Chapter 9: Lynn’s Performance Moment

After settling everything, Lynn made his way to the basement of the Carlyte Manor.

The basement was connected to a massive altar.

At the center of the altar, a blood-red gemstone lay quietly within its case, constantly radiating a crimson glow.

It was the secret treasure the Carlyte family had guarded for generations—the Heart of the Dragon.

Lynn approached slowly, and after a moment, a pale blue barrier suddenly appeared before his eyes.

Only those who carried the blood of the Carlyte family could pass through this barrier.

This was also why Lynn’s name appeared on the list of targets for the Abyssal Deathsworn.

Blood flowing physically still counted as flowing.

Lynn passed through the barrier and picked it up.

In the next instant, all the attributes of the Heart of the Dragon appeared before his eyes.

[Item Name: Heart of the Dragon]

[Rarity: Orange Legend]

[Grade: 1]

[Remark: Orange Legend chessmaster’s anchor “Heart of the Dragon.” The faint roar of an evil dragon seems to echo within.]

“An Orange Legend chessmaster’s piece, huh…”

Lynn frowned slightly.

Although chess pieces were all consumables that would vanish upon use,

That only applied to those of rarity below Purple Epic.

For those at higher rarities, since the anchor’s energy was powerful enough, they could often be used multiple times, sometimes even without limit.

However, such chess pieces could not circulate in the market.

Because they often established a bond with the soul of the chessmaker.

Unless the chessmaker’s soul was erased entirely, the piece would only ever respond to its recognized master, remaining useless in anyone else’s hands until it broke.

Therefore, every chessmaker saw creating an Orange Legend piece as a lifelong goal.

After all, anyone could betray you, but the chess piece would not.

To Lynn, as long as the materials were sufficient, creating an Orange chess piece was not particularly difficult.

But the problem was…

If he used up the Carlyte family’s heirloom, when his old man came back, he’d probably have his backside whipped into pieces.

Well, anyway.

If it was just to lure the Abyssal Deathsworn, there shouldn’t be any unexpected mishaps.

Thinking this, Lynn didn’t hesitate to pocket the treasure.

“Next up…”

Lynn let out a long breath.

“It’s showtime.”

…

Carter walked along the road, an inexplicable unease lingering in his heart.

As an Abyssal Deathsworn, he had killed quite a few people for the Abyssal Cult.

But never before had a target made him feel this strange.

He kept sensing that things were slowly slipping out of his control.

The sudden, unexplained transfer of the Heart of the Dragon was a perfect example.

Headquarters had never mentioned anything about this.

And from last night’s probing of Lynn, he’d picked up on something.

Not only was the boy unafraid—there was even a barely perceptible…

Killing intent in those confident eyes.

As if he had already known Carter’s identity, made every preparation, and could strike him down at any moment.

Could he foresee the future?

“Heh.”

At that thought, Carter couldn’t help but laugh.

Even if such magic existed, it wasn’t something a mere Tier 1 Magus could use.

He was probably just a brainless noble.

Most likely, the moment he discovered Carter’s true identity, he’d be scared out of his wits, crying for his father and begging for mercy on his knees.

Carter mused.

The very next moment, Lynn’s slightly mocking, irritating voice sounded in his ears.

“What a coincidence, we meet again.”

Lynn smiled, waving at Carter.

Seeing the relaxed, carefree look on Lynn’s face, Carter couldn’t help but laugh in anger.

Death was knocking at his door, yet he was still smiling and greeting him.

This guy must really be an idiot.

The Heart of the Dragon was probably on him.

All he had to do was kill him…

At that thought, a hint of ferocity flashed through Carter’s eyes as his greatsword left its sheath in the blink of an eye.

A hefty black iron blade swept toward Lynn at lightning speed.

Just before it struck Lynn, Lynn threw out the [Swift] chess piece.

At the moment the greatsword touched him, Lynn mysteriously vanished from the spot.

As if he had evaporated into thin air.

Carter’s pupils contracted in disbelief as he looked ahead.

Somehow, Lynn now stood much farther away, still wearing that gentle smile.

Impossible!

No incantation, no magic circle.

How did he achieve instant movement?

A cold sweat immediately broke out on Carter’s forehead.

His instincts were right—this guy was definitely up to something!

Could the intel have been wrong—was the target not a Tier 1 Magus after all?

At that thought, Carter didn’t dare hold back anymore.

He slowly took off his robe, then sliced a deep line across his own arm.

As blood dripped onto the sword, the black blade began to emit a crimson glow.

Lynn naturally understood what he was doing.

That black iron sword was clearly a magical artifact.

Nourishing a magic weapon with one’s own blood could unleash its greatest power for a short time.

The price, of course, was steep.

The user would often lose several years of their lifespan.

Such desperate moves would never be used unless one was forced into a corner.

To think he regarded him this highly—no class discrimination at all.

Lynn mused.

The man’s actually kind of decent.

One had to know, below Tier 3, warriors completely suppressed magi—if the latter got caught up close, they were basically dead.

Yet here Lynn, a mere Tier 1 Magus, had forced a battle-hardened Tier 3 warrior to use his final trump card.

If word got out, Carter’s reputation in the trade would be done for.

At that thought, Carter’s anger boiled.

“Die!”

He charged at Lynn with his greatsword.

All the while, he failed to notice the peaceful smile on Lynn’s lips.

Yet the more he looked, the more that smile seemed somehow eerie.

Just as Carter closed in, raising his blade, ready to cut Lynn in half—

It felt like something flicked his forehead.

The next moment, his legs went limp.

He lost all feeling below the waist and slid forward on his knees, stopping only in front of Lynn in a particularly awkward posture.

His knees scraped the ground so hard sparks nearly flew.

It was the [Paralysis] chess piece Lynn had thrown.

“Please, rise quickly—no need for such a grand salute.”

At these words, veins bulged and pulsed across Carter’s forehead.

A flush of anger could be glimpsed behind the mask.

Carter had lived many years and killed many people.

But he had never met a bastard like Lynn.

His attacks posed no threat, yet Carter couldn’t even figure out how Lynn was launching his own.

His attacks caused no real harm, yet the humiliation was overwhelming.

Damn it, so fond of tormenting people—this little bastard was born for the sword grave.

Carter didn’t want to think anymore.

If he couldn’t skin him alive, grind his bones to dust…

He’d spend his whole life in the shadow of today.

With that, Carter propped himself up with his greatsword and slowly stood.

Lynn, seeing this, simply continued to stand in place, mocking him with that same inscrutable, aggravating smile.

“Go on…”

“Die!!”

The blade fell.