Chapter 89: Ser Hughway’s Report

Craig leaned back comfortably into the deep leather cushions of his throne, his golden-crimson eyes scanning the grand hall with absolute authority.

The Council of Knights was the highest martial assembly within the territory.

By imperial decree and ancient ducal law, whenever a Council of Knights was formally convened, all non-superhuman officials, servants, and civilian scribes were strictly forbidden from stepping foot inside the Audience Chamber.

Only those who possessed an awakened mana core and held a recognized martial rank were granted the privilege to stand before the altar.

Taking a deep, measured breath, Craig broke the heavy silence, his voice carrying clearly to every corner of the vast room.

"First," Craig began, his tone warm yet resolute, "I extend my congratulations to each and every one of you for a remarkably successful hunting expedition.

This annual festival could not have reached such a splendid climax without your full cooperation, discipline, and unwavering dedication to the borders of our Viscounty."

He paused, letting his gaze rest on the captains standing in the front ranks. "I am well aware that many of you were disappointed at not encountering the 2nd-Tier Alpha Abomination within the deep sectors of the Jeju Forest.

However, your efforts in clearing the outer perimeter were invaluable. As for that 2nd-Tier beast... I took it upon myself to hunt it down personally."

A low murmur rippled through the assembled knights, but Craig raised a hand smoothly, continuing before anyone could speak.

"Though I suffered severely for such recklessness," Craig said, a faint, sharp smirk playing on his lips, "the trial yielded its ultimate fruit. Through that battle, I broke through my previous ceiling and officially ascended into the class of a Sword Runner."

The moment the words left his lips, a collective wave of astonishment swept across the Audience Chamber.

While many of the knights had already suspected something fundamental had shifted the moment Craig walked into the room—sensing the sharper, far more intimidating atmospheric pressure radiating from his frame—hearing the direct confirmation from their sovereign sent a surge of pure pride through their veins.

To awaken a mana core and shatter the barrier into the Ranker realm as a Peak-stage Sword Runner in such an astonishingly short timeframe was a feat reserved only for absolute monsters of martial talent.

Their hearts swelled with intense reverence.

A Lord with such terrifying growth was proof that the future of the Viscounty was anchored to an unstoppable force.

"Every knight who participated in the expedition will receive substantial rewards," Craig added calmly. "Your merit points will be calculated precisely based on your confirmed kills, and the treasury will disburse your compensation before the night ends. You have my gratitude."

Having addressed the general assembly, Craig shifted his attention to the foot of the altar stairs, his eyes locking onto a towering, silver-haired figure.

"Ser Hughway," Craig called out softly.

The veteran Sword Master stepped out from the front line. In his broad, gauntleted left hand, Hughway carried a heavy, blood-stained black leather bag.

"My Lord Viscount," Hughway acknowledged, bowing his head respectfully.

Craig tilted his head, eyeing the dark, dripping bag. "What is inside that container, Ser Hughway?"

Without a word, Ser Hughway stepped closer to the base of the altar.

He unbuckled the iron clasp of the leather bag, reached inside, and casually pulled out two severed heads by their hair.

Craig recognized the first head immediately.

Even with half of its face terribly charred and blistered by dragonfire, the scarred features belonged unmistakably to the Peak-stage Sword Sage leader of the ghost-masked assassins who had ambushed him in the grove.

However, when Ser Hughway tossed the second head onto the polished marble floor, Craig’s eyes narrowed, and a deep frown carved into his brow.

THUD!

The second trophy rolled across the marble, coming to a halt at the foot of the altar.

It was a grotesque, blackened skull covered in coarse grey fur, featuring elongated, razor-sharp fangs and glowing, crystallized eye sockets.

The moment the object hit the floor, widespread gasps broke out among the assembled knights.

The room instantly devolved into tense, anxious whispering.

There was no mistake about it—that was the unmistakable, terrifying head of a 3rd-Tier Abomination!

Craig raised his right hand, and the Audience Chamber fell instantly back into absolute, dead silence.

"Explain, Ser Hughway," Craig commanded, his voice dropping into a cold, dangerous register.

"What transpired after Ser Damian departed?"

Ser Hughway nodded, taking another firm step forward. "My Lord, after First Dragonknight Damian withdrew to safeguard your return, I executed the Sword Sage assassin as ordered.

However, upon felling his body, my instincts alerted me to a critical anomaly. Despite being driven to absolute death, the assassin had refused to activate a single talent, relying solely on his True Sword Art."

Hughway cleared his throat, his deep voice resounding off the stone pillars. "I maintained a perimeter sweep using my martial perception and detected a secondary presence four hundred yards away.

Upon engaging him, I discovered the truth behind his survival. The assassin possessed a Unique-Grade talent centered on Duplication.

He had created an identical, fully functional physical duplicate prior to the ambush and hidden his true body in the outer tree lines. So long as his duplicate lived, his original body remained safe. But the moment his duplicate was destroyed, his consciousness transferred entirely to his hidden form."

Horrified reactions instantly washed over the faces of the Council.

Apart from Ser Gunther, who stood as a recognized Ranker among the local garrison, the vast majority of the knights present were Superhumans of the lower classes.

They possessed virtually no experience dealing with experienced Rankers who commanded complex, paradox-inducing talents—let alone Abominations that evolved through volatile traits.

The thought of fighting an assassin who could freely swap existences with a hidden duplicate sent a chill down their spines.

Craig, however, remained entirely unbothered on his throne.

His expression was an unreadable mask of absolute stone.

"Continue," Craig instructed calmly.

"Yes, My Lord," Hughway replied. "With his duplicate destroyed, the assassin possessed no secondary lives to fall back on. I thoroughly overpowered him in close-quarters combat and severed both of his legs to force an interrogation regarding his master’s identity. However..."

Hughway paused, his face darkening with grim memory. "...the moment I pressed him for answers, the sheer, suffocating terror of facing death completely shattered his mind.

His soul surrendered to the fear, causing his internal mana anchors to snap entirely. The Abyssal corruption dormant within his core triggered instantly and irreversibly."

Hughway gestured toward the grey-furred skull on the marble. "In less than ten seconds, his body mutated into a massive 3rd-Tier Lycan Abomination. The ambient mana in the grove shifted, briefly elevating the central sector of the Jeju Forest into a B-Level Danger Zone.

I engaged the monster immediately, utilized my Sky Splitting Sword art, and decapitated the beast before its Abyssal radiation could spread into the broader territory."

The entire room stood frozen in sheer shock.

A 3rd-Tier Abomination mutating mid-combat from a cornered Ranker was the stuff of nightmares—a catastrophe that could easily erase an entire military battalion if left unchecked.

Yet, while the knights murmured in horror, Craig remained completely silent atop his altar.

The mechanics of the Abyssal mutation did not surprise him in the slightest.

In his past life, before his regression, Craig had personally witnessed countless battlefields where broken Superhumans and defeated Rankers succumbed to their own despair, surrendering their sanity to the dormant corruption and mutating into grotesque abominations.

It was a tragic, horrifying reality of their world.

What truly struck Craig’s mind—what caused his golden-crimson eyes to burn with an icy, dangerous light—was a singular word that Ser Hughway had uttered during his initial report in the woods.

HYDRA.

The assassin’s final, fanatic cry before his execution echoed relentlessly through Craig’s thoughts:

’FOR THE GLORY OF HYDRA!’

Craig dug his fingertips deep into the carved armrests of his ironwood throne.

In his previous life, Craig had fought his way to the absolute apex of the continent, eventually usurping his bloodline to become the undisputed Duke of Rynchester.

He had commanded the grandest intelligence networks, decimated underground syndicates, and memorized every major power structure across the four continents.

Yet... he had never once heard of a secret order, criminal faction, or shadow syndicate named Hydra.

’How is that possible?’ Craig questioned mentally, his jaw clenching tightly. ’Had this organization gone completely extinct before I seized the Duchy in my past life? Were they wiped out by one of my successor siblings, or did they simply retreat so deep into the shadows that even my grand intelligence network missed them?’

More importantly, why were they targeting him now?

The Seventh Successor who had spent years hiding his true strength should not have warranted an elite strike team comprising five high-tier Rankers and a spatial assassin.

Craig had too many dark, pressing questions, and not a single soul in the room could offer him an answer.

And that ignorance infuriated him most of all.