Seeing the maids hesitate, Henwell pulls out an exquisite pocket watch. “Look! This belongs to Catherine. I personally gave her this watch. She sent soone with this token to Peace Haven to ask for my help. I have to rescue her! This is my promise to her!”
Fortunately, so of the maids recognize the watch as sothing Catherine had played with before, and they start to believe Henwell’s words.
Henwell speaks urgently, “There’s not much ti! I have to find the princess imdiately! There really are assassins in the castle. The princess is in grave danger, not just from those assassins. Her royal brothers, even Emperor Ulysses himself, might try to kill her.”
“And right now, I must protect her. Didn’t you hear the fighting just now? The enemy is searching for her location. I need to find her before they get there.”
Henwell insists on persuasion rather than intimidation because everyone working in the palace undergoes special training.
If soone sneaks in to interrogate them, they have a set of responses to feed false information and lead the intruder into a trap.
Henwell can’t afford to waste ti. If Morris catches up with him, he’ll really have to hide like a rat in the castle.
He must find Catherine as quickly as possible and avoid any fights that might alert Veil’s mbers.
Finally, Henwell learns Catherine’s whereabouts from one of the maids.
Before leaving, Henwell says, “You all hide well. After this, I’ll have Catherine take you away and reward you generously so you can live comfortably.”
Then Henwell asks the na of the maid who told him Catherine’s location.
She looks about seventeen or eighteen, with a few freckles on her face and a pretty dimple.
Henwell rembers her na—Ina.
Informants are often dangerous, but Henwell isn’t the ungrateful type. He plans to make sure Catherine looks after her later.
Henwell gives Ina Catherine’s pocket watch as a token to present to Catherine afterward.
Then Henwell follows the location Ina gave him and starts searching the third floor of the castle.
Soon, he arrives at a guarded room.
Seeing Henwell approach, two guards at the door press their longswords against their shoulders and demand, “Which squad are you from? This is a restricted area. Why are you here?”
Henwell moves like a flash, appearing beside the two guards. He quickly dislocates their joints and strikes the back of their necks with his knife hand, knocking them unconscious.
Then Henwell crashes open the door.
Inside Catherine’s room, two female Battle Knights imdiately draw their longswords and charge at him.
Henwell kicks both of them flying and turns to a stunned Catherine. “It’s urgent. No ti to explain. Let’s not waste any more ti. Let’s get started!”
With that, Henwell begins to strip off his clothes.
One of the female guards scrambles to her feet and shouts angrily, “You reckless madman! What do you think you’re doing?”
She charges with her sword, but Henwell dodges and suddenly grabs her shoulder, throwing her aside.
At the sa ti, Henwell throws a punch that crashes into the war hamr soone was swinging.
He takes a few steps back, his left fist mangled and bloody, with knuckles exposed.
At the door, Blacksmith withdraws his war hamr and steps on the heads of the two unconscious guards, crushing them.
Blacksmith looks around the room and laughs. “Henwell, you really are a hopeless romantic! Even now, you want to find your princess lover? Why are you stripping? Planning to share one last tender mont with your princess before you die?”
Henwell’s eyes fix on the item on Blacksmith’s wrist. “Where did you get that?”
Blacksmith shakes the bloodied pocket watch on his wrist. “This? Of course, I took it by force! What? You know that little girl? When I crushed her bit by bit, she scread like crazy!”
Henwell takes a deep breath and says coldly, “You deserve to die.”
Blacksmith laughs loudly. “Yes, yes! That look in your eyes! I love geniuses like you, looking like you want to tear to pieces!”
Henwell clenches his fists. “I’m a reasonable man. Soon, I’ll tear you to pieces.”
Then Henwell releases the Will Lock on his body. The Gene Lock activates, and golden blood flas surge wildly.
His hair floats as if caught in a breeze, and the wounds on his body heal visibly before their eyes.
Henwell sneers, “There’s one thing you’ve been right about all along. I am a genius. A powerful genius.”
Blacksmith glares deeply at Henwell before turning and running.
Henwell isn’t about to let him go. His aura explodes outward, tearing apart nearby furniture.
In almost an instant, Henwell appears behind Blacksmith.
Sensing the fierce presence behind him, Blacksmith abruptly stops and spins around to swing his hamr.
Henwell leans back just in ti to dodge the deadly blow, then lifts his leg and delivers a precise kick to Blacksmith’s wrist, forcing the war hamr upward.
Henwell then powers up from his waist, snapping his upper body upright and lunging forward with clawed hands.
Blacksmith steps back just in ti, but Henwell’s hands still rake across his armor.
Bright sparks fly as deep claw marks score the tal.
Before Blacksmith can react, Henwell delivers a downward kick.
Blacksmith only manages to brace his war hamr horizontally to block.
The force of Henwell’s kick drives Blacksmith’s feet a few centiters into the ground.
Henwell presses down again with his leg, forcing Blacksmith to half-kneel.
His right shin slides forward, hooking the hamr’s handle, then yanks hard.
Blacksmith is pulled forward, and Henwell traps his opponent’s right leg bent at the knee, thrusting it forcefully into Blacksmith’s cheek.
Dazed, Blacksmith reels as Henwell’s right shin snaps upward, launching him into the air and disarming him.
Henwell looks up at the flying Blacksmith, springs up, and ets him mid-fall.
His fists hamr into Blacksmith’s chest like drumbeats.
At first, Blacksmith tries to defend with his arms.
But after just a few punches, Henwell’s blows twist and deform Blacksmith’s arms into a mangled ss.
When Henwell lands again, his fists are soaked with blood.
Blacksmith falls like a ragdoll, his body twisted and collapsing to the side.
His chest is shattered, the flesh and spine at his back gone, with bones and organs mixed in a grueso ss at the front.
The Iron Knight’s strong vitality keeps Blacksmith from dying imdiately.
He spits out bits of flesh and blood and gives a grim smile.
“I... I... I told you... geniuses can’t be allowed to live!”
Henwell shakes the blood and flesh clinging to his fists.
“You shouldn’t fear geniuses. You should fear the geniuses who work harder than you. And I push harder than all of them.”
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