I divided the troops into two. The tavern was in a strategic spot—a triangular route connecting several main alleys. If they tried to escape, we had already blocked that possibility from the start.
Now, all that remained was to wait for news from the Auditore.
The Auditore were not just experts in espionage. They were shadows I had shaped with my own hands—equipped with tools that even most nobles did not possess. One of these was the mask they wore.
The technique was not just a mere spectacle. In a world of swords and magic, shadow techniques were often associated with dark magic, yet I saw it as an advantage. By gathering these people, I gave them access to various shadow techniques.
In just four years, they had produced astonishing results.
However, the Auditore were not the type to rely solely on shadow techniques or magic. They were educated, ambitious, and proud. If I gave them access, the Auditore would create methods.
And the path they chose… was poison.
Various types of poison emerged from their hands. From those deadly within seconds, to those that did not kill—only paralyzing almost all bodily functions. Even poisons that could immobilize up to ninety percent of the body, affecting humans and magical beasts alike.
The effect was precise, clean, and efficient.
All of this achieved in just four years since the organization's founding.
Of course… my hand had a part in it.
As I and the others waited for the signal from my shadows, a commotion inside meant the most dangerous targets had already been neutralized. Their poisons worked perfectly.
All that remained… were the minions.
And without a leader, they were nothing more than a group of people waiting to be destroyed.
I stepped forward one step.
Small pebbles shifted under my boots, enough to draw my troops' attention. In an instant, all eyes were on me.
No sound. No hesitation.
Just waiting.
"Good…" I said softly, yet loud enough to tighten the tension.
I raised my hand slowly.
"All of you."
In a single, simultaneous motion, they lowered their bodies, ready to move. Weapon grips tightened, breaths drawn deep, and their focus locked forward.
"Destroy them."
For a moment—
The silence broke.
"OOOOH!!"
The shout echoed low, like a restrained roar, yet filled with determination and emotions that had been building until now.
I lowered my hand.
And in an instant—
They moved.
Two groups stormed from different directions, their steps quick yet coordinated. One kicked the main door until it shattered, while the others burst through the side window, glass and wood scattering.
"ATTACK!"
The shout merged with the sounds of crashing impacts.
Inside, the remaining bandits hadn't even grasped the situation yet. Some still held glasses, others had just risen from their chairs—too late.
Swords clashed, bodies were struck, and screams of pain filled the room.
I stepped in the midst of the chaos.
My steps were calm, every movement controlled. The surrounding commotion did not disturb my focus at all. I moved like the eye of a storm, the center of destruction calm yet determining the course of death.
My guards clashed with the bandits, their movements fast, decisive, utilizing combat techniques we had trained for years. But I… I chose a more direct path.
I drew my weapon, a short sword combined with the speed and techniques I carried from past memories.
A bandit tried to charge, challenging me with a look full of arrogance. Too late.
I bent my knees, spun my body, and thrust the sword straight into his neck. His body stiffened briefly, his breath stopped, and then he collapsed powerless.
Without wasting time, I directed my sword to the next target.
Each stab was efficient. Every movement flawless. Not a single bandit deserved to look at me longer than the seconds before their death.
Half an hour passed like that.
The sounds of resistance subsided. Bodies lay scattered, the scent of blood and metal filled the air. Chaos turned into thick silence.
Those who resisted… were gone.
All that remained were those who surrendered.
They were gathered, hands bound, bodies trembling, faces pale. Their eyes reflected fear and regret.
And among them… one stood out.
An Aura user. A former knight, extraordinary strength, his body radiating energy that made the air around him feel heavy. He sat upright despite his hands tied, staring at me as if he could pierce through bones. Harris stood near him, alert, watching every move.
The man's gaze ignited a spark of resistance. He looked at me as if he wanted to crush me on the spot. That… was interesting.
Meanwhile, the merchants who had controlled everything upstairs were different. They bowed their heads, pale-faced, lips trembling, bodies shaking—not daring to meet my eyes. The power they had felt moments ago vanished in an instant.
I stepped forward slowly, treading the creaking wooden floor beneath my feet. I stopped directly in front of them, looking each one in the eye.
Silence enveloped the room. Only heavy breaths, heartbeat sounds audible among them, and the spilled wine's aroma lingering on the floor.
I gave a slight grin. My tone was casual, as if speaking to a long-lost guest who had arrived late.
"Is there something wrong with my face?" I asked.
The room fell even quieter.
No one dared answer.
But from their gazes… the answer was clear. Fear, confusion, and regret reflected in their eyes.
A merchant, who had laughed the loudest before, swallowed hard. His hand trembled, covering his mouth, while the girls they had enslaved looked at me with faint relief.
Meanwhile, the Aura user remained staring at me. No fear, only burning hatred, his Aura pulsing, demanding a chance to fight.
I gave a thin smile, my face showing a mix of patience and controlled savagery.
"Do you have something to say to me?" I asked softly, looking straight into his eyes.
The Aura user narrowed his eyes, his body tensing. "Coward!" he shouted, voice full of anger, trying to cover the fear that was obvious.
"Hmm?" I raised one eyebrow, as if questioning his courage.
"Is this how you fight!? And you… you call yourself a knight!"
I frowned, staring at him with a cold expression, restraining laughter.
"Ck… what nonsense is this trash talking about?" I muttered, my voice low, full of mockery.
Without waiting for a reply, I stepped forward, then knelt, lowering my body to be eye-to-eye with him—face to face.
My gaze pierced deep into his eyes, forcing him to swallow both ego and anger at once.
"Hey!" My voice suddenly rose, firm yet clearly controlled. "You must have severely underestimated the people of Heisenberg, thinking they were no more than pigs, right?"
I leaned slightly closer, adding psychological pressure. "You came here just to milk us dry, making our people starve to death… And you still dare to call yourself a knight!?"
The man's eyes blazed, but his voice was restrained. He growled, saliva almost spilling from his mouth.
"Tch!" he finally spat out, full of hatred, yet clearly cracked—cracks of fear and frustration he tried to hide behind stubbornness.
"YOU!" he screamed, suddenly spitting on my face with almost uncontrollable anger.
Harris reacted immediately, his eyes burning with rage. "Prince—!" he shouted, ready to rush forward to retaliate.
I raised a hand casually, stopping him. "Calm down," I said, my voice low but full of authority.
With slow, deliberate movements, I took a handkerchief from my cloak pocket, pressed it to my face, and wiped off the spit calmly—without haste, without any visible anger.
Everyone held their breath, including Harris. The tense atmosphere shifted instantly, blending shock and admiration.
I stared the man straight in the eyes. My voice was colder now, cutting like a blade.
"You must feel terribly humiliated for not fighting properly," I said softly, yet every word slapped his ego and arrogance. "Very well. Let me be your opponent."
For a moment—the room fell silent.
My guards stared at me wide-eyed, even Harris looked almost shocked, hesitating for a moment. No one had expected I would step in personally to face the Aura user.
"No, Prince! I can't!" Harris shouted, his voice full of worry. He stepped forward, trying to stop me, his gaze a mixture of fear and deep loyalty.
I raised a hand, halting him. My voice remained calm, cold, yet firm.
"Harris," I said slowly, "you need to see the kind of person you serve. And I… must also understand how an Aura user fights firsthand."
My gaze remained locked on the Aura user before me. His eyes pierced, challenging me, but I did not waver. Not in the slightest.
"If I don't intervene now," I continued, my voice low but authoritative, "I will never truly understand the enemy's capabilities, and that would become a weakness for all of us. Do you understand what I mean?"
Harris swallowed hard, looking at me for a long moment. His breath was heavy, and for the first time, he realized this decision wasn't merely about courage. This was strategy—a prince leading, testing both his troops and his enemy simultaneously.
"I understand, Prince," he said finally, his voice heavy but firm, slightly trembling with a mix of awe and anxiety.
I nodded slowly, still staring at the Aura user. "Good."
The guards immediately moved, clearing a small arena in the middle of the tavern. They pushed aside tables, chairs, and anything that could obstruct, creating enough space for a one-on-one duel. The atmosphere grew suddenly silent, only the sound of breathing audible, as if waiting for the first explosion of combat.
I removed my cloak with slow, deliberate movements, leaving the leather armor fitted to my body. My short sword was already tightly gripped in my hand. Every movement emphasized calmness while maintaining lethal readiness.
Meanwhile, the guards brought the Aura user to the center of the arena. They released his bound hands, handed him a sword, and kept a safe distance. The Aura radiating from his body made the air around him feel heavy, as if the space itself tensed.
"I'll make you regret this!" he shouted, his tone full of anger and hatred. He gripped his sword tightly, his eyes blazing, radiating terrifying energy.
"Hehehe… go ahead," I replied, my tone casual but full of confidence. I stepped into the arena slowly, my footsteps calm even as every muscle was ready to move. The sword in my hand nearly glimmered under the lamp light.
The guards stepped back, watching from the edges of the arena. Harris stood slightly behind me, eyes alert, hands ready to intervene if something unexpected happened.