The Adventures of an Overpowered Knight in Another World Chapter 592- Knight Giacomo (3)

Every single petal mended her injury before merging seamlessly into her flesh.

Within an instant, Cecilia's breath grew steady, dragging her away from the brink of death.

Her fatigue vanished completely, returning her to her peak condition.

Such a massive influx of healing power might have overrun a regular person's frame.

Consider Verdia and Delicia as cases in point. Healing them required special techniques, including direct skin contact to temper the skill's potency.

That approach led to all sorts of complications.

Yet Cecilia stood as a High Elf. Her body possessed superior strength and distinct qualities beyond those of ordinary humans or elves.

Her innate robust constitution allowed her to take in the sacred restoration with perfect harmony.

Cecilia gradually rose in Reinhardt’s embrace, inspecting her form. The debilitating frailty that had overwhelmed her just before faded away like a vanishing illusion.

Her fingers brushed her abdomen, site of the deadly gash, discovering only flawless skin. No trace of injury remained, scar or otherwise.

Shock surged in her eyes as she raised them to the man at her side. The one responsible for this miracle.

With her thoughts sharpened once more, she identified the voice.

That voice resounding across the palace as she teetered near demise came from him.

He was the one who had desperately called her name throughout the halls.

But this awareness only intensified her bewilderment.

He belonged to the human race. Her mother had cautioned her endlessly against humans—their greed, treachery, and insatiable crave for dominance and rank.

The figure before her clearly hailed from that kind. Still, the manner in which he cradled her.

In the gentle support for her wounded form. In the evident strain that gripped his voice before.

In the subtle ease still etched on his face.

It felt like he dreaded her loss.

Like her life held real importance for him.

Cecilia failed to comprehend it.

With the healing complete, Reinhardt gazed down at Cecilia cradled in his hold.

Right then, their eyes locked.

For a fleeting instant, silence reigned as neither uttered a sound.

Reinhardt let out a soft breath, and his following words nearly brought tears to Cecilia’s eyes.

"I finally found you."

Simple phrases, yet brimming with profound feelings.

His voice carried relief, a hint of persistent remorse, and an emotion she couldn't pinpoint.

Why?

Why did this man brim with joy and ease at her sight?

What meaning hid in his statement?

Cecilia's heart clenched.

Tears gathered in her eyes for motives beyond her grasp. Questions piled high, grievances ready to spill toward him.

But prior to that tender instant deepening further, icy dread raced along her back.

Amid the whirlwind of recent happenings, a vital detail had slipped her mind.

Her head whipped toward the chamber's distant end.

"Be careful!"

Yet her warning arrived way too late.

"Reinhardt."

A profound, rasping tone that sent shivers through the air boomed forth.

Crimson eyes gleamed open amid the shadows.

Reinhardt gradually swiveled toward the throne.

Atop the raised platform rested a solitary form. He lingered there throughout. Unmoving and hushed, observing the entire chaos.

Blended perfectly with the enveloping gloom, his existence evaded detection by all.

Despite Reinhardt's divided focus, he slipped past his awareness undetected.

Lounging loosely on the throne's steps, the silhouette towered tall and sturdy. Disheveled black locks draped his visage, veiling keen traits toughened by endless warfare.

Clad entirely in somber gray plate, he radiated an intense presence, tempered through years of unyielding strife.

Reinhardt knew him at once.

This was Sir Giacomo. Among the Three Paragons of Lunaris. A warrior transcending superhuman bounds into heroic domains.

A mythic figure whose tales bards once chanted in Reinhardt's early knighthood days.

Or so he once was.

Currently, the warrior ahead bore no resemblance to the knight etched in Reinhardt's memory.

Cracks marred Giacomo’s flesh, oozing thick shadowy essence from the fissures. His former mortal gaze now swirled as infernal red voids.

Sinuous black streaks crawled over his countenance, throat, and limbs, twisting eerily akin to pulsing vessels.

Yet the most unnerving feature shone as the radiant red sphere lodged squarely in his armor's core.

That object served as undeniable evidence of his alteration.

"Sir Giacomo?" Reinhardt’s gaze sharpened a touch.

Thoughts whirled as he identified the metamorphosis afflicting the man.

A pact with a demon! Not merely any pact—Sir Giacomo had fused a demon heart right into himself.

A taboo practice amounting to certain doom.

Yet, should the implantation succeed, a knight bearing a demon heart would surge far beyond their levels in power and gain instant access to demonic spells.

A Level 10 knight would suffer an even greater transformation.

Picture a knight whose strikes and abilities could shatter mountains. Now envision that powerhouse also commanding sinister demonic spells.

This yielded a catastrophic entity, far more devastating and resilient to death than ever before.

Still, Reinhardt struggled to fathom why Sir Giacomo, a celebrated kingdom hero, would stoop to such desperate measures.

Right as Reinhardt opened his mouth to speak once more, a feeble hand seized his arm.

Cecilia was the one grasping him.

"Go!"

Her form, cradled in his arms, quivered violently as her gaze fixed on the knight lounging by the stairs, raw terror shining in her eyes.

"Run from here! Forget about me and go!" Urgency laced her every word.

Though joy and relief swelled in her at his arrival, she grasped the situation's utter futility. She couldn't bear for this rescuer, who'd sparked brief happiness in her, to meet his end here.

"That man... he killed everyone. The king... the knights... everyone."

Concern filled Cecilia's voice as she addressed Reinhardt.

She hardly knew him—in fact, today marked their first encounter. Even so, she refused to witness her savior's death.

The knight responsible for the slaughter possessed absurd, overwhelming strength. Having witnessed it herself, her despair deepened.

Giacomo loomed in her thoughts as despair incarnate.

Cecilia's worried pleas to escape drew a smile from Reinhardt. Nevertheless, he refused to flee or budge from his spot.

With calm poise, he locked eyes on Giacomo, devoid of fear or unease.

Just icy certainty.

So the enemy had butchered everyone here?

He'd integrated a demon heart for greater power?

What of it?

Silence blanketed the throne hall for a fleeting instant.

Reinhardt held steady, Cecilia propped partly against him, his golden gaze pinned on the defeated knight.

From the moment he entered this world, Reinhardt had endured endless clashes. Monsters... demons... armies. Even knights turned demonic, once revered as legends.

He'd battled them all.

Yet none had truly tested him or sparked true battle fervor.

His ludicrous Abilities, Stats, Divine Titles, Divine Traits, Skills, and Arsenal verged on the ridiculous.

In a word... broken.

That caliber of prowess forged unbreakable confidence.

An ironclad belief that he'd vanquish any foe or force arrayed against him.

Thus, facing a demon-heart hero before him now, must he dread the man?

The response echoed a thunderous no.

Reinhardt confronted the corrupted knight but held off from instant assault.

Rather, he initiated conversation, gauging the man's motives and the causes of this chaos.

Lunaris's capital lay in ruins, proclaiming its collapse.

Yet the disaster's origins and events stayed veiled in enigma.

One of humanity's seven mighty kingdoms had crumbled; such tidings would rock mankind's foundations.

Even more chilling, their downfall struck with terrifying speed.

Humanity's endurance hinged on unraveling this, and no sharper path existed than interrogating the chaos's architect.

Reinhardt declared, "Sir Giacomo, I have long heard about your esteemed name."

"Is that so?"

Intrigued perhaps, the knight cracked a smile.

"That’s right. I’m afraid there are no knights my age who haven’t grown up listening to the stories of your valor".