Alistair's defense was like a mountain. Riven hacked away for what felt like an eternity, only to find that Alistair was completely unharmed, showing no signs of internal injury. He, on the other hand, was starting to pant from the furious, non-stop assault.
He wasn't an idiot. He was a genius, after all, with exceptional insight. The reason for his failure dawned on him, and humiliation quickly turned to fury.
"Damn you! You dare to mock me? Shattering Cross of Light!"
Riven's eyes turned glacial. With a deep roar, he took a single step back, dodging a wide swing from Alistair. A massive amount of Aura coursed through his body along arcane pathways. A divine hymn seemed to sound around him as the phantom of an angel materialized at his back. The angel, holding a sword of pure light, mirrored Riven's movements as he slashed a cross in the air before him.
The phantom vanished, leaving behind a colossal, cross-shaped blade of light that tore through the air toward Alistair. Empowered by the Aura of Sanctity, the terrifying attack moved with incredible speed. It was on him in an instant. Alistair had no time to dodge; he could only hastily activate his armor's integrated shield and his own Glory Barrier skill.
A massive, golden shield materialized around him before sinking into his body and vanishing from sight. The phantom of a great brass dragon appeared behind him, raising its wings to shield its master.
BOOM—!
The violent shockwave obliterated the surrounding buildings, the force so immense it blasted the players' corpses on the ground into clouds of dust. Alistair's Glory Barrier shattered, but the shield from his Hero-grade armor held firm. Still, the energy in his dragon crystal was finite, and replenishing it would be a hassle.
He now had a clear understanding of their relative strength. With Riven using his power-up, Alistair was slightly outmatched. He could probably kill him by burning through more of his crystal's energy, but his mission wasn't to kill Riven. It was to humiliate him. A prolonged battle of attrition was pointless.
Alistair was done pretending. It was time to call for backup.
"Thorne!"
The old knight heard his master's call. He silently drew his own sword and stepped in front of Alistair, his eyes like those of a savage beast, his entire being radiating a ferocious, murderous intent. He looked exactly as Alistair remembered him from the game in his past life: the unbreachable old guardian, standing firm before the castle gates.
With the old knight's entrance, the tide of battle shifted instantly. The players, who had been watching the drama unfold from the sidelines, exploded.
"HOLY SHIT! HE'S GOT A HEALTH BAR!"
"You've got to be kidding me! Another one?!"
"Blood-red name, skull icon, and a threat level so red it's black… ah yes, the same terrifying recipe."
"I don't know why, but the way that old man is looking at us is making my skin crawl…"
"Two top-tier world bosses on the first day of the game. This is insane."
"I'm using Inspect!"
A moment later, a partial screenshot was posted to the public channel.
[Name: Thorne]
[Identity: Personal Guard of the Earl of Frostfell]
[Power Level: Earth Knight Lv. 49 (41-50)]
[Other: ???]
"Oh my god. Level 49. He's even stronger than the Lord."
"How are we supposed to fight this? We might have a chance against one, but two is a guaranteed wipe."
Riven stared dumbly at Thorne. Wasn't this a one-on-one duel? he thought. Where did this old man come from?
He composed himself and shot a sneer at Alistair. "Is this your idea of a knight's code? You are a disgrace."
Knight's code? What's that? Only a fool would be so rigid, Alistair thought with a dismissive shrug.
"I am a lord first, a count second, and a knight last. Tell me," he said, his voice dripping with contempt, "when have you ever seen a lord or a count who was required to fight his own battles one-on-one? Are you even worthy of such an honor?" He gave a scornful laugh, his logic unassailable.
"Thorne. Beat him."
At the command, Thorne moved. In a flash of lightning, the ghostly figure was upon Riven, his sword a blur of motion. As a veteran Earth Knight who had been on the cusp of ascending to Sky Knight for years, fighting a rookie like Riven was, for him, akin to hunting rabbits in the starting zone.
There was a reason Thorne had once told Alistair during a sparring session that he couldn't get through his Hero-grade armor without using his Aura. The unspoken implication was that if he did use his Aura, he could still effortlessly dominate Alistair, armor or no. As a loyal vassal, the old knight was simply letting his master save face.
Riven was already exhausted from his fight with Alistair. Against Thorne, who was in another league entirely, he was immediately thrown onto the defensive, his aggressive assault reduced to a desperate struggle to parry. Moments later, Thorne had depleted his Aura and kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Thorne planted a heavy boot on his chest. Lord Alistair had not ordered him to kill the man, so he would not be killed.
Alistair sauntered over, a cheerful smile on his face. He grabbed Riven by the hair, yanking his head up from the dirt. He raised his hand and, without using any Aura, swung with all his might, slapping Riven across the face.
SMACK—
"So you're Riven, is that right?"
SMACK—
Another slap, just as hard.
"The one whose name I'm supposed to remember?"
SMACK—
"Going to show me what true power is?"
Riven's face was already swelling into a purpled mess, but he said nothing, only glaring at the smiling Alistair with eyes full of venomous hatred.
"Every dog has its day," Riven repeated silently in his mind. "He who laughs last, laughs best." Endure this.
Alistair saw the look on his face and knew exactly what the little Child of Destiny was thinking. It didn't matter. The two of them were destined to be mortal enemies anyway.
He stood up, clapping the dust from his hands. His blue eyes looked down on Riven, who lay on the ground like a beaten dog.
"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll leave you with your pathetic life. You want revenge? I'll be waiting."
Alistair gave Riven one last, meaningful smile before turning away and signaling to Thorne. They were leaving.
The players who had witnessed the entire spectacle were left in a stunned silence. The plot twists of the day had been so dramatic, their minds were still reeling.
"So… our protagonist is actually an underdog story? I really thought he was on the invincible hero track."
"Is it possible that the protagonist isn't weak, but the enemies are just absurdly strong…?"
"What now? Did we complete the quest?"
"I think so…? The Lord didn't take the beastkin slaves with him."
Just then, a piercing, eerie cry and the powerful beat of wings echoed from the sky. The players looked up.
The Lord of Frostfell, Alistair, and his retainer, Thorne, were each mounted on a gryphon the size of a car, carrying a person as they leisurely flew away from Silversky Town. They could just make out that in Lord Alistair's arms, he held an adorable girl.
The players looked from the magnificent figures in the sky to the bruised and swollen form of Riven, still lying broken on the ground. For a moment, they couldn't quite tell who the real protagonist was supposed to be.