Hate me, Miss Witch!

The crimson blade drew a magnificent, perfectly natural arc in mid-air. Like a blood-red rainbow, it descended straight toward Riel's figure.

Seeing that piercing sharpness coming through the air, a hint of confusion flickered in Riel's eyes.

In the Western Continent, there was no shortage of strong sword users. However, the vast majority were dual practitioners of magic and martial arts. For example, they might wrap the flames of a Fire-type Pet Beast around their Sacred Relic greatsword, making each cut an enchanted attack of Fire Elements, utterly unstoppable.

But from this sword strike, Riel clearly did not sense any fluctuations of Elements or Spells—it was merely the most ordinary slash.

Such a simple slash aimed to stop him?

Riel's figure suddenly accelerated, like a ghost in the night, his steps elusive.

The next moment, the figure in the tailcoat blurred and divided into three phantoms.

He did not believe Shiayar's plain sword strike could hurt him, a Titled Rank Beastmaster, but Riel still chose not to take it head-on.

This was the Phantom Fox's racial skill, "Phantom Body."

As the name implied, once activated, it could divide into several avatars resembling phantoms.

If it were merely a ruse to confuse the eyes, it wouldn't hold much practical significance; too many abilities could see through such Illusion Techniques.

However, the Phantom Fox's Phantom Body, though called an avatar, could also be regarded as a physical entity.

Or rather, even if it was a false body a moment before, with a single thought, the false body could become the real body.

This was the origin of Riel's title, "Silver Fox"—skilled in deceit and exceedingly cunning. This name alone made countless enemies of the Borgia family shudder in fear.

Many had believed they had seen through Riel's disguise. They would confidently attack what they thought was his real body, only to miss and stagger, then be killed by Riel in one strike.

This time, facing a youth who had just broken through to the 4-Ring level, would naturally be no different.

But a fraction of a second later, that crimson, blood-like and ink-dark sword light once again entered Riel's eyes.

The sword's edge blurred and fanned out, scattering into three trajectories.

Second Flash.

Upon the foundation of the initial arcing slash, two more trajectories appeared: one descended from above, while the other sealed off the left and right.

Like the bars of a cage, these trajectories completely sealed off all three avatars Riel had created, leaving no room for maneuver.

Also an illusion?

This was the first reaction in Riel's mind.

But the next moment, he felt the distinct sensation of being cut, intense pain lancing through his body.

Riel was not a Beastmaster specializing in close combat. Because of his "Phantom Body" skill, he had allocated all his attribute points to Attack and Agility.

Nevertheless, his was a bona fide 6-Ring body, its physical attributes enhanced through six Soul Pacts.

Yet, a youth who had just broken through to the 4-Ring level had so easily breached his defenses.

Since this is the case—I'll switch to another Phantom Body. Riel's thoughts stirred; a blurry phantom gradually sharpened, solidifying into substance.

However, the searing pain from the sharp sword energy did not diminish in the slightest.

How is this possible!

Riel's eyes widened in shock.

Defying human cognition— No, defying the laws of the world.

It disregarded the concepts of time and space, superimposing three slashes in the exact same instant.

It was no illusion; all three slashes were real.

There was no gap to dodge, nor the slightest chance to defend.

The next moment, the crimson slash engulfed him.

...

THUD—

A heavy object fell to the ground, emitting a muffled sound.

That had once been the thing known as Riel.

But now, it was merely a lifeless corpse.

Deathly silence pervaded the air.

The entire process seemed complicated, but in reality, it all happened in less time than it took for three breaths.

Just a moment before, everyone was still reeling from the shock of Riel, who, while feigning to help Histanlia, had suddenly erupted in violence.

Many guests inclined towards the Royal Family subconsciously wanted to intervene but were subtly delayed by the guests on the side of the old nobility.

Though smiles were aplenty on the surface, as figures atop the entire Empire's power hierarchy, many saw the situation very clearly.

After Shiayar uttered the words, "Debts must be repaid, and murder avenged," he had become a significant threat to the Borgia family and even the entire old nobility system.

They were unwilling to risk facing the Second Princess's wrath by moving against Shiayar themselves. Of course, they were happy to let Riel succeed and reap the benefits.

But who could have anticipated it? In the blink of an eye, Riel, a Titled Rank Beastmaster—a head steward who commanded the respect of many established nobles—was reduced to a cold corpse.

Shiayar looked down at the lifeless corpse before him, the crimson light in his eyes slowly dissipating.

Divine Evasion.

According to traditional Beastmaster concepts, including what was shown on system panels, the proficiency limit of a single Pet Beast skill was "Superb Achievement," followed by "Extraordinary Sainthood."

However, this did not mean that once one reached "Extraordinary Sainthood," there was no room for further improvement.

After sacrificing fifteen Sands of Time, Shiayar had taken "Slash"—a skill that had already reached perfection and was nearing true completion—as the foundation and sublimated it into "Divine Evasion."

This was the first super-tier skill Crimson and Shiayar had mastered. Of course, now that Shiayar had broken through to 4-Ring, "Amaterasu" had also ascended from 'quasi-super-tier' to 'super-tier.'

"Divine Evasion," derived from "Slash" at its root, might have seemed like just a plain sword swing.

But as a true super-tier skill, its characteristic was singular: it could not be dodged; it would always hit.

It was like the mythical lance from ancient legends, capable of reversing causality.

The moment the sword was swung, Riel's fate—to be struck by its edge—was sealed. Escape was impossible unless one possessed a power capable of interfering with destiny itself.

"This is the second one."

Shiayar's soft words echoed throughout the hall.

In that moment, everyone understood the meaning behind his words.

Riel was the head steward of the Borgia family, and most affairs of the Scarlet Rose passed through his hands. For instance, the letter that had incited Warwick was personally dispatched by Riel.

And now, this head steward, who had loyally served the Crimson Rose Family for decades, had followed in Warwick's footsteps.

Shiayar's gaze swept across the distant guests, eerily calm.

Those Borgia family members who had been eager to act now hesitated.

They could see, of course, that Riel had underestimated his opponent, believing he could easily defeat Shiayar without even summoning a Pet Beast.

And it was precisely Shiayar's Sword Technique that had perfectly countered Riel's abilities, leading to such a tragic end. In Beastmaster combat, victories by the weaker over the stronger were not uncommon due to the inherent frailty of their own bodies.

But still, they were deterred.

A Titled Rank Beastmaster had died so inexplicably; who could guarantee Shiayar wouldn't reveal another ace up his sleeve if they made a move?

Her golden locks billowing, Enola approached Shiayar.

Her silver-white Knight's Lance slanted towards the crowd, illusory auroras gathering at its tip.

As if sensing its master's will, the Knight's Lance named Rhongomyniad pulsed with a scorching silver glow.

An ancient, immense mystery was awakening within this Knight's Lance.

Others might gossip about her identity as the orphan of the Winter Flower, but in Enola's heart, there had never been a shred of hesitation.

It was a promise they had made many years ago, the day she entrusted her life to the youth before her.

So, no matter what decisions Shiayar made, Enola would follow him, clearing any obstacles from his path—through poverty and wealth, until death itself.

It mattered not if she had to face mountains of blades, seas of fire, or countless armies.