Chapter 96: Framed?

Chapter 96: Framed?

For a moment, the boy’s heartbeat seemed to stop.

In truth, he didn’t understand why this Mage had suddenly attacked him. While there might have been some… or a great deal of animosity between them, the current scene, though chaotic, hadn’t yet reached a point of utter disregard. Killing him, the Duke’s legitimate son, in front of so many witnesses would mean no peaceful end even for a Mage. Unless the Mage was prepared to become a fugitive, but that would require evading Phoenix’s nationwide manhunt first, which would also include his own colleagues.

But now, the boy had no time to think this through. As the brief fraction of a second of vertigo passed, the scenery before his eyes had already changed completely!

In his vision, a twisted, burning face swayed and fell before him, the expanding screams assaulting his eardrums. The blade in the attacker’s hand, shimmering with black and blue flames, was already thrusting viciously towards his side!

But more terrifying than this blade, he instantly realized, were the two other attacks just like it! Three assassins dressed as nobles had taken positions to his left, right, and front! Three blades of different materials and styles, yet equally vicious, were aimed at his lower back, chest, and side!

Clearly, he had no time for thought… Constantine’s eyes narrowed, threads of crimson blooming in his vision!

The flow of time in the surrounding space suddenly slowed down. Everyone’s gaze instantly focused on him. Someone was screaming something, but in the boy’s ears now, the sound was slow and distorted, its meaning hard to grasp. Constantine mustered all his nerves, forcing his body to lean to one side.

This ability didn’t sound particularly flashy, but thinking about it, one could easily understand its power. Right now, even if someone fired a gun at him, he could easily see the bullet’s trajectory, making dodging it less fantastical. Although seeing and dodging were two different things, at least this judgment could prevent him from being shot unknowingly.

Enhanced muscles, greater strength, more astonishing explosive power, a more flexible body, capable of faster and more precise movements—these were all things a strong warrior needed. But Constantine knew these weren’t the most important. What truly played the most crucial role in close combat was the fighter’s neural reaction speed.

Think about it: if in battle, the surrounding time felt incredibly slow, stretched out countless times in your perception, even an opponent’s full-force attack would look like a gentle dance. Then, even if there was a certain disparity in strength, you were likely already assured of victory. Constantine was fortunate, as the thin silk gloves on his hands granted him extra agility. Normally, this slight increase in speed wouldn’t have a huge impact, but now, it was enough to reverse all unfavorable situations.

Weapons sliced through the linen fabric, the burning flames instantly curling the threads, but could not leave a wound on that body.

The three attacking assassins could indeed be called experts. Even though their target was reportedly not a martial figure, they still chose to ambush from behind, the most advantageous position, and seized the moment of his evasion to launch a coordinated three-person attack… This was the prudence befitting true experts.

Yet to their surprise, they had still underestimated the target in front of them. They watched as the boy easily slipped out of the range of their seemingly certain strike, as if their flawless coordinated attack had no effect at all. Their sure-hit attack missed. They swung their blades to pursue, but Constantine had already flipped backwards, leaving that terrifying zone!

Feeling the sharp pain transmitted by his nerves, the shock in Constantine’s mind was beyond description. Had he not gained this ability from the Demon God, that moment just now would likely have turned him into two bloody pieces of flesh!

He forcefully stepped onto a noble’s shoulder, using the push to flip again. The flow of time around him was extremely slow in his eyes, only his own breathing and heartbeat echoed incessantly in his ears. But the moment he landed, the boy suddenly lunged forward!

The three glimmers of light that clung to his back proved his decision correct. Three black figures fanned out, appearing in the corner of his vision!

“Lucky!” Constantine thought. The rapier meant for assassination brushed past the boy’s spine, but the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of a greenish tint on it.

If he hadn’t already known about these three, even if he had seen them, he would probably have become a corpse amidst this chain of attacks. Constantine twisted his body mid-air, the scimitar being drawn from his waist as he swung his hand. He deftly rotated his fingers, preparing to deliver a fatal strike upon landing.

Feet touching the ground, Constantine used the momentum to shift slightly back, then the muscles at his waist contracted violently, turning the backward movement into a forward charge!

Forward-drawing slash!

A spark flew from the mouth of the Adamantine Scimitar’s sheath, the black blade transforming into a flash of thunder! It carved a deep black, crescent-like arc in the air, slicing straight past one figure.

Tch! The sound from the impact point was thin, sharp… indicating almost no resistance to the cut. Assassins were not warriors; to ensure nimble movements, they were all lean and wiry, unable to equip heavy armor… Therefore, when faced with this swiftly swung Adamantine blade, the human body offered only weak, negligible resistance…

The two figures crossed. Constantine’s left foot pressed down, kicking up grass blades and dust. The swung scimitar traced an imperfect circle in the air before sliding back into its sheath with a soft schick sound.

Then, the black figure behind the boy landed, knelt, and then slightly unfolded… The pressure within the body released abruptly, the split chest and stomach twisted open, then slid apart diagonally, separating into two parts amidst gushing blood.

Whew!

Without a moment’s respite, two more weapons cut through the air towards him.

The shock in the assassins’ hearts was probably written on their faces. That flashing blade light was like a black bolt of lightning, or the scythe of the God of Death. Their companion hadn’t even reacted before being cut in two!

They hadn’t achieved their objective and had lost one member instead… But the assassination continued. The assassins were professionals; they wouldn’t easily give up an opportunity. Since invisibility was ineffective, they no longer worried about the sounds or visibility of their attacks. The frequency of the two weapons reached its peak, the sharp, whistling sounds of them cutting through the air were truly terrifying. They aimed to kill the target before everyone reacted and gathered around!

The Prince! Prince!

A series of exclamations rang out, then died down. The panic in everyone’s eyes was completely replaced by astonishment. They stared dumbfounded as the familiar figure used unbelievable movements to dodge the three-person assault and, in the next instant, directly cut one of them in half at the waist! The two remaining enemies continued their assault. In the whooshing sounds, the air seemed to sharply slice through his clothes and robe edges like blades, yet it couldn’t cause any substantial harm to him. Those precise but extremely dangerous evasive movements made everyone momentarily forget the tension of being in danger. A few even unconsciously cheered…

“Damn persistent specters!”

Unlike the outsiders’ perception of him navigating danger with ease, Constantine was undoubtedly in a sorry state at this moment. He began to run, using every obstacle around him, even other people, to constantly dodge the rapier attacks.

The most profound martial arts were just methods of avoiding enemy attacks, breaching their defense, and harming them. Considering pure speed and physical condition, the gap between Constantine and the assassins wasn’t that large. That strange time perception granted him neural reaction speed and muscle control became the key to victory, making his movements precise to an almost horrifying degree in that instant. His body seemed to move through the gaps in time, his bizarre movements as flexible as a snake’s. Even the daggers and iron claws in the assassins’ hands, appearing in swathes with incredible speed, could only be dodged by him with the slightest margin at the moment of impact.

But the coordination of the two weapons was flawless. The assassins in black clothing and armor agilely wielded their weapons. Constantine’s scimitar seemed useless now; he had no idea how many thrusts he had dodged. If not for the enhanced neural reflex ability, he would’ve been turned into a sieve long ago! Meanwhile, the surrounding helpers’ attempts were rendered meaningless by this speed. Only an arrow shot by Miss William barely eased the offensive, allowing Constantine to dodge a fatal attack!

The woods were close at hand!

The surrounding sounds broke down into meaningless single notes. Constantine’s face was pale. Every muscle fiber in his body squeezed and rubbed against each other, driven fiercely by his nerves to exert all its strength. But deep down, he clearly knew he had to end this wretched state quickly. He wasn’t a legendary drow ranger from tales, nor a tireless metal construct. Even with solid training, his small body’s stamina couldn’t possibly handle this dangerous, prolonged exchange!

Yet his movements remained without any rash advance. The boy knew he had to cautiously seek an opportunity.

The opportunity came the next instant! Constantine suddenly ducked, letting the thrust aimed at his forehead pass. Before the iron claw attack arrived, he used all his strength to flip backwards. Using the time during the roll on the ground, he quickly adjusted the position of the Sleeve Crossbow in his hand. When he rolled out of the shadow of a tree, the assassins’ pursuit was already upon him.

The distance between them shortened to an extreme degree. The boy could even see the upturned corner of the mouth under the cloth covering the assassin’s face. So without hesitation, he thrust out his scimitar… and, as expected, it was easily blocked by the iron claw on the assassin’s hand!

But what followed was Constantine’s killing move. He raised a finger and pointed at the battlefield. “Grease Spell!” The light, rhythmic voice almost sounded like fast-paced rap. In a flash of light, an oil well appeared out of thin air beneath the forest floor, a large patch of grease gushing forth where his finger pointed.

This first-level spell might have great effect in the hands of a great Mage, but Constantine was merely a Warlock Apprentice. The grease he summoned only covered a small area of a few square feet; its actual effect was limited, merely hindering the opponent’s movements slightly.

But that slight hindrance was all Constantine needed.

The assassin landing at high speed couldn’t avoid it and stepped into the slippery grease. Pushed by gravity, even the assassin’s excellent balance couldn’t keep him standing on this arcane, virtually frictionless surface. He could only wobble unsteadily, trying to maintain balance and leap forward to escape the greasy area. But as his body became airborne, with a twang of the mechanism, three black darts flew towards him in a triangular formation!

The unlucky fellow met the crossbow bolts head-on. His reaction was worthy of an assassin; he used his waist strength to shift his entire body slightly while thrusting out his iron claw, trying to avoid this terrifying attack. Indeed, his iron claw did deflect one bolt. But upon contact, the immense force instantly knocked aside his hand, which had no leverage in mid-air. The second cold star followed, piercing through his forehead with a strange squelching sound.

The Dwarven master once again proved his craftsmanship with actual results. The force on the crossbow bolt even threw the unfortunate assassin into a backflip. This shock undoubtedly made the other assassin hesitate for a moment. The charging assassin immediately slowed his pace. So, when he passed his fallen comrade, he suddenly found his target had vanished.

Glancing back at his companion on the ground—the guy’s forehead was spewing disgusting pink, viscous fluid. The steel tube embedded in his skull had released all the pressure within the cranial cavity! The assassin tightened his grip on his dagger, warily stopping his advance.

This guy was clearly getting nervous. While the intelligence said the young man they were dealing with did possess decent martial skills, the person before him was completely different from the records—precise movements, crossbow bolts, even spells… To be exact, he seemed just as qualified as an assassin as they were. On the Continent, no fighter carried such delicate crossbows, and the pride of nobles or knights made them disdain such things. So there was only one answer: the person before him wasn’t the target, but a decoy meant to lure them.

But the person who had killed his two companions now stood not far away, his scimitar released from his hand, his bolts likely spent, his spell just used requiring time before reuse—unless he was a Mage of considerable level… But that seemed impossible. Nobody was both an excellent assassin and an excellent Mage simultaneously… So, attack?

The hesitation lasted only briefly. The next moment, he charged! He had to kill this fellow professional, otherwise escaping would be extremely difficult even if he fled. Excellent assassins were also excellent trackers; they knew every method of escape!

The assassin charged, his whole body almost becoming an arrow. But then he was utterly horrified. The young man before him stretched out his hand at the same time he charged, strange light gathering in that palm.

He could still cast a spell? How was that possible? Concentration was the most important skill for Mages. But even a great Mage couldn’t maintain focus while rapidly retreating from an enemy! Nor in such a short time…

Before he could think further, the assassin used his last bit of strength to adjust his body, trying to dodge that hand and its extension line. But he didn’t notice the strange, triumphant smile on the hand’s owner’s face. So, just as the assassin dodged the shining right hand, in the moment their figures crossed, intense pain spread from his chin. The impact force from their relative motion transmitted into his brain, instantly stripping him of all consciousness.

“Just fooling you… Spells are really useful things…”

Shaking his slightly numb left hand, the boy pulled up the scimitar that had just fallen to the ground. He lifted the cloth covering the assassin’s face with the tip, then carefully examined the iron claw in the assassin’s hand. But aside from recognizing it as a standard assassin weapon, he found no clues. Then Constantine shook his head; his actions were undoubtedly redundant. These guys were clearly highly professional assassins; certainly, nothing valuable would be found on them.

“What happened just now? A Teleportation Spell?” Constantine looked around, noticing he hadn’t moved far. Yet he had mysteriously appeared at the center of the crowd, seemingly right where the Prince had been. He furrowed his brows, deducing this was the effect of the Scroll the Mage had used earlier.

“Likely a modified displacement trick… A high-level Conjuration spell. It can swap the caster with any person within sight, while also altering the caster’s appearance to match. But this one manifested its effect on someone else, clearly…” Evidently, the Archmage’s pedagogical habit kicked in again, launching into a detailed explanation.

Constantine’s brow furrowed even deeper… But before he could interrupt the stream of technical terms, he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. The scenery before him darkened, his mind went blank, and intense, needle-like pain shot through his entire body. This combined effect made him collapse to the ground, almost losing consciousness on the spot!

“What… what’s happening?” Constantine tried to push himself up twice but could only prop up his upper body, gasping for breath. Even this small action made him clearly feel the intense soreness in the muscle fiber bundles of his body. Accumulated soreness stimulated his nerves, coalescing into unbearable, strange pain. As this pain arose, coldness followed immediately. In just those few short breaths, a layer of moisture covered his entire body. The hot sweat cooled instantly in the air, clinging to his skin surface like ice, almost stripping away all his body heat!

The boy opened his mouth wide. More intense pain washed over his body in waves. He collapsed to the ground again, curling up into a twitching ball!