Chapter 64: Character Determines Everything

In the duke's mansion, the duke was listening to reports from his hidden agents stationed at the Magic Academy.

The duke's eldest daughter had just been promoted to assistant finance minister, and his youngest daughter was about to become an empress. In terms of influence and power within the empire, he was unmatched. However, the duke wore a grave expression as he listened to the reports from his agents. Contrary to his recent ascent, his mood was now one of walking on thin ice. This was because he had received a letter a few days ago.

To be precise, it wasn't so much that he received it; he found it. The sender was Bishop Ronis, and the letter was addressed to Lord Theodorus of Orford. By coincidence, one of the duke's agents at the Magic Academy had been tasked with delivering this letter, and he naturally brought it directly to the duke first. Upon opening the letter, even the duke, known for his self-restraint and composure, was immediately taken aback.

Bishop Ronis stated in the letter that the duke had already achieved victory in the empire's political struggles, but this person's ambition was too great, and usurping the throne was only a matter of time. Such a person on the throne would pose a threat to every neighboring country, so it would be best to deal with him now, while he was still in his infancy. He requested Theodorus to bring all letters previously exchanged with the duke and all evidence of their collaboration to the capital.

The friendship between the duke and Theodorus began only six or seven years ago. The duke was not very familiar with Theodorus's past and never expected that he had an old acquaintance in Bishop Ronis. From this letter, it seemed that Bishop Ronis should have known all along that the duke was secretly aiding Theodorus in establishing Orford, yet he had never shown any reaction. The old man's deep cunning left the duke feeling quite inferior. Now, he had to act preemptively, and one strike would need to be almost lethal.

Although Theodorus was his friend, the duke understood that in the realm of significant matters, no friendship could rival the stakes involved. Theodorus was also well aware of what kind of person he was; the words in this letter were not mere exaggeration.

If this letter were to reach its destination, the consequences would be unimaginable. He needed to devote all his energy to dealing with this matter.

However, Bishop Ronis was highly influential, and his prestige and position rendered ordinary methods ineffective. In this situation, even the usually prudent duke had to resort to risky measures. The duke had established meticulous surveillance around the Magic Academy, closely monitoring Bishop Ronis and anyone associated with him, waiting for an opportunity.

Upon exiting the teleportation magic circle in the capital, Asa did not linger for a moment. After inquiring, he learned that Claudius's troops had not yet returned, so he immediately left the city.

After traveling towards Eiri for three or four days, Asa finally spotted the convoy escorting prisoners, including Rodhart and Claudius, at a relay station one evening. He did not rashly reveal himself but quietly approached Rodhart.

Rodhart, who was reading under the lamp, was overjoyed at his arrival. "You came just in time. Have things in Eiri been taken care of? I haven't received any news about the troops chasing after us, so I was anxious. I didn't expect you to catch up alone."

"What about your situation here? Has your senior brother not laid hands on your fellow townsfolk again?"

Rodhart shook his head. "He has indeed subdued all of us, so there's no need to exert more force. Throughout this journey, apart from subtly slowing the troop's speed, I haven't taken any unusual actions. I wanted him to think I was genuinely trapped, so he has let his guard down a bit."

Asa asked, "Have you discussed this with your townsfolk?"

Rodhart was taken aback, shaking his head in response. "That's impossible; no matter how much he relaxes, he would never give me that opportunity. Besides, how could I let the other soldiers see me conversing with prisoners I accused?"

"Then what do you intend for me to do now that I've caught up?"

Rodhart lowered his voice, which had already been quite quiet. "Neither the officials in Eiri nor the soldiers here are fully aware of the details. They only know that they are supposed to escort the prisoners back to the capital for trial. So as long as I lead the convoy back to the capital instead of Claudius, I'll have a way to resolve this perfectly." He patted Asa's hand, saying, "Whatever reason or method you use, as long as you can lure my senior brother away from the convoy, keeping him occupied for at least half a day—of course, the longer, the better. Then I can take the convoy away."

"Is it really that simple?" Asa frowned.

"It's definitely not simple. The key issue is how to draw Claudius away. He's meticulous and clever, and since he's on guard against us, he won't fall for our trap easily. I still haven't found his weakness..."

Asa furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment before nodding and smiling. "Alright, I'll get him to leave the convoy tomorrow morning."

Rodhart was momentarily stunned. "You have a way?"

"Don't worry. What you find difficult might not be a problem for me."

"Then it would be best if you draw him away around noon, after the convoy has moved away from the relay station. That way, I'll have a reason to continue leading the convoy forward."

"Alright." Asa suddenly remembered and said to Rodhart, "Since Claudius is only wary of you, you should lure him away now. I'll go check on how the captured people are doing."

After pondering for a moment, seeming to hesitate, Rodhart finally nodded. "Okay."

Before long, with Rodhart's help, Asa quietly sneaked into the barn where the prisoners were held. He easily knocked out the guard and wasn't worried they would report to Claudius the next day. As long as the prisoners didn't escape, it didn't matter; no one would voluntarily report a mysterious incident to a violent and cruel officer.

The townsfolk of Rodhart were very excited to see Asa. However, Asa was somewhat surprised that although they hadn't interacted with Rodhart, they seemed to have understood the general situation. Hunter Lavin was still alive; it was he who had told the others what had happened. After discussing among themselves and conversing with the guards, they pieced together a rough idea. Now, with Asa explaining it to them again, they all understood what was going on.

"We had already discussed it long ago; once we reach the capital, we will never betray the two of you." Hunter Lavin's eyes were blind, and his body could no longer move, but he could still speak and hear. He remained the leader among this group. "Our lives were saved by the two of you; how could we betray you? We're very happy that little Rodhart has reached this status. After all, once we fall into the hands of those vile officials, we will die sooner or later. We would rather die by our own hands than drag him down with us. It's just a pity for those children..."

Asa glanced over at the group of children nearby, some of them around ten years old and others still too young to speak.

"They're too young and don't understand; they might leak information. If necessary, we will..." Hunter Lavin's voice choked, his eyes mere empty sockets now, but a mother nearby was already shedding tears.

"No, I came specifically to tell you that we will definitely rescue you. Tomorrow at noon, Rodhart will lead the convoy forward, and once we reach the capital, he will have a way to save you."

Asa did not know what means Rodhart had, but since he said so, he would surely follow through. He smiled at the nearby children, patted their heads gently, and softly said, "Just wait patiently."

The next day at noon, Asa appeared at the front of the convoy as he had agreed with Rodhart.

Claudius was quite surprised to see him alone in front. Rodhart naturally had to pretend to be surprised as well.

"To think the priest is so swift," Claudius said slowly, staring at Asa. "You're so concerned about us that you even chased after us. I just don't know if the heretics in Eiri have been dealt with. That was an assignment given to you by His Majesty and Bishop Ronis..."

"It was resolved long ago." Asa also stared back at him, a smile on his face filled with mockery and confidence. "I even went back to the capital for a few days of fun. Do you want to know what I did in the capital these past few days?"

"The priest is truly in good spirits..." Claudius's eyes narrowed as he scanned Asa. He was very certain that the current situation was in his favor. He couldn't understand why the expression on Asa's face, which deserved to be chopped up, looked like that. "I wonder what the priest has been up to in the capital..."

"I was with your wife. You know we have a good relationship. We've been having a great time these past few days." Asa replied.

Claudius's expression froze.

This statement was loud enough for most of the people in the convoy to hear clearly. The crowd was immediately stirred.

Noble families often have murky affairs, but it was unheard of for someone to shout such things out loud to someone's face. There were a few followers of Claudius who had come from the capital in the group.

Asa felt an inexplicable pang in his heart. Although his intention was to provoke Claudius and make him feel ashamed, when the words "your wife" came out of his mouth, it felt as if his chest was being twisted by a knife.

"Do you know? She actually hates you very much," Asa's voice grew louder. "If it weren't for your family's damn surname, do you think you would deserve to marry her? In her eyes, you are even less than a single hair on my body."

"If you think I've insulted you, and if you're not satisfied, I've already chosen a place to settle our issues privately," Asa pointed at Claudius. "Are you willing to come?"

Rodhart looked at Asa, stunned. No matter how he thought about it, he never expected Asa would use such a method. This was no longer a compromise through strategy but a direct fight to the death.

Veins were throbbing on Claudius's forehead, so violently that it almost broke the skin. His golden hair stood on end as if blown by a wind. The soldiers had been watching him, but now no one dared to look him in the eye. Just as the anger on his face was about to explode, he suddenly burst into laughter, a mad, unrestrained laugh.

Then his laughter abruptly stopped. He nodded, "Alright. I accept your challenge. I'll go with you."

Claudius turned to Rodhart and said, "Lord Rodhart, as you wish, the group is entirely in your hands. Just take them away." He flashed a smile, but it was filled with malice. "You should take them away quickly, so you don't waste the kind intentions of the priest."

Rodhart met his gaze coldly and nodded, then looked at Asa and sighed. "Alright."

Claudius followed Asa away from the group. The group, under Rodhart's leadership, continued to move forward, quickly disappearing from view.

Only the two of them were left, with Claudius following Asa in the opposite direction. Neither spoke again during the walk.

It was unclear how long they walked. Eventually, they reached a clearing where a patch of grass met a small grove, and Claudius stopped. "This is good. No need to walk further. Your purpose has already been achieved."

Asa turned around and saw Claudius smiling. It seemed that since they left the group, Claudius had maintained this rare expression on his face. Asa frowned and asked, "You seem very happy?"

"Of course I'm happy. Because I can kill you with full justification," Claudius continued to smile, grinning like a fierce, bloodthirsty beast. His gaze became sharp, like a poisoned needle. "I don't care what that kid Rodhart does. The duke has these people to pressure you two and to hold down Bishop Ronis. That might be the greatest political benefit of this matter... but for me, nothing is more satisfying than killing you. I've had opportunities in the past, but fate has always allowed you to escape. This time you came to provoke me willingly; killing you gives me a legitimate reason."

"I will never forget how happy I am today, because I'm going to kill you myself." Claudius's hand rested on the hilt of his sword at his waist. "I know you want to buy time for that kid. Don't worry. As a reward for coming to me, I will let you have what you wish. I promise to spend an entire day slowly killing you here. It will be so spectacular that you won't forget it even in hell."

"Haha..." Asa laughed as well. "You make it sound like you actually have a chance..."

But his smile only lasted until the moment Claudius drew his sword.

Although Rodhart had always rated Claudius highly, Asa didn't think much of it. He had always believed that a person's ability could be seen from their character and demeanor. An extraordinary bearing and broad mind often indicated exceptional talent. Like General Grutt and Sandru. How skilled could a petty, narrow-minded, and treacherous person like Claudius be?

Perhaps there was some truth to this judgment, but he had forgotten something very important. Claudius was the apprentice of Roland, the Empire's first swordsman and the head of the Knights Templar. He was the heir to the position of head of the Knights Templar, a role that could not be gained merely through family status or conspiracy.

So it was only when Claudius moved his hand and his body shifted that Asa realized he was very wrong, and his mistake was grave.

What Claudius drew was not merely a sword, but a vast river—a brilliantly shining river that seemed to flow from the heavens, a majestic force condensed over a hundred years, rushing forth to engulf everything in its path, annihilating it completely.

Asa had seen such sword energy before, on a night in the capital when it had stabbed him from behind. He had thought that attack was from Duke Mrlak.

But he was completely mistaken; given the duke's depth and cunning, he would never strike directly if he truly wanted someone dead. If he had realized this at that time, he wouldn't have so rashly provoked Claudius. At the very least, he should have brought a weapon, but now he was empty-handed.

Back then, Claudius had only had a mediocre sword he found handy, but now he held the perfect weapon to unleash his power in this strike.

However, this was not the most critical issue. The most fatal flaw was Asa's own mental slackness; this was deadlier than being unarmed and facing an attack. The loss of vigilance and fighting spirit plunged him into a disadvantageous position. He had no choice but to retreat.

The sword light before him was no longer a vast river but had transformed into a tsunami rushing towards him. He didn't even have time to turn around; he could only retreat, retreat, and retreat.

Some people are mediocre in every way but possess unparalleled talent in a specific field; Claudius was such a person. He was indeed narrow-minded and overly scheming, definitely not someone exceptional, and not even a good person. However, he was a genius swordsman. Once he had a sword in hand, all his talents, vitality, and spirit that couldn't be expressed elsewhere immediately shone brightly.

As a top swordsman, as long as he seized the opportunity, a single strike would ensure his opponent's demise. Engaging in back-and-forth exchanges or merely injuring his opponent without killing them was the hallmark of second-rate swordsmen. Claudius's first strike was a lethal blow, a decisive strike that determined life or death.

Asa continued to retreat, the overwhelming force of the sword energy only a foot away, and he knew that as soon as he paused, he would be completely consumed and shredded to pieces.

He retreated into the trees behind him, the tsunami of sword energy closely following. The trees around him and behind him collapsed and broke. His body felt like it was surrounded by an invisible yet powerful lawnmower, while the trees seemed as fragile as foam, shattering and flying away as he retreated. He forcefully carved a path through the forest. However, the tsunami of sword light showed no sign of slowing, instead getting closer and closer...

The sword energy was now only half a foot away; he could feel his hair starting to break, and his skin was already beginning to sense the pain of impending tearing.

He could no longer retreat; any further retreat would mean death. Asa suddenly halted, concentrating all his spirit and strength. As his focus sharpened, the tsunami of sword energy in his eyes reverted to a single sword. He gathered every ounce of fighting spirit he could muster under the circumstances and grasped towards the radiant, overwhelming sword.

Asa could feel the sword's speed, power, vibration, and the killing intent it emitted—all merged into one. Anyone who could feel the full essence of this sword would feel that there was nothing in the world that it couldn't shred to pieces.

But he did not hesitate. Even without certainty, he had to catch it. If he could seize the moment when their fighting spirits clashed, that would be a battle of strength—a bare-knuckled fight to the death.

The air between his palm and the sword was compressed to its limit; once they touched, who lived and who died would be determined instantly.

The sword was like a tsunami. Could a pair of bare hands grasp an entire tsunami?

It was uncertain, for just as the wave of sword energy surged, it suddenly vanished. He grasped only emptiness. The sword inexplicably tilted away from its original trajectory, and the unmatched sword momentum dissipated from it. It was like a great painting, where all previous strokes and elegance had been perfect, but that final stroke suddenly became a child's careless scribble, ruining the entire exquisite masterpiece in an instant.

Although this astonishing strike failed mid-way, it might have been a more fatal change for Asa. The sword veered from its original path and brushed past his outstretched hands, directly aiming for his throat, with the tip now only two inches from his skin.

Asa was stunned; the change was too sudden, too unbelievable. But even that shock was deadly; although the sword had lost its energy and momentum, it still possessed speed and strength. While there was no longer a vast pressure behind it, it was still a deadly weapon.

In that moment of shock, the sword tip had already pierced his throat, immediately cutting into his trachea and heading for his cervical spine...

In this situation, there were no tactics or techniques left, only instincts. Asa's hand landed on the sword's body, pushing it away with a fierce pull while his body twisted desperately to the side... A spray of blood burst from his neck.

But Asa knew he had already won. The sword's tip had merely grazed his carotid artery and then was pushed further away by his fingers, only tearing the non-lethal flesh surrounding that vital vessel. It was only at this moment that he could afford to split his focus, and he finally saw the face of Claudius, who had always been right in front of him.

It was the face of a loser—filled with anger, unwillingness, and fear. His sword had been deflected, his momentum had waned, and in the blink of an eye, he had completely lost his combat effectiveness as a swordsman, fully defeated.

Asa naturally wouldn't give him a chance to recover his sword and regroup. His other hand had already gripped Claudius's wrist, exerting force.

The sound of bones shattering was surprisingly pleasant to hear for the first time.

He pulled away the sword, forming his hand into a fist that landed heavily on Claudius's chest. Amid the cacophony of bones breaking, Claudius immediately flew back, tumbling like a broken kite after being hurled through the air a short distance before crashing to the ground.

Asa gasped for breath, pressing his hand against his neck to staunch the bleeding with healing magic, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

If that sword tip had been even slightly off, the one lying on the ground would have been him. The reason he was able to deflect the sword was that it had struck the newly acquired ring. Otherwise, had the blade cut into the unprotected fingers in that fleeting moment, it might have been enough to sever his carotid artery.

Asa walked over to Claudius, who lay on the ground motionless, blood pouring from his mouth and nose. Asa, breathing heavily, looked at him and shook his head, saying, "I didn't win; you lost."

In a direct confrontation, Claudius would have had a much greater chance of winning than Asa, and even if he had ultimately lost, it would not have been this thoroughly, and Asa could not have emerged unscathed.

Perhaps he had aimed for an easy and skillful win, or perhaps he was wary because he had seen Asa's unarmed sword catch before. According to his judgment, Asa should not have been able to completely deflect the sword. However, it was indeed luck that the blade had struck the ring, but that luck stemmed from the choice he made.

Too accustomed to avoiding direct confrontation, too obsessed with methods, that's why, at the crucial moment, despite having the advantage, they gave up the hard approach that would inevitably lead to some loss, and chose to take shortcuts instead.

Those who want to win easily and beautifully often end up losing most thoroughly.

Claudius still lay there unmoving; it was unclear whether he had passed out, died, or was gravely injured and in the process of dying. While it didn't seem like a bad thing for someone like him to die, Asa felt he couldn't bring himself to go over and deal the finishing blows.

Asa remembered a saying, though he didn't know who had said it, and looked down at Claudius, saying, "Character determines everything."

The horse he had arrived on was nowhere to be found, so Asa had no choice but to walk back to the capital after five days of travel. He headed straight for the headquarters of the Paladin Order to find Rodhart.

As he passed through the square, he saw a crowd of people gathered, seemingly witnessing an execution. The sound of the guillotine falling and necks being severed echoed, and the crowd erupted with a collective gasp, some unable to bear it but overall reveling in the brutal spectacle. Asa paid no mind.

As the crowd dispersed, those who had come to watch began to trickle back. He could hear their comments about the event.

"They really killed quite a few this time, including some children. It's really tragic."

"But these rioters really deserved it; they had the audacity to kidnap and murder the commissioner. Lord Rodhart is truly remarkable; a case that had remained unsolved for so long was resolved in an instant under his command. It's truly impressive."

"Of course! He's a hero," someone exclaimed with admiration. "But these rioters don't seem that vicious. If it weren't for the overwhelming evidence and even finding the seal of the former commissioner, it would have been hard to believe. I heard these rioters even accused Lord Rodhart and another priest of being the culprits. It's just outrageous…"

Asa suddenly pushed through the crowd and rushed to the execution site.

The execution had already ended; the executioner and his assistant were picking up the heads scattered on the ground, while soldiers were lifting the headless corpses like cargo onto a wagon, presumably to be sent to Sandru.

The first head Asa saw was that of a person whose face had already been deformed, lacking eyes. Where the eyes should have been, only two holes remained, leaving the head staring blankly at him as if it were still alive. Beside it were several heads of children, and he recognized every one.