Breathing.

—

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A new kind of Witcher?"

Looking up at the wooden palisade wall, Richard saw the man trying his best to stay calm after being pointed at. Even though the act managed to fool his subjects, the increased heart rate, the constricting and rising blood flow, and a single drop of sweat forming on his temple were undeniable signs that this king was scared of him.

"I don't know what you did to that foul creature, but as long as the veins of Redenia are still flowing, I will do my utmost to reward you handsomely."

Seeing the Redenian king's heart rate pounding in silent trepidation, waiting for his answer, Richard finally spoke, "I want every child who can conjure elements with their hands to be treated as a normal citizen."

The king nodded in understanding, wanting to agree with his condition, but unfortunately, his subjects were too foolish to grasp the intricate political exchange occurring.

"Hah! You foul Witcher! You dare demand this witch be spared when she was to be sacrificed to the Eternal Fire! Never! These dogs are dirty with their sinful magic! And look what they've done! More and more god-awful creatures keep coming! It must be because of their experiments!

"Yeah! These sinful dogs aren't worthy of being treated equally after what they've done!"

"My farm was destroyed because of their magic! Winter came in a single day, and it's supposed to be summer!"

"Ptui! Damn these loathsome witches! If not for their magic, I'd be with my darling Viola in Passiflora!"

One insult after another was hurled at the children, with some of the crowd beating and spitting on them without restraint. Richard tried his hardest to stay calm and passive, knowing the children's safety was out of his hands. Even though the veins in his hands bulged, itching for action, he took a deep breath and waited for the king's response.

Sadly, the king's belief that he was safe atop the wall with a dimeritium bomb in his subject's hand was his biggest downfall. After a few minutes of calculating the pros and cons, Radovid V decided to trust the fifteen-meter palisade. "You hear them, Witcher. I can't ignore my subjects' pleas regarding these dogs."

Looking toward his Witch Hunter subjects, the king said, "Throw away the useless ones."

"As you wish, my king."

Seeing this scene, especially knowing one of them still had a beat of will in her tiny heart, Richard's scorching breath suddenly became sizzling red-hot. A whistling sound like a steam engine ignited, and the surrounding air combusted into a fiery inferno. His cheap katana, which only had red paint moments ago, now truly burned red-hot like iron in molten lava.

Witnessing this magical scene, Radovid instantly ordered arrows to be rained down along with the launching of the dimeritium bomb.

Slash, slash, slash—Richard split the incoming arrows in two without missing a beat while running closer to the wooden walls. Boom—the bomb exploded in his face, but it had no effect on him since the atomic structure of his abilities remained on the physical plane, unlike the children's magic.

With one fluid movement, he parkoured atop the walls. Seeing the pale faces of those who realized their reliance on the bomb was useless against him, Richard began dancing with his first form, massacring every person with a foul and filthy heartbeat while incapacitating those with relatively clean blood.

"STOP! STOP! I ORDER YOU TO STOP THIS INSTANT, WITCHER!"

Pausing his raging Dance of Whirlwind, Richard saw Radovid pointing a dagger at one of the teenage sorceresses' neck.

"Witcher! If you want this girl to live, you must promise me one thing. That is…"

Ignoring Radovid's rambling and seeing his subordinates attempting the same tactic by taking many malnourished children hostage, Richard's anger boiled like raging lava. His mind raced at lightning speed to devise a countermeasure to save them. Remembering his Dance of Whirlwind wasn't suited for swift attacks on numerous targets in a straight line, he adjusted his stance and breathing.

Entering a Selfless State of tranquility, he executed a fluid dragon motion, slashing the filthy creatures one after another, leaving burning, molten armor amidst their decapitated heads. By the time he finished, fifty foul people who wanted to take hostages instantly were sent to the underworld using the newly developed second form.

"So, give up this madness and ensure my safety. Huh? What happened to my hand? ARGH!! MY HAND! MY PRECIOUS HAND!"

Flicking the blood off his blade, Richard turned around and sheathed his katana. Walking over and kicking Radovid away from the teenage sorceress, he gently asked her, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes."

Nodding, he then faced the king, who writhed in pain on the ground. After five minutes of agonizing pain and telling his subjects not to come any closer or risk being incapacitated or decapitated and not to fire arrows at will, the king finally heard Richard's modified demands.

"I want every person this lady here tells to come here."

Seeing the king nod in silence, Richard turned to the teenage sorceress he had just saved. "May I know your name, magical lady?"

"J-Jaina. Jaina Rightmoore."

Nodding in understanding, he asked in a polite tone, "Care to tell this king here all the magical people in this city along with their family names? Only those who received the same treatment, sorry, as you, my lady."

"Y-yes."

While Jaina recounted the miserable people names to the king, Richard walked to the child with the tiny but strong heartbeat he had noticed earlier. Placing his hand on her heart, he imagined transferring his rejuvenating breath to her. After several tries, he saw her heartbeat return to normal, albeit still weak. He let out a heavy breath, relieved by the successful operation.

Taking the hunchback child into his arms, he then began rejuvenating the other children who were too weak to stand. After several minutes of walking back and forth until all the magical ladies and girls in the wooden palisade could walk normally, he stood before the king again.

"Second, give these children a proper bath and a good meal. Third, prepare a chain of caravans large enough to accommodate everyone on the list, along with supplies for a year's journey." Looking at the grinding-teethed Radovid, especially the sword at his waist, Richard finally said, "And, I want your sword."

—