Daily News: Insect Girls' Heavy Dependence

"Unless they reclaim their noble honor." A burning flame gradually ignited in Rhine's eyes.

"That's as absurd as saying that insect-people don't eat people."

Richard silently walked to the opposite side of Rhine and activated the third-tier Blade Insect—his arms suddenly extended bone scythes, their cold light flashing.

"I'm sorry, but I can tell you are a knight of honor." Rhine's arm transformed into a sharp blade, and he lowered himself into a dueling stance.

It seems she is not a Storm Rider from the traditional sequence who uses wind blades to attack from a distance.

Hearing this assessment, Richard found it somewhat amusing: "Oh, then you've misjudged me."

Rhine raised his eyes, his tone resolute:

"Honor is not based on what you say, but on what you do. My sense of honor is infallible."

The two figures collided suddenly, and amidst the clang of metal against metal, dazzling sparks erupted.

No poet would ever praise gray snowflakes, just as no man would tolerate mosaics.

Yekalin looked up at the night sky, wondering if the light twinkling at the top of the tower was the legendary star.

On the tower, Richard was engaged in a perfectly fair sword duel with Rhine.

There was no protective gear, no spectators, and none of the despicable tricks he used in his previous duel with Leonardo.

Only the howling night wind carried the lingering echoes of their fierce battle far away.

A gust of wind tore the black silk of night apart with the glint of swords. The moonlight, as cold as ice, gleamed on the blades of their swords.

When Rhine's sword tip rose, it was like the first tremor of a night bird flapping its wings, yet it carried the fierceness of cutting through the wind and snow.

Richard did not dodge; his bone sickle slashed diagonally upwards, the blade grazing the spine of the opponent's sword, a burst of golden sparks exploding before vanishing into the gray snow.

Without any probing, the very first sword strike was a straight thrust aimed at the throat.

Rhine spun around to avoid it, but his sword didn't stop. Using the force of the spin, he slashed horizontally at the waist, the sound of it cutting through the air as short and sharp as tearing silk.

Richard leaped up, his toes barely touching the top of the barricade, and plummeted like a broken-winged eagle, his bone sickle leaving a trail of silver-gray afterimages as it cleaved down.

But Rhine blocked their attack with a backhand, and both of their arms jolted, causing the snow beneath their feet to collapse three inches deep.

The trajectory of a sword tip in the air is invisible.

But Xue knew that the snowflakes that suddenly shattered into powder, and the fine furrows plowed out by the sword energy, were silently outlining the shape of killing intent.

Each collision was not a dull thud, but a clear "ding," carrying the tremor of metal fatigue before it broke, like the sharp sound of a string about to snap.

The tremor crept up the sword hilt into the wrist bone, then exploded in the chest cavity, forcing the heartbeat into a rapid drumbeat.

The sword intent surged upwards with each impact, not climbing, but leaping, like the subterranean fire suppressed for centuries beneath an icy plain finally finding a crack.

Elegant? Yes, it is.

Rhine took three steps back, each step landing between the shattered bones, avoiding pebbles and ice crystals, his robes remaining completely unstained.

Power? Yes, it exists. With each strike of Richard's, stone fragments fell from the battlements, as if a giant beast were lightly scraping the rock wall with its claws.

Although it was clearly their first meeting, their swordplay seemed to have been broken down a thousand times over.

Rhine's thrust was only halfway through when Richard's bone sickle was already waiting in the path of her wrist; the instant Richard spun to sever her neck, Rhine's sword tip had already anticipated this and pointed at his vulnerable ribs.

The steps expand and contract as one moves forward and backward, like breathing, each breath landing precisely on the point where the opponent's old strength is exhausted and new strength has not yet arisen.

They were so perfectly in sync, so perfectly in sync it was chilling. If a violin were to play a waltz right then and there, they could dance their way into hell.

There was no melody, only the hissing sound of a sword cutting through the air and the soft crunch of boots crushing ice and snow.

At an immeasurable moment, the two stopped simultaneously.

Like two colliding waves freezing into an ice peak at their highest point. The tips of the swords each stopped three inches in front of the other's throat; a little further and they would have pierced the skin, but they both stopped firmly.

The blade reflected the other's eyes: in Rhine's eyes were the last sparks in the ashes, and in Richard's eyes was the unmelted ice deep in the frozen earth.

No words were spoken. With a twist of the wrist, the sword's trajectory was as straight as a ruler.

The two clean and decisive finishing moves were as if they had agreed upon beforehand. Only the still-trembling sword proved that the storm just now was not an illusion.

"If we were to meet elsewhere, we might become friends. But tonight, I must take your life, Your Highness..."

A hint of regret flashed across Rhine's eyes.

Richard said, "As long as Yekaterin, that black-haired noblewoman, is spared, it might not be too late to stop now."

"If she truly had honor in her heart, she should have spoken out and stopped these actions, instead of remaining aloof and silently watching." Rhine's gaze remained sharp as a sword.

Richard sighed softly, knowing that he couldn't persuade him otherwise, so he decided to continue the fight.

But Rhine seemed to have lost its will to fight; perhaps the time had come.

Suddenly, she leaped from the tower, plunging through the window into the shadows deep within the castle.

He left only the words: "I'm sorry, Your Highness, the hunting party... has already begun."

Richard looked at a large hall where a crowd had gathered, intending to take only Yekaterin with him.

He didn't care about the lives or deaths of the others, and even felt that applauding and cheering was perfectly acceptable.

……

In the reception hall.

The noble young men and women of the Papal Knight Academy remained oblivious, laughing and joking.

Aside from a few locked secret rooms, there's not much danger to be found in the so-called castle adventure.

However, the pumpkin head that was darting around in mid-air frightened many people, causing them to scream repeatedly. Many noble boys and girls were so terrified that they turned pale.

If Richard hadn't sent the flying swords formed from the cocoons of the Blade Worms to scare them earlier, making their current offensive capabilities somewhat insufficient, the battle with Rhine wouldn't have dragged on for so long.

The blade-worm cocoon seemed to possess intelligence, flying up and down with its pumpkin head on it. Sometimes it would suddenly pass over people's heads, making a "whoosh" sound as it cut through the air, which had already frightened several people into unconsciousness.

Even the noble ladies who were originally hiding in the hall drinking and chatting were startled by the flying pumpkin heads and screamed. In a panic, they ran out of the castle and scattered aimlessly in the snowy night.

These cricket cocoons and pumpkin heads were originally "livestock" prepared by Richard for Catherine.

Unfortunately, it never had the chance to appear. Even Leonardo DiCaprio, who initiated the game, never got to see it.

Until Yekaterin spoke up to explain:

"This was a gift from Lord Richard, and it is the livestock I brought with me when I participated in the previous game... Please do not be alarmed."

As soon as she finished speaking, the blade insect cocoon, with its pumpkin head on top, obediently landed back in her palm.

The group finally calmed down. It was indeed a strange creature that fit the category of livestock.

However, the faintly emanating sharp aura and the question of how the pumpkin head could fly in the air still left people secretly astonished.

Some of the noblemen laughed heartily, discussing how strange the creature was.

The noble ladies, however, became increasingly curious about the royal member who had brought such a strange object.

Yekaterin was fortunate to have won the favor of such a handsome and powerful prince. Their eyes were practically overflowing with envy and jealousy.

But they were completely unaware.

A hunting party, initiated by the Rhine, has quietly begun in the shadows.