40 The Ambush and an Unexpected Revelation
One of them took a step forward.
"The Duke has instructed us to follow your command from this point forward. What are your orders?"
William exhaled slowly.
This mission will not fail.
A slow, confident smile spread across his lips.
William’s orders were simple.
"When the target enters the designated location, stay hidden. Wait for my signal—then attack all at once."
One of the Black Lions spoke up. "Are we to kill them?"
William shook his head. "The more survivors, the better. We need information. Capture them if possible—especially the Marquis’s son. Minimize injuries on him."
The Black Lions nodded wordlessly.
William knew better than to expect every enemy to break under interrogation, but there was always an exception.
A single loose tongue could reveal something useful about the Marquis of Logran.
Still, that was just an added benefit. The real goal was to capture the fourth son of Marquis Logran.
"As for the rest—use your own judgment. If the situation gets out of control, kill them."
"Understood."
The Black Lions remained eerily still, but William could feel their confidence.
They had already decided that the situation would never reach that point.
Arrogance? No.
It was certainty.
William smirked. Let’s see if their confidence is well-founded.
At that moment, faint voices drifted through the air.
—"Is this the place? The exterior is far too rundown. You didn’t misappropriate the funds, did you?"
—"Hiding in plain sight is the best way to avoid suspicion. The inside is fully equipped. You can confirm it yourself."
William pressed himself against the shadows, carefully peering out.
Soon enough, the door creaked open, and multiple figures stepped inside.
It was them.
The fourth son of Marquis Logran and his escort.
William leaned forward slightly, trying to get a better look at the leader.
Then he saw the man’s face.
His breath hitched.
What?
He froze.
That’s…!
Felix the Sword Demon?!
William rubbed his eyes, doubting his own vision. But no matter how many times he blinked and looked again, the figure standing before him remained unchanged.
Among the ten knights and two maids surrounding the marquis’s son, there was no mistaking that face—it was the Sword Demon.
But something was off.
Felix’s attire.
Why is he wearing a maid’s uniform?
If Felix had been the marquis’s son or even one of the younger knights, William might have been able to rationalize it. Despite his time as a mercenary, the man’s swordplay had always been sharp, his demeanor carrying an air of nobility.
But a maid?
Sure, Felix was handsome enough to make distinguishing his gender difficult, but this… this was something else.
Had he been disguising himself as a man all along?
William suddenly felt as though he had made the wrong assumption from the very beginning.
Looking back, Felix’s face had always been too delicate for a man.
Rather than donning women’s clothing for some unknown reason, wouldn’t it make more sense if Felix had always been a woman, simply disguising herself as a man to work as a mercenary?
William’s mind spun with the implications of this revelation, but his thoughts were cut short by the conversation between Hugo and his quarry.
"Well, well. You certainly came prepared. Though, I don’t see that you actually made anything."
"Have you forgotten that today is the first day of production? You insisted on overseeing the process yourself, so we postponed it. And now you speak as if I’m the one to blame."
"Watch your mouth, whelp. Do you take me for your friend?"
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William pushed aside his thoughts about Felix—no, Felicia—for the moment. The Sword Demon’s secrets could wait. Right now, capturing the target took precedence.
His gaze shifted to the marquis’s son.
Young. Probably around my age.
Philip Logran.
The fourth son of a marquis—one who had surrendered his claim to inheritance before even entering the competition. Despite the balance of power among his siblings being relatively even, Philip had abandoned his birthright out of fear.
William had expected a coward. But here Philip was, standing tall and arrogant before Hugo.
A textbook example of someone who bullies the weak and grovels before the strong.
"Enough of this nonsense! Start the production already! I’m here to ensure you do your job properly, not to indulge in idle chatter."
"Just a moment. I’ll bring out the materials."
Clap, clap.
At Hugo’s signal, his subordinates moved toward a set of crates.
At a glance, they appeared to be retrieving ingredients for the drug, but William knew better. They were falling back, creating distance so they wouldn’t get caught up in the fight.
The moment they had moved far enough from Philip’s group, Hugo gave a simple command.
"Go."
A burst of movement.
"What the—?!"
Five Black Lions leaped from their hiding places, charging forward in an instant.
Philip recoiled, stumbling backward in alarm.
But his knights—well-trained as they were—reacted swiftly, drawing their swords in perfect synchronization.
"You dare—!"
Thud!
"Urgh!"
They had done everything right, responding without hesitation.
But they weren’t facing ordinary enemies.
Even elite knights were no match for the Black Lions.
The knights, despite outnumbering them two to one, barely managed to block a single strike before they were overwhelmed.
Less than a minute.
That was all it took.
All ten knights lay sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain.
Some had been knocked unconscious with the hilts of blades, others had their tendons severed, leaving them unable to stand.
One strike per opponent.
The difference in skill was humiliating.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?! Stand up and fight!"
How predictable.
Even with no time to flee, Philip’s first instinct was to berate his knights rather than escape.
William clicked his tongue in disapproval before issuing another order.
"Silence him and bring him in."
"Yes, Third Young Master."
Clink.
One of the Black Lions sheathed his sword and approached Philip.
Rather than cutting him down, he intended to knock him out—likely with the hilt of his blade.