Chapter 73. A Polite Man Who Swallowed My Magic Like It Was Nothing

Chapter 73: 73. A Polite Man Who Swallowed My Magic Like It Was Nothing

Eveline hit the river at a dead run, and the water flew up on both sides of her in white sheets.

She crossed the whole ford in about four strides, so fast that her boots barely seemed to touch the surface, and she came out on the far bank like a thrown stone.

The man in the robe turned... startled and raised the rod to strike.

But... She put her boot in the center of his chest.

He flew backward off the rock and landed in the shallows with a crash. The brass rod spun away from his hand.

Eveline stepped on it. There was a thin, high crack, and the crystal shattered into a hundred glittering pieces.

Every monster on the shore stopped.

All of them, at once.

The wolves skidded to a halt.

The boar stood swaying in the shallows.

A pair of ravening beasts that had been about to tear into Alicia’s shield wall simply froze, stared at each other, and let out a long, confused whine... like dogs who’d been woken from a dream.

Then they turned tail and bolted for the forest, howling.

Laura cut down the last two that wouldn’t leave. Then she lowered her sword and stood quietly in the river, breathing hard, with the water rippling around her thighs.

I looked across the battlefield at Eveline. She was standing on the far bank with one foot on the broken rod, staring down at her own hands as though she’d never seen them before.

She didn’t smile. And she didn’t look triumphant.

Her eyes drifted slowly up the slope, toward Sharon, who was standing with one hand pressed to her shoulder and a deeply irritable expression on her face.

I didn’t call out... I just nodded to her, once, across the distance.

She saw it. And I was happy just to see a little of the color come back to her cheeks.

’That was her,’ I thought. ’That was the real SSS-rank Knight...’

Then the air changed.

I felt it before I saw it.

It was a pressure on my skin, like the moment before a storm breaks.

The wind dropped. And the noise of the battle seemed to fade, as if someone had drawn a curtain across it.

The water around Laura’s legs went perfectly still, and every hair on my arms stood on end.

A figure dropped off the cliff on the far side of the river.

He came down in three great bounds.

The first took him from the ledge to a jutting shelf of rock, the second carried him to the foot of the cliff, and the third launched him straight out over the water in a long, slow, impossible arc.

His cloak spread behind him like a pair of black wings. He came down in the middle of the road with a crash that cracked the stones, and he straightened up without any hurry at all.

He was taller than I’d thought. His armor was plain and black and unadorned, polished to a dull gleam, with no crest or insignia except a single pale mark on his left pauldron, a ring with a jagged edge.

His helmet covered his face entirely, a smooth black dome with a thin horizontal slit for the eyes.

At his side, he carried a long, straight sword whose point glowed with a faint blue light.

And in the center of his chest... set into the breastplate like a second heart, sat a crystal.

It was enormous. Like the size of a man’s head, a deep, throbbing blue that seemed to shift and swirl inside, like ink dropped into water.

As I watched, it dimmed, darkened, and then pulsed back to brightness, and the pulse went out in a slow ripple that I felt in my teeth.

It wasn’t like the little chips in the arrows. And it wasn’t even like the crystal Garrick had worn.

But it was... something far more refined, and far more dangerous.

I recognized the way he stood. I’d seen it on the cliff.

"Sir Ravenshield," said Dray Corvane.

His voice was quiet, courteous, and perfectly level. It had a faint metallic echo from inside the helm, but there was no malice in it, not even a cruelty, and like... nothing at all that you could point to and say, ’That’s evil.’

He sounded like a man who’d been sent to deliver a parcel.

"I’m sorry for the inconvenience," he went on. "I know this is a bad time."

"But if you would be so kind as to step aside from the prisoner... I’ll finish my business and be on my way."

I’d walked down to meet him without noticing.

I was standing on the road, about twenty paces away, with the Kingsteel sword in my hand and a pit in my stomach.

The camp had gone quiet behind me. And I could feel the others watching.

"That’s funny... with the way you said all of that," I said. "I don’t love being asked politely by someone who just shot at me."

"I understand."

"You also shot my prisoner... what a cheap trick."

"I did, yes... I regret the necessity."

"You’ve got a very strange idea of regret."

He tilted his head, and the light slid along the dome of his helmet. "You’re quite funny as well, aren’t you...? Well... They said you would be."

"Who’s they...?"

"I’m afraid I can’t discuss that."

I let out a breath, and my ribs gave a stab of pain. The panel opened in front of my eyes, glowing coldly against the dark.

[Hostile Presence Confirmed.]

[Threat Level: S-]

[Crystal Absorption: Advanced.]

[Warning: Do not engage with Aether-based attacks.]

[Current Lust: 62%.]

’Sixty-two,’ I thought. ’That’s where I am... fucking great.’

I’d already used a lot of it, keeping Garrick stable and running from one side of the camp to the other, and I’d barely thrown a punch.

I lifted my sword.

"You’re not taking him," I said.

"I’m afraid I will."

"We’ll see about that."

He sighed, a sound of mild regret, and then he moved.

I attacked first, because there wasn’t any point in waiting.

I called up everything I had. I let Knight’s Sovereignty flood my limbs with strength, speed, and reflexes.

I opened Combat Instinct wide, and the world turned to a clear gold map in my head, every movement, every angle, every opening laid out like a diagram.

I put a careful thread of Aether into the sword, the way Sharon had taught me, a slender line of light that traced the edge of the blade.

Then I closed the gap in two strides and swung.

The kingsteel cut a bright arc through the dark.

Corvane lifted his sword and met it with a tiny, economical motion. There was no clash, no scream of steel.

His blade simply touched mine, and the gentle blue pulse in his chest brightened for a heartbeat, and the Aether on my sword vanished.

It didn’t shatter. And it didn’t explode either.

It was just... gone, as if it had been poured into a hole.

My blade struck his, and it was only steel. He held it for a split second, with a motion so slight that I barely felt it, and flicked it aside.

I stumbled forward, off-balance. He didn’t take advantage of it, which was somehow worse.

He simply stepped back and waited.

’All right,’ I thought. ’So that’s what you do.’

I went in again. A feint to the left, a cut to the right, a reverse stroke from below.

Each time, I let a little Aether flow into the blade, and each time his chest pulsed and my power drained away like water through a sieve.

His sword moved lazily from one parry to the next. And he wasn’t even breathing hard.

"You’re quick," he said, in an approving voice. "And I have to say... that’s a very nice sword."

"And you’ve got good instincts as well."

"Thanks... I’ll put it on my resume for my next kingdom!"

"But you should know that I’ve fought a great many people with abilities like yours... It never ends well for them."

He lunged.

It was a short, flat thrust, almost casual, and I’d have blocked it easily if I hadn’t been watching the wrong thing.

Combat Instinct showed me his blade, and I got my sword up in time. But as the points crossed, he swiveled his wrist, and the tip of his sword slid along the outside of my blade, over my guard, and nicked the left side of my ribs.

It was barely a scratch.

The edge of the point sliced through my shirt and grazed the skin. But it landed exactly on the cracked rib that had been plaguing me for a week, and the pain that shot through me was blinding.

"Nrrrggghhhhh...!" I gasped.

My knees instantly buckled. I threw myself into a backward roll, tumbled across the gravel, and came up on one knee, wheezing, with my eyes streaming and my hand pressed to my side.

’Fuck,’ I thought, with great clarity. ’Fuck, fuck, fuck...!!! He’s targeting my weak point...!’

"That was unkind of me," Corvane said. "I’m sorry... I didn’t intend for it to land there."

"Yes... you fucking did." I said with a pissed look.

He just laughed. "Yes..."

"I did."