Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel-Chapter 746: To Give My Life

Silmarien froze atop the platform.

His eyes narrowed, moving from the drawn blades to the familiar face stepping forward from the crowd. Disbelief flickered across his features, quickly smothered beneath cold composure.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "Regent—why is Aetherion not in his cell?"

Aetherion stepped fully into the light. His hair was unkempt, his face gaunt from imprisonment, but his eyes burned with vindictive clarity.

"Cell?" he scoffed. "You speak as though you had the right to put me there."

He spread his arms, gesturing to the armed nobles and guards behind him.

"You are a madman, Silmarien. A dangerous one. You do not deserve that crown."

A low wave of murmurs followed—some hesitant, some eager.

"You would drag our people back to the surface," Aetherion continued, his voice rising, "after a thousand years of survival in this sacred zone. You would gamble our existence on war while the outside world still burns with chaos. We are not ready."

He pointed accusingly at Silmarien.

"And worse—you consort with human scum. That creature called Chiron. A lesser being soaked in blood and heresy. You let him walk our sacred halls, whisper poison into your ears, and now you claim the Mother Tree is dying?"

Aetherion laughed bitterly.

"Blasphemy piled upon blasphemy."

Silmarien closed his eyes.

He exhaled slowly, the sound heavy with exhaustion rather than fear.

"So that's how you see it," he murmured.

Then he opened his eyes and looked directly at his brother.

"Couldn't you have waited?" Silmarien asked quietly. "Just a little longer."

The crowd leaned in despite themselves.

"Waited until I gave my life for the people," Silmarien continued, "and then ruled them without resistance. Would that not have been easier? Cleaner?"

Aetherion's lips curled into a thin, cruel smile.

"That is precisely why I'm here," he replied.

"To make sure you do."

A sudden rustle cut through the charged air.

Before anyone could react, a figure swung down from the boughs of the Mother Tree itself, boots skimming bark and leaf before landing lightly upon the earth—directly in front of Silmarien.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Chiron straightened slowly, brushing a dead leaf from his shoulder as though he had merely stepped out of a garden stroll. His presence alone shifted the atmosphere—subtle, dangerous, coiled.

He looked around, eyes lingering on the gathered nobles, the drawn blades, the trembling guards.

Then he smiled.

"When I was little," Chiron began, voice calm, almost wistful, "I heard stories of the elves."

Murmurs followed."its the human. Such disgusting creatures."

But Chiron was not bothered and continued talking.

"Stories of their grace. Their pride. Their unyielding honor." He tilted his head slightly, gaze lifting toward the vast gray canopy above. "All my life, I cursed my parents for not birthing me as one."

A soft chuckle escaped him.

"I never imagined," he continued, "that one day, hunting a single rotten soul… would bring me here."

His eyes slid briefly to Silmarien.

"And for that," Chiron said, lowering his head, "I am grateful. Even to a scum like me, Your Majesty showed trust."

He stepped forward.

Then—before the stunned crowd—he dropped to one knee.

The gasp this time was louder.

Silmarien nodded gently with an understanding look on his face.

"But I have also heard," Chiron went on, lifting his head, eyes sharp now, cutting, "that elven pride is unmatched under the heavens."

His gaze shifted.

It locked onto Aetherion.

"And yet," Chiron said softly, "I have never seen a coward like you."

Aetherion's face darkened.

"To raise blades against a king," Chiron continued, rising to his feet, "a king who stands ready to give his life for his people… while hiding behind guards, nobles, and whispers."

He reached to his side.

Steel sang as he drew his sword—clean, unadorned, deadly.

Holding it upright, Chiron planted its tip gently into the earth.

"So allow me," he said, voice carrying effortlessly across the clearing, "to offer my life instead."

Shock froze the gathering.

"If Prince Aetherion," Chiron declared, eyes never leaving him, "has even a shred of pride left as a true son of the late king—if he believes himself worthy of that crown—"

Chiron spread his arms slightly, blade gleaming between them.

"Then do not hide behind others."

"Step forward."

"Challenge me."

"To the death."

Silence fell like a blade pressed to the throat of the kingdom.

The challenge hung in the air like a drawn bowstring.

Slowly—inevitably—all eyes turned to Aetherion.

The murmuring crowd fell into an uneasy hush. Citizens, guards, elders, even the nobles who had arrived with swords half-drawn now stared at him. In that moment, the world narrowed to a single figure standing beneath a dying tree.

The Regent leaned in close, his voice a hurried whisper, sharp with unease.

"This is wrong," he muttered. "Something about this feels… wrong. If you accept and fall, you lose your life. But if you refuse—"

His jaw tightened.

"They will call you a coward."

Aetherion said nothing at first.

The Regent continued, desperation creeping into his tone. "Elves do not forgive cowardice. You will lose their respect. Their loyalty. Even the nobles standing behind you may turn."

Aetherion nodded slowly.

"I know," he replied.

Then he straightened.

Stepped forward.

His boots crunched against fallen leaves as he entered the open space before the guillotine. His voice rang out, clear and cold.

"Good."

The Regent stiffened.

"This is good," Aetherion said again, eyes locking onto Chiron. "I will kill this human first."

A cruel smile tugged at his lips.

"And then," he added, gaze flicking briefly to Silmarien, "I will kill my brother."

A ripple of shock passed through the crowd.

Unseen by all but the wind, Chiron gave a faint side-smirk—gone as quickly as it came.

Then he spoke.

"I agree," Chiron said calmly. "But there is one condition."

Aetherion narrowed his eyes.

"Because my cultivation is currently low," Chiron continued, lifting his sword slightly, "I will not insult elven pride by hiding behind power."

He pointed the blade toward the ground between them. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"No spiritual energy."

"No elemental energy."

"Just steel."

"Just skill."

"A true sword duel."

The clearing went utterly silent.

Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.