The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 220

Kael narrowed his eyes, locking them on the man who had just delivered the killing blow. If he had to describe it in one word.

Excellent.

The movement had been clean, silent, like a rippleless breeze. No flash, no roar of aura, not even a proper draw of the blade. The man had only shrugged his scabbard forward—subtle, almost lazy—and that alone had done the job. The cut was clean, instant, and precise.

Few had noticed the execution and fewer even understood the technique. But Kael, a practitioner of the sword himself, recognized what he saw.

This was true mastery.

The man's swordsmanship in "The Way" was at least an A+ rank, and possibly just a breath short of S rank. He didn't rely on flashy aura or boosted stats from the Akashic Record. His strength came from rigorous training, solid fundamentals, and the calm confidence of one who had walked a long, bloody path with the blade.

Though people had swordsmanship talent, instead of improving by practice they used monster hunt and kill to level up, putting less focus on mastery of the sword technique and art.

It was a big problem for now once you reach the SSS rank, the difference would be vast.

Those who just depend on leveling can't hold a candle against those who reached the peak with both practices and akashic record.

Kael crossed his arms, his expression unreadable.

'If I had faced him back then, I would've been cut down instantly. Even now, I'd have to be careful.'

Around him, the mercenaries and civilians were in a frenzy.

"He was a fake?!"

"That bastard wore a Royal Knight's armor!"

"We were about to kneel to a fraud!"

"Damn scum! Impersonating a Royal Knight?"

"Serves him right! He got what he deserved!"

Trevor, still pale from earlier, whispered, "I almost followed that guy's orders… I could've died."

The tension had flipped. Where there had been fear, there was now relief and a strange form of gratitude.

The knight who performed the execution turned toward Kael, his expression calm and curious. "From your strength," he said, "you could have defeated them easily. So why didn't you move?"

Kael's brows drew together. The question wasn't accusatory—it was observational. Still, he didn't like being evaluated.

"I was still judging the situation," Kael replied.

"They were in Royal armor. If I had attacked them and they turned out to be real Royal Knights, I'd be in serious trouble. Possibly labeled a criminal."

The knight nodded thoughtfully, then replied, "Royal Knights are fair and just. We do not engage in such dishonorable actions. You should have struck them hard."

"And even if they were Royal knights, so what?"He snorted.

"....'' Kael scoffed inwardly instead of asking.

'Fair, my ass…'

Hmm! If he had done what this guy said, who knows how many people would come after him?

He'd seen too many so-called "honorable knights" with blood on their hands and lies in their mouths. This one might be different, but Kael wasn't about to take anyone's word for it.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the woods. Heavy, deliberate—like armored boots moving in formation.

Kael sighed, rubbing his temple in frustration. "Now what...?"

From the treeline emerged another group of knights, their armor gleaming under the dappled light. Leading them was a striking figure—a woman who instantly drew every gaze.

She walked at the front, clad in shining silver armor lined with verdant green inlays that shimmered with elegance.

Her long, greenish-silver hair fluttered in the breeze like trailing ribbons.

Her helmet sat tucked under her arm, revealing a radiant face—soft and delicate yet etched with the strength of command. Her emerald eyes were sharp and unwavering, scanning the scene with a piercing calm. She was tall, poised, and moved with a grace that commanded both respect and awe.

The mercenaries visibly tensed. One whispered, "Is that… a knight commander?"

"No... Look at the crest on her cape—that's royalty."

"She's beautiful…" someone muttered, then quickly bit their tongue as her gaze swept over them.

Then, her voice rang out.

It wasn't feminine rather quite clear, cold and sharp.

"Sol…. Did you take care of that bastard?"

The knight stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Yes, Your Highness. The imposter has been dealt with. As for the remaining bandits—" He turned to them, his eyes glowing with authority. A single glare was enough. The bandits dropped their weapons in surrender, trembling.

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"Please spare us…."

"We swear we won't commit any more crime."

Loud voices of pleas erupted one after another but the woman just snorted coldly.

"Arrest them first and then we will decide. And see to the wounded—ours and theirs, both." she ordered without hesitation.

Turning to her surroundings, she took a moment to assess the terrain. Then she spoke again, her voice firm but less severe.

"We've been traveling vertically for too long. Everyone, take a rest. Set up the tents."

Her knights moved efficiently, fanning out to carry out the commands. The chaos had settled, and in its place came the order of discipline and leadership.

Kael watched her for a long moment.

She was no ordinary knight.And something told him… she wasn't here by coincidence.

......…..

The late afternoon sun bathed the camp in golden light as Kael sat on a flat rock near the forest edge, his back relaxed but his eyes alert.

Beside him, Lyria crouched over a small fire she had kindled with flint and some dry twigs. The soft crackle of the flames mingled with the gentle rustle of leaves as she skewered slices of meat, the aroma filling the air and making Kael's stomach grumble faintly.

With a soft sigh, Lyria handed a skewer to Kael.

"Here. Still hot, but not raw," she said, brushing her slightly sweaty red hair aside.

Kael took the skewer with a nod. "Thanks."

As he bit into the meat, the sizzling juices dripping slightly down the stick, Trevor appeared, his expression a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. He approached slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uh… Sir, can I have a moment?"

Kael glanced up, chewing calmly. "Yeah?"

Trevor exhaled sharply and offered a crooked smile. "Umm sir… I just wanted to say thanks. If you hadn't stepped in earlier, we would've been slaughtered before the real knights even showed up."

Kael simply nodded, his expression unreadable.

"Sir please pardon me if I have offended you before.I really failed to see through you even though people say merchants have sharp eyes."

"No problem."Kael just waves his hand.

"I mean it," Trevor added, fumbling in his pouch before pulling out a few gold coins and placing them into Kael's hand. "This isn't much, but take it. It's what I can spare for now. You didn't have to help us, but you did."

Kael looked at the coins, then closed his fingers around them. "Alright," he said simply.

"Thanks."

Trevor seemed relieved. "Stay safe out there," he added before turning and walking back toward his group.

Silence returned briefly, the fire crackling softly between them. Lyria propped her chin on her hand as she stared into the flames.

"That woman…" she said quietly, "She felt dangerous."

Kael nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah. I don't know what order she belongs to, but she's royalty. That much is clear. And she doesn't look simple. The way everyone moved around her… even Sol seemed different when she arrived."

His gaze shifted to the side, landing on the large, smooth egg resting beside Lyria in a bed of cloth and moss. A soft warmth came from it, but no other signs of life.

"Any sign of it hatching?" Kael asked.

Lyria sighed and shook her head. "Nothing yet."

She looked down at the egg, her expression softening. "I was going to eat it, you know," she said with a small laugh. "Back when I found it. But… I don't know. I got attached. I want to see what's inside."

Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Could be something cute."

"Could be something that eats our faces too," He muttered, then added in his thoughts, 'Will this even hatch in this lifetime? I remember a dragon once saying her egg hatched after 120 years…'

Kael leaned back slightly, letting the quiet of the woods settle over them again.

Just then, the sound of approaching boots broke the calm.

"Hey, you!" a voice called.

Kael looked up to see the familiar knight, Sol, marching toward him.

"Yes?" Kael replied.

"You're being summoned. By Her Highness."

Kael blinked, looking around. "You're talking to me?"

Sol gave him a confused look. "Is there anyone else sitting on that rock with a skewer in hand?"

Kael sighed. "Why?"

Sol shrugged, clearly uninterested in explaining. "I don't know. I was told to bring you. Now hurry up."

Kael gave Lyria a look, then stood up, brushing crumbs off his cloak. "Great. One thing after another."

Lyria gave him a condensing look,"Master, be careful and don't get killed."

Kael grunted. "Can't promise either."

With that, he followed Sol into the heart of the camp.