Chapter 72: The Skin of a Fake

Suya spurred his warhorse, galloping to the crest of the hill. His gaze fell upon a scene: Hector, the leader of the Companion Cavalry, raising his massive lance, its gleaming tip poised to pierce Lucan's brow. Lucan, the Knight of the Round who had pledged loyalty to him, the fraudulent con artist with ulterior motives, looked like he was about to die.

As agreed, he had lured the Companion Cavalry out, and after his unexpected exposure, he had used all his strength to stall their advance, creating an opportunity and gaining time for the main army's breakthrough. Without any hesitation, Suya immediately grasped this.

However, having grasped this fact, Suya found himself unable to comprehend what was unfolding before his eyes. Why would this con artist do such a thing? Why would he go to such lengths? Why would he sacrifice his life for him?

For some reason, in his gradually reddening vision, the entire world seemed to suddenly halt. Questions swirled in Suya's mind, making him feel increasingly bewildered. In the almost solidified world, he could observe everyone's expressions.

Just like in the past, in crowds, in groups, in the 'society' composed of countless individuals, he would realize his own 'otherness' within this vast concept and be so afraid he couldn't sleep, often waking up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat.

So, he would cower in a corner, desperately observing and imitating with these eyes, making himself seem like a 'person', even though Suya was very certain he was a person, possessing everything a human should.

But, this intuition, this beastly instinct that seemed to be naturally embedded in his muscles, told him: You're not! Be careful! Hide quickly! Like a small beast cloaked in human skin, trembling, living under the noses of countless hunters, meekly begging for scraps before their 'blades' that differed from the slash-and-burn era.

They wielded high-pressure water cannons that could easily slice scales, hypersonic missiles more terrifying than dragon's breath, and nuclear bombs more horrifying than the most powerful magic, capable of instantly melting hundreds of thousands of people and a giant city-state.

It felt as if the moment he ripped off his 'fake' disguise, he would immediately face condemnation, be skinned and flayed, have his neck gnawed on by countless greedy, long-life-craving elites who would gorge themselves on his fresh blood—just like the evil dragons in fairy tales who were always vanquished by heroes. Suya sometimes couldn't help but fantasize: Am I truly such an evil dragon?

Even the concept of 'evil' couldn't hold true. In an era where mystery had receded, he was more like a small 'hungry dragon' that could never be satiated, wandering among human society, a monster born in the wrong era. His scales had atrophied, his horns hadn't grown, what he exhaled from his throat wasn't fire but burps smelling of chives, his claws were like tofu dregs, easily clipped with nail clippers.

He could only use a fawning, almost obsequious attitude, feigning smiles, trembling as he pleased the hunters who only instilled fear in him—individuals who felt like insects he could crush at any moment. He tried to disguise himself, the prey, as a hunter, so he could integrate into this group.

He lived reclusively, never displaying too much of his ability, to hide his 'eyesight' that far surpassed normal humans—his only true anomaly. He endured his craving for 'wealth', his revelry in 'slaughter', and all the 'natural instincts' he should have possessed.

He lived like this.

Living in fear.

Living in trepidation.

With the thought of never becoming an enemy to 'humans' more terrifying than any monster, like an elephant that had finally learned how to beg for life at gunpoint, kneeling on both knees.

Living humbly.

Until—

In the blink of an eye, Suya arrived in this world.

Upon first seeing the Macedonian army marching in formation, and after killing those two Macedonian scouts, Suya felt not fear, but—

An ecstatic joy, suppressed deep within his heart!

However, the humility he had always used to beg for his life vigilantly suppressed this arrogance and ecstasy. He continued to approach the people and events he encountered in this world with a probing stance and disguise, instinctively and cautiously.

Until he met 'Merry,' 'Lucan,' and 'Dagonet.'

They were like circus clowns, gathering around a 'fake' like him for their own respective purposes. They were also like kobolds serving a dragon in a Western fantasy world, constantly running around to help him gather food and escape danger.

Their significance to Suya was like a temporary sanctuary, built by coincidence and accident, in a dangerous world full of hunters licking blood from their blades. It was a utopia populated only by concepts of anomaly, non-human entities, fakes, deserters, gamblers, and swindlers.

Yes, for Suya, this was his comfort zone, his ideal homeland. A place where he could unreservedly display his 'abnormal' side, stretch his limbs, even drool openly in his sleep, without worrying about being electrocuted in the middle of the night, tied up, and sliced apart in a laboratory. It was simply the lair he had always dreamed of!

He genuinely didn't care what the swindlers, gamblers, and deserters wanted to use him for. After all, Suya, accustomed to humbly integrating into any 'group,' knew very well that to gain something, one always had to give something.

Now, in the frozen world, Suya, unable to stop frantically dissecting himself due to this doubt, gradually awakened to the emotions he had hidden deepest in his heart, emotions he dared not speak of to outsiders, even deceiving himself about. What he most desired, it turned out, was such an absurd 'ideal homeland.' What he most craved, it turned out, was a group of people he could communicate with on the same wavelength, regardless of whether they were truly human or not.

And what he feared most was merely that feeling of—

Loneliness—that he could feel at any moment, even when surrounded by billions of people.

The world began to regain its vibrancy. His nostrils once again caught the peculiar fragrance of soil mixed with trampled grass roots.

Before his eyes, lines of text quietly emerged:

[You have chosen to reveal a part of 'Mimicry Forgery'.]

[Your Identification talent has disappeared, solidified into the Demonic Eye: Eye of the Red Dragon.]

[Eye Bloodline activated, magical power drastically increased to: D-.]

[Battle Mark begins to burn.]

[Sword Qi begins to link.]

[You have successfully acquired the class - Swordsman (Saber).]

[Your awakened Crest Battle Technique is: Red Dragon's Lair, Guardian of the Fake Utopia (Ex).]

Suya slightly raised his head. In his scarlet vision, the spiraling ley lines within the earth and the invisible mana particles floating in the air, forming ribbons, were clearly visible, as if he could reach out and touch them. He raised his hand, and with an almost instinctive gesture, grabbed one of the ribbons.

['Greater Source' link successful.]

Crimson light bloomed in the center of his palm. Massive amounts of mana converged, pouring into the reins tightly gripped in his hand. Suya gritted his teeth, his face contorted in a ferocious expression as he looked towards the southern side of the hill, towards the semi-heroic knight who was about to seize his 'treasure.' An extreme, terrifying rage suddenly exploded in his mind!

"Lucan!!!"

He roared the name of his 'treasure.'

Then, with his other hand, he pulled the reins, unleashing the remaining one-time power of this Noble Phantasm!

With both hands gripping two crimson ribbons, Suya was like someone holding two wings, or perhaps placing himself on a taut slingshot's elastic cord.

In the next instant—

The Mana Slingshot launched him!

A shuttle-shaped crimson beam carried Suya flying out!

In just a flash, he shot before Hector, revealing a savage grin to the thief.

Then, he threw a punch!

His fist tore through the clouds and air, whistling, forming circular sonic boom shockwaves around his arm, slamming fiercely towards Hector's face!

Hector's pupils abruptly constricted, then, in a sight that slightly unnerved Suya, he released his lance, swung his ape-like arm, and in an instant, clenched his fist, meeting Suya's punch with his own!

This was merely the most basic [Hook].

"Peng!"

Circular shockwaves swept across a 50-meter radius! Both men flew backward simultaneously.

Hector, the demi-hero, had actually taken a punch augmented by a C-rank Noble Phantasm with his bare hands and remained unharmed! (Due to angle issues, and Noble Phantasm usage issues.)

And Suya, the Advanced Swordsman, was about to face his first battle of near despair in his career!