Jinn BLADE-Chapter 178 | Mockery

The scornful remarks from the nobles didn’t stop for even once—they kept rolling across the hallway like waves hitting a rock off a shore again and again and again, each insult thrown at Jinn with clear repulsive disgust.

They mocked him with multiple names, a slave, a filthy blue eyed Rinarian, a creature unworthy to even breathe the air inside the Royal Palace, let alone stand upon its polished ornate floors.

Their voices blended into a singular storm of hatred, loud and sharpening with every new noble who joined the chant. Warriors of high nobility only watched with disappointed looks, their fingers at the bridge of their brows in frustration.

Meanwhile, the young noble from House Vulkan kept his proud smirk plastered across his face, clearly enjoying the growing noise and remarks against Jinn. It looked almost like he was feeding off the reactions of the others, throwing out one remark and letting the surrounding nobles do the rest, like hungry sharks snapping at meat the moment it touched the water.

But Jinn did not flinch.

He didn’t glare back or shrink under their gazes, nor did he give them even a single reaction to latch onto. He simply stood there, cold and unmoved, as if his entire being hard turned into an iron wall that no insult could ever crack.

He had expected this the moment he stepped foot inside the palace.

He knew nobles of this kind—they always barked the loudest when they sensed someone they thought they could step on.

And so, Jinn remained silent, expression steady, refusing to let any of them see even a sliver of weakness or irritation. To him, their insults were nothing more than background noises, annoying—yes—but harmless when you look at it in a greater picture.

But Akavi...

Akavi was the exact opposite.

Her face darkened.

Her eyes sharpened.

And when she finally spoke—

Her voice slammed through the hall like a whip.

"Silence."

It was only one word, but it hit the nobles so hard that the entire hallway froze in response.

Conversations and mocking remarks died instantly as every noble from soldier-born to silk wearing aristocrat flinched.

The weight of her voice rolled across them like a sudden gust of cold air, forcing them to bow their or step back in fear and respect.

As if no one dared to breathe too loudly.

"I deem him worthy of being here," Akavi continued, voice colder and sharper now, "because I said so. And none of you will argue... because I said so."

Her final words echoed with a threat that made several nobles visibly stiffen. Even the nobles who moments ago shouted the loudest quickly quieted down, their faces pale. The authority of a princess—especially this princess—was something none of them wanted to challenge.

The young nobleman, however, didn’t back down.

If anything, he looked even angrier now, his jaw tightening as he stared at Jinn with a mix of hatred and jealousy. He crossed his arms slowly, a sign that he wasn’t finished. Something malicious lit up within his eyes, like a twisted plan had bloomed in his head at the perfect moment.

"The princess defending a Rinarian slave?" he said with a mocking tone dripping with fake innocence.

"So it is true, isn’t it? This scum has actually managed to seduce you, your highness?"

A collective gasp erupted across the hall.

That word—seduce—was like throwing oil into a fire.

Heads snapped up. Eyes widened. Even the music from the far end of the hall seemed to falter.

"And how," he continued, raising his voice even louder so everyone would hear,

"would the Empress react if she hears such things?"

Silence.

True silence.

Akavi’s eyes twitched.

Her jaw clenched.

Her fingers curled just slightly at her side.

At the mention of her mother... something inside her cracked.

"Mother has nothing to do with this," Akavi snapped, her voice trembling—not from fear, but from barely contained emotion. "Your disrespect towards my personal affairs will not be ignored."

Jinn didn’t miss it.

He watched her carefully, his lone eye narrowing slightly.

There was something deeper in her reaction—something raw and sensitive. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

This topic...

Her mother...

It wounded her more than she wanted anyone to see.

And Jinn, silently observing everything, made a mental note.

Not to use against her now—not here, not in this moment—but a thought formed in the back of his mind.

It could be a tool.

One that might hold weight in the future.

If he ever needed it.

But for now... he watched.

Silent.

Murmurs and scattered conversations rolled through the grand hallway, no longer loud and careless like earlier, but tense and uneasy now that the topic involved Princess Akavi herself.

Even the nobles who normally talked without restraint lowered their voices into nervous whispers, stealing glances between Akavi and the arrogant young man who started this whole thing. J

inn studied Akavi’s face again, noticing how her cheeks had taken a faint red tint—not the warmth of embarrassment but the tight, simmering heat of anger mixed with something she clearly didn’t want anyone to see. Whatever the reason, her reaction made it clear that the mention of her mother was a wound, and Jinn understood instantly that this was something far deeper than simple irritation.

Still, this situation had gone on way too long.

More high nobles from different wings of the palace began arriving, their footsteps echoing as they approached like a gathering storm.

Jinn’s lone eye tracked each of them one by one.

Off to the left, Troy leaned against the wall, arms crossed in that stern, judging way of his—like he was silently testing Jinn, waiting to see if he would act exactly as he had been taught when confronted with chaotic, delicate situations like this one.

On another corner, he spotted Mezra adjusting her glasses, expression calm yet sharp, beside Zendrell, who wore a smug grin as if this entire drama was nothing but entertainment for him.

And then, just behind a crowd of nobles, he saw his own squad—Dreilla, Gerahl, and Zhyn—standing with plates still full of food, watching the argument with their mouths half-full, like they were spectators in some street performance rather than soldiers in the Royal Palace.

Not far from them, General Gaius appeared, towering as always beside his daughter Rina, whose worried eyes flickered between Jinn and the nobles, clearly sensing the direction this would all go.

Jinn closed his eye for a brief second.

Long enough to gather his thoughts.

Long enough to decide.

This had to end now.

The young noble, seeing even more high-ranking nobles arriving, took it as his moment. He smirked, soaking in the attention, and puffed out his chest as if he believed this expanding audience would help him further humiliate Jinn and even the princess if he played his cards right.

"You, slave, do you have anything to sa—"

He never finished.

The moment Jinn opened his eye again, a cold, terrifying glare cut straight through the noble, and with that look Jinn let a small ripple of his eidra leak into the air.

It wasn’t much—barely even intentional—but the effect was immediate. The young man’s smirk shattered. His pupils widened. Instinct kicked in before thought.

In a single panicked motion, he drew his sword.

*shiiiing!

The weapon flashed under the hall’s light, its polished blade and ornate hilt revealing its high quality, the kind only old noble families could afford. He raised it toward Jinn—pointed directly at him—causing gasps from many nobles and narrowing stares from every warrior in the room.

Everyone knew what that meant.

In Zerafhon, aiming a weapon at someone—gun, blade, or eidra—was not an act of foolish temper.

It was a declaration.

A challenge.

A promise of violence and the consequences that would follow.

No turning back.

Jinn’s expression didn’t change. He just flicked his gaze sideways toward his squad.

That was all it took.

Dreilla stiffened first. Zhyn almost dropped his food. Gerahl blinked in surprise.

And then all three of them reacted at once, because they knew exactly what that look meant. They had seen it countless times on battlefields, during ambushes, during sieges—during any moment when Jinn was about to strike a powerful opponent.

No words were needed. Their squad had done this so many times that it was instinct.

Make space for Jinn.

Clear the surroundings.

Form the circle.

Let him fight.

"Tsk!" Gerahl clicked his tongue, dropping his plate onto an empty stool with absolute annoyance but also excitement. Dreilla put her dish aside and moved quickly, and Zhyn swallowed the last bit of cheese before jogging forward.

"Make space, make space!" Gerahl barked loudly, shoving back nobles with strength that forced even some armored soldiers to step aside.

Dreilla and Zhyn followed, pushing both startled nobles and curious bystanders back until a wide circular area formed in the center of the hallway.

An improvised arena—

a dueling ground

carved out right in the middle of the Royal Palace.

And at its center stood Jinn and the young noble, the tension between them sharp enough to cut the air itself.