Chapter 5: The So-Called Truth (Please Continue Reading)

This scene rivaled any graphic depiction found in the most scandalous forbidden books.

Beth collapsed weakly to the ground, her abdomen aching as if in labor, forcing her to grit her teeth and emit only hissing breaths through clenched jaws.

“Done!”

Ron clapped his hands and exclaimed sincerely, “Fortunately, I’m here. Miss Talia truly made the right choice hiring me as her tutor!”

Without paying any heed to the thief’s convulsing body, Ron strode out of the washroom.

He intended to find his employer and report his triumph.

This thought filled Ron with renewed vigor.

Thump, thump, thump...

At that moment, steady footsteps echoed from the seemingly endless darkness of the corridor.

A tall figure emerged from the shadows—a bronze-skinned man with extremely pale palms, gripping a longsword adorned with gemstones.

“Mr. Ancestara” surveyed the scene before him, and upon seeing Beth collapsed and powerless on the ground, a twitch crossed his face as boundless fury surged within.

“Beast, what have you done to my student!?”

His indignant roar caused a twitch at the corner of the blond youth’s mouth.

What do you mean ‘what I did’?

You’re the one stealing and still acting righteous!?

Ron inwardly mused how society had progressed—while the older generation replaced the younger, they still maintained such arrogance.

Unaware outsiders might have thought Ron Griffiths himself had done something shameful.

“You’re her teacher? Nowadays, even thieves have master-apprentice systems?”

Ron drew his longsword once more from his mage’s robe and held it across his chest, speaking sharply while remaining on guard.

The previous battle made him realize he was up against ruthless killers.

And now, the enemy even had accomplices.

There was no doubt this would be a desperate fight.

Ancestara ignored Ron’s taunts, his gaze passing over Ron to rest on the youth’s brutally insulted student.

Had he not sensed something amiss, his sole student might have died today.

She was his masterpiece, defiled beneath his very eyes by this blond youth.

Unforgivable!

“You deserve to die!”

Ancestara’s pale palm swung the gem-encrusted longsword in an elegant arc, resembling a seasoned knight radiating the lonely aura of a master swordsman.

A sword wielder?

Ron’s expression remained unchanged as he flicked his wrist, awkwardly returning the sword flourish.

“Your sword is too slow.”

Seeing this, Ancestara sneered coldly, mocking the youth’s arrogance.

The body he now possessed was skilled in swordsmanship but had been eliminated from the Holy Knights’ trials due to low magical aptitude, unable to master the “Holy Sword Technique.”

Yet, after being modified by forbidden truths he had mastered, this body had undergone a profound transformation.

In a secret chamber, jars filled with milky white liquid trembled twice, emitting a faint glow as if receiving a command.

One, two, three...

Over a dozen jars vibrated in sequence, enveloped in various serene hues as they rhythmically synchronized their magic with a strange device.

In the pitch-black corridor, Ancestara felt a strong force surge within his body.

It was the resonance of multiple magics—

The very truths capable of changing this backward era!

“Foolish mortal, hear the words of truth!”

Thud!

Ancestara’s foot, blessed by wind elemental magic, slammed onto the ground, his body moving so fast it left a lingering afterimage.

His longsword had become a flash of light, instantly slashing before Ron’s eyes.

The next moment—

“Holy Sword Technique!”

Bang!

A gunshot shattered the night sky.

Ancestara faltered within seven steps of Ron, the tremendous force dragging him backward half a pace.

This madman, who had spent his life seeking truth, stared in shock at the clear bullet hole on his sword blade, frozen in place.

Bang!

Ron fired again.

Three bullets, seemingly forged from pure light, shot from the barrel.

Despite Ancestara amplifying himself with over a dozen first-level magics, he could not track the bullets’ trajectories.

He scrambled to defend himself, using the longsword to shield his head.

Clang—

The gem-encrusted longsword snapped in two, the broken tip embedding crookedly in the floor, symbolizing its master’s inevitable doom.

“You!”

Ancestara grew frantic.

He could not fathom how his meticulously studied forbidden truths were being forced into retreat by a mere handgun.

But seeing Ron’s gun turn toward him, he summoned all his strength to twist his body, attempting to evade a fatal shot.

The next moment—

Bang!

Three bullets, formed of pure light, erupted from the barrel.

The first shattered the invisible shield surrounding Ancestara’s body.

The second pierced his brain, rendering healing magic completely ineffective.

The third tore open his skull, spilling brains and blood in all directions.

Thud—

Ancestara’s body fell limp, his chestnut eyes filled with resentment.

He stared blankly at Ron’s revolver, as if finally understanding something.

His lips moved weakly, uttering his last words:

“You... damn... call that the Holy Sword Technique...”

[You used the Holy Sword Technique to kill a “Fallen Truth Construct.” Your Holy Sword Technique proficiency has increased by 70.]

Seeing the notification on his proficiency panel, Ron silently breathed a sigh of relief.

The enemy’s speed was unlike anything he had ever encountered.

A creature capable of blocking bullets with a blade was far beyond what a mere mage apprentice like him could handle.

If not for the narrow corridor forcing the opponent to charge in only one direction, and if not for Ron’s Holy Sword Technique being fast and precise, today would have been his end.

“Teacher...”

Beth, lying weakly on the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks, stared blankly at the stiff corpse missing most of its brain.

She could hardly believe any of this was real.

In that moment, she felt as though something inside her was being drained away.

Struggling, Beth pulled herself up.

Her eyes beneath the mask were bloodshot.

Grabbing a dagger, she suppressed the fading pain and lunged at Ron.

She would avenge her teacher!

Even if it cost her life!

“Devil! Beast! I will make you pay with your life!”

Ron was nearly numb from hearing the hoarse, slurred curses.

He could not understand why these lawless, murderous scoundrels, who deserved many sermons on morality and law, were so self-righteous.

What?

Are honest people just supposed to be held at gunpoint?

Frustrated and chilled to the bone, Ron wondered when the honest folk would finally stand up for themselves.