Calm Confrontation - 2

Both Issac and Ron froze instantly as a voice called out from behind them. The voice was calm yet commanding, carrying a suffocating presence that pressed down on them like an invisible weight.

"You're a knight, Ron. Why are you behaving like a common bandit, attacking someone without reason?"

From the shadows emerged a tall, broad-shouldered man, his imposing figure fully illuminated by the pale moonlight.

"S-Sir…" Ron stammered, his face draining of color. His sword slipped from his trembling hands, falling to the ground with a sharp metallic clang. Slowly, he turned to face the newcomer, his knees threatening to give way under him.

Issac felt the weight of the man's presence too. It wasn't just physical—it was as though the very air around him thickened, pressing down on his chest. The man's voice and actions were calm, even gentle, but his mere presence carried a silent warning: Do something foolish, and you'll regret it. For the first time in a long while, Issac felt powerless.

"Attacking someone without properly listening to their reasoning is far from chivalrous, Ron," the man said gently, stepping closer. His large hand came to rest on Ron's shoulder, the motion unhurried but purposeful.

The moment his hand touched Ron, the knight's entire body began to tremble violently, as if death itself had laid a finger on him.

'What's with this old man? He's not even doing anything, but this guy's acting like he's staring at the Grim Reaper,' Issac thought, his brow furrowed in confusion as he observed Ron's fearful reaction.

The man's expression didn't change as he continued, his voice soft yet piercing. "And attacking someone who could kill you in a single strike—without even the need for a weapon—is not only unchivalrous but plain imprudent."

Ron collapsed to his knees, his trembling growing worse as the words sank in. His lips moved, but all that came out were faint, incoherent mumbles, as though his fear had stolen his voice.

Issac, still watching from the side, couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and unease. He hadn't raised his voice or made any overt threats, yet he had reduced Ron—a knight armed and ready to fight—into a quivering mess.

The squad leader paid no attention to Ron, who lay on the ground, quivering uncontrollably as though possessed by an unseen force. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes darted around like those of a hunted animal.

"It's impressive that you're moving about so easily with such a scar. Your recovery is faster than I expected, Arthur," the squad leader remarked, his sharp gaze fixed intently on Isaac.

"Thank you, Squad Leader," Isaac replied, bowing slightly, his voice steady despite the unease lingering in the air.

The man's expression softened. "You don't need to call me 'Squad Leader.' My name is Zeigfried Williams," he said gently, his tone carrying no trace of the overwhelming authority it had moments ago.

Isaac noticed a significant shift in the atmosphere. The oppressive weight he'd felt earlier—the kind that made his knees feel weak and his chest tight—had vanished. It was as if Zeigfried had consciously withdrawn that suffocating aura, leaving Isaac feeling almost normal again.

"Well," Zeigfried continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips, "to be so young and already at the 4th stage of Sword Energy... You're quite the talented fellow. I didn't reach that level until my thirties, and here you are, not even 25, already at 4th stage mastary."

Isaac blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected praise.

'What' he thought, his mind racing. 'He was dead serious and terrifying just a minute ago, and now he's casually complimenting me like we're old friends. What is with this man?'

Zeigfried's demeanor seemed to shift again as he observed Isaac's reaction. For a moment, Isaac couldn't decide if he was more unnerved or confused by the man.

"Thanks for thinking so highly of me, Sir Zeigfreid," He said.

"Although I've already observed your actions, I would still like to hear the explanation from your own mouth," Zeigfreid said, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of command that made Isaac sit up a little straighter.

"Yes, sir. I'll explain the situation," Isaac responded, his tone respectful.

"Good. Follow me to my office—and bring that dead log with you," Zeigfreid added, gesturing toward Hiruken, who now lay unconscious on the ground, his face pale from excessive blood loss.

Isaac glanced at Hiruken briefly, then nodded. With some effort, he hefted the unconscious man onto his shoulder and followed Zeigfreid.

The "office" turned out to be a large tent, more spacious and comfortable than the others. The interior was organized, with racks of armor and swords along one side and shelves stocked with healing items and provisions on the other. A faint warmth emanated from a small brazier in the corner, taking the edge off the chilly night air.

"Put him down there," Zeigfreid instructed, pointing to a spot on the floor. Isaac carefully lowered Hiruken, ensuring he was lying flat, before taking a seat as instructed.

"Go ahead. Explain," Zeigfreid said, seating himself behind a sturdy wooden desk. His sharp eyes locked onto Isaac, giving the impression that no detail would escape him.

Isaac took a deep breath to steady himself, then began recounting the events in detail: the confrontation, the motives, and the actions he had taken. His voice was steady, though he couldn't help but feel the weight of Zeigfreid's gaze as he spoke.

When he finally explained the reason behind his actions—how Hiruken had been bullying and abusing Ethan—Zeigfreid's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

"So that's what's been happening," Zeigfreid muttered, his voice low but laced with irritation. His fingers drummed against the desk as he processed the information.

Isaac watched as the squad leader's expression darkened. For a moment, the air in the tent grew heavy again, though not as suffocating as before.

"This freeloader," Zeigfreid growled, his voice thick with anger. He clenched his fist, the motion emphasizing the tension in his broad shoulders. "Right under my nose, no less."

(End of Chapter)

*****

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