When the trader saw the heads of his men falling to the ground and the severed arms of the last soldier, it felt as if the life had been drained out of his body. With a choked cry he fell backward and sprawled on the ground. His eyes were so wide that the whites were showing; naked, undisguised terror surged within his gaze.
He was frozen. He could only stare at Lioran without blinking. His lips trembled and broken words spilled out of his mouth.
"No… no… that's impossible… He defeated three of my men in just a few seconds. That's impossible. Why is that damned bastard so strong…?"
His voice trembled—not from pain, but from the collapse of a world he had believed was firmly beneath his feet just moments ago.
Zobi, too, stood frozen in fear and astonishment. His eyes widened and his breath caught for a moment. Instinctively, he drew his sword from its sheath and held it in front of his body, as if that simple act might somehow restrain the terror creeping into his bones.
Chaos raged in his mind.
'How did he kill them…?'
His gaze was unconsciously drawn to the back of Lioran's hand—where the Qi sword had emerged, calm and silent, yet deadly. His heart sank.
'What kind of sword is that? Could it be… could that be a skill?'
He clenched his teeth. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach any conclusion.
'Damn it… why can't I evaluate his strength? How is that possible? You can only fail to evaluate someone's power if they're many times stronger than you…'
A cold sweat formed on his temple.
'Could he be a Black Aura swordsman? Did he know from the beginning that none of us had even the slightest chance… and that's why he attacked with such confidence, even though there were four of us?
Damn it… I don't even know what kind of monster I've fallen into the hands of…'
Seeing the scene before them, the children were left speechless. Their breaths were trapped in their small chests, and their thin bodies trembled uncontrollably. The tears on their cheeks had not yet dried, but no more sobs came out—only pure fear, silent and heavy.
But Lioran's gaze was fixed solely on that soldier—the one who had insulted his mother. The man, whose hands no longer existed, writhed on the ground in agony, groaning in pain. Blood soaked the earth beneath him.
Without the slightest change in his expression, Lioran spoke in a cold voice,
"So what happened? Don't you want to attack me anymore… or curse at me?"
His voice wasn't loud, nor was it angry. It was calm—and that calmness spread through the air, far more terrifying than any scream.
But the soldier, overwhelmed by the pain, didn't even notice Lioran's words. He groaned, twisting on the ground, dragging lines across the dirt with his blood-soaked body. His breaths were fast and broken, as if they might stop at any moment.
Suddenly, a sharp movement brought everything to a halt.
A hand plunged into his hair and, with a brutal yank, tore his head off the ground and forced it upward.
It was Lioran.
He had bent down slightly, standing right in front of the soldier. His fingers were tightly tangled in the man's sweat- and blood-soaked hair, forcing him to keep his head raised. The distance between them was so small that the soldier's ragged breaths struck Lioran's face.
The soldier's eyes filled with tears—tears born not only of pain, but of the terror that had taken root in his heart when he saw that cold gaze. His body trembled, and he no longer even had the strength to scream.
In the same icy voice, Lioran said,
"When I speak to you… stop screaming and listen to me. Understand?"
At the sound of that voice, the last trace of resistance seemed to crumble inside the soldier. Slowly, fearfully, he nodded. His trembling lips barely parted as he said in a broken voice,
"P-please… forgive me… spare my life… please forgive me."
The soldier began begging for his life.
But would begging help him anymore?
Lioran placed the fingers of his right hand on the soldier's upper teeth and the fingers of his left hand on his lower teeth. Locking his cold gaze onto the soldier's trembling eyes, he said,
"Didn't I tell you from the beginning to watch your words…? Because I'm not a forgiving person."
Then, without any haste, he pulled the upper jaw upward with his right hand and the lower jaw downward with his left.
A loud, muffled groan burst from the soldier's mouth—more like the broken plea of someone who had just realized his mistake could never be undone.
Anahita, realizing Lioran's intention, glanced toward the children. Their trembling bodies and terrified eyes were fixed on him. Seeing that sight tightened her chest, and with a voice filled with anger and worry she said,
"Hey, Lioran… the children… the children are watching. Wait… have you lost your mind?"
Hearing Anahita's words, Lioran turned his gaze toward the children. Fear trembled across their faces, and their small bodies shook uncontrollably. He stared at them for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Hey, you guys…"
But the children were still frozen, as if they couldn't even hear him.
Lioran raised his voice.
"Hey! I'm talking to you! Can't you hear me?"
This time their gazes shifted, as if they had just snapped out of it. The fear was still there, but now they could hear him.
Lioran continued,
"Good. That's better. I'll explain this once, so listen carefully. Close your eyes and cover your ears tightly. Don't open your eyes or take your hands off your ears until I tell you to. Understand? Hurry up."
All three children held their breath in terror, as if the world had stopped in that very moment. Immediately they shut their eyes and pressed their trembling hands tightly over their ears. Their small shoulders shook and their hearts pounded rapidly, while they didn't dare open their eyes even the slightest bit.
When Lioran was certain that none of the children could see or hear anything, he slowly nodded. A quiet breath left his chest, and his cold gaze returned to the soldier whose mouth was still forced open between Lioran's hands. Tears streamed endlessly down the man's cheeks, and his entire body trembled with fear.
"Good… now let's get back to you."
Without the slightest change in his expression, he began pulling again.
Overwhelmed by pain, the soldier screamed nonstop. His cries echoed through the forest as his legs thrashed wildly, striking against Lioran's shins. He struggled and writhed desperately, but nothing reduced the crushing force.
And in that same cold voice, Lioran said to him,
"Good… keep screaming like that. Louder… louder…"
Seeing this scene, the slave trader staggered backward as if his entire body had begun to shake uncontrollably. His voice trembled, and the words barely escaped his mouth.
"W-what… what is he… doing…?"
Zobi gripped his sword with both hands. The cold metal trembled beneath his fingers—or perhaps it was his own hands that no longer obeyed him. His legs had gone weak, shaking involuntarily.
He stared at the scene in disbelief, whispering in his mind,
'What… what kind of creature is he? How can a person be this cruel…? What did that soldier even do for him to be killed like this…?'
His gaze suddenly dropped to his own hands and feet. He saw the trembling and his breath caught in his throat.
Clenching his teeth, with anger and fear tangled together inside him.
'Why… why are my hands and legs shaking? I'm the commander of the second unit of Duke Orestal's forces…'
Then he looked again at Lioran's cold eyes.
'Don't tell me… don't tell me I'm afraid of him.'
Lioran tightened his grip and pulled harder.
The soldier let out one last scream—long and broken—and then—
Crack…!
The horrific sound of bone shattering rang through the air. The soldier's head split open from the mouth, as if something inside had burst apart. Blood sprayed into the air—warm and heavy—spattering across Lioran's face and clothes.
The lifeless body collapsed onto the ground with a dull thud. Half of the soldier's head was still caught in Lioran's right hand.
Lioran released it.
The blood-soaked piece fell onto the dirt with a blunt, wet sound.
He straightened up, pulling his shoulders slightly back, his face smeared with blood. Then he fixed his cold gaze on Zobi and the slave trader.
"Good… now it's your turn."