CHAPTER 34: KNIGHT IN SHINING... HELMET? [2]

KWAAANG!!!

A blinding flash tore through the warehouse.

A violent storm of lightning exploded from my blade, engulfing the space in roaring light and sound. The force of it shook the ground beneath my feet—then, with a deafening crash, one side of the warehouse wall gave way, crumbling outward in a shower of debris.

"...Wow."

The word slipped out before I could stop it.

Even I hadn’t expected that.

I had unleashed the technique at full strength, not bothering to hold back or control the surge of power—and the result was far beyond anything I imagined.

As the light faded and the smoke slowly cleared, the devastation revealed itself piece by piece.

Chunks of the wall lay scattered across the ground.

Sparks still danced faintly in the air, flickering between the collapsed beams.

And all around, the kidnappers were sprawled motionless on the floor, groaning faintly.

’...They’re not dead, are they?’

A sudden wave of worry hit me. I crouched slightly, scanning the fallen men.

One of them twitched. Another gave a weak groan.

"...Good."

They were alive—barely conscious, but alive.

With that small relief, I sheathed my sword and turned toward the corner of the room, where Elena and her maid were bound.

Ollie’s eyes widened the moment she saw me approach. "Thank you for saving us...!"

I didn’t answer.

There was no need to say anything—and even less reason to risk revealing my identity.

Instead, I knelt down beside them and examined their condition.

Elena was still unconscious, her breathing steady, her clothes disheveled but otherwise intact. No visible injuries, no marks.

"Thank goodness..." I murmured quietly, a breath of relief slipping out before I could stop it.

For a moment, I’d feared I’d arrived too late—that they might have done something irreversible. But thankfully, it seemed I wasn’t.

I could feel Ollie’s eyes on me the whole time, her expression a mix of gratitude and curiosity, as if trying to pierce through the hood that hid my face.

Snap.

The ropes gave way under my blade with a clean cut.

"Thank you!" Ollie’s voice trembled slightly, part relief, part emotion.

I stood, taking one last look at the two of them—Elena resting peacefully, Ollie clutching her hand protectively.

They were safe now.

That was all that mattered.

"...I’ll be going."

Fatigue was starting to take its toll. My body felt heavy, my breathing uneven. I’d used far too much mana—any more, and I might actually collapse again.

Still... I couldn’t rest yet. I needed to leave before—

Wee-oo, wee-oo!

"...What’s that sound?"

A sharp, wailing noise echoed through the air, bouncing off the walls of the dim warehouse. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

A siren.

"Ah! It’s the security guards! Over here!" someone shouted.

My eyes widened. "Security guards?"

Panic flickered through me as the distant sound of armored footsteps grew closer. It must’ve been one of those idiots—someone must have called for help during the fight.

Great. Just great.

I hadn’t committed any crime, technically speaking. So even if the guards arrived, it shouldn’t be a problem.

But my heart still pounded in my chest.

Because if they investigated—even a little—my identity might get exposed.

And that... would ruin everything.

The story had already started to drift off course. The last thing I needed was for Elena to find out that I was the one who saved her. If she knew, the fragile thread connecting her to Ed could snap completely.

That’s why I’d gone through the trouble of wearing this suffocating helmet in the first place.

No one could recognize me.

No one should.

The blaring siren grew louder. The guards were almost here.

’No time left.’

If they found me, they’d question me, check my ID, maybe even drag me back for an official report. And then everything I’d been trying to control would spiral out of my hands.

’For now... I just need to get out of here.’

As the guards stormed into the warehouse, the thugs and onlookers all turned their attention toward them.

That was my chance.

Moving quickly, I slipped between the shadows and darted toward the far exit. My steps were light but hurried, every muscle screaming for rest as I pushed forward.

Just before stepping out into the night air, I glanced back one last time.

The guards were already surrounding the unconscious thugs, shouting orders, completely unaware of me.

Good.

Without another word, I disappeared into the dark alley beyond the warehouse—

the faint glow of the siren lights fading behind me.

----

"Haa... haa..."

Did I... get away without being noticed?

I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, the echo of my ragged breathing filling the narrow alleyway. After running for what felt like forever, I finally stopped and carefully peeked around the corner.

No guards. No pursuers.

Only the faint sound of distant footsteps and the city’s usual night noises.

"...Good."

Relieved, I reached up and yanked off the metal helmet that had been suffocating me the entire time.

"Phew..." I exhaled sharply, letting the cool air wash over my sweat-drenched face. The inside of the helmet was slick with moisture—my own breath and sweat trapped by the damn thing.

If I’d worn it for a few more minutes, I probably would’ve passed out from lack of air.

’How do knights wear this every day...?’

The metal was heavy, and my neck ached from supporting its weight for so long.

I’d always thought knights looked cool—majestic even—when they marched through the streets in full armor, gleaming under the sun. But now that I’d actually worn one of their helmets, that admiration had taken a serious hit.

’They must either be superhuman... or completely insane.’

Probably both.

I gave a tired chuckle and slumped against the wall, sliding down until I was half-sitting, half-leaning on it. My vision swam slightly, and I felt a dull ache spreading from my chest to my fingertips.

Ah... there it was again. That familiar, empty feeling.

The aftermath of overusing my mana.

Magic-impotent Louis—unable to handle even one decent spell without collapsing.

I could still feel the faint traces of mana pulsing weakly through me, flickering like the last embers of a dying fire.

The power of the technique had been far greater than I’d expected. Impressive, even. But what good was it if I ended up like this afterward—drained, staggering, barely able to stand?

A glass cannon.

Strong enough to make an impact... but fragile enough to shatter after one shot.

That was me.

’I need to solve this mana problem. Fast.’