The Adventures of an Overpowered Knight in Another World

Chapter 709- Don’t Hurt My Brother Anymore

And more.

SLASH... SLASH... SLASH... The attacks flowed together seamlessly. Each strike landed successfully, each strike cut a chunk of Drystan’s armor.

This was not simply swordsmanship. It was a lesson. A demonstration. This was what advanced swordsmanship looked like.

Boom... Drystan staggered backward. Another strike landed with the flat of the blade against his shoulder. His body spun and before he could recover, another impact struck his ribs.

CRACK... Disturbing noise of bones being crushed, his armor dented inward. Then a third blow and then a fourth. All struck him squarely.

Forget about parrying; he was unable to see the sword strikes, much less react.

Fortunately for him, Reinhardt struck him with the flat side of his blade. Nevertheless, he was in for a world of hurt.

Each strike felt like a ten-ton hammer blow. In the blink of an eye, Drystan was covered in bruises. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips and his breathing grew ragged.

Still, the man refused to fall down, standing on his two feet with sheer willpower. Seeing this, Reinhardt’s eyes couldn’t help but shine. Truly a gem.

Although he used the flat side of his blade, it needs to be said that the power he packed was no less. That is to say, he was striking with the physical strength of a Level 8 Holy Knight. Against such overwhelming power, even the most talented of Level 7 High Ranking knights would have long succumbed to the injuries and fallen unconscious.

Yet the man hanged on, unwilling to fall. A warrior protecting what was precious to him. Even Reinhardt felt a trace of respect.

Unfortunately, the battle was over. Gentle white light erupted from his blade. Holy energy wrapped around the sword.

Under the glow of the pure white light, the entire churchyard was illuminated. Everyone widened their eyes. Even Drystan froze.

Below, observing the entire battle, Silas closed his eyes. "What would come will eventually come". He had taught Drystan everything that he could, other than advanced swordsmanship and skills.

That was because these things were a knight order’s foundation, the power on which they rely to train new knights.

For a knight order, it was their greatest treasure and pride, developed over a long period of time. Taking or copying a knight order’s swordsmanship and skills were taboo.

If found, it would incur the ire of that Knight Order. Respectable knights don’t do that either.

Silas, who belonged to the Temple of Light, taught the basic general swordsmanship that anyone can learn.

However, as a former knight himself, he could teach anything beyond that. Especially the advanced swordsmanship and skill of the Temple of Light.

So when he saw Reinhardt executing the Level 6 skill of the Holy Scripture of the Temple of Light, [Judgement Slash], he knew that the battle was over.

Reinhardt stepped forward and executed a slashing motion. The brilliant glowing sword cut through the air. It was a simple yet beautiful skill but the power it packed was terrifying.

Furthermore, at the current level of battle, it was undodgeable.

BOOM... Drystan’s sword was blasted aside. The remaining force struck his armor, sending his body flying backwards like a cannonball.

He slammed into the churchyard, creating a small crater where he crashed. Dust exploded and silence returned to the town. And just like that, the battle was decided.

.

Reinhardt stood on the rooftop, slowly sheathing his blade. Wind blew his long golden hair, giving him an aura of invulnerability. Anyone who met his eyes fell into a momentary daze.

What was power? What was aura? The knight before them perfectly displayed it all.

As for his opponent, he lay in the centre of the crater. His armor had been torn open in several places. Ordinary metal armor could never endure against the destructiveness of a Mythril blade.

Bruises covered his body and blood dripped from numerous shallow cuts. Drystan was severely injured. The outcome was clear to anyone.

Reinhardt agilely dropped down from the rooftop and landed softly in the yard. Believing that the battle was over, he stepped towards the crater.

However, "...Not yet..." A hoarse voice sounded from below.

To his surprise, the man was still moving. At some point, he had discarded his armor, his bare upper body completely visible. Blood dripped from Drystan’s body.

His skin had turned unnaturally red from excessive blood circulation caused by pushing his body far beyond its limits. The muscles throughout his body trembled violently from exhaustion and accumulated injuries. Yet the sword remained firmly gripped in his hand.

Using it as support, Drystan slowly rose from the crater. Even as his body screamed. Even as pain ravaged every inch of him, he climbed out of the crater and stood straight.

Like a proud mountain unwilling to bend.

For the first time since the battle began, Reinhardt was genuinely astonished. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.

In the final attack earlier, he had not held back. Even infusing holy energy into that strike, he had directly used the Level 6 skill [Judgement Slash] of the Temple of Light. A skill of that calibre, moreover executed by him, could directly kill some high-ranking demons.

Even a fellow Holy Knight would be gravely hurt if they were not careful.

Yet what did he see? Even after taking his strike head on, this unknown young man from a forgotten town was still standing.

This development exceeded Reinhardt’s expectations.

Drip... Drip.... Blood fell onto the shattered earth beneath Drystan’s feet. With eyes turning red from exertion, he firmly placed his gaze on Reinhardt before him.

"I’m not done yet. I’m not going down.." He refused to fall "... until I defeat you".

More blood leaked from his wounds. His vision had become blurry and his body threatened to give out at any moment. Yet his aura burned fiercely. Reinhardt stared silently.

That kind of unwillingness to surrender, stubbornness to kneel and refusal to admit the reality. This was the kind of determination that could only be possessed by those who carried too much on their shoulders.

For a brief moment, he saw his own shadow in the other party.

He was just to speak, when...

"STOP!"

A familiar voice intervened. A lithe figure rushed forward and appeared before him. Blonde platinum hair danced in the night breeze.

A white dress fluttered as she stood directly between them. Her arms spread wide, shielding the injured man behind her. Reinhardt’s eyes landed on the figure.

Needless to say, the figure was none other than Aurelia. For the first time since meeting her, that warm smile that could soothe one soul was not present in her face. Her gentle presence that could brighten a room was gone, replaced by tears streaking down her cheeks.

Her eyes glistened with a firmness Reinhardt had never seen.

"Don’t hurt my brother anymore." She stood there, with her arms wide, shielding the man behind her.

Tiny figures stood beside her. The children from the church.

"Big brother Drystan."

"Please don’t hurt him."

"Please."

Just like Aurelia, they courageously stood before him, protecting Drystan behind them.

"Brother?"

Reinhardt muttered. His eyes shifted between Aurelia and Drystan. Beneath their vastly different expressions, he could indeed notice some subtle similarities.

They were actually siblings.

At that moment, the townspeople also stepped forward. One after another, they stood beside Aurelia and Drystan.

"Sir Knight... please forgive Drystan." Granny Maribel bowed her head.

"Please don’t hurt him anymore." Farmer Hector pleaded.

Another stepped forward.

"We’ll give you everything we have. Take our money. Take our crops. But please... please don’t hurt them."

More voices joined in.

"Please spare him."

"He isn’t a bad person."

"He protects this town."

Reinhardt gazed at the townfolk. With a casual glance, he could see the fear in them. However, it was not due to Drystan, but from... him!

Witnessing this scene, he stood there in silence, not knowing what to do. He had come here carrying the authority of the Council. The intelligence provided to him reported the many heinous charges against the criminals before him.

No matter how you saw it, he stood at the side of justice. So why, standing amidst these frightened villagers, surrounded by children shielding a wounded man and listening to elderly people beg him with tears in their eyes, had he become the villain?

The scene hit him harder than any attack during tonight’s battle.

The cool night wind blew past him, bringing a cold, late realization.

It was not that they looked at him as if he were a bad guy; he was the bad guy for them. The justice he believed was flawed from the start.

From the beginning, he stood on the wrong side. It was only now that he gained clarity. The mission that had brought him here. The mission given by the Council of Elders. The intelligence and the various crimes pinned on the group before him.

Perhaps it was all wrong from the start.

Reinhardt stood in silence, his gaze lingering on the trembling figures before him.