I Don’t Know the Original, I’m Too Busy Trying to Make a Living

With a resounding crash, Rianel pushed open the inn’s door and headed straight for the stairs, descending toward the basement.

"Where are you going?" Susan hurried after him, panic evident in her voice. But Rianel remained silent, his steps steady and unyielding.

The stairwell led to a dimly lit corridor. Rianel strode down the shadowy hallway without hesitation, his presence filling the space with quiet authority. He stopped in front of a heavy iron-barred door.

Susan’s gaze quivered as she stared at him. "D-Grand Duke… why are we… here?"

Shing.

Rianel unsheathed his sword, its icy blue blade glinting in the dim light. Susan gasped and instinctively took a step back.

With a swift motion, Rianel sliced through the iron bars as if they were paper. The door groaned loudly as he kicked it open.

Creak!

From the other side, a sharp blade lunged toward him.

"Die!" screamed a masked assailant.

Rianel dodged effortlessly, his upper body swaying just enough to avoid the strike. His counterattack was immediate and precise, his sword flashing through the air.

The assailant’s arm fell to the floor in a clean cut.

"Argh! M-my arm!" the man howled, his cry echoing in the corridor.