However.
Amid the astonished gazes of everyone present, the youth wearing a half-face mask and clutching a tattered knight’s sword delivered a plain, unadorned slash. Incredibly, it sliced right across the Cyclops’s eyelid. Blood spurted out in an instant, even disrupting the supernatural ability it had been on the verge of unleashing.
The Cyclops unleashed a shrill roar that shook the heavens!!!
Adel stared at the youth standing not far away. In truth, she was the most shocked of all.
For one thing, she hadn’t even registered when the boy beside her had dashed forward—such blinding speed. For another, she marveled at this technique-less barrage of raw, shocking violence. What on earth was it?
If her memory served her right, hadn’t his keystone shown almost no glow at all during the supernatural ability test just moments ago? His body should have been frail, practically bedridden…
And yet… how had he managed to wound a mid-level Titan—a Cyclops, no less?
This defied all logic!
“Could the keystone be faulty?”
“No, no! That’s the largest and most precise keystone the Knight Academy has ever had since its founding… It couldn’t possibly malfunction.”
Bell Hodhua, too, struggled to hold onto his consciousness. With blurred vision, he fixed his gaze on the youth before him. What was this guy’s deal? The Cyclops that had floored him in a single blow had been cut by this boy.
A human?
Or a member of the Blood Race?
“Hmph! Behold the mystic art of this young master’s Acrobatic Swordsmanship—Great Power Creates Miracles!”
Inner thoughts?
Hardly.
In a clash between major factions, the youth might have weighed the risks. But this? A mere wild beast assaulting a Blood Race member—did that even require consideration? He had always believed every teenager harbored a spark of justice deep inside, even if age eventually buried it.
Just then.
The Cyclops seemed to regain its senses. Its wounded eyeball sent it into a frenzy, redirecting its fury toward Sang. The creature’s nearly ten-meter frame, rippling with explosive muscles, hammered fist after fist at him. Sang held his ground, evading with his astonishing dynamic vision and nimble form.
The opponent’s strikes came fast, but the youth still spotted fleeting openings, landing counterblows where he could.
“Don’t underestimate me—I’ve been drilling swordsmanship every single day!”
As the fight dragged on, wounds multiplied across the Cyclops’s arms.
From a short distance away, Luna and Adolf watched the scene unfold. Shock etched their faces in unison. They had no idea who this masked figure was, but his prowess was beyond question… This was the level of a Silver-Rank Knight.
That build, that skin—he looked like a boy in his mid-teens… and no Blood Eyes in sight. Could he truly be human?
A Blood Race member who appeared in their teens might actually be over a century old; such strength wouldn’t surprise anyone. But this one hadn’t activated his Blood Eyes—and Blood Race always did so in battle…
“This… he’s human!”
What Adolf struggled to accept was that the youth in combat showed no sign of proper training. He flailed his sword wildly, barely qualifying as swordplay.
And yet.
That very wild flailing let him go toe-to-toe with a mid-level Titan—the stuff of Gold Tier Knight graduation trials. Even without victory, holding his own like this was absurd.
Adolf was the Chief Seat among this year’s freshmen. He’d even bested mid-grade students beyond his year. Lately, amid waves of admiration, he’d grown arrogant, losing sight of himself… But now, this wildcard who appeared out of nowhere displayed power far beyond his own.
In that instant, Adolf felt like his title as a once-in-a-century human sword genius was a cruel joke.
Worse still—what gnawed at him was his own recent breach of the Knight’s Way. He’d abandoned Bell Hodhua to die. Yet this human boy had intervened… The irony cut deepest of all.
The focus returned to Sang’s duel with the Cyclops.
Sang kept carving into the beast, but its hide was leather-thick. Nothing but surface scratches—no penetration to muscle.
Put simply: Sang couldn’t win. He could only trade a few blows.
Time slipped away, his stamina steadily draining.
In that moment, a fierce gust whipped through the air, severing the Cyclops’s head clean off. No one else caught a glimpse of what happened—only Sang knew. The next instant, he whipped around to see Snow Hill standing nearby… In the blink of an eye, she had already sheathed her sword.
Had Snow Hill robbed Sang of his fight with the Cyclops? Did it irk him?
Not at all!
Sang entertained no such notion. He wasn’t some knight, and even knights teamed up against Titans. If anything, he wished she’d struck sooner—this exhaustion was killing him.
Sister, why’d you take so long?!
As everyone on the scene puzzled over who had slain the Cyclops, Snow Hill bounded forward in a swift, graceful leap. She arrived at Sang’s side and swept him into a princess carry, like a knight rescuing royalty. With quiet speed, she spirited him away from the Knight Academy.
Sang stacked his arms under his chin, gazing up at Snow Hill with wide eyes. “…”
He had to admit—juxtaposed against this 1.87-meter girl, his 1.6-meter frame made him look every bit the dainty princess…
Scooped up in Snow Hill’s princess carry, a genuine flutter stirred in Sang’s heart. Could this be… this old man’s maiden sentiments~?
He stared at her, viewing her through a lover’s eyes: that exquisite chin, sharply contoured yet flawless, without a single pore. Strands of ice-blue hair drifted onto him, brushing his skin now and then with a cool tingle.
Another serene, picturesque dusk. The sun dipped westward as Snow Hill cradled Sang horizontally, darting at high speed over the rooftops of Knight Academy City.
He lost track of time before snapping back to reality. Grasping for small talk, he asked, “You saw my scrap with the Titan, right? What level would you peg my strength at?”
“Don’t know…”
Snow Hill glanced down at the boy in her arms, shaking her head gently. Her ice-blue eyes gleamed beautifully as she added, “But… that human girl said it was a Titan from the Gold Tier exam… You couldn’t beat it, but you held out for a bit. Probably Bronze Rank… no, Silver…”
Truth be told.
In Snow Hill’s eyes, Gold Tier or Platinum Tier alike were all rookies. She held no particular high regard for them.
Out of courtesy, she held her tongue on the blunt assessment: total trash.
She’d started to say Bronze, but Silver felt like the kinder option, so she adjusted.
Sang wasn’t thick-skulled. Even unspoken, he read her intent. Under the sunset’s veil, his face heated up. At last, he blurted, “Okay, we’re far enough now. You can set me down.”
Good lord!!!
How had he turned into such a total girl!?
Snow Hill’s emotional intelligence had always been an enigma. When someone masked every feeling behind impeccable noble poise, their true EQ stayed hidden.
This time.
Sang couldn’t tell if she genuinely missed his embarrassment or played it deliberate. He only heard her reply, “We’re still a few hundred meters from the inn. Let me just drop you there… it’ll be quicker…”
Later on.
Sang would learn the truth: Snow Hill had noticed his fatigue from the fight and insisted on escorting him back. She was an ice sculpture through and through—pristine and transparent, her thoughts as clear as the crystal.
