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Tom stepped forward unarmed, his steps as sure as they were firm. He knew that the gaze of every dungeoneer that was gawking upon the proceedings was on his back in that moment.
A few months ago, he would’ve balked at such attention, but the present Tom found himself unperturbed as a bare-knuckled Thomas Lowe confronted four Royal Knights, a designation that the Nameless District both sought to achieve and paradoxically, feared.
“Will you dishonor us by not drawing your blade?” Serawin asked, his calm and gentle demeanor replaced by an angry rebuke.
“My combat style does not require it,” Tom nonchalantly replied, an easy going smile apparent on his visage.
“Do not complain if you are injured, or worse,” A blonde-haired Royal Knight whose name Tom did not know ominously declared, his expression harsh as he drew a scimitar.
“Did you not hear the miss?” Tom asked, the jibe in his tone intentional. “She authorized the duel, so either come at me or clear the way for her,” He taunted, knowing that distancing himself Nvein and Serawin was the best way he could help them avoid responsibility for the same.
It seemed that he had pushed the Royal Knights too far, as Nvein broke out into a wordless charge.
Tom watched for the flare of abilities, but none came.
It seemed like the Royal Knights had no intention to kill him, given his position as Valeria’s guard and the assassination claim she had raised. Well, at least not in the presence of so many witnesses.
If there was a traitor amongst them, he would strike at the moment Tom lowered his guard.
But from prior experience, he knew that the deadly strike would not be directed at him.
Nvein swung his blade, unleashing an arcing slash that targeted his right knee instead of anywhere vital.
Tom refused to budge, his lips curling upwards into a mischievous smile as he let his palms expand outward before he brought them together in a flourish of momentum.
A loud clap echoed outwards as Tom stilled the deadly blade’s momentum, clasping it and locking it in place between his cupped palms.
A trickle of blood trailed down from his palm and down his left arm, but that was all the visible damage Nvein had been able to deal to him.
Tom allowed Nvein’s features to warp in complete astonishment as he pressed down on his blade, only to find that it simply refused to budge under Tom’s grip.
Tom lashed out with a kick that contained only a fraction of strength. It was enough to send Nvein skidding backwards, the suddenness of the attack causing his grip over his own blade to escape him.
The blonde-haired Royal Knight stilled Nvein’s trail through the sand and gravel underneath him, catching him and upholding his dogged effort to remain standing.
The scorn on the blonde-haired Royal Knight’s visage turned to grim caution.
“If you want a fight,” Serawin began, stepping forward even as his gaze flickered to Nvein and assessing his situation before refocusing on Tom, “Then, we shall oblige.”
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This time, it was not one Royal Knight that charged at him, but three.
Serawin, the blonde-haired Knight and a third, a grayish-white haired woman that appeared to be in her late thirties, charged.
Tom broke out into an amused chuckle as he flipped Nvein’s blade to make it his own. He was familiar with it, so Tom found wielding it no challenge as redirected the thrust from a rapier to the side.
Sparks flew in the air as the grayish-white haired woman watched her dangerous thrust miss Tom’s shoulderbone by over an inch. Her eyes went wide with realization the moment she realized that her blade had not been parried, it had merely been pushed to the side after Tom had let it slip past his guard.
Such casual indifference in the face of a powerful attack meant that… it had never been a threat to begin with.
Tom landed a quick palm on the grayish-white haired woman’s side, sending her stumbling into the charge of the blonde-haired knight.
That left him to focus on Serawin, the Royal Knight who had so kindly escorted him out of the Noble District after feeding him a meal.
He closed the distance between them with a short sword that had a light green aura ensconcing it.
His blade hand shifted and in response, the short sword blurred forward. If Tom had to wager a guess, he would consider the short sword artefact to have a movement enhancing effect.
Of course, Tom had no trouble parrying the first strike and the nature of Nvein’s blade meant that it too, got faster upon every successful parry.
For a long moment, as Serawin and Tom crossed blades repeatedly in quick succession, it appeared as if they were evenly matched.
Then, Serawin’s short sword went careening into the sky as Tom disarmed him with a clever flick of Nvein’s blade.
“You toy with us,” The grayish-white haired woman snarled from behind Tom and the next thing he knew, his senses picked up on a sharp, pointed icicle heading for him with blinding speed.
A mirror appeared out of nowhere to shield Tom’s back, absorbing the deadly blow without the slightest difficulty before disappearing in it’s entirety.
“Tut-tut,” Tom intoned with a shake of his head, as Serawin froze.
No longer seeing Serawin as a threat, Tom turned around to find Aleph and Zirel holding their blades to the two Royal Knight’s throats.
They had not even gotten the time to react, let alone resist.
“If I wanted you to interfere, I would’ve told you so,” Tom rolled his eyes at the performance. Aleph and Zirel knew that he had been in no real danger from the Royal Knight’s attack.
“They made the first move. Never expect Noble lapdogs to play fair,” Aleph replied, her tone practically radiating her distaste for those who had pledged their allegiance to Noble Families in exchange for their loyalties.
Tom shrugged, before turning his gaze to the now unarmed Nvein, who studied him with a scorching intensity.
“Are we done with this charade?” Tom asked. “Or do you want to keep going until this gets dangerous. Let us pass Royal Knight, you cannot stop me or my companions,” Tom declared, his tone containing iron within.
“We concede,” Nvein replied bitterly, though he did not sound entirely defeated.
Aleph and Zirel retracted their blades before retreating a few steps, still vary of counter attacks by the freed Knights.
“You let my knights live and true to your word, they are unscathed. If you do not intend to harm us, then perhaps you would be willing to answer a question of mine before you pass?”
“Depends on the question,” Tom replied, having returned to Valeria’s side.
“What is your name, one so young yet so terrifyingly powerful?” He asked, a tinge of what Tom could only interpret as excitement audible in his tone.
Tom smiled.
“My name is Synrak Veralis, first of my name. Those who have done no wrong have no reason to fear my blade. All I seek is to deliver Valeria to her father, before I depart these lands for far-away pastures,” Tom announced both his pseudonym and his intentions.
Gasps and muted exclaimations sounded out from behind him as the dungeoneers struggled to contain their uproar. The same was true for the Royal Knights, who warily retreated from Synrak’s presence with stunned expressions.
The very same Synrak Veralis who had conquered the final sector of the Zelez Dungeon was now standing at the doorsteps of the Noble District.
“You cannot stop us. Let us pass, now!” Valeria decreed and this time, the Royal Knights did not offer resistance.