Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 246

Chapter 246: Facing The Black Knight!
The Fourth Seat had finally shown up, and Ryan knew the time for waiting was over. The battle was about to begin.

Despite the overwhelming spiritual pressure radiating from the Fourth Black Knight, so intense that it made the air itself tremble, Ryan felt no fear. His strength had grown exponentially since leaving the island. With the power of the [Tide of Pain] coursing through him, bolstering his [Spirituality] to 54 points and his [Physique] to an impressive 100, he stood his ground with dignity. He respected the power before him but wasn’t intimidated.

In truth, it had been the uncertainty that unsettled Ryan the most. The looming threat of the unknown. But now that the Fourth Seat had appeared, a strange sense of calm washed over him. At least now he knew what he was facing. The unknown was far more terrifying than any opponent standing in the light.

There was no doubt that the Fourth Black Knight was incredibly strong—possibly the strongest Ryan had ever faced. But Ryan wasn’t weak either.

Just as Ryan braced himself for the impending clash, a hurried voice broke into his thoughts.

It was Durland, his tone laced with urgency. “I’m sorry, Mr. Zifeng. I’ve dragged you into this. I’ll use my secret method to buy us time. You need to run while you can.”

Durland’s words took Ryan by surprise, but before he could respond, he noticed something changing in Durland.

Under the oppressive weight of the Black Knight’s spiritual pressure, Durland had been slightly hunched, his body straining against the force. But now, little by little, he straightened up, his stance becoming more resolute. His spiritual energy, once at a high fourth-level, began to surge, climbing higher and higher, until it reached the very peak of the fourth level. Then, with a final burst, he pushed to the absolute limit.

A violent wind swirled around Durland, clashing with the flowing shadows cast by the Black Knight. The force of their energies turned the battlefield into a storm of raw power.

“*Oh?*” The Fourth Black Knight’s voice betrayed mild surprise at Durland’s transformation, but his expression remained cold, indifferent. “Even if you use a secret method to boost your spirituality… so what?”

His eyes flickered with disdain. “In the end, you’re still just a weakling.”

Before his words had even fully faded, the Fourth Black Knight vanished. One moment he stood before them, the next he was gone, as if the shadows had swallowed him whole. When he reappeared, he was behind Durland, moving like a wraith. His long sword, wreathed in eerie black flames, descended toward Durland’s neck—a silent, lethal strike.

The Fourth Black Knight moved like a ghost, his speed and stealth not born of mere physical prowess but some arcane spiritual technique that allowed him to manipulate the battlefield with terrifying precision.

*Clang!*

Durland’s green sword flew up to block the strike, but it was clear he hadn’t been prepared for such a swift, silent attack. Though he managed to parry, the force of the blow sent him skidding backward, his boots digging into the ground and carving a deep ten-meter trench in the earth.

The sound of swords clashing echoed through the air, but it was clear who held the advantage. The Black Knight’s strike had been calculated, precise, while Durland, though strong, had barely managed to react in time.

Ryan watched, his eyes narrowing. The gap in power was undeniable, but Durland wasn’t out of the fight yet. And neither was he.

Just as the Fourth Black Knight was preparing to capitalize on his advantage, his instincts screamed for him to halt. He skidded to a stop, his eyes narrowing as dozens of sword lights formed a green spiritual net before him. If he had rushed forward, his body would have been torn to pieces by the razor-sharp energy.

“Interesting…” he muttered, his expression tightening with a hint of seriousness. His gaze shifted toward Ryan, the black-haired swordsman standing calmly in the distance, surrounded by swirling sword energy. The knight’s voice dropped to a low growl, his disdain clear. “Anyone from the Azure Sword Dojo who colludes with the witch… should be killed.”

As his words fell, the Black Knight’s spiritual energy erupted, pulsing through the battlefield with newfound intensity. It was clear he had employed a secret method to amplify his power even further.

In the next heartbeat, shadow met sword light in a violent collision.

At first, the clash seemed evenly matched, the green sword lights holding their ground against the Black Knight’s shadowy assaults. But gradually, the vivid green glow began to dim, flickering like a flame nearing exhaustion. Durland’s once-strong face paled, beads of sweat forming on his brow. The strain of pushing his spirituality to the fourth-level limit had taken its toll, and his body was beginning to falter.

*Boom!*

Another savage strike landed, shattering the remaining green sword energy into fragments. Durland’s body hit the ground hard, leaving a crater in the earth. His spiritual power was now a mere shadow of what it had been, plummeting from the peak of the fourth level to a fragile state. He had pushed himself so far that his power had nearly dropped to the initial stages of the fourth level.

As the ominous shadow of the Black Knight’s sword loomed over him, Durland’s expression remained oddly indifferent. He didn’t care about his own fate. His only thought, echoing in his mind, was, *I hope Mr. Zifeng got away.*

His eyes flickered to the side, glancing toward where he last saw Ryan. What he saw next made his heart jolt, his pupils shrinking in shock.

Ryan—Mr. Zifeng—hadn’t run. He stood right there, defiant, his figure unwavering.

“*No…*” Durland thought, his calm façade cracking with a sudden wave of anxiety. But there was no time to shout a warning, no time to call out. The Shadow Sword was already bearing down on him, ready to deliver the final blow.

*Clang!*

The sharp sound of metal clashing filled the air, followed by a powerful shockwave that sent ripples through the battlefield.

In Durland’s blurred vision, Ryan’s distant figure flickered, becoming translucent for a moment. And then, in a heartbeat, his presence was solid again—right in front of Durland. The swordsman had moved so fast that it defied reason, stepping in just in time to block the Black Knight’s killing strike.

*How… how is he this fast?* Durland thought, his mind reeling. For someone who practiced wind-based swordsmanship, the idea of being outpaced was almost unthinkable. And yet, Ryan had just done the impossible.

The force of their clash sent the Fourth Black Knight staggering back, retreating several dozen meters before finally regaining his balance. His sword hand trembled, and his once-arrogant gaze was now filled with fear and disbelief as he looked at Ryan.

Ryan stood tall, his gaze steady, the massive sword in his hand glowing with dark energy. A black dragon’s soul roared within the blade, its power almost palpable as it fed off Ryan’s spirituality.

“Your opponent is me,” Ryan said, his voice calm and cold, the edge of a challenge in his tone. He took a step forward, his eyes locked on the trembling knight. “Cub.”

With every step Ryan took, the air seemed to hum with energy. The Black Knight, once so sure of his victory, now felt the tables turn. The calm confidence Ryan exuded was not bluster—it was the kind of certainty that only came from someone who had faced death countless times and emerged stronger.

The battlefield grew still, the only sound the low growl of the black dragon within Ryan’s sword, as if it, too, was eager for the fight.

The night wind swept across the land, carrying with it the biting chill of late autumn, a harbinger of the looming winter. The city gate loomed large in the distance, cloaked in shadow, where the faint light of torches barely illuminated the area.

At the city gate, a gathering storm seemed to take shape. The swirling shadows in the area churned, growing increasingly agitated, like a vortex of darkness threatening to spiral out of control. Within this turbulence, an overwhelming spiritual pressure pulsed, heavy and suffocating, yet despite the mounting force, the young man standing at its center remained utterly unmoved. His expression was calm, his posture relaxed, as though the weight of the spiritual energy pressing down around him didn’t exist at all.

Across from him stood the four Black Knights, their armor gleaming ominously under the faint light. Their faces, though obscured by helmets, betrayed a sense of deep concentration, their gazes fixed on the young swordsman before them. One of them, the leader, tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, sensing the changes in the atmosphere.

The Black Knight’s brows furrowed as he realized the intensity of his spiritual pressure should have already taken its toll. He had unleashed enough to slow the flow of Ryan’s spiritual power, a suppression that would normally cripple any normal fighter, clouding their mind, making their movements sluggish and their reactions dulled.

And yet, Ryan continued to advance towards them, unfazed, walking with a deliberate and almost leisurely stride.

The leader of the knights blinked, his eyes narrowing as they finally landed on the weapon in Ryan’s hand.

A greatsword.

The same greatsword that had deflected his earlier assault with ease. He replayed that moment in his mind, the clash of steel, the raw force that had reverberated through his arm. The impact had been brief, but the implications were unmistakable. His own sword, a prized weapon forged by royal craftsmen, had been forced back, and in that fleeting moment, he had heard something that chilled him to the bone: the anguished wail of his blade.

That sound was unmistakable. It was a sound only heard when a lesser weapon is overpowered by something far superior.

“A high-level rare artifact…” he muttered, his voice tight with disbelief.

This revelation hit the Black Knights hard. A high-level rare item was a treasure of unimaginable value. Even among the elite, fifth-tier legendary warriors were lucky if they possessed such a weapon. In the entire Augustus nation, such artifacts were revered as national treasures, the likes of which were rarely seen in battle, let alone in the hands of an outlaw.

The leader’s mind raced. How could this be? Ryan was a wanted criminal, ranked as only a second-tier threat by the intelligence they had gathered. A mere nuisance compared to the dangers they were trained to deal with. Yet, here he was, wielding a sword of immense power, a weapon that far exceeded what even they, the Black Knights, possessed.

How had they misjudged him so severely?

But now was not the time for doubts. The facts were undeniable. The man standing before them wasn’t just some outlaw. He was dangerous, possibly far more dangerous than they had ever anticipated.

The sound of Ryan’s steady footsteps grew louder as he closed the distance between them, and with each step, the tension in the air tightened. A cold sweat broke out under the leader’s armor as an unfamiliar sensation gnawed at him—a primal fear. It wasn’t the spiritual energy that filled him with dread, no, it was something else, something far more tangible. It was as though he stood at the edge of a cliff, with a beast waiting in the darkness below, jaws open wide, ready to strike.

His mind flickered back to the brief moment when their swords had clashed. The sheer force that had coursed through Ryan’s blade, the power behind his attack—it was monstrous. The kind of strength no ordinary man should possess. The leader could sense it now. This wasn’t just a battle of spiritual energy or skill. Ryan’s physical prowess alone could tear through them if they weren’t careful.

The Black Knight gritted his teeth. The sense of impending doom weighed heavily on him, but he pushed it aside. Now was not the time for hesitation. They were trained warriors, elite soldiers of the kingdom, and they would not be defeated so easily.

With a quick glance, he signaled his comrades. The time for caution had passed. If they were going to take down this monster, they would have to fight with everything they had.