CHAPTER 33: KNIGHT IN SHINING... HELMET? [1]

All classes had finally ended.

Just a day had passed since the joint training with Class E, and today marked an important point in the story—one I couldn’t afford to miss.

"Yeah... today’s the day Elena and Ed first meet."

The two who, up until now, had only known of each other’s existence would finally cross paths. The catalyst that would tie their fates together.

In the original webtoon, it began innocently enough.

Elena, accompanied by her attendant Ollie, went out to eat her favorite pudding at a café near the capital. But on her way back, she was suddenly ambushed and kidnapped by a group of thugs.

The fools, seeing a noble girl in an academy uniform, thought they’d hit the jackpot. They knocked her out, planning to ransom her family for money. But when they realized how beautiful she was... they decided to try something far worse.

And just before things could turn ugly—Ed appeared.

He happened to be passing by, heard Ollie’s screams, and saved Elena in the nick of time.

That was how their story began.

A neat, self-contained episode. No need for me to interfere.

Normally, I would’ve just stayed in my quarters, taking it easy. But after what’s been happening lately... I couldn’t trust the story to follow the script anymore.

’Things keep changing. And if something goes wrong this time...’

I shook the thought away.

Better safe than sorry.

After walking for a while, I arrived at a familiar part of the city.

The Harlem District—one of the roughest areas in the capital. A breeding ground for crime, full of lowlifes who’d sell their own mothers for coin.

"Should be around here..." I muttered, glancing down the narrow streets.

I followed the route from memory, turning corner after corner until I reached a rundown warehouse at the edge of the district.

"This is the place."

The supposed stage for today’s "episode."

Just as I was about to move closer, I heard muffled shouting.

"Stay still!"

"Mmph! Mmph!!"

I froze and instinctively ducked into a nearby alley.

Moments later, several large men emerged from the shadows of the street, roughly dragging two struggling women.

Even from a distance, I could recognize that golden hair—smooth and gleaming even in the dim light.

Elena.

And beside her, the panicked cries of her attendant, Ollie.

’Right on cue.’

Elena hung limp in the arms of the kidnappers, her body motionless, while her attendant Ollie still struggled with desperate strength.

I watched from the shadows as both of them were dragged into the warehouse by the cloaked women. Only when their footsteps and voices had completely faded did I finally step out of hiding.

Everything had gone according to the script—so far.

This was the scene where Ed was supposed to make his dramatic entrance, defeat the kidnappers, and save Elena. It was one of his key "hero moments," the start of his slow rise to glory.

All I needed to do was wait for him to show up.

But...

"Damn it. Why the hell isn’t Ed showing up?!"

I gritted my teeth, my pulse quickening.

He should have appeared by now. This was his cue—his defining moment. But no matter how long I waited, the protagonist didn’t come.

The seconds dragged on, and the warehouse door slammed shut behind Elena and her captors.

The air grew heavier with each passing moment.

’Did something go wrong again?’

My stomach churned.

If I had known this would happen, I would’ve brought Ed here myself instead of waiting for the "story" to do it. I’d been too cautious, too afraid to disrupt the plot.

And now, because of that, Elena—one of the main heroines—was in real danger.

At this rate... something terrible might actually happen to her.

I clenched my fists.

That couldn’t happen. Not to her.

"...Guess I have no choice."

If the hero wouldn’t show up, I’d have to take his place.

Even if it messed up the flow of the story, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

But I couldn’t let them recognize me, either. That would create an entirely different problem.

"I need something to cover my face..."

My eyes darted around the dark alley, scanning for anything I could use—a rag, a sack, anything.

Then, something caught the faint glimmer of moonlight in the corner of the street.

Something metallic.

"...Perfect."

--

The kidnappers, who had long forgotten their original goal of money, began creeping toward the unconscious Elena and the struggling Ollie with disgusting, lecherous grins.

"Mmph! Mmph!!"

"Heh heh... let’s have a little look, shall we?"

"Mmph—! Ptui! Kyaaaah!! Help us!"

"What, you little—?!"

BANG!

The warehouse door burst open with a thunderous crash.

"Hey!!"

"W-what the hell?!"

The kidnappers flinched and spun toward the entrance. Standing in the doorway, framed by the flickering lamplight, was a figure holding a sword that gleamed faintly blue.

I stepped inside.

The weapon in my hand was a conjured blade—born from the Orb of Illusion.

And on my head...

"A helmet?!" one of the thugs shouted. "What kind of lunatic wears a helmet and nothing else?!"

Their confusion was justified. I probably looked insane—my face completely hidden behind a glossy steel knight’s helmet I’d found discarded in a nearby alley.

When I’d realized I couldn’t let them see my identity, I’d grabbed the first thing I could find to hide my face. It just happened to be that helmet.

No armor, no plan—just a sword, a helmet, and a very bad idea.

The thugs quickly recovered from their shock, snarling as they raised their weapons.

"Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here like that?!"

I didn’t bother replying. I simply tightened my grip on the sword and took a step forward.

"Please, help us!!" Ollie cried, her voice trembling with desperation.

"Shut up, wench!" the leader barked, swinging his hand toward her.

My eyes sharpened beneath the helmet.

"He’s just one man! Take care of him!"

"Uaaahhh!"

"Kill him!!"

At the leader’s shout, his men charged toward me all at once, their footsteps pounding across the dusty warehouse floor.

Outnumbered. Surrounded.

A situation that should have made anyone’s blood run cold.

But I wasn’t afraid.

Not when I had this—

the Dream Orb, or as some called it, the Orb of Illusion.

Different names, same terrifying power.

I tightened my grip on the sword and drew in a steady breath. Mana surged through me, crackling faintly at my fingertips before racing down the blade. Sparks began to dance along its surface, growing brighter with every heartbeat.

The thugs didn’t slow down. If anything, the sight of the light only made them rush faster, thinking they could overwhelm me before I finished whatever I was planning.

Big mistake.

With a low exhale, I swung my sword in one clean motion.

A brilliant arc of electricity exploded forward, slicing through the air in a blinding flash.

The sparks stretched outward, forming a line of pure lightning that tore across the warehouse like a storm unleashed.

The air crackled. Metal screamed.

And for a moment, everything was swallowed by light.

According to what I’d heard from Berno, naming a technique amplified its power—something about focus, intent, and resonance with the mana itself.

So I figured... why not?

I smirked. "Lightning Slash."

The name left my lips just as the wave of electricity reached its peak.

Crackle!!

A deafening surge of energy filled the room. The floor vibrated, walls flickered with reflected light, and the smell of ozone stung the air.