Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 72: Julie Nikolaevna Hellbane, The Whispering Blade

Cassius and the others waited for the cloud to come closer and then, they saw them.

Over twenty knights—horses galloping at full speed, their hooves pounding against the ground with rhythmic precision. Their armor gleamed under the sunlight, their bodies moving in perfect unison, displaying discipline and training far beyond that of ordinary knights.

And yet, the most striking feature?

Not a single man among them.

Every knight was a woman, some appearing as young as their early twenties, while others carried the air of battle-worn veterans in their early middle age. Their expressions were unreadable, hardened by experience, their eyes like sharpened steel, locked onto their target—Cassius.

Despite the undeniable beauty that many of them possessed, their presence was anything but soft or delicate. These were warriors—women who had stood on the battlefield, faced death, and lived to tell the tale. Even in their disciplined charge, there was a silent warning: they were not to be taken lightly.

As they neared, the riders didn’t slow down, but at the last possible moment, their formation shifted. Without any spoken command, they spread out perfectly, encircling Cassius and his small gathering in a precise and coordinated maneuver.

It was seamless—a display of pure discipline that made it clear just how well-trained they were.

They didn’t just surround them. They cut off every possible escape in a way that only veterans of battle could.

Cassius, still holding his sandwich, slowly lowered it back onto the tray and sighed. "Well..." He muttered. "That’s certainly one way to ruin a meal."

But while Cassius remained unfazed, the cold intensity in the knights gazes didn’t waver.

And oddly enough, while their stares were firm, assessing, and guarded—there was also something else lurking beneath the surface.

Pity.

They looked at Cassius not just as a target, but as if he were a pitiful lamb being led to the slaughter.

And yet, strangely enough, there was also fascination in some of their gazes. A quiet curiosity. As though they were studying him—trying to figure out who he truly was.

The silence was tense.

Then, in a hushed breath, Isabelle murmured something.

"...The Sacred Guard."

The name alone carried weight.

Portia’s lips parted slightly in realization, while even Lucious—who rarely showed signs of outward surprise—raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment.

The Sacred Guard was not just any knightly order.

They were an elite all-women brigade that operated directly under the banner of the Holyfield family, sworn to uphold the protection, safety, and welfare of the entire Holyfield territory.

Unlike the many other knightly factions that served nobles out of obligation or politics, the Sacred Guard had built its reputation on something far greater—unwavering trust from the people they protected.

Since their formation a few years ago, they had risen to prominence at an unprecedented rate, their feats becoming the stuff of legend across the continent. They were not just guardians of the Holyfield estate, but the defenders of an entire region, a force that had reshaped the very idea of what a knight’s duty should be.

Where other knight orders focused only on battle and war, the Sacred Guard had made it their mission to maintain true peace.

They were not content with merely reacting to threats—they anticipated them, sniffed them out before they could ever take root.

The moment a crime was about to occur, the Sacred Guard was already there to stop it.

The moment an enemy force considered invading the territory, the Sacred Guard had already made preparations to crush them.

The moment even the slightest unrest stirred within the Holyfield domain, they had already deployed the necessary resources to quell it before it even became a problem.

They were swift, precise, and merciless against those who sought to disrupt the land.

Because of their efforts, banditry had plummeted, thievery had become almost nonexistent, and murder rates had dropped to an all-time low.

It was said that in the past, people would never leave their homes unarmed, always carrying some form of protection against criminals or dangers lurking in the shadows.

But now?

People no longer needed to.

Thanks to the Sacred Guard’s sub-armies—smaller, highly trained units deployed across every major settlement and road within the Holyfield territory—the region had become a sanctuary of stability.

And their efforts extended beyond just security.

Unlike other noble-controlled knight orders—who often looked down on commoners, seeing them as nothing more than subjects—the Sacred Guard had woven themselves directly into the fabric of society.

They did not just protect the people; they helped them.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

During harvest season, they assisted farmers in gathering crops.

They regularly visited orphanages, offering aid, supplies, and even lessons to help educate abandoned children.

They listened to the concerns of the people, acting as mediators in local disputes.

They even gave a portion of their salaries to orphanages, shelters, and struggling families, proving that they were not just warriors, but servants of the people.

Because of this, the Sacred Guard had become more than just knights—they were beloved figures, symbols of trust, safety, and justice.

To the common folk, they were heroes in the purest sense of the word.

And that was why they were called the Sacred Guard.

For they were not just warriors with swords.

They were the shield that safeguarded the people.

Isabelle’s eyes shimmered with admiration and awe.

As a young woman, it was hard not to be inspired by the Sacred Guard, a legion of knights who had not only proved themselves in battle but also endeared themselves to the masses through their unwavering kindness.

’They’re exactly the kind of knights I wanted to see growing up.’ She thought, feeling her heart swell with admiration.

But then, her gaze flicked to the circle of mounted warriors arrayed around them. Wait…Confusion replaced her starry-eyed wonder.

’Why are they surrounding us?’ She wanted to ask, but before she could form the question, Cassius—still calmly eating his sandwich—spoke up.

"Portia, Isabelle." He said, his voice unhurried even though armed women surrounded them. "Head on back for now. It seems the one who has it out for me the most has finally taken the bait."

At those cryptic words, Isabelle felt a prickle of unease dance along her spine. Something bad is going to happen, she thought nervously, her gaze darting between Cassius and the circle of formidable knights.

She opened her mouth to insist on staying by his side—Master, let me help—but Portia’s gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"It’s all right." Portia murmured, her tone reassuring yet firm. "It seems like our master anticipated this, looking at how confident he is now." She nodded toward Cassius, who offered them both a lazy, confident smile in return. "We shouldn’t interrupt."

Reluctantly, Isabelle let out a small sigh and followed Portia away from the circle, pratin that nothing happened to their master.

The knights, as if on cue, parted to allow them passage, though their eyes never left Cassius—or Lucious, who remained at his master’s side.

Just as the two maids were leaving the perimeter, the line of knights parted again.

Only this time, three more horses emerged, riders leaning forward in their saddles.

Isabelle’s breath caught in her throat when she saw who sat astride those steeds.

"Is that…Is that…?" Her voice was hushed, barely audible over the sound of the horses hooves on the grass.

Portia nodded in reverent confirmation. "Yes." She murmured. "It’s them."

Meanwhile, Lucious—ever at Cassius’s elbow—watched as the newcomers approached.

Unlike the steady calm Cassius displayed, Lucious felt a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. His lips twitched into a strained smile. "I guess this is all part of your plan too, Master?" He asked in a tense whisper. "But, uh…Is your plan really robust enough to handle this particular visitor?"

Cassius answered with a sly grin, his gaze fixed on the tall figure at the forefront. "Oh, who exactly is this person that managed to even make my fearless butler tremble in his boots?"

Lucious swallowed, turning his eyes back to the imposing woman who led the trio. She sat astride her horse with a grace that almost seemed otherworldly.

Her armor gleamed in the afternoon light—ornate yet practical, crafted to allow ease of movement rather than mere display. Though her figure was visibly feminine, especially with her bountiful chest and her bottom that could even be seen from the front because of how thick it was, there was no mistaking the power radiating from her.

"Who else..." Lucious began, exhaling slowly. "...Other than the youngest child—and most powerful heir—of the Hellbane family? A prodigy who mastered wind elemental magic at the age of eighteen…" He shook his head, half in awe, half in nerves. "A woman whose beauty is so profound that no man in the continent can claim not to have dreamed of her."

His voice rose a notch, as though compelled by the sheer majesty of her presence. "And, of course, the founder of the Sacred Guard itself."

"...Julie Nikolaevna Hellbane—better known as the Whispering Blade."

Julie Nikolaevna Hellbane or Julie as her close comrades called her rode forward on her magnificent steed, her presence alone enough to command absolute silence from the gathered knights and spectators alike. As she approached, the air itself seemed to carry a weight, as though nature itself acknowledged her arrival.

She was breathtaking—not just in beauty, but in the sheer majesty that surrounded her.

Long, flowing strands of platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back, gleaming under the golden light of the sun, reminiscent of fine-spun silk.

Her hair, despite its length, remained unruffled by the wind, as if the very air bowed to her command.

Sharp emerald-green eyes, framed by thick lashes, pierced through the space between them, filled with wisdom and intensity—the gaze of a warrior who had seen countless battles and emerged unbroken.

Despite the undeniable femininity of her features, there was nothing soft about her expression. She bore herself not as a noble pampered by luxury, but as a seasoned knight, her every movement precise, calculated, and honed to lethal perfection.

She was clad in a pristine set of silver and azure armor, its intricate engravings depicting the crest of the Hellbane family—a roaring lion encircled by swirling gusts of wind. Unlike the bulky plate armor of traditional knights, hers was designed with both mobility and power in mind.

It accentuated her athletic yet perfectly well endowed physique, its fit both graceful and commanding. And at her side, strapped to her saddle, was her weapon—a sleek, beautifully forged silver sword, its edges humming faintly with residual energy.

She was the embodiment of a knight—strength, discipline, and nobility incarnate.

But Julie Nikolaevna Hellbane was not just any knight.

She was the youngest daughter of the Hellbane family—the family that had served as the Holyfield’s personal guard for centuries. The Hellbane bloodline was known for producing some of the greatest warriors in the kingdom, their skills unmatched in both swordplay and elemental magic.

Julie, however, had shattered every expectation placed upon her.

Though she was the youngest of her father’s five children, her path to dominance was unlike any before her.

At the age of thirteen, she defeated all four of her older brothers—each of whom had been trained as future commanders—solidifying herself as the strongest heir despite being the youngest.

By the age of sixteen, she did the impossible—she defeated her own father, Theodore Hellbane, the man regarded as one of the kingdom’s greatest swordmasters, in a formal duel. And she did it without magic, relying purely on raw skill.

At eighteen, she did what no one had accomplished before—created her own magic formula for wind-elemental magic, refining it to such perfection that she became a kingdom-wide prodigy.

By twenty-four, she had mastered both sword and magic, reaching a level that was acknowledged as Grandmaster-tier—a status that only a handful of warriors in the entire continent could claim.

And finally, at twenty-six, she founded the Sacred Guard—a force that would change the very concept of knighthood across the land.

Now, at twenty-nine, she was not just a knight.

She was a legend.

A warrior whose very name inspired awe and reverence.

A woman whose strength was spoken of in hushed whispers and grand songs alike.

With her unmatched class, terrifying power, and peerless beauty, Julie Nikolaevna Hellbane had become a figure of admiration across the continent.

To men, she was the untouchable goddess—an existence so far above them that they could only dream of standing beside her.

To women, she was everything they aspired to be—a hero beyond compare, proof that greatness was not reserved for men alone.

To the world, she was a symbol.

A force of nature.

A legend in the flesh.

And now, this legend sat atop her horse, staring down at Cassius Holyfield with an unreadable expression, as if gauging the very worth of his existence...

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Pictures of Julie will be uploaded to the character illustrations page as well on discord as well...Check them out!