Central Britannia, Lionmere.
Lancelot slowed his flight as he moved toward the northern edge of Lionmere.
The sight below made his breath catch.
Bodies lay scattered across the ground fallen soldiers, their armor broken, their lives already gone, almost all of thier bodies where no where to be found. He descended in silence, his boots touching the earth as his gaze swept over the scene.
"What happened here another wyvern? No."
…?
Lancelot instincts sharpened and his eyes hardened. "This isn't the work of monsters it must be human."
Lancelot gaze darted around the battlefield. "…Princess Emilia?"
There was no response she was nowhere to be seen. A cold realization struck him like a blade.
Someone must have captured her.
But the question is who?
Lancelot frowned slightly as the thought crossed his mind.
Who did I offend? Don't they know who I am?
He let out a quiet breath.
I am the Knight of Britannia. Lancelot Loid.
To think someone dares to toy with me like this.
His eyes slowly swept across the village. The villagers were already gathering nearby, whispering among themselves as they watched the situation unfold. Their curious gazes were fixed on him, waiting to see what would happen next.
Lancelot's expression turned calm again.
But it doesn't matter.
If someone wants to play games with me, then I will simply play along.
His lips curved into a faint smile.
After all, these villagers seem to want a show.
"Very well," he muttered quietly to himself.
"Let's give them something worth watching."
His heart began to pound violently, each beat echoing in his chest.
Damn it…
His fists tightened.
What kind of knight allows the princess he swore to protect to be captured?
"All the promises i made to her, every vow. When it mattered most… I failed in the end" . Lancelot sobing. "By now, she must regret choosing me as her knight."
The villager who were nearby began to sob and giving Lancelot reassurance that he will find her.
Electricity flared violently around Lancelot body as his restraint shattered.
"I'll find them," Lancelot said under his breath, his voice trembling with fury.
"I'll hunt every single one of them down and make them pay with their lives."
The wind roared around him.
"How far can they run?"
He scouted every corner of Lionmere, searching for even the faintest trace but found nothing.
Slowly, his gaze lifted toward the distance.
With a surge of lightning, he took off to the sky once more.
Lancelot destination was Stonecliff the closet village to Lionmere, village near the northern mountains of Britannia.
Man is the spirit of all living beings.
Spirit core holds essence and will of living beings. Some living beings are born with spirit essence, these spirit essence are inside the spirit core and only fragments of the spirit essence can be use unless they are refined to Feral Souls.
Feral Souls are essence and will of heaven and earth. Unlike Spirit Cores, they did not originate from living beings but from heaven and earth. Mountains, storms, darkness, lightning, wind, and countless other forces could give birth to Feral Souls.
Spirit sea are the bodies that gather and store the essence of man.
However, not all Spirit sea are equal.
Their capacity determined how much spirit essence a cultivator could store and how quickly it could recover after use.
Because of this, Spirit sea are divided into four grades.
S Grade Spirit sea
The rarest and most powerful type. Spirit Essence completely filled the entire Spirit sea, reaching one hundred percent capacity of the core. Cultivators with this grade possessed extremely fast essence recovery and speed thier cultivation process.
A Grade Spirit sea
Spirit essence covered eight to nine layers of the Spirit sea. These cultivators are called genius and they are worth investing on.
B Grade Spirit sea
Spirit essence covered six to seven layers. Their reserves were respectable.
C Grade Spirit sea
Spirit essence filled four to five layers. Average among cultivators.
D Grade Spirit sea
Spirit essence only covered two to three layers. This was considered the lowest grade and often limited a cultivator's potential.
S Grade Spirit sea were extremely rare very few people in the world possessed them.
Lancelot's eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered something from the past. Back then, I wanted to recruit Leywin but that fool refused immediately causing me to lose face.
Leywin was one of the rare individuals born with an S Grade Spirit sea.
And even now, Lancelot could still remember the feeling of disappointment from that day.
Lancelot Loid is a Spirit Cultivator, he possessed multiple spirit essence that have not been refined to Feral Soul. Spirit cores does not required food or cultivation resources and doesn't need essence to activate, it only consume lots of mental energy when activated and feeds on the users lifespan. The cost to feed Spirit cores forced the users to refine spirit essence into Feral Souls.
Deep inside Lancelot mind his spirit core has the shape of a sphere inside the core a wilderness that sparks endlessly with yellow lightning pure electricity, the middle side of the core was empty, clear, colorless, like glass filled with still air. It held no visible attribute and the final space in the core has over one hundred mini Lancelot sleeping.
After Lancelot finished inspecting his Spirit Core he flew to the east of Stonecliff then vanished and reappeared in the air his eyes scanned everywhere in the East of Stonecliff.
Lancelot descended slowly, landing atop a tall stone roof near the village center. From there, he observed.
Merchants closing stalls. Villagers returning home. Guards patrolling lazily.
Nothing unusual.
Lancelot rose into the air once more before descending silently, landing upon the stone ground. He sat down and crossed his legs and entered a meditative state as he turned Invinsible.
People passed by him merchants, villagers, guards yet none noticed his presence. Their gazes slid past him as if he did not exist. They could neither see nor touch him.
Damn it… I'm not thinking straight.
If i go back home now, rumors would spread, rumors about the knight who failed to protect the princess.
My reputation would collapse.
If i returned to the castle and requested knights who specialized in investigation, the rumors would be even worse. People would say the knight of Britainna is incompetent, that he needed others to clean up his mess.
Nooooo… I only have one choice.
I need to do this alone.
Lancelot steadied his breathing and began to analyze himself with ruthless clarity.
My Electricity Spirit Essence specializes in long-range offense, close-range combat, and movement.
Its power was overwhelming in battle, yet it lacked defense, healing, storage, and investigative methods.
My Invinsibility Spirit Essence specializes in infiltration.
A rare branch of investigation. It allows me to conceal my presence entirely, erasing his body until it became no different from air itself.
My final Spirit Essence can create clone....I can create up to one hundred clones. Each clone possessed same skills and techniques as me, but strength was divided. Two clones would each wield fifty percent of my power. The more clones created, the weaker each became.
Taken together…My Spirit Core abilities cover support, offense, movement, and investigation.
Lancelot eyes slowly opened.
If I sent a hundred clones to investigate all of Stonecliff, the culprit would be found without a doubt.
But there was a risk.
If the culprits realized the village was being monitored, they would become more cautious.
Lancelot exhaled slowly and a thought surfaced.
What if…
What if I combine the essence in my invisibility spirit with my cloning spirit?
If my clones become the invincible, hehe..Stonecliff would become my hunting ground.
Lancelot closed his eyes.
The air around him stilled. Deep within his mind, he control Clone Spirit essence and to roam inside Invinsibility Spirit Spirit Essence, these mini Lancelot all turned Invinsible after some minutes. One invincible clone peeled away from his seated form, followed by another, then another they emerged soundlessly, identical to him in every detail, yet each was already dissolving into nothingness the moment it formed.
Ten clones stood and it continues to increase all the way to one hundred clones.
They did not breathe. They did not cast shadows. Even the wind passed through them without disturbance.
At Lancelot's silent command, the clones dispersed.
Some slipped into narrow alleys, phasing through walls and locked doors.
Others ascended rooftops, their steps leaving no mark upon stone or tile.
A few sank into the earth itself, moving beneath the village like silent ghosts.
Stonecliff continued its daily rhythm. Merchants shouted, children laughed, guards patrolled lazily. None of them knew the village was already sealed.
From above, from below, from every direction, invisible eyes began to watch no movement in Stonecliff went unnoticed.