The dim magic crystal lamp shattered into seven or eight pieces, scattered across the wrecked Glass Floor.
Screams and crashes filled the air.
Everywhere, small girls flapped their wings, fleeing from armored tin cans, chaos erupting across the Dance Floor.
Jon pushed open the door and had just stepped out of the Stairwell when a Half-person-tall Heavy-bladed Greatsword came slashing toward him.
In the dim room, the seven Enchantment Gems embedded in the hilt glowed like ghostly eyes.
Countless special trainings and battles had forged Jon’s instincts—he awakened the power of the Hero instantly, magic surging through his limbs and bones like a tidal wave, making his body feel light as a feather.
Blessing of Strength – Limit Release.
Blessing of Speed – Limit Release.
Blessing of Agility – Limit Release.
Blessing of Endurance – Limit Release.
The Four Great Blessings gathered at once.
At the same time, every muscle and nerve in Jon’s body was awakened by magic, unleashing his full potential.
In Jon’s vision, the world suddenly slowed, nearly to a halt.
To his left, a Succubus had stopped flapping her wings but still hung in midair, about to crash into the wall.
Her terrified, pitiful features were frozen, like a white jade statue; tears at the corners of her eyes hung motionless, refusing to fall.
The heavy blade was suspended three inches before Jon’s eyes.
He glanced at it, then easily reached out and flicked the tip.
In an instant—the Alloy Greatsword, two fingers thick, erupted with a dense web of cracks.
The Enchantment Gem engraved with the “Reinforcement Spell” rapidly dimmed, turning to floating ash.
Jon slightly eased the magic raging within him.
“Time” began to flow once more.
The Succubus flapped her wings, accelerating abruptly, and crashed headfirst into the wall behind Jon.
The armored attacker who had struck at Jon was sent flying backward, the Imperial Guard’s standard Storm Greatsword shattering inch by inch in his hand like a child’s toy trampled by an elephant.
As the only one present who dared fight back against the Imperial Guard, Jon immediately drew everyone’s attention.
Once they recognized him, the Imperial Guard, as if facing a formidable enemy, quickly contracted their formation.
Having fought alongside Heroes, these Elite knew best the power of this “Commoner Lucky Star.”
After awakening, a Hero’s body contains immense magic, so only the application of that magic needs to be trained.
Over the long years, some Heroes specialized in the Divine Art Sequence, using magic to communicate with deities, channeling divine power for grand, awe-inspiring attacks.
Others chose the Dominion Sequence, using magic to command all things, manipulating the basic elements to unleash dazzling elemental assaults.
Still others mastered the Resonance Sequence, channeling magic to connect with all beings—controlling Magical Automatons, Elemental Sprites, and monsters, commanding an army alone.
But few, like Jon, chose the War Sequence—using magic to excavate physical potential, enhance bodily abilities, and deal pure physical blows.
In all of human history, there were less than a handful.
Add in his vast, unfathomable magic…
It was hard for anyone who hadn’t fought him to imagine his upper limits.
But once you’d crossed blades, his near-invincible speed, strength, resilience, and magic resistance would be etched into your bones for a lifetime.
“Miss Margaret.”
Jon immediately spotted the Princess at the center, elegantly yet coldly seated within a ring of Imperial Guard, enjoying the Succubi’s screams and pleas.
“His Majesty has already accepted the demons’ surrender. This is the Demon Diplomatic Station in Rossi City. Slaughtering them here violates both the Capitulation Treaty we signed on His Majesty’s behalf and the Defeated Nation Administration Ordinance enacted in Eternal Calendar 1377.”
He spoke first, trying to reason with the Princess through national law.
But Margaret couldn’t be bothered to memorize the Imperial Code, let alone care about the Defeated Nation Administration Ordinance.
She said coldly, “I killed them. So what?”
Jon couldn’t help but laugh.
What he needed was exactly such a half-defiant, half-admitting statement from the Princess.
His knowledge of imperial law was based on hearsay and half-understanding.
If the Princess argued, he’d be no match, but if she chose to be unreasonable, the field was his.
“Miss Margaret, even as a Princess, you cannot undermine imperial law and order or trample upon Imperial Dignity. If you insist on acting willfully, then I can only discipline you on His Majesty’s behalf.”
Jon said slowly.
“You? Discipline me?”
Margaret’s eyes widened, as if she’d heard the most outrageous thing.
She slammed her cup in anger and shouted with authority:
“Fine! I see you have no respect for the royal family at all! The Empire gave you life and raised you, yet you dare defy the Emperor himself? You shameless wretch lacking Loyalty, Filial Piety, Justice, Benevolence—kneel!”
Jon only smiled.
“Miss Margaret, you broke the law first. His Majesty is wise, just, and magnanimous. Even before him, he’d support me.”
“You!”
Margaret grew even angrier.
“You dare mock my father!”
Jon was dumbfounded.
Wait, who was mocking His Majesty?
Every word I said was praise!
At least follow basic law when assigning guilt!
But before he could defend himself, Margaret barked at the Imperial Guard to her left and right.
“You all heard him! He insulted my father! I order you to arrest him immediately—I will judge him in His Majesty’s name!”
“Princess…”
The Imperial Guard’s top expert, Kobilio, looked troubled.
Margaret lowered her voice, secretly instructing, “What are you afraid of? No matter how strong he is, it’s only the Hero’s power. I permit it—use the Forbidden Magic Field.”
“Princess, though we Imperial Guard possess the Dragonborn Bloodline, our blood isn’t pure enough to restrain the Hero. I fear…”
Kobilio explained quietly.
The Royal Family of Calradia had ruled this land for a thousand years, not by chance.
They relied on the Dragonborn Bloodline inherited from their ancestors.
The power awakened by Dragonblood was extraordinary, reaching the very source.
They could even sacrifice their own blood and magic to create a Forbidden Magic Field whose range and strength depended on the concentration of Dragonblood.
Within this field, no one could use magic—only command spells and incantations born of Dragonblood remained effective.
“Who said no one here had sufficient blood concentration?”
Margaret stared at Kobilio.
“Aren’t you… still here?”
Kobilio froze.
He stared blankly at the Princess he’d served for over four months, a cold wind rising in his heart.
[My Princess, you are as cold as His Majesty, but… not nearly as wise.]
Kobilio thought in sorrow.
“Kobilio.”
Margaret whispered.
“You’re only a Royal Side Branch, born of a Mistress, without Nobility. Sacrifice for me this once, and I’ll ensure your descendants live in wealth and honor, enjoying my favor for generations.”
“Your Highness, is a matter of pride worth this?”
Kobilio tried to protest.
Margaret waved her hand impatiently.
“Enough! The Royal Face cannot be defiled! If we don’t punish him today, he’ll dare rebel or even assassinate His Majesty tomorrow!”
“…Yes, ma’am.”