Chapter 74
Chapter 74
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.20 – After He Fell Asleep (1)
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‘…It’s over.’
A sense of relief… somehow didn’t wash over him.
There was no joy in having survived, not even the thrill of victory.
It just felt like one grueling task he’d been forced to slog through had finally come to an end.
For having defeated a legendary magical beast, it was an awfully dry sentiment, but what could he do about it?
After all.
“I lost…”
If he’d won with his own hands, he might have felt some sense of accomplishment, but in the end, he’d had to borrow someone else’s strength.
Even after giving it his all—no, his absolute everything—he’d lost.
Thoroughly, without a single excuse to fall back on.
So what lingered in his mouth was not refreshment, but the bitter aftertaste of having chewed through a heap of herbs.
…However.
“Heh, as long as the kids made it, that’s what counts.”
He felt no helplessness or self-loathing.
His disciples, his kids, had survived.
That single fact might be the only thing he could take pride in.
-For Pendragon! For Lionel…!
-Waaaaah!
The cheers of victory echoing from afar.
They must have succeeded in wiping out the entire horde of monsters inside the Colosseum.
Incredibly, even amid the clamor of the countless crowd, he could clearly distinguish his disciples’ voices, confirming they were all safe.
“Those rascals.”
Only then could he—Lee Han—finally wear a satisfied smile.
“Heh heh, looks like teaching suits your temperament after all. Or maybe I just didn’t know you had such an unexpectedly sentimental side.”
“...I’m savoring the moment here, so just let me be.”
“That cheeky mouth of yours is as lively as ever… If only you showed some proper respect for your elders, you’d be perfect.”
“I give due respect to elders who deserve it. You just don’t qualify.”
“...Should I have just let the brat die?”
Baltar Grace clicked his tongue, wondering what kind of guy this was.
The nerve of this wilted spinach, soaked limp and still flapping his gums.
The kind of guy whose mouth would keep floating even if he drowned in a river.
“Yeah, who told you to show up so late? If you’d come when I called, things would’ve been so much better.”
But Lee Han wasn’t just griping for no reason.
-Help me out here, old man.
When he’d sensed the ominous magical beast appearing, the first person he’d asked for help was none other than this guy.
And yet, this guy—
“You can’t move on uncertain information.”
“So you wait until disaster strikes? I’d love to see you make excuses after everyone’s wiped out!”
“...Ahem.”
At this point, Baltar averted his gaze, at a loss for words.
Not trusting Lee Han had definitely been his own judgment call.
“B-but I rushed over the moment I sensed something fishy, so let’s move past it now.”
The distance from the academy to the palace was roughly 30 km.
He’d crossed it in one go, so that was effort on his part, to be fair.
That said, on the flip side.
“If me and the kids hadn’t held out, we’d all be dead.”
“Ahem, no argument there.”
Their survival—no, Lee Han’s endurance—was what had made that effort meaningful.
Baltar nodded in agreement, admitting that everyone in the capital owed Lee Han for this.
He’d prepared alone while no one else moved, preventing a ‘catastrophe.’
“I don’t know about the mongrel pack, but if that thing had rampaged through the capital, it would’ve been a disaster.”
Grrr… gu… grr… gu…!
Baltar glanced at the Ghost King, now disassembled like a puzzle.
It was clearly dead, yet still trying to regenerate.
A horrific sight that perfectly matched its infamous title of immortality.
“...If that thing had consumed any sustenance, even I wouldn’t have had it easy.”
“Lucky for us it was too dumb.”
Lee Han didn’t deny his own contributions.
If that monster hadn’t fixated on him and had eaten other food instead, the situation would’ve ended right there.
The moment it ingested prey, it would’ve regained a good chunk of its prime strength.
Even an Aura User might not have—
“Still, it’s a shame. Fighting it at full power would’ve been fun, heh heh.”
“...Senile old geezer.”
A thought suddenly struck Lee Han: even if the Ghost King hadn’t been at 30% but at 100% full strength, Baltar might still have had the edge.
As far as he knew, Baltar Grace was, without question.
‘If that troll bastard’s the Demon King, then this old man’s the ‘War God.’’
A titan of the era whom he couldn’t imagine losing.
He even doubted if perfecting the Plum Blossom Sword he’d shown today would land a proper hit.
Anyway.
“I’m sick of it, so sick.”
The mountain he aimed to climb still didn’t even show its ridgeline.
Later, royal soldiers and reinforcements arrived belatedly, and the situation wrapped up quickly.
Me?
I just stood there idly.
“Rest up. I’ll handle the rest.”
This guy rarely showed consideration, so I could trust him with it.
Just.
“Someone might try funny business with that thing, so get rid of it quick.”
“I know. Spare me the nagging.”
Baltar, who knew best what Lee Han meant by ‘get rid of it,’ readily decided to incinerate the Ghost King’s corpse.
Nobles, mages, or various others would surely scheme to claim ownership of that body.
It wasn’t a prediction—it was a certainty. He could already picture the shady dealings with that ominous thing.
‘After all that hard work catching it, I can’t stand watching them pull crap.’
If Lee Han saw that, he’d go berserk and snap the necks of everyone eyeing the corpse.
Knowing this, Baltar complied without fuss.
There might be complaints later.
…But who could say anything to him?
No one could command Baltar unless the War God himself returned alive.
Whoosh!
Aura blazed like fire, consuming the Ghost King’s corpse.
Aura, the knight’s mystery attainable only by superhumans.
The goal every knight strived for, its power an enigma even magic couldn’t fathom.
And the moment that enigmatic power touched it, the Ghost King’s body ignited.
Normally, burning magical beasts released deathly miasma, and something like the Ghost King would blanket the capital in smoke—no surprise there.
But Aura ‘erased’ all impurities.
The world’s purest and most potent purifying force, by another name.
Before Aura, miasma, curses, grudges—none could endure.
‘With Aura, environmental issues would be solved too.’
If Aura Users existed in the modern world, they’d rake in fortunes.
With a mere thought, they could clear such things without harming the ecosystem.
‘...Guess I’m pretty wiped.’
Random thoughts popping up out of nowhere.
Lee Han smiled wryly, mocking himself that his condition was definitely off.
And so.
“...Handle the rest yourself, old man.”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To rest.”
“You brat, dumping all the work on this old man?”
“That’s the least you can do. Or should the guy who did all the heavy lifting handle cleanup too?”
Why explain everything to these latecomers who dragged their feet?
“Heh heh, you sure have a way with words.”
The content was sarcastic, but his tone was straightforward.
As if he had no intention of stopping him.
And then.
“Things are going to get busy from here. You made your presence too known this time.”
“...”
“I’ve managed to hush up your feats so far, but this one’s tough. You’ll probably get a summons from the palace in a few days.”
“...”
“Don’t make it so obvious you hate it. For some, it’s the glory of a lifetime.”
“Ugh! I don’t care right now. I’m heading out.”
Lee Han waved him off.
As if saying his head already hurt, so no more talk.
Baltar knew his temperament and just chuckled, saying nothing more.
Instead.
“Here, take this.”
“What’s that?”
“Show it to a reliable alchemist or mage. You’ll probably get something worthwhile out of it.”
“...Hm.”
He handed over a gift.
The sole remnant from the Ghost King’s body, fully incinerated by Aura.
A gem-like object, but grotesquely so.
It was.
“No way…?”
“Its heart. Miraculously didn’t burn.”
The magical beast’s heart.
Not just any—no, the Ghost King’s heart.
A troll’s heart alone fetched the price of a castle; valuing the Ghost King’s was impossible.
A priceless treasure.
One whose worth couldn’t be measured.
Lee Han looked at Baltar with indescribable eyes.
Wondering why he wasn’t claiming such a treasure but giving it to him instead.
“Gotta reward the one who earned it. No gifts for the freeloaders. Just take it. It’s between you and me anyway.”
“...I’ll think of it as hazard pay.”
“Brat, try saying it nicely for once.”
“What, you want cute?”
“Not that.”
“Make up your mind.”
Lee Han gripped the Ghost King’s heart tightly in his hand.
He wouldn’t indulge in bloated worries about whether he deserved it.
‘I’ll put it to good use.’
Squeeze.
One bout of helplessness was enough.
Even in his bone-tired state, ready to collapse, his eyes gleamed fiercely.
Confirming he now had a stepping stone to the next stage.
“...No gratitude, huh.”
Gone without a proper goodbye, and a grumble slips out first.
The guy has no sense of propriety.
Still.
“Taking care of the kids like that… he’s changed a lot, heh.”
Looking after a fallen girl and a boy—unthinkable for the old lone wolf.
Baltar felt newly satisfied.
But it wasn’t just his temperament rounding out.
“His back’s gotten broader since I last saw.”
His strength had changed beyond recognition too.
Without a doubt.
He’d grown far beyond his days in the knights’ order.
Even then, among the White Lions, only the captain level could match him—now, they were outclassed.
Excluding himself, no White Lion could beat him now.
Probably, in the capital’s knights’ order, only members of Pendragon’s legendary order,
[White Dragon Knights], handpicked by the War God himself,
could hope to face him.
(Former) White Dragon Knights Captain Baltar Grace felt a peculiar satisfaction.
“If he were just a bit more diligent, I could entrust him with…”
A meaningful remark unclear in intent, but Baltar decided not to tie him down.
Left free, he grew wildly.
Even daily spars hadn’t shown this level.
So, let him be.
The brat would find his path in freedom.
“Looking forward to next time.”
Where would he have grown by then?
The old man smiled, anticipating the young one’s progress.
…Just one thing.
“But why didn’t he take this old mage along?”
He’d scooped up everyone else, yet oddly left the mage elder behind. Baltar tsked at Lee Han.
The guy.
“Doesn’t respect his elders.”
Mistaking the exhausted, fainted mage Odwal Bernard (28) for someone older than himself, Baltar scolded.
His character still a fail.
Lee Han’s back lightened quickly.
Taechang’s case:
-Thank you for bringing him back safely.
The purple-haired girl from yesterday’s debate rushed over and took him.
Her affectionate touch as she cared for the boy… suddenly his stomach ached a bit.
The kid denied it so hard, but they’re definitely not ordinary.
Irene Windler’s case was similar.
-I’ll take her.
A woman looking like a duke’s knight appeared, and Lee Han handed Irene over.
Suspicious, but…
‘Her brother?’
She had the face of that obnoxious Lark guy from yesterday.
Probably his sister, so fine to entrust.
Besides, her blood-soaked body showed she’d slain dozens alone.
That alone was reason enough to trust.
-…Thank you for trusting me. And for looking after the young lady.
-Whatever. Tell your brother next time I’ll turn his face to rags.
-That’s welcome news.
…Seemed decent enough.
Thus, somehow left empty-handed, he wandered lightly seeking rest, and at some point.
“...Ah.”
He realized he stood in his own front yard.
He could’ve crashed anywhere, yet he’d come home?
Not a migratory bird.
The moment he thought himself an idiot.
“You’re back, Sir Knight.”
“...”
“Hehe, good work out there.”
“Since when…”
“Huh? I was just waiting the whole time?”
“...”
A woman greeted him warmly.
Leira Winter, seemingly waiting for his return—Lee Han blanked out briefly.
Drip.
“Maid?”
“Yes.”
The moment he called, Leira approached.
Wondering why so close—
‘Ah, I’m collapsing.’
Not her coming; he was falling. Realizing this, he tried to stand.
But Leira.
Swoop.
“Just relax and rest. Lean on me comfortably.”
“...”
“Sleep. They say it’s the cure for all ills!”
“...Pretty learned for a maid.”
“Huh?”
“Haha…”
Lee Han ended up leaning into her embrace, unable to pull away.
No stimulating perfume—just the fresh scent of soap and warm sunlight.
And.
‘Ah, so comfy.’
A motherly gentle touch.
Irresistible coziness pulled him into sleep swiftly.
So defenselessly.
“It’s okay, it’s fine.”
But Leira gently stroked his hair, pillowing his head on her lap protectively.
As if no worries were needed.
Rustle.
A cool breeze tenderly swept the yard under clouds parting for sunset.
“Good work.”
The maid merely held him warmly, worried he might catch a cold.
Endlessly.