Chapter 621: Captain-Commander Florent Borley, the Cornered Hendrick

"..."

Silence.

An indescribable silence began to spread through the crumbling throne room.

Now, the space that had just been filled with red lightning and explosion-like shockwaves had fallen utterly still.

Even the knights and court magicians, who had been blown to the ground in disarray, dared not utter a single word—they barely even breathed, holding their breath as they stared at the two figures facing each other in the center of the throne room.

The red lightning surrounding Riezel’s body gradually faded away.

The strange, obscure magical energy lingering around Florent’s black long sword also began to withdraw.

Both of them stood a short distance apart, locking eyes—completely ignoring Rohm, who had been fiercely fighting Riezel moments ago, only to be sent flying into a stone pillar.

At this moment, in this room, the only thing in the two swordsmen’s eyes was each other—no one else existed.

"Phew..."

Hendrick exhaled in relief once he saw that Rohm was unharmed, but his gaze toward Riezel quickly turned uncertain and uneasy.

Yuri, too, felt slightly reassured upon confirming that Riezel was safe, yet the moment her eyes fell upon the swordsman standing opposite him, her heart tightened again.

"Oh?" Ferras, who had still been lamenting the state of his wand, raised an eyebrow lightly at the sight. "He couldn’t sit still after all?"

Evidently, Florent’s move had taken him by surprise.

As for the knights scattered messily across the floor, they all cried out instinctively.

"Captain-Commander!"

"Captain-Commander Florent!"

"Marquis Borley!"

Seeing their captain-commander finally take action, some were overjoyed, some were stirred, and others wore complex expressions.

Unfortunately, Florent, who was said to possess the power to challenge even the Old Sword Saint Jinas, paid them no heed, for there was no one else in his eyes at this very moment.

"I see..."

Having quietly observed the fight from the sidelines until now, Florent finally spoke—his face remained expressionless, and his tone was flat.

"Is this the kind of power you possess? No wonder even Marquis Mavros lost to you. My worthless son’s defeat was clearly not undeserved."

Riezel did not respond and merely glanced at the black sword in Florent’s hand before sheathing his own black sword, which still radiated residual heat.

However, the act did not put anyone present at ease—on the contrary, it made every one of them tense up even more, for they knew full well that Riezel sheathing his sword did not mean he was about to stop fighting.

If anything, it meant he was preparing for the next strike—and when that sword was drawn again, the sky and earth would surely tremble.

Lightning-fast blade strikes were already Riezel’s signature.

Everyone present had experienced firsthand what it meant for him to be called the Lightning Sword Saint—what

’a flash of lightning means defeat’

truly meant.

For this reason, seeing Riezel sheathe his sword only filled them with greater tension and fear, never with relief.

Indeed, that was the truth, because now—with one hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his waist—the aura emanating from Riezel’s body surged instead of fading, rising with terrifying intensity.

"You’ve finally decided to move, huh?" Riezel said in a calm tone. "I was wondering how long Marquis Borley planned to sit back and watch."

Needless to say, this line alone made it clear to everyone in the room that he had never ignored Florent—not even from the start.

In truth, from the very beginning, the only opponent Riezel had regarded as a genuine threat was this one man, which was only natural.

From the moment Riezel stepped into the throne room, he had sensed a faint trace of danger emanating from Florent Borley, the descendant of the famous and prestigious family of Sword Saint.

No one else—not Ferras, not Rohm—had given him that feeling, so even while he appeared to be engaged in fierce battle with others, a large part of his focus had always been on Florent.

He had been waiting for Florent to make a move.

He had been watching to see how long Florent could maintain his composure.

It was only when Riezel unleashed

Godspeed

and was about to cut Rohm down that Florent finally lost his calm and intervened.

And the moment Florent acted, his overwhelming power was revealed beyond doubt.

"To block

Godspeed

so easily... as expected of the current Sword Saint of the Borley family—you truly live up to your name." Riezel gave his evaluation plainly.

"Likewise..." Florent replied, his expression remaining unchanged. "Your reputation is well deserved as well—the Lightning Sword Saint is indeed as powerful as the rumors claim. Anyone foolish enough to underestimate you for your youth would surely die a miserable death."

Florent paused for a moment, then added.

"You’re even stronger than I imagined—quite a surprise to me."

"And to think you’re also a Tactical-Class Magician capable of using incomprehensible space magic... If you were to unleash your full power here, you’d likely display even more terrifying might than what we’ve seen so far."

"Your strength is no less than mine, nor less than that of the Old Sword Saint."

"Although young, I must admit—you already have the right to contend for the title of the strongest in the kingdom."

Florent’s astonishing praise caused the faces of everyone present to change drastically—even Hendrick’s expression shifted several times.

Everyone turned their eyes toward Riezel, gazing at that strikingly young face, unable to conceal their shock.

It was, after all, the acknowledgment of the current Sword Saint of the Borley family himself.

As someone who was also qualified to compete for the title of the kingdom’s strongest, for Florent to declare that Riezel’s strength was equal to his own—and even to that of the Old Sword Saint—was more than enough proof that everyone had underestimated his power.

Just as Florent had said, Riezel was young, yes, but his strength was truly monstrous.

All those present had to admit that this excessively young Sword Saint already stood at the pinnacle of the kingdom—someone to whom even ordinary Sword Saints would have to bow their heads.

Such a realization was difficult for many to accept.

Hendrick, especially, was filled with regret—he regretted ever clashing with Riezel.

What tremendous potential?

What limitless future?

Even now, this absurdly young Sword Saint already possessed enough strength to crush all doubt, hostility, and opposition beneath his sword.

Was opposing someone like him truly the right choice?

Such turmoil couldn’t help but ripple through Hendrick’s heart as he suddenly realized that perhaps, just perhaps, he had made a terrible mistake.

But by now, it was far too late to change anything.

"To earn such praise from the kingdom’s captain-commander—I’m truly honored."

Riezel responded lightly, yet despite his words, his expression remained unusually calm—so calm, in fact, that it bordered on cold.

"In any case, my next opponent... is you, isn’t it?"

As these words fell, the tense atmosphere returned once more.

However, Florent merely shook his head.

"I do wish to test your sword." Florent said in a composed tone. "Your blade is, after all, quite fascinating. Unfortunately, not under circumstances like these."

For reasons unknown, everyone present understood the meaning behind his words.

He meant that with the

Light of Heaven

suppressing Riezel—robbing him of his ability to use magic or exert his full strength—such a constrained duel was not what he desired.

Florent wanted to cross swords with Riezel, but not with a Riezel whose power was bound and limited.

Had Riezel not been under the suppression of the

Light of Heaven

, Florent would never have let the opportunity for battle slip by.

Such was the nature of the swordsmen from the Borley family—men utterly devoted to the way of the sword.

Generation after generation, their descendants refined themselves not by taking shortcuts to become Sword Saints, but through the most straightforward and arduous path of all—through direct challenge and perseverance.

Albert Borley had been the same—his goal had been to challenge and defeat a thousand Sword Masters, to hone himself through battle, and by that alone ascend to the rank of Sword Saint.

Florent Borley, naturally, was no different.

As a swordsman, he longed for worthy, powerful opponents, and most of all, he yearned to witness exquisite swordsmanship firsthand.

Riezel was, unquestionably, an opponent worthy of his recognition, as watching the battle from the sidelines had already set his blood boiling.

Despite his calm demeanor, Florent was cold on the outside and burning within, yet it was precisely because of this nature that he would never accept a duel against a restrained, incomplete opponent.

"Sir Brynhart, there will be a battle between us. In fact, it’s something I look forward to." Florent continued, ignoring the startled looks from those around him. "But not now. I will wait until the day you can fight with your full strength—and then, I shall face you properly."

Right after saying this, he turned toward Hendrick.

"Your Majesty, may I request that you release the Ninth Princess from her confinement?"

Florent’s words shocked everyone present, including Hendrick himself.

"What did you... just say?" Hendrick asked, his expression darkening instantly.

"I said... please lift the confinement placed upon Her Highness the Ninth Princess."

Florent repeated calmly, his face remaining expressionless.

"I do not know what exactly has transpired, but since Her Highness is now serving as Sir Brynhart’s attendant, Your Majesty’s decision to ignore the will of a promising young Sword Saint and detain his attendant arbitrarily is already an act of disrespect."

"Furthermore, for the kingdom to make an enemy of such a formidable Sword Saint over a single princess—over a single attendant—would be an act of utter folly."

"As the current head of the Borley family and captain-commander of the Royal Knightly Order, I must ask Your Majesty to reconsider whether this course of action truly benefits the kingdom."

"If it does not... then I can only beg Your Majesty’s pardon, for I shall no longer raise my blade here."

As he said this, Florent indeed sheathed his sword and stepped back, making it clear that even if Riezel were to act again, he would not interfere anymore.

"You—"

Hendrick’s face grew even darker, but just then, another voice joined in.

"I would also ask Your Majesty to reconsider."

Ferras suddenly chimed in with a faint smile.

"Though his methods were a bit excessive, Sir Brynhart merely sought to reclaim his attendant. Such a request is entirely reasonable. For the kingdom to make him an enemy over this is... difficult for us to justify."

"Since Her Highness the Ninth Princess has already left the palace, it makes little sense to confine her again."

"I, too, implore Your Majesty to lift Her Highness’s confinement and allow the young ones to be reunited."

Ferras’s words filled Yuri with both surprise and joy.

"Director..."

Truthfully, she hadn’t expected Ferras to speak up on their behalf, so she was deeply moved that he did.

Suddenly being cornered, Hendrick finally fell silent.

Now, he was truly riding a tiger and could no longer dismount.

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