Chapter 133. Here, You’re the Weakest
Crackle, crackle! Fsshh!
At the pressure Sion exuded, the campfire flared wildly.
In midsummer, when the heat had been at its peak, the temperature suddenly seemed to plunge as if sprinkled with frost. No, the temperature hadn’t actually dropped. It was simply that the sharp, chilling aura tricked the brain into believing it had.
At this point, Aster could tell that this was no ordinary uninvited guest.
Naturally, his expression hardened.
“Why, you’re gonna swing at me?”
Good.
He’d been itching for an excuse anyway. Since his situation was already sketchy, he’d hoped to slip by quietly, but if the other side wanted to make a scene first… well, that made things easier.
With the mood shifting so suddenly, even Parun, who’d been keeping quiet, got into stance.
“This one’s no ordinary man. Stay alert.”
“Here, you’re the weakest. Worry about yourself.”
Crack!
That single word made a vein bulge on Parun’s previously expressionless forehead.
“Come to think of it, I’ve never crossed blades with you before.”
“Do we really need to? You couldn’t even beat a bug-hunter.”
“Your mouth runs fast. I wonder if it’ll still wag like that when your tongue’s cut out.”
“If you’re that curious, try me.”
The tension that had been between Sion and Aster quickly shifted into a standoff between Aster and Parun. And once the two decided to go all out, the sheer pressure dwarfed what Sion alone had released earlier.
Snap, snap!
Crack!
A violent clash of auras erupted between them. The force was so fierce that nearby branches began snapping like twigs.
Fssshhh!
The already unstable campfire didn’t last long before dying out completely.
Seeing that, Sion let out a short laugh.
‘These bastards…’
Now that he looked closely, neither of them were just herbalists.
To be exact, they were a “herbalist” and a “bug-catcher.” Not that he’d fully believed such nonsense from the start, but still.
“If you’re hiding your identities, it’s not for any noble reason. Both of you, huh…?”
Sion began exuding killing intent in earnest and took a step forward. But then…
Clang!
“…?”
A cheap iron sword rose diagonally from below, stopping right at his chest.
‘What the—?’
His eyes followed the blade upward. At the end of it stood a short knight clad in black armor.
‘…I didn’t sense her?’
No matter how faint someone’s killing intent, to have a sword reach him at this distance without reacting?
As Sion reeled in shock, the black knight opened her mouth, not even sparing him a glance.
“Don’t butt in. It’s just getting fun.”
“…”
No ordinary fighter.
That was Sion’s first thought upon seeing Shine’s skill.
Yet even so, the absurdity of the situation was so great that he almost lost all sense of reality.
“Will your bones set properly this time, old man? Eh? At your age, they don’t heal so easy, do they?”
“Half-grown brat with a loud mouth. Even a dog knows when to bark.”
The two rat-like mages bickered, acting as if he didn’t even exist.
“And to the winner between you two, I’ll grant the honor of facing me. Now go on, entertain me.”
The black knight, seemingly amused, even encouraged the fight.
When had the heir of the Lorutel family ever been treated like this?
A new experience, to be sure, but not a pleasant one.
“Fine then…”
Squeeze!
Sion grabbed Shine’s sword with his bare hand.
Schk!
Blood ran down the blade as his palm split open, but he didn’t care.
He’d already been in a foul mood thanks to those disgusting Dekulan bastards. And now, before him were those same detestable mages flaunting their arrogance, along with a knight who seemed worthy of testing his mettle.
“You wanna do this?”
Sion grinned.
“No reason not to.”
Tap!
He let go of Shine’s sword and lowered his own blade.
Crackle!
An overwhelming aura surged up, one that dwarfed what he’d shown before.
Zzzzt—!
Ether burst from his body, and Shine straightened, readying her stance.
“Very well. If you’re that eager to get beaten, I’ll oblige. Brace yourself.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
A thin, feral smile crept onto Sion’s lips.
Shine chuckled in turn. The location couldn’t have been better. Frik Mountain was rugged, and this particular slope was far removed from the Lorutel estate.
“I’ll let you have the first move.”
“Then I won’t refuse.”
Tap!
Sion’s shoulder twitched, and in the next instant a sharp thrust shot straight for Shine’s chest.
A clean, flawless strike, not a shred of wasted motion.
Clang!
“Not a bad opening move.”
Parrying the blow, Shine immediately counterattacked, closing the distance with a fluid motion.
Boom…!
Steel clashed against steel.
Ka-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-k!
Sparks flew in all directions.
As Shine and Sion exchanged rapid blows, Aster glanced over with a smirk.
“When you lose, take it like a man, yeah?”
“Funny hearing that from you—”
Clang!
Before he could finish, a punch came flying. Parun hastily raised a force field to block it.
“Strike first, win first.”
“You’ve no sense of class, do you?”
Crackle, crackle!
As Aster’s fists hammered against the barrier…
Whirr—!
Metallic orbs began to float in the air.
Eight Heart. Eight spheres spun around Parun as his eyes glowed sharply.
“Just don’t regret this.”
Flash—!
KR-KR-KR-KR-KR-KR-BOOM!
Countless spears of ice rained down upon the ground. Lightning flashed from the sky, and a frigid gale tore through the heavy midsummer air.
And amid the chaos…
“Regret? Not my style.”
Aster, who had backed off some distance, kicked off the ground and soared upward.
BOOM!
…The battle had begun.
* * *
The third sword, Zeke, sat cross-legged at the cliff’s edge, eyes closed.
Chrrk! Chrrk!
The quiet mountain filled only with the cries of insects. It wasn’t long before Zeke’s eyes slowly opened.
“Haa…”
A deep sigh escaped him.
“…What in the world am I supposed to do?”
He muttered, voice heavy with frustration.
‘…I am a knight.’
But also, the sword of Lorutel.
As a knight, he should strive for justice and protect the weak.
Yet as the sword of Lorutel, any act that brought even the slightest harm to the family had to be shunned.
And yet…
— “I’ll concede the Infinite Chain deal. But… I’d like your help with something else.”
A request for aid, from the heir himself.
Zeke’s hatred for Dekulan had never changed.
But this time was different. The heir had decided to draw his own blade.
If that were all, it wouldn’t have troubled Zeke this deeply, such things were bound to happen eventually. But this request stirred something much heavier within him. Because it forced a collision between his duty as Lorutel’s sword and his beliefs as a knight.
— “Doesn’t it seem strange to you?”
— “What do you mean, my lord?”
— “Why do you think the Eighth Elder was so desperate to accept Dekulan’s proposal?”
— “What… Do you mean?”
The Eighth Elder had always been among the more open-minded of the council.
Though a proud warrior like all Lorutel, he’d shown a relatively friendly stance toward magic.
So his push for cooperation wasn’t entirely out of character. But what the young lord said next shocked Zeke to the core.
— “He’s been taking bribes from Dekulan.”
— “…What?”
— “Call it collusion, maybe. Perhaps not quite that far yet. But still…”
…The Eighth Elder’s support for the deal hadn’t been out of loyalty to Lorutel.”
Whether it was outright corruption or a temporary alliance for personal gain, one thing was certain: he had joined hands with Dekulan.
At least, that was the young lord’s claim.
— “Hard to believe, I know. But I can show you proof if you wish.”
— “No… That’s not it. I just…”
Zeke couldn’t speak further. It wasn’t that he thought the heir was lying, he just needed time to think.
And then came the bombshell.
— “The Eighth Elder.”
— “……”
— “I will cut him down.”
The heir’s mind was made up. That meant he already possessed whatever evidence he deemed necessary. Whether it was true or not, didn’t matter.
‘…It’s no longer about the facts.’
Even without the Dekulan matter, the Eighth Elder had long been a political rival.
The young lord’s resolve wouldn’t waver.
All he needed now…
— “Is for you to become my sword.”
A simple sentence that demanded a choice.
‘Will I remain Lorutel’s sword… or the young lord’s?’
In truth, the answer had been decided long ago.
From the very first day they met. And yet, his heart still wavered, perhaps because the moment had come too suddenly.
Or rather…
‘…What truly is the right thing to do?’
If he were truly the heir’s sword, he should obey and strike the Elder down. For Zeke, his Lorutel wasn’t the current patriarch’s, it was the young lord’s. The young lord’s will was Lorutel’s will.
But as a knight… no, as Lorutel’s knight, doubt gnawed at him.
Would slaying the Elder truly benefit Lorutel?
Was it not merely the young lord’s vengeance, a purge of a political enemy disguised as justice?
He couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t be sure of anything.
The only certainty amid his confusion…
‘The young lord’s hatred for Dekulan… has grown deeper.’
He’d thought time might dull it, but instead, the flames of hatred only burned brighter.
‘He still hasn’t forgotten.’
That day, so many years ago…When his dearest friend had died.
A child who had followed a Dekulan mage as his master, only to return a lifeless corpse. A powerless common-born boy, his death buried quietly within the family.
Yet the young lord had never let it go.
Zeke could still remember it clearly.
— “H-How could my father be so heartless? A child of Lorutel is dead! One we were meant to protect! A helpless, innocent child!”
— “……”
— “A training accident? Look at him! Tell me, how is this the result of training?!”
The young heir had wept, clutching the cold body of his friend, eyes blazing with helpless fury.
— “They say Dekulan are the greatest mages of the Eastern Continent… Then tell me, are these what mages are?!”
Zeke too had felt the same rage.
Cunning tongues that deceived children, only to discard them when they died, that was what mages were.
He still remembered the bright smile of that boy, declaring he would study under a Dekulan mage… and how he returned cold and lifeless. Even retrieving the body had only been possible because Zeke himself had gone to Dekulan at the young lord’s request.
“Haa…”
Remembering it all, the third sword sighed heavily. The waves in his heart refused to calm. He shut his eyes once more.
Then…
BOOM!
“…?”
A distant explosion echoed from somewhere far off.
Not once, but twice…
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Repeated detonations. Zeke narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.
‘What’s this…?’
A battle?
Otherwise, such sounds wouldn’t be ringing through the mountains.
He spread his senses wide, trying to pinpoint the disturbance. But it must have been quite far away, he stretched his aura to its limits, and still couldn’t locate it.
“…Hmph.”
Finally, Zeke rose to his feet.
Frik Mountain might be a forsaken region of Lorutel territory, but it was still Lorutel land. He began walking toward the source of the commotion.
And when he finally reached the battlefield…
His eyes widened in shock.
‘…Young lord?’
Raging magic. Blinding flashes of swords clashing midair.
And among the combatants, right in the thick of it was the young lord himself, who should have returned home.
