Chapter Twenty-Five: The Unattained Quintuple Kill

Cromwell and the four knights closing in meant Andy could no longer cast his spells at leisure. If not for the fact that the chief knight had been struck by Andy’s fireball and suffered a leg injury, slowing him down, they would almost have managed to encircle Andy completely.

“Uh, I can’t hold them off much longer. Catherine, quick, trigger the Silent Killing Spell!” Sensing the dire situation, Andy called for help without hesitation.

“Meow meow!” Who knows how magical incantations are accomplished through a cat’s cries. Yet, after two sharp meows from Catherine, a thick mist began to gather in the courtyard, water vapor coalescing rapidly until the fog grew so dense that nothing could be seen beyond three meters.

Level 2 Sorcery: “Mist Veil.”

The dense fog obscured the pursuers’ vision, but Cromwell and the four knights didn’t halt their advance. As knights, their senses were keen—locating enemies by the sound of the wind was child’s play. They could even block crossbow bolts shot from behind relying on hearing alone. But by the time Catherine’s spell had cooled down and she cast “Silence,” the knights were left utterly bewildered, stumbling about like headless flies.

“Hey, why do you insist on calling my combination of Mist Veil and Silence the Silent Killing Spell?” Catherine asked as soon as she finished casting.

“As for the Silent Killing Spell, it’s tied to a story about bonds—I’ll tell you later!” Andy replied, activating his master-level “Concealment” spell amidst the fog. “For now, let’s see whether our magic truly lives up to the name of silent killing.”

Thanks to the Silence spell, Andy and Catherine’s conversation went unheard by the knights. Once Andy activated Concealment, the mist, the darkness, and the magic made him vanish entirely from their senses.

A piercing scream suddenly echoed through the fog. Slowly, Andy withdrew the “Sword of Judgement” he had picked up from the viscount’s study from the back of a guardian knight. This time, he felt no discomfort from killing. Instead, he remarked to Catherine with interest, “See? When the surroundings are suitable, silent killing is nothing more than a simple ‘sword thrust.’”

“Meow, but he screamed!” Catherine pointed out, “Even if no one else heard.”

“Uh, don’t sweat the details,” Andy replied, slinking off towards another guardian knight. Before long—

“Double kill!”

“Triple kill!”

With each unfamiliar word that Catherine couldn’t comprehend, Andy continued his merciless ambushes, unseen by any. When the last of the three guardian knights—a lanky fellow—fell, Catherine warned, “The spell’s about to expire, Andy!”

“Quadruple kill!” As the mist finally dispersed, Cromwell caught sight of Andy withdrawing his blood-stained blade from Little MacKen, whose eyes stared wide in disbelief as he slumped to the ground, never to move again.

“Argh!” Cromwell howled in rage at the loss of four knights in such a short span, then turned and fled. A veteran of countless battles, he knew well when to risk everything and when to retreat. Now, with no allies left and his wounds severe, his only choice was to escape. As he ran, he swore silently that he would repay today’s humiliation a hundredfold.

The tremors in the ground began to subside, signaling the earthquake’s end. Andy pursued the chief knight, launching near-instantaneous Firebolts at Cromwell, worsening his injuries.

He could have escaped safely now—there was no one left in the manor who could stop him. But with the upper hand, why retreat? Better to seize the chance and wipe out the enemy, fighting to his heart’s content!

Ever since he’d arrived in this world, since discovering someone had tried to poison him, Andy’s nerves had been taut, the fire within him ever smoldering. The slaughter of the Phillips family and Old Brown’s murder had only deepened his hatred for those in the manor. So he killed without hesitation, and set fires with no remorse.

Cromwell’s wounds grew graver with each passing moment. Andy was confident that even at close quarters, with both the knight’s skills and his own relentless firepower, he could finish the job. Yet he remained cautious, keeping his distance—after all, Cromwell was a grand knight, and who knew what tricks he still had up his sleeve? There was no need to rush in when spells cost him nothing. Maintaining his distance, Andy leisurely loosed Firebolt after Firebolt at his foe.

“Too bad, I took too long—can’t count that as a pentakill,” Andy quipped to Catherine during the chase, his tone almost playful. The pursuit dragged on, turning into a game of cat and mouse. Cromwell’s speed dwindled to that of an ordinary man, stumbling and faltering. Andy, meanwhile, never aimed for the vital points, prolonging his torment. If not for Cromwell’s iron will, honed through a lifetime of battles, he would have broken long ago.

When the manor’s main force of guards finally arrived, they could scarcely believe their eyes. Was this battered, bloodied figure running toward them truly the once-invincible Grand Knight Cromwell?

Cromwell spotted the guards, and in his eyes, despair was suddenly replaced by hope. “Stop him! Hurry!” he shouted. But even as he called out, a chill ran down his spine. Andy, noticing the guards’ arrival and losing interest in the chase, incanted Fireball and hurled it straight at Cromwell’s back.

“Game over! ...What the—” Andy barely had time to celebrate before he was stunned by what he saw. In a last burst of desperation, Cromwell tapped into hidden reserves of strength, charging into the ranks of the guards and seizing one as a human shield, blocking Andy’s Fireball.

“Quick, all of you, stop him!” Cromwell shouted.

But the guards, instead of advancing, instinctively shrank back, edging away from the grand knight.

“You’re ruthless!” Andy muttered, preparing another spell. Cromwell, desperate now, cut down the nearest guard with a single blow, roaring, “Disobey and die!” The others retreated even farther.

Boom—a Fireball struck Cromwell, sending him sprawling, limbs twitching uncontrollably. He struggled to rise, tried and failed several times, glancing around in confusion, hoping for aid. He lifted a hand toward the guards, eyes pleading, but every one of them looked away, not daring to approach.

At last, another Fireball struck, and then another…

With Grand Knight Cromwell dispatched, Andy toyed with the flickering flames in one hand, pointed at the hesitant guards with the other, and declared imperiously,

“Those who stand in my way shall die!”

At that moment, the earthquake finally, completely subsided.