In the era when radios and telephones have been distributed, a crystal ball might seem outdated, but the fact that it is “untraceable” still gives it some utility. The crystal ball, known as the “Thousand-Mile Eye,” which the Prince and the Administrative Director are observing, serves a similar purpose.
“What would you like to do, Your Highness?” Rad asked, opening his mouth while chewing on some nuts he’d gotten from somewhere. Watching Deathwish being lynched by several knights in this manner surely says a lot about this man’s character.
Inside the crystal ball, Aiden was stepping forward, with Katia standing behind him.
“I didn’t expect even the fiancé of Lionheart to intervene. The situation has become troublesome.” Despite describing the situation as difficult, his tone was filled with an air of ease.
The Prince, resting his chin on his hand and watching the scene, looked at him with a tilted gaze. “You sound as if you expected this.”
“No, the situation itself is unexpected,” Rad responded, leaning back in his chair with ease. “I thought at least half of the dispatched men would die at Deathwish’s hands. The resistance is far weaker than anticipated.”
“……”
“For a political attack to be possible, there must be a legitimate cause, but this is a complete failure. Even I didn’t expect this,” he added.
The Prince’s eyes narrowed. The “death” he mentioned refers to the group of knights who were collectively attacking Katia. The fact that he sounded deeply disappointed that no casualties occurred suggests he anticipated this from the start.
“You’re more of a viper than a strategist, Rad.”
“Thank you for the compliment, but no matter how brilliant a strategist is, the final decision is not mine.” Rad smiled faintly as he continued, “The decision is yours, Your Highness. I merely offer methods.”
“So, tell me. What do you plan to do about the fiancé of Lionheart?”
“I suggest we strike.”
The Prince stared at him with an incredulous expression. “If it’s the fiancé himself, things could get out of hand if things go wrong.”
“Is that so?”
“Didn’t you analyze it yourself? While the man’s skill with special abilities is bizarrely advanced, his combat skills are barely at a beginner’s level—pathetic, even.”
And if he’s up against several knights, it’s too excessive to send such overwhelming forces, even as a joke.
“As long as he doesn’t get severely injured, it should be fine. I doubt he’ll be defeated so easily.”
“On what basis?”
“The plan was crafted using a rare object like the Sealing Rod, but it was entirely disrupted because of that man,” Rad said, shrugging.
Without a doubt, the reason for Deathwish’s sudden shift toward leniency was likely due to this man. He even used a rare ability, a spell, to avoid leaving any traceable pursuers, yet here he was, pursuing them alone.
Both of the core reasons why Rad’s plan was derailed stemmed from that man. It’s certain.
This person is hiding something beyond what meets the eye.
“……… Are you saying he could hinder the great cause to the point of becoming a threat?”
“Not at that stage yet,” Rad concluded firmly. “In my opinion, that man is a con artist.”
Rad’s analysis of Aiden Kellerman amounted to just that.
An ordinary man, striving to remain ordinary, who’s never done anything dangerous. A lucky commoner who somehow ended up in that seat, despite rarely getting caught up in fights.
“Then that doesn’t make sense. Why are you so concerned about a mere con artist?”
“Because it’s highly likely we’ll need to be concerned in the future.”
As he said this, Rad’s blue, glossy gaze remained fixed on Aiden inside the crystal ball.
“…For someone who’s lived a mundane life, he seems to wield an ‘excessive’ amount of power,” he added. The azure light in his irises swept across Aiden’s face.
“He can’t possibly win against multiple knights, but… he might put up an interesting fight, right?”
“-You want me to fight him?”
Levant confirmed the command with bewilderment through the communication channel. He understood the immense risk of directly attacking Lionheart’s fiancé, even if striking their associates might be manageable. He was already aware of the intelligence—of the opponent’s capabilities.
‘Indeed,’ he thought.
Aiden was a multi-talented user of various supernatural abilities, a threatening and powerful characteristic. The energy radiating from him right now was intensely strong.
However…
‘His combat experience is minimal.’
During the previous interaction with the tribal alliance, information about Aiden’s combat performance had already been leaked. Though he wielded mysterious power, his control was notably crude—an assessment anyone with refined combat skills would agree on.
Considering that…
“I don’t intend to kill you, so don’t resist unnecessarily,” Levant said, pulling a bead-shaped artifact from his cloak and smashing it immediately.
Translucent waves spread in all directions, and all the supernatural energies within its range noticeably weakened. This included the knights’ aura, Katia’s divine energy, and all types of abilities Aiden was emitting.
Aiden’s eyes narrowed. His combat style relied heavily on high-output supernatural energy. Even though the power hadn’t entirely vanished, the reduced strength was a significant penalty. In contrast, the knights’ auras diminished slightly, but their honed combat skills remained intact. While the artifact was likely meant to target Katia, its effects applied equally to Aiden.
“There’s no good outcome for either of us if we fight. Stay put.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. As I said, I don’t intend to kill you,” Levant replied calmly. “Just a good beating and sending you away will suffice. If you have any sense, you wouldn’t charge at this many knights when your greatest strength has been curtailed.”
“Give up the notion that the status of Lionheart’s fiancé guarantees your safety. We officially don’t exist right now. Everything happening here will be considered non-existent.”
“Quite a talker for someone attacking an unarmed man in a group.”
“It’s a necessary act.”
“Of course it is,” Aiden responded. Drawing his sword, he continued, “Then it’s only necessary for me to do the same to you, right?”
The moment he said this, Katia, who had been sitting quietly behind, widened her eyes.
“Wait, you can’t—!”
“It’s alright.”
The usual relaxed and gentle demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was firmness—a fury, even. It was the kind of rage driven by the determination to at least crush these attackers here and now.
“Why do you think I trained, endured hardships, and gathered strength?”
It was clear when you thought about it. While he’d been accumulating power, growing, and copying skills for the main quest, the fundamental reason for his strength was simple.
“To beat down scum like you,” Aiden declared, his voice filled with resolve.
No matter who the opponent was, what their backing or motives were, it was all for protecting his family, friends, and loved ones within his ‘circle.’
“What’s the point of having friends if you can’t use them?” he asked.
“…What…?”
“Sometimes, you should let others handle things.”
While Katia’s eyes widened again, Levant let out a scoff of disbelief, confident that Aiden couldn’t possibly be a match. He gestured toward the nearest knight.
“-You know the drill. Don’t kill him.”
Without his supernatural abilities, he’s as good as dead. No need to be tense; just subdue him properly, and that’ll be the end of it.
“All of you, get him.”
The nearby knights casually drew their swords, clearly feeling that deploying this much force against someone like Aiden was overkill.
Then, all at once, the knights lunged forward. The combined force rushed at Aiden like an avalanche roaring down a mountainside.
And then…
“?”
…?
It was around that moment they felt something was off. Anyone would sense it—Aiden was standing completely still, making no attempt to move. He stood there as if rooted to the ground, almost as if he believed he’d be fine regardless of the oncoming assault.
Even without his abilities, a knight who has spent a lifetime honing his combat skills can easily surpass the limits of human speed. Strikes were coming at Aiden from every direction, far too fast for ordinary human eyesight to track.
Yet…
Aiden’s gaze…
The eyes of a man supposedly inexperienced in combat…
Followed the tangled trajectories of all the incoming blades perfectly.
“……!”
Goosebumps rose all over Levant’s body.
Soon after…
“You said everything that happens here ‘doesn’t exist,’ right? So in turn—”
He paused briefly.
“It doesn’t matter what happens to you, does it?”
In an instant, the knights who had charged at Aiden were sent flying in all directions. Those who had rushed him scattered like paper in the wind, collapsing to the ground.
Silence filled the area as Levant, now sprawled on the ground, blinked dazedly. The physical blow he’d received was significant, but the mental shock was even greater.
‘…What just happened?’
An entire squad of knights was taken down by a single man in an instant—something that could only be explained by an overwhelming difference in capability.
‘This has to be a joke…!’
Grinding his teeth, Levant forced himself back to his feet. Even as a trainee knight, he had never been so thoroughly overpowered. This must have been the result of letting his guard down. If they coordinated their attacks properly, Aiden would have no chance to react.
Or so he thought.
Strangely enough…
“You mentioned earlier that you wouldn’t kill me, right?” Aiden said, standing there with a cold, steady gaze.
For some reason, a sense of certainty seeped into Levant’s thoughts.
“I’ll return the favor. I won’t kill you either.”
“…You’re being overly arrogant.”
“But here’s something I know from experience.”
Aiden murmured, his eyes unfocused. Reliving a terrible memory made his face take on a distant expression, as if losing control of his rationality.
“There are far more situations where getting hurt feels worse than death. It’s something you’d have to experience to understand.”
Mostly in nightmares with Meyer. He’d been beaten to the brink of death so many times that he’d sometimes find himself begging for it to end. In that regard, Aiden was practically an expert.
“So, I’ll give you each a taste. It wouldn’t be fair otherwise.”
As soon as he said that, the knights flinched and retreated. The air seemed to change rapidly.
Watching this unfold, Levant instinctively realized that all the evaluations of Aiden—what he’d heard, seen, and assumed—had to be discarded.
What? Inexperienced in combat? Crude technique?
‘Ridiculous…!’
The figure before them was exuding the deadly aura of a veteran who had crossed the boundary of death countless times. It was an overwhelming pressure, as if he had experienced death ‘directly’ many times before.
“!”
Unable to withstand that pressure, someone leaped forward, reigniting the battle. The Imperial Knights’ tactics relied on coordinated movements, with multiple members acting as a single unit to create a flawless encirclement.
But again…
-!
-!!
As the swords sliced through the air, the encircling knights fell in unison.
“What, what is this?”
“How is he doing this?!”
The technique was so baffling that they forgot they were in the middle of a battle. But the one performing it transitioned to his next move as if nothing unusual had happened.
“I’m serious. If I can’t make an impact here, it wouldn’t be fair.”
Grinding his teeth, Aiden muttered in frustration, swinging his sword again.
In a situation requiring combat skills, the emotion Aiden carried was clear: a desperate desire to prevail. How much suffering had he endured under Meyer’s training? The helplessness, pain, and despair of being unable to escape the agony—no matter what he did.
That’s why…
“Now, you can experience it too…!”
“It’s not fair if I’m the only one suffering…!”
It was a misplaced sense of resentment. As the knights, caught in Aiden’s rage, screamed and fell apart, the Prince and Rad could only stare at the crystal ball, speechless.
“To be honest…”
For once, Rad’s usual smile faded, and he tapped the crystal ball with a lowered voice.
A video of Aiden, wielding his sword with unfocused eyes, continued to play.
However, contrary to Aiden’s somewhat lackluster appearance, the results he produced were enough to leave everyone stunned.
“This is something only a veteran who’s been fighting on the battlefield for at least 10 years could achieve, right? Overwhelming multiple knights all by himself?”
The prince, brimming with talent and experience, massaged his forehead, adding further explanation. Even for a veteran with immense talent and experience, the reality of what was happening seemed questionable.
After all, he himself was considered a “genius” swordsman within the Capital, which allowed him to analyze the situation accurately.
Specifically, he grasped just how absurd this was.
“He’s copying it directly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Aiden is replicating the movements of everyone there.”
Rad fell silent for a moment, unable to fully grasp the meaning of the prince’s words.
“What do you mean by that?”
“The techniques he’s using keep changing constantly, so I can’t be sure, but…” The prince’s tone was disoriented. At that moment, the knights, who had attempted another coordinated attack to bring Aiden down, were scattered like falling leaves.
“His footwork is from the ‘Wind Talker,’ a sword style created by the Storm Knight…”
His steps were as light as a spring breeze, and his body’s twisting motion disrupted the trajectory of every incoming attack.
“His lower stance is ‘Floating Grass,’ commonly used by the Spring Wanderer…”
The gentle shift of his center of gravity combined with the lightness of a spring breeze to create an agile movement.
“The trajectory of his sword is from the ‘Crescent Moon,’ developed by the Assassin of Twilight…”
A simple yet direct slash, known for its rapid and heavy straight-line attack.
“He’s using all of these techniques simultaneously.”
“I understand those are techniques, but what do you mean by ‘copying’?”
“Those are techniques used by the knights themselves.”
“…What?”
“Among the imperial knights, it’s not unusual for each to have different swordsmanship systems. They each establish their own theories, hone their skills in real battles, and blend their experiences to create unique styles.”
So, even with the same techniques, the ways in which they are executed vary greatly from person to person. These techniques, refined through their lives, experiences, and knowledge, could be considered “ultimate moves.”
“And all of those are being stolen—instantly.”
What’s more, Aiden’s movements were identical to the techniques the knights had just used against him. He was analyzing and copying the life’s work of the knights with ease.
It’s inexplicable—no matter what technique he’s using.
The strangest part, however, lay elsewhere. Even with his exceptional combat techniques, it still didn’t fully explain why Aiden was achieving miracles against the knights.
Was Aiden physically stronger? Faster? Superior?
No. While his abilities were slightly enhanced by his supernatural powers, he was still weak in comparison. Even a single knight among those present could handle a truckload of people like Aiden.
So, why were the knights unable to even scratch Aiden, while being utterly defeated by him?
‘…How?’
The prince scanned Aiden’s movements with wide-eyed disbelief.
‘Everything he does is correct.’
In moments where life and death are decided within fractions of a second, Aiden’s judgments were always the ‘right’ ones. He anticipated the direction of sword strikes to dodge them, parried incoming attacks, twisted, counterattacked, and subdued his enemies—always making the most efficient choice, paving the way to victory.
‘-No.’
The prince quickly revised his assessment of Aiden’s intentions.
There was no forward-looking drive toward victory. Instead…
It was far more desperate:
‘Not victory, but survival.’
Aiden Kellerman wasn’t fighting to win; he was fighting to avoid death at all costs. It was as if he had already experienced this before—as if his entire body had learned that this was the only way to survive.
His nerves, muscles, and very soul seemed to remember the ‘pain’ that forced him to move this way.
What kind of past experiences could have led him to approach combat like this?
The prince closed his eyes for a moment, then pressed his temples.
“…Rad.”
“Yes.”
“When you investigated that man, you found nothing, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Investigate him again.”
“There’s no way he’s just an ordinary con artist. He’s probably trained from a young age with bone-crushing and flesh-tearing intensity.”
“I’ve never been wrong in my information gathering.”
“Then this is your first mistake. It’s an order. Start over and dig everything up.”
Now it was Rad’s turn to be silent. As he pondered with a rare serious expression, the prince gazed into the crystal ball with a somber look.
‘Where did this man come from?’
His emotions were too complicated for him to describe.
Cliche Novel 