Chapter 338

Crack! Crack!

The chilling sound of bones popping echoed as the Mad Dragon loosened up. His gaze was cold, and his swirling aura exuded an oppressive intent to kill.

‘He still can’t decide if I’m friend or foe.’

It seemed he was wary of the possibility that this was still within the Emperor’s palace. Otherwise, he would have attacked immediately.

‘What an incredible aura. He truly lives up to the name Mad Dragon...’

The Nine Dragons of Ragnar were a source of pride for the clan, their fame stretching across the continent. Rare was the individual who didn’t know their titles. Even in the central regions, where the northern clans were often shunned, the Nine Dragons were respected—honored for their unwavering loyalty to their Patriarch, as well as their dedication to honor and pride.

However, this particular moment was disappointing. The fact that the Mad Dragon was here in this place was a clear betrayal of his Patriarch, and a declaration of allegiance to the Court Duke.

“Answer me at once!”

The Mad Dragon’s booming voice rolled through the air, his ferocity akin to a raging bull. Felix felt goosebumps rise on his skin as he struggled with how to respond. Should he craft a lie to escape quietly? Or speak the truth and face the consequences?

Tap!

In the end, Felix chose neither. Instead, he turned on his heel and sprinted away. He refused to sully his knightly honor with a lie, yet speaking the truth would have been a death sentence in this enemy territory. For now, escaping with his pride intact seemed the wisest choice.

“You rat bastard!”

The Mad Dragon had secretly harbored a sliver of expectation when he encountered Felix. The fierce determination and aura Felix exuded had intrigued him. Even if Felix resorted to underhanded tactics, the Mad Dragon thought such a skilled individual would face him in combat.

Yet, that hope was now shattered.

“Is everyone in the palace a coward?”

With a thunderous roar, the Mad Dragon launched himself after Felix.

Boom!

The ground cracked beneath his feet, leaving a crater as debris scattered from the force of his leap.

‘He’s fast!’

Felix was astonished by the Mad Dragon’s speed, which exceeded his expectations. Though he’d managed to gain some distance initially, the Mad Dragon was rapidly closing the gap.

‘I need to get as far from the palace as possible.’

For now, that was his priority. Felix had no intention of running forever.

‘If I can eliminate him here, it’ll be a great boon for the future.’

Though he used this reasoning to justify himself, the truth was that his boiling anger desperately sought release. He felt overwhelming guilt for failing his lord, who had met a lonely death.

He wanted nothing more than to follow his lord in death, to join him in the afterlife. But he couldn’t.

‘Endure it. I’ll endure it.’

The final order his lord had given him was a bitter pill to swallow, but Felix knew he had to obey.

‘This sword hasn’t yet tasted blood. It hasn’t even begun.’

If it was all going to begin now, he might as well make the Mad Dragon’s head the grand opening act. With that resolve, he calmed his heart and steadied his mind.

Thud!

Felix came to a halt in a quiet corner of the capital—a desolate area occupied only by a few vagrants.

“So, this is where you’ve chosen to die?”

The Mad Dragon cracked his neck, pulling out his gauntlets from his belt. Forged of mithril, the gauntlets bore the engraved image of a tiger’s open maw, set in gold.

The chilling aura emanating from the gauntlets seemed to speak of the countless lives they’d claimed.

“Die, you say?”

A frigid gust swept from Felix, like a biting northern wind. The Mad Dragon’s brow furrowed at the change in atmosphere.

“Hoho?”

He let out a low chuckle, slipping the gauntlets onto his hands.

“You’re no ordinary rat, are you?”

The sharp killing intent radiating from Felix was almost tangible, charged with raw emotion. Anger, sorrow, and a profound hatred—each laced within the lethal aura—seeped into the Mad Dragon’s senses, sending a shiver down his spine.

‘Interesting.’

The Mad Dragon felt a surge of excitement at facing someone whose aura rivaled his own. Meanwhile, Felix pulled back his hood, revealing a sharp, noble face illuminated by the moonlight. His predatory eyes pierced through the Mad Dragon.

Recognizing the face, the Mad Dragon widened his eyes and laughed.

“Well, if it isn’t the famed Commander of the Golden Lion Knights! No wonder you made it this far without getting caught.”

The Mad Dragon knew him well. Felix was a familiar figure to anyone who frequented the capital—a renowned knight.

“Let me ask you one thing. Are your actions the will of Ragnar?”

Felix’s question carried a faint glimmer of hope. He wanted to know if Theo had orchestrated this, or if the Mad Dragon had simply betrayed Ragnar.

“Why don’t you beat me first, and I’ll tell you on your way to the afterlife?”

The Mad Dragon saw no need to answer. To him, it didn’t matter whether Felix suspected him of betrayal. In the end, Felix was an enemy regardless of allegiance.

“Fair enough,” Felix muttered, drawing his sword.

The blade glimmered faintly in the moonlight, its sharp edge raised with purpose.

“Hah! For a noble knight, you sure wear your emotions on your sleeve. That fury, that bloodlust—I can feel it!”

The Mad Dragon’s roaring laughter echoed in the silence. Felix smirked bitterly. It was true that his words and actions betrayed his inner turmoil.

“You’ll regret this. Using me to vent your anger will be your last mistake!”

As the Mad Dragon’s voice faded, the faint sound of the wind grew louder in their ears.

Swish!

Both figures blurred, their movements like fleeting mirages.

Clang!

The clash of their weapons reverberated through the air as they exchanged their first blows. Felix felt a stinging pain on his right cheek, where a thin line of blood began to drip.

‘As expected of Ragnar’s Mad Dragon.’

Felix’s longsword had met the Mad Dragon’s gauntlets. Though the weapons’ ranges were vastly different, Felix had assumed he held the upper hand. However, the sheer force behind the Mad Dragon’s strikes had forced him to rethink his strategy.

‘Is this the famed Mad Dragon’s Fist Sword Style?’

Rather than closing the distance, as most martial artists would, the Mad Dragon’s razor-sharp aura extended the range of his attacks, neutralizing Felix’s advantage.

‘I can’t let him bait me into a close-range fight.’

If Felix allowed the Mad Dragon’s powerful fists to land a direct hit, his body would undoubtedly be torn apart.

Boom!

A thunderous strike came hurtling toward Felix, who deftly sliced through the shockwave, splitting it in two. The force of the blast carved deep gouges into the ground behind him, sending dirt and debris flying.

“Impressive. To think you could react to that,” the Mad Dragon said, striding toward Felix with an air of arrogance.

Felix’s grip on his sword tightened as he charged, unleashing the Lion’s Hunt—a unique Golden Lion Knights technique. His unpredictable movements kept his opponent guessing as he closed the gap.

The Mad Dragon smirked.

‘Come on. Try it. I’ll crush your sword.’

The moment Felix’s blade descended, the Mad Dragon raised his gauntlets to block.

Clang!

The clash sent sparks flying. The Mad Dragon’s smirk faltered as Felix used the momentum to pivot, redirecting his strike toward the back of the Mad Dragon’s head.

The blow landed with a resounding crash, sending the Mad Dragon hurtling into the wall of a nearby building.

Boom!

Dust and rubble scattered as the Mad Dragon emerged, brushing himself off with an irritated expression. Despite the impact, he stood unscathed, his aura undiminished.

Felix steadied his stance, his left foot throbbing from the strain of the maneuver.

‘Even with that, he’s still this strong...’

The Mad Dragon’s monstrous resilience sent a chill through Felix’s heart. The fight was far from over.