Chapter 487 269: Little Bread

The ladies screamed just as before, probably out of concern for her, but to be honest, it was quite noisy.

The only thought in her mind was, 'Am I going to die just like this?'

A crisp sound echoed, like the call of some unnamable bird at dawn.

Claire stared blankly as an arrow from the side knocked away the one aimed straight for her face.

She whipped her head around to see that unremarkable Attendant lowering his hand.

A Griffin Knight rushed over. "Miss Claire, it's dangerous here. Hurry and leave. I'll carry Anjelo."

'So his name is Anjelo,' Claire thought to herself, looking at the unconscious Griffin Knight on the ground.

Meanwhile, the battle in the center of the auction house continued.

As the Red-armored Knight's Spiritual Power depleted, the Griffin Feathers he had summoned slowed down, and the area they covered grew smaller.

But the Attendant within the strike zone was like a robot with infinite energy, showing no signs of fatigue at all. His sword swings were unwavering, as clean and efficient as ever.

The Spiritual Power enveloping his sword showed no sign of diminishing. He just swung his sword, again and again. Each swing cut down one, sometimes even three or four, feather arrows. He took a steady step forward, giving the impression of a mountain farmer clearing thorns from a path with a hatchet.

By the time all the Silver Flowers were cut down, the mysterious Attendant was standing right in front of the Red-armored Knight.

The Red-armored Knight's suddenly rigid expression made it clear he hadn't anticipated this outcome. He awkwardly raised his sword to parry, but the Attendant kicked him squarely in the chest.

He let out a muffled grunt, suddenly understanding why people who get kicked in the chest go flying. It felt just like he had been hit by a high-speed train.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. The Red-armored Knight conservatively guessed he had at least a few broken ribs, because he had heard the distinct sound of bone cracking.

You have to understand, he was a Black Iron Knight on the verge of becoming Bronze! His bones had long been fortified to the point they could be used as aerospace materials to be welded in support of Britain's national defense, yet he couldn't even withstand a single kick from the Attendant before him!

As he parried the Attendant's ensuing slashes, he said, "You are definitely not Black Iron Tier... Who are you?"

Elder Pence had ordered him to find an opportunity to capture this Attendant. At first, he'd thought it was because of the conflict between their two parties before the auction started that had made them target the Attendant. But judging from the power he was now displaying, he finally understood why Elder Pence had said to kill him on the spot if necessary.

Baron didn't speak. 'They wouldn't listen when I wanted to explain, but now that we're in the middle of a real fight, they start muttering...' He felt the Spiritual Power flowing through his body and knew he couldn't waste any more time here.

This Spiritual Power and strength all stemmed from his Blood Faction. The successive battles, the blood, and the Blood God's recent Divine Descent had likely stimulated his bloodthirsty instincts.

Ever since he started fighting this group of Contract Knights, his heart had been pounding like a roaring eight-cylinder engine. Blood raced through his veins, and his entire body felt like an inflating balloon, swelling with power.

In fact, when the fight first started, he thought he would have to expose his identity as a Dragon Knight. He wasn't confident he could fight so many Contract Knights at once by relying on technique alone, without using his signature Spear Sword.

But this power surging from within his body prevented him from using his Dragon Knight's Authority. Yes, *prevented*.

The feeling was incredibly unpleasant. To use a crude analogy, it was like someone else holding the joystick during a plane's takeoff.

He understood this might be the precursor to the promotion the Shepherdess had spoken of, but honestly, Baron really didn't want to initiate the so-called Blood Faction promotion under these circumstances. It wasn't just the risk; he also felt that his Time was running out.

He had to reach the ruins of the Dragon Family before he Promoted. A rough idea for a plan he could implement had already taken shape in his mind.

He had no choice but to endure this unpleasant sensation, relying on the combat techniques he learned from the Shepherdess and his body's innate battle instincts to fight the Contract Knights.

And he, in turn, took advantage of the endless Spiritual Power surging from his body due to the promotion, using it to enhance his combat abilities.

Although he couldn't use his Authority, basic functions like absorbing and channeling Spiritual Power were fortunately still fine.

Baron looked at the Red-armored Knight desperately parrying his attacks, his gaze hardening. 'To ensure my plan proceeds smoothly, I have to take him down without exposing my identity.'

Just then, Aile Lancelot, a Lion-eyed Knight who had been notified while on patrol, arrived with his companions and fellow Lion-eyed Knights. After briefly questioning the guests, he got the general gist of what had happened.

The Red-armored Knight, who was single-handedly parrying Baron's attacks, shouted for him to provide support, but Aile hesitated. This Attendant belonged to Freya, and he had always been rather afraid of her.

Besides, from the bits and pieces he heard from the surrounding guests, he had more or less pieced together the real story. After examining the body, he had to admit that the circumstances of Mr. Hamilton's Attendant's death were suspicious—most likely the work of the Griffin Knight Order.

The Red-armored Knight could barely withstand Baron's flurry of slashes. The attacks were almost ceaseless, reminding him of the raging waves of the Atlantic Ocean, and he was merely a reef being battered by them.