Chapter 605: Ancient... Weathered... Mysterious...

*DING!*

As this metallic sound rang out like a tolling bell and echoed above the Frenzel residence, a shockwave rippled through the courtyard like a crashing wave, shaking the very ground beneath it.

Many people were inevitably startled by the commotion—one by one, they rushed into the courtyard and saw a battlefield riddled with cracks.

Riezel and Lizbeth had already separated, standing apart and facing each other—one holding a black sword, the other gripping a golden sword still sheathed, both locked in a tense standoff.

Both master and attendant breathed evenly, their rhythm steady and unbroken, showing no sign of exhaustion despite the fierce clash moments earlier.

Soon, waves of murmurs drifted to Riezel’s and Lizbeth’s ears—it was the sound of the Frenzel family members who had come after hearing the noise.

"Isn’t that Sir Brynhart?"

"When did Sir Brynhart return?"

"Wasn’t he away traveling?"

"He’s back?"

"Quick, tell the lady—bring the lady back here!"

Hearing these voices, Riezel instantly realized he had caused too big a scene.

Now, news of his return to the royal capital would no longer remain hidden.

Once his return was confirmed, the royal palace surely would not remain calm either.

It was only natural.

Yuri had already said it—the royal family of Jinas now regarded him as a prized treasure. Knowing he had returned, Hendrick would surely not be able to sit still.

Of course, Riezel had long known this couldn’t be hidden for long, so he had already prepared himself for it.

Ignoring the endless chatter around him, Riezel once again fixed his gaze on Lizbeth.

Lizbeth, seeming to notice the arrival of others as well, drew back the terrifying spiritual power that had been engulfing the courtyard and returned to the harmless-looking little princess she usually appeared to be.

On the surface, she seemed unchanged, yet her deception was frighteningly convincing.

It looked like the little princess was preparing to stop, unwilling to continue fighting.

Riezel did not object either, since he had already roughly understood the changes within her.

Only...

He suddenly shifted his gaze toward the weapon Lizbeth held—the still unsheathed holy sword of the Hero Clan.

He still hadn’t figured out exactly what changes it had undergone, so after pondering briefly, he decided to have Lizbeth unleash Moslow

.

"Draw your sword, Lizbeth."

Riezel’s words reached Lizbeth’s ears clearly.

"Uh..."

Lizbeth had been about to lower her raised sword, but upon hearing Riezel’s command, her movement halted, and a trace of hesitation appeared on her face.

"What’s wrong?" Riezel, noticing her reaction, asked curiously.

"N-Nothing..." Lizbeth shook her head, but hesitation still lingered across her face. "...Do I really have to?"

Seeing her weak response, Riezel raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?" Riezel asked casually.

"...No." Lizbeth, although still hesitant, ultimately steeled herself upon seeing the curiosity on her master’s face. "Since Master wants to see Moslow’s power, then Master shall see it."

As these words fell, she took a deep breath, her expression settling into calm once more.

*Schwing—*

Lizbeth gripped Moslow’s hilt and began to draw it slowly.

"..."

In that instant, an indescribable feeling erupted from the depths of everyone’s hearts.

It was suffocating.

It was oppressive.

It was as if something unspeakably terrifying was awakening in this world, stirring the primal instincts of life itself.

Everyone in the courtyard instinctively held their breath, their expressions twisting—even Riezel was no exception.

Because his sense was sharper than anyone else’s, in this very moment, Riezel felt as though he were facing an existence even more dreadful, more ancient, more overwhelming than the ancient fire dragon suppressed by the Nibelung Pillar in the ancient ruin of Reinnail.

Riezel’s features inevitably tensed, his gaze grew solemn.

Amid that crushing presence, Lizbeth finally roused that ancient existence from its slumber.

*Buzz—*

As Moslow left its sheath, it trembled faintly.

Outwardly, it looked unchanged, but the glow along its blade had vanished—and in its place, a silent, unseen aura seeped forth.

Ancient...

Weathered...

Mysterious...

As Moslow’s aura filled the courtyard, Riezel’s expression grew heavier, while the onlookers turned pale—some sweating profusely, their faces dripping as if under heavy rain.

They stared at Lizbeth in terror.

They collapsed to the ground, faces drained of color.

They were overwhelmed by that ancient, weathered, mysterious aura—so much so they couldn’t even think of running.

Meanwhile, Lizbeth’s magical energy slowly merged with the aura emanating from Moslow in her hand, and Moslow, in turn, fed back power into her body.

In that moment, both of them became one, inseparable—the feeling resembled what had happened when Ice Maiden drew the national artifact in the ancient ruin.

Now, with Moslow’s power surging through her, Lizbeth’s presence grew oppressive and formidable—her once-clear eyes now tinged with gold, her gaze indifferent and detached.

’Not good...’

Seeing Lizbeth like this, Riezel instinctively sensed danger.

It was as if she had transformed from a mere mortal into a divine being standing above all, gazing down upon everything.

At this very moment, his intuition screamed that if he didn’t stop her, something terrible would happen.

He had always trusted his instincts, so without hesitation, he cast his magic.

’Silent Magic - Time Stop.’

"———"

Time suddenly came to a halt.

Riezel unleashed his time magic, freezing the flow of time across the world, yet what happened next completely stunned him.

*Crack!*

With a shattering sound like breaking glass, the frozen world collapsed.

Amid the absolute stillness, the girl radiating that ancient, weathered, mysterious aura remained completely unaffected as she raised her eyes, lifted her sword, and swung.

Her strike seemed to sever the very frozen flow of time itself, shattering the halted world and making time begin to move once more.

As a result, the world returned to normal, as though nothing had happened.

In the next moment, Lizbeth slowly raised the golden sword she had swung, lifting it high above her head.

"!!!"

In that moment, a chill ran through everyone’s hearts.

"Lizbeth!"

Riezel hurriedly shouted her name as the warning sirens in his mind blared.

If Lizbeth unleashed her next strike, no matter what became of him, the Frenzel residence would not remain standing.

He didn’t know why, but his instincts told him that if that ancient, weathered, mysterious golden sword descended, the result would be catastrophic—not only the residence, but the entire royal capital could be drawn into disaster.

Needless to say, that strike could not be allowed to happen.

"!!!"

As Riezel’s shout reached her ears, Lizbeth froze with her sword still raised, her whole body stiffening in place.

*Swish!*

In that instant, Riezel appeared before Lizbeth, pressing down on the hand that held Moslow aloft.

"Enough." Riezel stared into Lizbeth’s eyes. "You can sheathe it now, Lizbeth."

At the sound of his voice, Lizbeth slowly raised her head, her golden eyes finally meeting his gaze.

Her eyes were still filled with indifference, still detached—and when he looked into them, Riezel felt as though he were offending a noble existence above all by daring to meet her gaze.

However, fear and hesitation were not in his nature.

Not only did he refuse to look away, but he met her golden eyes head-on, unyielding and steady.

Time itself seemed to halt once again—though in a different sense.

Just like that, the master and attendant stared at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity.

At last, Lizbeth moved.

Guided by Riezel’s firm yet gentle pressure, she slowly slid Moslow back into its sheath.

In that moment, the ancient, weathered, mysterious aura vanished, dissipating like smoke, while the crushing oppression that had filled the courtyard lifted, and the golden light in Lizbeth’s eyes faded away.

""Phew...""

Finally, the onlookers remembered to breathe, exhaling heavily.

"M-Master..."

Lizbeth, clutching Moslow, returned to normal, and like a child who had done something wrong, she lowered her head, not daring to meet Riezel’s eyes.

"I-I didn’t mean to, Master..."

Her voice trembled, as though she might burst into tears, hurriedly offering an explanation.

"I know. I don’t blame you..." Riezel replied, unconsciously letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing Lizbeth return to herself. "So, what was that state just now?"

Lizbeth’s strange state was the only thing that concerned him.

"I don’t know either..." Lizbeth shrank back slightly, replying timidly. "Ever since Moslow’s seal was undone, as soon as I draw it, I become like that..."

Upon hearing this, Riezel’s brows furrowed tightly.

"So you’re saying... whenever you use Moslow, you can’t control yourself?" Riezel asked seriously, his solemn gaze fixed firmly on Lizbeth.

Lizbeth shook her head quickly.

"No, I can still control myself. I still know what I’m doing..." Lizbeth explained carefully, hesitating before finally finding the right words. "It’s just that when I’m in that state, I stop caring much about anything... It feels like I’m standing somewhere very high, looking down at the world... No matter what I do, it all feels natural..."

In fact, it was precisely because that feeling unsettled her so deeply that she had hesitated so much when Riezel asked her to draw Moslow.

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