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Now reading: Chapter 272 - 271- Wounded pride(1) from Return of the Legendary Runesmith, a Action novel by Return of the Legendary Runesmith.

Adrian stepped out of the venue, his mind steady and clear. He already knew what had to be done.

Three long-distance communication artifacts—that was all he had. One was with Ruby, another with Elana, and through her he could reach Ariana as well. That ant everyone he cared about was only a call away.

Now there was only one person left unaccounted for. Sylvie. Until he found her, he couldn’t focus on saving the others.

He pierced through the barrier, knowing Juggler wouldn’t have kept Sylvie within the premises.

He had a few places where he was thinking to look. However, just as he took a few steps away from the venue,

"You’re good at isolating yourself."

The words slid through the air like a knife, cold and mocking. Just as Adrian pushed past the barrier and advanced toward the town—where he believed the Acolytes might be waiting—he froze.

That voice. He knew it.

He turned, and there stood a man in a joker’s mask, the sharp sunlight glinting off the painted smile.

"Juggler," Adrian said, his voice hard. "You wanted , I’m here. So why not let the girl go?"

From behind the mask, Adrian could almost feel the man’s grin stretching wider.

Snap.

Juggler’s fingers clicked, sharp and echoing.

Shadows shifted, and figures began to step forward from the darkness, one after another, until the space behind him was full.

Adrian’s breath caught when he saw her.

Sylvie. She hung bound to a wooden beam shaped like a cross, the structure floating eerily above the ground. Her hair fell over her face, her body limp, but her chest still rose and fell.

Adrian’s frown deepened. Bishop. He’s casting barriers remotely... his technique has grown sharper. The thought unsettled him. If Bishop had reached this level, then there was no telling how many more tricks he had prepared, or how many forces were waiting, hidden in the shadows.

For now, Adrian could count twelve Acolytes, their gazes cold and hungry. But two figures stood apart from the rest.

Juggler—and the bald man beside him.

Unlike the others, the bald man radiated an oppressive aura, a weight that pressed down on Adrian’s chest. He didn’t need to guess—this one was no ordinary follower. He was a core mber of the Cult.

"I have no interest in her. I only wanted to bring you here—and I succeeded." Juggler tilted his head, the painted grin of his mask gleaming in the dim light. "Now, for her safety, hand over every single armant you’re carrying. Start with the one on your waist."

Adrian’s jaw tightened. Damn it. If only he had worn his coat, the revolver at his side wouldn’t have been spotted. He could have hidden it away in the Ti Chamber without a trace.

But now, he had no choice.

Slowly, he pulled the revolver free.

"Good," Juggler cooed. "Now, drop it to the ground... and empty your pockets while you’re at it."

Adrian scowled. "You really think I’d bring armants to a contest?"

That made Juggler burst into laughter. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, his voice muffled by the mask but sharp all the sa. "Ah, Professor, you can’t be good at everything. Your runesmithing is top-notch, but your acting?" He let out another fit of chortles. "Terrible."

Then, as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped.

The golden glow of his eyes pierced through the slits of the mask, blazing with sudden coldness. "Don’t play smart with , Professor. You knew about the ambush. So don’t insult by pretending you ca unprepared."

Adrian ground his teeth. He slid his hand into his pocket with deliberate slowness. He hadn’t stored everything in the Ti Chamber—doing so would have looked suspicious.

From his left pocket, he pulled a small pill. From the right, a ring.

Juggler’s eyes narrowed. "Spade."

The bald man stepped forward. In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of Adrian.

Adrian’s breath caught. Unbelievably fast—for soone that size.

Spade’s thick hands patted him down, running over his shirt, his sides, his boots. The man’s touch was heavy, impersonal, thorough—searching for any hidden tricks Adrian might still be concealing.

"He’s clean, boss," Spade said at last, stepping back. He moved slower this ti, unlike the sudden burst of speed from before—making it clear that his earlier haste was only ant to rattle Adrian. In his hand, he carried the revolver and tools he had taken.

Adrian’s eyes locked on Juggler. "Now," he said coldly, "can you let the girl go? You’ve taken everything from . I have nothing left to fight back with. You don’t need to be cautious anymore."

Juggler clasped his hands together, swaying his head lightly as if weighing the thought. "Under normal circumstances, I might have agreed. After all, right now you’re nothing but a hound without teeth—completely harmless."

His tone shifted, a sharp edge sliding beneath the mockery. "But... there is soone who dearly wishes to tornt you."

As those words left his lips, a small figure flickered into being before Adrian. A boy.

Before Adrian could even react—

SQUELCH

The blade pierced his side.

Adrian’s breath hitched, his body jerking from the sudden stab. Blood soaked into his shirt, hot and heavy.

"Mfffhh!" Sylvie scread behind her gag, thrashing against her bindings. The restraints glowed faintly, holding her down, sapping her strength. She was helpless.

Juggler grinned at the sight. Perfect, exactly what he wanted.

Adrian gritted his teeth, his hand shooting toward the boy. But before he could touch him—

"Ah-ah." Juggler’s voice cut through, smooth and sharp. "Lay one finger on him, and the girl dies."

Adrian froze, his chest heaving.

He looked up just in ti to see Spade yank on the restraints. With a harsh pull, Sylvie fell to the ground, coughing, her eyes wide with fear.

Juggler crouched, gripping her shoulder tightly. Sylvie cried out, her small body trembling under his grasp.

"Now listen, girl," Juggler whispered, his masked face tilting closer. "You only move when I say. If you don’t... I’ll kill you. And then I’ll kill your beloved Professor right in front of you."

Sylvie’s lips quivered, her tears mixing with dirt as she nodded.

Juggler stood and turned to Adrian once more, his voice carrying a cruel amusent. "For every dagger Bishop stabs into you... she earns one step forward."

With his arms extended, the joker-masked cried, "Now, professor! It’s ti for you to show how much you value your students!"

°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thank you for reading. And, please consider dropping a review if you are enjoying the story so far.

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