The Villain's Retirement-Chapter 46: Don’t leave (1)

In order to leave without exposing his skills, Ard’s senses discreetly absorbed the whole surroundings: the faint shifts of air, the cadence of distant footsteps, the available escape routes. His eyes flicked briefly toward a dark alley.

The Duke narrowed his eyes and swallowed.

’What is this fear?’

For a fleeting moment, instinct screamed at him to draw his sword and strike the young man down where he stood.

Reynard forced himself to pause. He analyzed his emotions clearly. Maybe because Ard was cladded in blood at the moment, but an unnatural presence clung to him, seeping into the air and gnawing at the nerves. The effect was subtle—but devastatingly effective against the weaker knights.

Noticing their unease, Reynard shifted his gaze toward them.

A pressure, quiet yet absolute, settled over the ranks.

The trembling stopped at once. The knights straightened, frozen under their Duke’s silent command.

Only then did Reynard step forward.

’We have him surrounded. Yet it feels like we do not.’

Reynard assessed, appreciating the smell of uncertainty his guts were screaming.

’They said he’s a shadow swordmage. Of all attributes, it had to be that.’

Shadow swordmages and mages were exceedingly rare. According to the records, almost every one of them in history was proficient in concealment and escape. And those who failed to master such arts often ended up as assassins.

’It makes sense,’ Reynard thought. ’A shadow swordmage this young and this powerful could lie low for years without anyone noticing.’

His expression hardened.

’I don’t know how far he’s mastered his arts—but I can’t let him go. During these times, it’s too risky.’

Reynard believed he does not have the luxury to find out how much Ard had over his attribute.

"Wait." He spoke gently.

The word escaped from Reynard’s mouth before pride or title could stop it. He deliberately slung his greatsword onto his back, a clear gesture that he meant no harm.

"Please... don’t leave," the Duke continued, an unusual edge of unease in his tone. For a brief moment, he looked almost... flustered. "My instincts are telling me you will. And I would very much prefer that you don’t."

The knights accompanying him facepalmed themselves, or exchanged amused and embarrassed glances. Others rubbed their temples in quiet embarrassment.

’He’s so pitiful...’

Gary thought faintly.

Faller, however, watched in silence.

’If the Duke is asking this openly... then he truly believes he couldn’t stop him if he tried.’

Reynard waited patiently for Ard’s response.

As he did, his gaze drifted across the carnage—

The blood-slick stones, the bodies strewn across the street.

Then his eyes fell on the young dark-haired girl that had fallen to her knees and then to Gary who was filled with wounds all over his body including his face and neck.

’There’s only one explanation,’ Reynard thought. ’He realized Patriarch Mur’s daughter was working with the attackers... and tried to kill her.’

His expression hardened inwardly.

’Still... to overpower Gary—hailed as a sword prodigy—without suffering so much as a scratch...’

And yet, what unsettled him more was not the strength—but the expression with which Ard had killed.

’Was it because he’d been on his own since childhood?’ Reynard wondered, seeing Ard’s expressionless face, ’I have heard that he had been orphaned since he was very young, his village burned, his parents were probably killed during the war. Goodness, is this the result of such a lifestyle? Hah, well, I guess these assassins got what they deserved.’

Reynard deliberately smiled at Ard. He had faced assassins, powerful and gigantic monsters, battlefield prodigies, and even demons. And he could tell that the young man before him was no different.

’I can’t let him go right now. Otherwise, who knows what would happen?’

Still receiving no response, Reynard spoke again. "We won’t do anything to you," the Duke said carefully, his smile bright and deliberately casual, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. He even raised a thumb. "We mean no harm. You... did a good job."

The knights stared at him as if he had lost his mind.

It was difficult to reconcile this behavior with the man they had served for years—the composed Duke, the strongest knight in the Duchy, a figure who inspired both respect and fear. And yet, that alone spoke volumes.

Ard must be the real deal.

The knights respected their Duke deeply. They knew that, despite his overwhelming strength, Reynard preferred restraint and detested unnecessary conflict.

’But this is a massacre...’one of them thought grimly, tightening his grip on his weapon. ’That guy is dangerous. We can’t let our guard down if he also attacks us.’

Ard’s expression was the same.

He was aware what he probably looked like at the moment. There were corpses at his feet. There were people groaning in pain or passed out with severed arms and some would probably die from blood loss. Blood was everywhere, including the walls of the carriage.

Ard finally lifted his gaze.

It moved past the Duke, past the frozen knights, and briefly swept over the bodies littering the street—as though he were confirming something already known.

"...You’re mistaken," he said quietly. "These people suddenly attacked us and even killed the driver. It also turns out the woman was their ally."

Reynard smiled, finally relieved.

"Yes this... is a misunderstanding. Don’t worry, we’ll know that. I’ll explain the situation later." He said, patting Ard’s shoulders. "We won’t blame you for anything."

Ard looked at him then at everyone. Clearly, there was something he doesn’t know yet.

After smiling at Ard, Reynard’s footsteps fell on the cobblestones again, each one echoing through the street. Then his eyes landed on the girl who had collapsed to her knees. His stare made her stiffen, instinctively bracing under the scrutiny of a masterful observer.

Then the Duke looked at the assassins, some of them still alive. Right now, most of the enemies that had fled had also been probably been apprehended by the force that he had prepared beforehand.

A faint, controlled smile touched his lips. It is a shame that some had died. But Reynard was more than happy with the results.