Chapter 67: Irresistible Coercion

The faint sound of footsteps echoed as Wang Yu emerged from an alleyway. He glanced at the Voidblade bracer on his arm, which was slightly warm to the touch, and nodded in satisfaction.

Gap travel was extraordinarily convenient—it allowed for unhindered, straight-line movement while compressing the actual distance into one-sixteenth its original length. In fewer than ten minutes, Wang Yu had gone from the entrance of the capital's shadow straight to the edge of Redmaple Street.

He looked up at the sky. It was nearly daybreak. It had only been one night since Captain Hugin cleaved the god of life, Erphine, in two.

Now, it was roughly between 5:30 and 6:00 in the morning. The illusory pocketwatch that Wang Yu had crafted using the void during the battle at the manor had disintegrated when his void energy was depleted. He hadn't bothered to recreate or recalibrate it just yet. That could wait.

Walking toward Redmaple Street, he noticed a few early risers had already begun setting up stalls. Those who couldn't afford storefronts made do, seizing opportunities between city guards' patrols to attract customers with lower prices.

Ignoring the enthusiastic greetings and calls of the vendors, Wang Yu headed toward his residence on Redmaple Street. He was feeling a bit drowsy. Though he could stay awake, there was no reason to force it—what he wanted most now was a good night's sleep.

At the door to his home, Wang Yu turned the key, pushed the door open, and stepped inside before locking it behind him.

With the crisp sound of the lock clicking into place, silence settled over the room.

Wang Yu glanced at the two bedroom doors. His door was open, while Avia's was still closed. It seemed the girl wasn't up yet. Maybe she was worn out from her studies at the academy.

Shaking his head, Wang Yu moved toward his own room, pausing just as he reached the doorway.

Without moving his eyes, he feigned checking the contents of his pockets. In reality, the three-meter range of his ripple ability had already mapped everything in the room ahead. He noticed something unusual.

Due to the Professor's prior warnings, Wang Yu no longer maintained his ripples at their maximum detection range of fifteen meters. Instead, he kept them at three meters, allowing him to observe this smaller area around him with frightening precision.

Dust. The dust on the floor seemed off. The house, being both expensive and somewhat removed from the city center, had remained unsold for a long time. Prolonged disuse had caused dust from the ceiling to accumulate over time.

Although Wang Yu had cleaned the floor, the ceiling hadn't been touched. Dust continued to fall during his absence in very limited but detectable quantities. His ripples' heightened sensitivity revealed uneven patches in the layer of dust.

"Depressions... Did someone step in here? Or am I overthinking this?" Wang Yu continued pretending to search his pockets, but his mind raced.

His ripples scanned the uneven patches with incredible precision, reconstructing the depressions in his mind. They were indeed footprints.

No patterns—definitely not Avia's boots. The prints were faint, likely from someone light-footed who had tried to minimize their traces, only to be foiled by the minuscule layer of dust.

Near his bedroom door, Wang Yu noticed even more footprints. They entered his room and then exited, heading toward Avia's...

Wang Yu let out a soft breath. A foreboding sense of danger settled over him. This wasn't good—it felt worse than facing dozens of mercenaries alone.

Without hesitation, Wang Yu abandoned his pretense of normalcy. He walked straight to Avia's door. He braced himself, activating his fighting spirit while synchronizing his ripples and void energy.

His muscles tensed, his blood coursing faster, Wang Yu charged. An iron-clad shoulder slammed into the door with full force. His ripples swept outward, empowered by the void.

The wooden door splintered and shattered under the impact, sending fragments flying into the room.

Wang Yu's ripples instantly revealed the scene. Avia was leaning against the headboard, unconscious. Near the corner of the room—there was someone there!

Wang Yu's charge into the room and identification of the unknown assailant had occurred near-simultaneously. However, the figure in the corner reacted without a trace of surprise or hesitation. Before Wang Yu could draw his axe, the figure was already moving.

Fast—too fast, a blur even to Wang Yu's ripples. The figure stepped along the wall as if it were solid ground. In the blink of an eye, the figure was behind Wang Yu.

Wang Yu cursed. He had surely encountered a formidable foe. Was this speed even humanly possible? Not even a grand knight could move like this.

It had to be a potential or some other ability! The figure was surely a full-fledged knight at the very least. Wang Yu pivoted, stomped hard, and hurled his axe backward with all his might. He refused to leave his back exposed to such a dangerous opponent.

His axe struck something. A burst of sparks lit up the still-dark bedroom—and Wang Yu's heart sank. The intruder had casually deflected his thrown axe with just a small dagger.

Turning fully, Wang Yu unsheathed his sword and channeled void energy to propel himself. He swung his sword with all his might.

His sword collided with the pitch-black dagger, but despite his strength, the dagger stopped it cold. Worse, the blade cracked under the impact.

"Damn it!" Wang Yu was genuinely alarmed now. This figure—a female assassin, by the looks of her silhouette—possessed terrifying strength.

Frowning, Wang Yu pressed down on the sword's hilt and slid it along the dagger's edge toward her wrist.

"You really are annoying..." the assassin murmured hoarsely.

Suddenly, Wang Yu's vision blurred. A tremendous force struck his sword hand, sending his sword flying into the wall.

Before he could react, his right wrist was twisted with a sickening crack and his abdomen slammed by a knee, fracturing several ribs and damaging internal organs.

Guh! Blood sprayed from Wang Yu's mouth and nose. He struggled to muster his strength, but failed. The pain didn't faze him, but he was unable to fight back.

With his right wrist broken and his left arm pinned behind his back, Wang Yu felt an immense force pressing him to the floor. The bones in his chest groaned under the pressure.

Gasping for air, Wang Yu struggled to breathe. The crushing weight on his chest made even inhaling difficult, and the blood pooling in his throat worsened the situation.

"You're quite stubborn, aren't you? Struggling so much—are you eager for me to kill you?" The hoarse voice sounded again from behind.

"What do you want from me?" Wang Yu demanded.

"You don't even seem to be afraid of death..." The assassin, Hela, frowned. He had burst into the room and come straight at her without hesitation. His senses were impressive, but it was utterly futile—his strength was laughably inadequate.

"Seems like I'll have to teach you some manners..." Her voice turned cold as she drove her dagger into Wang Yu's side, twisting it twice. Blood and shredded flesh oozed from the wound.

"Shit!" Wang Yu spat, barely coherent.

"What do you want?" he repeated.

"You have some nerve asking questions..." Hela's icy tone carried a hint of amusement. "You might be as weak as a bug, but you're still part of that special ops team, aren't you?

"Well, fine. I'm from the royal family. I recommend you not resist. You Nightblades have been seizing too much power lately, you see—especially that archbishop of yours, Fang Stuart. Trying to combine religion and politics... Just what could he be planning?

"And this special ops team of yours is under his direct control. It's clear he's up to no good. We need a spy, and you're not a bad choice."

"Why me?" Wang Yu gritted out.

"Why you? I don't want to answer your foolish questions. Do you even understand your circumstances? Who do you think you're talking to? Who gave you the permission to question me?!"

For some reason, Hela's tone had grown proud and angry. Her dagger stabbed into Wang Yu's back and she twisted it viciously once more.

"Sign this contract, or die. Don't waste my time with your nonsense, you piece of trash."

Hela had no patience for banter. A parchment was flung in front of Wang Yu, covered in dense writing he couldn't decipher. But the last line was clear—it was a slave contract.

"Is this what power gets you...?" Wang Yu thought bitterly. In the face of absolute strength, nothing mattered. All the schemes and strategies in the world were meaningless. The gulf between him and Hela was an insurmountable chasm.

"I refuse," Wang Yu said, his voice steady despite his thoughts.

"How dare you refuse me..." A cold, sinister voice whispered in his ear, devoid of any softness, filled only with frost and killing intent.

A dagger traced a line across his throat, leaving a thin trail of blood. The blade bit into his flesh, perilously close to severing his windpipe.

"You won't kill me," Wang Yu said, his voice equally emotionless. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

It was clear she needed him alive. Wang Yu had studied the forces within the capital. If this deranged assassin really were from the royal family, he'd swallow a knight's sword on the spot.

The Nightblades operated under royal authority. It was semi-autonomous, but still limited in scope.

Furthermore, Fang was a close friend of the king—Fang himself had said so. This lunatic waving a slave contract in his face couldn't possibly be acting on behalf of the royal family.

The royalty might kill him outright—that he would believe. But if this assassin were intending to turn him into a spy, she had to belong to some other faction.

The capital was nominally still at peace. If she really were to kill Wang Yu, a member of the special ops team, the faction she represented would be violating the unspoken rules of the game and would suffer collective retribution as a result.

Of course, if she were truly insane and didn't care about the consequences, Wang Yu would have no choice but to accept his fate. The power disparity between them was too large for him to overcome.

"Heh, you're right. I really can't kill you. A member of the Nightblades' special ops team... Your status is, in some ways, comparable to that of a duke's son. For a lowly commoner like you to rise to such heights—that disgusts me to no end..."

Her raspy voice lingered near Wang Yu's ear. The dagger scored his arm, giving him a few more fresh wounds.

"I could torture you, I suppose, but it seems pointless. It really is a tiresome task..."

Hela's violence elicited no reaction from Wang Yu, deepening her frustration.

"So why don't you just leave... staying here is a waste of time." Wang Yu forced a smile despite his agony.

"But if I can't kill you, what about her? Heh, even if she's a noble, so what?" Hela's tone turned mocking.

The blade left his neck, and the weight pressing on him lifted. Wang Yu raised his head to see Hela throwing a black dagger toward the bed.

The blade embedded itself in the wall, drawing a streak of blood. Avia's face now bore a fresh cut. Crimson blood dripped down onto the bed.

"Well, what do you think? I don't like using this method, but it's very effective. Don't you agree? Sign the contract, or watch me kill her. If she doesn't matter to you, then congratulations—you win."

Wang Yu glanced at the unconscious Avia, his coughing ceased abruptly. A suffocating silence filled the room, broken only by the sound of blood dripping to the floor.

"Say something. What's the matter? Don't you believe me? Do you need me to kill her to prove it?"

Hela's displeasure was palpable. She gripped Wang Yu's neck and twisted his head toward Avia. The dagger in her hand was held steady—it was no bluff.

Suddenly, two sounds echoed simultaneously in Hela's ears. The first was an unnaturally loud heartbeat, like the roar of a motor engine, coming from right beside her.

The second was the sound of knocking at the door. The first noise didn't hold her attention for long. Her focus was entirely drawn to the second—a presence beyond the door.

An oppressive aura seeped in, triggering an instinctive discomfort in Hela. It was the primal fear humans felt when faced with something overwhelmingly dangerous.

Hela, powerful as she was, felt her unease morph into deep wariness and loathing.

"Wang Yu, are you home? Got company in there? Mind if I come in?" Sieg's calm, cultured voice called out from the doorway.

"I'll remember you, you lucky fellow," Hela said, her eyes locking onto Wang Yu. Her face, obscured by her hood, was as cold as a mask of ice.

Wang Yu's gaze was unfocused. He didn't seem to be looking at her...

With a sudden motion, Hela released him and leaped out the window with astonishing speed.

"I'm coming in, Wang Yu," Sieg announced again. The lock on the front door broke as the Professor stepped briskly into the room.

"Are you alright?" Sieg asked, lifting the bloodied Wang Yu from the ground. He pulled out a vial of medicine, intending to administer it.

Wang Yu suddenly spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

The blood hissed like boiling water, releasing white steam. The wounds all over Wang Yu's body began to seep with the same scalding blood, engulfing him in a veil of white vapor.

"Not this one... Over there..." Wang Yu croaked, pointing to a corner of the wall.

Sieg understood what Wang Yu was getting at immediately. Without further prompting, he uncovered a hidden compartment in the wall and retrieved a syringe with a long needle.

"Here," Wang Yu directed, pointing to his left chest where his heart lay.

The needle pierced his heart and delivered a specially modified stimulant into his bloodstream. The near-berserk state of his knight's secret art, Blood Tempest, began to subside. The muffled, deliberate rhythm of his heart, previously concealed, became audible again. The flow of boiling blood slowed.

"I'll remember her... Kill her... Quickly... I'm still too weak."

Ignoring the shock in Sieg's eyes as he took in Wang Yu's condition, Wang Yu stared in the direction in which Hela had fled.

The blood now marking her had sealed her fate. Her death was only a matter of time.