Time-Limited

A bright light spread across the road, illuminating everything around.

The attackers froze, blinded by the flash, their weapons trembling in their hands, their breath hitching in shock. They hadn't expected this. None of them knew that Reinhard wielded light magic—a rarity among aristocrats, especially those from House Deyra.

But this was only the beginning.

Reinhard moved forward like lightning, his sword whistling through the air, leaving behind blurred afterimages.

— "A-ah…?"

The first attacker didn't even understand what had happened when his body split in two.

Blood splattered onto the ground, soaking the dusty road in crimson stains.

The second barely managed to stumble backward, but Reinhard, wasting no time, spun on his heel and slashed across his chest.

Metal tore through flesh and bone, and the attacker collapsed to the ground, convulsing in his final moments.

The remaining three snapped out of their shock, realizing their comrades were dying one by one.

— "Kill him! All three of us!" one of them roared, charging forward with his sword raised.

They tried to attack from different angles, surrounding Reinhard. A classic tactic—distract and strike from behind.

But…

Reinhard bent at the last moment, dodging the first strike while slashing the attacker's throat, then plunged his blade into the second's heart, piercing straight through his ribcage.

Warm blood drenched his hand.

The third, paralyzed by what he was witnessing, took a step back, but it was already too late.

Reinhard twisted and severed his sword arm in one precise motion.

— "A-a-a-a!" came the agonized scream.

The severed arm fell to the ground, fingers still tightly clutching the sword's hilt.

The last surviving attacker collapsed to his knees, clutching the bloody stump to his chest. He trembled like a cornered beast.

— "P-please…" he whimpered, his voice breaking into a pitiful rasp.

Reinhard silently stepped closer, his gaze boring into the wounded man's face.

— "Who sent you?" His voice was cold, devoid of emotion.

— "I… I can't say…"

Reinhard raised his sword, and immediately, the captive began speaking faster.

— "We were ordered… It was…"

Reinhard smirked.

— "Just as I thought."

He already had his suspicions.

But now, he had confirmation.

— "F-forgive me…" the captive started to plead, but he never got the chance to finish.

The sword flashed upward and, with a single precise stroke, severed his head.

The head tumbled into the dust, the lifeless body collapsing after it.

Reinhard flicked the blood off his blade and calmly sheathed it.

— "Useless puppets."

He cast one last glance at the bloodied battlefield, then turned and headed back to the carriage.

The coachman, who had been hiding behind the wheel, peeked out, his entire body trembling in terror.

— "M-my lord…?"

Reinhard shot him a cold look.

— "We're moving on."

The coachman scrambled onto the driver's seat, urging the horses forward.

The wheels creaked against the road, and the carriage set off once more.

At last, Reinhard arrived at his destination.

Before him towered a colossal structure—a massive magical circle etched into the stone floor. Runes glowed with a soft blue light, radiating an aura of power and grandeur.

This was a portal, connecting the empire's territories.

The guards stationed at the entrance bowed respectfully upon seeing him.

— "Lord Reinhard, everything is ready for your transfer."

Without a word, Reinhard stepped forward, setting foot on the stone circle.

Instantly, the space around him distorted, the air thickening with pure mana.

The world dimmed for a moment… and then shifted…