“It’s you! …Why? How are you still alive?”
Tyron looked at Marcus in disbelief. He was certain that among the older generation in Kalenpolis, no one would fail to recognize the former Grand Knight Commander.
A knight commander with immense prestige among the people, Marcus not only possessed superb martial skills but also a noble character that perfectly embodied the spirit of chivalry.
Legend had it that when Christina was young, he had completely vanished while on a remote investigation mission. The explanation given by His Holiness the Pope was that the witch, Ellyris, had murdered him.
Yet the man appearing here now, using the ancestral swordsmanship of the Paricio family, could be no one else.
“Haha… The former Grand Knight Commander, now in cahoots with a demon woman and serving as the leader of the Pope’s resistance? The people would laugh their heads off if they heard this,” Tyron laughed brazenly, clutching his stomach.
“Lord Dussel is no longer the man I knew. The so-called God of Creation he now believes in is actually an evil deity!” Marcus retorted bluntly.
“When I went on that expedition to investigate the northern sea regions, the evidence I found made it certain. Adomili is merely her pseudonym; her magical traces point directly toward ruin and death.”
Tyron grew impatient and interrupted, “I only care about whether there is money to be made. Your politics and your faith mean absolutely nothing to me!”
“How about this, great Knight Commander? Defeat me one-on-one in the knight’s duel you are so proud of. If I lose, I will willingly accept any punishment.”
No one expected this death squad captain, a man who lived by the blade, to actually challenge Marcus to a formal knight’s duel.
“I have no way out. My subordinates were all killed by a single strike from you just now. You have a squad of knights and that priestess behind you. Please, swing your greatsword and let us have a fair duel!”
In reality, Tyron was secretly calculating his odds. He still had a trump card he had not used, along with a large number of alchemy potions, including a rare invisibility potion.
On a frontal battlefield, it was essentially impossible for him to win fairly. Marcus was Level 60, while Tyron was only Level 50.
Besides, did anyone in the game actually expect a Thief to face a Paladin head-on? It was unthinkable.
“Out of chivalry, I respect your choice, Lord Tyron. Come forward.” Marcus planted his greatsword into the ground, waiting for Tyron to approach the duel with a calm composure.
“I shall humbly accept.” Tyron instantly moved behind Marcus, and the battle erupted.
**[Shadow Raid]**! **[Poison Mutilation]**!
Having immediately consumed the invisibility potion, Tyron was now in a stealth state. His goal was to conduct the entire duel while invisible; if he found himself outmatched, he would flee immediately before the potion’s duration expired.
A sudden surprise attack from a target that had vanished was something no one could fully prepare for.
Marcus’s calf was wounded by Tyron’s poisoned hidden blade, and black blood began to ooze from the wound.
Marcus pulled out a cross and prayed in a low voice. A pale golden halo emerged around him. **[Cleanse Disease]**, **[Holy Heal]**!
Sorry, Lord Thief, but Paladins are known for being able to both fight and heal. The injury Marcus had just sustained was healed in a matter of moments.
“As expected of the Grand Knight Commander. I just used my full strength,” Tyron’s voice echoed, though his figure remained unseen.
“Lord Tyron, your rat-like method of hiding while attacking truly violates my principles for a duel,” Marcus said with a hint of annoyance, already forming his next plan of action.
Unexpectedly, Tyron did not retreat but pressed forward. He threw a large number of poisoned darts with both hands. The darts were attached to invisible thin wires, the ends of which were gathered in his palms. He then pulled out dual-wielded hidden blades and slashed out two dark light blades. **[Keen Shadow Strike]**!
Marcus used his greatsword to sweep away the majority of the darts, but Tyron manipulated the wires, causing the flight paths of the remaining darts to change, arcing back to strike Marcus’s back.
With Marcus having to deal with the **[Keen Shadow Strike]** from the front, he was now effectively attacked from both sides.
“Believe in the Holy Light!” **[Divine Shield]**!
A massive amount of golden runes surged from his silver-white armor. The powerful **[Divine Shield]** blocked all of Tyron’s offensives.
“It is time to end this!” **[Consecration]**!
As the Paladin skill **[Consecration]** was activated, the ground beneath Marcus’s feet instantly bloomed with holy patterns resembling the stained glass of a cathedral. The entire area around him was covered in powerful divine energy, and Tyron’s invisibility was forcibly dispelled.
“Damn it!” Tyron cursed helplessly. One could only say that the Paladin class was simply too effective at countering Thieves; it was impossible to win in a formal one-on-one duel.
With a cold, barely perceptible smile at the corner of his mouth, he suddenly vanished from Marcus’s sight and reappeared directly in front of Rachel.
‘Sorry, I’m diving the backline~’
Rachel reacted instinctively, but she was still unable to dodge in time. Her arm was sliced by Tyron’s hidden blade, though fortunately, it missed her vitals.
Rachel was no pushover, however. She activated the light magic **[Flash]**, hitting Tyron point-blank with a high-intensity burst of light, and successfully left a teleportation magic mark beneath his feet.
Tyron was instantly dazed and disoriented, unable to make a follow-up move.
Marcus immediately fell back to defend and launched a counterattack. **[Crusader Strike]**!
He swung his greatsword, and as the Holy Light intertwined with the wind of the blade, it slammed heavily into Tyron’s chest.
A spray of blood erupted from Tyron’s mouth. He was forced to roll away by instinct, retreating from the area where Marcus and Rachel stood.
Standing there wounded and trembling, Tyron staggered backward. The leather armor on his body was already ruined, and the black hood on his head had been knocked away.
It seemed the winner had been decided.
“Lord Tyron, we agreed on a knight’s duel. Why did you unilaterally break our pact?” Marcus pointed his greatsword at Tyron with one hand and questioned him.
“Hahaha… Only fools serve for honor. In my eyes, chivalry is nothing special.” Blood continued to pour from the corner of Tyron’s mouth, but he still clung to his assassin’s creed.
“You won today. However, catching me won’t be that easy!”
Having said that, Tyron pulled out a finely crafted Dwarven steel heavy crossbow from under his cloak and fired five heavy bolts in rapid succession.
“Lady Rachel, please be careful!”
Guarding Rachel, Marcus used his greatsword to parry two of the bolts. However, the power of the bolts fired from this weapon was far too great. The subsequent three heavy bolts pierced straight through Marcus’s plate armor, knocking him back roughly 10 meters…
Throwing down a smoke bomb, Tyron vanished from everyone’s sight.
What he didn’t expect was that Rachel chose that exact moment to activate her teleportation magic. The teleportation mark she had previously left on Tyron took effect.
“You murderer of innocent lives, you shall not escape!” Rachel proclaimed loudly, continuing to channel her mana to trigger the spell.
Rachel used the teleportation magic to send Tyron into a precise trap she had set, forcing him to reap what he had sown.
It was a dungeon trap that the resistance had discovered and marked with a teleportation sigil. The bottom was filled with exposed iron spikes. Now, he was about to be impaled by those rusted shards.
Perishing in the very manner of “accident” he most despised, Tyron’s eyes were filled with disbelief and shock before he died. He never dreamed that one day, he would die in one of his own traps.