The Holy Knights were stunned by their king's words, and confusion spread across their faces as they looked at him, their pride refusing to accept what they had just heard, yet their instincts as trained warriors forced them to remain silent for a moment as they waited for him to continue, because never before had they seen their king stop one of them from advancing in the face of an enemy, especially not an enemy who had just taken the life of one of their own.
"My King?" one of them finally asked, his voice uncertain yet restrained, as if afraid that speaking too much would break whatever fragile understanding was forming in the air.
Guren did not answer immediately, and instead his gaze lowered slightly toward the side where Clay and Cerys stood, and when the Holy Knights followed his line of sight, their eyes fell upon the ground where the lifeless body of their comrade remained, or rather, what was left of it, and when they saw clearly, their expressions changed in an instant.
There was no head.
The armor was broken.
The body lay still.
"Reynold…" one of them whispered, his voice trembling despite his effort to stay composed, and then another knight stepped forward, his expression twisting into rage as he pointed his blade toward Clay and Cerys.
"You bastards!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber as grief turned into fury, "you will pay for this, you will pay with your lives for what you have done to him!"
Others began to move as well, their emotions rising, their discipline barely holding them back as they prepared to charge forward, but before they could act, Guren's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Do not act recklessly."
The command was calm, yet absolute.
It froze them in place.
"Be serious," Guren continued, his tone heavier now, carrying a weight that forced them to listen, "they are a threat, and not one you can handle through anger alone, because what stands before us is not something we can judge through ordinary means."
He stepped forward slightly, his gaze still fixed on Clay and Cerys.
"I cannot revive him," he said, and for the first time, there was something in his voice that hinted at unease, "and that is not due to a lack of power, but because his soul itself has been separated, as if something cut through not just his body but his very existence, leaving nothing for me to call back."
The Holy Knights stiffened.
Shock spread among them.
A death that even their king could not undo was something they had never considered possible.
Their eyes slowly turned toward Cerys.
This time, not with anger alone.
But with fear.
Guren spoke again.
"That maid," he said, his gaze narrowing slightly, "makes my instincts scream of danger as well, and that alone is enough reason for you to remain cautious, so listen to me carefully, do not underestimate them, and do not act without thought, because one mistake here will cost more lives than we can afford to lose."
The Holy Knights bowed their heads.
"Yes, Your Majesty," they said in unison, their voices steady once more, though the tension in their bodies remained.
Then one of them stepped forward again, his voice cold now, directed toward Clay.
"Traitor," he said, "you who dared to raise your hand against the king, if you come any closer, you will surely die, and this time there will be no hesitation from any of us."
Guren closed his eyes briefly.
Then he opened them again.
His gaze locked onto Clay.
"Tell me," he said, his voice calm but firm, "Clay Valmont of House Valmont, am I correct?"
Clay, who had been preparing to retreat with Cerys while keeping his expression steady, stopped for a moment and responded with a simple tone.
"Yeah?"
Guren's eyes did not leave him.
"What is it that you want," he asked slowly, "that you would go so far as to kill one of my Holy Knights and lure me into this dungeon, what is your purpose, and what did you hope to achieve through such an act?"
Before Clay could respond, a deep roar suddenly echoed through the chamber.
The Minotaur.
Its voice thundered against the walls, shaking the air itself, and for a moment, everyone's attention snapped back to the massive creature that had been almost forgotten in the tension between humans.
Guren's expression hardened.
The Minotaur was not looking at him.
It was not preparing to attack him.
Its gaze remained fixed on Clay.
Always on Clay.
Guren's eyes narrowed further.
"To command a dungeon beast of this level," he said slowly, as if piecing together a conclusion in his mind, "one that can adapt to any attack and has already proven capable of overwhelming my knights, is not something an ordinary cultivator can achieve, which means what I am seeing now is not the full picture."
Clay felt a twitch in his expression.
Command?
Who?
But he did not say anything.
He let it continue.
Because correcting this misunderstanding would only make things worse.
Beside him, Cerys spoke, her tone filled with confidence that bordered on arrogance.
"Heh," she said, "Young Master does not need to command anything, he can deal with all of you with just a single finger if he wishes."
The Holy Knights reacted immediately, anger flaring once more, but Guren raised a hand slightly, stopping them again as his gaze remained fixed on Clay.
He was observing.
Measuring.
Trying to see through him.
"I can sense your realm," Guren said after a moment, his voice thoughtful now, "and yet, it does not match what I am witnessing, because the presence you show is far too shallow compared to the influence you exert over this creature, which leads me to believe that you are suppressing your true realm of cultivated mana, hiding it beneath a layer that cannot be easily detected."
Clay felt a drop of sweat slide down his back.
He said nothing.
He simply stood there.
Letting it happen.
"Valmont family," Guren continued, his tone carrying a hint of realization, "you have hidden yourselves well, far better than I had imagined, to think that your fourth young master, the one considered favored yet unremarkable, would turn out to be a hidden dragon."
Cerys nodded slightly, as if agreeing with that statement completely.
To her, this was not an exaggeration.
It was the truth.
Clay, however, remained silent.
The Minotaur roared again.
Louder this time.
The ground trembled.
The Holy Knights instinctively stepped back, their formation tightening, but before anything else could happen, Clay spoke.
"Shut up."
The word came out flat.
Simple.
Yet—
The Minotaur's roar stopped.
Just like that.
Its mouth remained open for a brief moment before it slowly closed, as if something had forced it to obey.
The chamber fell into silence.
The Holy Knights stared.
Guren's eyes widened slightly, though he quickly regained control of his expression.
Such a creature.
Listening to him.
Without resistance.
Without hesitation.
Clay looked at Guren.
He made a decision.
If they already believe it, then I will use it.
"At least you understand," Clay said, his tone calm, though a faint trace of sarcasm lingered in his voice, "Your Majesty."
He took a step forward.
Slowly.
"I was originally not interested in causing trouble," he continued, "I only wanted to live quietly, away from all the noise, away from politics, away from pointless struggles, but you decided to tie me to that girl with the so called Absolute Ice Body, forcing a connection that I never asked for, and now you are surprised that I chose to remove myself from that situation in my own way."
Another step.
"And as for what happened here," he added, glancing briefly toward the fallen knight, "consider it a demonstration rather than a warning, because if I truly intended to harm you or your people, the outcome would have been far worse than this."
Cerys followed him closely.
Her presence remained sharp.
Protective.
"Cancel the marriage," Clay said, his voice steady, "and there will be no further problems between us, you and your kingdom can continue as you wish, and I will remain far away, living my life without interfering in yours."
He placed his hands in his pockets.
"If not," he added calmly, "then you should be prepared for unnecessary consequences that you may not be able to handle."
He paused.
Then he spoke again, almost casually.
"And do not inform my father about this, I have no interest in dealing with his politics or your games, I only want peace, and if you allow me that, then I will be grateful enough to leave everything as it is."
He turned.
Without waiting for a response.
He walked past them.
Cerys followed.
Neither the knights nor Guren moved to stop them.
Because none of them were certain they could.
Outside, more soldiers waited.
More knights.
More eyes turned toward him as he emerged from the dungeon, their expressions filled with confusion and disbelief.
Then—
"Young Master?" one of the garrison soldiers said, recognizing him, his voice filled with surprise.
Clay did not stop.
"Prepare a horse," he said simply.
The soldier hesitated for only a moment before obeying.
Soon, a horse was brought.
Clay mounted it.
Cerys climbed behind him.
And without another word, they rode away.
Leaving behind questions that none of them could answer.
…
Inside the dungeon, silence lingered for a moment after they left.
Then—
The Minotaur exhaled heavily.
Smoke burst from its nostrils.
It stomped once.
Then it turned.
And it left.
Without another glance.
The Holy Knights remained still for a moment.
Then slowly, they let out a breath they did not realize they were holding.
Relief.
Mixed with confusion.
"My King," one of them said quietly, "what should we do now?"
Guren did not answer immediately.
His gaze moved to the fallen knight.
Reynold.
"To think," Guren said slowly, "that the Valmont family has been hiding such a person, someone capable of influencing a dungeon beast and wielding power beyond what can be measured, all while presenting himself as something insignificant."
One of the knights spoke again.
"We should send spies," he suggested, "we need to understand his true strength before it becomes a threat to the kingdom."
Guren shook his head.
"No," he said firmly, "it would be pointless, that maid alone would detect them before they even got close, and sending more would only result in more losses without gaining anything in return."
The knights fell silent.
Guren continued.
"He does not seek conflict," he said, his tone thoughtful now, "he made that clear, and the marriage I arranged was something that pushed him toward action, so for now, we will observe, not interfere."
He turned his gaze toward the path the Minotaur had taken.
Then he spoke again.
"Take his body," he said quietly, referring to Reynold, "we will give him a proper funeral, and this incident will not be made public, no one needs to know what happened here."
The knights bowed their heads.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Guren remained still for a moment longer.
Looking into the distance.
Then he spoke one last time.
"Do not tell anyone about this."