Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 245 This is impossible
The ghost general's vision was now stained red with blood.

He could feel the newly generated legendary power within his body rampaging like a runaway horse, and the realm he had broken through to in less than seven days was far from stable.

The opponent's two-handed greatsword, wreathed in wind and thunder, precisely targeted the weakest seam in the bone armor with each strike.

"Cough!" Blood foam seeping from under the mask was mixed with black specks of light; it was the essence of the Power Fruit that had not been fully refined.

The demon general suddenly remembered Robin's warning: "A newly ascended legend can only exert up to 60% of their strength."

When the grey-robed knight's sword came at him again, the ghost general made a crazy decision.

He understood that this was a test from the Lord, and if he couldn't even stop this person, he wouldn't be qualified to continue following him.

"Do you know?" The ghost general's voice suddenly became unusually clear, as if another soul was speaking through him, "When my mother died in battle," the bone armor fragments suddenly floated up, forming a thorny cage, "she took three sword blows before she fell."

The gray-robed knight finally showed surprise.

He discovered that his domain power was being devoured by those glowing black patterns, and the newly promoted legend, who should have been exhausted, was now surrounded by a purplish-black mist of the same origin as Robin.

As the sound of the Dragon-Slaying Spear piercing the air reached them in the distance, the Ghost General had already crushed the gray-robed knight's Adam's apple with his teeth.

He knelt in the pool of blood, looking at his trembling hands. It turned out that the fruit Robin had given him contained a wisp of the power of order that could save his life.

The ghost general's bone armor was scattered all over the ground like broken eggshells, each piece returning to stillness after a violent tremor.

His chest heaved violently, each breath bringing up blood and foam mixed with fragments of internal organs, but he tensed his back the moment he heard Robin's voice.

Robin's boot tip picked up a blood-stained fragment of bone armor, its numerous cracks bearing witness to the brutality of every second of this deadly battle.

As the fragment flipped between his fingers, he saw tiny, strange patterns engraved on the inside.

"My lord." The ghost general's blood-stained teeth were eerily white in the moonlight, yet his torn lips were forced into a grotesque arc. He tried to prop himself up to bow, but his broken ribs pierced through his flesh, blooming into a flower of blood on his chest.

The tip of the Dragon-Slaying Spear suddenly pressed down on the Ghost General's body, preventing him from moving any further.

When Robin bends down, her loyalty increases from 71 to 75.

This number, soaring on the brink of death, is more convincing than any words.

"Well done, you didn't disappoint me?" Robin's fingertips traced the exposed broken bone on the Demon General's chest, and he used his life force to reattach it with his blood-stained fingers.

As the healing potion was poured down his throat, the demon heard Robin say to Ito, who had rushed over, "You still have a younger brother, are you just going to leave like this?"

The lord's voice held a warmth he had never heard before: "Let the Rhine family see."

The night wind blew away the second half of the sentence, but the ghost knew that his blood-stained lips must have been turned up even higher.

When Stander Rhein struggled to his feet from the pile of cosmetics, the silk sheets still carried the sweet scent of psychedelic perfume.

He walked barefoot across the mess of his fine clothes, the hem of his gold-threaded robe trailing spilled wine, leaving a trail of crimson blood on the Persian carpet.

"Water," he rasped as he reached for the crystal glass, but froze the moment his fingertips touched the rim.

Instead of the familiar scent of roses, the air was filled with the heavy, rusty smell of blood.

"Snapped!"

The crystal chandelier suddenly blazed brightly, forcing Stander to squint his swollen eyes. As his eyes finally adjusted, the wine glass in his hand crashed to the ground.

The crimson wine flowed between the shattered crystals, reflecting the dark shadows on the sofa not far away.

The figure sitting upright in his favorite high-backed chair was enveloped in the still-dried aura of blood.

Beneath the grotesque demon helmet, a single eye glowed with an eerie green light, like phosphorescence in a graveyard at night.

Between the gaps in the damaged black armor, the rolled-up wounds were still oozing blood, staining the velvet chair surface a dark red.

"Long time no see," the voice from beneath the visor echoed with a metallic tremor, sending Stander plummeting into an icy abyss. It was the voice he had spent three years trying to forget. "My brother."

As Stand stumbled backward, he knocked over an antique candlestick. In the flickering light, he could see four heads piled up at the other man's feet.

It was the bodyguard he had sent tonight to "serve" the newly captured noblewoman.

The mouth of the topmost head still had half a bitten-off flower branch stuffed inside.

A bolt of lightning flashed past the window, illuminating the ghost general's slowly raised right hand. The blood-dripping dagger was the very weapon that Stander had used to plunge into his brother's back three years ago.

Stander's fingertips dug deeply into the gilded edge of the table, his knuckles turning white from the force. He forced a twisted smile, but the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched involuntarily. "So... it's Big Brother." His voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth. "Uncle Horn will be overjoyed if he knows you're back."

"Click——"

The ghost general's bone armor suddenly cracked, and the cracks on his mask widened further. He slowly raised his right hand, his blood-stained fingertips gently tapping the armrest, which was Stander's favorite rosewood throne, now stained beyond recognition by blood.

"Don't worry, dear brother," the ghost general's voice suddenly became unusually gentle, like the tone used to lull a child to sleep. "Soon." He slowly stood up, drops of blood dripping from the seams of his armor onto the ground, making a chilling "drip-drip" sound. "Uncle will."

A bolt of lightning ripped through the night sky, illuminating the short sword that had suddenly appeared in the ghost general's hand, its blade still bearing traces of undried blood.

"I'm going downstairs to keep you company."

Stander's pupils suddenly contracted.

"No, that's impossible!" Stand staggered backward, knocking over the wine cabinet behind him. Expensive wine bottles shattered on the ground, the wine mixing with blood like a winding stream. "Uncle Horn is a second-tier knight, he..."

"Hush!" The demon general's visor was almost pressed against Stander's pale face, its single eye flashing with a mad light. "Listen."

A thunderclap suddenly boomed in the night sky, followed by a furious roar that tore through the darkness:

"The Rhine family's bastard!!"

The sound carried a violent, orderly force, causing the castle's stained-glass windows to shatter.

Stand huddled in the corner, watching the flying shards of glass cut blood onto his bare skin, each piece reflecting his distorted face.

“This is impossible,” he repeated mechanically, his fingernails scratching the gilded wall. “Uncle is a second-tier knight, how could he…”

The ghost general slowly straightened up, his bone armor emitting a teeth-grinding grinding sound.

He raised his hand and removed the damaged mask, revealing his face pierced by scars.

“Our lord deliberately spared his life.” The ghost general’s teeth gleamed white against the blood, like those of a predatory beast ready to devour its prey. “After all,” he bent down to pick up the patriarchal ring that Stand had dropped, crushing it into dust in his palm, “…to personally end the life of a blood relative.”

(End of this chapter)