Chapter 454: Chapter 454

A bitter winter wind howled through the streets. Amid its piercing shriek, Hathaway asked coldly, still completely in the dark as to which faction she had managed to offend. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ N0veI.Fiɾe.net

"Were you among those who took the collection from the Parrox Ruins this past January?"

The man countered with a question of his own.

"Yes, but the collection was divided among thirteen people."

"Yes. I killed them all. They didn't have what I needed."

Even as he uttered such cruel words, the hulking man’s expression remained fixed in a smile.

Hathaway finally understood the reason for her recent troubles. Most of the items and information she'd acquired during that expedition had already been traded away; the only thing she had left was the small golden bell on her wrist.

But that clearly wasn't what he wanted, for though the man had noticed it, he showed no flicker of interest.

"What is it you're looking for?" she asked. "Perhaps we can resolve this peacefully."

"I need the stone slate, the one embedded directly beneath the hydra statue. Don't tell me you weren't the one who took it."

"But it shattered. The moment I touched it, it crumbled to pieces."

She was telling the truth. Hathaway had never actually managed to acquire the object, despite its valuable appearance.

The man, however, clearly didn't believe her. Without another word, he threw a punch. They were still some distance apart, but his arm stretched unnaturally, as if molded from soft clay. Caught by surprise, Hathaway could only scramble to dodge the attack.

As she dodged, her silver-thread bracelet wove a spell, playing the gentle tune of a lullaby. But the man’s assault didn’t slow in the slightest.

Hathaway knew this night was not going to end well. Steeling herself, she shook her wrist violently. The crisp chime of the golden bell sent them both reeling to the ground. But Hathaway recovered faster and made a dash for her carriage.

The man scrambled to his feet an instant later, thrusting his fist at her back once more. Hathaway twisted her body at an odd angle, the slender sword she’d just drawn flashing a pure, brilliant white in the moonlight.

With a sharp cry, she brought the blade down on his fist. Mere flesh was no match for the enchanted weapon, and his hand was nearly split in two between the ring and index fingers.

Wincing, the man immediately retracted his fist. He looked up at the woman, now standing at a higher vantage, as she raised the blade again:

"I miscalculated. I didn't expect you to have such a rare, weapon-class numbered item. But it's useless..."

He stomped his right foot, launching himself two feet into the air. His massive, rough hand met the descending blade with a clang, like metal striking stone.

He had caught the blade in his bare hand!

"You're Salman the Giant!"

Hathaway finally recognized the infamous fugitive from the wanted posters.

"Now that you know who I am, I have even less reason to let you live! Hahaha!"

He laughed wildly, tightening his grip and trying to yank her toward him. With no other choice, Hathaway released her weapon. Retreating, she cried out:

Her silver-thread bracelet unraveled, the strands slithering up her arm like serpents. Several of them stretched taut between her shoulder and forearm, forming a makeshift harp.

The note wasn't loud, but it was excruciatingly sharp. With every pluck of the strings, Salman felt his heart lurch to a stop.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but he stood firm. "Since you know me, then you should also know all my abilities are Red martial abilities. You can't possibly imagine the strength of my body."

With that, he advanced on the carriage. Hathaway leaped down, snapped the heels off her shoes on the cobblestones, and darted into a nearby alley. Her plan had been to slow him with her music while finding an escape route, but the man was far less affected than she'd anticipated.

The end of the alley was in sight, the main road visible just ahead.

A massive fist tore through the frigid air again, but this time, Hathaway had no way to dodge. Reacting to the sound of air parting behind her, she leaped aside, but the blow still landed, the sheer force sending her flying out of the alley.

She pressed her hands to the ground, trying to push herself up, but a sharp, stabbing pain erupted in her chest.

The icy ground stung her palms as she struggled to sit up, her back slumping against the wall at the mouth of the alley.

She gave a wretched smile. "I've considered that I might die someday, but I never imagined it would be ."

"If you tell me where the slate is now, I might just let you live. Honestly, I don't make a habit of killing women."

The tower of a man strode out from the alley's shadows. He was back to his normal height, but his skin was flushed a deeply unnatural shade of red.

"Do you even believe that yourself?"

Hathaway mocked him weakly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her silver threads scattered across the ground, utterly useless.

He cut himself off. A strange sound was coming from the alley behind him.

The sound was rhythmic, steadily approaching the mouth of the alley. The narrow passage was unlit, the buildings on either side casting it in deep shadow where the moonlight couldn't reach. A pinprick of red light emerged from the gloom, growing closer and brighter with each passing moment.

It was a man wreathed in red fire, mounted on a skeletal warhorse. The roaring flames encased both steed and rider. As he emerged from the darkness, a smile touched his young, handsome face. He raised a flaming hand to tip his hat in a salute to the lady:

"Long time no see, Hathaway."

Jenkins sat atop his mount. He looked like an expert rider, but in truth, he had no horsemanship skills to speak of; the highly intelligent steed had always moved of its own accord.

After greeting her, he turned his gaze to the other man and raised an eyebrow.

"How would you like to die?"

It was the same move as before. The right fist shot toward Jenkins with tremendous force. He leaned low over his steed's back, gave the reins a sharp tug, and the horse charged forward to meet the attack.

The steed deftly evaded the punch and slammed into Salman with a powerful gust of wind, but the giant’s left hand shot out and clamped down hard on the horse’s neck bones.

Seeing that the fire licking at the horse's hooves didn't even singe the old newspapers on the ground, he was confident that his body could withstand such an insubstantial flame.