Paragon of Destruction Chapter 387 An Old Friend

A curse escaped Arran's mouth as soon as he recognized the Knight. He'd only seen her once before, but as he looked at her, he knew immediately who she was — the woman he'd met in the ruined battlefield at the edge of the borderlands.
Dark-eyed and sharp-featured, she was just as beautiful as he remembered — and every bit as terrifying, too.
While she was neither particularly tall nor unusually muscular, her movements held a casual tension that hinted at barely veiled power, as if she could unleash a devastating attack at any moment.
Arran had already noticed this the first time he met her, but now that his insights had grown, he was startled to discover that her strength was even greater than he had realized.
Knights were shockingly strong to begin with, but Arran now understood that this woman was a monster even among Knights. And this terrifying woman was the Knight whose invitation he had spurned.
He couldn't help but grimace at his misfortune. Of all the Knights in the Imperium, the one who had arrived was the one he was least eager to meet.
Yet while Arran's face held a pained expression, there was a flash of amusement in the woman's eyes when she saw him. "Is that how you greet an old friend?" she asked, a hint of mockery in her tone.
Arran smiled wryly. Though he had cursed under his breath and the Knight was still at least twenty paces away, it was clear that she had heard him.
"Apologies, Lady Merem," he said in a resigned tone, glad that he at least still remembered her name. "I did not expect to meet you here."
"I can tell," she replied, a slight smirk on her lips. Her eyes briefly wandered over the crowd that had formed in front of the village gates, and then turned back to Arran. "I assume you are the one who slew the Reaver?"
"I am," he confirmed. There was no point in denying it. There wasn't a soldier in the village who hadn't heard about his achievement, and none of them would dare to hide the truth from a Knight.
Yet unexpectedly, before the Knight could respond, Kaleesh spoke up.
"Lady Knight," the captain began, an ingratiating smile on his face, "while it's true that Arran killed the Reaver, the rest of our group played no small role in defeating the Blightspawn. Only through our combined efforts did we overcome the monsters."
Although it appeared as if the captain was trying to claim part of the glory for himself, Arran knew the truth: Kaleesh was trying to obscure the fact that Arran had singlehandedly defeated the largest group of Blightspawn.
For an outsider to defeat a Reaver was no small feat, but to battle hundreds of Blightspawn at the same time was a different matter altogether. Something like that was bound to arouse suspicion if word spread.
Of course, the captain had taken care to keep the truth hidden from the Darians soldiers in the village, which he achieved by spreading dozens of rumors that were even more outrageous than the actual battle.
Bored as they were, the soldiers had spread these tales eagerly, embellishing them further with each retelling. Even if one of the mercenaries spilled the truth, by now his tale would just be one among many.
Yet faced with a Knight who wasn't so easily fooled, it seemed the captain had opted for a more direct method of deception.
The Knight gave Kaleesh a curious look. "You must be the outsider who helped cause the mess in the east. I will deal with you later." Without giving the captain the chance to say anything else, she turned her attention back to Arran. "Show me the battlefield."
A chill went down Arran's spine. He'd held a sliver of hope that her presence was just an unlucky coincidence, but if she recognized Kaleesh, there could be no doubt that she'd come for a reason.
Still, he had no choice but to follow her order. He had already offended her by ignoring her invitation, and he was in no hurry to discover what would happen if he provoked her any further.
"Of course," he said. "It's on the other side of the village. I'll show you the way."
"Be quick about it," the Knight replied curtly. Then, with a glance at the people gathered around them, she said in a louder voice, "The rest of you will wait for us in the village."
While the words caused some disappointed looks among the soldiers and Rangers, none dared question her commands. In the Imperium, a Knight's power was enough to grant near-absolute authority.
And so, barely a few minutes later, Arran found himself alone with the Knight as they made their way to the field where he'd battled and defeated the Blightspawn.
When they were a few hundred paces from the village, the Knight gave Arran an appraising look. "You rejected my offer," she said matter-of-factly. "Why?"
It was a question Arran had expected, and he replied at once. "I don't like to owe debts. Especially to strangers."
"Foolish pride." The woman gave a disapproving sigh. "I offered you an opportunity that most Darians would give their left hand for, yet you chose to waste your time in the east, even getting involved in the Lords' petty squabbles."
"An opportunity?" Arran raised an eyebrow. "You never told me what you were offering. And even if I did, why would I stake my future on a stranger's charity?"
He had already decided that there was no point in trying to grovel. Not only did he have little talent for flattery, he also doubted that it would accomplish much with this woman. So far, he'd seen little to suggest that she would be swayed by honeyed words.
His words seemed to take the Knight by surprise. "You wonder what I was offering?" Her expression turned thoughtful, and then, much to Arran's surprise, she laughed. "I suppose it makes sense that an outsider wouldn't know."
Arran looked at her in puzzlement. "Know what?"
"That I am an Imperial Knight."
There was a meaningful pause after the Knight's words, and she looked at Arran expectantly. It was clear that she expected some sort of response.
Yet the reaction she hoped for did not come. Instead, all Arran offered was a blank stare. He knew that Imperial Knights were exceptionally talented Knights who worked directly for the Imperator, but he had little idea of how that related to his position.
Seeing his nonplussed expression, the woman frowned, a hint of frustration in her eyes. "It appears you still have much to learn about the Imperium."
Arran gave her an apologetic shrug. "I haven't had much opportunity to learn. Most of my time in the Imperium has been spent in the mines and on the road."
"Then let me explain," she said. "We are the vanguard that protects the Imperium from the Blight. While the Lords and Archons squabble over power and influence, we serve the Imperium, striking down the enemies who seek to destroy us all."
Pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, and she continued in a more forceful voice, "We are the elite, the backbone of the Imperium. Without us, the Imperium would crumble like a castle built from sand. But as long as we remain, the Imperium shall persist."
Passionate though her speech was, Arran couldn't help but frown. "So what does that have to do with me?"
She faced Arran with a severe expression. "What I gave you was an invitation to become one of my apprentices — an invitation to start on the path toward becoming an Imperial Knight. The opportunity to join our ranks and gain power you cannot even begin to understand."
Had Arran been the common mercenary he pretended to be, perhaps he would have been awed by her words. But he had battled dragons, faced self-proclaimed gods, and witnessed the last breaths of a dying world. And so, his eyes remained calm as he faced the Knight. Even if he'd missed out on a valuable opportunity, it wasn't a disaster.
"But, of course, you refused my invitation," she went on. "And so, I was forced to choose another apprentice."
"Negin," Arran guessed, now understanding why the girl had been among the Rangers who arrived at the village.
The Knight nodded. "It was her willpower that persuaded me, but…" She narrowed her eyes as she peered at Arran. "Her strength has grown faster than I thought possible. Much faster."
Arran felt a surge of unease at her words. He had granted the girl the Blood Ruin to save her life in the ruined battlefield, but he hadn't expected that she would become an Imperial Knight's personal apprentice. And now, from the look in the woman's eyes, he knew she had suspicions — and perhaps more than that.
Fortunately, however, they had just reached the area where he had battled the Blightspawn, and he quickly took the opportunity to change the subject. While he'd still have to deal with her suspicions, at least that would buy him some moments to come up with a plan.
"We're here," he said, gesturing at the field before them.
The gesture was unnecessary. Hundreds of corpses littered the ground ahead, the Blightspawn's oversized bodies already bloated with rot. And accompanying the gruesome sight was the equally horrifying smell of death, strong enough that it almost made Arran gag in disgust.
The Knight stared at the battlefield for some time. "It must have been quite a battle," she finally said in a soft voice, though her expression did not betray even a hint of her thoughts.
Arran merely responded with a silent nod, already wondering whether the Knight had recognized that these Blightspawn had been defeated by a single person.
At this point, there was little evidence left. The Blightspawn's bodies were already beginning to rot, and the ground had been trampled by the mercenaries and soldiers who'd looted and searched the battlefield.
Moreover, most of the wounds on the Blightspawn's remains weren't caused by Arran's blade. In the chaos of battle, many of them had fallen to their allies' weapons, and no small number had been burned to cinders by the Reaver's magic.
Yet although the battlefield's secrets were well-hidden, Arran did not feel reassured. Not with this woman at his side.
Had she been a normal Knight, there would have been no reason to worry. As strong as Knights were, he had some idea of their perception and insights, and neither of those should allow them to learn much from the chaotic scene around them.
But the woman who accompanied him was different. And if her perception matched the power he suspected she had, then she might well notice things that others would miss.
He silently cursed himself for not doing a more thorough job in destroying the evidence. That had been a deliberate choice, of course — for the mercenaries to spend a day burning the Blightspawn's bodies would certainly have raised questions — but now, he began to wonder whether his choice was the right one.
Yet if the Knight saw anything that aroused her suspicion, she did not say so. Instead, she quietly examined the scene for several minutes, then finally looked up. "Show me the Reaver's body."
Arran did as she said, quickly finding his defeated enemy's mangled corpse at the center of the Blightspawn remains. "This is it," he said when he found it, pointing at the Reaver's decapitated body.
When the Knight saw the corpse, a frown crossed her face, and she gave Arran a surprised look. "You removed its amulet before you killed it?"
Arran nodded. "I wanted to see what would happen. I was told that removing their amulets would kill them."
The woman looked at him thoughtfully. "A reasonable thought, though you will have discovered that it's pointless. Even without their amulets, Reavers can still last for minutes — and some much longer than that. It's far easier just to kill them outright."
"So I've noticed," Arran replied. Mere seconds were enough to decide a battle, and minutes might as well be centuries.
Some time passed as the Knight inspected the Reaver's body and the area around them, with Arran looking on impassively. Whatever she would discover, it was too late to hide anything now.
Finally, when the Knight finishing studying the Reaver's corpse, she turned back to face Arran. And this time, there was a knowing look in her eyes that instantly told Arran he had a problem.
"It seems that bloodline of yours is even stronger than I expected."
Arran felt a chill in his heart at her words. His magic might be his biggest secret, but the Blood Ruin was no less important. And in the Imperium, it might well be every bit as dangerous.
But panic would not help him. Whatever the Knight thought she knew, it couldn't be more than a suspicion. And so, he faced the Knight with a calm expression, ready to answer her questions.
Yet as he met her gaze, what he found wasn't curiosity or suspicion. Rather, her dark eyes held a shimmer of anticipation — something almost resembling eagerness.
That glint in her eyes was all the warning he got. An instant after their eyes met, she suddenly burst into motion, drawing her starmetal sword in a single sharp movement.
And then, she struck.