"You know we can't fight them off, right? They seem quite powerful."
Daylan stretched slightly, nerves creeping in behind his faint smile. "I know. That's why you're here with me. They can't kill me as long as you're around… right?"
They stood about a mile away from their entrance. Without a word, Astara strode forward and despite trembling in his boat, he casually followed suit.
Four black carriages stood at the mansion's entrance, and twelve men in black waited in silence. One of them exuded dominance, casually leaning against a carriage, a cigar resting between his fingers, flanked by four others like a silent entourage.The rough wind whipped through his hair, ruffling it with careless force.
As Daylan drew closer, fear tightened in his chest. His fingers twitched, and sweat clung to his skin. If Astara's presence wasn't enough to hold their attention, he knew this could very well be the end of him.
The moment their presence was noticed, three of the men began approaching. Their expressions were fierce—one cracked his knuckles while the others drew their weapons.
Daylan raised his hands with an awkward smile, shooting a glance at Astara, silently begging her to say something.
The moment they spotted Astara, the men froze in hesitation. Daylan turned to her with a strained smile, his eyes squinting. "Great job," he muttered. "Now be a darling and tell me when Medora's showing up with the squads." His grin widened, though tension still clung to his voice.
Daylan stood still, hands raised, with Astara by his side as the men slowly approached them.
The Bastian dropped his cigar, his gaze fixed on Daylan. "So, I finally got to meet you… You're the one who killed my nephew, aren't you?"
Daylan remained still, his eyes locked with the Bastian's.
"Don't tell me you think the princess will save you," he sneered. "I've got business with her too—but that can wait. All that royalty nonsense is such a pain." He spat.
"You do know I'm standing right here, don't you?"
The Bastian's expression suddenly shifted as he signaled for Astara to be captured. Daylan quickly shot her a silent look, warning her not to retaliate.
He rolled up his sleeves and strode toward Daylan, hands still raised. Every step exuded readiness, his muscles tense and prepared to deliver a brutal blow. Though panic surged within him, Daylan managed to keep his composure.
Energy Manifest
In the blink of an eye, his fist crashed into Daylan's face. Another strike followed before Daylan could even catch his breath. Then another. Each blow landed with brutal precision—even when Daylan was just out of reach, the man somehow closed the gap and struck with perfect accuracy.
Though Daylan couldn't feel any pain, he could tell the man's strikes were brutal—powerful enough to leave him in agony if his ability hadn't been active. And while it went without saying that, with such precision and accuracy, Daylan could've won if he fought back, it wouldn't have been an easy victory.
He continued taking the blows, feigning pain with each hit, all while silently reactivating his ability each time it faded. Despite the growing urge to fight back, he held himself in check.
After a while, Daylan glanced at Astara. She gave him a firm nod. At once, he dropped to his knees, blood trickling from his mouth and nose, his body covered in bruises.
The Bastian sneered. "C'mon," he said, driving his foot into Daylan's gut. "I heard you were supposed to be strong…" He paused, resting his chin on his hand in mock thought.
"Was it all just hype—or have I gotten stronger?" He shrugged. "Never mind." Then kicked Daylan again, harder this time.
Daylan stayed down, pretending to be overwhelmed by the pain, gasping for air—barely clinging to life, or at least making it look that way.
"Ah, well. If you won't fight back then let me end it for you."
He extended his hand, and a revolver materialized in his grip. Without hesitation, he aimed it at Daylan's head. Daylan's heart pounded as he silently repeated, please…please… over and over.
"Stop!!" Astara shouted.
He turned to her. "Shut up… bitch."
Before he could pull the trigger, the guards closed in—flashes of light cutting through the tension, blinding their eyes. Medora and Captain Rhea strode forward with purpose.
Daylan, still on the ground, rejoiced in silence.
"Stand down, Cillian Bastian," Captain Rhea barked. "One more move, and this ends in blood."
Cillian's revolver vanished in an instant as he raised his hands in surrender. Without wasting a second, Medora rushed to Daylan's side and began healing him, her hands glowing softly as she worked.
Astara was freed instantly as the guards moved in, swiftly arresting Cillian and his men. They complied without hesitation, knowing they had no other choice.
"You're charged with attempted murder against a Chivalry and the unlawful restraint of the Princess," the captain declared. Cillian clenched his fists, sneering. "Tsk… you fool. You think this will stop us?"
Daylan knew that this wasn't enough to stop the Bastains for good, but it would buy him time. Time to gather enough influence to finally rid himself of them for good.
Daylan rose to his feet with a smirk, feeling an unfamiliar surge of energy. He knew all too well how badly things could've gone if Astara hadn't spoken up when she did.
Captain Rhea walked Daylan. "Hope you are good?" Daylan gave a firm nod. "Okay, then I will be taking your statement."
Daylan explained everything to her. He knew there were people in front of the house because Astara had sensed them. The situation could've been dangerous, and he wasn't about to take any chances. He decided to involve the guards, knowing full well that he, Astara, and Medora weren't on Chivalry duties and couldn't handle matters themselves. That's why he took the precaution to involve them.
He continued, his tone a little heavier. He didn't know why they were attacked, but he recalled what his lieutenant had once told him—that the Bastian family blamed him for the death of their member, Slater Bastian, even though his hands were clean.
Captain Rhea took note of everything, observing the pretend pain and subtle emotions Daylan displayed.
She then moved toward Astara, but the princess refused to speak, claiming she was traumatized by the incident. With a resigned sigh, Captain Rhea had no choice but to respect her silence.
Captain Rhea smirked, offering her goodbyes before driving the captives away in their carriages. Daylan stood there, watching them roll off with a lazy, almost indifferent expression.
Without a word exchanged, they turned and made their way back into the house. Daylan remained in character, keeping up the act as they walked, ensuring that his cover wasn't blown if any guards were still nearby, trying to gauge a different reaction from him.
"You know I could hear them, even the slowest breath if any of them were still around, right?"
Daylan grinned, his eyes squinting.
The moment they entered, he hurled himself into a sofa.
"You know I can't heal every wound yet, right?" Medora asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Daylan gave a lazy growl, flashing Medora a thumbs up. Medora walked past him and headed to her room.
"I know now… I would've won. Cillian had insane accuracy, and his Worth artifact was a revolver. His jabs, stance, and movements showed he was skilled in close combat. But unless he had a Luck or Fate ability, a revolver alone wouldn't have been enough to stop me." He smirked.
Astara took her seat.
"You do realize precision and accuracy could be the result of a Luck ability, right? Anyway, how is this supposed to stop the Bastians? I've told you before—the great families operate far beyond my parents' reach."
Daylan sank into the sofa with a soft chuckle.
"I know… but the families aren't above the Church, are they? Besides, the Bastians care a great deal about their public image—that's what they've spent centuries building. Attacking me now, knowing they'd be the prime suspects if I end up dead, isn't a risk they'd take lightly."
Astara got to her feet. "If you say so…" she said and walked to her room.
Daylan gazed at the ceiling, his thoughts torn between the calm he'd felt earlier and the chaos that followed.
He knew this had all been part of his plan—but if Cillian and his men had caught them inside the house, things would've played out very differently.
He lay down in silence, letting his thoughts, doubts, and fears slowly settle. Just as a sense of calm began to wash over him, the system screen appeared before his eyes.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
New Task Available.
Objective: [450 push-ups. 450 sit-ups. 1 hour shadowboxing.]
Duration: [3 hours.]
Warning: Refusal to complete the task by the given time will result in an equivalent penalty.
Daylan sighed.
You really don't know how to let someone have a moment's peace, do you? I hate you just as much as I hated my old boss… just drop dead already.