Preceptor?

Tristan was so furious she felt like passing out.

How could this damn man be so tough to deal with!

She glanced at her legs, hesitated for a moment, then ultimately gave up the idea of chopping them off.

If she chopped off her legs, not only would she be unable to wear those pretty shoes anymore, but she also wouldn't be able to escape from him if things didn't go as expected.

"I'd like to see how much you can take!"

Grinding her teeth, Tristan gestured with her hand, and a weapon that resembled a combination of a harp and a bow appeared in her hand.

It was Failnaught, Tristan's Noble Phantasm that required no arrows as a light pluck was enough to cut through enemies like a musical blade, effortlessly decapitating them.

Tristan gently plucked Failnaught's bowstrings and accompanied by a melodious hum, countless black sound blades rained down toward Arkhan like a storm.

Arkhan stood still, and just as the blades were about to hit him, a black circular hole suddenly opened in front of him, swallowing all the blades into it.

At the same time, a strong sense of crisis suddenly enveloped Tristan's heart. A black circular hole opened above her head, and the black sound blades that were swallowed rushed out, raining down on her like a torrent.

"AAAHHHHHH—!!!"

Tristan screamed in agony as razor-sharp sound blades sliced through her, leaving grotesque wounds all over her body. Her once-beautiful swallowtail dress lay torn and tattered, and her beloved weapon in her hand, Failnaught, shattered into pieces.

By the time it was all over, hardly a spot on her body remained unscathed. Her entire body was drenched in blood, looking terrifying and miserable.

At the same time, Arkhan's expression twisted slightly.

Due to the effect of Tristan's Domination, her pain synced with his own, making him feel as if he had been torn apart by a thousand blades.

Arkhan immediately used Fenghuang Down to block his own feeling of pain, and his complexion gradually returned to normal.

*Cough!* *Cough!*

Blood gushed from Tristan's mouth uncontrollably, her breath was feeble, like a flickering flame in a fierce wind.

She never expected this man to still wield the power of spatial manipulation. In the end, she was the one at a disadvantage.

'Unforgivable! Unforgivable! Unforgivable!'

Tristan's face, covered in blood, bore a ferocious and malevolent expression as she stared fiercely at Arkhan, akin to a demon from hell.

"If you want me dead, then don't expect to live either!"

Tristan extended her sharp, crimson nails and ruthlessly plunged them toward her own heart.

"Let's go to hell together!"

However, as her nails were about to pierce her chest, ripples suddenly spread through the void, and a slender, fair hand emerged, firmly gripping hers.

"Preceptor?" Tristan muttered, astonished as if witnessing something unbelievable.

"Come..."

A melodious voice sounded from the void, and with a gentle tug from the slender, fair hand, Tristan disappeared instantly.

Meanwhile, the moment Tristan vanished, Arkhan's arms returned to normal.

Arkhan hesitated for a moment, watching the still swirling void, before ultimately abandoning the idea of following Tristan with Cosmic Juggernaut.

If he guessed correctly, behind that void was likely their base, probably the Holy City of Camelot.

Without knowing the full extent of their strength, charging in blindly wouldn't be a wise decision.

Nevertheless, Arkhan kept a precaution in mind, marking down the spatial coordinates of the location with Cosmic Juggernaut.

Staring at the spot where Tristan had disappeared, Arkhan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Preceptor, huh..."

===

By the time Arkhan returned to the village, the battle between two armies of knights had already concluded.

In front of the Godslayer Knights, Tristan's knights had no power to resist. In just a few moves, they were all taken care of, not a single one left alive.

Arkhan felt no psychological burden about it, since if he hadn't been present in this village, not even one of these villagers would have survived.

In the end, it was just reaping what they sowed.

"You all stay here to protect the villagers. I'll go deal with the rest of those guys outside."

After giving orders to his knights, Arkhan turned to the village chief.

"Notify everyone to pack up and get ready to leave. This place is not safe anymore."

Arkhan's only regret was not leaving Tristan behind.

When she returned, this place would inevitably be exposed to Camelot's eyes, and next time, there might be more than one Knight of the Round Table coming.

Although he didn't mind confronting more than one Knight of the Round Table, these villagers were undoubtedly in danger. If the battle grew too intense, he wouldn't be able to spare a thought to protect them.

The village chief also knew very well that it was not suitable to stay in this place any longer. So without delay, he quickly turned to the villagers and gave an order.

"Hurry back to your houses and pack up! We're leaving soon!"

Upon hearing that, a hint of sadness appeared on the faces of the villagers. They had finally found such a secluded shelter, only to discover that they would have to flee again so soon.

Despite their reluctance, they knew it was not the time to dawdle. Without saying anything, they each turned and walked toward their own houses.

However, there were a few elderly people who stayed behind.

"You guys..."

The village chief looked at them, first stunned, then as if he understood something, his face became slightly gloomy.

"We're too old, can't run anymore, hahaha..." Rasyid chuckled casually as if discussing something trivial. "Can't keep burdening the young ones. They're still full of hope, unlike us."

"Yeah, we've lived long enough."

"We've been running for so long, tired now. And this place, despite all the rocks, has a good vibe, peaceful. Being buried here, no worries about disturbances."

The tone of these elders was very calm as if they had decided it a long time ago. Among them, many had lost their loved ones in this tragedy, and they had long had no attachment to this world.

"No!" Mari suddenly stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Rasyid's waist, tears welling up in her eyes. "If you go, we all go! We can't leave you here! Those murderers won't spare any of you!"

Rasyid's rough hand gently stroked her head with a comforting smile on his face.

"Hey kid, we've been through enough, so even if we die, it won't be a loss. But you, you're different. You've got a shining future ahead. Wars will end someday, and life ahead will be wonderful. Grandpa is rooting for you to keep on living on."

"No, I don't want that! I... I don't... I don't... want you to die..." Mari choked, barely able to speak.

Watching her like this, the elders gathered around, whispering words of comfort to her.

The village chief silently stood to the side, his face filled with sadness.

Meanwhile, Arkhan only watched them in silence.

He could feel the resolve in the elders' hearts.

Although he could use Fenghuang Down to manipulate their will, what difference would it make from those who control their lives?

After all, they weren't choosing death because they lacked hope to live. They were doing it to give a chance to those who needed it more.

Forcing their will would only add to their pain.

Shaking his head, Arkhan turned and walked away.