura composed of mana.
He muttered unknowingly.
"Unbelievable..."
The vortex was made of small whirlwinds, and those whirlwinds were composed of even smaller ones.
They interlocked like gears, sometimes spinning in the same direction, sometimes opposing each other, cycling through harmony and discord.
In that process, the destructive power multiplied exponentially.
Anything that entered the whirlwind was torn to shreds.
It was astonishing.
The prince's show of power defied all their expectations.
"Stand by."
He ordered the others to pull back and began closely observing the third prince.
Sweat was trickling down the prince's cheek.
Was he fatigued?
It was unexpected, but that was fine.
A technique that destructive would surely strain its user as well.
If it came down to a war of attrition, there was no chance. That's probably why he had gambled on unleashing his strongest technique.
Not bad.
It was a clever tactic meant to intimidate the enemy with exaggerated power.
Strong and smart.
Perhaps the feats he displayed in the Allied Army weren't fabrications after all.
But that was the limit.
He was still under twenty. He simply lacked the time to have reached a level where he could stand against them.
The leader stepped forward again and signaled with his hand. The others followed cautiously.
Once again, that fearsome vortex spread outward.
He feinted a forward move, then pulled back at the last second.
In doing so, he made the prince expend more mana.
Soon, the third prince began to weaken, stepping backward. Eventually, the tip of his sword drooped slightly.
"Now."
As he gave the signal, the waiting members around him moved in sync, surrounding the prince and his guard.
The hunt had begun.
Hunting a fatigued opponent was easy.
He gave another hand signal to initiate the—Wheel Formation.
It was a tactic using numbers, rotating members in and out to exhaust the enemy until they inevitably collapsed.
Yuri and his guard stood back-to-back. Their voices were heard.
"Hey, do well."
"Be careful."
Perhaps they were forcing themselves to stay calm—there was no obvious emotional agitation.
The leader smiled faintly.
Their loyalty directly served the Empire's interests.
Killing such a clever prince would ultimately benefit the Empire's future.
Even if the king of Briol flew into a rage, it wouldn't matter.
No one could rival the number of the Empire's ten strongest.
"For his sake alone…"
At his command, the members began attacking in rotation.
The third prince and his guard didn't fall easily. They defended well with every strike and occasionally counterattacked, even killing a few members.
But the advantage in numbers was overwhelming.
Each turn of the death wheel pushed the third prince closer to doom. By the time the wheel stopped, the two of them would be corpses on the ground.
The leader didn't rush.
***
Yuri dispersed the Whirling Vortex, then fought the black-clad attackers charging at him, while glancing sideways at their leader.
He didn't like the look in that man's eyes behind the mask.
It was as if he found Yuri's efforts impressive in a condescending way.
"Hey, Jared."
"Yes."
"Do as I told you."
"Understood."
After a brief whisper, Jared slashed the leg of one of the approaching attackers.
Trained as an assassin, the man didn't even groan. Instead, he forced Yuri back with a sword strike, then rejoined the rotating wheel formation.
A new black-clad attacker came at Yuri.
He was tricky.
There was a clear intent to leverage their numerical advantage, slowly but surely pressing down to kill.
They had already killed five. That left fifteen.
"When are you going to make your move?"
"Right now!"
Jared grunted as he drove his sword into the heart of one of the black-clad attackers.
But he had thrust it too deep.
While he was pulling the sword out, another black-clad figure rushed in, putting him in danger.
Yuri stepped in and saved him.
Jared whispered,
"Hah, my acting's not bad, right?"
"You almost actually died."
"No, that was acting too."
He was right.
They were acting.
As if barely holding on after a difficult battle, they responded defensively, occasionally killing one or slashing an enemy's leg.
There was only one reason.
To prevent anyone from escaping.
If they crushed them outright from the start, some might try to flee. That's why they deliberately appeared to be struggling, to make the enemy commit fully.
And the tactic had worked beautifully.
Just the unpleasant gleam in that leader bastard's eyes was enough to read his thoughts.
At first, it was, "Just an exaggerated reputation. He's just a kid."
After the first clash, it became, "Better than I thought. But he must have strained himself using that technique."
Now it was, "He's getting exhausted. If we keep pushing, victory is ours."
Yuri was reading him almost like a mind reader.
"Huff, huff…"
He exaggerated his breathing as he dodged the blade of an approaching attacker.
The tip of Guilty slithered up his arm like a snake, then stabbed and sliced through the enemy's throat.
In that artistic stroke, the leader and his men widened their eyes, and Yuri let out a loud cough.
"Cough, cough!"
Pretending his meridians had been damaged from overexertion, he made sounds like he was spitting blood.
He didn't want to bite his tongue and spit real blood, but this should sell the act well enough.
As expected, the black-clad men regained their smug expressions and charged at him again.
Simpletons.
They must have had some training, but they fell short of being proper assassins.
"Hey, scared? Then get lost!"
Yuri shouted, and the black-clad figures charged again with renewed ferocity.
Yuri kept defending and occasionally counterattacked, always aiming for the legs. Gradually, the wheel formation began to slow down.
Yuri quietly asked Jared, who stood behind him,
"How's your condition?"
"I'm fresh."
"Keep acting until that bastard catches on."
"Yes, understood."
As time passed, the leader began to sense something was off.
By now, the third prince and his guard should be exhausted. Yet they staggered but did not fall, and sometimes made absurd counterattacks that picked off their members one by one.
Their numbers had already dropped below half.
Even those still alive were all limping.
As he was thinking this, he flinched and checked on the members.
"Uh…"
He was the only one who still had mobility.
Realizing what that meant, he shouted,
"No way, this is—!"
"Just now figuring it out?"
As soon as the leader shouted, Yuri straightened his back and charged toward the formation.
Two attackers responded with counterattacks, but Yuri swung Guilty and cut them down.
One died, the other dodged.
But the one who survived had a leg wound and could only crawl along the ground.
Yuri turned to the flustered leader and grinned.
"Would've been tiring if you all ran."
"Unbelievable…"
"Now it's your turn to be surprised and run, right?"
"Kh…"
I shouldn't stay here.
His instincts screamed at him.
Yuri Briol, the third prince of Briol, was more of a monster than he had imagined.
Not just his swordsmanship, but also his cunning and the ability to execute such a scheme—he exceeded expectations in every way.
Feigning weakness, then patiently waiting until they lost mobility.
Who in the world would think to do something like that?
Now, the only thought running through the leader's head was that he had to warn his master as soon as possible.
He immediately turned to flee from Yuri.
But after only a few steps, something sharp pierced his calf.
"Uaaaagh…!"
He tumbled to the ground.
His face slammed into a stone, teeth cracked, and blood splattered.
"Urgh…"
As he fumbled at his leg, he found a dagger embedded in it.
While he lay on the ground, screams rang out from behind him.
"Aaah…"
It was they who had been drained by the wheel formation.
At this rate, they would all be slaughtered.
Fear crept into his eyes.
"Hey."
At last, the surroundings quieted, and only the footsteps of the third prince could be heard.
"Let's make this easy."
Yuri sat beside him and pulled off his blood-soaked mask.
"Ugh…"
When teeth dropped from the leader's mouth with a plop plop, Yuri looked startled.
"Ah, that's rough. Hey."
"..."
"I know a guy who's really good at putting those back in…"
"..."
"Anyway, you don't want to be tortured, right? You'll die even if you go back like this."
"..."
"Just tell me who sent you, and I'll let you live."
"..."
"Let's keep it civil, okay? I'm not someone who enjoys bloodshed."
Yuri pulled the Wind Ring Blade from the man's calf. The leader only clenched his teeth and endured the pain without a sound, his leg twitching.
"Wow, not making a sound? That's manly."
Yuri patted him on the shoulder.
"Nice. You've got guts, my dark friend. Let's at least exchange names. What's yours?"
"..."
"Ah man, now I'm just talking to myself again…"
"..."
"You really not gonna answer me?"
"..."
"Hmm…"
Yuri twirled the Wind Ring Blade in a smooth arc.
Then, he slashed it across the man's eye.
With the sudden cut, his eyeball burst.
The man writhed on the ground, clutching his eye.
"Argh! My eye!"
Yuri smiled brightly.
"Oh, now you talk."