The intense, burning silver light finally began to subside, retreating into the floor like melting snow. Raymond blinked away the remaining water from his stinging eyes, his vision gradually sharpening as the haze cleared.
Standing directly between him and the broken doorway were three towering figures.
Raymond stared, his mouth slightly open. These weren’t standard medieval foot soldiers. They were knights, clad in the finest armor Raymond had ever seen. The armor was forged from a dark, polished metal that captured the faint light of the room, casting deep reflections. It was full-body, sleek, and perfectly form-fitting. There was absolutely nothing bulky, clunky, or ugly about it. Instead of the massive, awkward plate armor Raymond expected from historical dramas, these suits were engineered to contour perfectly to their muscular frames, emphasizing broad shoulders and lean waists while promising absolute mobility. Long, elegant steel swords with handles wrapped in fine black leather were strapped securely to their left waists.
The knight standing in the dead center was a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had sharp, chiseled facial features, short-cropped dark hair, and cold, calculating grey eyes that looked like they had witnessed a thousand battles. The other two knights flanking him appeared slightly younger, likely in their late twenties, with stern, expressionless faces that showed zero emotion.
All three of them stood well over 6 feet 7 feet tall. They were absolute units. The sheer, overwhelming pressure radiating from their bodies hung so heavily in the air that Raymond felt like a weight was pressing down on his chest just by looking at them.
The mercenary captain and his thirty men were in a far worse state. They were scared completely shitless. The arrogance they had displayed just a minute ago vanished into thin air. Many of the mercenaries were clutching their faces, their eyes bloodshot and tearing up violently. Because they had been staring directly into the room when the silver tickets were torn, the intense flashbang had literally scorched their vision, leaving them disoriented and trembling.
The captain stumbled backward, his leather boots scraping against the broken pieces of the door. His lips quivered violently. He raised his shaking iron sword, pointing the tip unsteadily at the three giants.
"W-Who the hell are you?!" the captain stammered, his voice cracking with terror. "How did you get in here? There’s no secret passage in this room!"
He received absolutely nothing but dead silence. The three armored figures didn’t even spare the captain a single glance.Instead, in perfect synchronization, the three knights turned their bodies around to face Raymond.
The sudden movement made Raymond flinch slightly, his muscles tightening with nervous tension.
"Are they going to attack me?" He thought, his heart skipping a beat.
But before he could even take a step back, the three towering knights dropped heavily onto one knee in unison. The heavy metal of their knee guards struck the stone floor with a sharp, echoing thud. They bowed their heads deeply toward Raymond.
"We greet the Lord!"
Their powerful, booming voices echoed off the stone walls of the bedroom, vibrating with absolute reverence and unyielding loyalty.
Raymond was completely stunned for a few seconds. He stared at the three legendary warriors kneeling before his bed like he was some sort of emperor. A moment later, his modern mind finally snapped back to reality. He realized he was the master here. He was the one holding the system.
"Uh... right. Get up," Raymond said, scratching the back of his head rather awkwardly. His voice was still a bit raspy, but it carried a strange new weight.
The three knights rose instantly, standing like immovable steel pillars.
Raymond turned his gaze toward the mercenary captain and the thirty men crowded in the ruined doorway. A soft, cold smile slowly spread across his face. He extended a single finger, pointing directly at the group of mutineers.
"Capture them," Raymond ordered smoothly. "And beat them absolutely senseless for me."
The mercenary captain and his men all took a sharp, frantic step back in unison. Their faces instantly turned as pale as sheets of paper. Realizing they were completely outmatched, the captain didn’t even try to fight.
"Retreat! Fall back to the courtyard!" the captain shrieked, turning on his heel to run.
But they never got the chance.
The armored knight standing on Raymond’s right side took a single, deliberate step forward.
Whoosh!
In the next fraction of a second, the knight’s figure completely blurred and vanished from where he was standing. A violent, massive gust of wind erupted from the spot, tearing through the bedroom like a localized hurricane. Empty wine bottles, tattered papers, and loose dust were thrown wildly into the air, crashing against the walls.
Right where the knight had been standing, a faint, sharp cracking sound echoed. The solid stone floor beneath his boot had fractured slightly, a web of fine cracks spreading out like a spiderweb.
Raymond’s hair was left completely disheveled and wild from the sheer force of the wind pressure. He stared at the cracked stone floor in absolute awe. He immediately understood what had just happened. The knight had controlled his explosive strength to the absolute limit. If the warrior hadn’t intentionally suppressed his power, the sheer kinetic force of his movement would have blown the entire bedroom to pieces, collapsing the roof right over their heads.
Before the mercenaries could even register that the knight had moved, the giant in sleek armor materialized directly in front of the doorway, completely blocking their only escape route.
Without a single word, the beating began.
The knight’s fists moved like lightning. The mercenaries didn’t possess the strength, the speed, or the courage to block or fight back. In fact, due to the knight’s terrifying velocity, the guards couldn’t even see the strikes coming. They were being pummeled like helpless, stray dogs.
Bam! Crack! Thud!
The sounds of heavy fists smashing into leather armor, breaking jaws, and crushing ribs filled the room. To Raymond’s ears, the agonizing cries and pathetic wails of the mutineers sounded like absolute heavenly music. It was the perfect response to the people who had tried to murder him just minutes prior.
The knight was an absolute master of combat. He perfectly controlled the output of his blows. Every punch and kick was calculated with precision; he applied just enough force to break bones, shatter teeth, and cause maximum physical agony without actually killing them. If he had used even a fraction of his true power, the mercenaries’ heads would have exploded like ripe watermelons.
Time passed slowly. A full half an hour went by as the single knight systematically systematically dismantled all thirty-plus men in the corridor and the doorway. The sounds of begging and screaming gradually turned into weak whines and pitiful groans.
Finally, the beating stopped.
The knight exhaled a calm, steady breath, his armor completely spotless. He turned around and walked back to his original position beside the other two knights, standing at perfect attention as if he hadn’t just single-handedly crushed an entire guard unit.
The doorway and the hallway outside were an absolute disaster zone. More than thirty grown men were strewn across the floor, stacked on top of one another, moaning and groaning in excruciating pain. Their faces were completely black and blue. Massive, ugly bumps covered their heads, and their faces had swollen up so severely they looked like bloated pigs. Not a single one of them had the strength left to stand up.
Raymond looked at the pathetic pile of men, a feeling of deep satisfaction washing over him. The tight knot of fear that had been gripping his chest since he woke up finally unraveled completely.
He slowly walked over to the edge of his massive bed. He sat down, casually crossing one leg over the other. He leaned forward, supporting his chin with his left hand, and stared down at the groveling pile of mercenaries. He fell into deep thought for a few moments, analyzing his new reality. He had the power now. The system was real.
A few moments later, a cold, amused smile touched his lips. He locked his eyes onto the mercenary captain, who was currently kneeling on the floor just a few feet away, clutching his broken ribs and coughing up blood.
"Now then," Raymond said, his voice dripping with smooth, dangerous authority. "Let’s discuss your little betrayal, Captain... and exactly what kind of suitable punishment I should give you."