Chapter 213
Chapter 213
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.47 – Knights' Night Journey (6)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Indeed, Mystery must be a symbol of faith in this world.
As soon as they thrust forward shaky evidence like sorcery or prophecies, even the ever-suspicious knights of Galahad nodded along and followed without question.
It was something hard for his own sensibilities to grasp...
It had been a sudden team-up—one that would've normally made him balk—but less than ten minutes in, he had no choice but to admit it.
'These guys are absolute beasts.'
...As much as he hated to admit it, if this were a group project and they were his teammates, he couldn't dream of better manpower. Hell...
They were the kind of reliable partners you might see once in a century—far from some idle fancy.
"According to Lionel’s investigations over the past few centuries, the [Sacred Repository] where the holy relics are stored is definitely a subspatial vault created by a grand ritual cast by tens of thousands of priests."
"Impressive that you figured that out."
"Lionel has a ton of ancient tomes, you see. Our scholars had a hell of a time piecing it together."
"Sounds like you used a similar method. So, where is it, and what's the key to get in?"
"We pinpointed the location, but not the key. Lucky for us in that regard. Even without one, you've got your 'Third Eye,' Sir Hiang-rang."
"...You know way too damn much."
"Heh heh, the sorcerer told me."
"When I get back to the family, I'll bump up our alert level on Lionel by two notches."
"Whoa, scary stuff."
He didn't need to do a thing.
They were handling everything themselves—beating drums, striking gongs, solving every problem in sight.
'Whoa, is this what it feels like to be a noob trailing high-level players?'
Dodging the furious priests and nuns, finding the path, locating the holy relic—Lee Han didn't have to lift a finger for any of it.
Sure, their personalities were prickly as hell, but damn if they weren't competent. Really competent.
...It was just that they occasionally drove him up the wall or had tempers like wildfires.
If not for the attitudes diluting all that talent, they'd be absolute powerhouses. Sigh.
"Why're you looking at us like that?"
"Like what?"
"Felt like a weird glare just now..."
"Come on, it's my eyes—I can stare however I want."
"Hmph."
"......"
...Sharp instincts, too.
Maybe it came with that near-mystical Third Eye skill of his, but the guy's perceptiveness was downright ghostly.
'Can't even curse him out in my head.'
Scary bastard.
"You're thinking something weird again. If you've got time to zone out, help search."
"Search?"
"You heard earlier—the Sacred Repository housing the holy relic is a subspatial vault. It exists within the grand temple but doesn't. We need to find it."
"Didn't that guy say he knew where it was?"
"I do know, but only roughly. We're guessing it's somewhere around this hillside."
"That's way too vague..."
The grand temple was a natural fortress carved into the mountain.
That meant beyond the temple buildings, there were forests, hills, cliffs—a whole varied landscape.
Think of it like a monastery built atop a peak.
The temple proper took up less than 40% of the space; the rest was habitat for flora and fauna.
So when Maximus vaguely pointed to "the hillside," it was no wonder Lee Han felt daunted.
How long would it take to comb through this massive area?
"Gonna take a while."
"Sorry about that. Thought it'd pop right out once we hit the hill, but it's bigger than expected. Heh heh."
"...Is that supposed to be an excuse?"
Maximus and Lark started bickering again.
He'd thought it from the moment they met, but those two didn't seem to get along.
Maximus in particular was extra prickly for some reason. Were Lionel and Galahad natural rivals or something?
"Your beef isn't my business... Anyway, this place feels off. Found it, I think?"
"??"
"...What?"
His casual response caught them off guard.
How could he have already found the entrance in this vast expanse?
But Lee Han just pointed.
"That tree over there. Looks like the entrance."
"......?"
His confident tone left them tilting their heads blankly, and he shrugged.
"Go check it out."
"......"
It didn't take long for Lark to dart toward the young sapling Lee Han had indicated, moving with the lightness of a flying squirrel. Less than a minute later—
"...You? How the hell did you know?"
He'd found the real 'entrance.'
Lark stared in disbelief as he asked, and Lee Han shot back.
"Ever hear of echolocation?"
"??"
"Don't know? Never mind then."
Explaining would just tire him out, so he brushed it off.
The important part?
"We found it. That's what matters."
Results beat bragging every time.
Galahad had long pursued embodying Mystery as if it were a fighting technique or swordsmanship, naming such feats "Mystical Arts."
Even mastering a single Mystical Art marked one as a genius—no argument there—and Galahad's history held no record of anyone mastering two or more.
That’s how insanely difficult they were.
But in this era, a knight had not only mastered over seven of these monstrously tough Mystical Arts but had even created his own unique one: the 'Third Eye.' And that knight was...
"Whoa, your eyes really turn red."
"Must be handy at night."
"......Shut up, you thugs."
Lark de Duran.
Galahad's champion of the age.
The Third Eye was a composite art born from investing fully five of his seven Mystical Arts.
An eye that pierced foes' power, spatial flows and gaps, even unraveled magic.
Well, since the Third Eye was a Mystical Art only Lark had ever mastered, it no doubt held even more undisclosed powers.
And Lark, who'd already astounded everyone by attaining such a feat, had gone a step further: he'd perfected how to wield it.
Click.
"Ancient holy spells woven in. Lucky for us—nothing a little dispelling can't handle."
"What's that?"
"An artifact crafted by our family's mages and sorcerers together. Great for cracking Mysteries."
"...Looks just like a burglar's lockpick set."
"Ahem."
"Oh, sorry."
"...Keep your mouth shut. Don't break my focus."
Commonly called a lockpick, or more fancily a "lock-opening technique," the tools danced in a blur.
A fantastical display only a specialist in magic and holy rites could pull off.
Like a [Dispel Show] straight out of a dream.
'Handy guy.'
To an outsider like him, though, it was just a confusing mess.
Impressive, sure—but what the hell was he even doing?
One thing was crystal clear: without Lark, even if he'd found the entrance, getting inside would've been impossible.
'Is this why adventurer parties need a rogue?'
For breaching spots like this, that role was essential.
As he watched the seamless progress—like staring into a cozy fire—
"Hm. Something's fishy."
"...Out of nowhere?"
"Ah, sorry, friend. Habit of blurting thoughts aloud."
"For the love of god, drop the 'friend' crap."
"Haha, a friend’s a friend."
"......Damn it."
Lee Han turned to Maximus, who’d dropped the ominous line from nowhere.
What was fishy?
"Everything's going too smoothly, don't you think?"
"......"
"Ah, you get it right away."
"...Hate agreeing with you, but yeah—things going perfect isn't sitting right."
His fingertips tingled.
Not the pain of an injury, but a different ache.
Phantom pain born of experience.
'Has anything in my life ever gone easy?'
They say test every stone bridge before crossing—but it's just a proverb. Nobody really does.
Bridges don't just collapse mid-stride, after all.
But Lee Han's life? It did.
A high-wire act where bridges crumbled underfoot without warning.
He'd always had to tap every bridge he crossed, and even then, crisis awaited.
So maybe that's why.
Things unfolding smoothly left him uneasy, just as Maximus said.
'No way my luck's this good.'
Unshakable conviction.
Sure as hell no fortune like this for him. With that, Lee Han securely strapped on the two swords and three daggers looted from those half-demons, plus the buckler-style one-hand shield—like they were his lifeline.
"This is bullshit."
Lark shot him a dirty look mid-work, as if telling the jinx to shut it, but Lee Han was dead serious.
"Gear up. Shit’s guaranteed to hit the fan once we’re in."
"......"
"Come on, trust me!"
"Heh heh, brother, if it's that bad, we could just not go in. Why push it?"
"...No 'friend,' now it's 'brother'?"
Maximus's sudden question.
Knowing full well it was dangerous, why dive in? He seemed genuinely curious, and though the nickname grated, Lee Han answered straight.
"Dodging now just delays the beatdown later. Might as well face it head-on."
"......"
"...Why the look?"
"Heh heh, what a shame you weren't born in the North, brother! Choosing battle over fleeing for comfort! Yes! That's the warrior way!! The most Northern choice of all..."
"......"
Why did it feel like an insult despite the praise?
'Getting called 'Northern' by this guy feels like a diss...'
The moment hung awkwardly, and as Lee Han opened his mouth to retort—
Whoosh!
...A blaze of light swallowed any further talk.
"Hurry in—can hold it five seconds."
"...Use a damn blinker next time."
Lee Han grumbled but leaped straight in.
No hesitation...
And then—
"—Lee Han, you said you were gonna stake your claim?"
......Regret hit fast.
"......"
"Think about it again, punk. Staking's got zero upsides!"
"...Dokgo hyung?"
"Hyung? Even with discharge around the corner, 'hyung' in the army? Nah, man."
"W-Wait, really Dokgo hyung? Dokgo Gupa?"
"......Told you not to say my full name!"
"...Whoa, it really is."
Lee Han blinked around the room.
No beds—just yellow linoleum where soldiers huddled to sleep, rusty lockers crumbling at the edges.
Plus canteens from the Korean War era and worn-out supplies.
And...
'This guy had hair back then...'
Staring at his old CO—Dokgo Gupa, who you'd expect to wield Dokgo Sword Style but could barely boil ramen—Lee Han blinked blankly.
He'd prepped for crisis...
'No way I gotta relive NCO life?'
Shudder...
A knight who'd stand fearless before hundreds—no, thousands—of monsters trembled in dread.
Two years as a grunt? Fine. But NCO remake? Hell no...