Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 129

Chapter 129: Confrontation!
The Libra Knight standing in front of Ryan declared his intent with a detached tone that belied the gravity of the situation.

Ryan’s frown deepened as he processed the rapid sequence of events. From his conversation with Jorah about the “Black Cat Divination House” to this unsettling confrontation, barely half an hour had passed. The speed with which the Libra Holy Church had mobilized to detain him seemed implausibly fast. Even if Jorah had immediately betrayed him, the logistics of gathering intelligence and pinpointing his location so swiftly seemed far-fetched.

Unless, Ryan considered, the Church employed some magic device that triggered on the mere mention of the word “cat.” In a world replete with mystical artifacts, especially within a powerful organization like the Libra Holy Church, such a mechanism was not beyond the realm of possibility.

This predicament, Ryan acknowledged, stemmed partly from his own oversight. Unaware of the theft of the holy object, he hadn’t exercised the usual caution.

But speculation aside, the reality remained, he was cornered.

“What if I refuse to comply?” Ryan’s voice was low and steady, his gaze locked on the knight before him.

Given that his identity had been compromised, Ryan knew that any promise of release was mere pretense. Even if cleared of involvement with the theft, the Libra Knights could simply detain him longer, possibly turning him over to the authorities of Augustus for a substantial reward.

“In that case, we will not hesitate to use force,” the knight responded, his voice calm but resolute as his hand clanged against his sheath, drawing a gleaming sword with practiced ease.

The knights likely never anticipated that Ryan, infamous as the ‘son of blood’ and known for his defiance against nobility, would surrender without a fight.

As the two knights advanced in unison, their spiritual energy flaring, they made no move to offer Ryan an escape route. They were intent on capture, or perhaps more.

Ryan allowed them to close the distance, his expression unreadable. When they were merely two meters away, he exploded into action.

“Bang!”

The sound was thunderous, reverberating through the alley as Ryan charged forward, his body a battering ram against the knight in front of him. This unconventional tactic took the knight by surprise.

In battle, one might dodge or parry with a weapon, but to collide head-on with sheer physical force was unexpected, especially from someone of Ryan’s mystical prowess.

Yet, a knight promoted to the second level was no ordinary foe, and his reaction, though momentarily delayed, would be swift and skilled.

As Ryan bore down on him, the Libra Knight remained composed, expertly adjusting his stance. He aimed the sharp tip of his longsword directly at the unprotected area of Ryan’s throat, a fatal thrust if Ryan continued his charge.

The knight was certain Ryan would evade; he had already played out the likely maneuvers in his mind. However, to his astonishment, Ryan showed no signs of dodging, even as the deadly blade loomed mere inches from his neck.

Under his mask, the Libra Knight’s eyes hardened with resolve. ‘if he seeks death, I shall grant it’, he thought coldly.

But just as the sword was about to make contact, a blur occurred. Ryan’s speed escalated dramatically, a faint aura of fire enveloping him. With a deft sidestep, he dodged the blade, swinging behind the knight in a fluid motion. His fist, trailing flames, struck the knight’s back with a resounding “Bang!”

The impact reverberated through the silver armor, sending a shockwave of force that propelled the Libra Knight forward. He collided with his companion, who had been rushing in from behind, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

Ryan didn’t pause; he sprinted away, knowing all too well that killing a Libra Knight within the city walls of Santos would be disastrous. His brief skirmish had given him a good measure of the knight’s abilities, they were formidable but fell short of the prowess of the Black Knight.

Concluding that such adversaries could be handled without recourse to lethal force, Ryan opted against escalating the conflict into a vendetta against the Libra Holy Church.

His pace was swift, outstripping the recovering knights by a considerable margin. By the time they regained their footing and resumed the chase, Ryan was nothing more than a fleeting shadow, soon lost to them entirely.

…

Ryan took a circuitous route back toward North City, planning to exit through the north gate and make his way to the coastal area where Freni and Cecilia were hiding. However, as he approached the gate, he slowed, sensing something amiss. The usual throng of pedestrians was conspicuously absent today.

At the gate stood a burly knight clad in light gold armor, his visage obscured by a helmet. A heavy sword rested against the ground beside him, signaling he had been waiting there for some time. Unlike the knights Ryan had just evaded, this one bore a crest of purple petals on his chest, a symbol unfamiliar to Ryan.

“Sir Ryan, please come with me,” the knight’s voice rumbled, a low hum that carried an undercurrent of formidable spiritual power. The atmosphere around the gate thickened, charged with an ominous energy as the knight awaited Ryan’s response.

The ethereal aura of spirituality, much like a surging tide, emanated from the center of the battlefield, where a knight clad in pale gold armor stood. This powerful wave of spiritual energy, pulsating outward, engulfed the vicinity, reaching Ryan as he stood under the ancient arch of the city gate.

As the potent spiritual forces collided with Ryan’s more modest reserve, an intense spiritual pressure overwhelmed him, unbalancing the atmosphere with its sheer intensity. Staring across the distance at the formidable figure, Ryan couldn’t help but fixate on the imposing knight, still holding his position with sword in hand.

Before Ryan’s eyes, a ghostly gray prompt materialized, floating ethereally:

[Hansal Nicholson, the “Iris Knight”: 37 years old, 210 cm tall, the chief knight of the “Iris Family”, a level 3 [Grand Knight], with a mastery in Tidal Sea Great Swordsmanship.]

You feel heavy pressure!

“Level 3 [Grand Knight]…” Ryan murmured, a sense of dread settling in his heart.

The title of [Grand Knight] marked a formidable rank on the “Soldier Path,” following the ranks of [First-level Soldier] and [Second-level Warrior]. Though the titles seemed straightforward, they belied the true depth and strength of the Soldier Path, particularly in hand-to-hand combat. The path was riddled with unique and secretive techniques that often created vast disparities in power among practitioners of the same level.

More daunting was the realization that Hansal was only the second individual Ryan had encountered who possessed a skill at the ‘Mastery Level’. The first had been Cecilia, a formidable opponent in her own right.

Ryan, despite his prowess with Storm Swordsmanship, had yet to achieve mastery. He knew he was close, needing only a breakthrough in the “Three-stage Power Accumulation” technique, a realization he felt was just within his grasp.

Mastery in a weapon skill profoundly enhanced a combatant’s effectiveness. Cecilia, once merely a first-level warrior, had leveraged her mastery in thorn swordsmanship to devastating effect, easily overpowering multiple peers and even challenging second-level warriors with apparent ease.

Considering this, Ryan understood that the strength of the “Iris Knight” was not to be underestimated among his peers.

Most would assume that a duel between a third-level and a first-level combatant would be decidedly one-sided.

But neither Ryan nor Hansal shared this view.

Hansal, aware of Ryan’s named “Bloody Son,” recognized that despite being a first-level warrior, Ryan’s combat effectiveness was anomalously high. He had heard tales of Ryan repelling attacks from two second-level Libra Knights with disturbing ease. Hansal had never before witnessed such prowess at the first level, which typically belonged to realms of witches, not mere men.

Meanwhile, Ryan harbored his own convictions. Although disadvantaged in rank and mastery of weapon skills, he did not see himself as without chance. His combat prowess was not solely reliant on his spirituality but also on his extraordinary physical constitution, which surpassed even seasoned second-level warriors, and a diverse arsenal of “trophy skills.” As for his weapon skills, they were not to be underestimated based on mere data.

Thus, as the spiritual pressure intensified around them, both warriors prepared mentally for a battle that promised to defy expectations and perhaps redefine the limits of their ranks.